Easy Shot

by Smith, Dean Wesley

  The man instantly clicked off his phone and punched the button for the window beside him to roll down. He used a handkerchief to carefully wipe off his fingerprints from the phone and the keypad. There was a stretch of empty desert and litter a few hundred feet ahead. As the limo went past he tossed the phone into the litter beside the road.

  He put the window up and then keyed in the intercom to the driver of the limo. “Turn right at the next corner and then right again at the next and head back into town.”

  “Understood, sir,” the driver said.

  He sat back and thought. Was it possible that Benny had just put the phone down? By this time of night he should have already been at the house with Danny the golf pro. And both Danny and his young wife should be dead, if Benny followed orders. He was hoping to make use of the two bodies.

  Was it possible that Benny was busy with that chore?

  The man nodded and pulled out another cell phone. He punched in another number, this one for the phone of Benny’s assistant who had been guarding the young wife.

  The phone rang two too many rings before a voice answered. “Yeah.”

  The voice sounded like Benny’s voice, but it wasn’t Benny.

  He clicked the cell phone closed, quickly wiped it clean of his fingerprints, and tossed it out the window. It bounced under a parked car.

  “Driver, take a left at the next corner and go until you reach the freeway. Then head for Tucson.”

  “Yes, sir,” the driver said.

  It was clear that Benny and one of his men were either dead or captured by the FBI. It made sense that they would get the young pro to break the moment the Senator had his accident. And from there the trail was easy to Benny and his helper. He was going to miss Benny, that was for sure. A good worker.

  But he wasn’t going to miss the money he now didn’t have to pay Benny. That was an extra bonus.

  But what to do about Charles Robins?

  The man sat back in the comfort of the limo and sipped a brandy, thinking. He wasn’t halfway to Tucson before he came up with a great plan.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sunday, April 9th

  11:21 p.m.

  CRAIG PUSHED AWAY his mostly empty plate and sipped on the Diet Coke. They had been lucky to find a place with food this good so late on a Sunday night. It looked more like a diner stuffed inside an old freight warehouse, but Hagar had sworn by the place and he had been right. Great service, great food, and background music low enough to talk over.

  What more could they have asked for?

  At the moment Hagar was finishing a large plate of some sort of Mexican food Craig didn’t recognize.

  Maxwell had already pushed away the last of his barbecue chicken.

  Bonnie was trying to polish off the last few pieces of her steak.

  Around them there were still people coming in and being seated. Clearly the locals knew this place well. Craig couldn’t imagine how busy it was during peak hours if there were this many people here on a late Sunday night.

  For all of them it had been one very long day, topped with the scene in the hospital with Danny and Steph getting back together. Just the memory of that made Craig smile. The quiet, sullen young golf pro that they had played golf with all weekend suddenly had become happy, full of life, with a light in his eyes as he and his wife hugged and cried together.

  Craig couldn’t even imagine playing golf while Bonnie was being held hostage. But Danny had done what he thought he had to do. And somehow had managed. He was one strong kid.

  From what Maxwell had said, because of Danny’s help getting to some of the men behind the attempt on the Senator’s life, and the situation of his wife being kidnapped, no charges against Danny would be brought. He and Steph were just victims of the larger plan.

  At the hospital Craig had apologized to Danny for treating him so roughly on the cart path after the accident.

  Danny said it was all right. For not calling the police at once he deserved much more than that. Then he had added that he never wanted to ever be on the receiving end of being arrested again by an angry cop. Once was enough.

  Initially Craig and Bonnie had been scheduled to fly out early in the morning and be back to work on Tuesday from this so-called vacation. But since Craig had been involved in the shooting of one of the suspects, there were going to be hearings to attend and paperwork to fill out.

  Bonnie had called the airline and pushed their flight back to Tuesday. Then she had told their bosses in Seattle what had happened. So with an extra day or so, maybe, just maybe, they could end up having a little time alone.

  “So what happens next?” Bonnie asked Maxwell as she gave up and pushed her plate away from her with a few bites of steak still left.

  Maxwell shrugged. “Steph Baines said there were three men who kidnapped her. Two are now dead, so we still got one out there somewhere.”

  “The guy who made the phone calls to the cell phones?” Craig asked.

  Craig’s attempt to imitate one of the dead men on the second call had failed instantly. Clearly the man making the calls was smart and was being very careful. Both calls had been made from different stolen cell phones, and both phones had been quickly found, obviously tossed out of a moving car.

  “More than likely he’s the third,” Maxwell said, nodding as he sipped a cup of coffee. “And he’s now a good distance out of the area.”

  “But he wasn’t the money man,” Hagar said.

  “I doubt it,” Maxwell said. “We’re pretty sure that is Robins. He’s the only one with motive to hurt the Senator. But proving it without the third man in custody is going to be damned hard.”

  “Money trail?” Bonnie asked.

  “Maybe,” Maxwell said. “If we can get the warrants, and if he was just plain stupid.”

  Craig could only nod his agreement. He doubted Robins was that stupid.

