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Authors: Steve Martini

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BOOK: PMadriani 12.5 - The Second Man
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Chapter 15

H
ERMAN
AND
I
seem to skim up over the Grapevine, into the Tehachapis, and on toward the Central Valley. Herman has convinced me that taking I-­5 and cutting west near Bakersfield will save time. If speed is any indication, he is right. My gaze constantly checking on the rearview mirror, I set the cruise control at seventy-­five and settle in.

Comfort comes in the form of other cars passing us like shooting stars. It's the opposite of swimming with sharks. I don't have to be the slowest one on the road, just slower than you. Sure enough, a few miles on we pass one of these galactic starships. It is stopped at the side of the road, a black-­and-­white with its colored flashing strobes parked behind him, the cop at the driver's side window taking his pledge to help retire the state debt.

According to Herman, we are about an hour south of the turnoff, the connector to 101. He keeps checking the GPS on his spanking-­new cell phone. He tells me the cell signal keeps cutting in and out as we traverse the mountain pass. For the moment, he has three bars. “Where do you think they might be staying, assuming they're in the area?” Herman is talking about Joselyn and Akers.

I have grappled with the abstractions of whereabouts and well-­being, where she is, and whether she's all right. I have tried to corral any other anxieties. Call it denial, a defense mechanism. Any angst beyond the immediate will have to struggle for existence in that subterranean part of my brain where ancient reptilian roots have expelled reason. Even at my most paranoid, I have difficulty imagining Joselyn sleeping with him. I tell myself this. The question is do I believe it? I do my best. I try to soar above the yawning chasm of distrust, only to find myself sucked into downdrafts of doubt. The question is, do we ever really know anyone? We all like to think so. The raw nerve begins to throb.

“There's not much there,” says Herman.

For a second, I think he's reading my mind, until he says: “Not many places to stay until you go north to King City about a half hour farther up the road. Except there's one,” he says. “Place called the Hacienda. It has a historical note,” he tells me. Herman is reading to me off the 3G. Or is it four now? I can never keep it straight. He tells me he's getting a booming cell signal as we head down the long, steep ramp at the north end of the Grapevine, out of the foothills, and onto the Valley floor. Everything he reads is going in one ear and out the other, my mind wandering.

“According to this, it says it's located on the base, but it's open to the public.”

“What is?” I ask.

“The Hacienda. Haven't you been listening? You think I'm readin' this small print for my pleasure?” says Herman. “I'm gettin' a headache. Pay attention!”

“Sorry,” I tell him. “If you think they might be there, we should check it out.”

“If they're staying in the area near the reservation, I don't see a lot of other places they could be. Like I say, unless they went up to King City. It's possible, but I don't think they'd do that if they got business on the base. And this place, the Hacienda, it's not that expensive.”

“Is there a phone number?” I ask.

He squints at the screen on the phone and runs his finger up and down it, looking. “Yeah. Here it is. You want me to call 'em? See if they're checked in?”

“No, not yet. Let's get closer before we do it.”

“Why? You thinkin' they might rabbit?”

“Not them, him. If we talk to the desk, and they mention it to Akers, unless I miss my bet, he's gonna find some other place to take her, some other hot news flash for the foundation. Let's wait 'til we're on top of them.”

“I'm wondering,” he says. “Look at my phone.”

I glance over. “What about it?”

“I got five bars,” he says. “I can't get five bars in my apartment back in Diego.”

“So?”

“If I'm gettin' five bars, and if they're up this way, why can't we reach Joselyn or Akers on their cell phones?”

“Good question.”

“Unless they're turned off,” he says. He looks over at me. “You know what I'm getting at?”

“You're thinking maybe they don't want to be disturbed.”

“I don't know,” he says. “Far be it for me . . .”

“Maybe we're busting in on a love nest.” I take my eyes off the road to glance at him. I read his mind.

“Don't get angry. I don't want you to misunderstand what I'm sayin'.” Herman won't look me in the eye. He just keeps talking. “I know you and Joselyn been together a long time,” he says.

