| |
––––––––
Michael stared across the white Formica table at Blake, his coffee forgotten in his hands. The early morning diner crowd faded into the background as he tried to comprehend what he’d just been told.
“What?!”
Blake nodded, sipping his coffee.
“Ken called me last night. I don’t even remember the woman.”
Michael set down his mug and rubbed his face.
“Sorry. I’m trying to wrap my brain around this,” he said, dropping his hands and shaking his head. “So, this woman you don’t even remember is accusing you of...what, exactly?”
“Professional misconduct and sexual assault.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Michael reached for his coffee. “When did this supposedly happen?”
“Two years ago. She was a witness on a case I was working. She claims I insisted on interviewing her alone, then followed and assaulted her a few days later.”
Michael stared at him.
“And she’s just now coming forward?”
Blake shrugged.
“The affidavit states she’s been in therapy for two years and just now came to a place in her recovery where she can face the experience,” he muttered. “The Bureau has no choice but to follow procedure. I’ve been placed on leave, pending a full internal investigation.”
Michael drank his coffee in silence, his mind spinning.
“What the hell is going on?” he finally said, setting down his empty mug. “First someone plants drugs in your closet, now this. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”
“I have no idea,” Blake said, pouring more coffee into his cup from the thermal carafe on the table. “Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that since last night.”
Michael took the carafe from Blake and refilled his own cup.
“Someone is trying to discredit you, and it’s someone who doesn’t know you very well. They’re picking things completely out of character for you.”
“They’re picking things that will ruin my career.”
“You pissed someone off,” Michael agreed. “Any idea who?”
Blake gave him an exasperated look.
“Would you like a list?” he asked. “I can think of any number of people who aren’t happy with me. I’m sure you could do the same. We’re Feds in DC, for God’s sake!”
Michael grinned.
“Good point. Ok, let’s start with this woman. What’s her name?”
“Tina Ricci. She’s a political consultant.”
“Of course she is,” Michael muttered. “What firm?”
“She has her own practice, The Ricci Group.”
Michael nodded.
“We’ll start there,” he decided. “Can you think of any reason she would have a bone to pick with you?”
Blake shook his head.
“None. This is all so surreal. How can I defend myself against a woman I don’t even remember?”
“You don’t,” said Michael firmly. “You let your attorney defend you. You do have one, right?”
Blake nodded.
“I called him this morning. He’s coming up tomorrow morning.”
“Good. In the meantime, I’ll add this Tina Ricci to my list and see what I can find out.”
Blake looked at him, his face grim.
“For God’s sake, be careful. We don’t need you coming under fire as well. I can only handle one catastrophe at a time.”
“Have you told Stephanie yet?” Michael asked after a moment.
“No. I’m going to the hospital after breakfast. I’m not looking forward to telling her. What if she believes it?”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Michael assured him. “She’s not stupid. She’ll realize someone is attacking you.”
“I hope so.”
Viper glanced around the deserted hallway before bending over the door handle. A second later, she was rewarded with a faint click, and she slipped inside silently. She closed the door behind her and reached into her back holster to pull out the Ruger, listening intently. No sound marred the perfect silence.
When she left the house just after dawn, Hawk was still sleeping. Despite their conversation last night, Alina didn’t tell him of her plans for this morning. What he didn’t know couldn’t bother him.
Viper flipped the safety off and moved forward, holding the gun near her shoulder. Kyle had checked into a spacious two-room suite, and the sitting area faced her at the end of the tiny entryway. Coming to the edge of the wall, Viper glanced around the sitting room, then peeked around the corner to see into the rest of the suite. It was empty.
A sofa was in front of her, facing a flat screen TV mounted on the wall across the room. Two arm chairs flanked a coffee table in the center of the sitting room, and a full wet bar and mini fridge were next to the TV. Wide double doors stood open on the other end of the wall, giving Viper a clear view into the bedroom. The bed had not been slept in.
Moving forward slowly, Viper crossed the sitting room to the bedroom, pausing at the open doors. There was no sound from within, and she scanned the bedroom slowly. The dresser was bare and the small desk in front of the window was clear.
Viper put the safety back on and crossed the bedroom to look in the empty bathroom. Plastic still wrapped the cups on the sink and the shower curtain was pulled back to expose a sterile tub. A basket on the vanity held an assortment of unopened shampoos and soaps.
Alina pressed her lips together and tucked her gun back into her holster, turning to gaze around the large bedroom.
Kyle was gone.
She wasn’t really surprised. After she followed him out of the parking lot yesterday, he had to have known she would hunt him down. The problem, of course, was now he was in the wind again.
Alina crossed the room and systematically began to go through every drawer and closet, looking for anything that might have been left behind. She was just closing the last drawer when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling it out, she glanced at the screen and frowned at the number displayed. Her eyes narrowed and she hesitated for second before sliding the phone back into her pocket, ignoring the call.
Turning to the king-size bed, Alina bent down to peer underneath. A moment later, she straightened up again. Even under the bed was spotless. She shook her head and went back into the sitting room. Housekeeping was not this good. Kyle had sanitized the place before he skipped out.
Less than ten minutes after she entered the suite, Viper was slipping back out the door. The sitting room was just as sterile as the bedroom. There was nothing left of the assassin who caused such a stir at John’s funeral yesterday morning. He had disappeared.
As Alina closed the door behind her, her lips tightened grimly. While she would love to think Kyle had fled, Viper knew better. He had simply changed locations. His goal remained the same.
And now she had no idea where he was.
Stephanie looked up from her laptop as Blake came into the hospital room carrying a cup carrier with two large coffees in one hand and a large bouquet of flowers in the other. The Go Bag from the trunk of her car was slung over his shoulder.