  “Is the Senator safely in Washington?” Bonnie asked, her voice low so only the four of them could hear the question.

  “Safe and ready for a press conference right before he goes in for the vote tomorrow morning,” Maxwell said, smiling. “All his close family and friends have been informed of the ruse so they won’t worry.”

  “Even without being caught it seems that Robins is going to get his just desserts,” Craig said. “I’d love to see his face as he watches that press conference.”

  All of them laughed and agreed.

  Craig glanced at Hagar. “When are you going to want me in the station tomorrow morning?”

  Hagar looked at his watch. “How about at the crack of noon?”

  “Perfect,” Craig said, feeling relieved that Hagar hadn’t said eight. “Just over twelve hours of vacation.”

  “A good night’s sleep,” Bonnie said, sighing. “Won’t that be a change for this trip?”

  “Let me know what it feels like,” Maxwell said.

  “Yeah, me too,” Hagar agreed.

  Thirty minutes later Hagar dropped them off in front of the hotel and twenty minutes after that they were in their swimming suits and sitting in the bubbling water of the hotel’s massive hot tub.

  The tub was located in a corner of the swimming pool area. It was surrounded by boulders and made to look more like a natural hot springs than a hotel hot tub. Craig had to admit that was a nice touch. And the best part was that when sitting down in the tub, the boulders blocked the view of the pool and the hotel, leaving nothing but the rocky mountainside above the hotel and the night stars. It made for a wonderful relaxing hot dip in what felt like a mountain pool.

  They were alone in the hot tub since it was almost one in the morning, but another couple was sitting on the far side of the pool, holding hands and talking while their feet dangled in the water.

  “Perfect temperature,” Bonnie said, letting her body float with the bubbles beside him. “A great meal and a hot soak. I think I needed this.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” he said, leaning back and letting the warm water s
oothe his nerves. “Only one thing I need more than this and sleep.”

  She laughed. “And just what might that be?”

  Without looking at her he said, “You have to ask?”

  Her hand moved over and rested on his crotch. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Maybe an hour of sex in that big bed upstairs,” he said, “then eight hours of sleep, then another hour of sex tomorrow morning.”

  “Before or after breakfast?” she asked.

  “On second thought,” he said, “maybe both.”

  “Oh, feeling young, are we?”

  “What are vacations for?”

  She laughed as her hand moved slowly on him for a moment and he hardened under her touch.

  Then she said, “That’s a perfect plan if you add in just one thing.”

  “Trust me,” he said, “the thing you’re playing with is part of the plan.”

  She laughed again, but didn’t stop moving her hand. “No, I just wanted to stay in the hot tub for a few more minutes. Let some of the tension drain away.”

  “Before we go back to the room and create more tension?” he asked.

  “Exactly,” she said.

  Maybe, just maybe, they might be able to salvage this vacation after all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Monday, April 10th

  1:06 a.m.

  CHARLES ROBINS SAT back in his chair and smiled as Grant reported the security measures being taken around the estate.

  Charles figured that if he was going to have a problem with the man he called Bill because of the short payment, it was going to be tonight.

  Or maybe tomorrow night.

  So he had called in every member of his security team, under the leadership of Grant, an ex-Marine who knew more about defense and killing than Charles ever wanted to know.

  He had told Grant who he needed kept out and Grant had said it would be no problem.

  His people would keep everyone out.

  Charles was just fine with that.

  Grant had just finished explaining the basic defenses of the estate. He had two dozen men, all with state-of-the-art weapons patrolling both the grounds and the house. Three men watched the security monitors at all times, taking shifts. Automatic alarms had been set on every inch of the grounds’ parameter. Grant was convinced that nothing was coming in that they didn’t know about.

  “Only one problem I see, Mr. Robins,” Grant said.

  “What’s that?” Robins asked. The last thing he needed tonight was problems. So far everything had gone perfectly. Senator Knight wouldn’t be voting later in the day and that was just about as perfect as it got.

  “An FBI surveillance van is parked across the street from the main gate,” Grant said without moving his hands from the parade rest position he had been standing in for five minutes, “and they have three other men stationed around the parameter of the estate in observation locations.”

  “FBI?” Robins asked, his stomach suddenly twisting in fear. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, sir,” Grant said, “I’m sure. You pay me to be sure.”

  “Any idea why they are out there?” Robins asked.

  “No, sir.”

  “Are they making any move to come in?” Robins asked.

  Grant shook his head. “No, sir. They are strictly in surveillance mode.”

  Robins nodded. “So anyone coming in here would have to get past them as well as your people.”

  “No one will get past my people,” Grant said. “But the FBI, in the configuration they are working out of, would make no move to stop anyone. The fight would be ours, sir.”

  Robins nodded. “Thank you, Grant. I will talk to you in the early morning.”

  “Have a good evening, sir,” Grant said. He spun and moved briskly out of the study, the heels of his boots making no sound on the hardwood floor.

  FBI? What were they doing out there?

  He felt himself panic and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths, his palms flat on the hard wood of his desk top.

