Holland thought Wyatt looked more tired after his night’s sleep than he had before they had parted. She was down to breakfast before him and actually called his room to see where he was. When he answered the phone, she had the feeling she had woken him.
‘You OK?’ she asked as he walked into the restaurant.
‘Yeah, fine,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘First time in a long time I overslept.’
‘Actually,’ she said sipping her coffee and smiling. ‘I’m happy to see it. Reassures me you’re human after all.’
She waited until he ordered and then asked, ‘Did you go right to bed?’ She wanted to see if he would mention coming into her room.
‘I intended to, but then I thought I should check on our car. Considering the reporter and that tracking device,’ he added.
‘And?’
‘Everything was fine.’
‘Was that the only area you checked out?’ she asked, expecting him to admit to entering her room, perhaps for that purpose.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We’ll see what turns up this morning,’ he added, displaying his watch.
‘Now that I think about it, Wyatt,’ she said, nodding at his watch, ‘I really don’t recall anything like that on the technical equipment report we just received and that report usually includes innovative equipment.’
‘All I know is I was asked to test it in the field,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry. You’re not being deliberately excluded from anything.’
‘I didn’t think I was. Look, as sensitive as I might seem to you, I’m…’
He put his hand up and reached for his pocket computer. ‘Incoming,’ he said and read. She saw from the way his mouth tightened that it was more unhappy news.
‘What?’
‘Robert J. Halogen was assassinated this morning—a poison dart.’
She sat back. ‘Poison dart? That’s original, but why kill him? It certainly puts a hole in the vengeful defendant’s family theory, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Yes, and then again it could be that someone totally unrelated to our case and situation had it in for Robert J. Halogen. He did do very sensitive work,’ Wyatt said.
‘That would be quite a coincidence. I thought you didn’t believe in those,’ she quickly said.
‘I believe in possibility, but not probability in this case,’ he replied.
‘So someone’s killed him to make sure we drop the vengeful defendant theory? Why then all that business about iodine? It’s as if someone is deliberately setting down confusion, making us go off on tangents, corrupting our investigation. In short, making us look like idiots, Wyatt.’
‘I don’t disagree, but what troubles me, I must admit, is if someone is after PJs, why only the ones on this case?’ he said.
‘We don’t know it’s only the ones on this case.’
He started to shake his head.
‘Maybe there are other teams out there investigating the same thing but in different parts of the country,’ she continued.
‘That wouldn’t make sense. We’d have to be informed to coordinate. We’ll inquire, of course, but if we haven’t been told about any, then I don’t think any have occurred.’
She remained skeptical.
He smiled. ‘What is it? Why don’t you think we’d be told? Don’t you agree that it wouldn’t make any sense, Holland?’
‘I don’t know if making sense in this investigation matters. I didn’t like the way it was set up in the first place. It’s all too unorthodox, especially for a company man like Landry Connors.’
‘Well…’
‘Something’s rotten in the state of Denmark,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Something doesn’t smell right, Wyatt. It’s just an instinctive feeling.’
He shrugged. ‘We can’t work on instincts, Holland. We’re not bloodhounds.’ He raised his hands quickly. ‘No disrespect for your father. I remember what you told me about his uncanny detective’s abilities. I don’t doubt he had some unique insight and deductive skills.’
‘Maybe I’ve inherited them,’ she suggested.
‘Maybe, but for now all we can do is plod on, following facts and information.’
‘What do you suggest next, Mr Know-it-all? The leads we’ve been given and the facts we’ve found are taking us through convolutions that feel more like twisted wires than anything. First, it’s a possible revenge action, then it’s possibly something more. Most important, we can’t ignore the fact that our cover has been blown open enough to get a major reporter inquiring. That troubles me almost as much as anything when you connect the dots…your being tracked. I’m not sure who to trust,’ she emphasized.
He nodded, slowly, thinking. ‘OK, let’s pay Pete Snyder’s friend, Allan Davis, another visit. Maybe we can stir up some memory and at the same time, find out if he spoke to anyone connected with the press.’
She watched him play with his pocket computer to come up with the information on Davis.
‘This is interesting,’ he said, still looking at the computer.
‘What?’
