Merit Badge Murder (7 page)

"Yes, well, it was a great idea, and it worked." My former handler grinned as he drove, his eyes on the road. "You were a good agent, Wrath. I'm sorry we had to get rid of you."

I snorted, "I was a GREAT agent." I had to admit—I'd missed the adrenaline rush from a mission. Stupid Vice President of the United States.

"You were
good,
" Riley corrected. "Don't get any ideas."

I leaned back into the leather seat. This car had all the bells and whistles. I turned on the seat warmers and then the air conditioner to counter it. Pure bliss. Maybe I should get one of these. I thought about my little car with the huge, terrorist shaped dent in it.

"So, we have a few hours," I said. "We should try to figure out what's going on."

Riley turned to look at me, flashing me an undies-melting grin. "It's kind of fun having you back. Even if it
is
temporary."

I swallowed hard. I'd been immune to his charms once. I could do it again.

"So what's Kelly's story?" he asked

"She's married." I blurted out. Where had that come from? Was I jealous? No. Clearly this was from being alone for the past year. I needed to get this case cleared up so Detective Handsome across the street could ask me out.

I took a deep breath. "We've been friends forever. I totally trust her. And she was with me when I found Ahmed."

Riley nodded. "And that's where it all began. With Ahmed Maloof. That's where we need to start."

"You have access to the CIA files. You'd have more information than me. Didn't you find anything on him? When he disappeared? Travel records? Anything?"

"He was on the No-Fly List. He shouldn't have been able to enter the country without us knowing." Riley frowned.

"So someone brought him here…smuggled him in. It's not that unusual. I've been smuggled into lots of places." The worst was Canada. Do
not
allow yourself to be smuggled into Canada.

"This is different. I can only assume that Ahmed, Carlos, and Midori were brought here by force. I don't think they would've come on their own."

"What if they wanted to come here? What if they were lured here for the promise of something?" I asked.

"Like what? What would each of them want that would bring them to Iowa?" Riley shook his head. "The only thing we do know is that they were all killed here."

I studied him. We were on our way to some Japanese grocery store near Chicago to dump a body. We were working CIA tradecraft in our own country. Why?

"Why were you assigned to this case?" I asked.

Riley looked at me, then back at the road. "I volunteered."

I sat there, stunned. "You volunteered? For this? I was your biggest pain in the ass. Why would you want to help me?" That wasn't like Riley. He wasn't the kind of guy who'd just step up and take on a seemingly impossible case.

"That's right. You were my biggest pain in the ass. You were also one of my best operatives. And I felt guilty about you losing your career."

There was that knot in my stomach again. I'd always assumed Riley barely tolerated me when we worked together.

"You felt guilty? You didn't do anything. In fact, it wasn't even about me. It was about Dad."

He nodded. "I know. But still. It wasn't right. Part of me hopes the Vice President opts out of Secret Service coverage when his term is up."

Riley wanted to avenge me? "Aw shucks Riley. Didn't know you cared."

"I don't. I just want this to be over." His voice went back to all-business again. I'd lost him, that weird, sentimental guy I'd just caught a glimpse of. Maybe he was bi-polar or something.

I settled back into the warming car seat and closed my eyes. Screw Riley. He could figure this out himself. I fell asleep thinking of ways to torment my former boss.

*  *  *

"Yeah. Okay. You too." Riley's voice woke me up, and I sat straight in the seat to find him talking on his cell phone. It was dark out and the car was moving slower now. We must be close.

"Who was that?" I said as I rubbed my eyes.

"Kelly," Riley said.

I stared at him. "
My
Kelly? You were talking to
my
Kelly?"

"She gave me her number," he answered.

"Kelly gave you her
number
?" I asked.

Riley turned to look at me. "You're repeating yourself. You know that?"

"Okay," I conceded grudgingly, "what did she say?"

"Half of the media pulled out of the neighborhood. Including your friend Blitzer. She thinks the story is winding down somewhat."

I frowned. "That happened fast. I wonder why they lost interest so quickly. Did your red herrings work?"

He shook his head. "Never got time to employ them." He squinted at a sign for the grocery store. We were really close.

