THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO

by ROBBIE CHEUVRONT

  “Roger that,” Keene said.

  CHAPTER 20

  Raleigh, North Carolina

  I said, who are you? And what are you doing in my house?”

  The man was dressed in finely tailored slacks and a blue blazer. His hair was silver and parted over to one side. He had a strong jawline and bushy eyebrows that were narrowed into a menacing scowl.

  Megan loosed her Glock from her grip and let it dangle from her finger as she held her hands up in surrender. Eli did the same.

  “My name’s Megan Taylor, Mr. Hayes. I’m with the FBI.”

  “What are you doing in my house? And how did you get in here?”

  “That’s a complicated story.” Eli chuckled.

  “Please put the gun down, Mr. Hayes. We only came here to talk to you,” Megan said.

  Hayes motioned them away from the desk with the gun. “Both of you, over here. Away from the desk.”

  Megan and Eli did as they were instructed.

  “Now, I’m only going to ask this one more time. What are you doing in my house?”

  Megan began to lower her arms. “Mr. Hayes, I’m going to holster my weapon and show you my ID, okay?”

  Hayes nodded. “Do it slowly, young lady.”

  She did as she was told and eased the Glock back into its holster. Next she used her right arm to open her jacket and reached her left arm inside to grab her ID. She pulled the flip-fold wallet out and handed it to him. Hayes took it but never let his eyes drift from her or Eli. He held it up so that he could look at it out of his peripheral vision.

  “See?” Megan said apprehensively. “Megan Taylor. FBI.”

  “And who are you?” Hayes shifted his gaze to Eli.

  “Eli Craig, sir.”

  “He’s with me.”

  Hayes’s demeanor was calm and cool, Megan noted. If he was shaken in any way by her identification, he didn’t show it. “We came to ask you a few questions, sir. We let ourselves in the back, because we didn’t want to make a big scene with the guard out front.”

  “And why is that?” Hayes asked.

  “Um.” Megan cleared her throat.

  Eli jumped in. “With everything that’s happened in the last few months, we felt it wouldn’t look favorably for you—the Chief Justice—having a couple feds show up at this hour unannounced. I mean, should the media catch wind of it.”

  Hayes gave a short hmph. He turned his attention back to Megan. “What kind of questions?”

  “Just some questions about someone you might know, sir. That’s all. But like my partner, here, said, we didn’t want to make a scene. So we just let ourselves in.”

  “About that…” Hayes looked quizzically at them. “Am I to assume you somehow bypassed my security system?”

  “No.” It was Eli, and he was smiling. “You don’t need to assume anything. I bypassed it.”

  Megan almost reached over and punched him right in the jaw. Hayes was standing three feet away with a hand cannon pointed at them and Eli was cracking jokes. She was about to apologize when Eli continued.

  “Before we leave, though, I’ll put it back. And then I’ll show you how I did it. That way you can call your security company in the morning and tell them. I’m sure they’ll want to know.”

  Hayes gave another hmph. He looked at both of them for another few seconds. Finally, he lowered the revolver. “Follow me.”

  He led them back out into the kitchen. As he entered the archway, he said, “Lights up.” Immediately, the interior lights in the kitchen came to life. He motioned for them to take a seat at the small table next to the french doors. “Now, what is it you want to know?”

  Megan cleared her throat. “Mr. Hayes, I’m sure you know these past couple months have been tough for our country.”

  Hayes nodded.

  “And I’m sure you’re aware that President Walker is in a tough position right now.” She waited for some kind of acknowledgment. Nothing. “I mean, there are many who want to just move on with life, reexamine our policies, and move toward restructuring our government to adhere to more of what the founders intended—”

  “And what makes you an expert on what our forefathers intended, young lady? I’m a state supreme court justice, and I have trouble, at times, discerning what our forefathers intended. And that’s my job.”