‘He works for a radio station. He’s a programmer. It’s off of Washington, in Culver City.’ He looked up. ‘So then maybe he did leak the murder of Snyder to a reporter, who then tracked him to the courthouse limousine job? He could have spoken with the security guards and found out about our inquiries.’
‘Makes sense, but how could he then jump to the conclusion that the juror is dead? We said nothing to the security guards that would indicate a felony, much less a murder.’
‘The driver was murdered, so maybe it was not that much of a jump. Maybe it was just a good reporter’s instinct,’ he said, smiling. ‘You put a lot of value on that for yourself. Why not a reporter?’
‘You’re such a wise ass, Wyatt. It still doesn’t explain how he knew the second murder was another Halogen murder.’
‘I know. I told Landry it looks like he has a mole.’
‘What did he say?’
‘That he’d investigate. What did you expect him to say?’ Wyatt asked.
She nodded, thoughtful.
‘Maybe Carter didn’t know it for sure and came here fishing to see our response,’ he suggested.
She looked away and then nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose that’s possible.’ She brightened. ‘So we don’t have to think in terms of conspiracies right off. It might all just be some smart reporter’s technique. This could all be less complicated than we imagine.’
‘Maybe,’ he said and he laughed.
‘What’s so funny now?’
‘I was just thinking how quickly you moved to a less threatening scenario.’
‘Is that right?’ Again, she didn’t like his condescending tone.
‘Women tend to be more gullible than men,’ he said.
‘Says who?’
‘Adam. Eve was the one who believed the snake and the snake knew she would, otherwise he would have gone to Adam first.’
She stared at him. He looked serious.
‘You believe in the Bible literally?’
‘I think there’s a lot to be learned about human nature from it. It’s all there in one tale or another.’
‘Maybe you’re the snake in this garden,’ she said. ‘Whispering crap in my ears.’
He laughed. ‘C’mon,’ he said, standing. ‘Let’s get going before Landry gets on our case.’
‘You really think he’s listening in, watching our every move?’ she asked, rising.
He looked around. ‘Someone is,’ he said. ‘Hence, that tracking device.’
‘So from that we’d have to conclude that Landry was pretending he didn’t know about it when you told him?’
‘This time I’ll have to admit your guess is as good as mine,’ he said. ‘I’ll give you that much when it comes to theorizing. For now.’
Less than a half hour later, they were at the radio station, which turned out to be as close to a hole in the wall as possible. It was in a small building on the back lot of a former television studio. It looked like every inch of space had been put to use inside. The outer office was tiny and just wide enough for the woman who was the secretary, receptionist and apparently, advertising sales manager. She was on the phone closing a sale when they entered. They waited. She held up her hand to indicate she would only be a moment.
Through the glass partition, they could see the disc jockey interviewing a buff-looking man in a thin T-shirt. He had a goatee and a bright gold earring. They could hear the interview over a speaker. The man was apparently a local chef discussing some new entrees he had created after traveling along the Amalfi coast in Italy. He was detailing how to make sea bass stuffed with crab.
‘Yes?’ the receptionist said as soon as she cradled the receiver.
‘We’re looking for Allan Davis.’
‘So are we,’ she retorted.
‘What does that mean?’ Holland asked.
‘He didn’t show up for work and he didn’t call in and my boss is pretty annoyed. My boss is the man interviewing our guest,’ she added, jerking her head toward the window. ‘This is a mom-and-pop operation and Allan happens to be his brother.’
‘I see,’ Wyatt said. ‘Well, we need to talk to him. He lives on…’ Wyatt glanced at his computer. ‘Doheny?’
‘Yes. What’s it about? I happened to be his cousin, Beverly.’
‘We’re not at liberty to say just yet,’ Holland replied.
‘What are you, bill collectors?’
‘No,’ Wyatt said, smiling.
‘Well, what’s the cloak and dagger for? Who are you? What do you want with Allan? Does it have anything to do with his work for the station?’
‘I’m Allen and this is Burns,’ Holland said, referring to George Burns and Gracie Allen. ‘It has nothing to do with the station. And we’re not bill collectors, but we are collectors.’
‘We collect information,’ Wyatt followed.
‘We work for the Universe Encyclopedia.’
‘We’re up to page 700,’ Wyatt added. ‘And that’s just up to the Ds.’
‘Can you imagine?’ Holland said. ‘Thanks.’
