“Sure,” I said. “I’ll go do that. But in the meantime, why don’t you tell me what happened to Stone in Afghanistan?”
There were a few long seconds of silence, and my heart rate slowed down in anticipation. What had happened in the past, and why had Stone really gotten into trouble?
And then Johnson replied slowly, his voice floating down the other end of the line. “All I can tell you at this stage is that Eli Cohen used to work for the CIA and was on the same team as Stone. He retired a few years after Stone had to disappear. He’s not with the Agency anymore, and he has some kind of business down in Florida. However, he’s still got very good contacts in all the agencies, and we’re not sure what he’s up to and why he’s here.”
“And what happened in Afghanistan?”
“I know Stone promised you I’d tell you today, but I can’t. I don’t want to get distracted on the job.”
My heart fell, and anger bubbled up deep inside me. I felt like I’d been played, as though I’d had a carrot dangled in front of my nose, and now the carrot had been taken away.
“This isn’t what I agreed to,” I said sharply.
“I know,” said Johnson. His voice sounded somber and unhappy. “I don’t want you to think I intended to trick you. As soon as this job’s over, and I don’t need to stress about it, I’ll tell you. I promise. It’s just that this Eli person—I don’t trust him, and I don’t want to get distracted.”
I wondered if I should trust Johnson. But what choice did I have? I was determined to help Stone, and even if I never found out the truth about what had happened in Afghanistan, I’d still help him. Perhaps that made me seem like a bit of a fool, but I didn’t think I was being stupid in placing my trust in Stone.
“I promised to help Stone,” I said slowly. “I hope you keep your end of the bargain.”
“Absolutely,” said Johnson. “Now, we’d better concentrate on finding out why Eli is in Vegas. Of course, it might not be anything—maybe he’s just here for some gambling.”
***
I drove over to the Rent-A-Car Center on Gilespie and parked on the ground floor, near the exit.
The spot I chose gave me a good view of all the existing cars, and I knew that nobody would bother me—all the car rental company employees would be busy parking cars and heading across the street to collect cars that had just been returned. Even if somebody did notice me sitting by myself, they’d just assume I was an employee on a break.
I texted Johnson to tell him I was in position, and he sent me a reply, saying we’d communicate by text for a bit.
I spent the next hour alternating between trying to calm my jittery nerves and zoning out.
Johnson would definitely text me once he’d spotted Eli heading out—but what if he forgot? What if Eli somehow managed to get into a taxi or grab a rental car and head off on his own?
Finally, a few minutes past seven thirty, I got the text saying Eli had been spotted. A few seconds later, there was another text letting me know that Eli had picked up keys from the Hertz counter and was heading toward the shuttle bus that would bring him to the Rent-A-Car Center.
The Rent-A-Car Center was five miles from the airport, so I knew I had just a few minutes before it was time to start tailing Eli. I watched as the latest shuttle arrived with its crew of Vegas visitors, but I couldn’t spot Eli among the passengers.
A few minutes later, however, I got another text from Johnson—this time informing me that Eli was getting into a black Toyota Camry, the last two digits of whose license plate were 36.
I started my engine and backed out of my parking spot slowly. A few seconds later, I saw the black Camry leaving the Rent-A-Car Center, and I followed it out onto East Tropicana.
After letting a car get between us to make myself seem less noticeable, I followed the Camry over to the Watermark Resort, a family-friendly resort that was just off-Strip.
Eli pulled up to the valet, tossed over his keys, and headed inside. I took a split second to make my decision and continued to drive slowly past the resort.
I managed to find a spot to park for a few minutes while I called Johnson and gave him the latest update.
“Stone worked with the head of Watermark Security, Mark Caldwell,” said Johnson. “We lucked out.”
“Maybe that’s why Eli’s staying here? To try to talk to Mark?”
“Maybe—but he won’t get very far. Of course, even if Eli’d gone somewhere else, we would have managed to find someone who was a friend of a friend of Stone’s.”
“Now what?”
“Stay where you are—I’m on my way over, and I’m going to give Mark a call, just to give him a heads up of what we’re dealing with. Eli won’t be able to leave without us knowing.”
I hung up and waited uneasily. Even if the security guy told us when Eli left, it might be too late for me to follow him out.
A few minutes later, I got a call from Johnson again.
“I’m at the Watermark, in the security room,” he said. “Mark’s going to help us set things up here. I’ll let you know as soon as Eli leaves his room so that you can start your car.”
I wished him luck and hung up—and a few minutes later, my phone buzzed again. This time, it was Johnson saying that Eli had gotten into the elevator and was most likely going to be leaving the hotel.
I started my engine and waited till I saw the black Camry pull up ahead of me, and then slowly, carefully, I started to follow Eli down the streets of Vegas.
Chapter 10
I watched uncomprehendingly as Eli pulled into a parking spot near the Las Vegas Police Department. A sudden rush of panic flooded through my veins—had something gone wrong? Was Eli here to report something?
I wondered if someone in the Vegas Police Department was feeding Eli information about Stone, and then I gave myself a quick shake. There was no point sitting here and panicking—I needed to find out what was going on, without revealing myself to Eli.