"Did she say anything else?"

"Apparently she's had it with Lana. Our little Russian friend kept snuggling up to her husband. So Kelly took her to work."

My jaw dropped. "What? Kelly took Lana to the hospital?" Wow. It had to be bad if Kelly took her to work. How could Lana be so stupid as to flirt with Robert? I was going to have a chat with her when we got back. And by
chat
, I really meant something involving thumbscrews.

Riley shrugged. "We're here." He pulled into an empty parking lot. Although it was dark, all the lights in the lot were on. This wasn't going to be easy.

We drove around back and found a series of Dumpsters. Rats and roaches scattered the minute our headlights caught them. The smell was horrible—mostly rotting fish and probably sushi that had seen better days. I never liked sushi. I couldn't understand the appeal. Raw fish on fish eggs wrapped in seaweed just seemed like a bad dare some drunk in Japan had come up with in the eighteenth century for his wasted friends.

"Camera." I pointed at a mounted camera near the Dumpsters. We weren't in its range yet. My guess was they'd had other people trying to dump stuff here. People were so possessive of their trash bins. I once watched two of my neighbors get into a screaming match over one woman putting her bags in the other's bin. It came to blows. Both mother and daughter had to go to the hospital for stitches. No one should live next door to their mom.

Riley maneuvered the SUV out of the camera's range and around the Dumpsters to the other side. Now this area showed more promise. A dark, narrow area on the far side, hemmed in by a high, cement retaining wall. Up and over the wall were trees—some sort of little woodland area. No cameras. The only problem would be getting out. Only one car could fit so you went backward or forward. If another car came in, that exit would be blocked.

On the plus side, there were no cameras, but there were no odors—something I didn't think was good because the stink would cover the smell of a rotting corpse. Still we didn't really have any other options. I nodded at Riley, and he shut off the engine, and we stepped out of the car.

I pointed up above the wall. Riley studied it for a moment, then nodded. Putting Midori on the pavement meant she would be found as soon as people came to work. But stuffing her up over the wall and into the woods meant it would be days, possibly weeks, before she was found. Maybe years. It didn't look like anyone ever went up there.

I climbed the wall and hopped over it. Oh yeah. This was perfect. There was at least an acre here. Lots of heavy ground vegetation meant no one ever traveled through this place. There were no beer bottles, condoms, or trash of any kind. Most likely, people didn't even know this little forest existed.

I looked down at Riley and nodded again. We didn't speak. There's no point in doing so if you can communicate nonverbally. If anything was monitored, they'd only have visual. We weren't about to volunteer information that the authorities didn't need. Riley had done a good job removing the plates from the SUV sometime before I woke up. He had standard issue black stocking caps in the glove compartment. We all carried those on a mission to avoid leaving hair at a site, and they were quite useful when it was cold outside.

Riley dragged the suitcase over to the wall and gripping the handle, began to spin in a circle. As he turned, the case lifted off the ground. It was heavy. He was going to hurl it up here, like those hammer-tossers at Scottish Highland Games.

He was pretty strong. I noticed his biceps bulging as he spun. That man had a nice body. If he wasn't such a douche, I'd…

The suitcase came flying through the air and hit me in the stomach. I fell backwards onto the grass, the case on top of me. It started to slide down, but I grabbed it before it fell back down the wall, and hoisted it and myself up into the woods. I lay there gasping like a fish for a few minutes. The case hadn't knocked the wind out of me, but it did knock me down.

"Hey!" I whispered to Riley as he joined me. "That really hurt!"

"Sorry. You really should pay more attention to what I'm doing." The wicked grin on his face told me he'd seen me checking him out. My face grew hot.

"That's not…I wasn't…and you know it!" I stammered.

Riley winked at me, then scrambled up to the suitcase. I followed him as he dragged it a little farther into the trees and then watched as he wiped it down completely with a rag to remove our fingerprints. I found a branch with leaves on it, and as we headed back to the wall, I brushed our footprints and the drag marks away.

Back in the car, Riley drove out of the parking lot and up the street. About two miles away, he stopped at a closed gas station and put the plates back on the car. I handed him my shoes, and he took off his boots. We drove a few more miles before dumping our muddy footwear in a random Dumpster.

