Until Midnight (10 page)

his search, and found nothing.

But dealing with someone like Henderson and illegal trafficking made him wary.

And he was alone on this job with her. Headquarters had asked if he needed backup

and he had requested it, but it could take ten to twenty-four hours before the alternate would be in place. They’d call with the signal when that happened. Until then, it was up to him to have all his antennae up. Nicki, too. As if she didn’t already, he thought to himself as he grabbed her hand and headed for the elevator, the lobby and the front doors.

As if they were reading each other’s minds, they strolled up E Street as if they were tourists. They cut in front of the Treasury and over to the 1600 North Portico of the White House. Sightseers wandered about, gaping at the green expanse of the White

House lawn and the alabaster home. No cars had been allowed here in front for more 73

Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand

than fifteen years, so pedestrians—including anyone who might be trailing Adam and Nicki—could be easier to spot. But Adam saw no one unusual.

Nicki didn’t either and told him so with a glimmer in her eye. “I can’t believe how many tourists are out here!”

“Let’s get a bite to eat, shall we?” he offered as they made their way toward

Seventeenth Street past the Executive Office Building and a line of taxis waiting for foot-weary travelers to hire a cab. He stuck his arm in the air and one zoomed to their side.

Adam said “Georgetown” to the young black driver who cracked his gum loudly

and spoke with a South African accent. “You can drop us at the corner of M and

Wisconsin,” he told the kid as he glanced at Nicki and showed her the list of four addresses on his SMARTPHONE of where they were headed.

“Didn’t want him to know where we were going, right?” she commented as they

trekked north on the thoroughfare filled with ritzy old neighborhood shops.

“Not a chance.”

As they stopped to admire the fresh oysters and crabs in the window of a seafood

restaurant, they glanced up and down the avenue. “No one’s interested in where we’re headed.”

“We’ll continue to check,” he said under his breath. “Come on. Our first one is

across the street.”

The minute they opened the heavy glass doors to the place called Sweet Scents, the overpowering aroma of scented candles and oils hit Adam. “How does anyone even

know what to order in a place like this?” Adam muttered. “You’d need to have the

lining of your nose replaced after being in here.”

“Ssh.” Nicki began to lift a few of the expensive soaps and candles to catch the

fragrances.

The shop was filled with customers, a fact that appealed to Adam who did not want

to call attention to themselves if they asked for packets of Pleasant Dreams. But moving 74

Until Midnight

quickly through the stock and reading labels, Nicki found them. “These,” she told the sales girl who looked like a college student on her part-time job, “are absolutely wonderful. You have only four packets left though. Do you have more in the back?”

The girl shook her head. “No, ma’am. We’re all out of that. It’s a big seller.”

I bet.
Adam leaned over to Nicki and said, “Honey, if you really like it, perhaps we can order a big supply from the manufacturer.” He looked at the clerk. “Is that

possible?”

“Oh, yes, sweetie,” Nicki said to Adam. “Great idea!” And of the clerk, she asked,

“Do you have the name of the manufacturer?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Would you please look?”

“Um. Well. I’m not even sure where to look for that.”

Swell.
Adam lifted his face toward the glass window where he could see a back office computer and file cabinets. “You must have records of purchasing orders.”

“The owner does all that.”

Nicki stepped toward the girl. “Could you call the owner?” She smiled. “We’d be

happy to wait.”

Within minutes the girl was back to say she’d gotten voice mail. “I can leave her a note.”

“I’ll call her,” Nicki said. “When will she be in again?”

“Tuesday.”

The next shop, two blocks north, had a proprietor who was not much more help.

The only information they could get from this woman was that she’d received a

promotional email, ordered the packets through the mail, was pleased with their sales success, and paid online via PayPal.

As soon as the woman gave him the name of the company, Adam emailed his

headquarters and asked them to trace its provenance.

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“But it could take them a few hours,” he told Nicki as he took her arm. “Let’s head south and look at this last one.”

“My guess is the money goes directly into Henderson’s Swiss account, and

Calderon gets paid out of there by wire transfer,” Nicki suggested as they crossed M

Street heading toward the Potomac.

