COLLATERAL CASUALTIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series) (11 page)

            “Have a seat, Miss...?” he said, as he sat down on the matching loveseat and draped his arm across the back. A slight sheen of perspiration on his forehead belied the casualness of the gesture.

            Rose remained standing. Her eyes quickly scanned the room for places a person could hide. The big potted plant in the corner maybe, but she doubted it. She was more concerned that there might be other employees elsewhere in the house.

            “
¿Ella habla español?
”

            The ambassador shook his head. “Annabelle, leave us, please,” he said in English.

            The young woman glided from the room, the sound of the black slippers on her feet almost imperceptible on the tiles.

            “Anybody else here?” Rose asked.

            The man arched an eyebrow at her, then shook his head again.

            Her right hand still on the gun inside her pocket, she pulled Rob’s letter out with her left. “I have a message from a friend of a friend.” Taking a step toward the ambassador, she stretched out her arm and handed the letter to him.

            He took his time reading it, then nodded. “I understand.”

            “If anything happens to any of my friends,” Rose said, “in addition to the consequences mentioned in that letter,
te rastreo y te pongo en una brocheta como si fueras un puerco relleno
.”

            The ambassador’s expression didn’t change as she threatened to track him down and skewer him like a stuffed pig. Rose begrudgingly admitted to herself that she was impressed.

“I understand,” he said again.

            “
Bueno
.” She turned on her heel and moved quickly out the door.

