Marshmallow S'More Murder (Merry Wrath Mysteries Book 3) (4 page)

BOOK: Marshmallow S'More Murder (Merry Wrath Mysteries Book 3)
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"How did you hear about that?" Between Maria and Mom I wondered if there'd been a story in
The
Washington Post
: "Iowa Scouts Destroy Hotel Pool—25 Dead. Terrorists Suspected."

"It was all over the country club, darling!" She smiled, and I knew that she wasn't worried about the girls here. Just how good was the Irish Ambassador's son? Did he have crowd-control training? Riot gear?

"Your father told me about tomorrow," she said quietly. "Are you sure about this?"

I explained the whole story—about Riley's phone call and Maria's assistance. Mom nodded appropriately.

"I always liked Riley," she said when I finished. "I never trusted him, but I liked him."

"He's not dead, Mom. At least, I don't think he's dead." I was a little creeped out by her using past tense.

Mother straightened a lock of honey gold hair that wasn't even out of place. I could never remember my mother in a state of distress or undress. Her thick, blonde hair was always silky shiny and perfect. Mine was curly, dull, and unruly. I'd have to ask her what she used. Maybe it wasn't bad genetics—just bad hair products.

"So tell me about Rex and Philby." She smiled.

Mom didn't know much about Rex, and she'd never met him. She seemed overly happy that I had a boyfriend in a way that made me itch. I couldn't remember ever bringing a boy home to meet the parents. I hadn't dated at all in high school and barely in college.

Of course, they'd met Riley on a few occasions. Everyone had been polite, but there had been an undercurrent I couldn't put my finger on until Mom mentioned it just now. I knew they'd like Rex. He was far more approachable and seemed like a regular guy. The two men also looked completely different. Rex's short, dark hair and quiet demeanor were a complete contrast to Riley's outgoing California style. Riley had worked hard to cultivate that look. Most people would have been shocked to know he grew up in a tiny town in Indiana.

Philby was my cat. She looked like Hitler. I mention that again because it's something that still surprises me every time I see her. Fortunately, it was just her appearance that matched—she showed no sign of megalomaniacal despotic tendencies. Well, not yet…

My cell rang. What weirdly unbelievable timing.

"Hi, Rex," I said as he grinned back at me on FaceTime. That man could really make me melt in all the right places.

"Hey, Merry." He held up a huge cat that looked dubiously at me. "Philby says hi."

Philby belched loudly then let out an annoyed
meoooooooow.
Rex set him down.

I introduced my boyfriend to Mom, and the two of them exchanged the usual small talk. It was a strange way to introduce Rex to my parents but oh well. When you were a spy, you took these opportunities as you got them. When I thought of the men I'd dated in the field, Rex was certainly an acceptable improvement.

Not that I'd dated a lot when on assignment. There were fake dates and real ones. The fake dates were usually developed to infiltrate a state dinner or something like that. I'd dated Riley briefly. And there'd been one or two guys after that, but none of them took. Mostly because you move around a lot when you're an operative. You might spend a month in India then a couple of weeks in Spain. Trying to make a relationship work under those conditions is impossible.

So, I had the one or two nights out, complete with texting and phone calls. It always ended awkwardly with one of the two people leaving for somewhere else. I never took dating seriously then for that very reason. Well, except for Riley—but even that had a bad ending.

Dating Rex was completely different. It didn't help that our relationship started with lies about who I was. Fortunately, he accepted me once he knew the truth, and things had gotten kind of serious. Over time, I let my guard down and started to enjoy being with someone. Besides, he lived across the street, and we both owned our houses. Neither of us was going anywhere else anytime soon. Even though it took me a while to get used to, I liked that.

"Kittens!" Mom clapped her hands with glee as three little faces crowded onto the screen. Philby had had kittens recently—one white, one black, and one that looked like Elvis with little black sideburns on her white face. She was definitely the 1970s Elvis with her little potbelly.

"Oh, you have to let me have one," Mom pleaded.

