ZERO HERO (The Kate Huntington Mystery series) (19 page)

            “Why not?” Dolph said.

            “Because this isn’t your mess.”

            “It isn’t yours either, son, but you decided to take it on.”

            The two men glared across the table at each other. “I make my own choices,” Dolph finally said in a low, hard voice. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me.” His tone softened. “I go downtown, with plenty of back-up, stagger around mumbling to myself. Let them pick my pocket, then stagger off.”

            Kate looked from Dolph’s face to Skip’s as they locked eyes again.

           
What the hell’s going on with these two?

            She had no idea but she decided to intentionally break up the battle of wills. She wanted to know how this was going to help Pete. “Is this likely to uncover anything useful regarding Jimmy Matthews’ murder?”

            “Won’t know ’til I get Frederico into an interrogation room,” Tyrell said. “Now that we know what he has to hide, I’m inclined to believe he didn’t kill Matthews. He wouldn’t want to draw attention to himself that way. But I’ll bet good money he knows who did the shooting.”

            “Why do you want to use a civilian for this?” Skip’s tone was challenging.

            “I suggested it,” Judith said. “We can’t use any of my people and all of Tyrell’s guys the hookers know are cops.”

            “The vice squad in the worst part of Baltimore doesn’t have any undercover cops?”

            Tyrell raised an eyebrow at Skip. “Got three,” he said in a mild voice. “One’s out on sick leave. Two are in the middle of other assignments.”

            “Freddie’s men have seen Dolph with me,” Skip pointed out again.

            “I’ll disguise my appearance some,” Dolph said. “I’d bet money that Donati’s man killed Matthews, out of fear he’d discover the more lucrative part of Freddie’s operation and want in on it.”

            Kate suspected he was changing the subject on purpose.

            Tyrell nodded. “Or maybe he did discover the identity theft racket. Matthews was a loose cannon. Naive, and he sampled his own goods too often.”

            “By Donati’s man, you mean the floater or the guy who came after Kate?” Rob asked.

            “The floater,” Judith said. “Pretty Boy’s his replacement.”

            Kate was trying to fit the pieces together. “So Donati’s man followed Matthews out to Pete’s place, somehow got his gun away from him and shot him with it.”

            “He might’ve seen them fighting that afternoon,” Rose said. “And figured Jamieson would make a good patsy.”

            “How’d he end up in the harbor?” Liz asked.

            “He shot Mac.” Skip’s tone had returned to normal but he was still frowning. “Frederico probably decided
he
was the loose cannon and got rid of him. Last time we talked to Freddie he said that he had, quote, ‘taken care of our problem.’”

            “So what we’ve got here is Dolph doing the sting, and then hopefully Freddie will spill his guts about who killed Matthews and shot Mac.” Rose gave her typical succinct summary. “The asshole’s already dead so case closed and Jamieson’s off the hook.”

            “And Freddie’s off the streets of Baltimore.” Tyrell turned to Liz. “Mrs. Franklin, are you willing to monitor the illegal website for us? The feds will be doing their own monitoring, of course, but I want to know what they know when they know it. I could probably get our geeks set up to do it...” His voice trailed off, implying that he wasn’t sure they were up to the task.

            “No problem, as long as you call me Liz.”

            Tyrell grinned at her. “Thanks, Liz. My lieutenant’s authorized consultant fees, but I’m afraid the rate isn’t very generous.”

            “Don’t worry about it. I have plenty of sick leave accumulated.” Liz grinned back at him. “I feel a cold coming on.”

            “It’ll probably be Monday, or maybe Tuesday, before I can get the fake cards and license. Let’s plan on doing the downtown operation on Wednesday. Liz, I’ll need you to start monitoring Thursday morning. Might take into Friday to catch them at it.”

            Liz and the others nodded.

            “Geez, does this mean we can have a normal weekend?” Rob said.

            Kate snorted. What she needed to do this weekend was anything but normal.

            After they’d seen the others out, she turned to Skip. “Speaking of this weekend, is there a way I can get out to western Maryland to see Pete?”

