“Get movers to his house, get paperwork to transfer the title to me, and have him go find a place to live there. It’s done.”
“Is it necessary? If we’ve got—” Mark just ordered it done, so Tyler moved to the next, trying to stifle his huff and a “never mind,” but not quite succeeding. “I’ve got an update on the Kim-Park family. They’re well, and Shin is actually liking his job as a teacher. Mrs. Kim-Park can’t get over it. She is, however, annoyed at being on a Tarjay budget.”
Mark’s hesitation hinted at what would come next. However, that “next” arrived with a bonus. “Okay, my instinct is to send her a gift card to one of her favorite stores. Find out what that is and send it if you think it would be a help. Don’t if you think it would increase long-term discontent. She’s got to adapt, but this is pretty cold turkey for someone used to the finest of the finest.”
“Someone who thinks she is, anyway.” When Mark asked for clarity, Tyler hoped he hadn’t overstepped. “It’s just that she acts like her Coach and Spade are Prada—that her Banana Republic is Louis Vuitton.”
“Good point. Tread carefully. If you send it, keep it reasonable and do it near a birthday or other special day. It’s been close enough to extraction that we can let them think it’s because they’re just starting over. Maybe give it to Shin to give to her.”
“Sure thing.”
A call came before Mark could send out the next order. “Hey, Mark. It’s Suresh. Hang on.”
A minute later, Tyler stared at the phone, almost speechless. “Um…”
“He already told me about Knupp.”
“He quit. Demanded his money and he’s out. I’d guess he’s moving to some place where money goes a long way.”
Tyler knew this silence—this one that Mark did when all new plans got set in motion. Tyler just waited. The cradle balls bounced their plink, clink, plink, clinks while Tyler’s eyes bounced back and forth with each plink.
A sigh, one Tyler suspected Mark didn’t know he made, preceded a string of tasks. “Okay, get Paris and Henry to the Harbinger place—just until I talk to Knupp again.”
“Gonna get him out?”
A moment passed… two. “That’s where I’m headed. We need to do this now. Okay, so we’ve got Kim covered, Schmatlock is good, we’ve lost Sam—”
“What? What happened to Sam?”
“She’s on her way there to quit. Do the exit protocol and deposit three months’ salary into her account.”
Tyler’s throat went dry enough to make him croak as he asked, “Doyle?”
“Covering Todd. She’s joining us.”
“Does she know we’re responsible for Lucy’s death?” The moment he asked, Tyler regretted it. “Sorry.”
“No. She doesn’t. I’ll talk to her once everything settles. We need to debrief Knupp before we decide if we offer the Todds a new life. Meanwhile, get Flynne’s laptop to her.”
“Courier?”
Mark’s tone took on an apologetic but firm quality. “No, Tyler. You.”
Insert expletive here—all the ones Keith would never say. Insert them here. “Yessir.”
“Soon.” Mark shifted as if he hadn’t just thrown a sucker punch. “Okay, who’s left?”
“Just Brent and maybe Sam.”
A slow exhale followed. “That’s what I’m hoping to get from you. Watch her. Ask questions about the thing—all of it. Then get to St. Louis.” Only then did Mark add, “And sorry about this, Tyler, but let’s rip off that Band-Aid now.”
The aide hadn’t steered them wrong. The French dip sandwich was better than you’d find at most restaurants, and the bun wasn’t too thick. “I’m used to hospital food having no seasoning, but this…”
“I think someone knows how to pull flavor from and into beef without it.” Erika took another bite. “You’ll fight for me, right?”
“Always.”
She grinned at all he didn’t say and flicked her straw wrapper at what he did. “You know what I mean. I’m going to see Flynne one way or another. I owe her.”
“She nearly got you killed.”
“Don’t. Even. Start. With. Me.” When he only quirked an eyebrow at her, Erika glared. “I mean it.”
“So do I. But yes, I’ll fight for you to get to see the unintentional attempted murderer.” Adding a smile and a wink to that failed.
