Whole Lotta Trouble

by Stephanie Bond

  Felicia nodded agreement, but her mother wasn’t paying attention—she had drifted off in thought. Felicia sipped coffee from her cup, but after a few seconds, when Julia hadn’t returned, Felicia reached forward to clasp her mother’s hand. “Are you okay?”

  Julia snapped back. “Yes.”

  “Again, Mother, I’m so sorry—you don’t need the added stress.”

  After setting down her coffee cup, Julia heaved a long sigh. “It’s not what you’ve done that’s causing me stress…it’s what I’ve done.”

  “We don’t have to rehash anything, Mother.” Felicia patted her hand. “Let’s just start fresh.”

  “I have something for you,” Julia said. “Wait here.” She disappeared in the direction of the library, then returned with a small slip of paper.

  “What is it?” Felicia asked.

  “It’s the name and number of your sister, Isabella.”

  Felicia’s head jerked up. “My sister?”

  Julia nodded. “She’s twenty-five now and living in Boston. She wrote me several months ago asking my permission for her to contact you.” Julia’s mouth tightened. “I did a terrible thing. I wrote her back and told her that you weren’t interested in meeting her. But what I did was wrong, and I want you to have this so you can make up your own mind.”

  Emotion crowded Felicia’s chest as she looked at the slip of paper. Isabella, the daughter her father had wanted, had raised. She considered telling her mother she had done the right thing, that she wasn’t interested in meeting the girl.

  “I know you’re lonely, Felicia, and I blame myself for not having more children, for not spending more time with you. But I’m not going to be around forever, and I want you to know that you have a sibling out there who is interested in having a relationship with you.”

  As if on its own volition, Felicia’s hand reached out to take the slip. A sister. Someone to share with…to love…“How will you feel if I contact her, Mother?”

  A sad little smile curved her mother’s mouth. “Relieved.”

  Chapter 34

  Tallie stared at the cell phone, unable to believe it was ringing. It was probably Felicia or Keith or…

  She picked it up and jammed it to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Tallie, I always knew you were the smart one,” Ron said.

  She fell forward in abject relief. “Ron, omigod, Ron—where are you?”

  He laughed mildly. “Tallie, considering the conversation I just overheard with—Keith, is it?—you know I can’t tell you that.”

  Incredulity washed over her. “I was right?”

  “Yes, on just about all accounts. I was an FBI plant, and the man you know as Gaylord Cooper was one of my co-agents. Parkbench was the perfect publishing house for the pilot program—I don’t think the government had any idea what a logistical and financial success the program would become. It was a win-win situation—Parkbench made money, the government made money, and readers were part of a plot bigger than they even realized.” He made a rueful noise. “Everything was fine until this last book, then I got called away on an assignment. I knew I could trust you to protect the work: Not messing with the wording was essential so the field agents could crack the code. But what I didn’t know was that a terrorist group in Tel Aviv figured out what we were doing—not the code, but the delivery vehicle. They hired a mercenary to infiltrate, and the guy latched on to our weakest link, Jerry Key.”

  She blinked. “Jerry was in on this?”

  “Actually, no. One thing we knew would blow our cover in this industry was if Gaylord didn’t have a good agent. Jerry was perfect—high profile and hands off. Unfortunately, the man had a few…vices. The counteragent probably got impatient when he found out that Jerry didn’t have the manuscript.”

  “Jané Glass has been arrested for his murder.”

  “I’m working on that. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Tallie, that you were in danger—if I’d known about the counteragent, I would have never left town. Gaylord told me that your phone was bugged, but I risked calling to warn you.”

  “The day your phone went out?”

  “Right. Then I caught wind of a tail and had to lie low. But Gaylord dropped a few hints.”

  She squinted. “I do remember him saying that you were afraid for your life.”

  “Yes, I heard him through the pen.”

  “Did he know about the pen?”