  “I meant no disrespect, Your Honor. I’m merely saying that…there seem to be two camps—if you will—of people right now. One is just trying to rebuild and move on. The other believes that we should fight to take our country back.”

  “And which do you subscribe to?” Hayes asked.

  “That’s not important, sir.” She noticed Hayes’s frown. “What is important is, regardless of what one believes, we have to abide by the rule of law. Surely you can appreciate that.”

  Again Hayes dismissed her. “Why don’t you skip to the part where you tell me what you want?”

  Megan shifted in her seat. “We came here to ask if you could help us.”

  “Help you?” There was genuine surprise in Hayes’s eyes.

  “Yes. We understand you may know a man named Gavin Pemberton?”

  It was subtle, and many people might have missed it. But Megan saw the corner of Hayes’s mouth twitch. She wondered if Eli caught it, too.

  “Gavin Pemberton?” Hayes asked, seemingly searching his mind to recollect. “That name sounds familiar, but…no, I’m sorry. I can’t say I know him. Who is he?”

  “Really?” It was Eli. “Because we heard that the two of you might actually be close friends.”

  Hayes gave a nervous, dismissive laugh. “Young man, I just told you that I might’ve heard his name. I think that if he and I were old chums, my answer to your previous question would be starkly different. Don’t you think?”

  Megan decided to jump in and try and catch him off guard. “Where did you say you know him from, again?”

  Hayes didn’t bite. “I didn’t. I merely said that I might’ve heard his name.” He crinkled his nose. “Wait a minute….Pemberton…yes, you know, I am familiar with that name. Isn’t he that tobacco farmer? Billionaire, I think.”

  “That’s the guy,” Megan said. “Likes to dabble in politics.”

  Hayes waved her off. “I’m sure I don’t know anything about that.”

  “And you’re sure you’ve never had any run-ins with him? No business dealings or anything?”

  “You know…” Hayes looked like someone turned the light on inside his brain. “I remember now. I did have some dealings with Mr. Pemberton. About thirty years ago.” He shook his finger and smiled, as if he were proud of himself for remembering. “Seems a young family brought a lawsuit against the big tobacco companies. Mr. Pemberton was one of the named defendants. Big case. It was all over the news. Made it to the state supreme court.”

  “And how did that play out?” Eli asked.

  Hayes gave another hmph. “That was thirty or so years ago, son. I can’t remember every decision handed down from the court. I wasn’t even a judge then. I think I worked for the law firm that was representing all the defendants. I was a junior partner at the time. I remember, because myself and my other two junior partners spent three months straight without any sleep, preparing files and depositions. But as far as Mr. Pemberton goes, I don’t think we ever met.”

  Megan looked to Eli and nodded. She started to stand up.

  “What did you say you were looking for Mr. Pemberton for?” Hayes asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “It’s probably nothing,” Megan said. “Thank you for your time. Again, sorry about…you know…just letting ourselves in.”

  “Glad I could help,” Hayes said. Then, “You can go out through the front door. I’ll ring the guard and let him know you’re coming through.”

  “Thank you,” they both said.

  “Oh, and next time you need to speak to me, Ms. Taylor—which I assume will be never—go ahead and check in with the guard. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself when it comes to what’s
left of the media around here.”

  Megan smiled and nodded as they exited the house. She waited for the door to close behind them before speaking.

  “You see his lip twitch when I said Pemberton’s name?”

  “Yep. You see him act all innocent and proud of himself that he recalled having worked for the firm that defended Pemberton?”

  “Yep.”

  “So what do you think?”

  “I think we need to keep an eye on Mr. Hayes.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Eli said. He winked at the guard as they passed through the front gate.

  Hayes closed the door behind the FBI agent and her partner. How in the world did they end up at his house? And why were they asking about Gavin? Surely no one could know what he and Gavin had been doing. There was no way. They’d been too careful. And everyone they had talked to…well, he and Gavin had enough dirt on all of them to put them away for a lifetime.

