Once Upon a Spy (Humorous Cozy Mystery) (14 page)

Kathleen paced her study. It was the first time Matt had ever been invited to her home. Usually they met in public places, but apparently this time she hadn’t had time to set up a more elaborate meeting place. Anyway, what with their latest meeting ending with a bang, she probably realized secrecy was a joke.

The house was grand, as he’d expected, but classic, which had surprised him. Kathleen Harridan’s office was sparse, her demeanor curt to the point of rudeness and her conversation to the point, so he’d expected her house to be equally spartan, both in design and decoration. In reality, it was decorated like a baroque mansion on the verge of the 20th century, with sumptuous carpets covering hardwood floors, velvet curtains covering the windows, and heavy oak paneling lining the walls. He detected several hunting prints.

He found the place so out of character that he’d even asked her if it was hers. As usual, she’d raised a finely penciled eyebrow, and had answered his question with a meaningful silence.

“He was in the hospital, after this morning’s attack, guarded round the clock by two of Chinn’s best men, but when Aaron and I went over there to ask him about the black box your agents retrieved from his house, and the missile strikes, we found his bed empty. The guards swear they never left the door. No one came in. No one went out. But Grant is gone.”

“It’s like one of those Agatha Christie novels,” murmured Matt, wondering how the hell Aaron Chinn fitted into the picture. He seemed to have a very close working relationship with Harridan, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“This is not a laughing matter, Matt,” growled Aaron, seated next to Matt in front of Kathleen’s desk.

“I’m not laughing. Do you see me laughing?”

“Stop it, you two. This is no time for your usual bullshit. You need to tell your people to track Grant ASAP, Matt. Do it now.”

“I would, but…” Matt gave her a comical look. “You know that Grant can’t be tracked with ASS, don’t you? We never managed to plug that hole.”

Kathleen gestured at Aaron. “That’s why you’re here. Give Matt all the assistance he needs. If the two of you work together, I’m sure you can figure something out.”

Matt eyed Aaron skeptically, and had the impression the other man felt exactly the same way about this cooperation. “I don’t know—”

“Oh, cut the crap, Matt,” exploded Kathleen. “This is bigger than all of us. If we don’t find Grant, we have to consider the fact he’s been kidnapped by the same people who’ve been trying to get their hands on the protocols.” She placed her hands on her desk and eyed them, grim-faced. “I don’t need to remind you of the kinds of secrets Oswin Grant has tucked away inside that brain of his? If our enemies build their own ASS and EYE, God help us all.”

The drive back to ASS headquarters only took Matt ten minutes, and he was glad Aaron kept his trap shut for the duration. The mere presence of the man in his car irked him, and he simply couldn’t imagine the two of them finding common ground, even with their respective projects facing the biggest threat in their existence.

Finally, they arrived, and Matt keyed them in. He led the other man straight to his office, and booted up his computer. Aaron brought out his laptop, and placed it on the desk. While the ASS symbol spun on Joe’s PC, the EYE logo appeared on Aaron’s.

“Ready?”

Aaron grunted, and cracked his knuckles. “Let’s do this.”

“First off, tell me why we can’t track Grant. I have a feeling you know more about this.”

“I do,” Aaron conceded. “As the original designer of the system, Oswin purposely kept himself out of the loop.”

Matt frowned. “You mean, he built a routine into ASS that would keep the software from tracking him.”

“Correct. Grant arranged for a loophole to be coded into the program that would allow him access at all time. He used this backdoor to remove any data about himself.”

Joe’s original suspicions against Grant suddenly returned to the fore. “Weird. Why would he do that unless he had something to hide?”

Aaron merely shrugged. “He wanted it that way, so we let him. After all, we needed the guy. It wasn’t as if we could deny him his privacy. However…” He cleared his throat and tapped a few keys, then turned his laptop to Matt. “Kathleen felt much the same way as you did, so she told us to work in a failsafe, in case anything happened to Grant. So we built a backdoor into the backdoor, and…” He pointed at the screen. “If you copy this bit of code into ASS, we should be able to track Grant’s whereabouts.”

Matt did as Aaron suggested, and after both men had entered their passkeys into the system, he was finally able to bring the elusive scientist’s data onto the screen.

The familiar tracking icon appeared, then the screen changed into a map, pinpointing their guy’s current location.

Both men squinted at the screen. Matt was the first to speak. “What the hell?”

