Redemption Key (A Dani Britton Thriller) (25 page)

“Yeah, well, if the Wheelers have decided to step up their game and move into weapons, especially weapons that could be used in domestic terrorism, you and I might be going to Cuba sooner than you think. We might get to be bunkmates at Gitmo.”

“Tell me you’re working on worst-case scenarios there.”

“Can you think of a reason not to?” Caldwell leaned back against the counter. He looked exhausted. “I might be totally wrong. I may have this all wrong from the get-go, but you’ve got to admit there is something rotten here. Something is not adding up. There are too many strangers without enough information. No matter how I look at it, no matter who comes into play, all eyes seem to keep turning back to your girl and I want to know why.”

“Can’t you go to your superiors and tell them about the deal with Bermingham going down tomorrow? Can’t you say you got a tip? Surely to God you’re not still trying to protect me and Jinky’s. The last thing I’m worried about at this point is having the law around.”

“I’ve told them. I told my supervisor and she told me she’d put eyes on it. Have you seen any eyes? Look Oren, you know I’m not stupid. I’m not paranoid and I don’t get my feelings hurt easy and I’m telling you that I am being watched. I am under the scope. Things are moving around me and I’m being kept out of the loop and that makes me really fucking nervous.”

“What are you going to do?” Oren asked. “What should we do?”

“Hell if I know. One thing you have to do is keep an eye on Dani.”

“An eye for what? All she does is run and clean.”

“And invite strangers to stay with her.” When Oren swore, Caldwell nodded. “Yeah, regardless of which side she’s on, it can’t be coincidence that she’s got all these new friends out of the blue. Maybe the Charbaneaux kid is her connection to the agency. His family has a lot of connections way above my pay grade. On the other hand, he’s known as the family fuck-up so maybe he’s using Dani to take a walk on the dark side. And no matter how you slice it, her tie to Bermingham is no accident. Ain’t nobody going to believe that.”

“So what’s her plan? How is this going to affect me?”

“Whatever she’s going to do, she’s going to deflect. If she’s Bureau or she’s dirty, she doesn’t want you looking at her or either of her boys. If she’s smart, she’s going to create a distraction, some kind of snipe hunt to keep you looking one way while she or whoever she works for gets their job done.”

2:30pm, 106° F

Tom had the decency to stay quiet as she led him to his room. In all of her nightmares, in all of her worst moments of terror, Dani had never imagined a scenario so surreal.

She was alone with Tom Booker once more.

And damn it if he didn’t seem nervous again.

So now she walked along the gravel path, hearing his light steps behind her. The sun pounded down like a hammer. The heat from the planked path made the air shimmer, and bugs droned in the bougainvillea.

She wondered if she would die under one of these bushes.

Whoever had checked him in had put him in Room One at the end of the unit. Past Bermingham’s room, separated from her shack by nothing more than a thick clump of sea grape.

Of course.

He didn’t talk. He didn’t stand too close. But she could feel his gaze on her as clearly as if he held her by the shoulders. He stayed back while she unlocked his door and Dani lost her nerve. She could not bring herself to step inside, to flip on the lights, and point out
the refrigerator and show him how to keep the shower from leaking. No matter how disciplined her thoughts, her lifelong habit of being of two minds at once wasn’t enough to let her close herself into a room with Tom Booker.

Maybe he sensed it because he gave her room to step away from the door before he went in. He hesitated in the doorway, looking into the dark space, the icy blast of air conditioning filtering out around him.

Dani watched the set of his shoulders, long muscles clear under his still-crisp white shirt. How did he manage that? Was it her imagination? He hadn’t looked cold in the icy rain in DC; he didn’t look hot or wilted in the humidity of Florida. She could almost convince herself that she was imagining him, that he was a ghost or a vision, if it hadn’t been for that whole trying-to-kill-her thing.

“Did they send you?” She didn’t know if she said it aloud.

Tom sighed, not turning around. “No. They don’t know I’m here.”

She believed him. One thing about Tom she knew, he didn’t lie to her. She was grateful he didn’t turn around. It felt easier to talk to him with his face out of sight.

“Why are you here?”

“To see you.”

“Why?”

His shoulders shifted, dropping a little as if exhausted. “Don’t you know?”

“No.”

“Oh.” He turned then just a little, just enough to see the fringe of his lashes, the slight downturn of his lower lip. She didn’t know that expression and he didn’t give her long to study it. “Oh,” he said again and stepped inside. When he turned back to face her, the sunlight landed squarely across his face, his eyes brilliant against the shadows. “Then thank you, Dani. I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Sure.” Later. Maybe when the Wheelers moored their boat and transferred the dangerous cargo to Bermingham, and who knew what other mayhem would ensue. Why not throw Tom Booker into the mix? “See you later.”

He closed the door and she stood alone in the heat, wanting to run.

