Bullets and Beads

by Jana DeLeon

  “But trouble followed her here.”

  I nodded. “Something about her death irritated Larry. There was this expression—only for a second—but I caught it.”

  “So maybe the friend was trouble and Larry knew it. Then he wouldn’t have been happy about the visit or the subsequent fallout, assuming this woman was using them to hide out.”

  “Exactly. But there’s another potential explanation—the friend looks like and was dressed like Larry’s wife. And was, in fact, standing there with the couple’s daughter.”

  Mannie raised one eyebrow. “That is interesting.”

  “Yes, but even if Larry is still on the intel books, why would someone want to kill his wife?”

  “I don’t know. Sending a message, maybe? If we knew exactly what Larry worked on then we might have a better guess. Based on Mr. Hebert’s gut, I made a few phone calls and kicked up some information on Larry but nothing on the wife or the friend. Given your observations, there’s probably no simple explanation behind the shooting. And I can tell by your expression that you don’t think so either.”

  “Is there ever? Good Lord, assassinations were less complicated than this civilian stuff.”

  “If it is civilian stuff.”

  “And there’s the big unknown.”

  He nodded. “I did find the military simpler in many ways. But the sleeping arrangements and the food are much better on the civilian side.”

  “Definitely.”

  “So are you going to be poking your nose into police business?”

  “Not officially. We don’t have a client and I don’t think the Heberts can stretch to cover this one for me.”

  “Probably not, but you have an interest.”

  “Of course I’m interested, which you already knew. You didn’t come here in the middle of the night for my beer.”

  He grinned. “I’ll bet the good deputy has dropped in late for more than the beer.”

  “You’d be correct. Sometimes, it’s for a roast beef sandwich.”

  He laughed. “If that were the only reason, it would truly be a shame. You’re an interesting woman, Fortune. I’m sure you’re giving Carter plenty of reasons to keep you on his radar.”

  “Why do I get the impression that my relationship amuses you?”

  “‘Amuses’ isn’t really the correct term as I believe it implies a certain level of disdain. I’m simply impressed that someone with your history can venture so well into normal romantic and domestic pursuits. Let’s just say it gives me hope for myself someday and leave it at that.”

  I smiled. “You know, if you want to go the sabertooth route, Gertie has been checking you out since the first moment she saw you.”

  He cringed. “I haven’t had enough beer for that comment.”

  I laughed. “One of these days…the right woman will hit you just the right way and you’ll see things differently.”

  “Maybe. It’s an interesting thought, anyway.”

  I spent another couple seconds imagining Mannie in domestic bliss but it wasn’t all that simple. He was a man of action, and picturing him in a recliner watching a football game wasn’t all that easy an image to formulate.

  “You know,” I said, shifting gears, “when I saw you here, I thought it was about the other situation.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve shared all the intel I have on that for the moment. But I’m still making inquiries.”

  “And I appreciate it. But there’s something I need to tell you.”

  He straightened a bit in his chair and gave me a nod.

  “You know my father was in the same line of work as me and he was really good at it.”

  “I’ve heard as much.”

  “Then you also heard he was killed during a mission when I was a teenager.”

  “Yes. The Heberts had me do a thorough check on you before they ever became involved.”

  “Wouldn’t want to sully their reputation by association?”

  He smiled. “Something like that.”

  “Well, I learned a couple months ago that my father is still alive.”

  I don’t know what Mannie had been expecting to hear, but that clearly wasn’t it. His eyes widened in surprise and he set his beer down so hard on the table that some sloshed out. I’d never seen him do anything so dramatic and it was slightly unnerving.

  “You’re certain?” he asked.

  “I’m certain that Director Morrow believes it’s the case. And I’m equally certain that he’s not happy about it.”

  Mannie nodded and I knew he’d immediately understood all the implications—mostly negative—if it proved to be factual.

  “Tell me what you know,” he said.

  I explained about the camera and the Taliban connection, and Mannie asked a few questions about his remains. It didn’t take long to bring him up to speed because there wasn’t a whole lot to tell. What we knew was far outweighed by what we wanted to know.

  “So you think the inquiries made about you have something to do with your father’s return from the dead?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but you have to admit that the timing is suspicious.”

  He frowned and I could tell he didn’t like it any more than I did.

  “You have to be on alert,” he said. “And that means no more forgetting your alarm. If the enemy thinks you can lead them to your father, they won’t hesitate to make a move.”

  “If the enemy knows anything at all, then they’ll know I have no idea where my father is and that I’m probably just as pissed as they are to find out he’s still alive.”

  “I get that, but while I know you’re telling the truth, the enemy will simply think you’re protecting an active operative.”

  I sighed. “And they’ll think I’m still active as well. I know. I covered all of this with Carter after you told us about the inquiries.”

  “I know you’re more than capable of handling a man, even an assassin, and probably far more than one. But if the enemy is after your father, they’re not going to send just anyone. They’ll send the best team they can put together. In certain circles, both of your reputations precede you.”

  “Yeah.”