  “Yes, he found it and the phone bug when he swept your office. I’m sorry to have planted a bug in the pen, Tallie, but I was worried—I needed some way to keep tabs on you. If you disassemble it, you’ll find the bug. Just toss it in the river or something.”

  “Okay,” she said, her mind in turmoil. “This…counteragent…do you know what he looks like?”

  “No, I’ve never seen him, but my sources tell me he looks very unassuming, very young.”

  The baby-faced guy. “I’ve seen him,” she said. “He took a shot at me in a coffeehouse.”

  “He probably thought you were in on this. I’m so sorry.”

  She swallowed. “You know that Kara is dead.”

  He made a regretful noise. “Yes…horrible, I’m sick about it. But if it had to happen, better her than you, my friend.”

  “The counteragent got the manuscript,” Tallie said. “I went to Kara’s and looked all over for it, but it’s gone.”

  He sighed. “We figured as much from piecing together conversations. And it’s a real setback—having to end the program is bad enough, but having to end it when a field agent is counting on those instructions is even worse. But we’re taking solace in the fact that even though the manuscript has been intercepted, the code would be extremely difficult to crack.”

  She swallowed hard. “You’re not coming back, are you?”

  “No. I have to go under for a while. No one at Parkbench knows about this—they’ll probably write me off as a mental case who simply disappeared. And I have to ask you not to share this information with anyone unless it’s a life-or-death situation.”

  “I won’t. You can trust me.”

  “I know,” he said. “One thing I did leave behind was a recommendation that you be promoted as soon as possible. And you can have my Eames chairs.”

  She grinned. “Thank you, Ron.”

  “I have to say good-bye now. If you need me, here’s a contact.” He recited a number. “Call from a pay phone or a cell phone. Someone will answer and take a message, then I’ll get back to you when I can.”

  “Okay,” she said nervously, overwhelmed with information to process, and loath to hang up.

  “Take care, Tallie.”

  “You too, Ron. Is that your real name?”

  “No,” he said with a laugh. “But I like it.”

  The call disconnected and she sat in her chair, utterly limp, wondering if anything that she’d believed about the man was true…was he even gay? Her face burned with a flush, and she tingled all over. Had that phone call really just happened?

  A knock on her door sent her leaping to her feet. Norah looked at her as if she’d gone mad. “Um, want me to take the books back now?”

  “That would be great.”

  “Are you okay? Your face is all red. Do you have a fever?”

  “Um, maybe. In fact—” She glanced at her watch. If she left now she could pick up that package that her mother had sent. “I think I’ll roll on out of here.”

  “Okay. See you tomorrow.” Norah laughed. “Don’t worry—it’ll all still be here, as boring as ever.”

  Tallie gave a little laugh. “Yeah…boring as ever.”

  Still marveling over the conversation, she caught a taxi to the post office and, after standing in an unbelievably long line, presented the pick-up slip to a lady at the counter. The woman disappeared for twenty-five minutes and came back carrying a box the size of a toaster. It probably was a toaster, although it was kind of heavy. “We almost sent it back,” the woman said in a threatening voice.

  Tallie
frowned. FBI agents had nothing on the United States Postal Service workers.

  She walked home, itchy to call Keith, to rub in his face that she had been right! Then she winced. She’d promised Ron that she wouldn’t tell anyone about their conversation unless it was life or death, so she wouldn’t…even if it killed her.

  Chapter 35

  Tallie climbed the stairs to her apartment, trying to decide if she felt like running. If truth be told, she’d rather have sex, but it seemed as if the flame with Keith had burned out. Or perhaps doused would be a better word, considering how much she’d thrown up during the ride to the clink.

  He probably still was shaking his head over her nutty theory about Ron and Gaylord being secret agents. And no doubt thinking she was much more trouble than she was worth.

  She unlocked the dead bolts on her door and stepped inside to survey the mess that the police had left, which she still needed to clean up. She closed the door behind her and refastened the locks, thinking Chinese food sounded good again tonight. Chinese for one, this time.

