Watch Your Back

by Karen Rose

  ‘That’s a lot of ifs,’ Brodie said doubtfully. ‘But I guess it’s a place to start.’

  Novak shrugged. ‘Plus Fletcher might give the Germans some information once it sinks in that he’s been caught. Anybody traveling on their own passport with a chemical weapon in their checked luggage is probably not going to hold up under interrogation too long. I’d give up Robinette in a heartbeat if it were me.’

  ‘This is why Robinette needed you dead, Stevie. It was never about his son,’ Clay said.

  ‘I know.’ It made more sense now. ‘I was looking into all the old cases. If I’d opened his again, I might have caught on to his sideline business. He had the perfect opportunity when people started shooting at me.’

  ‘He took advantage of the fact that other people wanted you dead, too,’ JD said. ‘Bastard.’

  Joseph came to his feet, holding his phone. ‘Daphne just got our warrant for his house and the factory. SWAT teams are on their way to both places. JD, Deacon, Kate, you’re with me.’

  ‘I’ll get back to the lab,’ Brodie said, ‘and prepare it for any sarin samples you find.’

  Stevie stood up. ‘I’m going, too, Joseph. I’ll stay out of your way, but I deserve to see Robinette brought to his knees.’

  Joseph looked at Clay. ‘You, too, I take it?’

  ‘If she goes, so do I. And she does deserve to be there.’

  ‘If I tell you no, you’ll just do it anyway,’ Joseph finally said. ‘I’d rather know where you are. Just wear body armor, get a gas mask, and stay behind the line.’

  Wednesday, March 19, 2.55 P.M.

  He wasn’t dead, but Robinette felt like his gut had been pulled out through his navel. He’d spent nearly twenty-four hours lying on Brenda Lee’s garage floor vomiting his insides up. When he got his hands on Fletcher . . . I will fucking kill the bitch.

  But first, he thought, staring at the screen of the ATM in his bank’s drive-thru lane, he was going to kill Lisa. And by God, he’d make it hurt.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  He turned to look at Cecilia Wright, who sat in the passenger seat of her minivan, watching him as though he was a striking rattlesnake. Brenda Lee’s best friend was a smart woman.

  He’d hidden under a blanket in the back of Brenda Lee’s minivan to get out of his house and into her garage, thinking he’d put distance between himself and the Feds. They’d been outside his factory and his home – but then they’d also been outside Brenda Lee’s home. The Feds knew.

  He knew he’d left blood at that farm – and he’d never left DNA behind before. His only saving grace was that he had no DNA profile on file anywhere that the Feds could compare the blood to. They’d ask him to voluntarily submit a sample, but he’d refuse and they’d never get a warrant to take his DNA, not on the circumstantial evidence they possessed. But knowing that the FBI congregated outside his property and outside Brenda Lee’s had left them both shaken.

  He and Brenda Lee agreed that he needed to get out of town for a while. Somewhere that he could rest without being recognized. So he’d dragged himself into Brenda Lee’s bathroom and cleaned himself up, the razor she used to buzz cut her son’s hair aiding his disguise. His mustache and most of his hair filled a trash bag he’d taken away with him.

  He’d leave no DNA behind that the cops could use against him.

  Brenda Lee had smuggled him out of her garage under the same blanket, letting him out behind her son’s school. The private gate kept the Fed tail from following them onto school property where Cecilia Wright waited, having just picked up her own six-year-old daughter.

  Edgy and pale, Cecilia had buckled her daughter into the backseat of Brenda Lee’s minivan, then had driven Robinette – hidden under another damn blanket in yet another damn minivan – past the Fed waiting outside. They’d stopped on a side street where he’d taken the wheel, tired of hiding under blankets.

  His plan had been to first hit the ATM and then to drive to the airport where Cecilia was going to rent a car for him in her name. But step one had stalled out.

  ‘My bank account seems to be empty,’ he said mildly.

  ‘I . . . I can loan you some money,’ Cecilia said with a terrified stutter.

  Idly he wondered what this woman owed Brenda Lee that she was willing to aid him. Then he remembered they’d taken her teenager into one of their programs when no one else would. If they hadn’t, the teen would have gone to juvie. Which was where the kid had belonged, in Robinette’s opinion. But Brenda Lee had begged and Robinette had allowed it.

