Dangerous Lies

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Dangerous Lies Page 22

by Claudia Shelton


  Josh seemed intent on keying in searches and reading the results. Mitch wouldn’t break his train of thought.

  Reese made eye contact. “Let me see if any of my old media contacts can give me anything.”

  “What about the Interweb?”

  “That’s not my expertise, but I know a couple of guys who—”

  “Joey can do it. Drake’s always sending him out to help a company set up their tech systems.” Josh leaned back in his chair, rolling his pen through his fingers. “Want to hear something scary? From what I saw online, Liz’s former employer is a reputable publisher. They’ve won a lot of awards. Known to be trustworthy, confidential, and respectful. They also filed for bankruptcy two years ago, but cancelled at the last minute when an angel investor stepped in.”

  “I’d say that’s when Coercion Ten entered the picture.”

  “That would be my guess. Especially since the editor came on board at the same time, when a new section was created. The CFO replaced the existing one, who took early retirement, complete with a big-time umbrella package.”

  The odds on this assignment had been raised so many times in the past couple of hours, Mitch needed to strategize completely outside the box. If CT wanted Liz that much, they would need to get through his strategy.

  He made a decision. “We need to notch this up, guys. We’ll stay small, but we’ve got to be ready for anything. Josh, I want you here by tomorrow. Contact our resources in the military if need be. Reese has told me the boat he got is fast enough for what we might need, so nix the OPAQUE boat.”

  “Got it.”

  “We need at least one more agent. Who can you get?”

  “Stealth.”

  Reese stretched his neck from side to side. “I thought he was getting Cat back to St. Louis.”

  “I’ll put Joey on that along with working some Interweb stuff,” Josh said. “Her doctor said she can fly in a few days. I’ll go ahead and send him on one of our planes to pick her up in Ft. Myers.”

  “With Stealth in the mix, that makes four of us. What are you up to, Mitch?” Reese asked.

  Mitch hoped he hadn’t gone over the deep end with his theory. He’d know for sure by the guys’ reactions. “Offensive defense.”

  Reese and Josh nodded in unison.

  “We’ll all keep working every lead. Hopefully, we get a break. Otherwise, CT will track us down.” Mitch checked his gun. “I want us ready and in place.”

  “Got it,” Josh said. “I’ll get everything ready on this end and head your way in the morning. Stealth will come in from Ft. Myers. We’ll coordinate with Reese on the equipment drop.”

  “Add a little more firepower to that equipment package,” Mitch said. “But stay aware. There are families in the area. Vacationers. Locals. I don’t want any unnecessary public confrontations. And if it comes to action, make sure the bystanders don’t get hit.”

  Reese and Josh nodded.

  “Tell Stealth to loosen up a bit,” Mitch added.

  “Will do.” Josh laughed then took on a serious expression. “What are you going to tell Liz?”

  He’d have to tell her the truth. Sharing his logic would be fine. Telling her none of them might make it out alive was entirely different. “I’ll tell her she’s the bull’s-eye they’re after, but we four agents will take the bullet for her if need be.”

  “Sounds right.” Reese placed his hands behind his head and looked upward.

  Josh nodded. “You know she’s damn pissed at you right now?”

  “Yeah. Well, we all knew that would happen sooner or later. If the client isn’t already in captivity, they feel like they are once they’re under our protection. What’s wrong with us? Nobody in their right mind would take on the jobs we do.”

  Reese huffed. “You got to admit, though, it’s better than”—he huffed again—“there must be some job it’s better than.”

  Mitch always did his job, got paid, and did it again. Same routine every month for the past seven years. This time was different. This was the first time he’d felt any personal investment in a case.

  Hell, his gut was twisted tighter than an overwound mantel clock. One difference—a clock could be unwound, slow and easy. Him? He’d just keep winding till the spring broke.

  He jerked at the ringing of his landline phone. Only his leasing agent had that number, and that’s exactly who caller ID said was calling. He glanced at the clock on the computer screen—twenty-three hundred hours. Odd time for a call.

