Triumph (25 page)

There was the faint sound of plastic and rustling tissue paper as he removed a fresh shirt from its dry-cleaner hanger.

Not yet
, Kelly told herself.

 

Deke opened the door of the armored SUV for her and helped her up onto the running board, which was conveniently wide.

“I didn’t know they built these things for women wearing high heels,” she said.

“We had it customized. Just for you.”

“Ha ha.”

He closed the door with a chauffeur’s flourish after Kelly got in, swinging her legs into the footwell. Once he was inside and the doors locked, his arm went around her shoulders. Kelly half turned into his embrace and parted her lips for a kiss she knew was coming.

It was tender but brief. Kelly lifted her head and pressed her cheek against his, soothed by the strong hand caressing her back. “Is there a way we could do this every night?” she murmured into his ear.

“Hmm. Wouldn’t mind.” He kissed her again and took a little longer about it. Then he stopped. “I have to bring you home right afterward, though.”

She sighed and straightened, pulling at her dress. “Look at us. Necking like teenagers in a parking lot. Sorry. I got carried away.”

“Hey.” He touched her chin to make her look at him. “Don’t apologize.”

 

The dinner was attended by several members of Deke’s team, and there were other teams at different tables in the restaurant. Kelly knew that the financial fraud task force was big, but she hadn’t expected to see so many people tonight. There were no civilians besides herself, as far as she knew.

She studied faces when the waiters removed the appetizer plates and bustled around the table. They looked just like regular people you would see at the mall. Tall, short, thin, plump, and everything in between, in a range of ages. There were more men than women, but at least a third of the agents were female.

A waiter refilled her water glass and Kelly leaned away from him, brushing shoulders with Deke. Something about the moment of contact drew discreet looks, though no one made a comment. She sat up straight, thanking the waiter, who continued around the table.

“So, Kelly, some of us have been following your reports on Bach,” said the sector chief, Doug Hightower, a thickset man in his fifties with thinning hair and bright blue eyes. “Good job.”

“It’s a complicated subject.” Kelly smiled at him.

Hightower had made a point of talking to her just before they went in to dinner. He’d told her to contact him if she ever needed more information, then added with a chuckle that he probably wouldn’t give it to her.

“You nailed it, though,” said another agent, whose name she didn’t know.

The arrival of their entrées halted the conversation and the table talk soon turned to the food, which was excellent. Kelly started in on her fajita-seasoned steak and Deke did the same.

She looked around again, only half listening as Deke and the agents talked shop with the chief. Another guest returning to her table caught Kelly’s eye and smiled.

Kelly nodded and smiled back, wondering why the woman, who was probably past sixty, looked so familiar. With a start, she remembered where she had seen her before.

She waited for a lull in the conversation and lifted her head to talk to Deke in a low voice. “That woman over there—who is she? I know I saw her at Gunther Bach’s memorial service.”

Deke looked that way and grinned when he turned back to Kelly.

“That’s Frankie. I meant to introduce you to her before we came in, but I couldn’t find her in the crowd.”

“That would be because she’s only five feet tall.”

Deke rose, leaving his napkin on the table, and took Kelly’s elbow when she did the same. “Excuse us, people. We’re going to table-hop.”

“Don’t take too long,” his boss said jokingly, “I can’t be held accountable for missing desserts.”

Deke steered her across the room and filled her in. “Frankie is an agent. She was assigned to our team eighteen months ago. We needed someone next to Gunther Bach and she was perfect for the part.”

“She’s an agent? What a hoot.” Kelly waved to the older woman. “I never would have known.”

They reached the table and Frankie got up, standing to get a hug from Deke. “I’d like you to meet Kelly Johns,” he said, pulling out an empty chair for Kelly when Frankie sat down and finding another one for himself.

“I know her name,” Frankie said with a touch of amused exasperation. “And we’ve met before.”

“I can’t believe this,” Kelly said. “I may have to do a story on you some day.”

