Sins of the Fatherland (Scott Jarvis Investigations Book 6)

by Scott Cook

  She smirked, “It’s all right. I do. And I’d love to. Perhaps you’d give me a few minutes first? There are one or two small things I need to finish.”

  “Great,” I said, “I’ll meet you there in say… fifteen or twenty minutes?”

  “I look forward to it,” she said and moistened her lips.

  As I clomped down the gangway onto the dock, I once again marveled at how I’d let myself get kidnapped and taken to the Gulf Coast of Florida without a damned phone! I had my wallet, thankfully, but I’d left my iPhone in the Jeep, and that left illegally parked in Orlando.

  There had to be a phone somewhere that I could use. I strolled over to the Blue Sunshine Patio where what sounded like a local rock band was playing. I wandered onto the deck and up to the bar.

  “Evenin’,” A stocky smiling woman closing in on middle age asked, “Can I get you something, stranger?”

  I laughed, “Sarsaparilla, darlin’. Anything good on tap?”

  She ran the list down and I ordered a local lager called a Green Flash. I asked if there was a bar phone I could use. The bartender, Patty, said she’d let me use it but it’d cost me.

  I chuckled, “Whatever it takes, Patricia, whatever it takes.”

  She grinned, “Hopin’ you’d say that. Hang on a sec.”

  She brought me a cordless and I dialed one of the few phone numbers that still rattled around in the dank halls of my memory.

  “If you’re selling something I don’t want it… if you’re shilling for the FOP I’m already a member… and if you’re a tall, dark and handsome detective who can’t stay the fuck out of trouble, I’m all ears.”

  I guffawed, “So you’re a psychic now?”

  Sharon scoffed, “Scotty, punkin, it’s not that much of a stretch.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Guess that’s why we never hooked up after all… not that much of a stretch, as I hear it.”

  “Oh yeah? I’m just afraid the echo would deafen me.”

  She chortled gleefully, “You’re such a dick!”

  “You started it,” I countered.

  “Touché. Now where are you and how much trouble are you in?”

  “I’m in Sarasota,” I replied, “And I don’t know… but I have a favor or two to ask.”

  “You need a lift?”

  “Maybe… How’d you know?”

  “You left your new Jeep parked on Central in the wrong lane, for one. That’s the kind of shit that gets noticed in this town. Especially in front of Greg Goddamned Foster’s office. What’s going on?”

  “Well… I’m not sure, exactly…” I began hesitantly. I told her the shortest version I could. I left out the reason that I stormed into Foster’s office until the very end. Sharon started to cry.

  “Oh… oh, Jesus, Scott…” she said through her sniffles, “Why? Why would somebody do that?”

  I felt a lump form in my own throat and swallowed hard, “I… I don’t know. But the people I thought did it say they didn’t…”

  She chuffed derisively, “That’s exactly what the fuck I’d expect them to say. So what do we do? I want some payback… I love that little guy…”

  I sighed, “Me too. But if it’s not Brody and it’s of course not Lambert… then who else would kill my dog? There’s nobody else wrapped up in this.”

  There was a short pause while she considered this, “We don’t know Brody and his Arab friends didn’t do it.”

  “I know,” I said, “But let’s assume for the moment.”

  “Okay… then there’s yet another party involved. One you don’t know about yet… or its Foster, but if he’s connected with Brody…”

  I sighed, “Christ, my head hurts… I’m going to stay here tonight. It’ll let me snoop around some more. Maybe something will pop up.”

  Sharon didn’t even make a joke about Imani and something popping up. She was really upset and I couldn’t blame her.

  “Scott… I know it’s silly to say… but please be careful.”

  “Fear not,” I said, “When have I ever taken a risk that’s gotten me into danger?”

  “Ha, ha, ha,” She said flatly, “Keep in touch. Don’t worry about the Jeep. It’s secure.”

  I hung up and pushed the phone back across the bar. Patty picked it up and raised an eyebrow at me, “There’s a rather pretty woman staring at you from the entrance. Guess I’m about to be replaced, huh?”

