5
SIX MONTHS LATER
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 5
SC FBI RESIDENT AGENCY, SATELLITE OFFICE
GREENVILLE, SC
Special Agent Joseph Duncan stepped through the doors and made his way to the small square room he called an office.
“Yo, Duncan, welcome back. Nice job on that last assignment. Took you long enough, though.”
Joe turned and waved at Ralph Thorn, who nursed a cup of coffee on his way to his own desk. “Thanks, man.”
“Six months is a long time.”
“Too long, but not as long as I thought it would be.” He tried to force a smile, but was sure it came out more in the form of a grimace than anything else.
“You been home yet?”
“Nope. Had to stop by here and get caught up a little. Then I plan to go home and sleep for about a week.” Home. He should call it his hovel. Bitterness nearly engulfed him. Two years ago his father had died and left everything to Joe’s older brother. The shining star. The Wall Street executive. The one who already had more money than he knew what to do with.
And Joe? He inherited a trailer park where no one paid the rent unless you hounded them or threatened eviction. Like he had time for that. It was one reason he liked the long undercover assignments. Actually six months wasn’t all that long. He’d been hoping for a year or longer. Maybe next time.
“Sounds good. Let’s get together for lunch when you surface.”
“Right.”
Thorn took a gulp of his brew and disappeared into his office across from Joe’s cubicle.
Joseph Duncan. He shook his head. The name sounded weird. He’d used so many names over the past six months he wasn’t sure who he was anymore.
His phone rang and he sighed. Word traveled fast. “Duncan.”
“You’re back.” Peter Hastings’s low voice rumbled in his ear.
“I am.”
“Are we on for tonight?”
He frowned. “Tonight?”
“We’ve got a shipment coming in. And we have a buyer for the plates. So bring them.”
Joe sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Tonight. I can’t tonight.”
“We need you there, Joe.”
“I promised my sister I’d help her with something.” He’d told Cheryl he’d bring her some cash. Her bum of a husband had left her with three small kids, and she was struggling just to put food on the table and hold down a part-time job that paid squat. Of course their older brother didn’t care about that. He had only disdain for his two siblings who hadn’t had what it took to make the big bucks. And their father?
No sense in going there, Duncan. “Never mind, I’ll be there.” Joe rubbed his gritty eyes. “I need the money.” His sister needed the money. “Wait a minute. What plates?”
“The plates that Kurt hid and only you know where they are? We’ve been waiting for you to come out from under so we could get them, but it’s been a long, hard wait.”
“Dude, I don’t have the plates. Kurt had ’em, but he didn’t give them to me.”
Silence. “What?”
“He didn’t give them to me.” Joe repeated himself, enunciating each word as though talking to someone who didn’t understand English.
“Joe—”
“You going to make me say it again?”
“Don’t mess with us, Joe. You know what happened to Trennen.” Raw anger filtered through the line.
Joe shook his head in disbelief as his adrenaline gave a sudden rush. He sat up, the weariness of the last six months falling from his shoulders. “You threatening me?”
“Should I?”
Joe felt his blood hum and the anger start to boil in his belly. “You don’t want to go there. I said I don’t have the plates and I don’t.”
A long stretch of silence. Joe waited him out. “Right. Of course. Sorry.”
“Yeah.” Another stretch of silence. “Why would you think I had the plates? Kurt had them last time I heard.”
“Kurt talked about giving them to you for safekeeping.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know, man, I’m just telling you what he said.”
“Right. Well, he didn’t give them to me.”
“So you said.”
“Maybe he was planning on it and got killed before he could do it.”
“Maybe.”
Weariness pressed in on him. “Tonight. I’ll be there. We’ll talk more about this when I see you. You’ll have to tell the buyer that the plates are unavailable and we’ll contact him when we have them ready.”
“Right. Like that’s going to go over well.”
“Look, just tell him there was a glitch in one of them, something that needs to be tweaked. He doesn’t want faulty plates, does he?”