Instead she walked quietly, carefully, down the planked path. She walked past Bermingham’s room, stepping into the wet sand and gravel of the lot to keep her passage quiet. Bermingham waited for her, she knew. He expected her to wait with him for the deal to go down. How exactly he wanted to pass the time she didn’t know. She thought he’d wanted to sleep with her but now it felt more like he just wanted to collar her. Like a selfish child with too many toys, he didn’t want to share her with anyone, even if he didn’t want to play with her.

Mental box open. Mental box close. This was not the time to dwell on that.

She crossed the short end of the inlet, rounded the corner and passed the shuttered windows of the bait shop. Reggae still drifted softly from above, a few voices could be heard from the bar. Peg had that under control. For Peg it was just another day at Jinky’s. Choo-Choo was off making a new life for himself on Casper’s boat. And once again Dani was on the run. Dani had no safe place to hide, no asylum, nobody bigger than the monsters under her bed.

But maybe she did.

She walked the path to the water’s edge where it disappeared behind a hedge of sea grape that matched the one by her shack. She stepped without looking over the debris hidden there to get to the path to Mr. Randolph’s house. He didn’t know what the story was with Bermingham. He thought she’d lied to him, but Mr. Randolph would listen to her. Mr. Randolph had given her a job and a place to stay. He’d given her a place to belong. He knew about dangerous people and helpless situations, didn’t he? He would believe her. He might not know the same fears she did, but he knew fear.

She climbed onto the porch, making a point of crunching the gravel and stepping solidly on the steps. Mr. Randolph was nervous. She knew this deal had put him on edge and she didn’t want to give any impression of sneaking up on him. This wasn’t the time for stealth. She called his name before opening the screen door. Guitar music played more loudly than she’d ever heard him play. Maybe he used music to get him through tense scenes like this.

“Mr. Randolph? Boss? It’s me, Dani.”

She heard footsteps, glasses clinking, and for a moment she feared he had company. She didn’t know what Mr. Randolph did in his private time. He never seemed to take any private time away from the bar. She waited outside the door, not looking in, and in a moment he appeared at the inside glass door. He opened it only a crack.

“What’s up, Dani?”

She clasped her hands, nervous at the distance he kept from her. How could she convince him she wasn’t the dragon to be kept at bay?

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Look, I acted like a jerk about Bermingham. You’re young; he’s good-looking. It’s none of my business what you do when you’re not working.”

“It’s not that.”

“Is it your buddy, blondie? I already told you, he can stay with you. Again, it’s none of my business. Casper said he’d give him a job, and if you two can fit into the shack, then be my—”

“It’s not that either. Mr. Randolph, can I come in?”

His hesitation made the words that followed it unnecessary. “It’s not really a good time.”

From where she stood she knew she could reach the carport in twenty seconds at a dead run. She could be in the car, get the keys from the rip beneath the passenger’s seat, and be halfway to Miami within the hour. She had thirty thousand dollars hidden inside the door panels; she could sacrifice what she’d left hidden in her shack.
She had two driver’s licenses she’d swiped from the lost and found at Jinky’s. But she had someone she trusted less than two feet from her and she couldn’t make him listen.

“I’m in trouble.”

Mr. Randolph snorted an unamused laugh. “Aren’t we all? This is the day for it.”

“No, it’s something else. It’s someone else. There’s a man. Here. He found me.”

“A man? Here? You know, Dani, most people can’t find this place with a map and a GPS. Suddenly we have a lot of traffic. Why do you suppose that is?”

Dani didn’t think she could answer him but the price of silence was too high. “Mr. Randolph, I know this looks really weird. I know you’re worried about the deal going down with the Wheelers; I am too. But this guy, this guy you rented a room to for the month? He’s like nothing you’ve ever seen. I know Bermingham has this reputation, but Tom Booker? I know what Tom Booker can do. I’m one of the people he tried to do it to.”

Mr. Randolph looked down, rubbing the back of his neck, and Dani could see the signs of her boss reconsidering. She didn’t dare breathe.

“Is he the one who shot you?”

She wanted to lie. She’d never be able to explain about the CIA sniper and her old boss and Booker with his horrible knives. But if she lied now, if he saw her lie—

“No.” He sighed and looked past her again and Dani rushed to explain. “But he was there. He was part of it. It’s hard. I can’t really . . . there isn’t any way I can tell you.”

“So you can’t tell me, but you want me to help you. Help you do what, Dani? Keep an eye on him? Maybe tell my buddy Caldwell about him? I mean, you do know what Caldwell does for a living, right? You know who he works for, what he does. You’re a smart girl. You pay attention, don’t you?”

It was so similar to what Bermingham had said to her just hours ago that Dani’s overworked internal alarm system set off yet another flash of caution. “It doesn’t seem like that’s much of a secret. Is it supposed to be? Do you think he could help me?”

There it was. Oren had never thought himself any kind of genius but he’d always considered himself a pretty decent judge of character. He’d had the lazy addict’s keen sense of who would fuck with him the least and he thought he’d never lost it. Shysters and conmen and users and chiselers, he’d seen them come and go and lost very little to any of them. And he’d prided himself on handling almost all of them with a friendly, sun-and-vodka-soaked charm.