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TOBIN AND JAZ RENTED a car in Germantown, and they drove through the night to reach their destination, stopping only to gas up, use the restrooms, switch drivers, and grab to-go food on the sixteen-hour trip. They used a credit card Jaz pulled from her pocket for all their expenses, a card under the name of Gretchen Sønntag.
“Who’s Gretchen Sønntag?” Tobin demanded.
“Someone I invented. Not to worry—there’s real money behind that card. More importantly, neither Wolfe nor the Ukrainian mob have ever heard of her.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so.”
Dawn was breaking over the water when they drove onto the causeway that spanned Lake Pontchartrain. Tobin yawned and nudged Jaz awake. “We’re here, more or less. We should check into a hotel.”
She sat up and looked around. “Agreed. I could use a hot shower.”
They paid for two adjoining rooms, showered, and changed into fresh clothes. When Tobin knocked on Jaz’s door, she was on her laptop, plugged into the hotel’s broadband service.
“What are you doing?”
“Pinging someone’s cell phone. We’ll grab something to eat, then make a house call.”
“Room service?”
“That would be best . . . in case Director Wolfe already has a team scouting the city.”
“Speaking of Director Wolfe and a team looking for us . . . your appearance presents quite a memorable profile.”
Jaz mumbled, “Don’t fret. Got it covered.”
Tobin ordered a pot of coffee and enough food for three people. While they ate, Jaz explained their next moves.
Tobin frowned. “But how did you know—”
“You think I’ve been sitting on my hands for a week? The phones and email accounts at Broadsword aren’t the only ones I’ve tapped. I’ve been monitoring the communications of everyone connected to Bella.”
Tobin didn’t know whether to be appalled or impressed. He went with impressed. “I like the way you think, Jaz—although it fits a criminal’s profile better than a legit government employee.
“I’m accustomed to coloring outside the lines.” She swallowed the last of her coffee. “Gimme five minutes. Then let’s roll.”
Tobin wasn’t surprised when a complete stranger emerged from the bathroom, covered from head to toe. He was stunned. “What in the bloody blue blazes . . .”
“Like you said, my normal appearance is memorable. In this, no one will see the real me. They’ll be too busy ogling the hijab.”
“But . . . where in the world did you find this getup?”
“I flew from Vancouver to DC under this cover. I’ve had the tunic and headscarf in my go bag since we moved into the apartments, and we all grabbed our bags the night the Ukrainians attacked us.”
“Then why the stop at our old apartments? I thought Wolfe’s cleaners had removed all our personal stuff.”
“They didn’t know to look under the carpet in the bedroom closet.” She winked as she offered him a Canadian passport. “Meet Fawzia Niazi.”
RUTH GRAFF STUDIED her reflection in the mirror of her hotel bathroom. You look tired, Ruth. Tired, old, and worn out.
“Who are you kidding?” she told her image. “You are tired, old, and worn out. And hurting.”
She’d wept when Kari phoned her with the news. She’d wept for everything Laynie had fought to overcome, for the hope of a future without guilt and shame. She’d wept for her dear friend Kari . . . and, having gotten to know Laynie, she wept for her own loss.
“You’ve seen and heard too much pain and sorrow in your line of work, Ruth, old girl. And the hits just never seem to stop coming.”
Sighing, she left the bathroom, pulled on her coat, and picked up her handbag. “Lord, I just didn’t expect Laynie’s story to end this way, y’know? Yes, I’m so very glad that she gave her heart to you before . . . before she met you in person, but I had hopes she’d find some love and happiness in this life first.”
She grabbed her room key and dropped it in her purse. “Who am I kidding? Like any of that matters to her now, right?”
Ruth smiled a little. “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him. At this very moment? Laynie wouldn’t trade a moment in the glory of your presence for this wretched place. We’re the ones wishing for more time with her. Guess we’ll have to be patient until it’s our turn.”
She closed her hotel door behind her and headed for the elevators, preoccupied with thoughts of the luncheon Kari was hosting at a local restaurant. Kari had reserved a small, private room for the lunch, leaving Shannon and Robbie at her New Orleans’ home with her housekeeper, Azalea Bodeen. After lunch, the family plus Ruth would discuss and finalize the details of Laynie’s memorial service.