“I’ll tell him.”
Joe hung up and sat back, his mind spinning.
He reached for the stack of mail as he thought. Anything business related would have been opened by his designee. Anything personal would have been left alone. Also by his request. When he went undercover, he cut off all ties with any personal life. Which wasn’t much anyway. The only thing he requested was that his paycheck be split in half. Half went to his sister and half went into a savings account.
Anger boiled beneath the surface. Why would Pete think Joe had the plates? Why would Kurt talk to Pete about giving the plates to Joe? That didn’t make any sense.
Joe blew out a frustrated breath. He picked up the phone and dialed Cheryl’s number. He’d called her the minute his plane landed, telling her he’d watch the kids for her while she had some much needed time to herself. And now he was going to have to renege. He hated it for her, but it couldn’t be helped. The phone rang three times. “Hello?”
“Hey there, Princess, is your mom home?”
“Hey, Uncle Joe. She’s here, but I want to talk to you first.” His five-year-old niece loved talking on the phone. Joe closed his eyes. As much as he loved his sister’s kids, he didn’t have time to talk.
“Can’t talk right now, kiddo, get me your mom.”
“Say please.”
“Please.”
“Pretty please?”
Joe bit his tongue on the words he really wanted to say. “Pretty please, Gina. Now get your mom.”
“Well, you don’t have to be mean about it.”
Joe winced and shook his head.
“Brat,” he muttered, but couldn’t help the smile. His sister and her kids were the only people on this earth that he cared about. And he needed money to take care of them.
“Hey. You’re backing out on me, aren’t you?” Cheryl sounded weary and run-down.
“Yeah. But when I’m done, I’ll come spend the night and you can sleep in and get up and go do whatever you need to do.”
“Okay, thanks, Joe.” The relief in her voice hit him hard. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
He hung up and rubbed his eyes. A rap on the side of his cubicle brought his head up. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Stuart slipped into the chair across from him. “Welcome back, partner.”
“Yeah.” Joe snorted. “Welcome back to me. It never stops, does it?”
“Nope.”
Joe gave his eyes another scrub. “So, how’s it going?”
“Got a lot to tell you about.”
“Like?”
Stuart snickered. “Like the case that landed on my desk this morning.”
“What case?”
“Some old woman thought her kid was growing pot in her basement, so she called us.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “And?”
“I rode out there. He’s not growing pot, he’s growing a garden and selling the vegetables.”
“Yeah. It’s like the perfect greenhouse down there. Said he was desperate to get out from under his mother and found he can do this and make pretty good money.”
“How old’s the kid?”
“Fifteen.”
Joe snorted and Stuart laughed. “I know.” He leaned forward, wondering if Stuart knew anything about the plates. “So, did Kurt ever talk to you about his cases?”
“Kurt?” Stuart shrugged. “No. We didn’t talk if we could avoid it, you know that.”
“Right. Right.”
Stuart leaned back and crossed his arms. “Why would you even ask that? What are you after?”
Joe stood. “Nothing.” If Stuart had the plates, he didn’t want to press the issue. Not yet. He’d just wait and watch. “I’ve got to go. Catch you later.”
Stuart frowned, suspicion glinting. Joe ignored it and left, feeling Stuart’s gaze drilling holes in his back.
Not all plans worked out, the watcher knew that. In fact, most of the time, plans fell through because they weren’t thought out to completion. The planner was too hasty in his need to put it into action.
However, the watcher had prepared for this. Planned, schemed, lied, and done whatever it took to make sure all the players were in place. Like chess pieces on the board, they only moved where the watcher guided them.
There were a good many players. Too many almost, but the plan would work. No doubt about that. It had to.
Ironically enough, the watcher had enjoyed putting the plan together and manipulating the players in this deadly game. However, it was time for everything to come to a head.
Time for the pieces to take over and do their job.
Revenge was the ultimate goal and no one would stop the watcher from achieving it.