“DAMN! THAT BLOWS rr ALL to hell!” Steve hung up the phone, his angry words immediately grabbing Andi and Jim’s attention. He surveyed the living room, as if looking for something. “Where’s the morning newspaper?”
“What’s the matter, Steve?” Andi handed him the paper she had just retrieved from the front porch.
“A little news item that may or may not make it into the San Diego newspapers. It seems that one Ross Durant, an employee of the federal government, was found dead in his car. The official statement said that he apparently fell asleep at the wheel and ran off the road.” Steve quickly scanned the paper for any mention of the incident.
“You think he was the person Benny was referring to last night?” Andi looked over Steve’s shoulder, glancing at the newspaper.
Jim added his thoughts. “I remember him. He was assigned to me while I was in protective custody after I got out of the hospital and was part of the transition into the witness program. He was certainly in a position to provide Buchanan with the information.”
Steve put down the newspaper and turned toward Jim, a quizzical expression on his face. “Could he have been the one who made the second attempt on your life?”
“No, I don’t think so. That voice was nothing like Ross’s. The killer had a deep, raspy voice—almost like something out of an old gangster movie. I don’t recall having ever heard the killer’s voice before, but I’d sure know it if I heard it again.”
Jim furrowed his brow in concentration for a moment. “This is sure a rotten bit of luck. If he could have named Buchanan directly, it would have given us—”
“There wasn’t any luck involved in this, bad or otherwise. According to the source I was just talking to, the real story is that Durant was dead before the car ever went off the road. I would surmise that his greedy play for money alerted Milo Buchanan to his attempts to play both ends against the middle and caused the sudden health problem Benny mentioned. Buchanan simply decided to tidy up some loose ends.”
“So, where does this leave us?” Jim asked his question before Andi had a chance to ask the same question. “It looks to me as if we’re at a dead end.” And I should be packing my bag and getting the hell out of here right now. But that was a thought he decided to keep to himself for the time being, at least until he knew all his options.
“Not at all. We can now comfortably surmise that Ross Durant was the leak. There’s no reason for Benny to think that Andi would know who Durant was or what connection he had to the case. Even if he did suspect that her research might have turned up Durant’s name, there’s no reason for her to know about a routine traffic death that happened two thousand miles from here. There’s nothing in your local newspaper about Durant’s death. We’ll go ahead and contact Benny just like we arranged.”
Jim furrowed his brow in confusion. “How does this get us to Milo Buchanan? Benny had a contact with Ross Durant, but that doesn’t put him anywhere near Buchanan. In fact, it would seem to me that in light of what happened to Durant that Benny would find himself a deep hole to hide in and pull it in on top of him.”
“Exactly.” The knowing grin tugged at the corners of Steve’s mouth. “And he’ll probably need to score some quick cash in order to do that. I’ve listened to the tape of last night’s meeting several times and I think Benny probably knows the identity of the hit man.”
Andi slipped her arm around Jim’s waist and looked up at his worried face. “Steve knows his job. He has contacts all over the world.” She allowed a teasing grin. “After all, he was able to discern that Jim Richards had only existed for the time he had worked at the resort, and he did that in a foreign country with less than two days to come up with the information.” The teasing grin faded from her face when she saw the seriousness in his eyes.
“Yes...so much has happened in the last few days that I had almost forgotten how all of this started.” The sadness in his voice hung heavily in the air. He did not know what he was feeling at that moment. His entire existence had turned into an emotional roller coaster ride. Every time he thought the nightmare ride was about to come to an end, it would suddenly take another death-defying plunge into the unknown.
Chapter Nine
A slight scowl lingered on Steve’s face as he watched Andi and Jim. “Andi...I’m going to be gone for a day or two. Call the car rental agency and see if they can pick up the van. I don’t want you and Jim to take a chance on being spotted at the airport. In fact—” he turned his attention directly on Jim “—I don’t want you to go outside at all.”
Jim started to protest being given orders, but Andi spoke before he had a chance to say anything.
“You’re leaving?” The surprise in her voice was unmistakable. This was the last thing she had expected from Steve. He had not talked to her about the decision or the reason behind it. This was not the type of working relationship they had enjoyed over the years. “Where are you going?”
Steve ignored her question. “I’ll call you later today.”
“But what about Benny? The deadline is tonight.”
Steve pointedly stared at her, his words emphatic and precise. “I’ll call you later today.” He left no room for further conversation. He quickly packed his suitcase and left the house without offering an explanation or additional instructions.
Jim and Andi watched through the front window as Steve drove down the street. When Steve was out of sight, Jim turned to her. His last vestige of control over an uncertain situation finally deserted him. His voice contained an unmistakable frustration tinged with a growing irritation. The limits of trust me had just been exceeded.
“What the hell is going on here, Andi? Why did Steve take off and where is he going? What are you keeping from me?”
“I’m not keeping anything from you. I...” His gaze was so intense that it caused a slight tremor to dart through her body. “I don’t know what Steve has in mind. He didn’t tell me.” Her words were soft and had a distracted quality about them. “We’ll just have to wait here until he calls.” She was as puzzled as Jim about what had happened. Steve’s sudden actions made no sense to her at all.
