Silent Partner (23 page)

He glanced down at the briefcase again, this time warily, wondering if he should open it. It might be a bomb, designed to do away with him when they weren’t around. But that made no sense. If they were going to kill him, they wouldn’t leave clues. They’d shoot him in the head and bury him in a remote field, or tie cinder blocks to his ankles and drop him in the ocean ten miles offshore. A bomb and a blown-up body would give local authorities plenty to go on. And plenty of reason to call in the Feds.

He knelt down slowly beside the briefcase, groaning loudly. His entire body was sore from his having been hung by his wrists for so long. For a few moments he gazed at the dark case, then he flipped the latches and allowed it to fall open. As he surveyed the contents, he began to laugh. A deep hearty laugh that echoed among the trees.

In the moonlight he could see rows of hundred-dollar bills inside the briefcase. Stacked neatly one on top of the other. The original agreement had called for him to be paid a million dollars. As far as he could tell, it was all here.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“I don’t understand why you have to meet with him in person,” Tucker grumbled as he guided the Jeep through the darkness engulfing the isolated country lane. He had to speak loudly over the noise of the engine. “Why couldn’t you just send Lawrence a written report?”

“I need to update him on my meeting in Reston this morning,” Angela replied, checking the road ahead. She and Tucker were deep into the heavily wooded countryside west of Richmond, and she was well aware of how many deer were out here. Once a week, it seemed, she read in the newspaper about someone hitting one. And, since their brush with the elk in Wyoming, she had become much more aware. “Jake told me that he wants to stay close to this situation, and he wants to meet me in person in case he has questions.” Lawrence had called her directly—for the first time—this morning to let her know about tonight.

“Oh, it’s
Jake
now,” Tucker said smugly. “A week ago the guy assaulted you in Wyoming, and now you and he are best buddies.”

“What’s your problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you care so much about my relationship with Jake Lawrence?”

“I don’t.”

“You certainly seem to.”

“Nah.”

She smiled over at him. “Maybe a little jealous? Mmm?”

“Not at all. I just hate the way he can manipulate people so easily because he has so much money.”

“I’m not being manipulated,” Angela replied firmly, her voice rising.

“Yeah, right.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“I’m sure that without the possibility of changing your son’s custody situation, you’d be willing to go through all of this,” Tucker said.

She looked out her window into the darkness, wishing Tucker didn’t know about that. Wishing Lawrence hadn’t relayed that information to him. “What are you complaining about, anyway? So you have to take a little drive. You’re going to make money off this deal. I bet you called a stock broker right after you dropped me off in front of the Proxmire building this morning.”

Tucker grinned slyly. “No way. I’d never do that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Hey, I had to wait outside in the parking lot. How would I know what company you were talking to?”

“For starters, what about the big letters on top of the building that spell Proxmire?”

“Yeah, well.”

Angela punched Tucker’s upper arm gently. “Come on, how many shares did you buy?”

“Who did you meet with at Proxmire?” Tucker asked quickly, ignoring her question.

“The chief executive officer.”

“Really?”

Angela glanced at Tucker. She could tell he was impressed. “Yes.”

“And what did you talk about?”

“Stuff.”

Tucker snorted angrily. “Right. The dumb ranch hand wouldn’t get it anyway.”

“John, it’s not—”

“Save it, Angela. I understand.”

She gazed at him. He was a good man, and he’d been about the only one in this whole mess who’d dealt with her honestly right from the start. As far as she knew. “We talked about Jake buying Proxmire. How much he was willing to pay and what would happen to the CEO after the transaction. I needed to explain to the guy why Jake is so interested in Proxmire.”

Tucker glanced over at her and nodded gratefully. “Big-picture issues, huh?”

“Yes.”

There was a short silence. “Why
is
Mr. Lawrence so interested in Proxmire?”

“One of the company’s subsidiaries has a technology Jake wants to get his hands on.”

“What kind of technology?”

Angela checked her watch. It was almost ten o’clock. “You know, you ask a lot of questions.”

Tucker shrugged. “I’m a curious guy. So what?”

Jake had quickly become irritated at dinner when she had conveyed that she trusted John Tucker. She wondered if Jake was right. Perhaps she did need to be more cautious. “It’s a software.”

“What kind of software?” Tucker pushed.

“I don’t know.”

Tucker rolled his eyes and groaned. “Here we go again.”

“I’m serious.”