  Motioning the two men to be quiet, he pushed the receive button. “You’re working late, Mrs. Woods.”

  “I hate to bother you at this time of night, but you’ve always said I should let you know if anyone contacts me to lease your house. Well…” The lady sounded a bit unsure of herself. “…what with you being on-site, I thought it best to call.”

  Mitch changed to speakerphone and motioned for the other two men to listen quietly.

  “You said someone inquired about leasing my house,” Mitch asked.

  “Kind of.”

  “When?”

  “Earlier today, my agency held its weekly meeting. One of the items mentioned was someone looking for a house to rent. I could have sworn they were describing your property when they talked about needing an enclosed pool, Gulf view, and in-house top-rate security system as being a necessity. Struck me as odd.” She coughed, apologized, and took a drink of water. “I didn’t share my thoughts with anyone. Didn’t call the inquiring person back, either. Like I said, seemed odd someone might be inquiring on your house, since it’s not listed online.”

  His mind scrambled to find a rational explanation. “Do you think it might be one of the charities I’ve allowed to use the property before?”

  “My thoughts, too. That’s why I waited to contact you. But about fifteen minutes ago, someone called my cell phone.” Her tone held a quiver of anxiety. “Described the same info on what they were looking for. Even mentioned that it belonged to Mitch Granger.”

  His chest tightened. His name was nowhere on his property paperwork. Very few even knew of the house. He shook his head at Reese and Josh then motioned Josh to do a phone check on the leasing agent’s phone. Reese began clicking keys on his communication device also.

  Mrs. Woods paused as if waiting for a reaction. “Before I called you, I spoke with a few agents I know around Florida. They’d gotten the same call.”

  “Where are these other agents located?” Mitch had a really bad feeling, but depending on her answer, it was concerning or all-out code red danger.

  “A couple locals. The others are located anywhere from Daytona Beach to the Keys and points west all the way to Galveston, Texas.” Mrs. Woods cleared her throat. “Same words. Same voice. Same willingness to pay any amount.”

  “What did you tell them?” Mitch asked.

  “Told them I had no property in that name. They hung up.” Mrs. Woods blew out a sigh.

  “That’s good. Thank—”

  “They…they called back. Different number…same voice.” Mrs. Woods cleared her throat, swallowed loud enough to be heard. “Said they were looking for the Granger property. Wanted to lease it for a reunion. Said you both had a mutual friend who had told him about it.”

  Mitch stood. “Who?”

  Josh and Reese were working their ends yet listening intently about the message.

  “Didn’t say for sure, but left a message. I wrote it down,” she said. “They even had me repeat the message. Oops, I dropped the paper…wait…while I get it off the floor.”

  He struggled to keep from shouting for her to hurry up. Give him the names. But he knew how to pace himself when dealing with the public. Knew they had no idea the importance of what CT would say or do in regards to a job.

  “Got it. Are you ready?” Ms. Wood asked.

  “Sure, go ahead.” Mitch’s insides were racing a mile a second. He glanced toward the connecting door to Liz’s bedroom. Checked the clip in his gun.

  “The man s
aid he was an old friend of Elizabeth. Can hardly wait to see her with short hair. Would sure like to get together for a beer. Tell Drake, Josh, and his lovely wife Mackenzie hello. I won’t call again.” She stammered. “And…just so you know, his tone wasn’t all that friendly. Kind of…threatening.”

  With the clench of his teeth, Mitch felt the pressure of his temples harden with each tightening of his jaw. The day he discovered the rat in OPAQUE, that a-hole would be DOA.

  Josh grabbed his cell phone, held it for the guys to see, and pushed one button. Probably OPAQUE. Maybe home and Mackenzie.

  “I checked back with one of the leasing agents in Miami and New Orleans. They’d both gotten the same call back. Anyhow, that’s why I called so late,” Mrs. Woods said. “Is there anything you’d like me to do?”

