Mud Run Murder

by Leslie Langtry

  "I'm so sorry," Maria said. She really did look sorry. I relaxed a bit. "I couldn't tell you before because Riley and especially Deputy Director Lewis couldn't know."

  I threw my arms up in the air. "Know? About what?"

  Maria's eye caught the glitter on my finger, and she started squealing like a schoolgirl.

  "Oh my God! He proposed! When? Why didn't you tell me?" She held up my hand and appraised the ring.

  "Well, for one, it just happened tonight. And secondly, you were missing."

  I sounded angry, but I was secretly pleased she'd noticed. I'd like to think I'd react the same way.

  Abed and Kurt ran over and stared at the ring. That was weird.

  "I can't believe it! I never thought he'd do it!" Maria elbowed the men out of the way, and they went and sat down, dejected.

  "Me neither. Marriage was the furthest thing from my mind when Rex asked me."

  Maria looked startled for a moment but recovered smoothly. "Congratulations to you and to Rex."

  Did I imagine it, or did she hesitate a split second before saying my new fiancé's name?

  I pointed at her. "You thought it was Riley!"

  Maria sighed. "Yes. Sorry about that. Just a mix-up. You should stop dating men whose names begin with R."

  That was a lie. However, there was no time for that. I needed to know what was going on, and I needed to know now.

  "Why all the cloak-and-dagger?" I asked.

  "Technically, it's way above your pay grade…" Maria said.

  "Technically, I'm not a spy anymore."

  "Right. Right." Maria picked up a remote, and the screen came alive.

  It was a view of the police station downtown. They had bugged the station? The only one there was Kevin who was working his way through a dozen donuts.

  "I'm sure you've figured out what's going on," Maria started.

  "Yes, of course I did," I lied. "But tell me in your own words."

  My friend hesitated. "So you know about Riley writing the book. And you know the Russians stole it and turned it into a movie."

  "Old intel." I waved her off. "The Agency shut it down because of classified cases and the mention of the Yaro Plans."

  Maria nodded. "That's right. They paid the pizza guy to keep an eye on you because you eat pizza all the time."

  "Hey!" I protested. "Not all the time." Was I that predictable?

  "And the Russians killed Dewey because they thought he had the script."

  "Gruff and Ferret." I nodded. "So the Agency brought Pinter out of retirement to get it back."

  Maria froze.

  "I'm wrong about that part?"

  She nodded. "Pinter wasn't working for the CIA."

  "So who hired him?" All this espionage was so confusing. "The Russians?"

  She shook her head.

  "Was it whoever stole the book from Riley in the first place?"

  "Yes."

  "Can you tell me who it was so that I can kill them and get on with my life?" I was tired and wanted to go home and stare at my ring some more.

  "I can. The person who stole the book, gave it to the Russians, and hired Pinter to steal it back from them…"

  All the blood drained from my head, making me dizzy. "It was you."

  Maria nodded. "It was me."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I really wanted to punch her. But I didn't. Partly because she had gone all giddy over my ring. And partly because she was my friend and had what I assumed was the most brilliant explanation ever. And if she didn't, then I'd punch her.

  "Why? And after all these years of friendship…" I wondered.

  "Which were totally real. We worked together for the CIA. And I was legit. Until a year ago."

  "Who do you work for?" I growled, fists at my sides.

  "It's not like that." Maria took a millistep back, but I recognized the defensive stance.

  "You're a traitor? How is that possible? In what dimension is that possible?"

  Maria took a deep breath. "I'm not a traitor. I don't work for any other government."

  "So what are you then?"

  "I'm a patriot."

  Patriot. That was a loaded word. John Adams and George Washington were patriots. But then so were Hitler and Stalin.

  "You have five minutes to explain before I take you in."

  It was a bold bluff. I wasn't armed with anything more than pocket lint. She and the boys didn't appear to be armed either, but I learned a long time ago not to assume anything.

  "It all started last year when I was promoted. My security clearance gave me access to very sensitive intel. That's when I found out about the Yaro Plans."

  She seemed to want me to react a certain way, but I was still a mess of emotions. And one of them was that I wished I'd never heard of the Yaro Plans.

  "I'm not a traitor. I'm a patriot because what I really am is a whistle-blower."

  I stared at her. "You wanted to let the world know about the Yaro Plans?"

  "I wanted to level the playing field, Merry. Something like this…I don't want to say that it's unfair, because it's so much worse than that."

  I thought about Edward Snowden—a man who also thought he was a patriot. A man who now hid in Russia.

  "That isn't our decision, Maria," I said evenly.

  "It's wrong, Merry. One nation, even if it's mine, shouldn't have all that access to everything. Do you know what might happen? What would stop the leadership of the US from using that intel to kill other operatives, start wars between other nations, blackmail politicians throughout the world, or all of the other horrible possibilities?"

  My legs were wobbly, and I went to sit down on one of the couches. Abed offered me some peanut butter sandwich cookies, but I shook my head.

  "When we joined the CIA," I said slowly, "we vowed to support and defend our country."

