Mint Cookie Murder (16 page)

As Angela got up to go search, he leaned in close. "What was that all about?"

"Okay, I'll tell you. But first, about what Angela said…"

Rex held up a hand. "We'll talk about that later. Who's Bobb?"

I really, really wanted to tell him about how his friend was a lying, manipulative bitch, but we were running out of time. Angela was pointing to our table. She'd be back any second.

"That's the guy who broke into my house and tried to kidnap Philby." There wasn't any point in lying to Rex. He was a detective. If I didn't tell him, he'd figure it out.

"The assassin? That's him? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh right." I snorted. "I should've introduced him to the table as the man who might be trying to kill me and my cat. That would've gone over big."

Angela returned with the waiter, and he set the check on the table. I scooped it up. I felt a little responsible for the way things had played out here.

"I've got this." I said, handing it back to the waiter with my credit card and trying not to "accidentally" throw my knife at Rex's bimbo.

"I'm going to run Angela back to the hotel," Rex said. He didn't look happy. "I'll call you," he said to me.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Merry," Angela oozed.

"Nice meeting you too," I said but in no way meant.

I watched sadly as the two of them left the restaurant. While waiting for my receipt, I drank the rest of the wine. And not just mine. It helped. A little.

Riley texted minutes later. He'd lost Bobb and was coming back for me. I waited outside, and when Riley pulled up, I got into his SUV.

"What happened?" I asked.

"He raced a train and got across the tracks just before it blew through. He was long gone when the train had fully passed." He sounded as dejected as me.

"That sucks," I said.

"It really does." Riley answered as he drove us to my house.

"Suzanne is going to stay overnight. I didn't want to lead Bobb there. He already knows where you live," Riley said.

I nodded. "Fine." We pulled up into my garage and went inside. Riley swept the house, and I poured two glasses of wine.

"That was a strange dinner." Riley said when he'd joined me. He accepted the wine without question and drank half of it.

I didn't want to talk about Rex or Angela. Especially not with Riley.

"Why did Bobb come up to us like that?" I wondered. "Seems like if he wanted to kill us, he could've any number of times."

"It doesn't make sense," Riley agreed. "Bobb wants us to know he's here. Maybe he thinks intimidation will get us to hand Philby over?"

"Have you found any connection between him and Lenny Smith?" I asked. "There has to be something that ties this all together."

"I haven't found anything yet. But I was wondering if there's a connection to Midori."

I looked at him. "Midori?"

He shrugged. "We never found out why Midori was dead in your kitchen a few months ago."

"Lenny sold secrets. Maybe Bobb was the go-between?" I asked. "It's not a stretch to think the Japanese Yakuza would hire someone like Bobb. And Bobb knows who I am and where I live. Maybe he's just killing two birds with one stone by killing her and Lenny."

"What would the Yakuza want with Lenny? I could see the Japanese government going after technology intel, but the Yakuza?" Riley shook his head. "Besides, the Yakuza only hires Japanese hitmen. They wouldn't even think of hiring this guy."

"There has to be a connection between Bobb, Lenny, and Philby," I mused. "Lenny and the cat showed up at the same time. Bobb a few days later, looking for Philby."

"Bobb must've coordinated the prison break and framed you with the visitor's log and video. It's fairly easy to do."

I shrugged. "But why set me up? I didn't know Lenny or Bobb."

"Somehow, there is a connection to you. I just don't know why, or what it is." Riley drained his glass. "And I don't like it."

"Yeah," I snorted. "You and me both. You know—I thought retirement would be a lot quieter than this." I finished my glass and put both of them in the sink. I was a little tipsy and staggered a little.

Riley caught me in his arms. But instead of letting me go, he pulled me closer to him. I looked up at his face. I couldn't read it.

"I don't want anything to happen to you," he said before his lips came down onto mine.

I was going to reply that I didn't want anything to happen to me either, but I couldn't. Okay, I didn't want to. The room was spinning, and Riley's lips were so firm against mine that I pretty much stopped thinking altogether.