“I’d say you’re right,” Adam agreed. “We’ll have to see which way the money

flows, from Henderson to Calderon or vice versa.”

Once more they stood before a shop window. This one fronted a small antique

store.

Playing his part, Adam smiled at Nicki and pointed to a decrepit Louis XIII Rococo chair. “Imagine. Something we’ve always wanted.”

She raised a brow. “Like me,” she affirmed and led him inside.

The place was decorated in early federal style, with fraying blue wallpaper, pale

peach Aubusson rugs worth a small fortune and stocked in antiques only the
ancien
régime
of France and the well-heeled patricians and doyennes of Washington savored.

That the place also smelled of mold made Adam wince. But the next aroma that hit his nostrils was much more appealing.

He inhaled a huge draught of it and wondered if this might be the drug they

tracked.

He inhaled again and immediately felt better. Happier. Relaxed.
Hell. No wonder this
stuff is a hit.

Just then, Nicki bent down and ooed and ahhed over a porcelain bowl.

“Good afternoon,” an older gentleman ambled up to them, steepling his fingers

together. Impeccably dressed in dark gray suit with blue foulard tie and matching

hanky in his breast pocket, he had the demeanor of an aging connoisseur and roué.

Adam bristled at the very idea this man might be peddling bad joss to anyone. “Do you 76

Until Midnight

like Spode?” the clerk asked Nicole. “This is from our wider collection of eighteenth century pieces.”

“I adore it,” she enthused softly just like an avid collector might. “I find this an exceptional piece. You have other pieces?”

Adam smiled, but was careful to make the expression appear more like the tolerant

husband who allows his wife her amusing eccentricities.

Mr. Foulard gave Adam a kindly nod of understanding. “We do. More than ten

from one customer. On consignment, you see.”

“Is there a set price or may we negotiate?”

“Of course we may discuss the asking price. Follow me, would you please?”

Adam ground his teeth together. Forbearance. He smiled thinly at the man and

followed Nicki toward the back room. Minutes later, Nicki demurred and proclaimed

herself uninterested in the set of four teacups and saucers, circa 1810. But she did sigh, rather convincingly Adam thought, and then raised her nose in the air. “I must say, what is that wonderful fragrance?”

Oh, brother.
Adam had to keep from laughing out loud.

By the time they stepped outside into the sunshine, Adam noted they not only had

the name of the distributor and an address in Chesapeake, Virginia but they also had a noticeable tail.

Grabbing Nicki’s hand, Adam drew her close, kissed her cheek like a lover and said in a low voice, “Walk casually, talk to me. Pretend you’re hungry and point out the restaurant at the end of the block.”

She grew instantly aware of his intent. “Where?”

He knew she meant to inquire where she should look to spot their trackers.

“Across the street. Jeans. Neon green Keds. This side, black slacks, white tee, Ray-Bans. Scruffy.”

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Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand

“Wonderful!” She smiled, feigning that she noted the restaurant, but he could see

she scanned one target, then the other. “Let’s go. Not there.” Her eyes met Adam’s and held. “I want steak. Trust me,” she said gaily for anyone nearby whom they might not have pegged as tails. Then she fell in beside him and told him, “I know this place well.”

A block later, Adam pushed open the door of the steak house and bar, then she

tugged him into the dark, noisy interior.

“We’ll take a booth in the back,” Nicki said to the waitress who wanted to seat them up front. Down the long hall toward the rear, Nicki picked up her pace with Adam

close behind.

“Here,” he whispered as he pulled her to the rear through a connecting door and

spun around to take them both out into an old alley.

Breaking into a jog, she headed south.

“Where are you going?” he asked as he kept pace.

“The river.”

He heard a shout and then another. “They’re on us.”

“No.” She grabbed him by the sleeve at the next corner and sank back into a vine-

covered alcove big enough for two.

The guy in Ray-Bans zoomed past. Neon Tennis Shoes was on his heels.

