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Authors: Sara Rosett

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BOOK: Getting Away Is Deadly
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“Of course.”

“Okay. That in itself should interest him. I’ll tell you the whole story tomorrow. And we still have to talk about Tony.”

“You’re mistaken about Tony,” Summer said flatly and then sighed. “But I can see that you’re beat. Anyway, I just got off the phone with one of my good friends. I’m on my way over to her place right after I pick up Chunky Monkey ice cream, a king-size Snickers, and some movies. Her boyfriend dumped her.”

“That’s terrible.” It was a great solution to my worries about Summer being alone. She’d be out of her apartment and her friend would keep her occupied. The Tony discussion would have to wait until tomorrow. Maybe by then I’d have figured out if he was really on our side or not.
Stop
, I reminded myself. I was leaving everything alone. No more involvement.

“She’s devastated. They’d been dating two years. So I’m out of here. I’ll probably stay overnight at her place.”

“Great. Call me tomorrow. And don’t talk to Tony. Or go near him.”

“Whatever you say,” Summer said in a humoring tone that I’d used with Livvy when she was getting cranky.

“Have you called Detective Brown?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said in the same patient tone. “He hasn’t called me back. Here’s Melanie’s number.” She handed me a slip of paper with a name and phone number. “I’ll have my cell phone, too, just in case. Now I’ve got to go check out with Ms. Archer, then I’m out of here.”

I walked with her back into the atrium and I had the strange feeling you get when you leave a movie theater. The fantasy is over and it’s back to reality. It seemed as if the intensity of the encounters with Tony and Lena had been a figment of my imagination. I also noticed that my shoes were pinching my toes, my calves ached, and my purse felt like it weighed twenty pounds. Now, if it had been the diaper bag, that would have been possible, but my tiny little clutch wouldn’t top out at more than five pounds. I braced my hand against the back of a nearby chair. I didn’t think I could walk around to the other side of the room again. It seemed as enormous as a football field and I didn’t want to make the trek.

I hid another yawn behind my hand. This was pathetic. It wasn’t even ten o’clock and I was yawning like a toddler. The buzz in the crowded room subsided as people moved around on the stage. Another presentation was about to begin.

I paused and watched Summer approach the Archers; then I scanned the room, looking for Mitch. He was still at the table where we’d had dinner. He saw me, said a few words to Jeff, and began working his way through the tables and people toward me.

Since he was on his way over here, I pulled out the chair and dropped into it, wiggled my feet out of my shoes, and let my gaze bob between Mitch’s progress and Summer’s interaction with the Archers.

I still couldn’t get over them as a couple. They didn’t go together at all. Vicki’s height, youth, and commanding presence contrasted with Alan’s squat, skinny form and shriveled face. I shook my head. He was barely taller than Summer and when he stood beside Vicki she looked like an Amazon. I just didn’t understand how some couples became couples. Summer finally got Vicki’s attention. Vicki’s stiff blond hair bobbed up and down as she nodded a few times and turned away, a dismissal. Summer said a few words to Mr. Archer and left.

Mitch finally reached me. “You look beat. Ready to go?”

“Yes.” I winced as I pushed my toes back into my shoes. Mitch noticed my expression and gave me a questioning look.

“I hate to admit it, but I’m going to have blisters tomorrow.”

He said, “We’ll get a taxi.”

That’s one reason I love him. He didn’t ask where I’d been or rub it in that I shouldn’t have worn new shoes. He took my hand, got us out of there, and into a taxi. I fell asleep on his shoulder on the ride back to the hotel.

 

Saturday

 

The next morning, I woke, taking in the sun pouring in the gap in the curtains, Mitch’s prone form beside me, and the time: nine-twenty. There was something I was supposed to do.

“Mitch.” I grabbed his bare shoulder. “You’re going to be late.”

There was an incoherent response from him as he rolled over.

“It’s after nine. What time did your class start today?”

“It’s Saturday. No class today,” he said, his arm circling my waist, pulling me close.

“Oh.” I fell back onto the pillow.

We stayed that way for a while and I thought Mitch had gone back to sleep, but then he said. “Room service for breakfast?”