  Clearly someone had put the vote tomorrow, and the implications to his companies’ future, together with the Senator’s accident. And since the FBI had failed in keeping the Senator from having his little spill down the hill, it would make sense they would cover all bases.

  He forced himself to take more deep breaths and relax and think.

  If anyone could prove anything, or even had a shred of evidence besides speculation, the FBI would have come in and taken him. So the fact that they were just in observation mode was good news as well.

  That thought released his fear.

  Of course. They had nothing on him but motive. And motive wasn’t enough to move against someone like him, even if they did prove it wasn’t an accident.

  Charles stood and moved over to his bar and poured himself a small glass of his finest scotch. It was almost time to get some sleep. The legislation that would have killed his companies would not be passed. And by the time it could come up again, he would have enough votes controlled to stop it completely.

  He had won.

  He should learn to relax a little and savor the victories.

  He downed the Scotch and moved toward the back entrance of his study that led up to his bedroom.

  A few hours sleep was exactly what he needed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Monday, April 10th

  1:37 a.m.

  BONNIE KNEW THAT even with Craig’s plans of sex tonight and tomorrow morning—which she liked the sound of a lot—they were going to be lucky to stay awake long enough to make it happen. The last two days had been very stressful to both of them, and after the dip in the soothing warm water of the hot tub, Craig looked almost as tired as she felt.

  Yet she wanted to make love to him as much as he said he wanted to make love to her. She could feel the desire slowly building, but she wasn’t going to push it to happen tonight. They still had tomorrow and tomorrow night. More than enough time before heading home. She was just happy that they were out of the entire mess with the Senator.

  She brushed her teeth and crawled into the wonderful-feeling clean sheets, letting them soothe her almost as much as the hot water had done earlier.

  Craig had just finished brushing his teeth and was coming out of the bathroom naked when there was a knock on the door.

  He glanced at her and she shrugged. One-thirty in the morning wasn’t a normal time for anyone to come knocking.

  “Who is it? Craig shouted at the door, moving at it to check through the peephole.

  “Room service,” Bonnie heard a man’s voice on the other side respond.

  Craig looked through the hole in the door, then said, “We didn’t order any room service.”

  “Yes, I know, sir,” Bonnie heard. “This is from a friend. A surprise.”

  Something was bothering her about that voice. About all this, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Craig glanced back at Bonnie and just shook his head. Then he shouted through the door. “Hold on a second.”

  “Who would send us something at this time of the night?” Bonnie asked Craig as he climbed into a pair of shorts and padded back toward the door.

  “I’m betting on Hagar,” Craig said. “Or the Senator.”

  Bonnie nodded. That was possible. The Senator was a kind-enough man to do something like this all the way from Washington D.C..

  But still, there was something wrong here.

  Craig opened the door and stood back as a man in a hotel uniform pushed a food cart into the room.

  “Hello,” the man said to Bonnie as she held the sheets up under her chin.

  Bonnie felt a shock run through her. She knew that voice from...

  Suddenly, just as Craig was about to let the door close, two other men burst in, both pointing pistols at Craig.

  “What the...?” Craig said, backing away from the door with his hands raised.

  Before Bonnie could even react, the man in the hotel uniform pul
led out a pistol and leveled it at her, motioning for her to remain still.

  She pulled the sheet up even farther over her breasts and stared at the man.

  The guy just smiled in return.

  The door closed behind the three armed gunmen with a resounding thud and Bonnie suddenly knew that she and Craig were far from out of this entire mess. In fact, they had just become part of the mess.

  “I would suggest you both put some clothes on,” the man in the hotel uniform said. “You’re going for a ride to visit a friend.” He smiled. “I told you it was a surprise.”

  Now Bonnie absolutely knew the voice. She would remember that voice anywhere. Standing in a hotel uniform with a gun pointed at her was the second man they had overheard on the golf course on Friday night.

  She glanced at Craig, but he was staring at the two guns pointed at him.

  “Let’s go, people,” the man said. “We honestly don’t have all night.”

  Bonnie hadn’t let another man see her nude since she married Craig, but at the moment it looked as if she didn’t have much choice in the matter. She had no doubt this guy would shoot her without a second thought. And dying in this hotel room wasn’t in her plans for the future.

  She tossed the sheet aside and stood, moving over to where she had dropped her shorts and blouse when she had put on her swimming suit. With her back to the man, she dressed quickly.

  By the time she turned around to again face the guns, Craig had on a golf shirt and was slipping on tennis shoes.

  She retrieved her tennis shoes from near the bed and put them on as well.

  When she stood, the man in the hotel uniform said, “Good. Now all three of us are going to walk down the hall and through the hotel lobby to a waiting limousine I have out front.”

  He pulled off the hotel uniform jacket and untucked his shirt to make himself look like a guest.

  Craig glanced at Bonnie, but said nothing.

  The man pointed his gun at Craig. “Detective, one false move in the hall or lobby and your pretty wife here will be the first to die, I promise you. My men and I have no problem firing in a public place. Chances are she will not be the only person to die. Am I understood?”