            Back in the rental, as Mac pulled away from the curb, Rose called the driver of the Ford Expedition parked further down the street. “Message delivered and received.” She heard an audible sigh from her partner.

~~~~~~~

            By Sunday afternoon, Kate was convinced that Mac’s insurance plan was working. She knew she would grieve for Miller for awhile, but she was happy to get her life back to normal.

            At a little after four, Skip was taking a nap and she was reading to the children when the doorbell rang. She got up and went to look out the peephole in the front door.

            At first Kate didn’t recognize the middle-aged woman in a rumpled lime-green pantsuit standing with her back to the door. The woman was staring off across the lawn. She ran a hand through short silver hair as she turned to ring the doorbell again.

            The dramatic streak of black above Janice Browning’s right temple was unmistakable. Kate threw open the door. “Janice–”

            “Sorry to barge in unannounced, Kate.”

            “Not a problem. Come in.” Kate studied her friend’s face with concern. Janice’s brown eyes were red-rimmed. Her mouth was set in a grim line that accentuated the wrinkles around it.

            “Skip’s taking a nap. I’ll wake him.”

            “Oh, don’t,” Janice protested feebly.

            “It’s okay. If he naps much longer, he won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Kate pointed toward the living room. “Entertain the rug rats for a minute, would you?”

            Kate headed toward the bedroom. The door opened just as she reached for the knob.

            “I thought I heard the doorbell,” Skip said.

            “You did. It’s Janice.”

            “Say what? What’s she doing here?”

            As Kate and Skip entered the living room, Janice was finishing up the storybook Kate had abandoned. Kate went over to the television and picked out a video she knew was a favorite. She didn’t like using the TV as a babysitter but sometimes it was a necessary evil. “Here, guys, how about you watch this while the grown-ups talk in the kitchen.” She put the DVD in the player.

            “
Toy Story 3
!” Billy yelled.

            “Inside voice please, son.”

             In the kitchen, Kate put the kettle on the stove and got out tea bags and mugs. Skip gestured toward the table.

            Janice sat down. “Bastard changed the locks while I was in Flagstaff.”

            “You’re more than welcome to stay here tonight,” Kate said.

            “I was going to go to a hotel. But I need some help with something first.”

            Kate shook her head. “No way you’re staying in a lonely hotel room. Not when we’ve got a guest suite upstairs. That’s ridiculous.”

            Janice gave her a small smile. “Thanks, I’ll take you up on that offer then. But I was hoping Tex here knew someone who can pick locks. I want to get my personal belongings out of the condo before Richard decides to destroy them, if he hasn’t already.”

            “He’s not home?” Skip asked.

            “Wasn’t when I got there, but he might be by the time I get back... Thanks,” Janice said as Kate handed her a mug of tea.

            “Sugar? Milk?”

            “This is fine. I like my tea straight up.” Janice blew on the steaming liquid, then took a sip.

            “Are your things worth a showdown with Richard?” Kate asked. The woman looked done in.

            “My photo albums. Things that belonged to my mother and grandmother. Oh, yeah, they’re worth it. He took away my chance of having children. He’s not getting my childhood, too.” Her voice broke. She cleared her throat. “Sorry.”

            “No need to apologize,” Kate said as she took the portable phone from its charger on the counter. She punched in a number.

            “Hey Mac,” she said when he answered. “Do you know Janice Browning?”

            “Yeah, I’ve worked a couple of her cases with Skip.”

            “She’s got a problem you could help with. Are you busy right now?”

            “Nothin’ can’t wait ’til later. What’s up?”

            “We’ll explain when you get here. Bring your lock picks, please.”

            “Okay if Rose tags along?”

            “Sure. She may be able to help as well.”

            Kate disconnected and turned to Skip. “There are some broken-down boxes in the basement. Could you get them, sweetheart?”

            “She don’t mess around, does she?” Janice said to Skip.

            He grinned as he headed out of the room. “I think she was a drill sergeant in a previous life.”

            Kate pulled a roll of plastic trash bags out from under the kitchen sink. “These’ll work for your clothes.”

            “You all don’t need to help. I just need the services of your lock-picker.”

            Kate sat down again. In a gentle voice, she said, “You look exhausted. What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t help you deal with this?”

            Janice’s upper lip trembled. A couple tears broke loose. “Now see what you’ve done. You’ve got me blubbering like a baby.”

            Resisting the urge to point out it was okay to cry, especially under the circumstances, Kate got up to get a box of tissues off the counter. “Why don’t you get your things from the car.”

            Janice just nodded as she wiped her eyes.

            Kate went upstairs to check the guestroom. She put fresh towels in the adjoining bathroom. When she came back down, Janice was standing near the front door looking lost, a wheeled carry-on at her feet. Kate’s heart ached for her. She’d walked the path of divorce with clients enough times to know that things were going to get worse before they got better.

            The kids’ giggling at the antics of the animated toys on the TV brought Janice out of her reverie. “Where am I hangin’ my hat tonight?” she asked Kate.

            “I’ll take that up for you. Why don’t you finish your tea?”

            When Kate came downstairs again, Mac and Rose were now gathered around the kitchen table with Janice and Skip. The latter had cobwebs in his hair. A half dozen flattened boxes were leaning against the wall.