  I smiled a bright smile at Patty, “No one could ever replace you, my dear.”

  I turned and saw Imani Tariffa watching me. When she saw me turn her way, she started walking toward me. It was a pleasant thing to witness.

  Chapter 18

  Imani smiled at me and said in her melodious middle-eastern accent, “Hello, sailor. Come here often?”

  I grinned, “Every time I’m Tasered and kidnapped, doll face.”

  She flushed a little and indicated a table in a corner as far away from the other patrons as was possible. I pulled out her chair and we sat.

  Before we could speak, a server approached and took our drink order. Imani ordered a Cabernet and I ordered another beer. After our server retreated, I gazed at her expectantly.

  “You have a question?” She asked bemusedly.

  “I have many questions,” I replied, “Perhaps we can start with why you agreed to have a drink with me.”

  She smiled, “Is it such a mystery? A handsome man asks a lady for a drink and she accepts.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said.

  Her smile didn’t waver, “Do you suspect I have an ulterior motive, Scott?”

  I shrugged and sipped my Killian’s, “yes. Not to belabor the point, Imani… but I was assaulted and abducted by what I’ve been led to believe is my enemy. Fine sounding explanations aside, I’m not convinced that A: Brody isn’t Henry Lambert’s nemesis. B: that you folks aren’t responsible for murdering my dog. C: That either Brody or Al-Rajid really wants or needs my help. And that’s just for starters.”

  She nodded, “I understand. Wisely cautious. And I’ll also assume that your suspicions extend beyond Jibreel and Jack? That you suspect I’m also your enemy. And perhaps even McClay?”

  I smiled now, “I don’t think McClay is.”

  “Oh?” She asked, “What grants him your trust?”

  “I know him,” I said, “We’ve… worked together in the past.”

  “Ah,” she said, taking a delicate sip from her wine, “So that just leaves the Arab girl. Not to be trusted.”

  I made a dismissive gesture, “I don’t know enough to make a judgement on you either way, Imani. Maybe all this is as your bosses say. Maybe you’re just a lovely, intelligent and very fascinating woman who really seems to be attracted to me.”

  “Is that so hard to believe?” She asked.

  I grinned, “Absolutely not. I’m as cute as a button, there’s no question on it. The question, though, is are you genuinely attracted to me in that way that happens between men and women when they’re lucky. Instant chemistry. Or…”

  “Or am I a Mata Hari who’s trying to seduce you to gain your confidence and allegiance,” she finished for me. She said it without rancor, however.

  I nodded, “Can you blame me for wondering?”

  “No,” She said matter of factly, “You’re powers of observation and intuition are substantial. They are in line with what I’ve heard. You don’t know me, or us for that matter. There is much about me you don’t know, so you’re correct to be wary.”

  I suddenly had a feeling that all was not as it seemed. This wasn’t the first revelatory conversation I’ve had with a beautiful woman. I narrowed my eyes at her, “Are you about to tell me you’re a federal agent or something?”

  She laughed heartily, “So you really do think I’m Mata Hari, eh?”

  I grinned, “It’s happened before.”

  “Perhaps you’ve been reading too many Robert B. Parker books,” Imani replied, tasting her wine again. Her eyes sparkled over the rim. She was rea
lly entrancing, “Spy novels? Perhaps one too many Randy Wayne White adventures?”

  “Those are fiction,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Are they?” She asked bemusedly as if maybe they weren’t.

  “How do you know I’m a fan of those authors?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Sun Tzu,” She offered by way of explanation.

  I got the distinct impression that I was being tested. I leaned back in my chair and frowned, “know thine enemy?”

  “And know thyself,” she said, “Although enemy is not accurate. The last thing I want, Scott… is to be your enemy.”

  She said this last in a soft and sultry whisper and finished by slowly running the tip of her tongue along her lips, her eyes never breaking contact with mine. I felt an electric thrill tingle its way down my spine and a stirring in my belly.

  “Who are you?” I asked softly, almost to myself.

