The Second Man (12 page)

Dave raised his eyebrows. “What part?”

“He didn’t mention Ben met with someone from college the day he was killed. All he told me was that a classmate was implicated because of some kind of evidence pointing to St. John’s alumni.”

“Denton wouldn’t tell you everything he knows. By the way, my FBI friend confirmed Andrew is a security professional. He was very interested to hear your ex was involved with this case.”

“Why?”

“Rumor has it the CIA has used Andrew in the past when they needed field work done outside of channels.”

“What does that mean, outside of channels?”

“It usually means they hire a contractor who knows how to get information without a warrant.” Dave blinked. “Like if someone wants to search government records, or a location, but they don’t have probable cause, they might ask someone like him to do it for them.”

“I don’t get it,” Jill said. “You mean he breaks in places?”

Dave nodded. “Maybe.”

“Do you think he broke in to my house? But that’s not possible. He didn’t show up until afterwards.” Jill pushed the hair off her face.

“Did he? Or was he already here?”

“I, I don’t know.”

“Did you see him drive up?”

“No. He rang the bell after I was inside for a few minutes. But he wasn’t there when I got home a few minutes before that.”

“He could have been on another street.”

“But this all happened in broad daylight, for heaven’s sake!” Jill stood, rubbing her hands up and down the chilled skin of her arms. “And if he did do that, why wouldn’t he leave before the cops got here?”

“He might be trying to control things, or get a feel how the police were going to pursue it. I don’t know. I’m not saying Andrew did it, but your instincts might have been right last night. The burglary could be connected to whatever the hell the government is looking into.”

“But what would he be looking for inside my house?”

“I have no idea. Do you have a lot of mementoes and things from college? Something that might show a relationship between Ben and someone who might be involved?”

Jill laced her fingers together tightly. “No. I don’t have anything like that. Only a couple of yearbooks. Some personal pictures. A couple of video tapes and stuff of the talent shows.”

“I don’t think there’s a connection.” Dave stood up. “My advice for now is to stay away from Denton. I’m going to talk with another intelligence source in LA, and then I have to pick up Carly and Ham at the airport tonight. I’ll call you first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure. Are you going to tell Carly about all of this?”

“No. Let’s continue to keep it between us. You two girls will have plenty to talk about besides an unsolved murder that may or may not involve people you know.”

“Okay.” Jill walked Dave outside. “Tell her to call me tonight, no matter how late, okay?”

“Will you be home by midnight? That’s how late it will be by the time I get them to their hotel.”

“Yes.” She smiled. “You sound like my dad.”

“Sometimes I feel like your dad.” He pointed at the house. “Keep this place locked up.”

“Right.” Jill closed the door and leaned against it.

So Andrew has a reputation for breaking and entering. And one of my classmates might actually be involved in Ben Pierce’s murder.

She pressed her hand against her chest.

One thing was for sure. She was glad she got her gun back from Max. And that he had bought her a box of bullets.

Ben’s killer sped down the Pacific Coast Highway in the fading sunshine, thrilled as the rented car fishtailed along the narrow road.

He loved fast cars and narrow roads, and wished his life allowed more time for both.

Inhaling deeply, the man settled back into the leather seat, relaxing his foot on the gas. Meeting the woman face to face over dinner had gone off as he had hoped, and screwing her senseless had gone even better. She had voiced no complaints, expressed no doubts, and so far was a willing and satisfied partner.

He had enjoyed more than a few moments of it, letting himself go in a way he wouldn’t have guessed possible, considering all that was at stake. He also had not expected her breasts to be so lush, or her ass so tight.

It was impossible to tell everything from an old yearbook photo.

But now came the difficult part. He would bed her again, commiserate with her as much as he had to in order to keep her distracted.

It was the others he now had to worry about now.

The man glanced at his wristwatch and pressed down hard on the pedal.

Chapter 12

Max brought along a new, hi-tech case for her gun when he picked her up for dinner. He told her she should keep the gun in it, and lock the case in her bedside table.