  I stared out the kitchen window into the backyard. The window that probably should have had the blinds drawn as soon as the sun went down. The window that I’d just had sensors put on because I was no longer safe in my home, in the town where people often forgot to lock their doors.

  Mannie rose from his chair and gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. I know you had different ideas about how your future was going to look.”

  “It can still look that way. I just have to figure this out first.”

  “I know Carter is standing right next to you on this and those two crazy women won’t let you out of their sight for very long. But I’ll be looking into things myself. And I’m certain that the Heberts will be anxious to help in any way possible. I won’t tell them anything because that’s your call. But if there’s anything you need that you can’t put your hands on, let me know. Their connections sometimes put military intelligence to shame.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  He gave me a nod, then headed out the back door. “Lock it and turn on that alarm,” I heard him say as he walked away.

  I did as instructed and closed the blind, noticing that he was walking the perimeter of my backyard as I snapped it shut. I cut myself a slice of pie and flopped down at the table. This was bad. When people like Mannie got worried, it was well beyond your typical emergency. I knew that, of course. I’d known that since that first phone call from Morrow. But with every passing week, the noose seemed to tighten.

  I was unofficially back in the game.

  Chapter Seven

  Despite the excitement of the parade, the murder, the news that someone in the intelligence community was trying to locate me, and the ongoing drama surrounding my father’s return from the dead, I actually slept decently. Which was likely due to the pie, t
he beers, and the shots of Sinful Ladies Cough Syrup I’d had before finally trudging upstairs and collapsing in my bed.

  It wasn’t a very long sleep, however. I hadn’t made the trek from the kitchen until almost 3:00 a.m., and since Merlin considered anything past 7:00 a.m. slacking, he was standing on my chest at 7:01 treating me to his rendition of opera. I’d never been a huge fan of opera, and Merlin wasn’t improving that situation any. I knew that if I kicked him out of the room, he’d either sit outside the door and sing louder or be extraordinarily quiet all day while plotting his revenge. The second option was the one that had me climbing out of bed and heading downstairs to give him his breakfast.

  It was just as well. Gertie and Ida Belle arrived ten minutes later, Gertie looking like the Michelin Man. Most of her body was wrapped in what looked like ice packs. Her arms were forced out so wide that she had to turn sideways to get in my front door.

  “Should I even ask?” I asked as I closed the door.

  “You should ice injuries for the first twenty-four hours,” Gertie said. “Then you switch to heat.”

  “So you’re telling me that tomorrow, you’re going to show up wrapped in heating pads like a burrito and expecting me to find you twenty extension cords?”

  “Probably,” Ida Belle said. “You might want to have a spare breaker on hand just in case she shorts out the whole shooting match. In fact, I might call the power company and warn them. Does this house have a backup generator?”

  “You’re hilarious,” Gertie said. “And since you forced me out of the house in the middle of my second round of icing and before I could manage a first cup of coffee, I think we should move this barage of insults into the kitchen.”

  “Will she fit down the hallway?” Ida Belle asked. “Maybe we should have her walk around and come in the back door.”

  I grinned as Gertie managed to lift one arm and give Ida Belle the finger, then had to have help putting it back down before she could traverse the hallway. Once in the kitchen, we each grabbed an arm and got her into a chair. Given all the extra weight and the extreme bulk, she swayed back and forth a bit until Ida Belle yanked my tablecloth off the table and tied her to the chair.

  “I feel like that woman in Florida,” Gertie said. “The crazy bird lady. Remember?”

  “How could we forget?” Ida Belle said. “It’s not every day that you get chased around a buffet with a plastic flamingo.”

  “Which, when you think about it, is really a shame,” I said. “It was one of the less dangerous of the situations Gertie has managed to get into.”

  “Not for the dessert table,” Ida Belle said.

  “That was a big loss,” I agreed.

  “If either of you would like to stop with the recollection of that very unfortunate incident, I’d love a cup of coffee,” Gertie said.

  “You’re the one who brought it up,” Ida Belle said as she poured a double serving of coffee into a thermos and passed it over to Gertie. Then she poured herself a cup and refilled mine before taking a seat across from me.

  “I’m sorta surprised to see you up and at ’em already,” Ida Belle said. “Merlin?”

  “You know it,” I said. “I was afraid to sleep in even though I barely got four hours.”

  Gertie sighed. “If only I had a hunky man to take away my sleep.”

  “Oh, Carter never made it here last night,” I said. “In fact, I haven’t even heard from him this morning. But then I figure he’s avoiding me as long as he can, given what he does for a living and who I am as a person.”

  Gertie and Ida Belle glanced at each other.

  “Then since Carter isn’t the reason for your lack of rest, what’s going on?” Ida Belle asked. “Because as interesting as the situation last night was, I don’t think it kept you awake.”

  “The wardrobe malfunction might have,” Gertie said. “Gave me nightmares.”

  “Good point,” Ida Belle said and gave me an expectant look.

  “As much as it pains me to admit it, seeing inappropriate body parts on people I never wanted to see them on has become sort of common since I moved here,” I said.

  “Then there is something else bothering you,” Ida Belle said.

