Project Northwest (13 page)

“I don’t know where you get it, all this
knowledge.”

“I get it from you, Mom. I mean, you do DNA
and lab work, right.”

“Yes, right. But I just use the machines, I
don’t build them.”

Mark listened to the banter while he eagerly
waited for his farmhouse grilled cheese.

“Speaking of DNA, Mark, who is the
suspect?”

“Oh, we don’t know yet.”

“Well the DNA on the hair will be pretty
useless without a suspect to match it to.”

“I know. I’m heading up to Seattle in the
morning to do a little digging, will be gone a couple of days.”

“Still want me to move forward with, you
know, want me to process it?” she asked as she pulled the gooey
goodness from the oven and sat them on the counter to rest. Mark
could feel his mouth water and didn’t answer her.

“Mark?

“Oh, sorry. Yes, process it. My friend said
he needed it quickly, so it would be nice if everything comes
together about the same time.”

She cut the sandwiches in half, placed them
on plates, and poured a glass of milk for Aaron. She grabbed a
couple of beers for her and Mark.

Mark devoured his sandwich, savoring every
crumb.

Tina noticed and smiled. She slanted toward
him, tapped his beer bottle with hers, and said, “You know, as
smooth as you are, you fall to pieces when I cook for you. I think
I’ve found your weakness. Want another?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yep,” Aaron piped in, using his tongue to
wrangle the dangling cheeses.

Mark comically threw his hands in the air.
“Guess the gig is up. You had me at farmhouse.”

They all laughed.

“Aaron, mind if I use your computer? I need
to send a message to a friend.”

“Sure, it’s okay with me. Do you want me to
load an email pop account for you?” Aaron asked.

“No, I do have a bachelor’s degree in
computer science, you know. I think I can find the website, but
stick around in case I need your help.”

“I’ll be waiting on pins and needles,” Aaron
joked.

Chapter Ten

~ Wild Ginger ~

Shelly insisted she
and James have lunch, but not upstairs on the patio. She wanted to
go out, wanted to try the pan-Asian cuisine she had heard about. In
a one-sided conversation, it was apparent that she was intrigued by
the fusion of Chinese, Malaysian, and Thai and she knew just the
spot where they could eat lunch, and asserted it would offer a much
needed break in the routine.

James had struggled with Shelly all morning.
Not a verbal struggle, but he found her too sexually charged and
aggressive. He was now wondering if it was her personality or if it
was part of her job. Part of the plan of control, masterminded by
Mr. Wright, to get him in bed with her.

He made it clear that Shelly’s sexual
undertones were being read as sexual overtones by him and he had no
interest.

Her blouse exposed more cleavage as the
morning went along. He was fearful she would be topless before the
end of the day, not the expected formal decor of bank personnel or
OTS agents.

Her right breast purposely brushed his left
arm several times during the morning and he could feel the hardness
of her erect nipple. When she leaned in to discuss the numbers on
the screen, she leaned in way further than she needed to and he
observed more cleavage than he would’ve liked.

She was coming on strong and if it were eight
months earlier, the blinds would’ve dropped, the door would have
miraculously found itself locked and the two would have been party
to some unknown emergency conference call.

But the truth was, even as attractive as she
was, he just wasn’t attracted to her. Bridget was quite
accommodating in the area of sex and all areas of their
relationship. He wanted for nothing. He wasn’t looking for any
extra-curricular activity and her advances made a strained
situation even more caustic.

He recalled some distant program on the
Discovery Channel that suggested ‘...
they stay joined for half
an hour or more, to ensure the female has the best chance of being
impregnated
’. He often thought of how strange, how different,
human society would be if people, when having sex, got stuck
together like canines do.

Deep down, though, in some dark level of
awareness, he knew the answer to his question was really only a
metaphor. People do get stuck.

With dogs, it’s a physical entrapment, traced
back through hundreds of years of pack behavior and gene selection.
Being stuck prevented another male from mating with the female.