“We consider you family, Ruth. You were Laynie’s friend and confidant. She trusted you, and we want you with us,” Kari had insisted.
The elevator doors slid open, and Ruth stepped into the car—but before she realized what was happening, an individual darted from the vending machine niche into the elevator with her. The woman dropped a bucket filled with ice cubes between the doors. The bucket kept the doors from closing.
Kept the elevator right where it was.
The Muslim woman rounded on her, and Ruth drew back. “What are you doing? What do you want?”
“It’s okay, Ruth. You know me. When you went to DC to counsel Bella, I . . . I checked your hotel suite for bugs and found some—remember now?”
Ruth’s eyes widened. “No!”
The woman loosened her scarf. She reached her hand in, close to her ear, and pulled out a strand of black hair. Black hair tipped in fluorescent purple.
And Ruth caught the faint but distinctive scent of licorice gum.
“You!”
“Shhh.” Jaz tucked her hair in and tugged the scarf back into place.
“What are you doing here?”
“We need your help.”
“You and who else?”
“Marshal Tobin and I.”
Ruth’s reaction swung from alarmed to confused. “Kari told me that I was the only non-family member allowed to attend the service. That Director Wolfe wouldn’t let any of you come. Secret stuff about Laynie’s enemies and danger.”
“We’re not here to attend Bella’s funeral tomorrow, Ruth. The thing is? We’re not convinced that the body they shipped back here is hers.”
“What?”
“I need you to arrange for a meeting between us and Bella’s sister. We’ll explain then.”
“I don’t think so. Your interruption will only cause Kari more grief, Jaz.”
“I’m asking you to set up this meeting with Kari. Please. If nothing else, let her decide for herself.”
Something else occurred to Ruth. “Wait a minute. How did you know where to find me?”
“Duh. I’m a cyber spy, remember? I pinged your phone. Once I had triangulated your general location, I located the three hotels within range of the cell towers, hacked their reservation systems, and found you here.”
Ruth muttered, “Why doesn’t that make me feel better?”
“Please, Ruth. We need to speak to Kari, and it needs to be today.”
“What—so you can tell her you’re ‘not convinced’ Laynie is dead? Why would you announce a false hope to her family the day before they bury her?”
“Because if Bella isn’t dead, she’s in the hands of the enemy. And if the enemy has her? Then we’re leaving her there, and there’s no telling what classified information they are extracting from her—or what they are doing to her to extract it.”
Ruth jerked back. Stunned. Aghast.
Jaz pressed her point. “We have come up with a relatively quick method of determining whether the body is Bella’s or not. Kari has the authority and means to make it happen. Together, we can find the truth. And whichever way it turns out? We won’t spend the rest of our lives wondering. That’s the bottom line, Ruth. Tobin and I need to know, and Bella’s sister deserves to know.”
Ruth sighed and turned inward. Lord? What would you have me do here? I don’t want to be the cause of more pain . . .
She imagined herself introducing Jaz and Tobin to Kari and Søren and the consternation that would follow. Then she heard Jaz’s words in her head. “Because if Bella isn’t dead, then she’s in the hands of the enemy. And if the enemy has her? Then we’re leaving her there, and there’s no telling what classified information they are extracting from her—or what they are doing to her to extract it.”
Ruth studied Jaz before speaking again. “You said you had a method of determining whether the body was Bella’s or not. Then you said Kari has the authority and means to make it happen. What ‘means’ are you referring to?”
“I heard that Kari is wealthy. We’ll need an experienced pathologist with the right instruments to make the examination. It takes a hefty chunk of change to motivate someone to drop what they’re doing and examine a body on our timetable.”
Jaz wasn’t accustomed to pleading, but she did now. “Please. Give us an opportunity to speak to Kari.”
Ruth gave in. “All right. I’ll provide the introduction. As upsetting as your visit will be, I know Kari. She’s never been one to tolerate uncertainty. The moment you introduce doubt into the equation, she’ll shift to your point of view.”
She snorted a small laugh. “And as I’m on my way to her now, I suppose you two can tag along.”