Under his watchful eye, Jill did as he asked, but she was nervous having it next to the bed. She decided she would move it back to the closet tonight. It would not be all that handy, but she would feel safer having it in another room.

Her dad always said more gun owners shot themselves by accident than got shot by intruders, and to always keep the ammunition separate.

Jill told Max she wanted to stop and see Dorothy before they went to dinner, and he agreed to come in with her. It was late for her mother to have a visitor, particularly someone she had not laid eyes on for years, but in the evening Dorothy was calmer than in the morning.

They navigated the lock on the door, and nearly let Sandy Jeeks, the resident she and Dave had met last week, sneak out the door.

“Don’t hold the door open,” Jill said to Max when Sandy approached. “She isn’t allowed out without an escort.”

“Oh.” Max blocked the door with his body and smiled at Mrs. Jeeks. “Sorry, ma’am. Why don’t I walk you back to your room?”

“Aren’t you a handsome devil?” Mrs. Jeeks held out her arm and let Max walk her toward the lounge. She rushed off back toward the door when it opened, winking at Max.

“She’s a handful,” Max said.

“I don’t blame her for trying to break out of here,” Jill said.

They found her mother in the brightly lit TV room, seated in a recliner, her head back, a few wheelchair-bound residents clustered like dozing pigeons around her. A DVD of an old Glenn Campbell special was playing loudly.

“Appropriate,” Jill commented. “Campbell fought Alzheimer’s for a long time before he retired, but he still remembered his songs.”

“The brain is such a mysterious organ.” Max touched his head. “I sit and concentrate and try to control mine, but it does not follow my directions.”

“That’s true for all of us sometimes.” Jill put her hand on Dorothy’s shoulder. “Hey, Mom.”

Her mother’s eyes opened and she stared right at Jill. She blinked to clear her sleepy vision. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Mom. How are you?”

Dorothy squinted and fumbled around with her hand at her neck, feeling for her locket. “What day is it?”

“Wednesday.” Jill leaned closer. “It’s Jill.”

“Jill.” Dorothy said her name as if it were a word in a foreign language.

“I brought an old friend to say hello. It’s Max. Max Kallstrom. My boyfriend from college. Do you remember how he made Swedish potato salad for you a long time ago?”

“Hello, Mrs. Farrell.” Max sat next to Dorothy, at eye level to the recliner. “How are you?”

Dorothy stared at Max and, after a long moment, her mouth began to twitch. Slowly she reached her hand out as if she would touch him, but it hovered, trembling in the air. “Is it really you?” she whispered.

Jill’s eyes stung and she bit her lip.

Max took Dorothy’s hand in his and kissed the top of it. “It is me. Do you think I look different now? Maybe I need a haircut? You look the same as the photographs Jill has at her house, though,” he said. “Your blue eyes are as lovely as the sky.”

Dorothy smiled then, a real smile, the smile of a woman who had been flattered by a handsome young man.

But then she shuddered and pulled her hand away, holding her arms close to her side, as if she was cold. “Buketa, buketa, buketa. Go away. Scat.” She made a hissing sound and turned to Jill. “I don’t like this.”

Max and Jill drove in silence down the Pacific Coast highway toward Gaviota, to a restaurant recommended by the concierge at his hotel. He reached for her hand and she squeezed his, but withdrew it from his grasp.

“It’s never going to get any better for her.” She crossed her arms over her chest to keep herself warm.

“There aren’t any drugs to help stall the progression of her memory loss?”

“No. The drugs they give her cause strokes and fatigue and hallucinations. They are worse than useless.”

“I’m so sorry. It’s grim,” Max said softly. “Are you okay financially? I mean, I could look over your books if you like. Give you some free advice about investments.”

Jill swallowed, as Andrew’s warning that she should worry if someone was interested in her finances skittered along the edge of her brain. “I think we’re good. Dad’s lawyer’s had everything buttoned up pretty tight. But thanks.”