“No thanks. I’m two seconds away from retirement and I’m looking forward to peace and quiet,” Frankie said with mock sternness.

“Frankie’s seen it all,” Deke said. “Okay, true story: She helped nab a mob boss in Brooklyn once outside his favorite diner. He’d been tailed that far and Frankie came up to him when he left, asked him to—get this—help her cross the street to the hair salon. He couldn’t say no to a sweet old lady. We slapped cuffs on him after she was safely inside.”

Frankie laughed. “Nothing to it. What a blast.”

“So do you use your real name?” Kelly wanted to know. “Frances Berry, wasn’t that it?”

“I got that last name off a jelly jar. Frances is my real first name, but I go by Frankie. It’s Frankie Goodlett. And it’s very nice to meet you again, Kelly.”

They stayed and talked for a while until the desserts came out of the kitchen, held high on trays to scattered applause, followed by urns for coffee and tea on wheeled carts. A white-haired gentleman came over and sat down carefully between Frankie and Deke.

“Just in case,” he said to Kelly. “I don’t want him putting the moves on my wife.” He winked at Deke.

“Are you an agent too?” Kelly had to ask.

“Long retired. I started with Wild Bill at the OSS, then went covert in the Cold War until the USSR broke up. So I switched careers and became a crossing guard.”

“Kelly, about half of what Tom says is true. I’m going to leave it up to you to figure out which is which.” Frankie gave her husband a kiss on his wrinkled cheek. “Tom, this is Deke’s friend Kelly Johns.”

“From WBRX?”

“The one and only,” Frankie confirmed. “What kind of cake do you want, honey?”

“Any kind that I don’t have to stand up to get.”

Kelly was charmed. Obviously the Goodletts had been together for more years than she’d been alive. And they still had it going on.

T
he following day, Kelly settled into the backseat of the WBRX town car, giving the driver directions to the post office. She’d had her mail held when she’d left the rental condo. It had been a while since she’d bothered to pick it up.

The driver waited at the curb in a yellow zone while she went in to the low brick building and came out again, holding a rubber-banded bundle. Kelly tossed it into the backseat and got in.

“Where to?”

“The station. Thanks.”

She sorted through the items, setting the junk mail and catalogues aside and leaving the bills unopened. There was an envelope from the building manager of her rented condo.

Kelly opened it and took out a form letter, reading it as the town car whizzed through the Atlanta streets.

Kelly read the date. Tomorrow. It was a good thing she’d picked up the mail today. She picked up her smartphone and scrolled back through dozens of e-mails, stopping on a message with no subject that she hadn’t bothered to open. There it was. The condo manager liked to send out e-mail blasts to announce trivial improvements. This was major.

But Deke still hadn’t looked over—and under—her car. No way would she get into it until he did. The drive-by had left her more wary than ever.

“Skip the station,” she called to the driver. “I need to stop somewhere else first.”

“I got nothing else to do,” he said cheerfully.

Kelly gave him the directions. Then she took out her smartphone and left Deke a message. If he could meet her there before she was scheduled for hair and makeup later in the afternoon, both issues would be taken care of.

Deke called back almost immediately. “Kelly—I don’t know how that slipped my mind. Sorry.”

“No harm done. I haven’t gone near the car or the condo since I left.”

They agreed to meet at the garage in forty-five minutes, enough time for him to grab some gear. Kelly asked the driver to pull into temporary parking by the building’s entrance as she stayed in the car, waiting for Deke.

Through the glass, the doorman acknowledged her with a tip of his hat, but she didn’t recognize him. There had been other changes during her absence. Large urns filled with flowers stood by the side of the doors. A uniformed employee was polishing the brass framework.

It was a nice building, but it was never going to be home again. Kelly didn’t want to go up to the condo. She hadn’t missed it.

She read through new e-mails while she waited for Deke to show. The driver turned on the radio and low, soulful music drifted back to her.

There was a quick honk. Kelly looked through the rear window. The armored SUV was behind the town car. She gave the station driver instructions to wait and got out to go to Deke.

