Mourning Dove (25 page)

“I thought he was leaving
tonight.” Pam stabbed a ring of purple onion and placed it on her bread plate.

“He’s leaving this
afternoon,” Sara added. “I was under the impression you were covering his
morning talk.”

“No way!”  Pam looked up
with panic in her eyes. “He never said anything to me. The only info I have on
it is what’s listed on the program.”

“That’s what we thought,
Pam,” Matthew said. “Not to worry, the three of us can present as a team.  Sara
pulled the information together for Pierce, she’s familiar with it. He wants to
go over the plan this afternoon in his suite. What I thought we might do is
have you introduce the piece; then introduce Sara. She’ll cover the mechanics
of corporate financial involvement.  Then you can introduce me for the
government end of things and I’ll carry it from there. You can finish up with
an introduction to the Q and A session at the end.”

“No matter what Jonathon
says this afternoon,” Sara added, “this is the way we’ll handle it. We can
hammer out the final details tonight over dinner. We can do this together.”

“I can’t, Sara. My son is
getting an award this evening at his soccer banquet. I have to be there.”

“Are you committed to any
of the workshops this afternoon?”

“I’m logistical support
for the NASA talk.”

“We can get someone else
to cover that,” Matthew said.

“I’m going to need a
written bio for both of you so I don’t look like an idiot at the podium,” Pam
said. “As long as you two are doing the informational part, I can do the
intros.”

“He’s at ten o’clock.”
Sara put her hand on Matthew’s forearm. “The waiter holding a water pitcher by
the exit door, that’s him.”

“Excuse me, ladies.” He
slid out of his seat and began to work around the outer edges of the room. A
short thin waiter with dark slicked back hair was pouring water into empty
glasses. Before Matthew could reach him, he disappeared into the crowd.

***

Late Tuesday afternoon,
Matthew knocked on Sara’s door. When she opened it she asked, “Where have you
been? I didn’t think I was supposed to solo this workshop.”

Sara looked delicious
with her ire up; face flushed rosy pink, her eyes glistening.

“How’d your meeting with
Pierce go?” he asked to slow her down.

“Without your support, or
Pam’s, I felt like a Christian in the arena with the lion. I can’t believe she
couldn’t find a replacement for logistic support for the NASA talk. I think she
just didn’t want to be in the same hotel room with Jonathon.”

“Did you tell him our
plan to use a tag team for tomorrow morning?”

“Nope, I just let him
fire off his orders about how the presentation should go according to the great
god of finance; then I gathered up all the materials and wished him a safe
flight.  Sometimes the best offense is avoidance. You still haven’t told me
where you were this afternoon.”

“You haven’t stopped long
enough for me to squeeze in a word. What are you keying into your laptop?”

“You’re changing the
subject, my friend.”

“Indulge me.”

“I’m working up Pam’s
introduction and the bios for the two of us so she doesn’t hyperventilate into
the microphone. Grab me a bottle of water from the fridge.”

“Who was your slave
yesterday?”

“Okay, you’ve stalled
enough. Where were you this afternoon, Matthew?”

“I went up to the fitness
club and had a look around the men’s locker room.”

“There was certainly
something fishy about that guy last night. What did you find?”

“Not a thing. Don’t look
at me that way. It doesn’t mean there isn’t something suspicious going on. Just
means he’s good at covering his moves.”

“What now?”

“I also stopped to talk
to hotel security. Interesting enough there is no security monitor in the
locker rooms.”

“Well, I should hope not.
I can imagine the entertainment if there was. They’d probably sell tickets.
What did you say to security?”

“I described this
employee and told them what we’ve observed. No employees are supposed to be
working in the fitness club beyond the first shift.”

“Then this guy is up to
something? What did security say about that?”

“They think he may have
been a guest.”

“I don’t think so.”

“That isn’t the only
thing I found out.”

“What?”

“Remember the older gent
I knocked down in the lobby?”

“Yes?”

“I asked security if
everything went well with him; if he was all right. And they don’t have any
record of an Alfred Carmody.”

“Didn’t they fill out an
incident report? They led him into that little office off the front desk. I saw
it.”

“The man gave them my
name and address from the card I handed him. They had a hard time with my
insistence that
I
am Matthew Farrell, not the elderly fellow.”

“But you’re a hotel
guest, for goodness sake. All they have to do is check their computers.”

“I know. I explained this
to them. I even asked them to check the hotel register for an Alfred Carmody,
thinking I could prove his existence that way.”

“And?”

“He never registered at
the hotel, at least not under that name. The desk clerk who handled my check-in
isn’t on duty or I could have verified my existence.”

“Well show them your
government identification.”

“I gave them my business
card, the same card they got from Alfred Carmody. I would prefer they didn’t
know my actual government title. They think he gave me his card. After I showed
them my driver’s license, we all came to the same conclusion that the old
fellow was rattled when they were taking the information down and put my
information down on the spot for his name and address.”