The drove for several minutes in silence, the classical music station playing softly in the background. Outside the car, the ocean was grey and choppy at water’s edge, and clouds blocked the setting sun. Pale purple and orange glimmers flickered at the edge of the horizon, looking more like fire than fire.

Jill shivered. “I’m getting hungry. Is it much farther?”

“No. It’s right up ahead. The food is supposed to be great. Simple but great.”

“Sounds like what I need tonight.” She turned and stared at his strong, sculpted profile. “Thank you for coming to visit Mom. I think, somewhere inside her mind, she did remember you.”

Max pursed his lips. “You don’t need to thank me. I wanted to see her. I’m sorry I don’t remember her, from before. But I’m glad to have gone tonight. For you as much as anything.”

“Well, it’s comforting to have company, but harder, too. I feel like I need to protect her. It’s hard letting people see her like this. I think she’d hate it.”

“It is what it is. I admire you for taking care of her, Jill. She’s lucky to have you.”

“She was a great mom.” Jill clenched her teeth.
Was.

Ahead a neon sign, ‘Sandals,’ burned blue in the dusk. Max made the turn into the narrow entrance, the car wheels crunching slowly across the shell-covered parking lot.

It was a tiny seafood restaurant with dining al fresco and locally famous brick-oven bread. They ordered wine and drinks and the smell of hot rolls and the taste of her cool wine began to relax Jill.

“So how did the Solvang meeting go?” she asked. It was time to talk of other things besides things that could not be changed.

“It went well. The man I met with is vice-chair of a foundation.” He named a tech company giant and raised his dark eyebrows. “They have a considerable amount of money they want to invest in the securities I am most versed in, although I’m not familiar with the foundation they are hoping to support. I’m going to do a bit more research, but it looks promising. How was your afternoon?”

Her conversation with Dave gripped her mind. “My day was fine.” Jill tugged at her hair. “I’ve lined up a bunch of appointments for Carly and I for a trip to the salon and some shopping.”

“You will amaze our classmates with how much you still look like your younger self. I’m sure of that.”

“I hope my hair looks better than it did in college. You saw those photos.” She frowned. “Are you dreading seeing all those people? And explaining what happened to you a hundred times?”

“I’m curious more than anything, I guess. But now, it’s not as important as I thought it would be. It’ll be a fun party, where I’ll have the prettiest girl from the class on my arm.” He winked. “You are going to attend all the events with me, aren’t you?”

“If you want me to.”

“Of course I do. It will be great for my ego.”

“Our female classmates’ appreciation over how fabulous you look all grown-up will be what’s great for your ego.” She thought for a moment of the shock, surprise, and interest people would feel seeing them together again. “It won’t be boring, that’s for sure.”

“Good. I hate boring,” Max said.  

After dinner, they wandered around the grounds of the restaurant, which bordered a national park. A sign for the hiking trail leading up to Gaviota Peak was nearby, so they decided to walk a bit in the starlight evening. He told her about his daughter, Olivia, and how she was a happy, shy child who had taken the divorce very hard.

“I make it a point to spend at least one weekend a month with her,” Max said. “I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

Jill smiled but said nothing. They headed back due to darkness, mosquitoes, and the fact that Jill’s flats were not cutting it on the trail. As they reached the edge of the parking lot, a few more cars had pulled in.

A man in a helmet and leather jacket was sitting on a Harley, as if he was waiting for someone. As they made their way toward Max’s rental, the powerful motorcycle engine started up, and the driver made a wide pass around their car and headed out into the breezy night.

He was familiar somehow and she squinted at his retreating form.
Where did I see that bike?
It had an unusual blue flame pattern on the engine cover that she was sure she had seen before.

“We should do this another time in the daylight,” Max said, coughing as the dust kicked up. “We’ll get you some proper hiking boots and bring a picnic.”

“We should.” She pushed aside the mystery of the guy on the bike. “When are you going back to France, by the way?”

“My ticket is for next Wednesday.”

A week. He’s leaving in a week.
“You fly to New York, then direct to Paris?”