            Skip grimaced. “Be easier to set up a phone call.”

            Kate shook her head. “It’s hard enough to judge how people are doing emotionally when I can see them face to face. Over the phone, he’ll tell me he’s fine and I won’t know whether to believe him or not.”

            Skip thought for a moment. “It’s not safe for you to go out there by yourself.” He held up his hand when she started to bristle. “I’m not being over-protective here. I’m concerned about somebody tailing you to find out where he is. Give me a minute to think this through, okay... Rose is gonna have her hands full, with Mac coming home from the hospital tomorrow, and Dolph and his wife are going away this weekend.”

            “And Manny’s already out there.” She was starting to see the problem here.

            “Yeah, that’s pretty much everybody I totally trust to successfully spot and then shake a tail,” Skip said. “I’d have to take you. Which means asking Maria to watch the kids all day Saturday. It’s almost a three-hour drive each way.”

            Maria had just come down the stairs. “Kids had der baths. Dey ready for stories. What you need do on Saturday?”

            Kate was about to shake her head but Skip was already explaining to her in Spanish what they wanted to do.

~~~~~~~~

            Dave stretched his long legs out on the hotel bed and stared morosely at the muted TV. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in this bad a mood. Instead of enjoying his freedom from Nell and the brat, he was sporting a cast on his arm and spending his days hanging out in the smelly kitchen of a dive in Baltimore.

            He glared at the pint of whisky on the nightstand, but he dared not touch it until after the expected phone call from his employer. He picked up the bottle of ibuprofen instead. Wincing as he pried the cap off, he shook two out to swallow dry.

            Tonight, he hadn’t taken the Percocet the private urgent-care clinic had prescribed. He planned to get rip-roaring drunk later, and prescription pain killers didn’t mix well with alcohol.

            Plan B had backfired alright, just not quite in the way he’d feared. Canfield hadn’t come sniffing around the affiliate’s operation lately but his bitch wife now knew Dave’s face. He’d planned to intimidate her into not reporting his attack by pointing out just how easy it would be to get to her kids. But he’d never gotten that far.

            His juvie record was sealed and he’d managed to avoid arrest as an adult, so no mug shots in the system. And no distinctive features that would distinguish him from any other good-looking guy. Very few people in Baltimore even knew he existed. The chances the cops would catch up with him were slim, but he still didn’t like the idea that this Huntington-Canfield bitch could identify him.

            Anger ballooned in his chest–at her, at his dumbass employer, and if he was honest, at himself. He’d made too many assumptions.

            He started to reach for the whiskey, then stopped himself.

            Each night, when the inevitable call came, he’d managed to appease his employer, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stall forever.

            Not only was this whole assignment royally screwed up, he was pretty sure he was having some kind of crisis, at age thirty-five. What the hell was he doing? He had a wife and kid he didn’t want, to please a boss who was at least twenty IQ points dumber than him. Not to mention the asshole’s ‘what have you done for me lately?’ attitude.

            His cell phone chirped on the bed next to him. He picked it up and checked caller ID.

           
Speak of the devil.

             “Good evening, sir,” he said into the phone.

            “Is it?”

            His mind scrambled for the right thing to say. He finally settled on, “Moderately so, sir. The problem seems to have lessened, although I’m not sure it’s completely resolved.” He didn’t want to be called home yet, not with loose ends still dangling.

            “My affiliate is not happy. Says he doesn’t like having that, quote, ‘blue-eyed prick’ hangin’ around.”

           
Ask me if I care.

            Dave forced a fake chuckle into his voice. “I do believe my predecessor fit in somewhat better than I do.”

            “Has anyone besides my affiliate’s people seen you with him?”

            “No, sir. I keep a very low profile.”
As in, I stay back in the stinking kitchen!

            ¨We´ve had some strange activity on the website. Customers looking without buying. Could be some high school kid thinks he´s a hacker. Could be... the problem. The business is at a precarious turning point. A lot of money is at stake. It´s important that nothing disrupt things right now.”

            Dave waited, knowing there was more.

