Silent Weapon (7 page)

Something akin to fear shimmered through me. The tummy-twisting sensation you feel when something goes bump in the middle of the night and you can’t remember if you locked the door or some accessible window before collapsing into bed. How could such a monster be operating in my hometown without my knowledge? Was I that far out of touch? A part of me wanted to ask what this had to do with my recent actions or, for that matter, with me, but that twinge of fear kept my lips tightly sealed. I had a disturbing feeling I was about to find out.

He’s a killer,
Barlow added.
He killed Arthur Raby and got away with it just as he gets away with the rest of his dirty deeds.
This time I could see the fury burning in those piercing blue eyes. Detective Barlow hated Luther Hammond and that hatred went way deep. I braced against the shiver that realization elicited.

So far I’d made only two connections to the case I’d been involved in and this one, murder and real estate. I, as all those present well knew, was no expert in either.

“How does he get away with it?” I asked before I had the good sense to stop myself. I felt reasonably sure I was supposed to be playing the part of listener in this.

Barlow’s gaze shifted from me to Chief Kent, clueing me in to who was speaking next.

Because we haven’t been able to come up with enough evidence to stop him.
Kent appeared to consider his next words carefully before continuing.
Initially the bureau kept us out of their case. But we’ve gotten past that and now we have an opportunity to get in with our own agenda.

Hammond’s security is extremely tight,
Chief Adcock said.
We’ve tried repeatedly to get to him. But he’s too smart for the usual methods. No amount of surveillance has touched him. His people stay on the cutting edge of technology. We haven’t been able to even get close.
Like Chief Kent and Barlow, until the last, Adcock kept his expression carefully schooled. I paid close attention as he continued.

The opportunity Chief Kent spoke of is a position within Hammond’s household staff. For several years now Hammond has used the same cleaning service. The service comes in twice a week and does the heavy cleaning, but Hammond requires a live-in maid as well. The duties are fairly minimal. Keep the small details straight, putting books back on their shelves, make the beds daily. No kitchen duty,
he added hastily.
The chef has his own assistant who takes care of those chores.

We’ve nurtured a contact within the cleaning service.
Kent took up the story from there.
This contact is willing to place an undercover operative in the position.

Sounded like a tremendous step in the right direction. I just couldn’t figure out what it had to do with me.

As Chief Adcock mentioned, the traditional methods of surveillance don’t work on Hammond. He knows all our tricks.
Kent fell silent a moment as if he needed to assess my reaction thus far before he went on.
We need something he won’t expect. We need you, Miss Walters.

For a moment I waited for him to say more, certain I’d misunderstood somehow. Abruptly I realized it was my turn to speak. “Me?” I’m sure the single syllable came out more a squeak than a word.

With your…impairment,
Chief Adcock explained,
Hammond would never suspect you of listening in, if you get my meaning. He wouldn’t consider a woman such as yourself a threat.

He had a point there. If Luther Hammond was half the monster the men in this room thought him to be, I doubted anything about me would threaten him in any way.

If you choose to accept this assignment, Miss Walters,
Chief Kent said,
you will be working directly with Detective Barlow.

Okay, now I was lost. “I don’t understand,” I confessed. How could I possibly help Detective Barlow? I knew nothing about Hammond or this case. Yes, I could see that the man would never in a million years feel threatened by me, but I couldn’t see how that fit into my accepting the assignment to work with Detective Barlow. Most likely anything I would be involved with would be behind the scenes. I had definitely learned the hard way that I lacked the necessary experience to do field work.

The chiefs swapped another of those unreadable looks. Chief Kent took a stab at clarification.
We would like to place you inside Hammond’s home, as his new maid. Our hope would be that your phenomenal lip-reading ability would prove useful in gathering intelligence on Hammond’s ongoing operations.

I felt my eyes go wide at the same time my heart stumbled a couple of times before flopping back into a recognizable rhythm. Me? Go undercover in the home of a mobster?

I realize we’re asking a great deal of you, Miss Walters.
Adcock looked contrite and I realized then I’d uttered my questions out loud.
This kind of sacrifice is far above and beyond the call of duty. But, to be quite frank, we’re desperate to bring down Hammond and his empire.

Forcing my mind past the obvious, that I was untrained and completely inept in the field, I asked, “What’s to keep him from discovering my true identity?” Hey, I’d watched enough movies to know what happened to undercover operatives whose covers were blown. That was the part of the movie where I turned my head.

We’ve set up a new background for you,
Adcock explained.
Since your work here as well as your life has been rather low-key, at least until recently, and we believe we have that incident under wraps, there is nothing to connect you to anything other than the cover we’ve arranged. If Hammond runs a background check on you, he’ll find that you’ve been employed by the cleaning service since you reentered the work force just over one year after the onset of your impairment.

Chief Kent hastened to add,
All you have to do is watch Hammond and his associates in your capacity as the live-in maid. Detective Barlow will arrange ways for you to pass along whatever you learn.

I told myself this was the break I’d been looking for. The opportunity to do more. But other confusing thoughts kept muddying my ability to grasp the concept. “How long would this assignment last?” That was a legitimate question. I congratulated myself for being able to at least come off as reasonable.

There’s no way to answer that question,
Adcock admitted.
You could be there days, possibly weeks.

I frowned. “What about my family? What do I tell them?” Now, there was a problem that wouldn’t be that easily resolved. My folks are intensely overprotective. I couldn’t just drop off the family radar with no explanation, and accepting this kind of assignment would not be acceptable.

Miss Walters,
Chief Kent said,
if you accept this assignment no one can know. Your cover has to be protected at all costs. Your family and friends will need to believe you’re away for job-related training.