“Sounds great.” I reran the events of last night in my mind and realized I hadn’t talked to anyone yet. My stomach clenched. Suddenly breakfast didn’t sound so good.

Mitch released me, found the phone, and ordered pancakes, fruit, and a “good morning basket,” whatever that was.

“Muffins,” he explained as he pulled me close again. I didn’t stop him from turning in an order for me. After last night, I knew I needed to eat and I was going to make myself do it, just like I was going to tell Mitch everything and make that call to Detective Brown. Right after breakfast.

“We should get up since you ordered breakfast,” I said without moving.

“Yep,” he agreed, but didn’t move.

I watched the dust motes float in the shaft of sunlight filtering through the edge of the curtains, felt his breath on my shoulder blade. “I’m getting as bad as Livvy about sleeping in the car. I can’t seem to stay awake after about nine-thirty, if you put me in a moving vehicle. It’s something about the sound of the tires and the engine. Mesmerizing.”

“I’ll have to remember that. Could come in handy someday.” Mitch shifted around, propped his head up on his hand, “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on anytime soon?”

Chapter Twenty-five
 

“I
’m busted, huh?”

“Totally busted,” he said. I tried to gauge his tone. He wasn’t angry, which was the reaction I’d expected and dreaded. He sounded curious. Of course, once he knew everything he might be mad, but I decided it would be better to tell him now when he was interested and neither one of us was about to fly off to class or a tour. “How do you know something’s up?”

“Because, my dear, you’ve had that same look on your face for the last couple of days that you get when you’re organizing a closet or a room and things aren’t working out like you’ve envisioned them. You’re puzzled that everything doesn’t fit and you’re determined to make it work.”

Did this man know me or what? Here I was thinking he was completely oblivious of everything that was going on and the whole time he’d been aware of my preoccupation. In the future, I had to remember he was much more perceptive than I gave him credit for.

I squirmed away a few inches. His undivided gaze was pretty intense. “Okay. Here’s the deal. I hate not telling you everything, but we’ve both been so busy. And I couldn’t just throw it out there when you were shaving and on your way to class. This hasn’t really been a vacation for either one of us, you know?”

“I know. I had no idea I’d be in class every day, all day, and then have a project on top of that. It used to be a pretty relaxed course. At least, that’s what Tommy told me. He did it a few years ago.”

“Well, things change. It’s still been great getting away just the two of us, but I’ve found out some things,” I paused, trying to decide where to start.

Mitch groaned and rolled away from me, onto his back, but he wasn’t upset. His tone was still teasing as he said, “You’ve found out some things! How do you do this?”

I shifted onto my elbow. “I don’t mean to. It just…happens. I see things, hear things, and put them together.”

I went back to Nadia’s photo and described how oddly Irene had acted. I glossed over why she’d been acting strange by saying it was “female stuff,” and he held up a hand. “Don’t want to know.”

“Good, because I wasn’t going to tell you. It’s private.” I went on to describe Wellesley’s side business. His good humor melted a bit there and he said, “Ellie, why are you so focused on this? Why not let the police do their job?”

“Because back at the beginning of the week, they were focused on Summer. They still are, actually. They think she’s guilty.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but I cut him off. “Detective Brown thinks I helped her get rid of Jorge.”

He studied my face, then said, “Go on.”

After I told him about Summer’s inquiries into a restraining order, he ran his hand over his forehead, then rubbed his eyes. “She didn’t want to tell me about it?”

“No, she didn’t. And earlier, I promised her I wouldn’t, but, well, I told her I was going to tell you. I think you should know. Things have gotten too complicated, too dangerous.”

“What else?”

“She found out Jorge’s address and we went by his house and talked to his neighbor.” I left out how we’d gotten the address. “Then she pulled her disappearing act.”

By now Mitch was sitting up, his back braced against the headboard, and I’d shifted around so that my head was at the foot of the bed and my feet were on my pillow. Mitch tossed me a pillow and I tucked it under my head. “The neighbor?” He pulled my foot over and began to rub it.

“No. Summer. That feels good. I promise I’m not ever breaking in new shoes at a fund-raising dinner again.” His hands stopped moving and I explained the mail Summer had taken and how she’d traced it to Lena Stallings. “So she took a shuttle to the airport and flew down to Georgia.”

