| |
––––––––
Robert Carmichael poured some soda from the half-empty two liter into a pink paper cup with Disney Princesses stamped on it. He set the bottle down on the paper tablecloth, also adorned with Disney Princesses, and turned to look over the back yard. Over twenty six-year-old girls swarmed around in the sunshine, dressed in their best princess dresses. Shoes had been discarded, tights were getting grass-stained, and shrieks of laughter filled the air as they ran in circles, engaged in some kind of game his sister had cooked up.
He sipped the soda and watched as his niece chased after a pink beach ball, her birthday tiara askew over her blonde curls. This was the last place he wanted to be spending his Saturday afternoon, but Rachel had made it very clear: show up or there would be hell to pay. So here he was, sipping warm soda out of a Disney Princess cup and listening to the screams of little girls as they played.
At least the FBI issue was on its way to being handled. It was a shame they didn’t bite on the drugs though. Robert sighed inwardly. Honestly, who would think Hanover would have hidden cameras all over the house? He supposed he should have known something would go wrong. After all, everything had gone wrong ever since that first street racer got killed up in New Jersey. It was like someone had broken a mirror, or spilled some salt. The bad luck was going to end though. At least, for him. Not so much for Special Agent Blake Hanover. By the end of the weekend, Robert wouldn’t have to worry about him digging around into anything except legal aid.
“Rob!”
Robert turned reluctantly to face a tall, red-faced man trudging across the grass towards him. He spread a wide smile over his face and moved forward, holding out his hand.
“Glenn!” he greeted his brother-in-laws’ cousin. “Good to see you! How was Miami?”
“Busy,” said Glenn, wringing his hand, “but productive. I’m glad to be home. Nothing like your own bed to sleep in.”
“I hear that! How’s Janet? And the kids?”
“Fine, fine. Everyone’s fine. She’s here somewhere. She got here early with Olivia. Knowing her, she’s probably in the kitchen organizing more sugar for these rugrats.” Glenn glanced at the paper cup in Robert’s hand. “Good Lord, is that what we have to drink?”
“Afraid so.”
“What’s your sister doing? Trying to cause a riot of adults?” Glenn turned to head toward the tall blonde woman directing traffic in the middle of the rugrats. “I’m going to go say hello before Janet appears and collars me into helping with something. You know how it is!”
Robert nodded and watched as Glenn made his way through the crowd of mini princesses. Glenn was nice enough. He was certainly a family man who managed to endear himself to his sister, but Robert found him barely tolerable. He laughed too much. Men who laughed that much were suspect. No one had that much to be happy about, especially in today’s political climate.
He glanced at his watch and wandered toward the patio where his brother-in-law was standing in front a grill, surrounded by half a dozen other bored husbands. It looked like the burgers were almost ready. With any luck, he could eat, they’d cut the cake, and he could high-tail it out of here. There were still a few things to wrap up at the office, and then there was the benefit dinner tonight. His assistant had reminded him again this morning of the importance of putting in an appearance. The public loved a philanthropist, and they needed the public on their side before the run to the mid-term elections. His assistant was worried about ratings and support numbers. Robert grimaced to himself. What his assistant didn’t realize was that none of it would matter if Blake Hanover managed to uncover his connection to Dominic DiBarcoli and Trasker Pharmaceuticals. In fact, if the FBI agent dug deep enough that would be the least of their worries.
If the public found out about the Casa Reinos Cartel, all would be lost.
Viper sipped black coffee and set the cup down next to a laptop on the bistro table. She was seated in front of the window overlooking a busy city street just outside Chinatown. She glanced at the traffic outside, then turned her attention back to the screen in front of her.