That could work. Lying to my family wasn’t something I felt comfortable with, but this wasn’t exactly lying, I told myself. Excitement began to inch up my spine. This was it. My opportunity to prove I could do more, make a difference. If I made this happen, how could Metro not consider me for a real investigative position? Considering how desperate the chiefs were, I felt certain I could finagle whatever training I needed for an investigative-profiler-type career move.

I now fully comprehended the test. The chiefs had wanted to ascertain how much of the various comments made during the meeting I could gather and recall. Clearly I had made an impression.

The whole setup sounded simple enough. “When do I start?” I looked from one chief to the other. Their attention shifted to Barlow. I snapped my gaze in his direction. Jesus, I’d almost forgotten about him in all the excitement. A smile quirked my lips. I couldn’t believe it! My plan had worked, gotten the right attention. I, Merrilee Walters, was going to be an undercover investigator on a very important case.

Just so you understand, Miss Walters,
Barlow said, his face impassive as usual,
there is no way for us to protect you once you’re inside.

Both Chief Adcock and Chief Kent looked uncomfortable with Barlow’s statement.

I considered his comment a moment. “I’ll be on my own,” I suggested, looking directly at him.

That’s right. You and I will set up a code to indicate you need help, but there’s no way to guarantee you’ll be able to get to a phone to call me if you need me. Once you’re inside you’ll be completely on your own.

A shiver rattled my excitement. “Will I be expected to carry a weapon?” I had never fired a gun in my life. I had taken the requisite self-defense class for females wanting to protect themselves from attack back in college, but nothing more.

Barlow shook his head in answer to my question.
You’ll be a maid. Maids don’t carry deadly weapons. Going in you’ll likely be considered suspect by everyone already on staff. Your acceptance will take time. Getting close enough to watch Hammond or his associates will require your total acceptance. The only way you’re going to do any good is if Hammond lets down his guard in your presence. The only way you’ll get out of there alive is if you don’t blow your cover.

Miss Walters…
Kent flared his hands to draw my attention back to him.
We’ll protect you as best we can any undercover operative. There are, of course, no guarantees. This assignment comes with undeniable hazards.

Unless you blow your cover,
Adcock spoke up,
there will be no reason for Hammond or his men to harm you. You’ll be completely safe as long as you stay within the boundaries of what is expected of your position.

We have a very small window of opportunity here,
Kent urged.
Detective Barlow will provide the background information you need and the necessary training before you go in, but our time is sorely limited. You’ve given us hope, Miss Walters. Hope that we can finally hold Hammond accountable for his crimes. Without your help I’m not sure the feat is in any way feasible.

How could I say no? My heart beat like a drum. This was exactly the break I’d been looking for. I wanted to do this. Wanted to put myself in a position to have some leverage. But first I needed some guarantees.

“If I agree to do this,” I said bluntly, “what assurances do I have that I’ll be allowed to pursue a career here at Metro as an investigator?”

Chief Kent smiled, his relief palpable.
Miss Walters, you help us bring down Hammond and you can pick the division of your choice. We’ll see that you get the training you need and the future of your career will be yours to do with as you please.

I bit my lips together to hold in a victorious
yes.
There was no question, I intended to take the assignment. Truth was, I wanted to run around the table and hug both chiefs for offering me this fantastic opportunity, but I didn’t want to look like a pushover.

“All right, gentlemen,” I said, my pulse skipping in anticipation. “When do I begin?”

Before either of the chiefs could respond, their attention swung to the end of the table. Barlow had shoved back his chair and stood. He didn’t speak or even spare the rest of us a glance before he did the absolute last thing I had expected.

He walked out.

Detective Steven Barlow made it to his office on the fourth floor before he got the call ordering him to return to Chief Kent’s office. He slammed the receiver into its cradle and stormed back to the stairwell. His rage grew with every step he took. By the time he’d reached the sixth floor his temper was out of control.

He hesitated at the door that would take him into the elegantly appointed corridor leading to the chief of police’s office. He had to get his anger back under control. He was this close, he mentally pictured a two- or three-millimeter expanse between his thumb and forefinger, to blowing his career. He had to take a step back, regain some badly needed perspective.

The deal was done. Merri Walters had taken the bait, hook, line and sinker. It wasn’t bad enough that she’d risked her life to set that trap for Sawyer. Steven shook his head slowly from side to side. How in the hell had she come up with that scheme? If he’d ever met a woman more determined to prove she could do anything he’d blocked the memory from his mind. This deaf lady was one ambitious woman. He’d looked into her professional and academic history. There was nothing in her background that indicated motivation for such a drastic change in character…except the loss of her hearing.

Steven could almost understand her need to prove her worth in spite of the devastating tragedy. But proving her worth was one thing, agreeing to a suicide mission entirely another. His fury peaked again. The very idea that Kent and Adcock would use the vulnerable woman made him want to rip off their heads and…

Enough. He shook off the fury. He had to pull it together here. Had to think rationally. Going off the deep end with his superiors wouldn’t help. As much as he hated what was about to go down here, he had to be a part of it. No one knew as much about Luther Hammond as he did. He had been the one to develop the contact with the cleaning service. It was up to him to make sure this went down as planned.

As arrogant as it sounded, he was Merri Walters’s best bet at surviving this assignment, whether she realized it or not.

Steven opened the door and strode down the quiet corridor until he reached Chief Kent’s office. His secretary, Sarah Walters, had already gone home for the evening. Just as well. Anything she might overhear could prove detrimental to the confidentiality of the case where the Walters family was concerned.

“Detective Barlow.” Kent motioned to a chair in front of his desk.

Steven took the seat and waited for the hailstorm to start. This wouldn’t be the first or the last time he would be dressed down by Kent or Adcock…or both.

“You, of all people,” Kent began his monologue, “understand the importance of this case.”