            “I´m contemplating going for Plan C, just to be on the safe side. I don’t like loose ends. Do you have the details worked out?”

            Adrenaline surged.
Hot damn!

            He did not have the details worked out but he wasn’t about to tell Mr. Micro-management that. “Yes, sir. Do you want me to move forward with it?” He held his breath. If he believed in God, he would have prayed.

            “Can you make sure it looks like an accident?”

            “Goes without saying, sir.”

            “Then yes, go with Plan C.”

            “Consider it done, sir.”

            Dave waited until he was sure his boss had disconnected before dropping the phone on the bed. “Yes!” He pumped his right fist in the air. He didn’t even care that the movement sent a jolt of pain through the other, injured arm.

            Just so happened his employer’s loose ends coincided with his own.

            Grabbing the bottle of whiskey, he struggled with the cap. Here he’d thought he’d be drowning his sorrows and he was celebrating instead. Of course, he still had to figure out how to pull Plan C off, but he’d worry about that tomorrow.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

            On Saturday morning, Kate was having mixed emotions. Guilt and anxiety on the one hand, excitement on the other. Not only had Maria agreed to watch the kids today, she’d suggested they stay over until Sunday and make a weekend getaway out of the trip. They’d both immediately said no, unwilling to leave her and the kids alone in the house overnight. Talbot, or whatever the hell his name is, was still out there somewhere.

            But Maria’d had an answer for that too. “I take
niños
to
Tia
Rita wid me.
Tia
have all dose empty rooms now her children gone. She be happy to have full house again.” Maria spent many of her weekends with Rose’s parents, visiting and helping her elderly aunt and uncle with chores and errands. It seemed like a busman’s holiday to Kate, but Maria seemed content with this routine.

            Kate had still been reluctant to dump the children on her and her relatives for the whole weekend but Maria had insisted.

            Now Kate was finishing up the packing while Skip was taking the kids and their nanny to the elder Hernandez’s house.

            It would be so good to have some time, just the two of them, after all the crap that had been going on lately. She put the last of her things in her overnight case and carried it out to the living room. Glancing at her watch, she calculated how long Skip had been gone.

            Assuming there had been no one trying to follow them, they should have arrived by now. Skip would be saying goodbye to the kids and trying to extract himself from Rita’s insistence that he sit and have a cup of coffee with them. Kate could almost hear Maria intervening, telling her aunt in Spanish that Skip didn’t want to have coffee with them–he wanted to go home, collect his lovely wife and be off on their romantic weekend together. Julio would let out a sly chuckle and give Skip an exaggerated wink. The women would laugh as Skip bid them
adios.

            A loud bang from the back of the house. She jumped, then ran for the laundry room door. It was securely locked. Hand over her pounding heart, she peered between the security bars over the window. Another bang. She let out a small shriek, then laughed at herself when she realized the March wind was knocking a large pine branch against the garage.

           
In like a lion. Out like a lamb, hopefully. We need to prune that tree.

            She tilted her head, trying to see more of the yard.

            A hand grasped her shoulder.

            Her shriek was much louder this time. She ducked out from under the hand and whirled around, bringing her hand up, fingers stiff, to strike at her assailant’s neck or face.

            The face in front of her registered just as Skip’s hand caught her wrist. “Whoa there, darlin’.”

            “Holy Mary, Mother of God.” Kate crossed herself. “I almost took your eye out. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

            “I thought you’d heard me come in,” Skip said.

            “That tree’s banging against the garage.” She pointed out the window. “And I wasn’t expecting you back this soon.”

            He chuckled. “Maria suggested I not come in. Said she’d make my excuses to Rita and Julio that we wanted to get on our way.”

            Kate patted her chest, trying to calm her still racing heart. “Everything’s packed and ready to go. Shall we?”

~~~~~~~~

            Skip took a circuitous route through Towson, actually heading south for awhile instead of north toward the Baltimore Beltway. He glanced in his rearview mirror again and frowned.