"Really?" I asked. "Since when did you like cats?" We'd never had so much as a dust bunny when I was growing up. I had assumed Mom hated animals. I guessed I was wrong, unless she was going to sacrifice it to Satan. Hmmm… I should have probably had Maria run a background check.

"I've always loved cats. But your father doesn't. So I'll take one. Can I have the black one?"

What? Was there trouble between my parents? Why else would she want something that would drive Dad nuts? I'd have to interrogate her later.

"Okay. Once they're weaned you can have him," I said, taking the phone back. "Rex?"

The cat and her kittens disappeared, and my beyond-handsome-and-amazing boyfriend popped back on the screen. My stomach felt light, and I could feel my cheeks warming up. He really was incredible. I wished he were here with me. I didn't know if he could handle the girls, but he might have had some ideas on Riley. Or maybe he could just talk me out of dealing with it altogether. It would've been nice to have someone tell me to hand it over to the CIA and leave it alone.

"I've got to go. But I'll call you tonight, okay?" I hated cutting him off, but I had to check on the girls. In all likelihood, they were now holding Maria and the lifeguard captive.

"Alright," Rex said with a smile. "And you can fill me in then on how your troop got kicked out of the hotel pool." He hung up before I could ask him anything. Did everyone know about that? I'd have to check the internet later to see if one of the girls posted a video. Rex was a good detective, but I couldn't figure out how the intel got to Iowa so quickly.

In a way, I was lucky my boyfriend didn't give me a hard time about it. He didn't have any qualms about my past—well, except for the inconvenience of having dead guys showing up on my doorstep. Somehow though, I knew he wouldn't be happy that Riley had asked me for help. Rex would consider that unprofessional. He'd be right, of course, but civilians didn't really understand how spies operated. We had few friends and were very loyal to our colleagues because in the field that's all we had.

I had very strong feelings for Rex too. We'd been dating for almost a year now, and it was going well, except that it was going slowly. Not that I'm in a hurry to take the step to the next level—we dated, and he was cat-sitting, but we maintained our separate residences, even if they were only across the street.

Something inside me wanted to take this further. Maybe it was because of years in the field, on the road, with relationships that lasted as long as Minute Rice. Maybe I was ready for a full-blown, serious commitment. Not marriage. I wasn't quite ready for that. And I didn't mean moving in together. There was no way I was ready for that.

Wait… So what did I mean exactly? We saw each other regularly and were monogamous. He sent me cards and flowers. He even introduced me to the guys at work as his girlfriend. So why did I feel like something was missing? Kind of like we'd skipped a step in the
Relationship Handbook
. Was there a
Relationship Handbook
? That would come in handy. I'd have to look that up when I got home. I wished Kelly, my best friend and co-leader, were here. She'd know what to do.

I shook my head to clear it. Kelly wasn't here, and I needed to focus on the problems I was dealing with right now—from Riley going missing to a rogue Scout troop. I could figure it all out on my own, right? I made my way to Mom and Dad's pool, hoping it was still full of water.

The Irish Ambassador's son was named Liam. And he was handling things very well, mainly because he was extremely handsome, and the girls were locked in his thrall. The kid was maybe twenty and had that athletic lifeguard body. Dark auburn hair framed a pair of bright green eyes. His accent was soft…just enough of a brogue that you could still understand him. To be honest, I was kind of hypnotized too.

"What's going on here?" I whispered to Maria as I pulled up a chaise lounge. All twelve girls were sitting at the edge of the pool while the attractive young man spoke to them in a soft, lyrical voice.

"He's telling them some folklore story about the water fairies. The girls haven't moved since he started speaking." I noticed that Maria said all of this without taking her eyes off of Liam. He was good.

I listened for a moment. "Can he spend the rest of the trip with us?"

Maria's eyes glinted. "I wouldn't mind that at all. But I doubt it."

I decided to slip Liam a hundred bucks when this was over. Maybe two hundred. He was definitely worth it. I wondered if he knew hypnosis.

My cell buzzed just as Liam was getting to the good part. I looked at my phone and froze.

