THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO (11 page)

The next thing he felt was the cold steel of the barrel of the rifle against the nape of his neck.

I
t was just a couple of hours after dark when Megan and Eli finished eating back at the diner where they had found Peterson. After dropping Peterson off, they had come back to the diner to wait to see if the man Peterson had been waiting for would show up. After a couple of hours of sipping coffee and no Hayes, they decided to put a call in to Jennings to see if he could find anything out about Hayes or the other man, Pemberton. Jennings had called back an hour later and told them all he knew. Which wasn’t much.

Pemberton, he had said, was a very secretive man. And good at it. The agency had never had any kind of run-in with him. He never gotten so much as even a speeding ticket that they knew of. But that didn’t mean that no one had ever heard of him, either. Just as Peterson had said, Pemberton had a reputation for being in the middle of lots of goings-on. The problem was, no one could actually tell you what that meant. Hayes, on the other hand, was a little more accessible.

Milton Hayes, Jennings informed them, was a North Carolina Supreme Court Justice. Known for his socially liberal agenda, he was a fierce lawyer who had come up through the ranks as a defense attorney, getting acquitted some of North Carolina’s most dubious characters. It hadn’t taken long for Hayes to find himself on the bench of the Circuit Court of Appeals. Only after a year and a half on the bench, a vacancy had opened on the state’s supreme court, where he was quickly confirmed as the new chief justice by the state Senate. Although it seemed out of character, Hayes had a propensity for being a friend to big business, something most liberal justices weren’t. And that, Jennings had said, made him interesting.

When Hayes failed to show up at the diner, Megan and Eli decided to just go ahead and eat. They had Hayes’s home address and figured by the time they had finished eating, Hayes would be at home. If Chief Justice Hayes wasn’t going to come to them, they would go to Chief Justice Hayes.

More importantly—at least for Megan—was the fact that Boz should have already gotten to Keene by now. At least a hundred different scenarios were playing out in her imagination. Some—the ones she was praying for—were good. Others—the ones she expected to actually be taking place right now—not so good. She let her fork fall to the plate and sighed.

“Don’t worry, Megan. Uncle Boz will be just fine.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just hard to convince myself.” Then, “And where’s this Hayes guy? Thought Peterson said he comes in here, like, three times a day.”

Eli looked around the room. “Dunno. Maybe today he had something else to do.”

Megan picked her fork up again and pointed it at him. “And
that
is exactly what worries me.”

“I hear you.”

Megan noticed that Eli had finished his food and was just sitting there waiting on her. She had actually finished before he had but then ordered a piece of pie for dessert. She took one last bite of the sweet flaky crust and pushed away from the table. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I’d say he’s probably home by now.”

They left the diner and pulled out onto the road. Eli flipped the dome light on above them and opened the map again.

“Know where you’re going?” he asked her.

“Isn’t that why you’re looking at the map?”

Eli pulled the paper down under his chin so that he could see her. “Oh, don’t worry,
I
know where we’re going.”

“Then why are you asking me?”

“Well, I just figured since you pulled out going the wrong way, you knew a shortcut or something.”

Megan frowned at him, flicked the map back at his face, and pulled a U-turn in the road.

Eli laughed and said, “That’s better! Now, just go that way until you see East Chatham Street. Our friend lives down the way a bit in a neighborhood called Cary.”

“Should that mean something to me?” she asked.

“Just that, from what Jennings said, it’s a rather affluent little place. Apparently Mr. Hayes does quite well for himself.”

“He was a scumbag defense attorney. Of course he did well for himself.”

Megan didn’t realize how much of an understatement that was until they turned on Hayes’s street. The homes lining the road looked more like small compounds than simple residences.

“Holy cow!” She let out a low whistle.

“Yeah.”

She eased the car along the road, watching the numbers of the addresses until they came to the one they wanted. Before coming to the drive she pulled over to the side of the road. Alongside them, a security wall at least seven feet tall ran the entire length of the property.

“See that?” She pointed just a short way into the drive.

“Yeah. Not surprising.”

