Together Again: Book 3 in the Second Chances series (Crimson Romance) (14 page)

Minutes later, two patrolmen arrived along with an ambulance. While the EMTs took Mr. Todd away on a stretcher, Tony was on the phone with Sam Richardson. After he finished the call, he joined the police officers in talking to the neighbors.

Restless and wanting to do anything other than just wait, Margo called Mr. Todd’s daughter to tell her what happened. After she hung up, she waited for the three cops to return.

But it was Sam and Tony who appeared at her front door. The two patrol officers had left with little to go on other than the information that neighbors had heard an outboard motor near the boat slip under her deck. No one had seen anything.

“Sam, why’re you here?” Margo asked when the two men came in the front door.

“Because I don’t believe in coincidences. Sit down. We need to talk.”

Oh, hell,
Margo thought.
There was that sentence again.

“Tony’s wasn’t the only call I got today regarding you, Ms. Keyes. Your office was ransacked. When my boss heard from your boss, he called me,” Sam said.

“Why’d they call you? And what’s that have to do with this? I can’t explain what happened in my office but why isn’t this just somebody looking for an easy target to rob?”

“Who happened to pick on your house out of all the houses here? You don’t have the most expensive looking house on the block and it’s not the first one you come to if you come in by water.”

“Okay, so what do you think it is?”

“I think — we think — someone is looking for something. Something he — she — believes you have. So, counselor, the question is what would that be?”

“What could I have? Depositions? Records of plea bargains? Even I wouldn’t break into anyone’s office for that shit. Besides, what have I been involved in recently that’s even vaguely interesting?”

Sam stared hard at her face, causing her to rub the whisker burns on her chin. Then he looked at Tony, who shrugged his shoulders with an “I tried my best” expression that bordered on a smirk.

“Oh, for God’s sake you two, I meant in my professional life.”

“Maybe you’ve been involved in something but don’t know it.” He turned to Tony again. “I was going over your files from the Jameson case yesterday. You remember the name of Frank Jameson’s new girlfriend?”

“Brandy something. Last name’s a president — Johnson? Ford?”

“The one in between. Nixon. Brandy Nixon. The woman we found dead in Forest Park in possession of Margo’s messenger bag. You flew to Philadelphia with Frank Jameson and from Seattle to Portland with his girlfriend, Margo.”

“Why would that coincidence be of interest to anyone?”

“Maybe someone doesn’t think it’s a coincidence. The other piece of information you need is that a man went out to the airport with Brandy Nixon’s employee ID and tried to retrieve her briefcase. I don’t know how he knew it was there — maybe she told him about the swap before she was killed — but the agent said he had a foreign accent, maybe Russian. He was told you had taken it to the police.”

“Doesn’t that look like I don’t know what’s in the bag?”

“I see what you’re getting at, Sam,” Tony said. “The feds think Jameson was trying to peddle Microsoft information. We didn’t find anything on him or in his briefcase. But what did you tell us you heard him say in the Portland airport, Margo?”

“If you don’t want it I know someone who does,” Margo replied.

“Which sounds like he was playing two people off against each other — maybe the competing Russians. He flies to Philly, meets with one guy, gets himself killed. Nixon gets the news, tries to do the deal herself. She flies to Portland. In both cases, you’re with them. Yes, you turned the bag into the airline, but you came and got it back.”

Sam continued, “You could have removed what you wanted before you handed it in to me. Whoever did Nixon had already been played. Not hard to see why they might think they were being played again.”

“Why do you think she was involved?” Margo asked. “I didn’t find anything in her messenger bag that looked like Microsoft information.”

“No, but, she did work with Jameson at Microsoft and, just before he moved in with her, quit her job. Told her friends she was about to be financially set for life. They thought she meant she and Jameson were getting married.”

“Did you empty the bag when you got it home?” Tony asked.

“Sure, once I saw it wasn’t mine, I looked for ID, went through it all. There was a wallet, some make-up, a cell phone, pens, breath mints, lint; the usual junk a woman carries around. No Microsoft documents.”

“I doubt it would be paper, Margo. More likely a disc, something like that.”