"Maria!" I whispered.

She looked irritated that she had to take her eyes off of our Irish storyteller. "What is it?"

I got up and motioned for her to join me. We stepped away from the girls before I told her.

"It's Riley. He's calling."

CHAPTER FOUR

 

"Riley?" I asked as Maria and I slipped into the house. I put the phone on speaker and set it to record the call.

"Wrath…" Riley's voice was choppy, and there was a lot of static. "Help me… can't… much longer…" It was a terrible connection for a local call, which didn't make much sense.

"Where are you?" I asked. "What do you want me to do?"

"Ito… Ito…" His voice faded in and out. "They know… Get help… Maria…" The call quality was as rough as if I'd been in the Amazon. How could that be?

Maria's eyes grew wide. "I'm here, Riley! How can we help you?"

"Maria? It's… I… You have to…" Riley asked as the call ended abruptly.

"Do you think they caught him calling?" I asked as I stared at the phone. If they did, they'd know it was me. Did they know I was in DC? Would they try to find me? Were the girls in danger?

"I know what you're thinking," Maria said.

Wow. Could she read my mind? Maybe I should have her start working on the girls…starting with Betty. I'd noticed her studying my parents' pool filter system. We'd have to keep an eye on her.

"Don't panic. I don't think they've made a connection to you or we'd have noticed being followed," Maria said.

"Maybe I should send the girls home," I replied. "I can't let anything happen to them."

She shook her head. "I'm sure they'll be fine."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "We're using them as cover tomorrow! We'll all be on Japanese soil. There's nothing we can do if they decide to hold us hostage."

Maria frowned. "And create an international incident? No, they wouldn't risk that."

"But you found chatter about Riley at the embassy." She was making sense, but in this business, you had to play devil's advocate to see both sides.

She shook her head. "Japan is an ally. If someone on the inside is responsible for taking Riley, they're working alone. I doubt they have the government's backing."

Maria was right. The Japanese government was no fan of the yakuza. And kidnapping a bunch of little girls wasn't exactly in its wheelhouse. Besides, holding my troop hostage would only be a nightmare for them in ways they could never imagine.

I sent the recording of the conversation to her cell. "Is there someone you know who can analyze this?"

Maria nodded. "I'll send it to Abdul."

"Cookie Abdul? Why would you send it to him?" Abdul Jones had bought tons of cookies from my troop last winter. He wasn't a very good spy. In fact, he was pretty awful at it. The man actually showed up in a disguise with a fake name to buy cookies. Who doesn't want anyone to know they like cookies?

"Because he'd do it for more cookies." Maria grinned. "And his sister works in IT. Could you get your hands on more peanut butter sandwich cookies?"

"I guess so," I mumbled. "Okay, send it off." Abdul had better not blow this.

"Pizza!" Mom announced as she walked into the room with six huge boxes. She plunked them down on the breakfast bar and opened them. My stomach rumbled. I never could resist pizza, especially pepperoni. If I could eat pizza for each meal, I would.

After swiping steaming, cheesy wedges from the box, Maria and I followed Mom out to the pool and set up the food as the girls played quietly in the water.

Wait, what? The girls were swimming and splashing but calmly. Every few moments, they'd turn their heads toward Liam and giggle. He'd wave back, and they'd swoon. Oh yes. Two hundred dollars at least. I could afford it. My forced retirement brought me a very handsome payout. I wondered briefly if I could export Liam to Iowa for, like, forever.

"Cannonball!" A roar came from the French doors, and Senator Michael Czrgy, clad only in swim trunks, ran out onto the deck and jumped into the pool, causing a tsunami of water and squealing girls.

"Dad's home," Mom whispered. Did I detect a note of sarcasm? What was going on with my folks? Well, whatever it was would have to wait. I did not need one more problem on this trip.

"I think you're right," Dad said an hour later as Maria and I sat in his den. The girls were dried off, dressed, and watching a movie with Liam and Mom.