“For your information, I could be dead without her. Mark ignored the signs. Even I thought she was nuts, but who was right? Huh? Who was right?”
That, he couldn’t argue. Somewhere deep inside, a thought poked and festered. How had Flynne seen what no one else did, unless…?
The curtain rattled and Mark’s head peered around it.
Thought you weren’t coming back for a while.
Erika beckoned. “Come grab a bite of the other end of this. It’s amazing.”
“I’ve always considered hospital food and amazing to be incompatible words.” But when Mark took a bite, his eyes widened. “Can I get one in the cafeteria?”
He heard the unspoken request for privacy. “Probably.” Keith rose. “I’ll be right back.”
Mark glanced at the empty plate. “I suppose you want another?”
He kissed Erika’s cheek and once assured she’d be fine alone, led Mark from the room. “We can eat outside.”
They made it halfway through their sandwiches before Mark turned casual conversation on its head. “I need you back. Probably six months at least. I also need a replacement for Suresh.”
Keith’s gut twisted. “I have to be honest. This kills personal plans.”
“You know I wouldn’t ask…”
And he wouldn’t. Keith knew that more than Mark probably did. “I have to talk to Erika about it. Sorry, but—”
“Do it. If she has any concerns, we can put her up somewhere secure for the next few months just to be sure.”
He didn’t want to ask, but there wasn’t any way to avoid it. “What’s with Suresh?”
“He quit today—said he’s out. We need two people. When Ellison died, I didn’t make it a priority, and now look where we are.”
“Suresh is the best…”
“I’ve heard of an Armenian out of Fresno who we might need to talk to. I might need you to vet him.”
Keith had no idea how to do that. “So, what…? I can’t just ask for references.”
“Have him check out Sam and ind out if there’s more to her leaving than just a lack of confidence.”
A call came through—Tyler, if the gentleness in Mark’s tone meant anything. Keith listened to half and frowned at the way Mark eyed the windows above them for a moment. “I’ll go talk to her. I need this covered before you get here.”
Tyler’s coming? Uh, oh.
Disconnected, Mark turned. “Do you know about Detweiler?”
Keith nodded. “The one taunting Schmatloch?”
“Except she wasn’t. It was all a sham. Flynne verified the trail for me, but it was a sham.”
“Easy to do if you know what you’re doing.”
Mark gazed out over the street as if it had the answer to life’s problems. “Yeah… well… there’s just one problem.”
“Hmm?”
“The car she used to go to St. Louis? It was Mona Detweiler’s. Flynne’s been house sitting for her for six months.”
Lord? What’s going on in The Agency?
Keith jerked a thumb at the doors. “Going in?”
“I have to now.”
“Let’s find out what else Flynne isn’t telling us. I’ll get Morgan out—drive him home so he can shower and eat.”
They’d made it halfway up the elevator before Mark asked, “Scale of one to ten—give me your trust score for Flynne.”
“Before that call? Nine and a half.”
Mark nodded. “Me, too. And now?”
“Neutral—five. I don’t know.”
Twenty-Nine
While Mark waited for Keith to lead Morgan from the room, a tougher feat than
even he’d imagined, he reviewed every conversation they’d had about Mona Detweiler. He’d brought the case to Flynne for verification of facts. She’d done the research and verification, but he’d done the initial interview. He’d informed her of who Mona was. He’d ordered her to research.
But she didn’t say she knew Mona. Not once.
Once Keith managed to get Morgan out of the building, Mark had to step out of the room to wait for a sponge bath, the changing of the linens, and all the vitals. All that did was make him even more unsettled. The fact that she looked done in by the time he returned to the room nearly made him rethink the visit, but he needed to know. He needed to see her reaction.
Her voice still raspy and painful-sounding, Flynne watched him as he pulled up a chair. “Is this when I get totes reamed for going all rogueified?”