  She placed her order, then went in search of a knife to open the box her mother had sent. What a remarkable day it had been. She replayed the conversation with Ron over and over, wondering how many federal agent programs were at this moment operating in plain view—covert messages on toilet paper packaging, or on billboards? She still could scarcely believe it; at this moment, the men she knew as Ron Springer and Gaylord Cooper were being briefed on a new assignment that would consume another chunk of their lives…amazing.

  It wouldn’t be difficult to explain the sudden disappearance of Gaylord Cooper from the literary scene—the man was known to be so eccentric that no one would be surprised. Indeed, it would probably increase his backlist sales.

  She opened the box and withdrew the white envelope on top of the paper. It was a card for a kid, complete with cartoon animals and big wobbly sun. “ ‘Happy birthday from Mommy and Daddy,’ ” she read aloud. Inside was a twenty-dollar bill and a handwritten note.

  Tallie,

  I know this package is early, but I always say if you have a gift for someone, why wait to give it to them? They might be able to use it and there it is, sitting on your shelf in a box waiting to be given. Where’s the caring in that? Anyway, I hope you can use this money and gift for something special.

  Love, Mom and Dad

  Tallie smiled and opened the box, then she cringed. An iron. Oh, good grief, and it looked like a nice one, too. She hefted it out of the box and stared at the dials and water chambers and wondered what on earth she’d do with it.

  The doorbell rang, and she set down the iron in favor of the twenty-dollar bill, which would pay for her dinner. She unlocked the dead bolts and had a ready smile for the deliveryman, and instead got a glimpse of the baby-faced man before he shoved the door hard, knocking her to the floor. Pure terror bolted through her as she gasped for breath…the man did not look so young and innocent when his face was scrunched in fury.

  “Where the fuck is the manuscript?” he screamed.

  Tallie scuttled backward like a crab until she hit the couch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He pulled a handgun from his waist and pointed it at her. “Don’t be stupid—that thing is worth more to me than it is to you.” He spat on the floor. “I killed that blond, and she wasn’t half the trouble that you’ve caused me. I’d be glad to put a bullet in you.”

  Tallie gulped air…she had no doubt the man would kill her. Stupid things went skating through her mind—she’d never told her mother how much she loved her chocolate cupcakes…or Felicia what a kind friend she’d been…or Keith that it was cool and mature that he owned a house, even if it was in Brooklyn.

  “Now,” the man said, punctuating his words with a jerk of the gun. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Where—oomph!”

  The door slammed into him from behind. The gun went off, and a bullet imbedded into the couch next to her arm. Babyface landed practically on top of her, and Keith Wages landed on top of him. The air was driven from her lungs like an explosion. She wanted to scream…she simply couldn’t.

  Babyface was being ground into her as the men wrestled for the gun. He head-butted her twice, and she was thoroughly jabbed. Keith rolled them off of her, and she lay there for a few seconds wheezing for breath, then pushed to her knees.

  “Get out of here, Tallie,” Keith yelled, pounding the man’s wrist on the end table so he would release the gun.

  She scrambled to the door just as Babyface swung his knee into Keith’s back, and Keith momentarily sagged. Babyface yanked his arm free, then took an elbow to the eye. The men lunged into another wrestling match, but this time Babyface was on top. Tallie looked for something to throw, but considering the fact that she threw like a girl, she dumped that plan in lieu of grabbing her new iron and swinging it like a bowling ball between the bad man’s legs, where it connected with a nauseating thunk.

  Babyface stiffened, then went limp, dropping the gun. Keith grunted in surprise, then rolled the man off him. Picking up the gun and pushing to his feet, Keith glared at Tallie. “I told you to get out. You could’ve been killed.” He scoffed. “Stubborn woman.”

  She set the iron down on the kitchen counter. “Something you’re going to have to get used to, I guess.”

  He looked back to the man curled on the floor, drool oozing from his slack mouth. “Damn, you really clocked him.”