“It's an awkward situation for all of us,” I tell him. “You're afraid, and so is Harry. None of us can be sure how this is gonna end. If you say the wrong thing, question Joselyn's commitment, you're afraid you run the risk that if she and I get back together, you're on the outs. By the same token, you want me to know you've got my back. You don't have to say anything more. I understand. Stepping in front of me to take a bullet is one thing. Mopping up tears and dealing with a blubbering, heartbroken lover is beyond your call of duty.”

“Didn't say that.”

“You don't have to,” I tell him. “No need to be afraid. If it happens, we'll find a good bar and tie one on. Go on an Olympic-­class bender and leave Harry holding the bag of bones that was our practice.”

At least it is brave talk. I suppose we'll have to wait and see if it happens, and if so, whether it holds up.

 

Chapter 16

A
T THE
H
ACI
ENDA,
Akers decided not to park the Escalade in the lot out in front. Instead, he pulled across an unpaved area, drove between two old oak trees, circled around the tennis court, and brought the car to a stop in a cloud of dust in a ser­vice area behind the Hacienda.

Joselyn looked at him. “Why are we parking here?”

“Wouldn't do to have Henley see the car out in front when he comes back to his room tonight,” he told her. “He saw us get in and drive away, so he knows our car. He thinks we're moving on up the coast. He sees us here, booked in a room, he's gonna start asking questions again. Man's got a lot of curiosity,” said Akers.

“Why all the deception?” asked Joselyn.

“As I explained, if there was any brass around, we'd have to be careful. The only reason we're allowed in is because they think I'm still with DEVGRU.”

“I'm not comfortable with any of this,” she told him.

“You're the one who wanted to come.”

“To be candid, I'm not sure I would have had I known you were going to lie to everyone.”

“Why? Just because they don't know I've separated from the Navy? That's their problem.”

“It's more than that and you know it. Using a false ID, lying to the military about having lost it.”

“There's nothing false about the ID. It's mine,” he said. “Here, you want to see the picture on it, I'll show you.” He started to reach for his wallet.

“Don't bother. You know what I mean.”

“Come on, let's not sit here and argue.” Akers got out of the car and closed the door. He left Joselyn sitting in the passenger seat, fuming. Finally, she got out and followed him back toward the Hacienda.

“How long are we going to stay here?” she asked.

“Long as it takes,” said Akers. “Stick with me and we can probably get you some pictures of that bird out there. Just think, you bring those back to your precious foundation, they'll probably give you a big gold star.”

“And get indicted for espionage? No thanks,” she said. “I think I've seen all I need to see.”

“What about the radar? You wanted to find out about that.”

“If it's up inside under a dome, I'll never see it. And even if I did, I'd have no idea how it functions.”

“So you want to cut and run, is that it?”

“I need to get back to San Diego,” said Joselyn. The fact was that Akers's conduct had begun to unnerve her.

“Why, so you can go running back to Madriani?”

“What business is that of yours?”

“I just don't think you're ever gonna be happy there, that's all.”

“What would you know about it? You don't know me, and you don't know Paul.”

“If you were happy with him, why did you come with me? And don't tell me it was to go drone-­watching.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Paramount evasion of the insecure,” said Akers “is to answer a question with a question.”

To Joselyn, these words coming from Akers's mouth seemed out of character. It sounded more like something he might have picked up in a therapy session. She was starting to get a picture in her mind, and it wasn't pretty. Screaming in the night. The knife under the pillow. The abrupt fashion in which he pulled her away from the airfield the minute Henley mentioned rumors of a medical problem.

Inside the Hacienda, Akers handed her the room key and told her to go on ahead up to the room. He would join her in a minute. There was something he needed to take care of.

Joselyn turned and walked toward the stairs. She stopped a few feet away around a corner where he couldn't see her and listened as Akers talked to the clerk behind the desk. “I have a friend staying here. His name is Henley, can you tell me which room he's in?”

“Mr. Henley is in one of the arcade rooms,” said the clerk. “I'm sorry, but it's our policy not to give out room numbers. But you can reach him on the house phone in your room. Just give the operator his name.”