“No.” He pulled out his phone and zipped Tyler a message. Check Flynne’s research on Detweiler. Need any anomalies.
A simple ok came a moment later.
“What’s wrong, Mark? I know that expression. You’re, like, so ticked.”
“You need to know that Tyler is on his way with your secure laptop.” A choice word, “Flynne-ified,” followed. Do you have any idea that with your teen-speak, your cursing sounds like a cupcake flavor?
“I knew I’d have to see him but not this soon. Can Morgan or Keith accept it and—?”
“No. I need this awkward moment over. I need you guys to get to work. We are about to put a stop to all this mess, and I need everyone in the game.”
“What’s going on?” At his questioning look, she scowled. “I know you. You, like, only use sports analogies when you’re supes ticked.”
“Right now, only confused. But…”
She closed her eyes. “What’d I do?”
The game began. Mark didn’t say a word until she finally opened her eyes again and gazed at him. “Talk to me about Mona Detweiler.”
Eyes closed again. “I was going to tell you.”
“I’d rather know why you didn’t.”
The blood pressure cuff went off, and she winced. “These things are, like, for realz the worst things ever.”
Mark didn’t respond.
“When I saw her name, I had to know—for myself. I mean, I work for these people! So, I checked it out. They were totes guiltified—actually, I think just she is. With that new password, I doubt her husband ever logs on.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s, like, her boss’s name. I think that’s what this Bavaria trip is about—part of it, anyway. They took the kids for the first week and then sent them home. I think she’s trying to save her marriage.”
And…
A sigh followed. “You’d be proud of me. I totes didn’t let on to Erika that I had ever been on that computer before.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? And why did you say you’d verified their activity if you knew it was fake.”
Her expression—was it shock that he’d found out, or shock at what he’d said? Confusion followed. After a couple of sips of water, she tried again and sounded less raspy. “What’s fake? It’s all on the computer. I could totally take you there and show you.”
“It’s fake, Flynne. Otto got a threatening call when CCTV shows her only taking a picture of her breakfast and then chatting with her companion. She did nothing else, and that picture showed up just when it should have.”
This time, he knew the expression meant shock. “How?”
He waited. Her eyes closed. They sat there in total silence. Mark felt better with each passing second. If she’d planned it, she’d have a “solution” or “explanation” by now. It’s what Flynne did. That she didn’t have one likely meant she believed what she said. Or she’s a better actress than you give her credit for.
“It should be so obvi, Mark, but I don’t know. I printed everything out. You saw it. That was on her actual, physical hard drive. I took it from there. I didn’t connect remotely, and I know I should have told you that, but I can tell you how to get in and how to see it for yourself.”
He passed his phone. “Call Tyler. Tell him how.”
She stared at it for a moment and sighed as she accepted it. “I so deserve that.”
Just as she swiped the screen, her face clouded. “Corey Knupp sent a text. She’s at the station.”
“Tell her to wait until I get there.” He deliberated a moment before adding, “And tell her we’re moving him.”
Thumbs flew with speeds that Mark could only envy. A moment later, she tapped the screen, tapped it again, and the ringing of a phone filled the space between them. “Hey, Mark? I—”
“It’s Flynne. Mark’s here. You’re on speaker.”
“Okaaay…”
She took another couple of sips of water before choking out, “Look, I heard you’re coming. Can we talk then? Mark has a job for you, and I need to tell you how to get in.”
“To where?”
“Mona Detweiler’s.” Flynne gave a wince as Tyler slammed a drawer. “Ready for instructions?”
“Let ’er rip.”
Let’s call this an assumed win.
Five minutes later, as he accepted his phone back, Mark eyed her. “I know you’re still recovering, but I have to say it anyway. If you ever keep information from me like that again, you’re fired. Going rogue was bad but understandable. This…”
“I thought you’d say no. I got to be, like, an agent without, like, any danger. It was supes fun. The real agent stuff…? It’s awful. How do they stand it?”