  “Sounds like something you might want to report to the police,” Mitch said, knowing he’d be reporting it to OPAQUE, the FBI, CIA, and others. “But I’d appreciate it if you could keep my name out of the report. I don’t get to the beach house all that often, so I’d hate to be tied up in questions the whole time.”

  “I understand. I’ll call in a report right now. I’ve had to do things like that before when a would-be tenant gets overzealous,” Mrs. Woods said.

  “Sounds good. Be sure you set all your security at the office and home, too.” Mitch raked his fingers through his hair. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  The moment he ended the call, he sent a heads-up message to OPAQUE headquarters. Also asked them to get in touch with any operatives in the area and have them keep a watch on Mrs. Woods. He doubted CT would bother her again, but he’d feel better if she and his neighbors had an extra layer of protection the next few days.

  “That’s one hell of a CT message,” Reese muttered.

  “Yeah. Hell of a message.” Mitch glanced at Josh on the computer screen. “Everything good on your home front?”

  Josh nodded. “OPAQUE will get some extra eyes on Macki. We’re good. You’re in charge of this mission, but if CT makes any further moves, you may need to rethink your strategy. Stay or take off cross country again.”

  Mitch didn’t need to rethink. “This house is top of the line in security. Tech is A-1 and satellite linked. Everything needed to repel an attack is on-site, including an arsenal of weapons in concealed spots around the house. No place better to meet them head on.” He sat back down in front of the computer. “We make our stand here. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Josh said and Reese nodded.

  “Besides, we knew CT would try to track us. But they haven’t narrowed in on my house. They’re not even sure of the area yet.” At least that’s what Mitch decided to hold on to for now. Still, the thought that CT could be toying with OPAQUE to get even more insights into their inner workings gnawed at his mind.

  Ten minutes later, Mitch clicked off the computer and walked into Liz’s bedroom. He found her still dressed, stretched out on her bed. “Liz?’

  Half asleep, she opened her eyes. “I want to go for a walk on the beach.”

  “No.” This latest info on a for-sure CT inquiry squashed any thoughts of venturing outside. Until he heard from Drake, there’d be no walks on the beach.

  She grabbed the edge of the bedspread and rolled over, her back facing him. Staying dressed, he lay down beside her. Making sure not to touch her, he stayed on his side of the bed on top of the sheet.

  Scrunching the pillow under his head, he laid his gun on the nightstand. She could be one formidable foe when she wanted to be. Out there on the deck, he’d realized they could never have a life together. He’d already known, but he’d let himself hope. All hope was gone now, and not because of the panic attack he and OPAQUE had caused.

  Because, if they did, he’d spend every night lying in bed beside her, staring at the ceiling. Listening for the slightest movement in the house. Sensing a stranger’s presence in the hallway. Somehow during the past few days, he’d let her become more precious…than his final breath. And there was no going back.

  No unwinding the clock.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Liz opened her eyes, and without even glancing at the other side of the bed, realized she was alone. In her room. In her bed. In her clothes.

  During the night she’d awoken once, finding herself snuggled against Mitch’s side, she under the bedspread, him not. At least they had both finally been in the same bed for some sleep. Trouble was, they’d both been fully dressed. She’d liked yesterday afternoon, undressed for the seahorse ride, much better.

  Right now she’d take either option. Alone, she didn’t much like.

  A lot of things had been said by both of them out on the deck last night. Her panic attack had started everything; his past had finished what little they had to hold onto in their arrangement. Finally, his ultimatum that they needed to stop whatever was between them had sent her in search of sleep. There’d been only so much she could take in one gulp.

  Besides, he seemed like the type who needed to have time to cool off before he could see any other direction. Last night all he’d focused on was his own all-fired sure-of-himself decisions in life. His story had been gut-wrenching…for both of them.

  Today, they would need to talk again. Of course, he’d fight that, too.