"The ambassador wouldn't have anything to do with organized crime. Someone else must be doing this without his knowledge. But I still don't think we should involve him. We'll just stick to the plan tomorrow."

Maria nodded. "I'll go check on the girls so you two can have a little time together." She smiled at Dad as she let herself out. "Nice to meet you, Senator."

I hugged my father. "Thanks for helping out, Dad. I really appreciate it."

"Well, kiddo, anything I can do to help, just let me know."

Michael Czrgy was every inch as handsome as his wife was beautiful. Sandy brown hair with green eyes, he was a force to be reckoned with politically. His demeanor was a bit different from Mom's. While he could terrify his enemies on Capitol Hill, he was really a big softie with a great sense of humor. They matched each other perfectly. If something was wrong, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was.

"I'm sorry to drag you into this," I said honestly.

"Nonsense. It'll be fun!" Dad slapped his hand on his desk, making me jump.

"Is everything alright with you and Mom?" I asked.

He frowned. "What do you mean?" I couldn't help noticing his eyes avoiding mine.

"That you didn't answer 'no' to that question." I folded my arms over my chest.

"Everything's fine. Don't worry about us." He gave me a look that I recognized as
this conversation is over.

But he'd said, "Don't worry about us," which meant something was wrong between my parents.

"I hear Mom got to meet Rex and the cats," Dad said. "She likes him."

"And you're getting one of the kittens," I added, trying to bring the conversation back around to the issue of marital discontent.

Dad frowned. "So I hear. Oh, well. Your Mom spends a lot of time alone here in this big house. I don't blame her. I just wish she'd asked for a dog."

"There's still time left for you to change her mind. The kittens aren't weaned."

My father ran his hands through his hair as he thought about this. "No, that's okay. Let her have it."

I studied my dad. Throughout my life as an only child, I'd never seen my parents disagree, let alone argue. They always seemed happy. The perfect couple. My mother never said anything derogatory about Dad and vice versa. In fact, they were far more likely to team up on me instead of each other.

Dad wasn't a senator when I was a kid. He was an attorney who worked long hours but still found time to spend with Mom and me. My mother was the perfect stay-at-home parent—the envy of the PTA and adored by everyone who met her. We took the usual family vacations a few times a year and always had a good time.

Most only children would tell you they wished they'd had siblings to commiserate with, but I didn't. This didn't mean my parents spoiled me at all. I had to have a part-time job, get good grades, and behave responsibly. If I screwed up, I got in trouble, and if I did well, I was praised. I couldn't remember any time when I'd asked my parents for a sister or brother.

My parents didn't demand that I go to an Ivy League school or major in law or medicine. They thought it was great when I said I wanted to go to the University of Iowa and major in International Studies. When I was recruited by the CIA, they didn't mind that either. But that was probably because they'd moved to Des Moines and Dad was launching his political campaign.

Huh. I guess I had a pretty idyllic childhood. There was nothing I could complain about. Was I being too sensitive in thinking something was wrong here? That could be it. I didn't see my folks often—just on holidays. Could be I was looking for something that wasn't there. I decided to back down…for now. I had other problems—twelve who were sitting a few doors down the hall.

We chatted for about half an hour more about nothing really before Mom popped her head into the doorway to say the girls were falling asleep. I felt a little sad to be leaving. For a few hours I'd had other adults to help with the girls. Evelyn Trout came to mind. She hadn't joined us today since Maria was around. The woman was probably getting a two-hundred-dollar pedicure at one of the spas near the hotel. Let her have her fun. When I needed her, she'd better be there.

Liam helped Maria and me get the girls loaded into our van. I slipped him three hundred dollars and asked if he'd be available any other time this week. He said he would be and thanked me before walking back to the Irish Embassy just a couple of doors down.

Back at the room, Mrs. Trout appeared to help get the kids to bed. She didn't look too happy when I told her we'd need her the next morning for the tour of the Japanese Embassy, but she didn't complain (something that made me immediately suspicious). Maria and I had decided that we'd confuse the embassy officials with three adults. In their minds, when the tour started, they'd see two, and in the chaos that would no doubt ensue, wouldn't even realize there'd been three originally. Maria and Evelyn would stay with the girls while I slipped away to do a little snooping. Besides, I was the only one who could speak and read Japanese. That made me the main spy for this little trip.