Quickly, I gave Ryan a call.
He answered on the second ring, sounding surprised to hear from me.
“You never call me on weekdays,” he said half-teasingly. “You’re usually asleep or working on some case.”
“Actually,” I said, feeling quite sheepish, “I am working on a case.”
“Oh? And let me guess, you’re going to ask me for a favor.”
I nodded, even though Ryan couldn’t see me.
“It’s just a tiny thing,” I said and described Eli Cohen to him. “Have you seen this man? I saw him walking into the precinct a minute or so ago.”
“I’ll go have a look around,” said Ryan, sounding surprised. “You saw him walk in a minute ago? So you’re just sitting outside…”
“I am,” I said quickly. “It’s a surveillance job—and it’s not just a regular case. I need you to keep this a secret. This man, Eli, he used to be with the CIA. I think he might be dangerous; I don’t know what he wants in Vegas.”
“I’ll have a look,” said Ryan softly.
There was silence for a few long minutes, and then I heard Ryan’s voice drift across the line again. “Tiff? You still there?”
“Yes,” I said, my heart pounding loudly inside my body. “What did you find out?”
“He’s here, talking to Detective Elwood.”
“Elwood?” I leaned back, unable to keep the surprise and disappointment out of my voice. “What would he be talking to Elwood about?”
“I thought you’d know that.”
“I’m completely in the dark. You didn’t hear any of their conversation, did you?”
“I couldn’t make out most of it,” said Ryan softly. “But I heard Elwood saying, “No, I never liked him, but I don’t know where he is.” What’s this all about?”
I knit my brows together and took a few seconds to process it all.
“I’m really not sure,” I said finally. “Do you think you’d be able to overhear any more of the conversation?”
“That would l
ook incredibly suspicious,” said Ryan. “I don’t think I should do that.”
“I understand.” I didn’t want to force Ryan into doing something that could jeopardize his job, or get him into trouble with this Eli Cohen. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome,” he said slowly. “And it seems like they’re done anyway. Eli’s standing up to say goodbye… I guess I’ll talk to you later, then?”
“Sure,” I said, starting up my engine again. “Thanks for your help.”
A few long seconds later, Eli re-emerged, and I watched as he got back into his car and drove off. Once again, I tailed him slowly, careful to keep a car between us at all times as he meandered down familiar streets.
When he finally pulled up on a quiet side street, I parked two cars behind him and watched as he crossed the street to an apartment building on the other side.
It was only as I watched him enter the gate that my eyes widened, my heart leaped into my throat, and I realized where I was.
Eli Cohen had come over to my apartment.
Chapter 11
My first instinct was to race into the building and somehow stop Eli from getting to my apartment. My second instinct was to call Ian and have him escort Eli out of the building like a security guard.
But neither of those two things would be possible—at least, not without making Eli suspicious about what was going on.
I sat in panicked silence for a few more seconds.
It was too late to race inside and try to beat Eli to my apartment. If I walked in now and appeared behind him a minute or two later, Eli might wonder how I’d gotten there so soon after him.
Finally, I decided that the best course of action was to wait in my car for another fifteen minutes and to give Johnson a call to update him on the latest.
Johnson didn’t seem all that surprised when I told him that Eli had come over to my apartment, and he agreed that my plan to walk in a while later was probably the best course of action.
“I’ll head over to your place now,” he said. “That way, I can be the one to follow Eli after he drives off. It’ll look less suspicious than you running down behind him when he leaves, and jumping into your car.”
“That makes sense. How’s the hotel surveillance going?”
“Good,” said Johnson. “Eli must’ve done a sweep for bugs when he checked in. But I’ve managed to get access to his room, and I disabled his sweeper and installed a couple of discreet bugs. We’ll find out more about what he’s up to when he gets back to the hotel.”
After I hung up, I wondered if Eli would recognize me when we met—after all, I’d just spent the last couple of hours following him around.
And then I remembered the “zombie apocalypse survival bag” that Ian made me keep in my car at all times—in addition to “zombie repellant powder,” blankets and dried food, the bag also contained wigs, disguises and some extra clothes.
I wasn’t too confident about wearing a wig when I went in to meet Eli, but I found a pair of large glasses that made me look hipsterish, and a black T-shirt that I pulled on over my tank top. I tied my hair back, smeared on some dark maroon lipstick, and checked out my reflection.
“You look like a completely different person now,” I told myself.
I took a deep breath and headed upstairs to face Eli.
***
The voices hit me as soon as I stepped out of the elevator.
“I don’t know her name,” my octogenarian next-door neighbor Mrs. Weebly was saying. “Why do you have to go around knocking on people’s doors, asking about their neighbors?”
“I’m just trying to talk to her,” Eli was saying. “If you don’t know her, maybe I can ask someone else.”
“I’m not going to have you create a ruckus by knocking on everyone’s door,” Mrs. Weebly said. “Harassing poor old women like me! I have a good mind to call the cops on you.”
“I’m not doing anything illegal,” Eli said. “I just need to talk to Tiffany Black. I’m a friend of hers.”