They turned and walked out, leaving the receptionist with her mouth open wide enough to see the gold molars.
Both let out their laughter when they got into the car.
‘See what I mean about gullibility?’ Wyatt said.
She started the engine and glanced at him. ‘You think she bought that?’
‘What, you don’t think it would take seven hundred encyclopedia pages to reach the Ds, do you?’
Holland laughed. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. He was like a hot bath: it took time to get into him.
They followed directions to Allan Davis’ apartment building on Doheny. The moment they drove up, they knew they were too late. Three Los Angeles police patrol cars and one unmarked vehicle were in front of the building. An ambulance was parked behind the third patrol car. A small group of tenants were gathered outside the main entrance, talking softly.
‘Our guy?’ Holland asked as she pulled into a parking spot.
Wyatt didn’t respond. He got out and she followed. They approached the small group of tenants.
‘What’s happening?’ Holland asked.
‘A tenant committed suicide,’ a gray-haired woman in a bathrobe whispered. ‘He was just discovered.’
‘Who?’ Wyatt asked.
They all looked at him suspiciously.
‘Mr Davis,’ she said. ‘He hung himself off a chandelier,’ she added, her eyes glittering with excitement and pleasure at being the one relating the details. She leaned toward them to add, ‘Probably over some broken romance.’ She glanced at the others and turned back to them. ‘With a man,’ she said.
‘You don’t know that to be a fact, Lana,’ a tall, lean man beside her muttered angrily. ‘It’s a little too soon to start the gossip, don’t you think? The man’s body’s still warm.’
‘Well, why do you think he did such a thing?’ she countered, angrily.
‘Could be money problems. Could be health issues. There are a number of reasons beside a broken heart, Lana,’ a shorter, baldheaded man said.
‘How was he discovered?’ Holland asked.
‘His apartment door was open and Mr Longchamp here happened to be walking by and gazed in and saw him dangling,’ Lana said, again eager to reveal information.
‘The door was open?’ Wyatt asked.
‘Just enough to look in,’ the short, baldheaded man replied. ‘I don’t go peeping into other people’s apartments, but I caught a glimpse and thought I was imagining it so I opened the door a bit more and saw him. I thought I’d drop dead on the spot myself.’
‘I would have,’ Lana said, nodding.
Holland and Wyatt went into the building. They showed their identification and spoke with the first police officer on the scene.
‘Was the door open?’ Holland asked.
‘That’s the way I found it.’
‘Sort of suggests the possibility of foul play, don’t you think? How could someone hang himself and unlock his door?’
‘Maybe it was unlocked or left open and he didn’t notice or maybe that was exactly what he wanted, to be discovered quickly. There are no signs in the apartment of foul play. Look how neat everything is. Nothing’s disturbed. Isn’t this out of your jurisdiction?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to determine,’ Holland said.
They watched the CSI unit take Davis down and then waited as they examined the body. Holland beckoned to one of them, a young woman with short black hair. She showed her identification.
‘How can I help you?’
‘Any immediate signs of foul play on the body, traumas?’
‘Nothing we found yet. We’ll need to wait for the autopsy, of course.’
‘Do you have a card? I’d like to check in with you later.’
The woman handed it to her.
‘Thanks.’
Holland looked at Wyatt.
‘I’d better tell Landry about this,’ he said and stepped away to use his cell phone.
Holland listened to the tenants talking about Davis, all of them saying nice things about him, how polite he was, how pleasant and how unexpected this was.
‘People put on one face when they greet other people and then take that face off like a mask when they’re alone,’ Longchamp said. Everyone nodded.
Holland moved toward Wyatt when he ended his call. She saw the troubled look on his face.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘The tracking device I found in my shoe. It makes sense now.’
‘Why?’
‘That security guard, Baker, the one who had the best description of the limousine driver…’
‘Dead?’
‘Police are calling it a carjacking.’
‘So two of the people we’ve interviewed so far…’
‘Are now dead,’ Wyatt said.
‘Someone is following in our footsteps, getting access to our information and eliminating our line of evidence and testimony.’
‘Maybe.’
‘What does Landry think?’
‘He’s now very worried that there could be a mole in our midst. He wants us to stand down for a while until he makes some changes. We could be signing someone else’s death warrant simply by interviewing him or her.’