As I climbed onto the couch and pulled up the blanket, I wondered if I was doing the right thing. Female spies are the worst at second-guessing themselves. Male spies never seemed to have that problem. Why was that? They just blustered through their assignments and blew off the mistakes. I'd have to ask Maria if she'd had the same experience. Most likely, her answer would be yes. I closed my eyes and quickly fell asleep.

I ran through the hall to the staircase, ignoring the shouts behind me. Maybe I should've identified myself. Chances were that running away was foolish. After all, Riley was my handler. I didn't know he had a British connection here, but I wasn't surprised. As a field operative, I was only told the details of my assignment. Handlers usually had two or three agents working for them at any one time.

I took the steps two at a time, landing hard on the ground floor. The man who'd let me in attempted to stop me, but I clotheslined him with my arm as he came at me, and he fell to the floor. I jumped over him and was in the alley in seconds.

Maybe the woman upstairs was another agent of Riley's. If so, I might have some explaining to do tomorrow. I raced into the street and into the first cab I found. Barking out an address close to my safe house (but not directly there—that would be stupid), I slid down in the seat so anyone following me wouldn't see.

Get a grip! What are you doing? The question stumbled around in my head, looking for purchase on my slippery brain. Why would I even think about following Riley?

Oh yeah, I'm paranoid. That's it. If you're a good spy, then you're properly paranoid. That sounded confusing, but it was a legit thing. Properly paranoid fell just between "whatever" and "oh my God, I'm gonna die."

It always bugged me how James Bond walked around, undisguised, dropping his real name everywhere he went. The man never even attempted a disguise. Real spies didn't do that. Real spies got killed for that. Maybe I should go around saying my name is James Bond.

The taxi swerved through traffic, and after several turns, I felt it was safe to sit up in my seat. My phone buzzed with a text message that read
Finn, it's Riley. Can I come over?

Not a good time
, I texted back before stuffing my phone in my pocket. It wasn't unusual for him to request this—we'd actually started dating, and it was going well up until a week ago when I'd found him with another woman. The thought made me cringe. I shoved it aside.

Was that why I was following him? Oh, for crying out loud! I was jealous! And when I got a text from a burner phone earlier this evening, giving me only the address I was just at and saying Riley would be there, I'd briefly thought it was someone tipping me off to the other woman.

Damn. I had it bad. I tried to tell myself I wasn't that into Riley. That it was just a fling. Agents often did that under threat of danger to release some steam. And I knew, going into this, that Riley had lots of women in his contacts list. I'd been hearing whispers around the Agency for years.

But Riley was hard to resist. When he looked at you with those blue eyes and smiled, it was like you were the only person in the room. He had charm by the boatload. Too much charm.

My cell buzzed, and I pulled it out.

Please?
Riley texted.

No
, I replied as the taxi pulled up to the address I'd given. I slipped him a huge tip, putting my finger to my lips. The driver nodded and smiled before driving away. I walked the remaining five blocks to my rooms and leaned heavily against the door when I got inside.

Flicking on the lights, I spotted something that made me pull my gun and go into overdrive. There, on the table, was a piece of stationary from the Tokyo Grand Hotel. Written on it was a phone number. And it hadn't been there when I left…

My eyes flew open. I'd forgotten all about that memory. Hazy fragments from my first dream were hard to remember, but this one was clear as day.

Of course I was dreaming about Riley. He was the biggest thing on my mind right now. I guess I'd forgotten how much our little fling had hurt me. I pulled the blanket up to my chin and closed my eyes. None of this mattered anymore. I'd resolve my personal issues with Riley when I found him. Obsessing about it wouldn't do any good. Slowly and uneasily, I willed myself back to sleep.

BOOK: Marshmallow S'More Murder (Merry Wrath Mysteries Book 3)
12.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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