Saint (6 page)

He let himself back into the room, which
was only a short distance away, and found her sitting on the edge of the bed,
looking wild-eyed. She’d awakened and found herself alone and jumped to the
conclusion he’d left her to fend for herself.

Well shit, he wasn’t
that
Goddamn unfeeling.

He gave her a second or two to get it
together before saying, “I called Will.”

“And?”

“He’s on vacation.” He sure as hell wasn’t
going to tell her she’d been abandoned by the only person she’d trusted to get
her through this difficult time.

“Vacation?” She blinked at him.

God, he wished she’d do something with that
Esmeralda wild hair. It was bad enough she looked like a lost waif, which he
suspected was Will’s doing. “He’s gone under and doesn’t intend on surfacing
until the trial.”

Will must have known she was close to
breaking. How could he not have? She was exhibiting all the signs. Skaggs was
better than that. Yet here she was, hands gripping the edge of the mattress,
trying not to hyperventilate. She should have been cursing him. Screaming,
crying, anything to let it out. Instead there was only that cool, thin aura of
cracked porcelain she wrapped around herself. That’s why he hadn’t talked much
on the trip. He hadn’t encouraged even the slightest bonding or indication of
sympathy. It would take less than nothing to shatter the fragile hold she
currently had on herself.

He pulled the whiskey bottle from his bag
and handed it to her. “Drink.” A brusque demeanor had always helped his men
hold on to their sanity when it seemed there wasn’t any left. They hadn’t dared
go berserk or die needlessly unless they had his permission.

She twisted off the top and took a swig
from the bottle. Still grimacing as the whiskey did its work, she ran a hand
across her mouth. “What now?”

“Now I make a trip to Will’s, check it out,
find out if he left a trail.” He should have done it last night but hadn’t been
able to because she’d been in too deep a sleep to wake her and try to explain.
“You’ll stay here.”

Shit. It wasn’t safe to take her with him
and it wasn’t safe to leave her here in this condition. But he had to leave
her, there wasn’t any other choice. His hand curled into a fist at his side. If
he as much as squeezed her shoulder in assurance she would crumble. She needed
to crumble but not now.

“I’m going with you,” she decided.

“You don’t listen so good.” He placed a
restraining hand on her shoulder when she tried to rise. “But I’m willing to
overlook that flaw just this once. You’ll stay here. No one knows who we are or
that we’re here in D.C.”

“I’m sticking with you,” she insisted. “Where
you go, I go.”

“I’m not a sticky kind of guy. Use your
head, lady. If you go traipsing around D.C., somebody’s bound to make you and
then the jig is up. You’re safe here.” For now.

She jerked her shoulder from beneath his
hand, panic riding the edge of her voice. “Like I was safe in North Carolina?
Arizona? Half a dozen other places?”

“No one knows you’re here but me.”

“What if you don’t come back?”

“I always come back,” he assured her in an
authoritative tone of voice. Then reached into his duffel and pulled out the
9mm Sig Sauer, holding it out to her. “You know how to use one of these?”

She stared at it as though it were a snake
that might strike. “I don’t like guns. I’ve never shot one.”

“All you have to know for the moment is aim
and pull the trigger. Anyone tries to come through this door, empty the clip
into them.” He pressed the weighty steel into her hand. “The safety’s here,
just flip it and shoot.”

She dangled the gun with two fingers. Two
shaking
fingers. “That’s murder.”

He took the gun from her and placed in on
the bedside table. “Anyone who tries to come through this door isn’t going to
be delivering pastries and coffee. Do you really give a shit about their
rights?”

She looked up at him with those bottomless
dark eyes. “How long will you be gone?”

“An hour, maybe. Don’t answer the phone,
don’t open the door for anyone. While I’m gone get some sleep.”

“I slept last night.”

No, she hadn’t really. She’d tossed and
turned a lot. “You need more.” The dark circles under her eyes pretty much
clinched it.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t believe I heard you right.” He
leaned over, putting his face intimidatingly close to hers. “I said sleep. That
isn’t a request. You have my permission to breathe while you do it.”

He’d read her right. Her spine stiffened
and her chin came up, but she didn’t tell him to go to hell.

Well she would before it was over.

* * * * *

Sleep. Stay. Sit. Eat. Maria didn’t sleep.
She sat on the bed, holding the lethal-looking weapon with shaking hands. It
was an effort but she managed to keep her breathing on a level just below
hyperventilation. She wished she could say the same for her pulse.

When sitting strained her nerves, she
paced, flipped on the television for distraction, then flipped it off again,
afraid she might miss hearing any sound that indicated things weren’t right.

What if Harris didn’t come back?

What if they’d been followed and whoever
Juarez had sent to do his dirty work this time was simply waiting for the right
moment to strike? Like now, when she was alone.

Why had she let him leave here without her?

She checked her watch. He’d been gone…ten
minutes. An eternity.

* * * * *

Seth took a moment to smear mud across the
license plate of his truck before driving the back streets of D.C. to Will’s.

He let himself in the usual way, without a
key, and sifted through all the papers and notes he could find. What he found
was a lot of nothing on the Juarez case. According to Will’s answering machine
he hadn’t checked his messages but the machine itself was a fountain of
information.

“Skaggs, this is your supervisor, in case
you’ve forgotten what the term implies. You don’t get in touch with me soon
about the Carvania woman, I’ll cut you off at the pass, mister.”

Seth wrote down the pager number the irate
super rattled off and called it, punching in Will’s home number. Seconds later
the phone rang. He let the machine pick up.