“We should find out what Jameson and Nixon were working on and some idea of what it would take to steal it. Might give us some idea what we’re looking for. We can talk about all this tomorrow, Tony. You staying here?”

Tony looked to Margo for the answer. “Yes,” she said, “he’s staying here with me.”

“Good. That’ll give you an extra layer of security. I have a patrol car swinging by here regularly and the Multnomah County Sheriff’s boat will be cruising the marina. Jeff’s got the courthouse on alert so I think we have you covered.”

“Like a blanket. All that makes me feel claustrophobic.”

“Get used to it, counselor. You’ve got a whole new set of best friends until we get this figured out. The chief doesn’t like Jeff’s deputies being harassed.”

• • •

After dinner, Tony volunteered to do the dishes while Margo checked in again with Mr. Todd’s daughter. She said her father was doing much better. He’d told the police that about the time he expected to see Margo and Tony return from the Gorge, he noticed a tall, dark-haired man jiggling the door at Margo’s house. Thinking it was Tony having trouble with the lock that he knew could be tricky, he went out to help. He immediately saw it was a teenaged stranger who managed to get the door jimmied just as Mr. Todd reached him.

Her neighbor started back for his own house to call the police, but the kid grabbed him and dragged him to the side walkway. He didn’t remember much after that.

He was being held overnight for observation but would probably be discharged the next day and would be at his daughter’s house for a couple days after that. Relieved that his injuries weren’t any more serious, Margo sent him her love and promised to visit him the next evening.

After the phone call, Margo settled on the couch. Rearranging pillows to make herself more comfortable, she knocked something from behind one onto the floor. When she picked it up, she didn’t recognize it.

“Tony, is this yours?” she asked, holding up a slim red flash drive.

“No, isn’t it yours?”

She shook her head.

Tony took it from her, turned it over in his hand a couple times. “When was the last time you cleaned?”

“Why are you interested in my housekeeping habits? Looking for a maid?”

There was no humor in his eyes.

“Okay, it was right before I went back to Philly.” She shrugged and half smiled. “I always leave the house clean in case I don’t come back and someone else has to pack it up.”

“Sounds like the Margo I know and love. And you said you emptied Nixon’s messenger bag out … did you do it in here?”

They looked at each other for a moment or two then Margo gestured to him to follow her to her office. She booted up her computer and they inserted the flash drive. On it were two files: one was labeled “Office Suite Beta Version” and the other “Body Bot Beta,” which appeared to be a body-sensitive game.

“Now we can deal,” Tony said. “All we have to do is find out who we’re dealing with.”

“Do you ever come up for air?” the tall, dark and familiar man standing in the door of her office asked.

“What time is it?” She’d been working so intently the afternoon had slid into evening and she hadn’t even noticed.

“It’s about seven-thirty.” Tony said. “I’m ready for dinner.”

She was just about to turn off her computer when she heard the “bing” that meant she had a new email message. Out of habit, she opened it. She didn’t find the run-of-the-mill business she expected.

“Tony, look at this.” She pointed to the computer screen.

The message was from someone named Viktor Smirnov. It said: “
You have something that belongs to me. I don’t care who you are, if you don’t return it, you will find yourself in the same place as your colleagues who attempted to play games with me
.”

“Looks like another Russian has come to the party,” Tony said.

“Or someone without imagination who wants us to think he’s Russian. A vodka brand as his alias? Really?” Margo said.

“Let’s see if he’s still there.” Tony typed a response. A reply came back. He typed again. Viktor answered.

“He says he knows you have the two programs your colleagues passed on to you before he took care of them for going back on their deal.” He typed again. “I’m asking what’s in it for you since whatever he gave to Jameson and Nixon didn’t include you. He offered fifty thousand dollars.”

“Hell, I’ll sell him Kiki for that.” She watched as Tony negotiated back and forth for several more messages. “What now?”

“We settled on $100,000 and I’m waiting for him to tell me what the terms are.”

The message that came back this time was longer than the others. There were a dozen conditions for the exchange of the material. The list began with a date a week away and a place. “No cops, no witnesses, no weapons” ended the list.

“You’re not meeting him alone,” Tony said as he responded.