  “I told you I could take a man down.”

  “You made a believer out of me.” He radioed for backup.

  “Um, you might want to call the FBI, too,” she said mildly.

  Keith frowned, then his eyebrows went up.

  She adopted a smug expression and nodded.

  He pressed the radio button again and asked for the captain while he fastened handcuffs on the flaccid prisoner.

  The door swung open and Mr. Emory stood there, smoke coming out of his big, hairy ears. “Someone dyin’ in here?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” Tallie said. “But we’re on top of it.”

  Mr. Emory scowled. “You are a whole lotta trouble, you know that?” Then he stomped off down the hall.

  “Are you hurt?” Keith asked, coming over to cup her face. “Your forehead is bleeding.”

  “Just a scratch,” she assured him. “Where did you come from?”

  “I was feeling bad about the way I walked out of your office.” He hauled her into his arms and kissed her hair. “I should have believed you.”

  “Well, I admit it was a pretty unbelievable story.” She nodded at Babyface. “And I didn’t expect this—I thought he’d be long gone with the manuscript, but apparently he doesn’t have it.”

  “Do you think someone else killed Kara Hatteras?”

  “No, he told me he’d killed a blond, but she must not have had the manuscript.”

  Keith pursed his mouth. “Wonder where it is?”

  “Good question.”

  There was a knock on the doorframe, and they looked up to see a wide-eyed delivery guy. “Did someone order Chinese?”

  Chapter 36

  Felicia sat at her desk, replaying in her mind the unbelievable top-secret story Tallie had told her—Jerry had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time…a pawn in a government game. The irony was that Jerry would have loved the notoriety, yet only a handful of people would ever know how he’d died. She looked up as Tamara stuck her head into her office. “Suze Dannon is here—do you have time to see her?”

  “Sure,” Felicia said, although she wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. She and Suze had some unfinished business.

  “By the way,” Tamara said, “here’s your knife.” She held up the serrated knife missing from Felicia’s collection.

  Felicia took the knife and squinted. “Where did you get this?”

  “You brought it in with that yummy carrot cake, remember?”

  Felicia closed her eyes briefly. She did remember slipping it inside th
e box. “Of course. Thanks, Tamara.”

  “Oh, and your sister called while you were in the staff meeting…she said she’d call you back this afternoon.”

  Felicia smiled, happy for that new bit of warmth in her life. “Thanks.”

  Suze walked in dressed in a demure camel-colored coat. “Hi, Felicia,” she said, patting the envelope in her arms. “The revisions are all finished.”

  “Great. Are you and Phil both happy with the book?”

  “Yes. It might not be as intriguing without the e-book element, but it’s good. In fact, we think it’s our best book yet.”

  “Good.”

  “And Phil shared with me an idea that he’s working on…it’s rather good. He said he’d given it to you to read. What did you think?”

  Felicia paused, wondering if Suze knew about their brief affair, if this was her way of bringing up the fact that Phil had been by Felicia’s apartment. “I thought it showed a lot of promise,” she admitted. “Have the two of you decided to work on separate projects?”

  “No,” Suze said. “In fact, Phil and I are going to renew our wedding vows.”

  Felicia smiled, relieved. “That’s wonderful.”

  “But first I want to get something off my chest.”

  Felicia clasped her hands together and squeezed hard. “Okay…what is it?”

  “I sent those photos to you.”

  Felicia blinked. “You sent them?”

  Suze nodded, tearing up. “Jerry and I were having a fling, and I found them at his place. I demanded that he get rid of them and he refused, saying that he loved you.”

  Her heart unfolded. “He loved me?”

  Suze nodded. “He said he knew he was a jackass and not the marrying kind, but that he had really loved you, and he was going to keep the pictures. I took them from his apartment after he temporarily moved to the hotel, and I mailed them to you out of spite.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, and I’m begging you…please don’t tell Phil about the affair…it would break his heart.”