Sarcasm clung to his words. “I don’t think so, Andi. We don’t have to do any such thing.” He felt the anger building inside him. “I can’t—I won’t just sit around here waiting for Steve to decide to tell us what he’s doing.”
He had allowed all of this to go on far too long. He fought to separate reality from his fears and suspicions. “I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to be understanding. But from the time of our arrival in La Jolla, the three of us have been together twenty-four hours a day. Now all of a sudden this man who is a complete stranger to me takes off without giving a reason or destination and leaves us here with only questions and no answers. Maybe you trust Steve and accept his actions on blind faith, but I sure don’t.”
She placed her hand on his arm and looked into the trepidation that filled his eyes. “If you can’t trust Steve, can you at least trust me? Please, Jim. Give it another day. Whatever Steve’s doing is in your best interest. I promise you.”
He saw the pleading in her eyes and heard the heartfelt sincerity in her voice. It touched a warm spot inside him. Had he allowed his deep feelings for Andi to cloud his better judgment? Was he being taken for a ride and played for a fool? Why would Steve Westerfall be concerned with Jim Hollander’s best interests? It was a question that gnawed at his insides. Nothing was going according to plan, and none of it made any sense to him.
He took a calming breath and tried to force his doubts away. If his feelings for Andi were real, then he should trust her. He walked over to the living room window and stared out at the street. Maybe one more day, long enough to see what results her meeting with Benny later on that night would produce. Besides, being in an isolated area of Los Angeles and close to the airport would make it easier for him to slip away and get lost in the shadows. No one would know whether he had stayed in the city or had gotten on a plane, and with such a la
rge and busy airport as Los Angeles International it could be a plane to anywhere in the world. At least that would work in his favor.
He continued to stare out the window. Everything outside seemed quiet—perhaps too quiet. He tried to shake away the ever-present skepticism and the disturbing feeling that things were not as they appeared to be.
ACROSS THE STREET and over one house a lone figure stood at the living room window staring at Andi’s house. He raised the rifle to his shoulder and adjusted the telescopic sight until the image was sharp and clear, the crosshairs squarely in the middle of Jim’s forehead. “He’s such an easy target. One little squeeze of the trigger and he’d be history.” He lowered the rifle, then leaned it against the wall. He continued to watch Andi’s house.
STEVE MADE A SERIES of calls from his car, then placed a call to Phil Herman. “That’s where things stand now, Phil. The final arrangements are being put into place at this moment. I should have confirmation within the next few hours. I don’t expect anything serious to happen until tomorrow night. My original thought was to have Andi go ahead and meet with Benny tonight. It would have been interesting to know what kind of information he would have passed along in light of Ross Durant’s untimely demise. Unfortunately things aren’t coming together as quickly as I had hoped, so she’s going to have to stall Benny for an additional twenty-four hours.”
He listened for a moment, then responded. “No, I don’t think that’s going to be any problem. After watching them for the past couple of days, I’m firmly convinced that he won’t get very far away from her. He doesn’t like it, but he’ll stay put—at least until they’ve heard from me. He is an unknown factor, though. He doesn’t quite fit in with what I was expecting.”
He paused a moment as he collected his thoughts. “I also hadn’t anticipated that they would be sleeping together. I’ve known Andi a long time and I’ve never seen her be so impulsive about getting involved with someone. If it looks like he’s going to cause us a problem, I’ll just have to take sterner measures to deal with it.”
Steve concluded his conversation with Phil Herman as he arrived at a motel in San Diego. He checked in and went directly to his room. He made another call.
“It’s me. Any progress yet?” He listened intently, a frown wrinkling across his forehead. “Damn! That’s no good. We’ve got to have it secured before tomorrow morning or we could blow the whole thing. You’d better get that computer cranked up into double-time.”
He finished the call, issuing some final instructions, then leaned back in the chair and reached for the Havana cigar and his lighter. Everything was in the timing. An hour one way or the other could make a world of difference. But first, the money had to be found. He couldn’t do anything until he had control of the money.
PHIL HERMAN LEANED BACK in the large leather chair. He carefully measured his words. “I was quite surprised to get your phone call, especially when you told me you wanted to discuss the Buchanan case. What prompted this after all these years? I didn’t realize you were even seriously considering it as an open case.”
“I appreciate your coming in to talk to me, Phil. As you know, Ross Durant was killed in an automobile accident.” Frank Norton took the file folder from his desk drawer and dropped the newspaper clipping in it. “At least that’s what has been reported by the press. It’s not too surprising, really. He’s been a loose cannon of late, trying to promote some sort of personal agenda.”
“I remember Ross Durant, of course. But I’m afraid I’m not following you. I fail to see what the accidental death of a federal agent five years after the fact has to do with the Buchanan case. And why call me about it? I retired five years ago.”
Frank placed the file folder on the corner of his desk. “I thought you might be able to provide me with a little insight. Perhaps share your suspicions about the people involved in the case—you know, things that were never verified as fact but you suspected. What about James Hollander? Have you had any word about his location?”