Aaron turned to Matt, his face a mask of surprise. “What is Oswin Grant doing at Brian Wright’s house?”

Yvonne was walking the family lab Bruno, when the call came. Even though Bruno technically belonged to the whole family, for some reason she was the one who always ended up taking him out on his walks. Not that the other members of the Assenheimer brood didn’t love the old dog as much as she did, but her brothers always seemed to have better things to do in the evenings.

Bruno had finally done his business against one of the plane trees lining the street, when he phone rang. Expecting Izzy, she was surprised to read ‘Matt’ on the display. A slight tremor of excitement had her nerve endings in a twitter before she managed to clamp down on any anticipation she might harbor.

Perhaps he’d finally put down a time and place for that date he’d told her about?

“Matt?”

“Yvonne. I need you.”

Her heart made a little leap at this unexpected confession. “Oh?”

“Meet me at Grosvenor Street 26 ASAP.”

“Oh. All right. How do I dress?”

There was silence on the other end, and when Matt finally spoke, it was in clipped tones. “Full combat gear, if you have any, all black if you don’t. And call Izzy.”

“Izzy? She’s… joining us?”

But Matt had already disconnected.

Five minutes later, she and Izzy were on their way to the address indicated in Izzy’s mom’s tiny Toyota. Like Mrs. Superczyński always said, it wasn’t much, but it had wheels and got them from point A to point B.

Izzy was as surprised as she was about this turn of events. “You think Matt likes us both? Maybe he’s into kinky stuff?”

“I don’t think this is a date, Iz. I think it’s a mission. Who do we know on Grosvenor Avenue?”

Izzy shrugged. “No one. First time I’ve ever heard of it. I do hope they pay us overtime. I’d just curled up in front of the TV to watch some TiVo’d Bold and the Beautiful episodes.”

“Combat gear, Matt said. We really have to tell him we’re just two sanwomen, Iz. He seems to think we’re some sort of super soldiers.”

“We’ll be fine. Just see what the others do, and do the same. How hard can it be?”

“If there’s shooting, I want hazard pay.”

Izzy’s eyes widened. “Shooting? Do you think there’ll be shooting?”

“Iz. It’s a mission. There’s always shooting on a mission.”

Her friend shook her blond head, her expression dubious. “I don’t know about this, V. I’ve never fired a gun before.”

“Same here.”

Izzy heaved a deep sigh. “I’m beginning to have second thoughts about this ASS thing, V.”

Yvonne grinned. “
Now
you’re having second thoughts? What happened to ‘police work is the same as garbage work?’”

Izzy pursed her lips. “I may have exaggerated a little.”

They’d finally arrived at Grosvenor Avenue, and Yvonne scanned the houses for house numbers. They were nice big houses, in a remote part of town.

“Twenty—twenty-two—twenty-four…” She squinted at number twenty-six. It was a big villa, built in Tudor style, with a garage and a front yard. No other activity as far as she could tell.

“Where should I park?”

Yvonne searched around for the others. She didn’t see anyone. Weird. “Just park over there, between those two vans.”

Izzy carefully slipped her mini Toyota between the van and the bigger van, and the two women exited the car. They’d both dressed in black, like Matt had asked. Yvonne in black jeans, black sweater and black leather jacket, and Izzy in a very nice black skirt, with her best black jeans jacket over a black frilly blouse. She didn’t really look combat ready, Yvonne thought.

“How do I look?” Izzy twirled around.

“Um. Okay, I guess.”

“I hope Frank will be there. You think my ass looks fat in this skirt?”

“Honey, you couldn’t look fat in a potato bag.”

“Aww, that’s so nice of you to say.”

They both walked up the drive to number twenty-six, then dithered on the doorstep. Yvonne checked the name on the bell. Marshall Whethers. “You think we should ring the bell?”

“Nah. Let’s wait for the others to show up.”

“Oh, did I tell you about what Mom told me Matt told her about me?”

Izzy’s eyes widened, and her face lit up. “What did he tell? Tell me—tell me all!”

“He told my mother—my mother!—that he thought I was… Wait for it.” She made a little curtsy. “Beautiful.”

“He didn’t.”

“He did! And Mom invited him to come over any time he likes, and he said he would.”