She had reached the parking garage without any more excitement and her luck held when she discovered all the cameras were working, and recording to a server. The garage was perfectly placed in the city. The Convention Center, train station, and Chinatown were all within walking distance, as well as numerous hotels. There was no way of narrowing down where Kyle went from there unless she managed to get something off the cameras. To that end, she had parked in the garage and crossed the road to the coffee shop on the corner, where she proceeded to hack the security footage, not only from the parking garage, but also from the traffic cameras in the street. One way or another, she’d find out when Kyle was there, and which direction he went.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
Her phone vibrated in her jacket but she ignored it, her attention focused on the black and white footage on the screen. The time had been missing, but the date was still on the paper. The receipt was from two days ago. She found the day on the server and began the tedious act of plowing through camera footage, looking for the sedan. Ironically enough, it wasn’t the sedan that caught her attention first. It was Kyle himself.
Viper hit pause and stared at the grainy picture on the screen. It was definitely him, dressed in a black jacket and jeans, walking into the parking garage from the east side entrance. She tilted her head and studied him for a moment. He had a bag over his shoulder and a cup of coffee in his hand. Alina glanced at the cup of coffee next to her laptop and raised an eyebrow.
It was the same cup.
Her lips curved coldly. He was staying nearby. That narrowed the field down considerably. She pressed play and watched as he strode into the garage and disappeared into the elevator. Alina reached for her coffee again, watching the various floors until Kyle emerged from the elevator on the top floor and strode towards the sedan. A minute later, it pulled out of the spot and rolled toward the exit ramp. Sipping her drink, she watched as he circled down to the ground floor and pulled to the entrance. There he stopped and spoke to the employee, who nodded and passed him the infamous receipt.
Viper sat back thoughtfully. Why get a receipt if he had paid in cash? Surely he wasn’t dumb enough to pay with a credit card? She picked up the torn paper and glanced at it. All that remained was the address, date and name of the business. No amount or form of payment remained. Her eyes went back to the screen and she pressed her lips together. If he had paid with a card, she could find out exactly where he was, and even what kind of toothpaste he used. They always paid cash. It was how they worked. So why the receipt?
The sedan turned right out of the lot and disappeared out of frame. Viper reached out and paused the footage, glancing at the time stamp on the camera. It was just after ten in the morning. She resumed and sped it up, sipping her coffee as the hours quickly rolled over, and countless cars came and went through the entrance. By the time she’d finished her coffee, the footage was onto the next day and the sedan had not returned. With a sigh, she closed out of the program and sat back in her chair, thoughtfully turning her attention out of the window.
He was staying nearby, that was apparent, and he had the option of parking in the street or utilizing the parking garage. She stared blindly at the traffic. He would want somewhere he could go unnoticed; somewhere that assured a high level of privacy. A hotel would be her first choice, followed very closely by a short-term, furnished rental. Unfortunately, both were abundant in the city, and narrowing it down would take time, time she didn’t have.
Alina turned her dark gaze from the window and glanced to the back of the store and the two barista’s working behind the counter. There was another way she could narrow it down.
All she needed was a name.
Michael looked up as Blake came back into the room. Angela was propped up in the bed, her phone in her hand, scouring the local news sites for updates. Her blood-stained clothes were in a clear plastic bag on a stool in the corner and the hospital scrubs she’d been given hung on her slender frame. A thick bandage covered the new stitches on her neck, and another was visible on her shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” Blake asked, looking at her.
“Like I’m ready to get out of here,” she replied, glancing up. “I’m all stitched up and they gave me Vicodin for pain, so I’m not feeling much of anything right now. How’s Steph?”
“She just got moved into a room. The doctor said the bullet barely missed her femoral artery. It’s out, but she lost a lot of blood. When she fell, she clocked her head pretty bad. He wants to keep her for a few days to keep an eye on her.”
“Oh, I bet she has something to say about that,” said Angela. “She won’t stay in for a bump on the head and a hole in her leg.”
“I’m sure she will, once she wakes up,” Blake agreed, “but she won’t have a choice. I’m not letting her leave.”
Angela grinned.
“Good luck with that,” she said, going back to her phone. “I’ll put money on Stephanie.”
“I’ll put mine on Blake,” Michael said with a laugh.
“How about you?” Blake asked her.