"That went better than I thought it would," Riley muttered as we cruised back toward the interstate.

"Except for you hitting me with the bag, yes." I was a little pissed about that.

"You need to learn to get out of the way." Riley chuckled. "You didn't used to be so distracted." I noticed he'd put an emphasis on
distracted.

There was no way I was giving him the satisfaction of thinking I was staring at him. "I was just trying to figure out what our next move should be."

"Right." Riley arched an eyebrow. "
That's
what you were thinking."

The bastard. I showed him by not talking at all on the way home.

We arrived back at my house a few hours later. Riley pulled into the hidden alley. He stopped the car and looked at me. I was furious with him and his pretty blue eyes. For him to imply that I was checking him out was…was…totally true—but he didn't need to know that.

Stupid, smug, gorgeous man.

"That was fun," he said with a smile. "Let's never do it again."

I laughed out loud—which made me mad at myself. Great, now he thought that I thought he was funny too. And I needed that like I needed a gunshot to the shoulder. I touched the scar on my right shoulder to remind myself.

Riley reached up and cupped my chin in his hand. I stopped breathing. His skin was warm and sent little shockwaves of heat through my body. What was he doing? He leaned closer, and I could smell his cologne. It was subtle—masculine and clean. The scent went well with his surfer looks—it reminded me of an ocean breeze.

His eyes locked onto mine. He really was hot. I closed my eyes automatically, and then I felt his lips brush…my cheek.

"Good job kiddo." My eyes flew open as he leaned back in his seat. He looked amused. I felt totally exposed.

Anger flared inside of me. I struggled to open the door—my fingers seemed to stop working correctly. I shook the handle, but it didn't budge, so I started swearing. The more I jiggled and failed, the louder and more creative my swearing got. Finally I got it open and, because I wasn't expecting the door to open, fell sideways out onto the gravel. It took a few seconds to get back on my feet.

"Just search the agency records on these guys!" I hissed as I slammed the door and turned on my heel to walk away. For a second, I thought I heard him chuckling. I kept on walking, never looking back until I got to the back, kitchen door. I fumbled with my keys until I finally got the door opened, then closed it behind me and leaned back against it.

I was a wreck. I was shaking. I was furious. And I had gravel in my shorts.

"Finny!" A familiar female squeal caused me to open my eyes. Lana sat at the breakfast bar. To my surprise, she'd changed out of her slutty clothes and into khakis and a T-shirt. Her voluminous, shiny hair was swept up into a pony tail, and I could swear she wasn't wearing any makeup (although she still was stunning, damn her).

"Lana." I stared at her. "How did you get back in?" I'd forgotten to give her a key.

Lana waved me off and got up, walking to the fridge. She pulled out the bottle of wine and poured two glasses, handing one to me. I took it gratefully and slumped onto one of the stools. I downed it like a shot. If I was going to drink wine like that, I needed to buy cheaper wine. There was no point in slamming the good stuff. Not that I knew what the good stuff was.

"I'm good with locks, Finny." Lana grinned and poured me another glass.

I nodded. "That's right. I remember that. By the way, nice job with the media assholes." I meant it too. For as much as she drove me crazy most of the time, she'd done well, and I wanted to praise her. It kind of felt like praising a dog. As if she could read my mind, Lana grinned and wiggled her butt with happiness. I struggled to control my gag reflex.

"It was so much fun! And then I got to meet Robert and go to the hospital with Kelleeee!" She giggled. "She had me go around with magazines for the patients. They were all so happy to see me!"

I'll bet. "Well thank you anyway."

She raised her eyebrows as she drank her wine. "Did you take care of the problem?"

I nodded. "Yup. All done. Where we put her, she won't be found for a long, long time. That gives us some room to figure things out."

"Midori was a beeeeetch. I hated her." Lana's usual one million watt smile was gone.

I straightened up, alert. "
You
knew Midori?" I guess that was possible. I mean, Japan was pretty close to Russia, and there'd been rumors for years that the Yakuza and Russian mob worked together now and then.