“I don’t believe you,” said Mrs. Weebly. “I know all her friends.”
“I thought you didn’t know anyone by that name,” said Eli.
Mrs. Weebly looked taken aback, and then she spotted me out of the corner of her eye. Eli turned around to follow her gaze, and I forced myself to smile brightly.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Weebly,” I said, appreciating the effort she’d made to try to protect me. “I’m sure this man has some good reason for wanting to talk to me.”
Eli walked forward and extended his hand to shake mine. “I’m Eli,” he said politely. “I guess I should’ve called before trying to meet you, but I didn’t have your phone number.”
I didn’t believe that Eli couldn’t get hold of my phone number; for some reason, he must’ve thought it better to spring a surprise visit on me. But I kept my thoughts to myself and said, “Why don’t we head into my apartment, and then you can tell me what this is all about?”
A few minutes later, Eli and I were sitting opposite each other. I had my handbag right next to me; for once, I’d remembered to pack my gun, and I wanted to make sure I could access it easily if I needed to. Although, Eli didn’t seem to have arrived with any violent intentions.
“I worked closely with your friend Jonathan Stone in Afghanistan,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “We were very good friends.”
Up close, his salt-and-pepper hair and gray eyes made him look more like a college professor than a former CIA operative.
I nodded politely. Eli seemed to be relaxed and cheerful, but I was sure he was busy observing me carefully. “What’s this all about?”
“I’m trying to get in touch with Stone. There’s something important I need to discuss with him, but nobody seems to know where he is.”
I shrugged. “I can’t help you there. I haven’t seen Stone in ages myself, and I haven’t got a clue where he is.”
“I’m sure that’s true. Stone can be very secretive at times.”
I smiled politely. “Yes, he could be. Did you know him very well?”
“We worked together in Afghanistan,” repeated Eli with a sigh. “He was a great guy—until he went rogue.”
“What do you mean, went rogue?”
Eli shook his head. “He was young, a good kid. But he kept getting these ideas in his head—that he needed to do something, something revolutionary. And then I’m not sure what happened—he ended up kidnapping two women, and then he exposed our unit to the authorities.”
I frowned, unable to help myself. This was the story I kept hearing from everyone—first the two CIA men who’d come to talk to me about Stone, and now Eli Cohen. I couldn’t believe it, of course, but I wondered what the alternative was. Perhaps Stone had done something that made people think he’d betrayed them, something that made them wrongly think that he’d kidnapped two women.
“That doesn’t sound like the Stone I know,” I said, unable to help myself. “When I knew him, he was always very nice and helpful.”
Eli nodded. “I’m sure he gave off that vibe. I know he worked here, providing security services to casinos and businessmen. But none of them seem to want to talk to me. I’ve tried making appointments with many of them, but they just won’t meet me. It’s almost as though someone warned them off.”
Eli fixed his eyes on me, and I stared back, unflinchingly. Sure, I’d called up everyone I knew Stone had worked for and warned them about Eli, telling them not to talk to him. But that’s what friends were for.
“Are you sure there’s absolutely nothing you can tell me about Stone?” said Eli. “When did you last see him?”
“At least a few months ago,” I said. “I wasn’t really close with him—I’ve got no idea where he is.”
“What about where he used to live? Or where his office used to be?”
I shook my head, despite the fact that I knew the answers to those questions. “I’ve got no idea. Like I said, Stone is a secretive person.”
&
nbsp; “I was given the impression that you and Stone were very… close.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Who told you that?”
Eli shrugged. “I did some research.”
“Clearly, your research is way off. Stone and I were never that close.”
“So you never dated him?”
I felt the anger rising up in my chest. “No, not that it’s any of your business. I’ve got a boyfriend. Like I said, I didn’t know Stone very well, and we weren’t close.”
Eli was watching me carefully, and I wondered if my anger was a giveaway for my emotions. I didn’t know what to do—part of me wanted to keep protesting that Stone and I barely knew each other, that there was nothing between us, that I didn’t even like the guy. I felt like I was in middle school, being teased about a guy I liked—but of course, the stakes were so much higher now.
Just then, there was a knock on the door, and I opened it gratefully, expecting to see Mrs. Weebly.
Instead, it turned out to be Ian.
“Ian!” I said. “What are you doing here?”
Ian beamed at me and held out a plateful of cupcakes. They looked delicious and moist, the icing just begging to be licked off.
“I baked hazelnut cupcakes last night,” said Ian, “didn’t you get my note?”
I looked at him, panic rising up through my body. What if Ian suddenly said something about Stone? Or asked me how my job trying to help Stone was going? I began to kick myself mentally for not telling Ian about Eli Cohen—but it was too late now.
Ian seemed to notice Eli for the first time, and after handing the plate of delicious-looking cupcakes to me, he turned to shake hands with Eli.
“I’m Ian,” he said. “Tiffany’s friend.”
“Eli Cohen. I was just asking Tiffany some questions about her friend Stone.”
High Stakes and Hazelnut Cupcakes in Las Vegas Page 7