“I’m just waiting for the doc to sign the discharge papers and I can leave. Although, I don’t know if I want to now. Maybe I should stay with Steph.”
“I don’t think that’s an option,” said Blake with a grin. “It’s not exactly a hotel. You can’t just check in and out.”
“Have you heard from Lina yet?” Angela turned to look at Michael, frowning when he shook his head. “Where the hell is she?!”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you heard anything about the shooting? Either of you? All the news is saying is that someone opened fire at a funeral and the shooter is still at large. How can that be all they know?”
Blake glanced at Michael and caught the look of exasperation in his eyes.
“The news isn’t going to know any more than the police, and that’s all the police know right now.” He shrugged. “You have to give them time.”
“This is absurd. Why would someone start shooting at a funeral anyway?! It’s disrespectful!”
Blake bit his lip to keep from laughing.
“Mmmm,” was all he could trust himself to say.
“I mean, who were they even aiming at?” Angela continued, oblivious. “Obviously they weren’t a good shot. I mean, they hit everything except a person, thank God. Have you heard anything about a possible motive?”
“I don’t know any more than you do,” Blake said. “I left with you, remember? Mike, did you hear anything before you left?”
“Nope.”
Angela looked from one man to the other, her eyes narrowed. They both stared back blandly, and the silence was suddenly very thick.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she demanded after a moment.
Michael’s eyebrows soared into his forehead in surprise.
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb,” she snapped. “There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael muttered, glancing at his watch. “I don’t know any more about this than you.”
“You know something. You’re not even remotely bothered by the fact that someone opened fire at a funeral. That means part of you was expecting it. And you’ve been spending more time looking at your phone, waiting for something, than you have been talking to me. It’s Lina, isn’t it? She’s got something to do with this, and you can’t get hold of her.”
Blake was startled, and he was glad that Angela’s full attention seemed to be focused on Michael at the moment. He looked at the woman in the bed, a new light of respect dawning in his eyes. She was proving to be a lot sharper than he had given her credit for.
“I’m just wondering where she’s disappeared to,” said Michael, looking up. “Forgive me if I’m a little concerned, considering that out of the three of you, she’s the only one unaccounted for.”
“I’ve called her three times,” Angela admitted, the accusing tone leaving her voice abruptly. “It goes straight to voicemail. She’s infuriating. What’s she doing? I’m telling you, she knows something, just like you two.”
“All I know is that when Steph wakes up, I have to somehow convince her to stay put for a few days,” Blake said. “I don’t know what else you think I should know, but that’s my main concern right this second.”
“What about her boss?” Angela asked after a moment. “He was there, right? Is he coming to see her? Maybe he can convince her.”
Blake blinked.
“You know what?” he said, pulling out his phone. “That’s not a bad idea. Rob will make sure she stays put.”
“I’m good for some things.”
“I hate to be the voice of doom over here,” said Michael apologetically, “but isn’t she on LOA? Rob can’t order her to do anything if she’s on leave.”
“Actually, she’s not anymore,” Blake said, hitting speed-dial. “Rob mentioned it this morning before...well, before everything went down. She was supposed to go into the office tomorrow morning for a meeting.”
Michael stared at him, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Just like that? She’s reinstated with no explanation?” he demanded. “What kind of outfit do you Feds run over there?”
Blake glanced at him and held up his hand as he turned away.
“Yeah, Rob? It’s Blake.” He strode out of the room, the phone pressed to his ear.
“That will make Stephanie happy, at least,” said Angela. “She’s been miserable not working. Does it matter why?”
Michael shrugged, his face creased into a frown. A few weeks before, Stephanie was placed on administrative leave of absence following John’s accident. There had been no clear explanation for the action, and Michael knew Alina had some suspicions regarding it. When John passed away, Rob used it as an excuse for Stephanie to remain on leave. Now, suddenly, she was back in the fold? No questions asked? Michael scowled. Something wasn’t right and he didn’t like it.
And what was more, he knew Viper wouldn’t like it either.