“Did he sign the report?
Some places ask for that.”

“I know. His scrawl is
unreadable. So they just chalked it up to human error. If he doesn’t complain
or file suit and they have their paperwork all in place, they don’t care. After
the report, they said he left the hotel under his own power and got into a cab
out on Michigan Avenue.

“Any how, I’ll be looking
out for the mystery employee. Something is definitely suspicious there. Of
course, now security is beginning to think I’m a kook with a habit of knocking
down innocent bystanders and imagining problems where there aren’t any.”

At a knock on the door
she said, “It’s probably Pam. I’m almost ready to print this; then you both can
look it over and see if there needs to be any changes.”

 “What is this pile of
paper over here on the bed?”

“All the research
information I dug up for Jonathon when I thought he was leading the workshop.”

Sara and Matthew scraped
up the last of the spice cake and reworked the presentation at least a dozen
times. “Are you finished fussing with this, love?” He caressed the soft side of
her neck.

“I just want to do a last
check on the Power Point slides. God, that feels good.”

“Mm,” he whispered just
before he began nibbling at her pulse points.”

“Matt, I can’t
concentrate when you do that.”

“Then, I’m doing my job,
love. Enough is enough.” He reached over her shoulder and clicked save.

“Matthew, I wasn’t
finished.”

He lifted his lips from
their foraging and whispered, “I like it better when you call me Matt in that
husky voice.”

He closed the laptop and
turned her around in the desk chair to tip her chin up.

“Matt, we need to finish
this.”

“That’s what I have in
mind.”  He brushed his lips lightly across her mouth. She tasted of orange and
cinnamon. He tugged gently on her bottom lip and she opened for him. His tongue
slid inside. She moaned her acceptance and wrapped her arms around his neck
pressing the fullness of her breasts into his chest. God, she was hot.

He lifted her into his
arms and brought her to the head of the bed. “Sara, sweet, I need to…” he began
to pull away.

She pulled him back.

“I know, love. I need to
clear us a spot first.”

They fell back onto the
paper littered bed. “Okay, maybe not.”

Minutes become seconds
and she reached above them pulling the pillows out from under, tossing them to
the floor.

“Matt, what are you?...yes,
that. I need that.”

“Yes, love; I do, too.

“Matt, hurry,” she
moaned. “Oh God, protection.”

“I know, love, give me a
moment.”

“You’re hot.”

“We’re hot. Look at me,
Sara.”

In moments they were
there again.

“I need you,” he said.

She looked up, all
sweetness and trust. “I need you, too.”

And he smiled.

***

Later, Sara heard
rustling paper and opened her eyes. “Matthew, where are you?”

“Go back to sleep, love.
I’m just going upstairs for a bit.”

“What time is it?” She
lifted her head to squint at the alarm clock beside the bed. She was suddenly
buried under an avalanche of covers.

“It’s eleven thirty.  Go
back to sleep.”

“I must have drifted
off.”

“We both did,” he mumbled
through the shirt he was attempting to slip over his head.

“Stay here with me,” she
pleaded. “I’m getting cold.”

“Sara, love, I only
brought two condoms with me and we used them both. I need to go upstairs.”

“Are you coming back?”

“Later. Close your eyes
and rest.”

And then it dawned on
her. “Upstairs where? Are you going to the pool? You are, aren’t you?”

“I want to see if that
guy comes back.” He pulled his pants up.

“I’m going with you.
Wait.” She rolled out of bed and grabbed the top cover dragging it with her to
the bathroom.

“Sara, it’s dangerous.”

“And my life isn’t
lately? Don’t answer that. I can either come with you or follow you up.  But, I
am coming.”

“And you did beautifully,
several times. This is different.”

“I’ll just be five
minutes. We’re both sweaty. I need to shower and I’ll be right there.”

“Damn it, Sara. Stay
put!” He clasped his watch to his wrist.

“What if you need me?”
She turned around and blocked his exit.

“I’m not going to win
this one, am I?” he asked.

“Five minutes,” She
pleaded. “The guy didn’t show until after midnight last night. What are you
doing?” He pulled the coverlet from around her body.

“We’ll shower together
and then go upstairs and stake out the pool. Although I think it’s a foolish
waste of water to shower before we swim, I’ll concede to your wishes.” He
turned her toward the bathroom and walked them in tandem into the shower.

“Matt?”

“Mm?”

“You want to take your
clothes off first?”

***

On the way up in the
hotel elevator with swim bags slung over their shoulders, he reached around the
back of his beltline, pulled out his 9 mm Glock, and checked his clip.

“Matthew?”

“Just in case, Sara. I
wish you’d stayed in bed.”

They entered the fitness
center, their footsteps echoing across the empty poolroom. He checked the
locker room, changed into his trunks, and slipped his gun into his gym bag.
Back in the poolroom he walked to the far side of the pool. He placed his bag
on the lip edge of the deep end hidden from the door and waited for her to join
him. In minutes she came out of the women’s locker room trying to hide her
curves behind a towel. They both slid into the water and waded out to the deep
end.