  She rolled out of her side of the bed and stretched, noticing the rumpled sheets from where he’d slept on the other half of the bed. His head’s indentation in the pillow was barely there, which meant he’d been up for a while. Taking her time, she showered, shampooed, shaved her legs, did her nails, her toenails, brushed on a tad of makeup, anything and everything she could think of to do in the room. Satisfied she’d stalled as long as possible, she opened the door and headed downstairs to the kitchen. The clock on the landing showed eleven a.m. She’d procrastinated long enough.

  The media room door was closed, with a one-word note, scribbled in all caps with a red marker, taped to the doorframe. —WORKING—

  All right. If he wanted to be that way, she could, too. She still had plenty to do with the post-it note layout of her past weeks of work that was still spread across the dining room table. First on the agenda, though, was food.

  She fixed a small plate of cheese and crackers, nuts and fruit, including a water, then slid onto one of the counter stools. After the escapade with the chocolate milk, she’d had enough of the same routine for breakfast.

  Noise at the door to outside caught her attention a second before it opened. Reese stepped inside, reaching to click off the security system. Mitch barreled out of the media room, gun drawn.

  “Good morning, Reese,” she said, nibbling on the cheese.

  “Good morning.” He stepped to the counter, grabbing a few crackers from her stash as he winked.

  She glanced in the other direction, sarcasm in her tone. “Good to see you again, Mitch.”

  He snarled. “Good to see you, too.

  “Awwwwww, isn’t that sweet?” Reese grinned. “Trouble in paradise.”

  “Shove it, Reese,” Mitch barked.

  “Yeah, shove it.” She smiled along with the words. In the midst of all the danger that was happening in her life, it felt good to be flip about something. Her situation with Mitch wasn’t flip, but Reese had lightened the load with his humor.

  The media room door opened again, and a man she’d never seen walked through. Dressed in a black muscle shirt and green fatigue pants, he was lean, yet the hardened biceps confirmed his strength. An angular face with a slight cleft in his chin was accentuated with piercing and hooded blue eyes, a Roman nose, and a full bottom lip. His dark hair should have been cut an inch ago.

  The man nodded in her direction. “People call me Stealth.”

  His voice rumbled low…and smooth, like a gale-force wind with a shot of Jose Cuervo.

  Josh brought up the rear of the men coming from the media room. Serious and focused, he checked his gun as he walked. The men—Mitch, Reese, Josh, Stealth—all did a brother-in-arms forearm shake.

&
nbsp; Now she was scared. “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on? Because I feel like I missed the memo.”

  “There were a few things that changed last night, so I called the team together.” Mitch didn’t make eye contact with her. “Then, lucky for us, more things changed this morning.” He held out one of the computer panels from the kitchen desk area. “You might find this interesting.”

  Taking the panel, she glanced down. “Oh my gosh. That’s…that’s my dad.” Her voice quivered. “And Drake. Where…what…”

  “Early yesterday, Drake let us know he was on Russ’s trail, but I didn’t want to tell you anything until it was finalized.”

  “Is this real?”

  “Yeah. We’ve date and code verified the photo. They’re in Key West where Russ was on vacation. He knew nothing about what was going on.”

  “So, all the messages were sent from CT?”

  Josh nodded. “No system is foolproof. Somehow CT was able to use your dad’s phone number to send you texts.”

  “How do you know the photo isn’t being sent by CT, also?” At this point, she planned to ask and double ask to make sure she covered all the bases in her mind.

  “That’s why we date code verified the photo. It’s real.”

  She swiped at the happy tears rolling down her face, then jerked when the panel she was holding binged with an incoming Skype. “What do I do?”

  Mitch glanced over her shoulder. “It has the right code. Tap the accept.”

  The moment she did, her dad’s image popped on the screen, and Mitch stepped out of the frame. “Dad, you’re okay.”

  “Sure am, punkin’.” Russ shook his head. “I don’t know what the heck has been going on. I’m just glad Drake found me.”

  “Me too.” She sighed then smiled. A weight seemed to have been lifted from her shoulders. “Drake’s OPAQUE group has been great at making sure I’m safe.”

  “Looks like I’ll have a lot of people to thank for that. Who was that guy by you?”

 

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