  He was damn glad that he had. ‘I might take you up on that. Give me a moment.’

  Robinette dialed his home phone, intending to lure Lisa out. So he could fucking kill her.

  ‘Todd?’ Lisa answered, a relieved sigh whooshing out of her. ‘You’ve had me so scared. Where are you?’

  ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘Why do I want to know?’ she echoed, sounding bewildered. Lisa did bewildered very well. ‘I suppose I understand why you’d ask. I was terrible to you yesterday. I was hurt that you only called me because there was no one else. I . . . was wrong.’

  He liked the words. Didn’t trust the sentiment.

  ‘I seem to have a problem with our bank account,’ he said. He had other accounts but he couldn’t access them from here. He also had cash in his safes at home and at work. Had he not been puking his guts up the day before, he’d have cleaned those out. Of course he didn’t plan to tell Lisa about his cash reserves. She’d steal him blind. ‘There’s nothing in it.’

  ‘That’s because I moved the money, because I got visited by the FBI. Henderson is making outrageous claims. I figured if the FBI came looking for your assets, they’d freeze them.’

  ‘Where did you move them?’

  ‘To my account, the one I had from before we got married. But I took a large amount in cash in case you need to pay someone to deal with this Henderson mess for you.’

  ‘That’s what I pay Brenda Lee for.’

  A long pause. ‘Then I suppose you don’t need the money,’ she said sweetly, and he knew he’d pissed her off again.

  He gritted his teeth, kept his tone civil. ‘No, but I’d like to have it.’

  ‘Then I’ll give it to you. I think we should lie low for a few days,’ Lisa said. ‘Let all this hubbub die down. You might still have a political career if we play this right.’

  In a third-world nation he’d never heard of, Robinette thought bitterly. ‘I need a car.’

  ‘I’ll pick you up. The police are still out there, but it’s just one car that’s parked way down the street where they think I won’t notice them. I can slip out the back and cut through the woods to the neighbor’s house. Dad said he’d send a car for me. Are you at the bank now?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said warily.

  ‘Then I’ll pick you up and we can go away for the weekend. I know a great spa where we can relax and let whatever craziness Henderson is spouting blow over. You’ll come back rejuvenated and ready to talk campaign strategies. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.’

  She thought this would blow over in a weekend? Is she that stupid? ‘Don’t be late.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she said warmly. ‘We’ll have a wonderful time. Just the two of us.’

  Robinette hung up, stared at his phone for a long moment. Lisa might be clueless, but she wasn’t stupid. It was likely that she was luring him into a trap instead of the other way around. So . . . should he stay or run?

  Stay, he thought. But be ready to run. Decision made, he put Cecilia’s car into gear.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Cecilia asked, still watching him carefully.

  Robinette parked in the corner of the nearly empty lot. ‘You’re going to call a cab to take you home. I’m going to stay here and meet my wife. When I’ve finished with your van, I’ll let Brenda Lee know and she can bring you back to pick it up. I’ll also accept the loan you offered as well as the use of your credit card. Don’t worry. Brenda Lee
will reimburse you.’

  Wright got out her purse. ‘All right. Whatever you say, Mr Robinette.’

  Whatever you say, Mr Robinette. Forced out of Lisa’s throat, those words would sound like music. He stared at his hands. Imagining them wrapped around Lisa’s slender neck. Then imagined them around Mazzetti’s. The words would sound even better forced out of Mazzetti’s throat, he thought. He’d make the bitch say them – and more – before he was done with her.

  But first things first. Money, rental car, plane ticket, deal with Lisa. Then he would deal with Mazzetti.

  Wednesday, March 19, 5.45 P.M.

  ‘This isn’t good,’ Stevie muttered for what had to have been the hundredth time as she paced behind the long line of law enforcement vehicles parked in front of Robinette’s home, a mansion on a secluded lot at the end of a very long, private driveway blocked by an ornamental gate. She and Clay were inside the gate, but so far away from the house that they could barely see Robinette’s front door without binoculars.

  Outside the gate, news station vans and twice as many cars lined the street. The reporters had been waiting all afternoon, as soon as the word had gotten out that SWAT teams had converged on Robinette’s house and factory.

