Lust, Money & Murder (12 page)

There was a knock at the door. Suddenly, the feel and texture of the dream changed. For a second, she was back in her little house in Garfield.

“I’ll get it,” she said, getting up from the table.

As she walked through the hallway, she was filled with terror. The Secret Service was there, and they were going to arrest Nick, and take him away, and destroy her beautiful family and her idyllic life with him.

When her hand touched the doorknob, it was cold as ice. Swallowing, she twisted it and pulled the door open.

The two girls that had approached Nick at the bar in Sofia were standing there, the brunette with the pageboy haircut, and the blonde with the braid down her back and the skintight pants.

“Is Neekie here?” the dark one said, her lipstick-smeared mouth grinning lewdly. “Can he come party with us?”

Elaine awoke with a start.

* * *

She finally decided to call Ashley and spill her guts. She needed to talk to someone about her obsession—keeping all her feelings bottled up inside was making her crazy.

Ashley was good at giving advice about the opposite sex—ever since Elaine had lost her virginity to “Mr. Rodriguez,” Ashley had been a kind of mentor to her, at least in the romance department.

“You’ve got to let him know how you feel,” she said.

“How?” Elaine said, shivering. She was standing in a phone booth in a Sofia suburb, and it was about 10 degrees outside. She wouldn’t have dared talked to Ashley about this on her cellphone or from the phone in her office or apartment.

“If I make a pass at him and he’s not interested, I’ll be so humiliated, I won’t be able to look him in the eye again. I’ll have to transfer to some other field office. And I like it here—I
love
it here!”

“You love
him
there,” Ashley said.

Elaine didn’t say anything. There was no need.

“Look, Elaine, I’m not talking about ‘making a pass’ at him. I’m talking about subtle hints. You’re a woman, you know how to do it.”

“I’ve given him every subtle hint in the book, Ashley. He doesn’t respond to any of them.”

Ashley was quiet a moment. Elaine knew what she was thinking.
Well, maybe the man just ain’t interested.

Ashley said, “Look, it’s probably the boss-subordinate thing. Does he know about the bastard in Great Falls?”

Ashley was the only one Elaine had told about Bill Saunders. “I don’t think so. How could he know?”

“Don’t ask me, I’m not a secret agent.”

“Ashley, we’re not ‘secret agents,’ we enforce the law, like the FBI.”

“Whatever.” Ashley had never understood Elaine’s career choice. “The point is, if he does know about the bastard in Great Falls, then he’s probably scared shitless to make a move towards you. He’s afraid you’ll fly off the handle and get him fired for sexual harassment.”

Elaine had considered this already. “I don’t think that’s it. This guy isn’t into following rules, Ashley. That’s one of the things that makes him so attractive—he’s a rebel, he does whatever the hell he wants.”

“Yeah, those types are exciting.”

Elaine sighed. “I just think that if he was really interested in me that he would take the risk.”

Well, there you have it
, she could hear Ashley thinking.

“Look, Lainie, if you’re that crazy about this guy, you should just come out and tell him. You know what they say. ‘It is better to have loved and lost, than not to have loved—”

“Come on, don’t feed me clichés!”

“Well, you call me for advice, and then when I give it to you, you reject it. What exactly are you wanting me to tell you?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so upset about this. You’ve been a big help, really. I—I just need to think some more.”

“You’ve done enough thinking already—you’re just driving yourself batty. It’s bad for your self-esteem.”

“Yeah,” Elaine sighed, hugging herself and shivering again. “Listen, I’m freezing my butt off, Ashley, I’ve got to hang up. I appreciate all your advice, and please,
please
don’t breathe word of this to anyone.”

“As if I’m going to share it with all my secret agent friends.”

* * *

Two hours later, Nick came into Elaine’s office.

“How would you like to go on an undercover assignment with me to Belarus?”

It was as if he had overheard the entire telephone conversation. Of course, Elaine knew such a thing was impossible.

“Sure,” she said, trying to hide her excitement. “What’s the assignment?”

Nick explained it to her. He suspected that there was a small counterfeiting operation there and couldn’t get any cooperation from the Belarusian authorities, so he wanted to go investigate himself. “It would only be for a couple of days,” he added casually.

“That’s fine,” she said, struggling to hide her exhilaration. She wondered if he would want them to pose as a couple again. She actually felt herself becoming sexually aroused at the thought of holing up with him for a few days in a hotel in Belarus. Who knew what might happen?

“You’ll need a fake passport, of course,” he said. “What country do you want to be from? Are you any good at any particular accent?”

“Might yeh be gettin’ me a passport from Ayerland, so? Some say I do an Ayerish brogue that ain’t half bad.”

Nick burst out laughing. “That’s awesome! Are you Irish, or part Irish?”

“My great-great-great-great grandmother was an Irish Princess. She lived in a beautiful castle.”

Actually, what Elaine said was, “My father used to wander around muttering in an Irish brogue for fun. Brogan is an Irish name, but I don’t think he ever actually knew any real Irish people.”

“Oh. Well, I know some people who can make an Irish passport. These ex-Soviet block countries love the IRA.”

* * *

When they flew to Minsk, the Belarusian capital, Nick traveled on a fake British passport and listed his occupation on the landing form as “Engineer.” He told her to write “Accountant” on hers. Her passport was a diplomatic issue, supposedly granted by the Irish Department of Agriculture, Fisheries, and Food.