  Suddenly, he began to feel faint. He walked back into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He drank it down in two long gulps.

  That was better.

  They can’t know anything. This was just a fishing expedition, he told himself.

  He reached inside his blazer pocket and retrieved the handkerchief tucked away inside. He wiped the bead of sweat from his forehead that was now trickling down his nose.

  He tried to convince himself he had nothing to worry about. He was sure of it. His and Gavin’s friendship was something neither of them advertised. Ever since they’d known each other. It just wasn’t good for their social circles. He was from an elite family of law and business. Gavin’s family were a bunch of rich, redneck tobacco farmers. And though they shared much of the same political ideology, their families saw each other’s social status as different as the Hatfields and McCoys. Not that their families actually knew each other. Just that neither family would have ever accepted the friendship of the other. It would have been bad for their image.

  So he and Gavin had always kept their friendship quiet. As well as their business dealings. No, he decided. No one would ever suspect his involvement with Gavin on a ten-dollar business deal. Let alone what they had been working toward. Well, unless someone came across the fact that there actually was somewhat of a history there. Hayes had cross-examined Gavin on the stand in that tobacco case. He had discreetly informed the senior partner that he and Gavin were friends, and that he could paint Gavin in a favorable light. The senior partner had agreed. Hayes had made the Pembertons look like a family of choirboys. Yeah, he admitted. That might raise some eyebrows. And, of course, what if someone were to dig a little further, and discover he and Gavin had been lacrosse teammates at Yale? At least for the first week anyway, until Gavin had cross-checked him in practice, dislocated his shoulder, and torn his rotator cuff. Gavin had offered to drive him to the hospital himself. Hayes’s lacrosse career had come to an abrupt end, but a friendship—more than thirty years old now—had been born.

  Suddenly, he felt a little light headed again. He wiped another bead of sweat and reached for the phone. He dialed the number and waited for a series of clicks and beeps. He was reminded again of the aggravation of dealing with these landlines. Finally the other end was picked up. “It’s your dime.”

  Hayes said, “Why can’t you just ever answer the phone like a normal person?”

  “ ’Cause I know it bothers you,” Pemberton snapped. “What do you want?”

  Hayes wiped the sweat from his brow again. “We have a problem.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Alex Smith sat in the car across from the Super 8 Motel on Capital Boulevard. She was supposed to already be back with Farid, so she called their room from the pay phone at the Quick Mart next door to the Super 8. She wanted to be there with him. She wanted them to go out to a nice dinner and then maybe hit a couple late-night spots in town. But something else was currently demanding her attention.

  She had noticed him the moment she walked in to meet Pemberton. He was sitting alone, at a table by himself. It wasn’t that he had done anything peculiar. All he had done was to look her over as she walked by. Not an uncommon occurrence. I am, after all, very attractive.

  The problem was once she sat down to talk with Pemberton, she had casually glanced around the room, as was her custom. That’s when she noticed. He had been staring at her—or Pemberton—or both. Regardless, as soon as she had looked in his direction, the man shifted his gaze away quickly. Too quickly. She made a mental note of it and continued on with Pemberton.

  As she left, she noticed the man was purposely avoiding looking at her. She left the restaurant and walked across the street to where her car was parked. She took her time, so as to give the man a chance to leave and follow her—she had assumed that would happen next.

  She slowly pulled away from the curb and watched the rear view. She hadn’t even completely merged into traffic when the man exited the restaurant, jumped in a car parked almost right in front of the door, and pulled out, three cars behind.

  Normally, she would lead a tail like this somewhere deserted, where she’d give him the slip and then double back on him. And then she would kill him. But given what she’d heard about Pemberton, she figured this guy was probably tasked with following her. And since she already had other plans, she decided just to lose him. She quickly found a shopping mall and parked in the garage. She got out of the car and hurried into the entrance, making sure the man was close behind. As soon as she was inside, she ducked into the first store. It had a glass front and gave a view of the entrance where she’d just come through to the parking garage.