  The officer guarding the gate had allowed them to pass, but only on foot. No unauthorized vehicles were permitted on the premises so they’d had to park the SUV outside the gate. Once inside, the officer had informed her that he had ‘orders from Special Agent Carter’ to keep her as far from the house as possible. For her own safety of course.

  Which left Stevie cursing Joseph in ways that became increasingly more creative as the afternoon passed. She finally stopped cursing and pacing to peer through her binoculars.

  ‘What are they doing in there?’ she demanded. ‘It’s not like they don’t have enough cops. What is taking them so long?’

  Clay knew she was venting her frustration, so he’d wisely said little as she’d raged. It was far better that she expend her wrath on Joseph than on him. But she was right. The alphabet soup of coverage included the FBI, ATF, BPD, SWAT, and even the CIA. With so many cops from so many agencies in there, the lack of news couldn’t be positive.

  ‘They’ve been in there for hours,’ she said. ‘Why haven’t they found him? How many places can a man hide?’

  She sounded calmer now, so Clay ventured a response. ‘In a house that big? I’d say a fair number.’

  She sighed, her voice growing small. ‘What if he’s not there, Clay?’

  He gently squeezed the back of her neck, her only accessible skin. They both wore body armor from the waist up – Joseph’s condition for them being allowed here at all. ‘You heard Joseph. Nobody’s left the property since Brenda Lee Miller left yesterday and one of Joseph’s people followed her.’

  ‘I know. I just hate not being in there. I hate having to wait way back here, twiddling my thumbs. I hate not knowing what’s happening.’

  ‘I’m not too crazy about it myself,’ he admitted, then checked his binoculars when Robinette’s front door opened. ‘It’s Joseph. Here he comes.’

  Joseph stopped four times to talk with various staff before getting to them. That his expression was closed didn’t bode well. That the long line of law enforcement cars had begun to move, exiting the property in a single file line, was even more telling.

  ‘I’m sorry, Stevie,’ Joseph said. ‘I’d meant to brief you, but time got away from me.’

  ‘Did you find him?’ she demanded in a low voice.

  ‘No.’ Joseph’s jaw was tight. ‘He’s not in there. Somehow he got away.’

  Stevie stared at him. ‘How?’

  ‘My agents assure me that no one entered or left the property after Brenda Lee left yesterday. We just got a warrant to search her house. It appears that she smuggled him out. She has a van because of her wheelchair. He could have hidden in the back. The agent also lost sight of her for a few minutes when she picked her son up from school. It’s a private school with a gate and he didn’t want to risk detection at the time. Robinette might have gotten out there.’

  Stevie paled. ‘He could be going back to the farm. After Cordelia.’

  Joseph shook his head. ‘We’ve got people lined up along the farm’s driveway and at all access points in the woods. We’ve got the cameras and infrared sensors. They can’t approach by car, foot, or even on horseback.’

  ‘What’s Robinette’s wife saying?’ Clay asked.

  ‘Absolutely nothing. She’s planted herself on a sofa and hasn’t said one word, except to demand her attorney. Luckily they have staff that can tell a sinking ship when they’re on one. The live-in cook says she heard Lisa screaming yesterday afternoon. First at Brenda Lee, then even more after she left, mostly calling Robinette unprintable names. That’s when Lisa cleaned out his closet and dumped his toys. And she did drive over his Xbox. There are still pieces of it on the garage floor. Then the cook heard nothing and got worried. She went to Lisa’s room, found her crying on the phone with her mother, saying she was getting a divorce.’

  ‘Did the cook see him?’ Clay put his arm around Stevie’s shoulders. She was trembling.

  ‘No. She said she hadn’t seen him since Brenda Lee left.’

  Stevie took a deep breath. ‘Why did Lisa want a divorce?’

  ‘She told her mother that Robinette was having an affair.’

  Stevie frowned. ‘With Brenda Lee?’

  ‘No, with James Fletcher.’

  Stevie straightened abruptly. ‘Oh. That would explain some of her rage. No woman wants to be upstaged, especially a twenty-three-year-old debutante.’

  ‘If she didn’t know that Robinette was bisexual, that must have been a shock,’ Clay said.