‘Stand down and do what?’
Wyatt shrugged. ‘Wait for instructions.’
‘How long?’
‘He didn’t say, but I can’t imagine too long.’ He checked his watch. ‘We can go to lunch somewhere.’
Holland thought for a moment. All of the information was coming and going through Wyatt, not her.
‘I’d rather return to the hotel,’ she said. ‘Freshen up.’
‘Sure.’
On the way to the car, she saw him take another pill.
‘Call me in a couple of hours or when you hear something,’ Holland said when they entered the lobby.
‘Are you sure you don’t want any lunch?’
‘No, I’m fine for now. Thanks.’
‘I’ll be out on the patio if you change your mind,’ he told her.
She thanked him again and headed for the elevator as he headed toward the hotel’s outdoor café. When he was out of sight, she turned and went to the hotel payphones just off the lobby and called her father.
‘Well, this is a surprise. I thought you were away on an assignment.’
‘I am.’
‘Calling me from the field?’
She knew he would be worried about procedure.
‘I’m on a payphone, Dad.’
‘A payphone. That’s like driving a Model T. What’s wrong, Holland?’
‘I need a favor. It’s going to sound weird, but I don’t trust anyone at the moment, and I mean anyone.’
‘Sure,’ he said immediately becoming serious. ‘What do you need?’
‘I need to you to reach into your bag of favors owed you and see if you can find out anything about the agent I’m with.’
‘That Wyatt Ert?’
‘Yes, Dad. Supposedly, he attended Roc Shores.’
‘Roc Shores? What does that have to do with law enforcement?’
‘It’s what he told me. He is also supposedly an adopted child brought up in the Washington, DC area.’
Her father was quiet a moment. ‘Something smells wrong,’
‘But be careful, Dad. I don’t want you bringing any attention to either of us.’
‘You think you have to tell me that, Holland?’
‘No, it’s just something I do by reflex. You were the same, Dad.’
He laughed. ‘OK. Just call you on your cell phone?’
‘No,’ she said.
‘No? What’s really going on, Holland? What can you tell me?’
‘I don’t know. Someone has been tracking our investigation. We’ve been given false leads, false assumptions as well. People we speak to have a short life span. Whoever’s doing this practically knows when we’re going to the bathroom. I’ll call you tomorrow. As I said, I’m using a payphone now.’
‘You think your partner is dirty?’
‘I don’t know what to think at the moment, Dad.’
‘Does this guy have any idea that you might be checking up on him?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘May I make a suggestion?’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Don’t avoid him. Don’t let him think you’re worried about him. Men are suckers for women when they seem interested, pleasant. It’s an ego thing. He’ll let his guard down and you’ll learn more.’
‘I wouldn’t normally need that advice, Dad, but this guy’s different.’
‘Does he put his pants on one leg at a time?’
‘I haven’t watched him put his pants on Dad.’ After a pause she added, ‘Yet.’
Her father laughed. ‘Believe me, he does. I’ll see what I can find out.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Now I’ll be the one who is reflexive. Be careful, Holland.’
‘I will,’ she said. He was still her father; she was still his little girl.
After the call, she checked to see where Wyatt was and then she went up to their rooms, only she stopped at his door.
Two can play this game, she thought, taking out what the agency technicians called the metamorphosis key and inserting it into the lock on his door.
His room was very neat. Everything that had to be hung up was hung up, with shoes set perfectly parallel to each other beneath. He didn’t simply put his clothing in the drawers; he folded it all as well. She checked the bathroom and then she stood looking about for a moment before her gaze centered on a small black leather case near the phone. Opening it, she saw it contained a variety of small pills of all different colors and shapes, obviously what she had seen him taking. She plucked out one, closed the case and left the room.
Then she went back to the payphone and called her father.
‘Looks like I’m suddenly very popular,’ he said when he realized it was her.
‘I’m overnighting a pill to you. Take it to your people and get it analyzed for me.’
‘This will cost you,’ he said. ‘I want a real Thanksgiving this year.’
‘OK, OK,’ she said, laughing. Then she went to the concierge and arranged for the overnight.
After that, she considered her father’s initial advice and went to the café. For a moment she stood in the doorway looking out at Wyatt. He had his back to the door, but from his posture, he appeared quite relaxed.