Izzy squealed with excitement. “V! That’s so great!” She patted her friend’s arm excitedly. “I bet you’ll be hitched up before you know it.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

“Come on! First a date, now this. The man is definitely sweet on you, honey.”

“He is, isn’t he?” She sighed. In spite of her misgivings, she so wanted to hook up with the guy. Even if he was only interested in fondling her chest, like so many before him, she had a good mind to let him. Perhaps one thing would lead to another, and then…

“Yes? Hello? How can I help you?”

Yvonne and Izzy jumped back when the old man spoke. They hadn’t seen the door open.

“Um…” For a moment, Yvonne was speechless. The owner of Grosvenor Avenue twenty-six was balding, and looked not a day under eighty, but his eyes were sparkling, and he looked friendly enough. She wondered why he’d be of interest to Matt or the team. She decided to take a head-on approach. A little honesty always went a long way.

“Are you involved in any illegal activity, Mister, um, Whethers, sir?”

The man’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “Illegal activities? Oh, dear Lord, no. I wouldn’t dream of it. Why? Are you a police officer?”

Yvonne wished Matt had given them a badge of some kind. Didn’t agents always carry some form of identification? “That’s correct. I’m officer Smiley, and this is, erm—” She cocked an eye at Izzy.

“Officer Sweetie. We’re here about the complaint.”

“Complaint? What complaint would that be, officers?”

“The, erm, garbage complaint?”

Mr. Whethers, whose face had sported a confused look, now broke into a smile. “Oh, the garbage! Of course. Why, I only lodged the complaint this morning. This is really quick service. Come on in. I’ll show you.”

Yvonne and Izzy reluctantly followed the man inside. Before the door closed, Yvonne darted a look over her shoulder. Where was the back-up if you needed it?

Marshall Whethers led them down a neatly decorated hallway straight to the kitchen, then out the back door into a small garden. Flicking on the porch light, he pointed at a small garden shed at the bottom of the garden. “Over there. You see the problem?”

Yvonne stared at the garden house. It was a nice garden house, as garden houses go. Not too big, not too small. “Um…”

“Mh. I guess you can’t see in this light. Let me just…” He quickly retrieved a flashlight from the kitchen, and stepped out onto the terrace once again. “Please bear with me, officers. This will only take a moment.”

They followed the old man out back, exchanging puzzled glances. Whatever this was, it was getting mysteriouser and mysteriouser by the minute.

They’d finally arrived at the garden house, and when they turned the corner, they finally saw the problem. The backside had apparently suffered from some form of animal attack, for a sizable hole gaped in the wooden structure.

“Oh my.” It was the only comment Yvonne could come up with.

“I keep my garbage in here, you see,” the old man explained. “And this morning when I came to put the kitchen leftovers away, I saw the hole. Someone—or something—has completely destroyed my garden house. And stolen my garbage bags!”

Yvonne and Izzy stared at the hole. “Rats, you think?”

The man scratched his head. “You think rats could do this? But why would they steal my garbage? I mean, they took two bags! A brown one and a blue one. They’re simply gone.”

Izzy had her own opinion and she voiced it in a loud whisper. “Rats would nibble.”

“Huh? What’s that? I’m sorry. I don’t hear so well.”

Izzy cleared her throat. “Rats would nibble. They wouldn’t take off with the bags.”

“Right! That’s what I thought.”

The three of them stood staring at the hole, and Yvonne wondered not for the first time what was taking Matt and his team so long to arrive. It also occurred to her that as missions go, this was a very weird one.

“Let’s investigate,” she finally suggested, and took a peek inside the garden house. As long as they were out here, they might as well make the effort. And as she was leaning in to take a closer look, she noticed that the wood around the hole had been thoroughly charred. As if someone had burned a hole into the structure. Leaning in a little further, she then saw that inside the garden house, nothing remained.

“It’s empty. Your garden house is empty, Mr. Whethers.”

“It is. I don’t keep anything in there. I’m too old for gardening. I just hire a gardener these days. This place is just where I keep the trash.”

“Can I?” Yvonne held a hand out for the flashlight and when Marshall gave it to her, flicked it inside the structure. To her surprise, she saw that it wasn’t merely the edges of the hole that were charred. The inside of the garden house looked as if a bomb had gone off. She quickly walked round to the front of the structure, and stepped inside. Slowly, her gaze rose to the ceiling. Only it wasn’t there. She found her gaze traveling up and encountering the evening sky.