“His location? You’re way ahead of me, Frank. I don’t even know that he’s still alive. Have you had word that he’s out there somewhere?”
“No...I guess that’s not exactly what I meant. I wanted to know if you had heard any word about him at all...one way or the other.”
“Buchanan’s people missed him with the car bomb, then as soon as he got out of the hospital he disappeared. I think it’s likely that they grabbed him.” Phil paused for a moment as he eyed the younger man. “Or do you know something I don’t know? Why this sudden interest in what is essentially a dead case?”
“You’re not aware of the book that’s apparently in the works?”
“What book?”
Frank picked up the file folder again, withdrew a different clipping and handed it to Phil. “This book. It seems to have stirred up quite a bit of activity among some old acquaintances.”
Phil read the publicity blurb, then handed it back to Frank. “I fail to see anything here that would cause concern for anyone. Lots of novels have some truth to their origins, but that doesn’t mean that the author has any firsthand knowledge of the original happenings. To tell you the truth, it sounds to me like kind of a dull premise for a mystery, especially coming from such a good writer as Wayne Gentry. Have you ever read any of his stuff? Real brainteasers. This kind of thing just doesn’t sound like his style.”
“Nevertheless, the word is that Buchanan has been sending his people all over the place trying to do something, but we haven’t figured out exactly what.”
“I’m still a little unclear about a couple of things, Frank. Why are you still following this case after all these years to the point of maintaining an up-to-date clipping file? And what do you really want from me?”
Frank regarded his predecessor for a long moment before speaking. “I know you officially retired, but I suspect you’ve kept in touch with some of your old contacts. I thought you might be able to give me a line on where James Hollander might be hiding.”
“James Hollander? Didn’t we just go over this ground? Do you honestly believe that he’s still alive?”
“Well...” There was a bit of hesitation in Frank Norton’s voice. “None of my people can positively confirm it in that no one has actually seen him. However, if he is alive he’s probably on the move with all of this recent activity. He’ll have to surface sometime, and we need to make sure we’re there to greet him and see that he’s protected before anyone else can get to him. That’s my aim. So...do you have anything I can use?”
Phil leaned back in his chair, tented his fingers together and studied his former work associate. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he turned the conversation over in his mind.
“I’ll tell you, Frank. This is very strange, an odd coincidence of timing. Have you ever heard of a reporter named Steve Westerfall?”
“Westerfall? Sure. He’s one of those investigative types, isn’t he? Works out of New York and is syndicated in lots of newspapers with a penchant for big-time headline-grabbing busts. Likes to make the police look like Keystone Kops. An ego bigger than the city of Chicago. What about him?”
“I hear that he’s been asking a lot of questions about James Hollander for over a week now. He even flew out to Los Angeles a few days ago. I’ve been told that he has a web of questionable associates and informants all over the country. I don’t know what he’s trying to specifically accomplish, but whatever it is it apparently requires his personal presence in California. That must make it pretty big.”
Frank Norton’s voice sounded his displeasure. “This is an open case and James Hollander is a government witness. If this hotshot reporter is doing anything to impede an investigation or has access to or is withholding any information vital to the case that should be turned over to me, then I’ll see that charges are brought against him.”
“Whoa! Back off a minute, Frank.” Phil shifted his weight in the chair, an awkward movement that defined his sudden discomfort. “I
only said that he’s been asking questions and flew out to Los Angeles. That certainly doesn’t mean that he can produce Hollander, or that he even knows where the man is hiding...or whether he’s even alive.”
“What’s the matter, Phil? You seem a little distressed. Have you said more than you intended?”
JIM SAT JUST INSIDE the French doors, sipping a beer while he stared out over the backyard. He watched as the sun dropped lower in the sky, creating the long shadows of late afternoon. The golden light might have warmed the hearts of most people, but it left Jim feeling cold and strangely alone. Since Steve’s mysterious and abrupt departure, the day had taken on an uncomfortable feel of foreboding. Jim had become more and more troubled about the situation with each passing minute.
His one hope for a clue to end it all, the one thing strong enough to draw him out of the safe haven he had created for himself, was the lure of Andi’s interview tape. And now that lead had been snatched away. That, followed by the mysterious death of Ross Durant, was enough to tell him to cut and run as far and as fast as possible before it was too late. The only thing that had kept him from disappearing into the tangled maze of the Los Angeles underground were his very real feelings for Andi and the knowledge that because of him she had become a target.
“A penny for your thoughts.” Andi slipped her arms around his neck from behind. She had been standing across the room for the past five minutes watching him as he stared blankly across the horizon. The despair that covered his face pulled at her heartstrings. She wanted so much to be able to calm his fears, but she had only questions of her own—no answers. She did not know where Steve had gone or why, and it disturbed her more than she wanted to let on. And even more disturbing was the fact that he had not called yet. It would be dark soon. She had to make contact with Benny, but she did not know what to tell him.
Jim’s voice was hollow, devoid of all emotion. He continued to stare out at the ocean as he spoke. “A penny for my thoughts? It would be a bad investment on your part. I don’t have any thoughts. I’m just marking time.”
Secret Lover Page 13