They both looked ahead to what appeared to be a guard shack. A light emanated from the single window facing the drive.

“Well, you think we should go in announced? Or you want to hop the wall?”

“I thought you FBI types liked to make a big scene.”

“Yeah.” She twisted her mouth side to side. “I’m not exactly like most FBI agents.”

“So over the wall, then?”

She undid her seat belt and reached up to flip the switch on the dome light so it would stay off when she opened the door. Eli quickly followed her out of the vehicle.

They walked back away from the drive and followed the wall around to the back of the property.

“Here, give me a boost.” Megan jumped to grab the top of the wall.

Eli grabbed her by the legs and pushed her up until she could get her forearms over the top of the wall.

“See anything?”

“Nah, just a big backyard with a gazebo and a killer water feature. This guy’s like Mr. HGTV or something.”

“I
meant
…see anything like
people
. You know…like security.”

“Oh. No, nothing like that. Couple lights on in the north wing. Looks like an office or something from here.”

“Okay, then. I’ll boost you the rest of the way up. Straddle the wall then, and when I jump, grab my arm and pull me up.”

Eli pushed her the rest of the way up and then took a couple of steps run-up to the wall. Megan grabbed his forearm and pulled him up onto the wall with her.

“All right,” she said when they were both up. “Let’s go. We’ll just look around the outside for a few minutes and then go knock on the back door.”

“Look around? What are you expecting to find? Blueprints to an evil scheme or something?”

“Funny, smart aleck.” She swung her legs over to the inside of the wall. “I don’t know. Just get a lay of the land. Never know when we might have to take cover or make a quick exit.”

“Good point.”

They both dropped down from the wall and started looking around. The grounds were well kept. The lawn had been manicured perfectly. The shrubbery lining the house was uniform throughout. A covered patio, complete with furniture and an outdoor grill station, stood directly off a set of ornate french doors, which appeared to lead inside to the kitchen. The patio stepped off into an Olympic-sized infinity pool, with a stone-faced hot tub on one end.

“Man, this guy is living large,” Eli said.

“Like I said, scumbag defense attorney,” Megan said.

“Well, I’ve seen enough. How about we go introduce ourselves?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Megan reached behind her and undid the safety strap from her holster.
Can never be too careful these days
, she thought. Walking through the covered patio, she stepped up to the double french doors and rapped her knuckles on the glass.

The house was quiet inside. She knocked again, a little louder this time. Still nothing.

“Surely, if someone were in there, they heard that,” Eli said.

“You’d think.” She drew her arm back again to pound a little harder. Eli reached out and grabbed her midswing.

“I’ve got a better idea.”

A year ago, she would’ve protested vehemently. But after what she’d been through in these last few months, she knew what Eli meant to do was probably the right move. However, they had a small problem sitting before their eyes. Eli waved her aside. She stepped back to let him work.

“This,” he said, pointing to a little black box mounted to the side of the door frame, “is a Millennium CX-3. Perhaps the best home security technology on the planet. Developed by—”

“The Chinese. Yeah, I know.”

“Most experts will tell you it’s completely impossible to bypass.”

“That’s what I hear.”

“Yeah, well, most experts are wrong.” He popped his eyebrows at her with a sly grin. He pulled a tiny screwdriver from a little pouch he had taken from his pocket. He made quick work of the four screws holding the cover in place, removed the cover, and handed it to her.

Inside the box, a series of small chips and processors stood, mounted against a motherboard. Each one looked like its own little supercomputer hard drive.

“See, no wires.” Eli pointed to the chips. “That’s why they say it’s impossible to bypass.” He pulled another tool from his pouch. “But this guy right here”—he showed it to her—“doesn’t believe in impossible.”

The tool looked like a typical writing pen. But instead of a ballpoint ink dispenser, a little red LED protruded from the end.

He then reached behind his back and retrieved his iPhone. “And it even comes with its own app. I might not be able to make calls on it, but the pen will connect directly to the hard drive of the phone. The phone acts as a sort of laptop and just runs the program.”