He was leaning over the passenger seat, pushing open the door for her. “This won’t take long,” he said. “I have to get back. There’s a follow-up meeting on the cash sting with the truck.”

“Let me know how it goes.”

“You’ll be the first. It’s turned into a media stunt,” he said, pulling away and driving toward the ramp to the parking garage. “Sorry I can’t give you an exclusive.”

“Not a biggie. We’ll run a story on it anyway.”

Deke slowed and rolled down his window when a fair-haired young guy in a security guard uniform approached the SUV.

Kelly looked in her purse. “I need my building ID. That’s how residents get in and out of the garage without the valet service.”

“Here comes the guard.”

“Hi, Curt.” She found the ID and gave it to Deke, who handed it to the guard to examine.

“Hello, Ms. Johns. Is this a new vehicle for you?”

“No. It belongs to my friend. I’m here to—”

A blaring horn behind them captured the guard’s attention.

“Excuse me.” He returned the ID to Deke and moved away to talk to the impatient driver.

“We can go up,” Kelly said. “The ramp’s on your left.”

Deke was looking intently into the rearview mirror. “Okay.”

He turned to get a better look at the car behind them, a luxury model in silver.

Kelly did too. “Is there a problem?”

“I was thinking I’d seen the driver before. You can’t now. He flipped down the sun visor.”

Kelly faced forward. “Fancy car. He can afford to live here. He probably forgot his ID.”

The silver car backed up in response to the guard’s energetic wave and drove over to the side.

Deke turned the steering wheel and took the SUV up several connected ramps, coming out on the roof. There were only a few vehicles. Kelly’s car had a lot of room around it, but he parked several spaces away.

Deke held out a hand. “Keys please.”

“You can use the remote to unlock it and pop the hood and trunk.” She singled out the main key and handed him the whole ring.

Deke did all three from inside the SUV. With the hood and trunk open, the car looked disabled. But there was no one around to notice that or offer help.

“Stay here,” he said, grabbing a duffel bag filled with odd gear.

Maybe it was overkill, Kelly thought to herself. But she was grateful that he was checking things out. She watched through the window as he went to her car, using a wand thingy to inspect it from below. Then he inspected the engine and went around to the trunk.

Deke saved the interior of the car for last. The wand touched the Lone Star decoration hanging from her mirror, making it swing. He bent down to reach under the seats and into the foot-wells.

“Not getting a beep,” he called to her.

She got out and went over. “What is that thing?”

“State-of-the-art sensor. Almost as good as a trained dog.” He put it back in the open duffel bag.

The stack of file boxes on the passenger seat caught Kelly’s eye. “Would it be okay to put those boxes in the SUV?” she asked. “I’d rather not leave them in the car if I’m going to put it in a public garage.”

“Sure.” He went around and got two off the top, leaving one box for her. They got them squared away and Deke handed her the ring of keys and the remote.

“I should warm up the engine,” she said. “Sometimes it dies on me. I’ve been meaning to replace the battery.”

Deke waited by the back of the SUV as she walked over and shut the hood and the trunk. She went around to the passenger side to retrieve a few more scattered papers and put the key in the ignition, relieved to hear the car start. She walked back to him.

“I forgot my purse,” she said. “It needs a minute or two anyway.”

He seemed to be listening to the engine. “Runs rough,” he commented.

“Guess this is my chance to get it serviced.” Kelly went around to the passenger side of the SUV, reaching for her purse as Deke climbed into the driver’s seat and shut his door, rolling up the window.

She straightened and looked at him. He opened his mouth to say something but she didn’t hear it. In a split second the shock wave from the bomb hit, rocking the SUV. Deke reached over and grabbed her, hauling her in.

The air shimmered with sudden heat. Acrid dust billowed out toward them, stinging her eyes and searing her throat. Deke was coughing too hard to speak.