  "To me, that means even from itself. Think about it for a minute, Merry. One country has access to the only two major software companies? It's too much power. Power no one should have. The playing field should be level. It won't be once Yaro goes into effect. Why should the US have such power?"

  "Why the Russians? You could've given it to the UK or Germany. A country less hostile to us."

  Maria sat down next to me. "They're allies. What if they liked the idea? What if they just went along with it? It had to be someone on the opposite side. And it doesn't give them the technology. It just…"

  "Levels the playing field," I repeated her words.

  We sat in silence for a while. I needed to wrap my head around this. Maria was right. I understood that. I looked up and watched Kevin, covered in powdered sugar, as he struggled to open a bag of chips.

  "Why involve me?" I asked weakly. "You kind of turned my life upside down."

  "I am sorry about that. I really am. It was an opportunity I had to take. The minute I knew about Riley's book, I had to jump on that."

  "How did you know about Riley's book in the first place?"

  She hesitated. It was clear that she didn't want to tell me.

  "You've ruined his career, Maria. You might as well tell me."

  "Riley and I worked together on a case and became friends. One night in Estonia we drank too much, and he told me about the book. And about his feelings for you."

  I held up my index finger. "Do not distract me with Riley's feelings. Stay on topic."

  She nodded in agreement, "Anyway, I saw this as my opportunity to out Yaro."

  "How did you get it away from him?"

  "I got him to open his safe and show it to me. He passed out cold, and I closed the safe and slipped away with the book."

  I said nothing.

  "I never wanted to hurt you or Riley. But this is much, much bigger than all of us."

  I thought about Maria. She was the kindest person I knew. If you needed help, she'd show up with ammo and a bazooka. I guess I could see how she'd be horrified by the idea of the Yaro Plans. What I couldn't understand was that she actually went ro
gue.

  "So what happens now?" I asked.

  "Abed and Kurt go back to Langley and keep an eye on things for me. I've told them they are not to act on anything—just let me know if the Agency comes close to finding me."

  "Finding you?" Of course—she had to leave.

  Maria nodded sadly. "Russia's offered me a home, but there's no way I'm going there. You know how I hate cold weather."

  "I'm guessing you won't tell me?"

  "It's better this way. It's the least I can do to keep you out of whatever happens next."

  "So this is good-bye?" My eyes welled up a little.

  "It is." She hugged me.

  "I suppose you're going to turn down the option of being one of my bridesmaids, then."

  Maria laughed. "Send me a video." She got to her feet, and I realized Abed and Kurt were gone.

  "And this place?" I asked.

  "Will be 'accidentally' burned to the ground in the wee hours of the morning. Faulty wiring, I'm afraid. So dangerous."

  We laughed, but I didn't feel better. I was still extremely conflicted as I walked out into the rear parking lot. I looked back and saw a spark go up. It turned into flames a few moments later. I ran to the front to make sure the teen at the counter was gone. She was.

  I ran inside and grabbed a pint of Ben & Jerry's and a box of plastic spoons before the front of the building caught fire. Sitting on the curb across the street, I dug in and watched the fire. I ate the whole pint.

  It didn't take long for the fire department to arrive, quickly followed by Rex and an ambulance. He didn't see me, and I didn't make my presence known. I wasn't going to lie to Rex about Maria. But I could give her a little more time to get away. I liked her too much to turn her in right now.

  I got home before Rex and snuck into my house to see if Riley was there. He wasn't. I called him. He didn't answer, but I left him a message explaining that I needed to see him. Depressed and exhausted, I walked across the street to Rex's house and crawled into bed. And then I screamed.

  Philby had left a dead mouse on my pillow. It was actually kind of sweet of her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  "What I don't understand," I began as I shook the pancake mix. I'd finally started learning to cook. Well, it was just a container you poured water into and shook, but that counts.

  "Is how the CIA surveilled me in my own neighborhood." I poured a lumpy spoonful of batter onto the sizzling skillet. "I've looked everywhere and can't find so much as one camera."

  After I'd told him everything, Rex had invited Deputy Director Lewis over for breakfast in an attempt to get him to leave me alone. No one wants to be watched forever. I'd made up a story about being drugged with convenience store junk food and finding myself back at Rex's place. I never had heard back from Riley.

  Lewis gave me a strange look and texted someone on his cell. "I'm surprised you didn't figure it out, Wrath. We had a man on the inside."

  "The inside of my neighborhood?" I burned my thumb and winced. "That's rude."

  Rex wasn't having it. "How could you possibly have a plant here? We know everyone."

  There was a knock at the kitchen door. Rex's kitchen led to the back deck.

  "Come on in," Lewis growled. That seemed a little rude, being that this was Rex's house and all.

  Elmer walked in and sat down. He was in a suit. He was wearing pants. And he looked about thirty years younger.

  "You?" I pointed the spatula at him. I'd have brained him with the skillet if I wasn't trying hard to make a good impression by cooking.

  He nodded. "Sorry about that."

  Rex took it better than I did. "You did a good job on your cover. I seriously believed you were a crazy old man. What about Ethel? Is she an agent too?"

  "My mother," Elmer smiled. "And no, she's not an agent. She really does live here."