“All the flights stop at Heathrow, but I’m going to Marseilles this trip. It’s Olivia’s birthday on the 24
th
, so I’m going to spend a week there. Then home to Paris.”

“It seems a million miles away,” she murmured.

“No. It is 6,061.”

She chuckled as they reached the dusty parking lot at the restaurant. “You know the exact miles?”

“Yes. I get bonus miles, remember?”

“Not bonus kilometers?”

“No. But that would be,” Max paused. “9,754.” He grinned. “I was always good in math.”

“I’ll say. I remember that from college, by the way. You took calculus. For fun, you said. I had no idea what the questions on those tests were even asking.”

“You were an English major,
ja?
Good with words but not math?”

“A cliché, but true.”

Max put his arm around her shoulders. “There isn’t anything clichéd about you.”

“Well, as I’ve said before, you don’t know me all that well.”

“Yet,” he whispered.

“Yet. And next week you’ll be six thousand miles away. So this will be it for us for a while.”
Maybe forever.
She felt pathetic for the sad tone in her voice.

“Not so long. I booked a ticket this afternoon to come back to the States in mid-June, and I left the return open,” he said. “I wanted to ask you what you thought about spending a couple of weeks together when you’re out for summer break. And plan a trip so you can come to Europe with me. When do you need to return for the new semester?”

“September.”

“Excellent. Maybe you can come for August?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t feel right about leaving my mother for an extended period of time. She needs me to come by and see her, I think. And that’s a lot of time, a lot of money.”

“Don’t do that,” Max said. “Don’t look for problems before we actually have some.”

“We? Before there is a ‘we’, both of us need to figure out a lot more things. I mean, where’s this we thing going? Realistically?”

“Wherever we want it to go,” he said quietly.

Jill pulled away. “I’m not asking you for any kind of commitment. I mean, jeez, I’m not willing to make any myself. It’s been less than a week. We’ve talked, got reacquainted, and become lovers, but we live in separate worlds, on different continents. You have a daughter who lives in France.”

Max put his hands on his hips and his voice rose. “What are you doing? Pushing me away? Trying to keep me from telling you I’m falling for you?”

A smile bloomed over what felt like her entire body. Somewhere in her heart, Jill knew she had been waiting for fifteen years to hear this from Max, even now, when a relationship was so impractical. “You’re being impetuous. I remember this about you. You got an idea in your head, and that was it. Common sense be damned.”

“I am being honest about how I feel. Are you?”

She put her hand on his mouth. “Don’t press. You need to learn, to remember, that I’m not like that. I’m like a tortoise. Slow and deliberate. I need to understand what’s happening, and think through how to handle it.”

“Think? Can’t you feel what’s happening?” He pulled her back into his arms.

“I do. All I’m saying is the smart thing to do is to slow down, not make any plans for now, okay?”

“No.” The look in Max’s eyes was intense. “I’ve lost too much time already with you. I’m not going to lose you again.”

“Well, that’s good news.”

“You’re good news,” he said.

Jill relaxed against him, abandoning practicality for the moment. She kissed him as the ocean breeze wound around them, unable to cool the heat from their embrace.

After a while, Max broke away and opened the car door. “You’ll come back to the hotel with me for the night,
ja?
”

“No, I should go home. Carly’s going to call, but more importantly, I’m sure she’ll come to the house early tomorrow. So no, but you could come in for a while. I still have brownies, if you’d like dessert.” She ran her hand down his pant leg and squeezed his thigh.

He grinned. “You’d have to use those bullets I bought you to keep me away tonight. And since I’ve heard you’re not a very accurate shot, I’d take the chance.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Yes it is.” He nudged her with his elbow. “You need to chill. And get into practice for what your friends are going to be talking about at the reunion.”

She sighed. “Isn’t that the truth? Okay, funny man, let’s get going.” She winked at him and slid into the car. When she pulled the seatbelt across her lap, she caught movement in the shadows outside to the right of where they were parked.