  ‘It wasn’t Fletcher’s gender,’ Joseph said. ‘It was his relationship with Robinette from before Lisa’s time. She was apparently jealous of all the time Robinette spent with his team. The cook said Lisa particularly dislikes Brenda Lee because Robinette listens to everything she says. That Brenda Lee came over when Lisa brought him home from his office was the lighted match in the tinderbox.’

  ‘He’d called her, too?’ Stevie asked.

  ‘I guess that’s what Lisa assumed. Lisa lit into her, accusing her of trying to steal her husband. Brenda Lee took offense and started yelling too. Cook said she tried not to listen.’ Joseph rolled his eyes. ‘But then Brenda Lee screamed that she wasn’t the one having an affair with Robinette. That everyone knew it had been Fletcher. “For years.” Since long before Lisa was in the picture. Long before she was “even in high school”.’

  Clay winced. ‘Oh. Low blow.’

  ‘I know. The cook said it got really quiet and Brenda Lee apologized for telling Lisa that way. That it was best if she just “got used to it”. That “Fletcher wasn’t going anywhere”.’

  ‘Except,’ Stevie said, ‘he was. He would have been halfway to Paris by then. Almost makes me feel sorry for Lisa.’

  ‘Don’t reach for the tissues yet. Lisa accused Brenda Lee of stirring this up to thwart Robinette’s bid for office. Brenda Lee told her that if she really wanted to be a political wife, she needed to dump Robinette and find another man. That Robinette’s relationship with Fletcher was the least of her worries. Then the cook said Brenda Lee left.’

  ‘Wait.’ Stevie frowned. ‘She left without even talking to Robinette? He must have gone straight to her van to hide. She knew his plan and aided him.’

  ‘We’ll charge her with it,’ Joseph promised. ‘I’m going to Brenda Lee’s right now. I’ll update you when I have news.’ He hailed a young agent who came running. ‘Get a car, please.’

  Joseph started to walk away, but Stevie grabbed his arm. ‘What about the factory? Could he have gone there?’

  ‘No, but we did end up using the HazMat guys. We found gallons of sarin stored in aluminum bottles.’

  ‘Keeps it fresh and deadly even longer,’ Clay said grimly.

  Joseph frowned at him. ‘I don’t even want to know ho
w you know this stuff. The lab techs swear they knew nothing about it and the day shift logs support that. They make vaccines during the day, but said Fletcher worked a lot of nights contract manufacturing for other companies. There were no records for those batches and the companies don’t exist, except on paper. Oh, and you’re gonna love this part. The sarin Coppola and Novak found was boxed up and ready for shipment. Guess how it was labeled?’

  ‘Not as perfume, I take it,’ Clay said.

  ‘No. As vaccines. That’s how they were getting it to their customers. All of Robinette’s philanthropy, all that providing vaccines to third-world nations at a fraction of their cost was nothing but a smokescreen. My car’s here. I’m going to have a chat with Brenda Lee. I’m leaving a crew to guard the house, in case— Hold on.’ Joseph took his cell phone from his pocket. ‘It’s Coppola. Kate,’ he answered. ‘What do you have?’

  They watched as Joseph’s body straightened, his eyes growing sharp. ‘Which one? When?’ Then, ‘You’ve alerted airport security? Excellent. I’ll meet you there in thirty.’ He hung up, gave Clay and Stevie a hard nod. ‘Cecilia Wright’s credit card was used to buy a plane ticket to Mexico City, and not for herself.’

  ‘For Robinette?’ Clay asked with a frown. ‘He wouldn’t be that foolish, would he?’

  ‘No. He knows we’re looking for him. The ticket is for Eric Johnson. I figured Robinette would have a secondary passport, just like Westmoreland did.’

  ‘Which airport?’ Stevie asked. ‘BWI, Reagan, or Dulles?’

  ‘I’ll have one of my agents escort you to the farm,’ Joseph said, ignoring her question. ‘Stay there until I call you. Please, Stevie. I need to know you’re safe. I have to go now.’

  Clay watched him go, followed by several more law enforcement vehicles and the last of the news vans, who had correctly sensed a break in the story. When all the taillights disappeared, he said quietly, ‘To the farm like he asked you? Or to the airport?’

  She let out a breath. ‘I’m not convinced he’s going to Mexico City. He had to know we’d check out Cecilia Wright. Had to know we’d find out she was Brenda Lee’s friend.’