Nicki tugged at Adam and nodded toward the east. “Four blocks,” she mouthed

and pointed east. “Then—” She held up three fingers and pointed south.

As soon as the footsteps died away, Adam and Nicki broke out of their hole.

The day was sunny, hot and at the end of the four blocks, Adam had a sweat. Quick

glances told him no one was on them. Nicki maintained her racer’s pace. He had to give it to her that he had a challenge keeping up.

Suddenly, she pivoted, leading them toward a large building and turning to the left toward the river. “Down here,” she told him on a breath.

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Until Midnight

All he saw was a steep embankment, filled with detritus and tall grasses. “What the hell is this?” he asked as he followed her down the hill toward the rushing waters.

“A set of stairs. Stones. Flat. Gray. See? Look for them.”

“What the hell?” he said as he discerned the aged, mossy stones set into the side of the hill.

“Almost two centuries old.”

“What are they?” he asked as he picked his way down.

“Stairs to freedom,” she said.

He laughed.

“From the Underground Railroad.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Never. Slaves rowed across from Virginia. In the night.” She was choosing her

footing more and more carefully. “Climbed up these steps. Taken north by conductors.”

“Conductors?”

“Abolitionists.” She reached a hand up to him. “Come on, big boy.”

Adam had to chuckle as he let her help him down.

She led him onto a narrow ledge and she pointed ten feet below them. “Along this

shoreline is a fisherman who goes out for rockfish and crabs each morning. I know him.

Well.”

Adam chuckled. “Each minute, I’m finding new things about you I love.”

The sudden confession had him looking at her with new respect and hope.

Her eyes glistened. Her mouth formed words she couldn’t seem to say. She cupped

his chin and reached up to kiss his lips. “Can I show you later just how mutual that feeling is?”

He kissed her back, fleeting as the kiss had to be. “Deal.”

“For now?” She was back to business.

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Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand

“Yeah, what do we do here to get down? No more stones right?”

“Right. Looks like they’ve worn away since I was last here. So we jump.”

“And break our legs?” He wasn’t ready to do that, by god.

“Either that or we slide.”

He harrumphed. “We slide, baby. Come on. This I know how to do.” He grabbed

her hand, told her to hang on to the tall grasses and let herself hug the earth, go for any toe hold she could get.

Ten feet didn’t seem like a big deal, but the going was messy, muddy and the last

few feet came with jarring slams into the earth. Adam went down first, then caught Nicki around the waist to lower her. The two of them wound together, breathing

heavily and gasping for air.

He brushed her hair back from her grime-covered face. “Still damn beautiful.”

“Feeling kind of ugly, though,” she joked.

“Look fine to me,” came a bass voice from a tall man who came around the

escarpment. Ray-Bans. White tee.

Adam did a quick scan of the shore. An older man in a slicker who must have been

Nicki’s friend the fisherman stood, his arms behind him, hang dog, his eyes sad.

“Nicole,” he said, but had no time to say more as Neon Tennis Shoes knocked him

out with the butt of a gun to the back of his head. The fisherman crumpled like an old doll.

“
Hank?”
Nicki cried out.

“So much for Hank,” said Ray-Bans. “Get the boat over here, French.”

Adam whirled toward Ray-Bans, but a third man came around from behind French

and pointed a gun at him. “Enough! Walk!”

Adam bent to reach for the knife in his boot. He saw Nicki open her mouth to

scream as he felt his knees hit the rocks, and the sun, once so damn bright, went out like a light.

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Until Midnight

Nicki came slowly awake, swimming up through a thick fog. She couldn’t breathe.

She was suffocating. Something was in her nose. In desperation she summoned the

strength to force her eyes open.

The first thing she realized was she was lying on a concrete floor and it was damn uncomfortable. What the hell? Her next conscious thought was that something was

covering her nose, obviously the cause of her breathing problems. She lifted a hand, slowly because her limbs seemed encased in concrete, and discovered a plastic mask like those used for oxygen clamped over her nose and strapped to her head. Some little kernel of thought deep in her brain told her she needed to get rid of it as fast as she could.