“What if that’s the only way?”

“We’ll find some other way. You’re not meeting him alone.”

She decided not to argue with the tone of voice he was using and the set of his face.

Eventually, Tony negotiating as Margo got Viktor to agree she could bring her boyfriend with her to the Chinook picnic shelter in Blue Lake Park at 10
P.M.
in a week. When Tony asked where that was, Margo shuddered and told him it was about five minutes from her house. He didn’t say anything but put his arm around her and hugged her before he pulled out his cell phone and called Sam.

• • •

“Your eye candy’s here,” Kiki said, swinging on the doorjamb into Margo’s office.

“He’s here so we can drive home. And Kiki, I appreciate how gorgeous he is, but … ”

“Who’s gorgeous? You?” Tony materialized at the door. She had to agree with Kiki. He
was
eye candy. He’d swapped his gray suit and maroon tie for a version of Northwest business casual — jeans and a jacket with a white shirt and tie — which almost made him a match for Sam Richardson, who never wore anything but jeans although Tony hadn’t gone so far as to buy cowboy boots. Yet.

Kiki smiled. “
Buon giorno, detectivo
.”

“
Buon pomeriggio, Kiki. Come sieta
?”

“Sorry, haven’t gotten that far in my online Italian lessons.”

“I said good afternoon and asked how you are.”

“I’m fine,
grazie
. Maybe you have time today to help me with my Italian? The website I found doesn’t really tell you the good stuff. Like how to swear.”

“
Maledizione. Figlio di puttana. Merda. Vaffanculo
,” Margo said.

“What’s all that mean?” Kiki asked.

Tony started to answer but Margo interrupted. “Look it up on a translation website. Here, I’ll write them down for you.” She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote as she finished speaking. “But do the translating on your own time,
per favore.
On county time, I need those citations I asked for.
Andiamo
.”

“Who knew you could speak Italian, too? Must be trying to impress you, Tony.” Kiki patted him on the arm and disappeared in the general direction of her desk.

“So, you’re trying to impress me?” Tony asked.

“Do I have to,
detectivo
?”

“No, like I told Greer, you did that a long time ago,
avvocatessa
.”

“Good, because I have now exhausted all the Italian I can remember. Did you come to tell me you’re ready to go home?”

“After you do one thing. I’m flying to Long Beach tomorrow for a couple of days to coordinate with them. Sam wants you to call him before we leave tonight so he can talk to you about extra security precautions while you’re alone.”

“Now what?” She squinted at him for a moment with her mouth pursed. “All this babysitting gives me a headache. And claustrophobia.”

“He wants you to arm your security system for starters, even when you’re in the house. I didn’t know you had one.”

“I only set it when I’m going to be gone for a long time.”

“You didn’t set it when we left for our weekend in the Gorge.”

“I was distracted.” She hoped to waylay him with a reference to why she had been distracted. It didn’t work.

“He wants it on all the time.”

She sighed. “I’m getting tired of this, Tony, but okay, I’ll call and see what he wants.” Before he could say anything else she added, “And I’ll do what he asks.”

Tony left to get the car and, as she punched in Sam’s number, she heard Greer waylay him as he walked past her office, two doors away from Margo’s. He didn’t go in, only stood in the doorway so she heard some of the conversation. Greer appeared to ask him what he was up to in Portland, where he was staying, what he’d seen, where he’d been. That and a less-than-subtle attempt to find out what the relationship was between Margo and Tony.

Maybe Paul Dreier wasn’t as irresistible as he thought he was.

Sam gave her instructions about making sure someone knew where she was when she wasn’t at work and arming her security system. She “yes, Sam’d” him so much she was sure he was on the verge of doubting her sincerity.

He pointed out to her that Viktor’s insistence on meeting with her the following week, not any sooner, was odd at best, downright dangerous at worst. It gave Viktor too much time to cause trouble. She reluctantly agreed.

Although she didn’t tell him.

• • •

After dinner, Margo loaded the dishwasher while Tony packed for his trip to Long Beach. When he came back downstairs, he joined Margo on the couch. “I’ve been thinking,” he began. “I’ve liked living with you and I … ”