"Come on!" I begged. "It's a great idea! She'd be a perfect fit!"
Rex shook his head. "I love Kelly, and I'd love to help her. I just don't have it in the budget."
Apparently the giant sausage and pepperoni calzone I brought him for lunch as a bribe didn't have the effect I'd hoped.
"Petition the City Council! She'd be a huge help here." I tilted my head toward the main room, where Officer Kevin Dooley was engrossed in making a cow out of transparent tape.
"That"—he nodded at Kevin—"is the perfect example of why I don't have the budget. We had to get rid of one officer last week because I don't have enough for them to do. I'm sorry, Merry."
I slumped into a chair with a sigh. This would've been great for Kelly—and for me because I'd been hoping she'd feed me information when I needed it on cases. Since pretty much 100% of murders in town had something to do with me, I thought it would be beneficial.
My husband came over to the chair and took my hands, lifting me to a standing position. He looked into my eyes. This was unusual because he didn't like displays of affection at work. I waited for him to kiss me, but he squeezed my hands.
"I'm sorry. I really wish I could help. I could call the sheriff and see if he has anything."
My eyebrows went up. Carnack's office had moved into town recently, after the old office caught fire due to faulty wiring. Since Who's There was the county seat and we had some available space downtown, it was decided that he'd set up shop here. And though I didn't usually deal with his office as much, Kelly as my well-placed spy could be good.
"Okay! Do that. Let me know!" I kissed him on the lips quickly and raced out of there before he could notice that I took the calzone with me. Finding a job for Kelly was hard work, and I was hungry.
Back at home, I'd just polished off the calzone when my doorbell rang. A quick glance across the street told me Hilly's SUV was gone. Where was she always running off to? She said she was on vacation, and if she was, it was none of my business. Still, my spy-dy senses were tingling as I opened the front door.
The man on my steps wore a fedora and trench coat. It was summer. A thick walrus mustache poked out beneath the shade of the hat.
"Ahmed," I sighed before grabbing his arm and dragging him into my house.
"How did you know it was me?" he whined.
"That's the same disguise you wore a few years back, remember?"
Ahmed had shown up on my other doorstep in disguise once before. It was a crap costume then and was a crap costume now.
"What are you doing here?" I asked as I ran around closing the drapes, knocking Philby from the windowsill.
"I escaped!" he said with a dramatic flourish, knocking his hat off in the process.
"Escaped from where?" I made him sit on the couch, where he was immediately covered in one dog and two cats.
"I like your pets," he said as he lavished attention on all three.
Leonard wriggled with delight, and Martini actually stayed awake long enough to purr before passing out on his lap. Philby glared at him from the armrest.
"Ahmed! Focus!"
"Oh, right." He took off the coat and peeled off the mustache. "Did you know HR has their own jail cells?"
I did know that. When I'd been outed, HR was most apologetic. They'd taken me to a conference room, and next to that was a dungeon. I always assumed it was used by the travel department director/part-time dominatrix for side jobs. A dungeon at the CIA would scare the hell out of anyone.
"What happened? I've been trying to get ahold of you!"
"Do you have any food?" he asked hopefully, sniffing as the scent of the calzone hung in the air.
My former colleague followed me to the kitchen, where I pulled meat and cheese from the fridge.
"Anything to drink?" His eyebrows wiggled.
I handed him a bottle of beer, and we sat at the table. Ahmed ate ravenously for a few moments, and I studied him. He didn't look any worse for wear. No bruises, and he wasn't thinner than I thought he'd be.
I waited. That was one of the most important talents for a spy. And it's one of the hardest to pull off. Many a mission has been compromised by impatient spies. And even though I was certainly impatient, I'd managed to wait. For most things. There was this time in Estonia when I was supposed to wait for a package at this hole-in-the-wall tavern. It had been seven hours late. I'd hoped the bartender didn't notice how fidgety I'd been, even though I'd eaten four dinners consisting only of Lutefisk during that time.
This was harder because whatever intel he gave me would tell me whether Hilly murdered ABT or whether I needed to start looking somewhere else. If Rex had any leads, he wasn't saying, which in hindsight, considering my past actions, was understandable.
Ahmed would determine the direction of my investigation. I wondered if he knew that. It was probably the most important thing he'd done in years. But I wasn't going to let him know that.
"I tried to be discreet," he said at long last. "But they were on to me. I might have gotten a little carried away. It's the lure of the cookies." He set his beer down. "Do you have them on you? I believe I've earned them."
I was starting to worry that Hilly would come over and see him. What would she think of Ahmed being here?
Pulling a box of peanut butter sandwich cookies from a high cupboard, I set them on the table. "Talk."
"Those HR people are insane," he said as he tore open the box. "All I did was sneak into the director's office to look for Hilly's file. I don't know how they found out!"