“Right. You and Mr. Lawrence have a three-hour dinner to discuss this and you expect me to believe that in all of that time you don’t ask what the software does? I haven’t known you long, Angela, but I’ve known you long enough to be certain that you’d ask that question.”

“I don’t know what to—”

“That’s all right,” Tucker interrupted, holding up one hand. “Don’t tell me. Hey, I’m just trying to learn, just trying to better myself. But maybe it’s best that I don’t know.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Look, I don’t blame you for doing a one-eighty on Mr. Lawrence. He’s rich and he’s good looking. He’s got it all. Just don’t treat me like a fourth-class citizen. Second-class is fine. Maybe even third. I understand where I fit into the grand scheme, I really do. Just don’t treat me like I’m some idiot who can’t grasp complicated concepts.”

Angela gazed at him for a few moments in the dim light of the dashboard lights, thinking about how different he was from Sam Reese. A simple man. A man who told you what he was thinking when he was thinking it. Not a man who manipulated you. Or used you for entertainment. But they sure shared that swagger. Slowly, she slipped her hand onto Tucker’s as he was shifting gears. “I’m sorry, John,” she said, squeezing gently.

“Ah, forget it.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay.”

He tried to move his hand away from hers, but she wouldn’t release her grip. “Tell me more about your family. You said your father was in the military. Which service?”

“Air Force.”

“Was he a pilot?”

“No. Nothing exciting like that. He was a grunt. Just a guy who pushed around spare parts and munitions.”

“Where was his longest stay?”

“Alaska.”

She could tell he was still irritated. “John, I grew up very poor. I would never treat anyone like they were lower class. I’ve been treated that way myself, so I know how it makes you feel.” They were coming to an intersection, and it became quieter as Tucker slowed the Jeep down. “The reason I can’t talk about details of the transaction is that these things must remain confidential. I’ve told you that.” She looked down, then back up at him. “Maybe I do want you to be a little jealous after all.” For a few moments they stared at each other, then she leaned toward him, moving her hand up his arm to his face.

But he shook his head. “You have to do something for me at this point,” he said quietly, reaching into a coat pocket.

“What do you mean?” She was certain he had been leaning toward her, too, but then pulled back.

Tucker held up a blindfold. “You have to wear this thing until we get to the rendezvous point with Mr. Lawrence. Colby’s orders.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately, I am. You have your secrets, and we have ours.” He motioned to her. “Turn around.”

Reluctantly she turned her head, then the world was gone behind a soft fabric extending from her forehead to beneath her nose. “Not too tight,” she protested.

“Sorry.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered to herself.

Tucker knotted the blindfold at the back of her head, then slipped the Jeep into first gear, turned right at the intersection, and gunned the engine.

She gripped the Jeep’s door and the console between them tightly, now unable to anticipate the turns of the narrow lane. “Hey, slow down!”

“Okay, okay.” Tucker eased off the accelerator. “So, what else is going on in your world?”

Her feelings for him had come from nowhere. Suddenly she’d realized that she cared about him, but, just as she thought the spark was about to ignite and that he felt the same way, he had pulled back. Perhaps he was afraid that Jake would find out. “I’m seeing my son this weekend,” she said. “My ex-husband is dropping Hunter off tomorrow evening.”

“Didn’t you just see Hunter last weekend?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought Mr. Lawrence told me you only got to see him once a month.”

“That’s right.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“My ex seems to be developing a conscience.”

“This would be the guy who brought you to Richmond in the first place, the one who didn’t turn out to be your knight in shining armor.”

“Yes.”

“Be careful, Angela.”

“Why?”

“You know why. He wants something.”

Angela gripped the Jeep door tightly as they went around a sharp curve. “Maybe he does, but I can handle myself. Besides, any extra time I get to spend with Hunter is worth any risk.”

Tucker slowed the Jeep down and they coasted across a narrow bridge spanning a creek. “Why aren’t you seeing anyone, Angela?”

At least he was still trying. That was a good sign. “How do you know I’m not?”

“Colby gave me a full rundown on you while you were having dinner with Mr. Lawrence.”

Of course they knew. They seemed to know everything. “I’ve been too busy lately.”

“Uh-huh.”

“How long until we get there?” she asked, her thoughts turning to the voice mail she’d received from Liv this morning. The man who had claimed to have information concerning Bob Dudley had called back and wanted to meet. She had tried to call Liv to warn her against going—or at least to be very careful—but hadn’t been able to reach her.

“Not too long.”