“We’ve been married five years, we live in London, I work for British Petroleum. We have no kids. We’re here on vacation. Got it?”

“Yes.”

Elaine was so excited she could hardly contain herself. When they stepped out of the taxi and approached the hotel lobby, she mustered up the courage to take Nick’s hand.

He quickly let go, frowning at her.

“I thought we were supposed to be married,” she said, a little hurt.

“We are. Five
years
, Elaine. No married couple holds hands after five
years
.”

* * *

When they actually went to the hotel room Nick had reserved, Elaine was even more disappointed. She had hoped it would only have one large bed. Instead, it not only had two separate beds, but they were in separate rooms. It was a suite designed for a family, with one bedroom for the parents and one bedroom for the kids. There were even separate bathrooms.

She was disappointed that he would never get to see her in the new peignoir that she had spent half her salary on.

“I thought this would give you more privacy,” Nick said, as he took his suitcase into the smaller of the two rooms.

“Thanks,” Elaine muttered.

She went into the other bedroom and glumly unpacked her suitcase.

A few minutes later, Nick appeared at her door.

“I’m going out, see what I can stir up.”

“You don’t want me to—”

“No, you need to stay here. Be ready to check out any bills I bring back—we’ll have to move fast.”

* * *

The three days they spent in Belarus were miserable for Elaine. Nick made her stay in the room like a prisoner. He went out and tracked down suspect $100 bills, brought them back for her to check, and then went out again, leaving her alone nearly the entire time. The only reason he wanted her with him was so that he could quickly determine if the bills he tracked down were fake, and to tie them to other notes that had surfaced elsewhere in Eastern Europe.

On the third day, when Nick was preparing to leave again, she said, “I’m getting awfully tired of room service, Nick. Can’t we at least go out to dinner?”

“Can’t do it,” he said.

“Why not?” she said angrily.

“Because it’s too dangerous here. I’m almost sure I was followed today.” He paused, looking at her sympathetically. “If anything happened to you...”

“What?”

He looked away, brushing the hair out of his face. “It’s my responsibility to keep you safe, that’s all.”

He left without saying anything else.

* * *

Nick did not return until early the next morning. He looked haggard, with two days of stubble on his face. There was a small gym bag over his shoulder. With a sigh, he slung it onto the coffee table and unzipped it.

It was packed with bundles of dirty-looking Belarusian rubles, held together with bright yellow rubber bands.

He silently unzipped his own suitcase, opened up a false bottom, and began carefully packing the money into it.

“Do you mind explaining where that came from?” Elaine said.

“A false bribe,” he muttered. “I posed as a corrupt Interpol agent to get closer to the source of those counterfeits that I think are coming out of Russia.” He glanced up at her. “I think we’re getting close to the source of those, Elaine. That could be a big bust, a real feather in our cap.”

He finished packing in the bills and closed his suitcase. “It’s only about $10,000, but it will come in handy for my undercover operations. “ He glanced at her again. “I don’t want to report it as coming from here, it’s too much to explain and too much paperwork. I’ll convert it to American dollars and say the money was found during an undercover operation in Sofia—we can recycle it much easier that way.”

* * *

When they got back to Sofia, Elaine seriously considered asking for a transfer to another Secret Service office. Her one-year anniversary was almost up. Technically, it was possible.

Why should I keep torturing myself?
she thought. Working side by side with a man she was madly in love with, but who would not return her feelings? It was masochistic.

Finally, Elaine could stand it no longer. Two days before her one-year anniversary, she downloaded the Request for Transfer form on her computer and started filling it out.

When she reached the blank that said, Reason for Transfer Request, she hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Can’t take this anymore—have the hots for my boss, and it’s driving me insane
.

“Morning, Elaine.”

She looked up sharply. Nick was standing in her doorway, smiling at her.

She quickly minimized the window on her screen. “Good morning.”

“Are you free Friday night?”

“Why?” she said guardedly.

“I thought we’d go out and celebrate your anniversary.”

“I—” She feigned surprise. “Has it been a year already?”

“Sure has.” Nick grinned. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Elaine watched him a moment, standing there in his jeans and leather jacket, his hair disheveled. He looked like he just tumbled out of bed with one of his bar girls.

She wanted to strangle him.

With a sigh, she said, “Nick, I really don’t want to go out with you and your...”

He looked puzzled. “My...what?”

“Groupies.”

“My
groupies
?” He laughed. “Is that how you think of them?”

Elaine didn’t answer. He stood there a long time, gazing at her. “If I didn’t know better,” he said, “I’d think you were jealous.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, blushing. She opened the window on her screen. He couldn’t see what she was doing, so it didn’t matter.

He said, “The only reason those girls like me is because I spend money on them.”

Elaine ignored him, filling in another field on the transfer application.

“I’ve got a present for you,” he said.

She looked up at him. Smiling, he reached into his pocket and took out a small cardboard box. It was about the size of jewelry box for a ring.

Keep dreaming
, she thought, but her heart beat a little faster as he set it on her desk in front of her. “Just a memento of your first day in Bulgaria.”

All she could remember about the first day here was how good her hand felt in his. Hiding her bitterness, she opened up the box.

Inside was a little plastic turkey, with funny little legs hanging down. Nick picked it up, wound the knob on the side, and let it go. It waddled crazily around the desktop, making an awful grinding noise.