  “A couple of things, actually,” I said. “I was going to tell you part of it last night. Then the murder took center stage, and since it was far less personal, I sort of put it off again.”

  Gertie immediately clued into my use of the word “personal.”

  “It’s about your father,” she said.

  I nodded and brought them up to date on the latest news from Morrow and the information Mannie had given Carter and me the night before. They listened intently, never uttering a word, and even when I finished, they just sat staring at each other with a level of concern in their expressions that I hadn’t seen since my showdown with Ahmad.

  “So what’s the plan?” Ida Belle asked finally.

  I smiled, my chest clenching a bit. Not even a hint that they might need to step back. Not even a flicker of fear that some of the best-trained assassins in the world might be gunning for me. I knew that would be the case with them, but there was something so totally empowering about experiencing it firsthand.

  “Not much at the moment,” I said. “Morrow, Carter, and Mannie are all working their resources and I am on high alert.”

  “What about Harrison?” Gertie asked, referring to my former partner at the CIA.

  “Morrow has already worked him into the loop,” I said. “He’ll utilize any resources he has, but he’s been out as long as I have.”

  “But he’s on alert as well,” Ida Belle said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s taking extra precautions. I’m sure anyone interested in me and what I’m up to already knows who he is and what our relationship was. Harrison is prepared. We know these sorts of things can happen when we take the job.”

  “But you don’t necessarily plan on it,” Gertie said.

  “No,” I said.

  I’d already done a couple rounds of guilty feelings for the position Harrison was in. He’d left the CIA and gone into private security because he wanted to start a family and do the whole normal-life thing. This was a complication that he didn’t need. And even though I knew he didn’t blame me for it, I couldn’t help feeling responsible.

  “This isn’t on you,” Ida Belle said.

  Jeez, the woman was a mind reader.

  “I know that,” I said.

  “But you still feel guilty because it’s your father causing it,” Gertie said.

  I didn’t say anything.

  Ida Belle leaned forward in her chair. “Remember this—the person most wronged by that man is you. And there’s nothing you could have done to change the actions he decided to take all those years ago. You were a child when he went off to do whatever it is he’s been doing. So there’s nothing you could have done to prevent what’s happening now. It is all precipitated by his choices.”

  Gertie nodded. “Even if you’d never become an operative, and you were a hairstylist with six kids and living in Idaho, people who wanted to find your father would have still come looking for you now.”

  “Yeah, but they would have been a lot less armed,” I said.

  “You’ve taken the necessary precautions,” Ida Belle said. “But Mannie is right—that alarm does no good if it’s not engaged.”

  “It probably doesn’t do a whole lot of good when it is engaged,” I said. “At least, not against the kind of people who would come gunning for me. I could disable this in seconds and it’s military grade.”

  “You’re special, Fortune,” Ida Belle said. “And I have no doubt that people who might show up here would be special as well, but special has all kinds of levels.”

  “My money’s still on you in a gunfight,” Gertie said. “Unless you give Ida Belle a second on the draw. She’s still lethal.”

  Ida Belle waved a hand in dismissal but I could tell the compliment pleased her. “I’m years past drawing on someone
like Fortune and thinking I’d come out of it unscathed, but Gertie makes a valid point. Of all the people I’ve ever met, you’re probably the most capable of taking care of yourself, but even you can benefit from a little warning.”

  “I promise, I will have the alarm on as soon as I’m in for the night. And the shades drawn. I’ll even put tacks on the stairs if you think I should.”

  “Merlin would love that,” Gertie said.

  “You’re right,” I said. “Scratch the tacks.”

  “What about nailing your windows shut?” Gertie asked.

  “They wouldn’t lift the window,” I said. “They’d cut the glass and crawl through.”

  “Which means you need to do a walk-around every time you leave the house and then again when you return,” Gertie said. “People could get to your backyard from the bayou and with all the bushes and trees, no one could see someone coming in a back window, even in the middle of the day.”

  “She’s right,” Ida Belle said. “And instead of someone in your kitchen drinking beer, they could just leave a bomb that goes off when you walk inside.”

  “I’m pretty sure if someone is in my backyard during the day, my industrious neighbor, Ronald, will see them,” I said. “He seems to spend a lot of time watching my lawn.”

  “Yeah, but would he call the cops if he sees someone breaking in?” Gertie asked.

  “Hmm. Probably not,” I said. “But at this point, there’s no reason to presume that anyone wants me dead. More likely, they want to know if I’m working with my father, because apparently, he has something they want. If I’m dead, I can’t give it to them.”

  “Okay, so kidnapping is more likely than death from a distance,” Ida Belle said. “So how do you plan on getting out of the house if someone comes inside in the middle of the night?”

  “Can’t come out the bedroom window,” Gertie said. “She could easily make the drop into the yard from the front porch roof but someone would be standing there waiting on her.”

  “There’s something upstairs I need to show you guys.” I felt something cold on my feet and looked down. “Gertie, you’re melting.”

  Ida Belle looked under the table and shook her head. “You’re going to need a Shop-Vac to clean this up. Maybe even a new kitchen floor.”