“Has he already come, do
you think?” she asked.

“I set a mini-cam up in
the locker room. Movement activates it and it was still set at zero when I
walked in.”

“When did you do that?”

“Shush,” he placed a
finger against her lips. She was incredibly beautiful in that swimsuit; his
body was responding again. He should have left her back in the room. If only
she’d stayed there.

“What if he doesn’t show
up tonight?” she asked.

“Then, we’ll try again
tomorrow night.”

He swam to the side of
the pool and reached into his gym bag. He pulled out a pair of glasses and
started to place them over her eyes. She pulled back.

“Trust me, love.” He
tucked the ends behind her ears. “What do you see?”

“A locker room?”

“Bingo.”

“Now what?” she asked.

“We wait. If he has a
pattern he’ll be here in,” he looked down at his watch, “ten minutes.”

He pulled her to him,
“Now where did we leave off?” He nibbled at her well kissed mouth.

“Matt, wait. Someone’s
coming.”

“Don’t move. No one can
see us from the door.”

“But the security camera
can.”

“Sh.”

Matt heard him walk
through the door, along the length of the pool, and stop. They’d been spotted. He
tried to smother Sara’s senses with his kiss all while damning himself for
being too far away from his gun. The kid snickered and he imagined a smug grin
on the kid’s face. A heartbeat later, the locker room door clicked shut. Matt
pulled away from Sara and slipped the glasses back on his face.

He could see the kid open
a locker third from the end and pull out a white packet. The kid squeezed the
package; then tore it open. In place of a stack of money, a pile of folded
white paper towels fell to the floor. The kid spun around looking for a set up.

Matt pushed Sara to the
far corner of the pool. “Stay here,” he whispered then heaved himself up over
the edge. He grabbed a white envelope from his bag then turned at the sound of
the door opening before he could grab his gun.

“Looking for this, kid?”
He held up the packet of fifties to a wiry young man with black slicked-back
hair wearing a fitness club t-shirt and black jeans.

“Hey man, let’s make a
deal, maybe a little party with your lady. There’s enough to go around.”

“I think you’re smarter
than that,” Matthew told him. “Hand over the product.”

“You don’t know who
you’re dealing with, man.” The kid smiled and pulled a switchblade.

“I’m talking to a scared
punk caught in a drug deal gone wrong. Between you and the exit is a federal
agent. Security is on its way. You’re on camera, kid.” He pointed to the
security camera mounted high on the wall and the kid laughed.

“That’s just for looks,
man. Nobody’s watching the poolroom after hours. And, you’re not the feds. I
saw you today. You’re a big shot in a fancy company with the hots for your lady
friend.” The kid nodded toward the pool. “Give me the money and I might let you
live.”

The kid took a step
forward. “Don’t do it, kid.”

They both heard the click
of a gun.

“My friend told you to
give it up. Put down the knife, nice and easy,” Sara ordered from somewhere
behind him.
My God, she’s going to get herself killed.

“Fuck you!” the kid
yelled and lunged for him.

“No!” she screamed. A
gunshot echoed around the room.

He kicked the knife out
of the kid’s hand and wrestled him to the floor. Flipping him over, he pinned
the kid’s hands behind his back. On the back of the kid’s right arm was the
tattoo of a swastika.

“Matt! You’re bleeding!”
She pulled herself out of the pool and grabbed a towel.

“Sara, I’m all right. He
just nicked me. Pick up the phone on the wall and call security.”

“Where’s?”

“By the door, but put the
gun down first.”

“I dropped it, I’m sorry.
I never fired one before.”

“Call security, Sara.”

Before she could move,
two men in blue uniforms burst through the door with weapons drawn.

The first man yelled,
“Everyone down on the floor!”

“If it’s all the same to
you,” Sara said in a shivery voice, “we don’t want to let go of the bad guy. He
knifed my friend before we subdued him.”

She was standing there
dripping on the floor and shaking like a quaking aspen.

“Officer, do you have
handcuffs or a tie strip on you? I don’t generally carry one with me when I
swim,” he said.

“I said get down on the
floor!” the first guard yelled again.

“I’m a federal agent; my
ID is in my gym bag on the other side of the pool. Help me subdue this kid and
I’ll show you my identification. My friend is a bit shaken; you might wrap a
towel around her and sit her down before she collapses.”

What seemed like hours,
but was just a few minutes later, Matthew walked over to where she huddled
under a pile of towels, curled up on a poolside chase lounge. She stared at the
blood stained terrycloth wrapped around his left forearm.

“Are you okay?” She
stroked his hand. “Now that the local police have left we need to get you to
the ER to take care of this.”

He smiled to erase the
worry lines on her face. “When we get
you
home, the first thing I’m
going to do is teach you how to shoot a gun without dropping it in the pool.”