“Will? Goddammit pick up this phone, I know
you’re there! I want to know where the woman is and I want to know yesterday. I’m
getting flack from all sides and you best remember shit rolls downhill… If
anything happens to her, you’re history. You’ll be flipping burgers for the rest
of your life…Skaggs!” A few more incensed breaths and the line went dead.

So Will hadn’t informed his CO where Maria
Carvania was stashed. That meant Will didn’t trust his chain of superiors.

He needed a name. The date and time stamp
on the machine indicated the first call came in this morning, before he’d
arrived. He made a second call to Will’s office and he was put through to the
same secretary who’d informed him Will was on vacation.

“I need to speak to the agent in charge
please.”

“What is the nature of your call, sir?”

“I have information.”

“What kind of information?”

“The Juarez case.”

Two seconds later another voice came on the
line. “This is Hocksteder. Who am I speaking with?”

Seth hung up. The shit was rolling downhill
all right, straight from the very top of the pile. Will would’ve hidden any
evidence that hadn’t been turned over. And Seth didn’t doubt for one minute
Will
had
withheld
something. Will always had an ace in the hole—he cheated at cards.

He’d quit smoking years ago, but on the way
back to the motel he bought a pack of cigarettes. At this point, cancer was the
least of his worries.

* * * * *

D.C.

Pepe Sanchez watched the careful stranger
let himself in and out of Skaggs’ residence. He’d been sitting on this location
for days, thinking how much easier it would have been to simply kill the woman
outright but Juarez was anal about details.

Having his balls squeezed off didn’t
particularly appeal to him.

The stranger had parked down the street, so
Pepe had no choice but to wait until he emerged again to follow. One thing was
certain, the man was adept at getting in and out without notice. Had Pepe not
chosen such a strategic vantage point to keep watch from he never would have
known which townhouse the man entered.

Through his headphones Pepe heard the
rattling of papers and the answering machine being played. Then a number was
dialed, seven tones punched in and the call returned from FBI headquarters.
Hocksteder had the phone tapped but Pepe didn’t trust the deputy director to
share information.

Interesting. Someone besides himself was
looking for Skaggs. Someone who had information on the Juarez case.

From his position it was impossible to get
a picture of the interloper. No matter. He would be face to face with him soon
enough.

* * * * *

Seth inserted the key in the motel door,
let himself in and then froze when the nose of the Sig he’d given the package
pressed against the base of his skull.

“Move and you’re dead,” she said from
behind him.

“Did you remember to take the safety off?”
His question took her off guard. In one swift move he had her pinned to the
wall. “I thought I told you to get some sleep?” he asked, noting the stunned
look on her face before she again gained control. “Am I going to have to tie
you to the bed?”

“I’ve been tied to a bed before.”

He was almost sure the remark was meant as
false bravado. Almost. And she would never know how close he came to finding
out how sinfully that wide mouth of hers tasted. He disarmed her and slid the
Sig beneath the waistband of his jeans, tossing his own Glock on the mattress. “In
bed,” he ordered sharply. “Now.”

“What did you find out?”

“No nap, no information.” He moved away
before she could discover he wasn’t dead below the waist. Jesus Christ.

Her lips thinned but she threw herself on
the bed, turning her back to him. Now what the hell was he supposed to do with
her? Will was AWOL and there was no guarantee he would be able to find him
before the trial. He couldn’t keep an eye on her and search for Will at the
same time.

Seth returned the Sig to his duffle and
stretched out on the other bed, the Glock at his side. He was so fucked. He
should have seen this coming but he hadn’t seriously thought Skaggs had the
balls to dump a package on him and take a powder. And just when he was beginning
to believe he actually could live the rest of his life on the outside and maybe
even get some enjoyment out of it. Like fishing.

* * * * *

Maria woke to find Harris lounging against
the headboard of his bed, watching her. She smelled smoke. He’d been smoking.
The ashtray on the table separating their beds had several butts in it. She
pushed herself into a sitting position, shoving a chunk of hair from her eyes. The
first words out of her mouth were, “I napped, now spill it. Did you find Will?”

“Yes and no. No sign of where he went. But
his supervisor was on the answering machine demanding to know your whereabouts.
Looks like Will didn’t trust the people he worked with. The deputy director
himself is now taking any information on the case. Did you give Will all the
evidence you had against Juarez?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have a decision to make.” He
swung his legs over the edge of the bed and faced her across the small space,
clasping his hands between his knees. “Here’s the way it is. Will’s on the lam.
I know him and he wouldn’t have disappeared like this unless he suspected
someone on the case is playing both sides.”

Likewise, Maria swung her legs over the
side of her bed, running a hand through her tangled curls. “What kind of
decision?”

Harris studied her for a moment, his
expression unreadable. “I can’t watch over you and look for Will at the same
time. I need to stash you somewhere until I find him.”

“Does that mean you’re taking the job?”

“No. It means I’ll make arrangements for
you until I can find Will. He’ll have to take over from there.”

The whole thing sounded convoluted to her.
“You still haven’t told me what this decision is that I need to make.”

“You won’t like where I put you or who I
put you with. The choice is whether you want to take your chances with the DEA
or wait it out ’til Will surfaces.”

“You just said Will didn’t trust the people
he works with. This deputy director, do you think he’s in on it?”

“It took about two seconds for him to come
on the line when I called saying I had information on the Juarez case. Will’s
supervisor or one of the other agents working the case should have been next in
line. Heads are rolling and I want to see who’s next. Anyone else talk to you
besides Will?”