            “What lock we pickin’?” Mac asked.

            “The one my son-of-a-bitch husband put on my home while I was out of town,” Janice answered.

            “Is hubby likely to be home?”

            “Don’t know. Is that a problem for you?”

            “Not really,” Mac said. “Just like to scope out the job ahead of time.”

            “It’s not illegal, by the way, to break into your own home.”

            “Rose, would you mind watching the kids,” Kate asked, “so I can go and help Janice pack her things?”

            “Kate, you really don’t need to–”

            “No problem,” Rose said.

            “Let’s get this show on the road.” Kate stood up before Janice could protest further. Rose followed her into the living room. “Aunt Rose is going to watch the movie with you. Be good. Daddy and I’ll be home soon.”

            “Okay, Mommy,” Edie said.

            “Can we have ice cream after the movie, Aunt Rose?” Billy wheedled.

            Rose rolled her eyes. “Do I look like I was born yesterday, kiddo? You haven’t even had your dinner yet.”

            Kate hid a smile and turned toward the door. “Leftovers in the fridge,” she said back over her shoulder.

            “You owe me, Kate,” Rose called after her.

            “What does she mean?” Janice whispered to Kate. “
I’m
the one who owes her, all of you.”

            “That’s not what she means,” Kate whispered back. “She’d rather be going with us than babysitting. She’s annoyed ’cause she’s missing out on the action.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

            Janice and her helpers were almost to the elevators in the lobby of her building when Mac glanced back over his shoulder. Skip followed his line of vision. An average-sized, middle-aged man, dark hair too uniform to be anything but dyed, had come through the entrance. He was wearing an expensive business suit and a tanning-salon tan.

            “Uh, oh. Here comes Richard,” Skip said in a low voice.

            They hustled the rest of the way to the elevators. Janice slipped a key into a keyhole in the middle of the metal plate next to one of them. The door slid open. “Quick, everybody in.” She put the same key into a slot where the floor buttons normally would be. The door closed just as her husband got to them.

            When the elevator reached the top floor, Janice turned the key in the slot again. “That locks it up here, but that only buys us a few minutes. He’ll take the regular elevator to the floor below and hoof it up the fire stairs.”

            They raced down the hall. There were four doors, two on each side. “Which one?” Mac asked.

            “Last one on the left.”

            Mac popped the lock just as the fire door at the other end of the hallway flew open. Richard Browning stormed through it, cell phone in hand. “I’ve already called the police. I’m having all of you arrested for breaking and entering.”

            Janice let out a short bark of laughter. “Richard, you are just too amusing sometimes.” She entered the apartment and pointed Kate toward the master bedroom. “Closet on the right is mine.”

            Richard puffed out his chest. “I suggest you all get out of my home right now, or you’ll be spending the night in jail.”

            “Oh shut up, Richard. The cat here knows more about criminal law than you do.” Janice leaned over and scooped up an orange tabby. “This is my condo too and these folks are here as my guests.” Ignoring her husband’s spluttering, she headed down the hall to her study.

            Richard started to follow her. Skip stepped into his path. “Settle down, man. She just wants her things.”

            The shorter man took a step backward. An awkward silence reigned in the living room for a few minutes. Then Richard sneered, “I should’ve known Janice’s pet private dick would come to the rescue.”

            Kate had just come out of the bedroom, carrying a lumpy plastic bag. Skip caught the flash of anger in her eyes. He gave her a slight shake of his head. The goal here was
not
to escalate the situation.

            Janice came out of the study, the cat in its carrier in one hand, a bulging briefcase in the other. She put both down on the floor near the door and pulled a clump of papers out of the briefcase. Handing them to Skip, she said, “Deed of trust to the condo, in both names. Be a love and wave it at the cops when they show up.”

            Skip hid a smile. Janice seemed to be getting a second wind. Nothing like a little anger to get the old adrenaline pumping.

            Janice turned to Kate. Pointing to the carrier in which the cat was meowing miserably, she said, “I can take Peaches to a kennel if you all don’t want her at the house.”

            “She’s welcome too, but the kids may not give her back when you leave.”

            “Cops coming,” Mac said from his post by the open door.

            They all turned toward him just as two uniformed police officers appeared in the doorway. Richard started across the room but Skip cut him off, blocking his path long enough for Janice to get there first.

            “Good evening, officers. What we have here is a minor domestic issue. The jerk standing behind my friend over there is my soon-to-be-ex-husband.” Janice stepped over and took the papers from Skip’s hand. “Deed to the condo, both our names on it. But the asshole can have it. Let him try to pay the mortgage on what he makes. I’m just clearing out my belongings.”

            The older of the two officers took the papers from Janice and started to look them over. Kate headed back to the bedroom.

            “Mac, there’s a box of papers in the study. Would you mind getting it, please?” Janice asked. Mac headed down the hall.

            “Can I see some ID, ma’am?” the senior officer said.

            “Sure thing.” Janice dug her wallet out of her purse and handed over her driver’s license.

            Skip’s attention was on the officers when he felt a flutter of movement behind him. In the next instant, his hand was wrapped around Richard’s wrist. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”