You don’t even see the danger, do you? Mark tried a Socratic approach. “So, what would you have done if you’d have gotten caught?”
Once more, the eyes closed. “Oh. Hashtag stupid dot com. Supes stupid. Like stupid cubed.” She giggled—the nervous giggle of someone about to fall apart. “It’s like that song if you say it all Bible-like.” She began croaking, “‘Stupid cube-ed, you’re a real dumb girl!’”
He rose, kissed her forehead, and said he’d go. “Just… talk to me next time, okay? For the record, I would have said yes.”
“But I’m just the office—”
He interrupted that one. “And my last office manager/tech person became an agent. I’m not unreasonable.”
She smiled. “Thanks for not, like, yelling. My head hurts.” If the whimper hadn’t echoed at the end of it, Mark might have felt manipulated. Instead, he promised to get the nurse to come check on what they could do for her. “It’s about time for her to come bug you and ensure you don’t get any sleep anyway. Get well. We need you in Rockland. We have to move base.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yes. I want your input on stuff, and I can’t get that if you’re not recuperated.” But only if Tyler clears you.
At the door, he promised to return before he left town. Flynne gave a little wave and said, “Later gator.”
When they’d been led to a Bombardier Challenger at the St. Louis Downtown Airport, Keith realized that the debriefing they were about to begin would be bigger than he’d expected. Corey had walked beside her brother with the nonchalance of a former agent in her element. It’s too bad you had to go off like that. We could use you right now.
Not until after the plane reached cruising altitude did Brent Knupp relax. “My family?”
“An agent has them at a secure location—for now, anyway. We need a more permanent solution, but I need information before I decide what that is.”
“Pictures.”
Of all the things Keith would have expected to open the debrief, “Pictures” seemed the least important.
Mark nodded. “Threatening or incriminating?”
“Threatening,” Corey snapped.
Brent just nodded. “Subtle, though. Just proof that the guy knew where my family was at all times—that if he wanted to, he could hurt them.”
“That’s how it began?”
A nod slowly turned into a shaking head. “I thought so—at first. Then I met t
he guy again.”
“Again?”
“He’d come into the coffee shop one day when I was waiting for the girls. Sat at the table next to me. Nodded at Erika and said it must be nice to have a job where the biggest danger was a coffee burn. Where your family didn’t have to worry about you not coming home.”
Keith shot a look at Corey. What did you tell your family?
She shot a silent response back. Nothing.
“He knew about Corey’s job then, did he?”
Brent shook his head. “I don’t—well, I didn’t think so. Not then. He just talked about Mark and how Mark sent him on these missions to protect people. Said he liked knowing he helped people, but he’d rather have Mark’s job—safe behind a desk and all.”
The airy whine of the engines sounded like someone vacuuming in the other room as Mark, Corey, and Keith all stared at Brent. Corey spoke first. “What was the guy’s name?”
“Bill Vering.”
While Mark urged Brent to continue, Keith pulled out Mark’s laptop and signed into the aircraft WIFI. A Facebook search brought up a list of them, but only three anywhere near Rockland. He turned the screen around. “Any of them?”
Brent shook his head.
After three more attempts, Keith went to Google image and tried every variation of Bill, William, Willard, Wilhelm—all of them. Eventually, the improvised “mug book” turned up a yes. With that, Keith went to work with his limited computer skills. Ten minutes in, he sent the few things he’d found to Tyler and requested what they needed.
Meanwhile, Brent talked. The words came out in full sentences, usually, but often with long pauses between them. Defeat, shame, and fear slashed across each word, leaving their marks behind. “I didn’t see him again, but I remembered the guy who loved his job but wanted out—wanted his boss’s job with better hours, better pay, less risk. I got that.”
There, Keith had to interject. “Just need to point out that we are in danger every time we go on an assignment, but Mark’s job has so much more long-term, constant stress. The guy clearly never worked for Mark.”
Mark nodded. “I’ve never seen him before.”
Hashtag Rogue Page 23