Mitch closed his eyes, but he was rubbing my foot again, which I took to be a good sign. “Figures. That is just like her.”

I hurried on. “I didn’t want to call the police because it would make her look guilty, leaving town like that. So even though I knew she was okay and on her way back—she didn’t find Lena—I still had to wait until she was back before I called Detective Brown.”

“So you’re going to call Detective Brown?”

“Yes. As soon as we eat and I finish telling you what happened last night.”

“There’s more?”

I shrugged. “A little.” I described my encounters with Tony and Lena. He didn’t really pay close attention to the part about Lena. He kind of got stuck on the part about Tony. He dropped my foot and got off the bed.

“His name is Tony? Tony what?” He was tossing clothes around the room.

“Tony Zobart, but, Mitch, I’m okay and I’m going to tell Detective Brown everything.”

He ignored me as he slid open the closet door. It banged against the frame and I got out of bed, too. I wasn’t sure what Mitch was going to do. He pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, then dropped back onto the bed as he dialed.

“Operator thirty-one, good morning.”

I sat back down on the bed. He was talking to a military base operator. I didn’t know which base, but I figured it was good that he was on the phone instead of running out the door to attack Tony. He asked to be patched through to a number I didn’t recognize.

There was a knock on the door and Mitch looked at me. “It’s room service.”

I’d forgotten about our breakfast. I threw on my robe and got the door. I rushed the man in. “Anywhere. Here, let me sign that,” I said and practically shoved him out the door.

I hurried and sat back down on the bed. Mitch had settled back against the headboard again. He tilted the phone away from his mouth and said to me, “I’m on hold.”

“For who?” I asked, but he snapped the phone back to his ear.

“Great…okay. Thanks.” Some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. He glanced at me as he spoke into the phone. “Yeah. I’ll try. You know how that goes.” He closed the phone. “Thistlewait says hello.”

“You called Thistlewait? On a Saturday?”

“He was working. Tony’s legit. Let’s have breakfast.”

“Wait. Tony’s really FBI? Thistlewait can check him out? That fast?” I had too many questions and Mitch was acting way too relaxed for me. Shouldn’t he still be upset?

He threw on a T-shirt and tossed his phone on the dresser. “Let’s eat. Yes, Thistlewait was able to verify that Tony’s with the FBI.”

“And you’re not upset about…everything?”

Mitch removed the covers from the plates, pushed on my shoulder so that I sat in one of the chairs, and waved a basket under my nose. “Muffin?”

I shook my head and opted for orange juice. Maybe I needed sugar. Maybe I was hallucinating. Mitch plucked a blueberry muffin from the basket. He picked up his knife, slit the muffin, and buttered it. “Ellie, you got in the middle of an undercover investigation. What Tony did—well, I can’t blame him. He had to do something fast before you gave away any more information.”

I sat up straight. “He didn’t have to drag me into a closet.”

“Where else could he have gotten you alone, convinced you that he wasn’t a terrorist, and gotten the memory chip back without anyone else seeing?”

I cut into my pancakes and reluctantly said, “Okay. You’ve got a point.”

Mitch said, “I think the best thing for us to do today is check in with Summer. I’ll make sure she’s still with her friend and then we lay low.”

“What about MacInally? We’re supposed to meet him at the museum.” I had to call Debbie this afternoon, too, and tell her something. I’d put off calling her until I talked to MacInally one last time. At least, that was the excuse I was using to justify not calling her. I dreaded that conversation because I knew she wanted the truth and, deep down, I knew I was going to tell her the truth. As painful as it would be, that’s what she’d want.

Mitch chewed thoughtfully. “Do you think he’s involved?”

I thought about it as I swirled more butter onto my pancakes. “I don’t see how he could be. He wasn’t on the platform when Jorge was pushed. He was in the hospital. He does know Lena and she’s mixed up in this somehow. Although they just don’t seem to go together, as a couple, you know? And, speaking of that, did you see Alan and Vicki Archer? There’s a mismatch, if I ever saw one.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because she’s young and attractive and he’s old and shrunken,” I said.

“He must have that Henry Kissinger thing going for him. Power.”