  His car pulled into the parking garage and slowly approached her car, but the man never got out. Instead, he stopped directly behind her car for a couple seconds then pulled away. If she had to guess, the man had just written down her plate number. No matter, it wouldn’t give up any information. The car was a rental. Under a fake name. She told herself to just wait for him to leave, and then go meet Farid. But the pull was too strong. She couldn’t let it go. As soon as the man was out of sight, she quickly exited the garage and got back in her car.

  Outside the garage, it only took her a couple of seconds to spot the vehicle again. He was making a left at the light. Fortunately, the light was red. There were three cars in front of her, which gave her the perfect position to follow him. The green arrow appeared and the man made his turn. However, the three others behind him seemed to have nowhere to go in a hurry. They slowly puttered through the intersection, causing her to almost miss the light. She got as close as she could to the car in front and followed it through as the light flashed red again. An oncoming car blew his horn at her, but she ignored it and continued on.

  Now she was sitting here, outside Super 8 Motel, deciding what to do. The man had been inside for almost a half hour. And the lights in his room had just gone off. Given his age, she figured he was probably turning in for the night. She could just let it go for now, go have dinner with Farid, and then later that night, come back.

  On the other hand, if she did let it go for now, there was a small possibility the man could leave again, and she might never find him. Also, it would ruin her night with Farid. She would be consumed with thinking about it. And she had already promised herself—since she couldn’t remember the last time she had a real date—nothing was going to ruin this night. Then she thought of something else. If she did go in there right now, rough the guy up a bit, find out who he was and why he was tailing her, and then just kill him, it would put her senses into hyperdrive. She would feel that coursing through her veins for the rest of the night. And that could only heighten the evening she had planned with Farid.

  She gave it five more minutes and then turned the car off, got out, and started walking toward the motel.

  At seventy-six years old, Nolan Peterson was still in great shape. He could still run five miles—and did, three times a week. He ate healthy. Didn’t smoke. Didn’t drink—except for the occasional social dark beer. Typicall
y, he got up at six o’clock and went to bed at eleven. Seven hours sleep, that’s all he ever needed. But not today. Today, he was tired.

  He wasn’t sure if it was because his age was starting to catch up with him, or if it was because he’d been running himself ragged these past few days. Ever since his friend had called him a couple of days ago, his interest had been piqued, and he’d been up late every night since, doing some good ol’ fashioned spy work. Then, when Jennings had called, it pretty much set him on course. It aggravated him that Jennings would send those other two agents to take him out of play. Jennings thought he’d lost a step. But he was still sharp as ever. And he’d proved it tonight. He’d given those two agents the slip. Sent them off chasing after that judge. He hadn’t lied to them. He really had learned that the judge was some kind of friend of Pemberton’s. He just chose to omit the fact that he knew where Pemberton was. So he’d decided to follow Pemberton himself. And then the blond showed up.

  From the moment she’d walked into the restaurant, he knew something was off about her. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. The way she sauntered into the place, he figured she was some kind of call girl or something. But then she intentionally made an effort to check out the room again, once she was seated. Call girls, as far as he knew, didn’t make an effort to make sure they weren’t being watched. This girl did. Then she left, almost as quickly as she showed up. And Pemberton made no effort to leave.

  He decided—on a whim—to follow the girl. But it turned out to be a bust—at least for now. She’d led him to a shopping mall. But at least he got the plate number from her car. He had a friend back home who could run the plate. He’d call him tomorrow. Right now, the excitement of the day had left him exhausted. He spent ten minutes getting ready for bed, brushing his teeth, changing into some flannel pants and a T-shirt, and washing his face.

  He wasn’t much of a TV guy, so he just crawled in bed and grabbed his book from the bedside table. He figured he’d read for a few minutes until his eyes started to feel as tired as the rest of his body. It only took another ten minutes before he was spent. He reached across the bed and killed the light.