“Knew I could count on you, Ruth.” Jaz nudged the bucket of ice out of the elevator doorway into the hall. “Let’s go.”
Ruth shook her head and muttered to herself, “Well, shoot. Not the first funeral in this family I’ve disrupted.”
RUTH REHEARSED HER lines as she drove toward the restaurant. A glance in the mirror told her Tobin and Jaz’s rental was right behind her.
Lord, this is crazy, isn’t it? So please. Please don’t let me hurt Kari or her family any more than they are already hurting.
They arrived at the restaurant. Ruth inquired at the hostess station and was shown to the small private dining room where Kari, Søren, Max, and Laynie’s parents, Gene and Polly, would be waiting.
Ruth halted a couple feet from the room. “Wait here,” she told Jaz and Tobin.
She opened the door and went into the room. Søren, Kari, and Max stood and came forward to greet her.
Kari hugged Ruth. “It’s so good to see you, Ruth. Thank you for coming.”
Søren hugged her, too. Max—who’d met Ruth on only two occasions—offered his hand.
“Look how tall you’ve grown, Max!” Ruth marveled.
Kari took Ruth’s arm. “Pretty much what everyone says to him these days. Come sit down, Ruth. Lunch will be served shortly.”
But Ruth stopped. Besides herself, the only occupants of the room were Kari, Max, and Søren. “Where are Laynie’s parents?”
Kari sighed. “All this has been so hard on Gene and Polly. They’ve lost their son and now their daughter. I hate seeing the pain they are in and what it is doing to them, particularly Polly. She’s rejoicing that Laynie is in heaven, but . . . but her body is so tired and weak. At the last minute, Gene thought it better that they stay home with Shannon and Robbie.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. However . . . their absence may be providential.”
“What do you mean?”
Ruth took Kari’s hand between both of hers. “Kari, you know I would never purposely hurt you, right? And Søren, you know I have only love and the best of intentions toward your family, yes?”
Søren looked from Ruth to Kari. “You’re a great comfort to Kari and our family. We will always be grateful that you came to share this time with us, Ruth.”
Ruth smiled. “You may not be thanking me for coming after you’ve seen who I’ve brought with me.”
Kari cocked her head. “What’s going on, Ruth?”
“A change in plans, I think.” She released Kari’s hand. “One moment, please.”
Ruth opened the door and gestured into the hallway. A man and a woman appeared in the doorway. Søren immediately recognized the large—very large—man but not the hijab-wearing woman beside him.
“Marshal Tobin?”
“Yes, sir. Sorry to barge in on you like this.”
“We . . . we were told you weren’t allowed to come to the memorial service.”
“Officially, we aren’t even here, sir. Begging your pardon, may we intrude on your family gathering for a few minutes?”
Søren gestured them inside, and Tobin made introductions.
“This is one of my coworkers, Miss Jessup.”
Jaz was untying her scarf and didn’t acknowledge Søren or Kari until she’d removed it. “Whew. Stuffy.” She nodded to them. “Jasmine Jessup. Please call me Jaz. Bella is a friend of mine.”
Søren, trying hard to maintain a hospitable manner, said, “So, both of you have flown the coop to attend the funeral service?”
“Not exactly,” Tobin supplied. “Uh, we realize you are sitting down to lunch shortly, but Jaz and I have come from the DC area to speak to you and your wife . . . on an urgent matter. May we have a few minutes of your time?”
Søren looked from Jaz to Tobin and back. “What you’re wearing. It’s a disguise?”
“Yes.”
“Are you the hacker who stole the Ukrainian mob’s financial records?”
Jaz nodded.
“But if they have followed you here . . .”
“They haven’t. I promise.”
Søren wasn’t convinced, but he shrugged his acquiescence. “Kari, what do you think?”
Kari motioned Jaz and Tobin to the table. “Let’s let them speak, whatever it is.”
Jaz sat but didn’t wait to get started nor did she mince words.
“Mr. and Mrs. Thoresen, the time to act is *bleeping* short, which is why Marshal Tobin and I are here. We’re unconvinced that Bella died in that car accident or that the body shipped back to the States is hers. We aren’t saying it isn’t her, but we’d like the opportunity to prove, one way or the other, that it is or isn’t. We need your permission to have a pathologist examine the body. Since you are burying her tomorrow, it must be today.”