With people, the trap was emotional, complex
feelings of passion and trust, but the desired result was the same,
to keep two animals together. There was no way he was going to
allow Shelly Spenser or Mr. Wright to intrude into that part of his
and Bridget’s life. He felt like screaming to those listening,
“
If
I have to sleep with her to keep my job or stay
alive, then go ahead and kill me now
.” Of course, he couldn’t
say it. Even in his mind, it sounded crazy. No red blooded American
boy would turn her down, but he felt like screaming it and he felt
sorry for her.

James agreed to the lunch for the purpose of
having a stern talk with Shelly. They exited the bank lobby, walked
to 3
^rd
Avenue, and headed toward Wild Ginger, a popular
pan-Asian restaurant in the downtown Seattle area.

On any given business day, downtown Seattle
had an eclectic seascape of people on its sidewalks. It wasn’t
uncommon to see office types wearing five hundred dollar business
suits followed by another city walker wearing a ten dollar shirt of
his or her favorite grunge band along with khaki shorts and
flip-flops. James had only noticed those on the fringe before,
those that stood out—the businessmen in the custom tailored Italian
suits or the opposite, the homeless guys with needle tracks on
their arms wearing dirty, stained, second-hand shirts. It struck
him as strange, that today he was looking for criminals in the
shadows and he thought he saw them everywhere.

He looked for Mr. Wright’s team, but really
didn’t know who he was looking for. It could be anyone. The guy
that just passed could be one or the person down on his luck,
drunk, and slouching on the bench with what appeared to be urine
stains on his pants. Shelly was one, she was part of the team. He
knew that for a fact and he decided to focus on her.

“So, Shelly,” he said as they neared the
entrance to the restaurant, “is one of your missions to sleep with
me? I mean, you have been coming on pretty hard. So I guess that’s
one of your objectives.”

Shelly, as aggressive as she was, apparently
found the comment uncouth and retaliated, “Be a gentleman, James. I
only want to try the fusion food. Is this something you want to
discuss now?”

“Yes, I think we should clear the air,” James
said as he held the door open for her. The hostess guided them to a
casual table near the back of the restaurant, took the drink
orders, presented the menus, and left.

James cleared the middle of the table, moving
the condiment tray and the single lotus flower in a glass vase to
the side—he wanted nothing between him and Shelly as he continued
his attack.

“Is that one of your goals, Shelly? Are you
supposed to get me into bed? What, would they record us and
threaten to show it to Bridget if I don’t do as they say?”

Shelly didn’t answer. She instead locked eyes
with James, silently communicating that she didn’t want to discuss
it and that his badgering was annoying her immensely.

“A woman of your beauty has no reason to
insistently pursue me, unless...” alleged James as he folded the
paper napkin onto his lap and leaned back into his chair. He left
the conversation open, trying to prod her into answering, hoping
she would fill in the blanks.

Shelly stood up and excused herself. “I must
go to the restroom.”

“Why not call them from here? You’re going to
call Mr. Wright, right? Why not do it here?” James bashed.

She paused, collected herself, and made her
way to the ladies room.

The door closed behind her as she looked in
the mirror. She was disgusted with herself and made meager attempts
to touch up her makeup. She was trying to find something positive
in all of this, some way to steady herself and her emotions. She
jumped when her cell phone rang, even though she expected it. She
didn’t even look at the display. She knew it was Mr. Wright.

“Miss Spenser, I see there is some resistance
from Mr. Spain. My associates and I do not feel it’s necessary at
this point in time to pursue this agenda any longer. You’re off the
hook, as they say. The rest of your mission, of course, is still a
go.”

“I don’t have to try to seduce him any
longer?” she asked, trying to hide her appreciation, not wanting to
give him any more power over her than he already had.

“Correct, continue getting the numbers and,
as promised, you and your daughter will be safe.”

“What do I say, how do I answer his insistent
questions? He’s not going to let this go.”

“Do what feels natural. We’re absolutely fine
with you telling him the truth, even if he doesn’t believe it. He
is already paranoid, always looking over his shoulder, suspecting
we are there, and that’s exactly what we want. Paranoia is one of
our most powerful tools.” The distant phone was muted. A quick
conference, she suspected.