‘I finally got hungry,’ she said, slipping into the seat next to him.
‘Great.’
‘I don’t know how you could eat so soon after seeing that man’s eyes bulging and his tongue so swollen.’
‘To be truthful,’ he said leaning over, ‘I haven’t eaten anything yet. I just had some coffee, but now that you’re here, I’ll order something.’
He signaled for the waitress and she brought menus.
‘I’ll just have an iced tea,’ Holland told her and looked at the menu. ‘The grilled eggplant sandwich sounds good to me.’
‘Does it? I’ve never had one. I guess I’ll try it,’ he said and folded the menu. ‘Are you a good cook?’ he asked.
‘I think I am. My father’s actually a pretty good cook. He makes a terrific meatloaf. My mother was too busy to be a homemaker. In the end I think she regretted it. She spent less time with us and there’s no better place to do things with family than at home, don’t you think?’
‘Sounds logical to me.’
‘Wasn’t that true for you? I mean, even with your adopted parents?’
He laughed. ‘I didn’t adopt them. They adopted me.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Yeah, sure. They were good to me.’
‘Why didn’t they have any children of their own?’
‘One of them couldn’t,’ he replied quickly. ‘I never asked which one.’
‘What about you?’ she asked him after the waitress brought her iced tea and took their food order.
‘What about me what?’
‘Are you a good cook?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You cook for yourself or what?’
‘Mostly “or what,’” he said.
‘So there’s really no significant other helping out in the kitchen?’
‘Not since I last looked,’ he replied.
She sipped her tea and peered at him over the glass. It’s like pulling teeth, she thought.
‘You do have a kitchen,’ she said dryly. ‘Don’t you?’
‘I’m not sure. There is a room with a refrigerator, stove and sink in it.’
She had to laugh. ‘Where do you call home these days, Wyatt?’
‘That’s classified,’ he said. She thought he was joking, but he didn’t smile.
‘You mean in case I get captured and they torture me to find out where you are?’
‘It’s in the manual,’ he replied.
She looked away, frustrated. A dead silence fell between them. She was grateful for the food being delivered.
He really enjoyed the sandwich she had recommended. She tried asking him innocuous questions, hoping they would lead to more involved answers, but he was even ambiguous about his favorite this or that. He seemed unsure about anything personal, and very careful about his responses. It was as if he were before a Congressional investigation.
He felt his phone vibrate and looked at it. ‘Just confirmed. Davis was definitely murdered. The suicidal self-hanging was a ruse.’
‘How do they know that so quickly?’
‘The break in his neck…different from the way his neck would break if it broke in a hanging. More like a professional neck-snapping.’
‘Something serious is going on around us,’ she said.
‘Yeah. You want anything else to eat?’ he asked her.
‘No. I could use a walk in fact,’ she said.
‘Hey,’ he said his eyes brightening, ‘how about we take a ride down to the beach? I like looking at the ocean and we can walk there. Unless you just want to return to your room to wait,’ he added quickly. He looked like he was afraid he had stepped over some invisible line.
‘Why not? I like looking at the ocean, too,’ she said. ‘After the things we’ve seen these past two days, it’ll be like giving our eyes a bath.’
Wyatt laughed and moved quickly to pay the bill as if he were afraid she would change her mind.
She smiled and shook her head. Sometimes, she thought, he’s truly like a little boy. What a complicated man.
If she thought that one more time, she’d break some sort of record for a recurrent thought, she decided, but her father’s question—did she think her partner was dirty—troubled her. It was truly like worrying about what was behind you as well as what was in front.
‘I’ll be right down,’ she said, heading for the elevator.
‘All right. I’ll wait in the lobby.’
She hurried away but didn’t go to the elevator. Instead, she dug into her purse and pulled up the CSI agent’s card. Then she flipped open her cell phone and called.
‘I understand you’ve determined Davis was a murder victim,’ she said after identifying herself. The CSI agent confirmed it. ‘Thank you,’ Holland said and stood thinking.
Maybe it was silly to check on what he had told her. Any good agent in the field knew that danger as well as paranoia drank eagerly from a pool of distrust. Mistakes were more easily made.
Still, she would keep her eyes wide open, even searching for unexpected shadows.