I groaned. "I'm sure there are cameras, Ahmed. It's the CIA!"
He nodded. "I thought about that. Which was why I promised Ben in IT a case of those caramel coconut things. He was supposed to shut down the cameras in that department."
"Just how many boxes of cookies do I owe? You were supposed to do this yourself."
Ahmed pulled a roll of paper from his pocket, and it dropped to the floor and unfurled all the way to the dining room, where Philby attacked it.
"I can't do this alone! I'm just an analyst!" he protested.
"Finish the story," I said through gritted teeth as I fought my cat for the list.
"Somehow they found out I'd been in there, and they tossed me into a cell. One of them took my phone. I thought I was a goner."
"HR doesn't usually toy with assassinations." I shook my head.
"Well, sure, I know that now."
"How did you get out?" I asked in spite of myself.
"Maid let me out. By the way, you owe her a case of mint cookies."
I took a moment to calm myself so I didn't implode and kill him right then and there. "It's summer! I don't have many boxes in my stash, let alone cases! We sell in February!"
He nodded. "I know. I told them that. They can wait."
That appeased me for the moment. "Did you say the maid let you out?"
"Yes. Very nice lady named Lucia."
My mind was swimming. "How would a maid have the keys to the cells?"
"Someone has to clean them." Ahmed sniffed.
I shook my head. "You didn't escape. You were released. They wanted to find out if you were working for some other agency." Or me.
"I came right here!" He looked around as the color drained from his face.
"Okay, so they followed you. They're probably going to be relieved you aren't working for Russia."
This didn't appease him. "I need to hide out for a little while. You have a guest room?"
I shook my head. "I can't put you up. I've got Hilly living in my old house across the street!"
Ahmed's eyes grew wide. "She's here? Like, here here?"
"Yes! Why do you think I asked you to find out if she's on assignment or on vacation?" I was getting more than a little frustrated and started imagining torturing him with a melon baller.
"You can't let her know I'm not watching her beetles. She'd kill me!"
"You left her prize beetles alone?" I started to worry about the bugs.
He shook his head. "No, I gave her key to Ted Vandersloot in Communications. He said he'd take care of them."
"You…" I said slowly for emphasis, "left Ted Vandersloot, who has the IQ of a pebble, to take care of a dangerous asset's pet bugs?"
Ahmed blanched appropriately. I guessed he'd never thought of that. "You need to hide me at a hotel. In your name. Preferably with room service."
"I'll put you up in one in Des Moines," I said. "It's half an hour away, and no one will ever find you. But I'm not paying for room service or digital rentals, and if I think you are for one moment taking advantage, you'll never see another Girl Scout cookie for the rest of your life."
Ahmed seemed to weigh his options. "Okay." He bit into another cookie.
"Well?" I asked.
"Well what?"
"Hilly! What is she doing here?" I shouted. "It's the reason you're on the lam!"
"Oh, that. Yeah, she's on assignment."
My heart dropped. Riley was right. She was here to kill Anna Beth, Lana, or me.
"In Bulgaria," Ahmed finished.
"Bulgaria?"
He nodded. "That's what the records say. They have no idea she's in country, let alone in Iowa."
I stood there gaping at him as he polished off the box. Had the assassin gone rogue? And what had she gone rogue for?
It was time to get rid of Ahmed while Hilly was still gone. I texted Rex to let him know I had to go to Des Moines for an "errand."
He called me back.
"That's good," my husband said. "I've actually got a meeting with Dr. Body in the morgue. She's going to give me the full report."
What? "Oh," I said. Maybe I could stash Ahmed in the basement for a few days. "I could put it off and meet you there."
"No," he insisted. "I'm sure whatever you've got is important. You go. Maybe I'll brief you later."
I hung up in frustration. This was something I wanted to know about. If only he'd hired Kelly… Of course, that would have been this afternoon, which would be kind of fast.
"Come on, Ahmed." I grabbed my purse and headed for the back door. "Grab your bag, and let's go."
The thirty-minute drive to the big city was uneventful, with Ahmed droning on and on about dung beetles. My mind was back in town at the morgue, wondering what new information was being discussed.
Which was why I stashed Ahmed at a cheap motel on the other side of the city. He didn't look happy when he found out they didn't have room service, but I gave him $100, and the pancake house next door was open 24 hours, so he couldn't complain.
"Don't open the door to anyone you don't know," I warned. "You know, the Agency might have a hit out on you." I threw that in just for fun. "In fact, don't open the door to anyone you know, either. Just to be safe."
By the time I got back, it was early evening and Rex still wasn't home. I fed the animals (ignoring Philby's usual disgust at having to eat canned food…again) and had an idea where I might find some more intel on Erskine's missing crop.