I kissed him back. It was so easy to give in. Riley's lips started a tingling in certain places, and I was lost in his touch. Oh, man!
This is what I've been missing!
I loved kissing Rex too, but Riley's kisses told me he wanted to take this to the next level…
now.
And my body was definitely responding to it. I needed a little attention, dammit!

Things were getting pretty hot and heavy. Hands were starting to roam and a little moaning was going on. It was so good that we nearly missed the muffled crack of a silenced rifle as a bullet whizzed past our heads.

Riley and I dropped to the floor and crawled to the other side of the breakfast bar. Five more shots rang out in quick succession. Bobb couldn't see us, so why was he still shooting? Everything this guy did didn't make sense. If he really wanted to kill us, why didn't he just do it at the restaurant? He was a terrible assassin. And this was in direct conflict with his record.

"It's coming from the backyard," Riley whispered, pulling his .45 from his waistband.

"I hear something else though." I held onto his arms so he couldn't run off. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the sound.

"He's laying covering fire!" I said. "He's chopping up the cement!" So Bobb was just shooting to keep us from coming outside to stop him from taking my fake dead cat's body.

Four more silenced shots plugged into the wall overhead. The bastard was seriously shooting up my kitchen. I was glad Philby was at the safe house.

"I'm going out through the front to loop around," Riley said. "You stay here."

"But I can help," I protested.

Riley responded by kissing me one more time. "I insist."

I watched in surprise as he snuck out of the kitchen. The door shut quietly behind him, and I wondered what I should do. My gun was downstairs in the basement, so I didn't really have time to retrieve it. Then I remembered that I had my throwing knives in the kitchen. It took only a second to reach up into the drawer and grab them.

Slowly, I crept out into the garage and cracked the door to the yard open a little. Bobb was there, in a hoodie. With one hand, he was firing the rifle into the house, while with the other hand he was hitting the concrete with a small sledgehammer. He looked ridiculous but was actually making a little headway.

And while I didn't mind his grave robbing that much since all that was there was an old blanket, I seriously took offense to the whole shooting of my house thing. I didn't see Riley yet, but he had to be there somewhere.

Should I wait for him to handle it? That really wasn't my style. I was just about to go through the side window when a shot rang out from the yard. I ran back to the door and flung it open, ready to throw a knife once I'd spotted the target.

Riley stood there in the center of the yard. Bobb was gone. But he'd left a puddle of blood on the cracked cement.

I walked over to join him just as Rex came tearing through my shrubs, gun drawn, holding his badge in the other hand. He stopped when he saw me and Riley. Riley reached down and mopped up the blood with a handkerchief as Rex ran over to me.

"Are you two alright?" he asked. He wasn't even out of breath.

I nodded. "Someone took shots at us."

"The assassin who interrupted dinner?" Rex asked. Actually, that would make a great title for a book.

The moon came out from behind a cloud and illuminated the three of us in a silver spotlight.

"I guess that's not all he interrupted," I said, as I pointed to the imprint of red lips on the collar of Rex's shirt.

We were drowned out by the sirens of what seemed to be the entire police department surrounding my house. Riley and I went in through the garage and let Rex in the front door.

Rex sent the patrol cars away and sat down with Riley and me in the living room. He ran his hands through his hair as if trying to figure out what to say. I wondered if he'd address the situation or the lipstick.

I decided to fill him in on what had been happening. It was long overdue. Riley ended the story by saying that the CIA was handling the investigation.

"I get that this is an agency issue…" Rex began. "But we can't have you breaking in wherever you want and holding shootouts in family neighborhoods and grocery stores."

Riley nodded. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

What? Riley was apologizing? And taking all the blame?

"I'm only going to let you have this one more time," Rex said. "I can report that a gun went off accidentally. But you'll have to promise me you won't fire that in public anymore."

"Absolutely," Riley swore.

"And next time your assassin shows up, let me know, and we'll bring him in," Rex insisted.

"You won't have to," Riley said. "Because he'll be in our custody or dead."

Rex narrowed his eyes. "Then do it outside city limits, because I don't want any more trouble."