“He’s barely taller than Summer.” I shook my head. “There’s no accounting for taste, is there?”

“Nope. Tell me about Lena. What did she say?”

“She said the check she sent to Jorge was a loan to start a business. She let it slip that Jorge talked her into blackmailing someone. I think it was Alan Archer. He
is
powerful. He’s on the base closure commission and Lena wants to guarantee that Taylor Air Force Base isn’t closed. She also said that one of Jorge’s friends worked for Vicki Archer.”

“That would be Tony. Okay, so Jorge goes down there with the intention of connecting with Lena so that he can get something on Alan Archer?”

“Yes, Tony said he sent Jorge to Georgia, but Jorge got too close to ‘her.’ He had to be talking about Lena. At first, I thought that Tony killed Jorge. Apparently, there was a bit of a power struggle going on between Jorge and Tony. Lena thinks that’s what happened.”

Mitch positioned a bowl of chopped fruit between our plates so we could share. He speared a chunk of watermelon. “But we know that Tony’s a good guy. He wouldn’t kill Jorge.”

I poked at some cantaloupe. “Unless he had to?” Mitch and I looked at each other for a few moments.

“It’s possible,” Mitch finally said.

I bit into the juicy fruit and chewed thoughtfully. After I swallowed, I said, “I can’t really see him letting Summer take the heat of an investigation, though. There’s something there between them. I think he really likes her. And I
know
she likes him.”

Mitch laughed. “That’s all we need. Federal law enforcement in the family. We’ve already got enough contact with the police.”

I ignored that comment. “Back to Lena. We still don’t know what Lena used to blackmail Archer.”

“What if it wasn’t Archer who was blackmailed?” Mitch said.

“Okay, who else? Ms. Archer? Vicki Archer doesn’t have anything that Lena wants,” I said.

“That we know about,” Mitch countered, “but all right. Say it was Alan Archer. What have they got in common?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it really doesn’t matter why she blackmailed him or what she used. It only matters that she did.” I ate the last strawberry. It was almost time to call Detective Brown. I swallowed hard. “I feel kind of bad for MacInally. I think he really likes Lena.”

Mitch said, “You know I talked to him some more last night while you were having your closet conversation with Tony. You said you didn’t think Lena and MacInally went together?”

“No. There were tons of mismatches on display last night. He’s open and honest. She’s cunning. I get the feeling that she’s looking out for herself first.”

“Well, he’s known her a long time, since Korea. He’s got to know what she’s like.”

I paused with my glass of orange juice poised in midair. “Since Korea?”

“He told me she was his nurse in Korea.”


In
Korea?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I put my glass down and leaned back in the chair. “I had the impression she met him after he came back to the States. I know Summer said something about Lena being a nurse in Vietnam. Could she have been in both Korea and Vietnam?”

“It’s possible, I guess. I don’t know much about how they assigned nurses back then.” Mitch put the covers back on our empty plates and moved them to the tray. “When are you going to call Detective Brown?”

I was still stuck on the discrepancy between what Lena had told me and what MacInally had told Mitch. I trusted MacInally more than Lena, so I had a feeling that his version was what had actually happened.

I pulled myself back to the present when I realized what Mitch had asked. “What? Oh, that’s right. Detective Brown.” I stood up. “I’ll call him after I shower.” I grabbed a green cotton shirt and denim capri pants.

 

An Everything In Its Place Tip for an Organized Trip

 

Travel with kids

  • A great way to generate excitement about the trip for your kids is to let them get involved in trip planning. Help them contact the visitors center or chamber of commerce at your vacation destination a few weeks before departure to request brochures and maps.
  • If you’re flying, don’t forget to carry on an over-the-counter decongestant. Check your pharmacy section for medicine strips that dissolve in the mouth. They’re lightweight and not as messy as a liquid medicine.
  • For entertainment for kids, go beyond electronic handheld games and include dot-to-dot books, a notepad and colored pencils, and books geared to their age.
  • A map and highlighter will let your kids track your progress across the country.
  • Don’t forget that special blanket or stuffed animal.
  • A night-light always comes in handy and can help kids feel more comfortable in unfamiliar surroundings.
BOOK: Getting Away Is Deadly
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