Thunderstruck, Kari stammered, “Y-you what?”
“We need your permission—”
“I heard you. I just can’t believe what you said.”
Tobin forestalled Jaz with a heavy hand on her arm. “Please forgive us for our rather blunt start. I’ll back up a bit. Just yesterday, we came to the realization that we have no actual proof that the body recovered from the car accident is Bella’s. Director Wolfe has only the word of an onlooker. And so, rather than suffer from uncertainty and regret the rest of our lives, we are here to suggest that perhaps you, too, would appreciate the certainty of knowing that it is your sister you are burying tomorrow.”
“Her body was burned beyond recognition,” Kari muttered.
“We believe we have a means of determining if it is her body or not.”
“How? By what means?”
Tobin cleared his throat. “About six weeks ago, Bella and I were nearly killed by a car bomb.”
Already hanging on every word, Max breathed, “Holy cow.”
“You know that you cannot repeat a word I say here, right, Max?” Tobin asked.
“Sure, sure. No problem.”
“Thank you. To continue and make a long story short, Bella and I were far enough from the explosion that we only suffered minor injuries.”
Jaz rolled her eyes. “About lost your kidney, Tobin.”
“Not germane to the present situation, Miss Jessup.”
“Whatever.”
Tobin pressed on. “All you need to know is that Bella, who was running away from the bomb when it exploded, received a number of shrapnel wounds to her back, some deep enough to require stitches. To sum up, any decent pathologist could examine the body, even though it is burned, and determine if it shows any recent cuts.”
“Speaking of the body,” Jaz interjected, “what arrangements have you made?”
“Director Wolfe made all the arrangements, even provided the cemetery plot so our names would never appear in any records,” Kari said. “He chose and paid for the funeral home, too. He rented the facility for two full days for our exclusive use.”
“And Bella’s remains?” Jaz asked.
“I understand that they arrived by plane this morning and would be delivered to the funeral home.” Kari glanced at her watch. “About now.”
She stared hard at Tobin and then Jaz. “Say, only for the sake of argument, that I was willing to go along with this ‘suggestion’ of yours. How in the world could I locate and hire a pathologist on such short notice?”
“I already took care of that,” Jaz said. “Dr. Sydney Huber. Recently retired but highly reputable. I’ve booked him for the day. He’s waiting for me to forward him directions to the funeral home.”
“But how would you pay—”
“I posed as a partner in your lawyer’s firm and promised him $25,000. Used your lawyer’s firm to keep your name out of the transaction. You’ll need to arrange payment of the actual fee, of course. I don’t kite checks. Anymore.”
Tobin stepped on Jaz’s foot.
“Ow.”
“Less is more, Vyper.”
Kari waved her hand. “Stop it. What about—”
“I also emailed Dr. Huber an airtight nondisclosure agreement, the template of which I may or may not have pilfered from your law firm’s network. Dr. Huber is to bring the signed and notarized NDA with him. The agreement states that he stands to lose his entire fee should he, in any manner, speak of or refer to today’s, er, activities. Ever.”
Kari, hands flat on the table and red in the face, spit back, “It appears my lawyer’s firm needs to upgrade their security.”
“Most definitely. And, as I may be freelancing soon, I could forward you a bid if you like.”
Tobin interjected, “We don’t have time for this. Like Jaz said, the time to act is, er, short.”
Kari glanced at Søren. “What do you think?”
“Harebrained scheme from start to finish. Would never get off the ground in Nebraska.”
“Agreed. And?”
“This isn’t Nebraska. It’s New Orleans. Anything goes here. I think you should do whatever will give you the most peace of mind, Kari. No regrets, right?”
“Right. No regrets.” She looked to Max. “What do you think?”
“I’m with Dad on this, Mom. We should know for sure. You should know for sure.”
Kari reached over and hugged Max tight. “I love you, Max.”
Tears stood in his eyes. “Love you, too, Mom.”
Kari lifted her chin to Tobin. “What are you waiting for, Marshal? Time is short.”