  She chuckled softly, “What would you give to find out? What would you offer me to entice me to open myself to you?”

  Both of my eyebrows went up.

  She continued to chuckle, “I refer to the vault of my secrets, Scott.”

  “Of course,’ I said, ignoring the stiffening below my waist band.

  Now she laughed again, “You are cute. As for, and please forgive my crudeness, me opening my legs to you… that you have already ensured. I knew I’d make love to you, if you so choose, upon our first exchange of words.”

  “Oh?” I asked feeling more than a little surprise at her candor.

  She nodded, “As you say, instant chemistry. And just so you understand, this isn’t something that happens to me often. I do not, to use an overused colloquialism, grant my favors lightly.”

  “Good to know,” I said, “Glad that I’m among the privileged few.”

  “Perhaps you would find me dull?” She asked, “As compared to your other women. Perhaps you wouldn’t feel any privilege at all.”

  I scoffed, “Imani, I can’t imagine that to be true.”

  Her eyes sparkled again with the promise they held and she batted them, “No. Modesty as we’ve already discussed, is not one of my failings. You will find me… quite an acceptable lover. However, what I want to know is what would you offer me to gain my confidence?”

  “What do you ask?” I replied, enjoying this very enigmatic exchange. She was right, I was feeling very much like a character in a spy novel.

  She eyed me for a long moment. She seemed to be pondering a decision. Finally she leaned in and locked eyes with me again. There was a heat in them, but not the heat of sexuality, as there had been a moment before, but something else entirely, yet equally ardent, “I require your allegiance.”

  I snorted a laugh, “Oh? Must I swear an oath to your master? Shall I fall on bended knee and declare my fealty to thy ruler?”

  She didn’t even crack a smile, just continued to stare me down, “No. To me, Scott. I want you to swear an oath to me.”

  “Indeed,” I stated, “And what would that oath be?”

  “That you’ll trust me,” She said, “And that when I ask you to do something, or to believe something, that you will without hesitation.”

  “Is that all?” I asked breezily, “I simply offer you my complete and unquestioning loyalty. Just like that, huh?”

  “This isn’t a lifetime commitment,” She said, “Simply that there may come a time during this… this situation, that I will need you. I will need your help or even protection. I will need your trust because without it… all may be lost.”

  “This conversation has gone from interesting to exciting to downright confusing,” I said, “However, considering what’s at stake, I can see how that could be. So let me reverse the question to you, Ms. Tarriffa… what do you offer to me as a guarantee that I’m backing the right horse, so to speak. And please don’t say your favors.”

  She snickered, “No, I wouldn’t insult us both. I’ve already said that my favors are yours for the taking… anytime you desire. No, this is separate. Business is business and pleasure is pleasure. All I can offer is that I’ll reveal more of what I know in exchange for your trust and devotion. And my promise that you will not be disappointed.”

  I took a deep sip from my beer and pondered the striking and mysterious woman before me. She seemed to be asking a lot of me. On the other hand, now that I knew there was more to be learned, could I refuse her?

  And what of Audrey Lambert? She and I had shared a night of passion only the evening before. What was I doing even considering what I was considering doing with this woman?

  Then again, perhaps I had no choice. Events were beginning to accelerate and if I didn’t accelerate with them, I’d be left in the dust. And with what I already knew of the mission at hand, that just wasn’t an option.

  I also couldn’t ignore my own inner voice. That inner voice that was shouting at me that nothing in this case was as it seemed. That the clearly defined players were in fact not so clearly defined. Logic wouldn’t resolve this one, or at least not logic alone. I’d have to feel my way through.

  “There you guys are!” Came Joe McClay’s booming voice. We looked up to see the burly captain step into the restaurant and start making his way toward us.

  “Imani grinned, “Saved by the bell?”

  McClay pulled out a chair and settled himself, “I’m not interrupting anything interesting am I?”

  “Everything I do is interesting, Joseph,” Imani said with a charming smile, “You should know that by now.”

  “Girly,” Joe said, waving at the pretty raven haired server, “If I were fifteen years younger, I think I might be able to show you something interesting.”