“I’ve got coffee and the bag from your car,” he announced, walking over to set the cup holder down on the side table near the bed. He dropped her bag onto the bed. “I stopped and got these for you. I thought they might cheer you up.”
Stephanie accepted the flowers with a large smile.
“They’re gorgeous!” she exclaimed.
Blake grinned and lifted one of the coffees out of the holder.
“I’m glad you like them,” he said, taking them from her and handing her the coffee. “I didn’t know if you like flowers, but I figured the room could use some color.”
“I appreciate it,” she told him sincerely, sipping the coffee. “And the coffee! I don’t know what they have here, but it is not coffee.”
Blake glanced around, looking for something to put the flowers into, then shrugged and laid them down on the table.
“Maybe the nurse has something we can stick these in,” he said, picking up the other coffee and sinking into the chair next to the bed. “How are you feeling today?”
“I feel fine, but the doctor isn’t happy. My white cell count went up overnight and he thinks there’s an infection. They put an antibiotic through the IV.”
Blake frowned.
“That’s not good. See? It’s a good thing you agreed to stay.”
Stephanie glowered at him.
“Don’t you dare say I told you so, or I’ll throw this coffee at you!”
Blake laughed and held up his hand in mock surrender.
“My lips are sealed!”
Stephanie nodded and set her coffee down on the table, reaching for her bag. She opened it and reached into the inside pocket, pulling out a phone charger.
“Thank you for grabbing this,” she said, plugging the charger into her phone. “My phone died overnight.”
“No problem.”
Blake got up and took the cell phone and charger from her, walking around to plug it into the outlet behind the side table. He laid the phone on the table within her reach and went back to his chair.
“Have you heard anything from Michael?” she asked. “How’s Angela?”
“I met him for breakfast this morning. She’s fine, I think. He said she was in pain last night, but took some meds and went to bed. I don’t think he’d seen her yet this morning.”
“Angie’s tougher than she looks. She’ll be alright.” Stephanie reached for her coffee again. She glanced at Blake. “What’s wrong?”
Blake raised his eyebrows.
“What do you mean?”
She smiled at him.
“I’m getting to know you pretty well, Blake Hanover. You look bothered by something. So spit it out. What is it?”
Blake hesitated for a second, then got up and walked over to the door. He said something to the agent on duty and closed the door. Stephanie raised her eyebrow as he crossed back over to the chair.
“It’s that bad that you have to close the door?”
“I’d rather not take the chance of anyone overhearing, no,” Blake admitted. “I got a call last night from my boss, Ken.”
“Good! Did they find the guy who planted heroin in your closet?”
Blake shook his head, his face grim.
“No. He’s disappeared. Something else has happened.”
Stephanie watched him, a feeling of foreboding stealing over her.
“What?”
Blake looked at her, got up restlessly and began pacing.
“A woman filed charges of professional misconduct and sexual assault against me.”
Stephanie’s mouth dropped open.
“What?!”
“She was a witness on a case I worked two years ago. I don’t even remember her, and I certainly never assaulted her.”
“Of course not,” Stephanie said immediately. “You’re being attacked.”
Blake stopped pacing and looked at her.
“You didn’t even hesitate,” he said, surprised. “How do you know I didn’t assault her? I mean, I didn’t, but what makes you so sure?”
Stephanie gave him an exasperated look.
“I may not have known you for long, but I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. You’re not a predator. At least, not that kind,” she qualified with a quick grin. “I have no doubt you were lethal enough in the Marines.”
Blake nodded and resumed pacing.
“Well, I appreciate your vote of confidence. I’m going to need all the support I can get. I don’t even know where to begin to defend myself.”
“We can start by examining who would go through this amount of trouble to come after you.” Stephanie sipped her coffee. “First the drugs, now this. Someone wants you out of the picture. Who?”
“That’s the big question,” Blake said, picking up his coffee from the arm of the chair. “Michael said he’ll look into the woman, but I can’t do anything. I’m not even allowed onto agency property.”
Stephanie frowned.
“They suspended you?”
“Administrative LOA, pending an internal investigation,” he said glumly. “I have an attorney coming up on the train tomorrow. Ken advised I stay put up here for the time being. Do you mind if Buddy and I stick around a little while longer?”
“Of course not!” Stephanie waved her hand. “You’re welcome as long as you need to stay. Why isn’t he making you go back to DC?”
Blake glanced at her.
“Honestly? Ken thinks the charges are bogus, but he has to follow protocol. I think he’s thinking if I stay up here, I’m not presenting an easy target.”
Stephanie fell silent, staring at the blanket thoughtfully. Blake continued to pace restlessly, drinking his coffee.
“After we stopped those bombs, when did you get back to DC?” she asked suddenly, looking up.
Blake paused.
“I don’t know...I was here Sunday night, then Monday we were both in the Philly office,” he said slowly, casting his mind back. “I left Tuesday morning to go back, so I must have gotten back in town around mid-afternoon. Why?”
“When was your house broken into?”
Blake looked at her.
“Wednesday night.”
They stared at each other for a beat, then Blake whistled.
“You think this is all tied in with the terrorist attack?”
“It seems a little coincidental that the day after you get back into town, all this starts. And let’s face it, that wasn’t an ordinary terrorist attack. You’ve been working the Casa Reino Cartel for over a year, and they were involved in running the bomb parts up the coast. Then you interview Dominic DiBarcoli about street racers and he ends up dead the next day, in DC. When you get back home, someone plants drugs in your house. You don’t think they’re all connected?”
Blake stared at her, stunned, and pulled out his phone.
“I never even saw it,” he muttered, hitting speed dial.
“Who are you calling?”
“Michael.”
Stephanie raised an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“He’s digging into Trasker Pharmaceuticals. If they’re coming after me, he’s next!”