“We confer, Miss Spenser, tell him the truth.
Maybe he might begin to trust you. No names, though. Don’t give
your real name or that of your daughter, is that understood? No
locations, either. Any slipup, any traceable detail, and this will
get ugly.”

“Yes, I understand.” The phone
disconnected.

She returned to the table, visibly shaken,
opened the San Pellegrino bottled water, and, with unsteady hands,
poured it into her glass. She sipped the water and said, “Okay,
James. To answer your question, yes, I was supposed to seduce
you.”

“What do you mean was?” James doubted her. It
was what he wanted to hear, but couldn’t process it when he heard
it. It was too convenient.

Shelly leaned in. “Mr. Wright is blackmailing
me, as well. We’re both being used by them.”

James didn’t believe her. It was just too
expected. It fit in too well. She was one of them and now she was
messing with his head.

“I’m to believe you, is that it?” The
waitress was on her way to the table and James rudely waved her
off.

“It’s the truth, James. I haven’t lied to you
during any of this. I did refuse to answer, but I’ve never lied.
They have their claws into me just as they do you. I can barely
keep myself together at the bank and breakdown each night. But I
will see this through, I have no choice.”

James contemplated and caught the attention
of the irritated waitress. They quickly made their selections and
Shelly continued.

“Look, I have a degree from a top Ivy League
university, a resume that would land me a VP position at any
financial firm. I could easily pull down six figures. Why would I
choose a life of crime? Why else would I be doing this? Normal
people don’t build themselves up, jumping through every social and
educational hoop to get to my level, and then throw it all
away.”

“What did you mean ‘
was
supposed to’
seduce me?”

“You were right, I did go to the restroom—I
was hoping that Mr. Wright would call, but I went to calm myself.
Mr. Wright did call and said I was off the hook, that I no longer
need to seduce you.”

“Really, just like that and you’re off the
hook? Just like that, all of that in one phone call,” snapped
James. His thoughts were muddled, along with some form of odd
jealousy. Why was she let off the hook so easily when he couldn’t
catch a break?

“Yes, just like that. Look, I don’t care if
you believe me or not, the proof will be obvious as I will no
longer be flirting, prostituting myself, and that makes me
extremely happy. It’s as simple as that. Make no mistake, we are
going to work together and we are going to finish this. Let’s not
talk anymore of this, let’s put it behind us and eat.”

Relief, as it turns out, lights a fire under
one’s appetite and Shelly devoured the Thai chicken satay. The food
tasted particularly yummy to her. James’s appetite came to him
slowly, but in short time, he was enjoying his lemongrass chicken
and Buddha rolls. They said little to each other, mainly because
there was nothing to say.

The walk back to the bank building was
leisurely in pace, each examining the other, trying to determine
what the other was thinking, trying to determine if they could
trust each other.

“We can do this,” James asserted, as they
entered the elevator and pressed the button for the sixth
floor.

“We have to do this,” Shelly replied as she
stuck out her hand, offering to seal the deal, to call a truce. At
twelve fifteen, they were back in the office. He was verbally
announcing the real time numbers and she was faithful to her
promise not to flirt.

Chapter Eleven

~ The Notice ~

Bridget unlocked the
door to her apartment. She hadn’t been there in at least a
week.

Running late for work, she quickly set about
watering the plants, cleaning the two coffee cups in the sink, and
emptying the dishwasher. Her favorite plant, a peace lily planted
in a decorated terracotta pot, seemed to miss her. It was beginning
to wilt and droop and she didn’t miss the irony that the peace lily
didn’t seem to be a vision of peacefulness. She noticed the small
steel pole with a miniature birdhouse attached on top had been
moved. Whoever moved it wasn’t familiar with the Japanese style of
Jiyuka. She assumed the worse—they’d moved it and mic’d it. She
thought of watering the damn thing and did just that, hoping it
crackled loud enough to deafen those listening.