  “I suppose it’s just my loss that you’re a wizened old man, then,” Imani said with a chuckle.

  McClay guffawed good naturedly, “Thems the breaks, kid. So what’re you two cooking up?”

  “A mutiny,” I said with a grin, “How the Christ did you end up here, Joe?”

  McClay eyed me and then cut his eyes to the Arab woman.

  “He told me you know one another,” Imani said, “I’d like to know how.”

  McClay raised an eyebrow at her, “As if you don’t already.”

  “All right,” I said, my mood suddenly losing the warmth I was feeling a moment before, “What the hell is going on here? You two obviously know more than I do and it’s no secret how Joe and I know each other and that she knows it already. Now let’s drop the cutie pie routine and lay our cards on the damned table.”

  “We’ve discussed this,” Imani said, “It’s a matter of trust.”

  I glared at McClay. He dropped his eyes for a moment, “Scott… it’s complicated.”

  “Yeah, no shit it’s complicated,” I stated, “And getting more so by the second. Now somebody better start explaining something around here, because I’ve already had just about enough of this Man from U.N.C.L.E. nonsense.”

  “I can’t say anything more without her permission,” McClay stated.

  “Who’s in charge here, Joe?”

  He chuckled, “Not me, pal. I just drive the damned boat.”

  “Yeah, just like last time,” I said suspiciously, “amazing how you end up in the middle of yet another potential international incident working for the bad guys… or what look to be the bad guys. An amazing coincidence. And for the record… I do not believe in coincidences.”

  “Either way, I’m not the boss,” McClay said, spreading his hands and sipping at the beer he’d received a moment earlier, “Imani is.”

  “You mean Al-Rajid is,” I probed.

  “Not in this case,” Imani said, “Joseph works for me.”

  “Did you swear an oath too, Joe?” I asked suspiciously.

  “As it so happens…” The Irishman replied cagily.

  “Scott, we need you,” Imani urged. She sounded almost frantic, “I need you. But I must know I can count on you when it really, truly matters!”

  “She can be trusted, Scott,” McClay sta
ted.

  Whatever I might have said was cut short by yet another intrusion. This one came in the form of a statuesque blonde whose pale blue eyes were alight with fury.

  “What are you doing with him?” She barked at Imani as she stalked toward us.

  “Well, Ms. Lambert,” Imani said smoothly, “So glad you could join us.”

  Audrey Lambert stood over us, glaring at each of us in turn. Her eyes didn’t soften when they met mine.

  “Audrey…” I muttered, “How did you find me?”

  “I talked to Sharon,” Audrey said, “she told me you were here and why… and told me about Morgan… I’m sorry.”

  She did soften then. I stood and pulled a chair out for her, “You came to rescue me?”

  “Something like that,” Audrey said as she sat and glowered at the other woman, “Although you don’t look like you need rescuing. Maybe don’t want it either? Has she already gotten her hooks into you?”

  “I take it you ladies have met,” I said evenly. I was trying not to rise to her bait. No sense making it worse at the moment. I couldn’t help but notice the amusement playing across McClay’s face.

  “We’ve met,” Imani said smoothly.

  “Yes, we’ve met,” Audrey said heatedly. She said nothing more, however.

  “Perhaps we got off to a bad start,” Imani offered cordially, “Let me make it up to you, Audrey. We’re about to have dinner aboard the Ballard. Perhaps you’d join us?”

  Audrey scoffed, “Dinner with the enemy?”

  “Or perhaps not your enemy after all,” Imani offered, “it would give you a chance to see what we’re all about in person, rather than simply trying to compete with us and making wild accusations. It would be the four of us along with Jack Brody and Jibreel Al-Rajid.”

  “Into the lion’s den, huh?” Audrey replied icily, “I suppose dining with one’s foes is better than sleeping with them.”

  At this last she shot a look at me. I had to admit I was disappointed. This was more like the Audrey Lambert I’d met in my office a few days before and not the warm woman I’d spent the previous night with.