Megan was impressed. She was considered one of, if not the best hackers in the world. It was the very reason she was employed at the FBI. And yet, not even she had heard of this technology. “Does it work?”

Eli stopped short and turned to her. “Dunno. Never used it before. It’s a prototype.”

“What do you mean, you’ve never used it before?”

“I’m a spy. Not a thief. I’ve never used it before. Never needed to.”

“But you just happen to have it. Just in case.”

“Right. Something like that.” He nodded and turned back to his work.

Megan ran a hand through her hair and let out a long, slow breath. “So how do we know if it works?”

Eli looked back up at her and placed his hand on the door handle. “We’re about to find out.”

Megan drew her Glock, just in case. The last thing she needed was for some alarm to start going off and the guard from around front to come running around the house looking to shoot first and ask questions later. She watched as Eli slowly pushed the lever down and waited.

Click
.

Nothing. The door swung inward without a sound.

Eli looked back to her and shot her a mischievous grin.

“Doesn’t mean there isn’t a silent alarm,” she said.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“So how do we know if that’s the case?”

“I’d say, in about twenty seconds, if there is one, we’re going to meet that nice young man we saw sitting in that guard shack out front.”

Megan drew a breath in and nodded. They both stood motionless for over a minute.

Nothing.

“Right. Well, then.” Eli swept his arm over the threshold. “After you.”

Knowing Hayes could return home any moment, they made quick work of the house. Eli took the upstairs, while Megan stayed down. She quickly rifled through drawers in the living-room end tables. Nothing. A baker’s rack caught her eye, back in the kitchen. It had some mail scattered on the countertop and several drawers underneath. She quickly went through those. Again, nothing.

She moved through the rest of the rooms downstairs with no luck. The entire house seemed to be void of life. She wondered how anyone even lived there. It was completely sterile, as if it were a museum or something. She wondered if Eli was having any luck, or just more of the same.

Finally she came to what she assumed was Hayes’s office. A large room with twelve-foot ceilings, lined with built-in bookshelves. Some of the books she recognized from her time at Quantico. The floors were dark bamboo. Beautifully tailored drapes hung from floor to ceiling, lining the windows. A deep, leather reading chair sat at one end of the room, complete with end table, lamp, and footstool. At the other, Hayes’s desk. Megan didn’t know anything much about antiques. But if she had to guess, this one was pretty old. It looked like something from the private study of a European king.

She was about to start going through everything when Eli returned.

“Find anything up there?”

“Just typical stuff. Clothing, toiletries. You know. How ’bout you?”

“Same. Besides, I don’t even know what I’m looking for. This house doesn’t even seem like it’s lived in.” She pointed to the desk. “That thing there is the first sign of life I’ve seen on this floor.” The desk had several papers strewn about the top of it. There was a drinking glass, half filled with a brownish-amber liquid. An ashtray sat beside it with some tobacco residue stuck to its bottom. And next to that, a beautifully carved pipe, resting on a little wooden stand.

“Well, he might be a scumbag, but he definitely has good taste.” Eli stepped over to the pipe, picked it up, and ran it under his nose. He drew in a long, slow inhale. “Mmm…and that isn’t cheap tobacco, either.”

“What are you talking about?”

Eli held the pipe up for her to get a better look at. “This, Megan, is a Bo Nordh.”

She looked at him blankly.

“What do you drive?”

Megan was genuinely confused. “What?”

“Your personal vehicle. Do you drive a Porsche or a Mercedes? A Land Rover?”

Megan just laughed.

“Right. Well let’s just say, then, this pipe probably cost more than your car.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s only ridiculous if you don’t have the money to spend on it in the first place.”

The voice was a new one. And it came from behind them. Both she and Eli immediately whirled around, guns pointed, only to come face-to-face with a shadow, standing halfway down the hall, with his arm extended toward them. Slowly, he inched his way closer, until the light from the office glinted off the barrel of the easily recognizable revolver—ironically enough called
The Judge
—pointed at them. The nose of the gun swept back and forth at the two of them, as its owner, Judge Milton Hayes, came into view.