“Thanks.”

The words
house phone
hit Joselyn like a thunderbolt. She turned and ran quickly toward the stairs. She scrambled up them two at a time. Why, if he was trying to hide from the man, would he want Henley's room number? She made a mental note that Henley was staying in the arcade. This must have been the area Akers referred to as the colonnade, a long, covered walkway bordered by guest rooms on one side and open, mission-­style arches on the other. From what Joselyn had seen, there were two arcades, one in the back looking out on the gardens and the other facing the parking area out front.

She was breathless by the time she got to the room. She used the key, opened the door, and quickly closed it behind her. Then she ran to the phone. It was on a table in the living room. There might be extensions in the bedrooms, but she didn't have time to look. She picked up the receiver and pressed zero. The hotel operator came on the line.

“How can I help you?”

“How do I make a long-­distance call?”

“Would you like to bill it to your room?”

“Yes.”

“You can either dial it yourself or . . .”

There was a knock at the door.

“Never mind.” said Joselyn. “I'll place it later.” She hung up, then tried to collect herself, paused for a moment to catch her breath, then walked calmly toward the door and opened it.

Akers came in and closed it behind him.

“Did you get your business taken care of?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Didn't take long,” she said.

“I wanted to buy some gum, but they don't have any,” he told her.

“I think I have some in my purse. Would you like me to take a look?”

“Don't bother,” he told her. “The urge has passed. Maybe later.”

“So what do you want to do?” she asked.

“I'll give you three guesses,” he said. “The first two don't count.”

“I don't want to just sit around and waste the whole day,” she said.

“Sitting wasn't what I had in mind,” he said. “I thought we'd just stay here and relax.”

The gleam in his eye told her this was code for “let's stick around so I can jump your bones.” The thought of having to fight him off here in the tower, where no one could hear her if she yelled out, didn't seem a good tactical choice to Joselyn.

“So what you're saying is we can't finish what we came here to do until Henley leaves, is that it?”

“I can.” He winked at her, reached out, and put his hands around her waist. “But I don't know about you.”

“As far as I'm concerned, I've seen everything I came to see.”

She smiled, looked away as if she were embarrassed. She hoped it sold, that he didn't feel her trembling. “You did a great job. I got up close, took a good look. I mean, it's true I didn't get information on technical specs. But I never thought I would. The fact is, you've been a big help. We'll do it again sometime. I couldn't have gotten near it without you. You really are sweet. Some lady is very lucky to have you.”

The second she looked him in the eye, Joselyn knew it was one lie too many. He dropped his hand from her waist and stepped back. The smile faded from his lips.

“Calm down,” he told her. “You don't need to be scared. You think I'm gonna hurt you?”

“No!” Her voice went up three octaves. “That's not what I was thinking at all.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. It's just that I have things to take care of back at the office. I only took off two days. I know I should have told you. I thought we'd be going back tonight. If I don't show up for work in the morning, ­people at the foundation are going to wonder where I am.” Joselyn figured if he could lie, so could she. But he did it better, and they both knew it. She wanted desperately to get ahold of Paul. Tell him where she was and have him call the base so the MPs would come and get her.

“Why don't you call your office? Tell them you're gonna be another day or two,” said Akers.

“I thought about it, but my phone's not working. There's no signal.”

“Really?” Akers pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and looked at it. “You know, you're right. I'm not getting anything either. That's strange. The last time I was here, I had no problem at all. Maybe they're working on the towers. Why don't you just go ahead and use the landline?” He gestured toward the phone on the table.

“Maybe I will,” she said. “Later.” She sensed that any signal for help would set him off. “I was thinking maybe we could go over to the mission, so I could take my camera and get some pictures. You said earlier . . .”

“No. That's not possible,” he said. “Henley might see us driving around.” As he spoke, he was busy in the kitchen, pouring a bottle of sparkling water into two glasses. He turned and handed a glass to her. “Here; the water in this place tastes like crap,” said Akers.