  Lewis clapped Elmer on the back. He didn't introduce him by his real name, but that's how it was in this line of work. "He's one of our best undercover agents."

  I gave up on my anger. "Well, you were very convincing. But I think you went a bit too far with the pants thing."

  The deputy director looked confused. "Pants? There was nothing in the report about pants."

  I nodded. "Yeah. He either had none on or they were always falling off."

  We all turned and stared at him, but Elmer didn't say a word.

  I decided for the sake of my own sanity to move on. "One more question." I flipped the pancakes onto a plate. "What about Pinter's murder? How did the killer get out of the room without me seeing them?"

  The two men looked at each other.

  "It's classified," Lewis said finally.

  I wondered if that meant that the Agency had killed Pinter. But they couldn't admit that. Especially in front of the policeman in the form of my fiancé. And, quite frankly, I didn't want to know.

  Rex stood up. "I'd better go check on that thing in the garage." He walked out the door because he didn't want to know what had happened. He probably wasn't sure how to arrest a CIA agent for murder. I wasn't sure myself.

  I narrowed my eyes at the men. I was pretty sure Elmer had killed Pinter, but I'd never get confirmation on that. So I settled.

  "How did whoever it was get out of my house without being seen?"

  I even put my hands on my hips for emphasis. I was going to get to the truth of this, or I'd lie awake in bed for the rest of my life wondering if there was a wormhole or some secret doorway to another dimension in my guest room.

  Elmer cleared his throat. "Well, if I knew whatever it was you're talking about, I'd guess that maybe the killer got out of the guest room before you came down that hallway. He or she probably hid out in your coat closet until everyone was gone. At least that's what I'd guess happened. I don't actually know, of course."

  That was the best I was going to get. I was pretty mad about the whole thing.

  Philby trotted into the kitchen and sat at Elmer's feet.

  "Your cat looks like Hitler," he said as he reached down to scratch her between the ears.

  Philby began to make a hacking sound that I recognized, but I decided not to warn the two men sitting at Rex's table. After a second or two my cat coughed up a small, round gray thing onto Elmer's shoes.

  "Is that what I think it is?" Rex's fake neighbor drew back in horror.

  I squinted at the object then turned back to the pancakes to hide my smile. "We have mice."

  Philby had just coughed up a mouse skull. And mentally I made a note to give her a whole can of tuna once these guys left.

  * * *

  A few days later, after the CIA had cleared out of town (and insisted that they'd never been there in the first place), things started to get back to normal. Kelly and Finn were back from Omaha, and Allie (from the mud run) was at our troop meeting to hand over a trophy and the certificate for a free camping trip at the legendary Camp North Star.

  The girls mobbed her, and she didn't seem to mind drowning in a sea of third-graders.

  "What I don't get," Kelly whispered, "is the matchbook to Joie de Poulet. How did it get into the knife? And why?"

  Maria had sent me a text. The Coats for Cats team was actually her and Abed in ski masks. They had left the knife for me to find and had lured Gruff and Ferret to the restaurant as well. The idea had been that I'd arrest or kill the Russians, tying up that loose end. She really didn't want them to get off scot-free. Maria had only involved them to make her point.

  "No idea," I lied. It was classified, and Kelly seemed to understand that.

  I held out my hand and stared at the ring. It still hadn't hit me. The girls had loved the news, and Kelly had promised to be my matron of honor—whatever that was. The girls were all jockeying for the allegedly prized flower girl spot. I wondered if I could have twelve. Philby could be the ring bearer.

  It was all a moot point anyway since we hadn't set a date or anything.

  Allie finally got the mob to sit down, utilizing the extremely efficient
quiet sign. They sat in a circle around her and watched as she pulled a piece of paper out of her bag.

  "I've got a surprise for you." She smiled.

  Cries of "What?" And "Why?" And "Where?" went up around her. I thought I heard Betty ask, "Is it a stack of unmarked and untraceable hundred dollar bills?" But I couldn't be sure.

  "The national zoo is loaning our local zoo one of their animals for a year!"

  Cheers went up, even though they had no idea what it would be. I was just about to ask why this was a big deal for us when she revealed the picture on the paper.

  "Oh no," I said, but you couldn't hear it over the screams of my troop.

  "I don't believe it," Kelly said. "Is that who I think it is?"

  I nodded. Mr. Fancy Pants, the king vulture at the Smithsonian, was coming to town.

  Was it too late to go back to the CIA?

  * * * * *

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Leslie Langtry is the USA Today bestselling author of the Greatest Hits Mysteries series, Sex, Lies, & Family Vacations, The Hanging Tree Tales as Max Deimos, the Merry Wrath Mysteries, and several books she hasn't finished yet, because she's very lazy.

  Leslie loves puppies and cake (but she will not share her cake with puppies) and thinks praying mantids make everything better. She lives with her family and assorted animals in the Midwest, where she is currently working on her next book and trying to learn to play the ukulele.

  To learn more about Leslie, visit her online at: http://www.leslielangtry.com

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  BOOKS BY LESLIE LANGTRY

  Merry Wrath Mysteries

  Merit Badge Murder