The two men went a little cowboy, and I was fearing for a
High Noon
sort of standoff in the living room. Which was kind of sexy. But I was exhausted beyond words, and I wanted all drama gone. I wanted to go to bed and blot out the memories of Angela's betrayal at the restaurant, her lipstick on Rex's collar, and dumbasses shooting up my house.

"Knock it off, you two," I said, getting between them. "Rex, go home. I promise there won't be any more shooting tonight."

Rex gave me a pained look, but nodded. I waited until he was gone to talk to Riley.

"And you! How could you let him get away again? You seriously need some range time because your shots are way off."

Riley smiled. "What makes you think I let him get away?" He disappeared into the kitchen, and I followed him out to the backyard. Between the shed and hedges at the back corner of the yard, he dragged out our shooter's body. The hood still obscured the face.

"You got him? You got Bobb?" I stammered.

"Yup. I just didn't want the cops to have him." Riley knelt down and pulled the hood back, only to reveal a full ski mask.

I pulled the mask off and jumped backward. "Oh no!"

Riley stood up, frowning at the body. He shook his head as if it would change the circumstances.

"It's Angela!" I gasped. "You shot Angela!"

"Is she dead?" I asked as Kelly examined the woman on my kitchen floor. I'd called her, and she arrived in seconds. Whether she was still pissed at me or not didn't matter when there was someone bleeding on my kitchen floor.

"No. But I think she's in a coma. She really should go to the hospital."

"But Kelly! It's
Angela
! And she was
shooting
at us! And she tried to kidnap Philby!" I whined. "Maybe she'll die accidentally? Or maybe she's even brain dead?" A girl can hope.

Kelly shook her head. "I know you're thrilled with this outcome, but as a nurse, I feel she should get medical care, no matter who she is."

I stomped around my kitchen in full tantrum mode while Kelly probed the gunshot wound. Riley had hit her in the shoulder, but the bullet went straight through, weirdly hitting nothing. I figured Kelly would stitch up both holes and we could then have her…possibly for a human sacrifice.

"You're enjoying this." Kelly looked over her bifocals at me. She didn't need them but liked to use the glasses for needlework. I guess this qualified.

"Yes I am. You should've heard what that bitch said at dinner." I folded my arms across my chest like that actually proved something.

Riley was on the phone with Langley. He wanted to make sure the blood sample on his handkerchief would be compared to the blood sample in the grocery store.

"What did she say?" Kelly asked, pausing with her needle in midair.

I told her about the encounter in the bathroom, what she'd said at the table, and about the lipstick on Rex's collar. I'm not sure if it was my imagination or not, but it looked like Kelly was rather fiercely punching the needle through Angela's skin after that.

"Langley's sending a medical team from Chicago. They'll take her to a hospital under our control and analyze the sample," Riley said.

I was only half listening because I was taking pictures of Angela with my spy camera.

"Why don't you have a real camera?" Riley asked.

"I'll get one tomorrow." I said as I clicked the shutter a couple more times. "When will they be here?"

"In half an hour," he said.

I looked up. "It takes two and a half hours to get here from Chicago."

Kelly muttered, "Oh, so you
are
worried about her well-being?"

I shook my head. "No. I just hoped I could run out and pick up a camera and take some more pictures before they got here." I thought they'd make a nice 8x10 to shove under my cheating boyfriend's nose.

"They're flying," Riley said. "We'll have to take her to the airport."

"Well, can I pick up a camera along the way?" I asked, now using my cell phone to take selfies of me smiling next to comatose Angela.

"Stop that!" Kelly swatted me away.

"No. We have to go in 10 minutes. As soon as Kelly's done stitching her up."

I pouted. It's not every day that your nemesis turns out to be an assassin. You had to celebrate moments like this.

Kelly finished both stitches and helped us take Angela out to the garage to put in Riley's SUV. We drove to the airport, and Riley got us to the private hangars with his badge. A small private plane with two EMTs took Angela away.

"I don't remember those bruises on her face…" Kelly murmured.