Kelly was able to think straight for a few seconds more and dragged her seat belt twistedly over her shoulder, clicking it somehow. Through his window she caught a glimpse of the fireball that engulfed most of her car. Thick black smoke curled out of the hood, rising higher and faster by the second. She scrambled to slam the door on her side as Deke turned the key in the ignition and jammed his foot down on the accelerator.

They were halfway down the top ramp when the car exploded above them. The force of the blast slammed them into a retaining wall. There was a thud inside. Momentarily stunned, Deke stared at her, his eyes unfocused. Then with an effort that was half animal strength and half willpower, he forced the wheel to turn and pulled away with a screech of tires.

Kelly had nothing to brace herself with. She clutched the seat belt as the armored SUV sped around the curving ramps, going faster as he reached the ground floor.

Ahead of them was the entrance to the parking structure, but there was no sign of the guard. Deke gunned the engine and raced out, forced to brake against his momentum when he saw people up ahead. Not all of them were looking up at the roof. Several were crouched around a motionless figure on the asphalt who was staring at the sky.

Gasping for breath, Kelly glanced toward the group and realized it was the guard. She saw his mouth open and a trickle of blood ran down the side. His eyes closed, then opened again. He was alive. Maybe not for long.

Deke had already slowed. He swung over and threw the gearshift into park. “I’ll do what I can. Don’t get out.”

Kelly heard a distant siren begin to wail.

 

Deke rubbed his forehead, then winced and lifted his hand. A bruise almost hidden by his hair was purpling. Kelly knew better than to mention it. He wouldn’t care.

Lieutenant Dwight had brought them to the station and into a private room where Hux met them. The armored SUV had been left at the secured scene for inspection by the bomb squad.

“There must have been a tail on the WBRX car from the time it left the station,” Deke said. “This guy likes to make sure he’s done his job. If you hadn’t gone to your car, he would have found another way to eliminate you.”

“Sick bastard probably gets a kick out of seeing his victims get hurt,” Hux muttered.

“I never noticed him.” Kelly looked anxiously at both men.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Hux assured her. “The bombing was in the works for a while. We spoke to the condo manager. The letter and the e-mail were both bogus. The wild card was when and whether you would return to the apartment.”

“And I did.”

“No question that your stalker is patient and a professional,” Hux said. “Ex-military would be my guess. The bomb squad said the materials and probable mechanism indicate it. Simple but effective. The bomb wasn’t on a timer and he didn’t have to set it off remotely. The heat of the engine would do that. He knew his stuff.”

Kelly shook inside. “But not that my car takes forever to warm up. I got lucky.”

“You saved your own life when you walked away,” Hux said. “The guard almost bought it. The driver of the silver car hit him head-on trying to escape. We’re getting complete statements from the witnesses now.”

He looked over at Deke. “You okay, pal?”

“The medic said I was.”

“And he told you to get a recheck before tonight,” Kelly reminded him.

“Later. Not now.”

She had expected a reply like that, but she looked at him with concern, then turned to his partner. “Hux, do you know where the guard was taken?”

“I can find out.”

Hux pulled out his smartphone and texted somebody. She and Deke were silent. The soft chime of an incoming answer echoed in the room.

“Atlanta General. He’s still critical,” Hux said.

“Can you take us there?” she asked.

“Say when,” he replied.

Deke stood up as if every muscle in his body ached. Kelly knew how he felt. Terror had been followed by a strange stiffness that she fought against with every step. But they had escaped with their lives.

 

The nurse at the front desk of the ICU ward was polite, but she made it clear that only family members were allowed past her.

Kelly looked down the wide hall. Outside a room stood a middle-aged woman with the same fair hair as Curt, and a younger one who was probably his girlfriend or wife. They seemed to be keeping vigil. A doctor came out and spoke to both women. The three of them went in together.

She looked up at Deke, who put an arm around her shoulders as they walked back to the elevators. His reassuring hold conveyed emotions neither could voice.

“One way or another, we’re going to get the bastard,” he said quietly. “But you have to stay out of the line of fire. That’s an order.”