Five minutes later Tucker stopped at the first checkpoint. It was another bridge crossing a creek. Two armed men emerged from the woods, pointing a flashlight into Tucker’s face and on Angela’s blindfold. “Half a mile ahead up on your right,” one of them said gruffly. “There’s an entrance to a dirt road between two large oak trees. Follow that road until you arrive at the first T. A person there will direct you further.”

“Right.” Tucker gestured at Angela. “Can she take off the blindfold?”

“Not yet,” came the sharp reply. “Now move ahead.”

A half a mile down the lane Tucker identified two huge oak trees and a dirt road leading off into the forest. As he turned onto it, two more men appeared from the brush and signaled for him to stop. Once again, Angela and he were inspected, then waved ahead. Once again, Angela was not allowed to remove her blindfold. But at the first T in the road—where they were instructed to go left until they reached the next fork—she was given permission to uncover her eyes. Tucker had convinced the guards that there was no reason to impose such strict precautions at this point. Angela had been blindfolded for fifteen minutes and would never be able to find her way back here again. The guards had relented because they’d been given strict orders to treat her respectfully. She was not to be frisked this time.

“It sure is lonely back here,” Angela observed as Tucker guided the Jeep along the rutted dirt path. “Kind of spooky too.” Tall, bare oaks and elms rose above them into the winter night. “Why do you think this road is here? It doesn’t look like a driveway.”

“Probably an old logging access route,” Tucker responded. “Doesn’t look like it’s been used in a while.”

Once more, armed men appeared like specters from the woods as Angela and Tucker rounded a bend. This time there were five of them. Once more the Jeep was waved ahead after being closely inspected. Then the road opened up onto the edge of a small field, and Angela spied several other Jeeps as well as what appeared to be about fifteen to twenty men standing around the vehicles in groups of three and four, rifles slung over their shoulders. Then she recognized William Colby striding purposefully toward them in the headlights.

“Hello, Bill,” Tucker called, stepping from the vehicle.

“Good evening, John.” Colby nodded at the guard following him. The man moved briskly to where Tucker stood and began frisking him.

“What the hell is this?” Tucker bellowed as the guard patted him down.

“Shut up, John.” Colby turned toward Angela, who had gotten out of the Jeep and come around to the driver’s side. “Hello, Ms. Day. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but we’re on high alert tonight due to some intelligence I’ve just received. Mr. Lawrence was in New York City today and is flying in by helicopter to meet you. He should be here in no more than ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” she answered. Colby seemed more polite tonight. Almost civil.

He turned back toward Tucker. “I trust you didn’t see anyone following you. Not like the other night,” he said quietly so Angela couldn’t hear.

“I didn’t see anything. Look I’m pissed that you would have your guys frisk me for Christ—”

“Enough,” Colby interrupted, turning his attention to Angela. “I assume after the instructions I gave you last Sunday night, Ms. Day, you didn’t tell anyone what you were doing this evening.”

Before leaving the hotel, Colby had given her specific instructions not to disclose her meetings with Jake Lawrence to anyone. Just before leaving her apartment, however, she had recorded a message on Carter Hill’s cell phone voice mail. “No,” she answered hesitantly, “I didn’t.” She looked away, wondering if he could tell she was lying.

“Good.” He motioned for Angela and Tucker to follow him. “Come this way.”

With guards surrounding them, Angela had to jog through the knee-high underbrush along the edge of the field to keep up with Colby’s quick pace. It was clear and cold, and as she hustled along, she pulled the zipper of her ski jacket up to her neck.

“Here.” Colby held up his hand, then signaled for the detail of men to spread out along the edge of the field. “Shouldn’t be long.”

Angela watched the guards fade into the darkness ahead of them, then glanced up. There was a half-moon low on the horizon and the sky was littered with stars. “It’s so quiet out here,” she murmured. The wind was absolutely still.

“Here he comes,” Colby announced. “Stand by!” he shouted, then shouted it again, over his shoulder.

Tucker tapped Angela on the shoulder as she scanned the sky and pointed to the northeast. There she caught sight of flashing green lights, then heard the sound of a rotor chopping the air. Within seconds the helicopter was hovering several hundred feet above them, transforming the tranquil evening into a maelstrom. She grabbed her hair to keep it from whipping against her face, then she shielded her eyes with her other hand when the helicopter pilot turned on a spotlight that illuminated an area on the ground fifty feet in diameter as brightly as though it were day.