The astringent soda water tasted good. It quenched her thirst.

“Maybe you're right,” she said. “But I don't really want to sit around here all day with nothing to do. Maybe we could take the car and head off base. If we're not here, he can't see us.”

“Where do you want go?”

“I don't know.” She certainly didn't want to go with him for a ride in the country. She was looking for anyplace where there were ­people, where she might lose herself in a crowd or find help. “I know,” she said. “Maybe we could go to San Simeon. See the castle. I've never been there. And it can't be that far.”

“You know, you're starting to sound like my wife.”

“How's that?” she said.

“Anything to get away from me.”

“No, that's not what I was thinking at all.”

“You look tired,” he said. “I think maybe you should go lie down. Take a nap.”

“I don't . . .”

“Do it anyway!” The way he said it, the tone in his voice and the look in his eye, made it clear this wasn't a suggestion.

“Maybe you're right.” Joselyn turned and picked up her overnight bag, which was still on the floor in the outer room. She thought for a moment, and said: “Do you mind if I check out the rooms?”

“Help yourself.”

She was trying to maintain civility, to keep it on a human plane, and if necessary, even to keep him interested. Anything to get away. Instinct told her that once things ruptured irredeemably, there was no telling what he might do.

She headed for one of the bedrooms. She stepped inside, looked around, saw what she wanted, then sat on the bed as if she were testing the mattress.

Akers glanced at her a ­couple of times through the open door, a sullen expression on his face.

She leaned toward the head of the bed and looked behind the door to see if there was a lock on the inside. There wasn't.

She crossed the living room and did a tour of the bedroom on the other side. It was the same. Both rooms had the same amenities. Neither one of them had a door that locked. But both of them had extension telephones on the bedside tables. Joselyn leaned through the open door of the second room, smiled broadly at Akers, and said: “I think I'll take this one if you don't mind.”

“Whatever.”

“Do you have a preference?” she asked.

“Would it matter?”

“Of course it would. If you prefer this room I'll take the other, it's fine.”

“You decide,” he said. “You seem to know everything else.”

The last thing she wanted to do was argue with him. His mood was impossible to gauge. One minute he was euphoric, hopelessly in love, the next he was petulant, irritable, and sulking.

“Later, I'll cook dinner if you like.”

“We'll see,” he said.

She stepped back inside and closed the bedroom door behind her.

She walked straight to the ladder-­back chair against the wall. It was solid oak and heavy. Joselyn carried it to the door, and, trying not to make a sound, she propped the back of the chair under the brass doorknob.

She stepped to the side of the bed and started to reach for the phone. Then she stopped and thought for a moment. Given his level of paranoia, Akers might be testing her, listening in on the phone in the other room.

Slowly, as if she was defusing a bomb, Joselyn carefully lifted the receiver, replacing its weight with her finger on the button in the center of the cradle. She held the button down, raised the receiver to her ear, then slowly lifted her finger as she listened. She strained to hear any sound of Akers breathing on the line. Instead, there was stone-­dead silence, nothing, no sound at all.

She reached down and pressed zero on the phone. The line was dead. She dropped the receiver on the bed and lifted the phone from the table. There, underneath it, lay the severed end of the telephone line. The tiny plastic jack in the back of the phone was missing.

Akers had cut the line and removed the jack so there was no way to fix it. Then she remembered. When they first arrived in the room he had tested both of the beds. When he finally came out, he was cleaning his nails with one of those small, folding, tactical knives, the kind with razor-­sharp blades and a box cutter.

Suddenly, she was exhausted. She couldn't keep her eyes open. The stress, the tension was catching up with her. Maybe if she relaxed, lay down for just a few minutes, she could think more clearly. She settled onto the bed and put her head down on the pillow. The next thing she knew she was out.

A
KERS FOLDE
D THE
knife and put it back in his pocket. He didn't bother to hide the severed wire from the phone in the living room. Instead, he just let it fall to the floor. He knew that by now she would have discovered the one in the bedroom.

BOOK: PMadriani 12.5 - The Second Man
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