Silent Weapon Page 17

  “I think you’re going soft on me,” Adcock offered. He leaned back in his leather executive chair and pumped up the whole I’ve-got-you-right-where-I-want-you look of triumph.

  “I’m telling you she’s getting personally involved with the players and that increases the risk.” Barlow wanted more than anything in this world to climb over that desk and beat the hell out of the arrogant bastard.

  Adcock straightened the lapels of his suit, the one that likely cost a month’s salary and no mere chief should be able to afford. “You said the whole operation was a risk, now you’re complaining when it actually starts to pay off. What’s going on here, Barlow?” He eyed Steven skeptically. “You letting this get personal yourself?”

  The whole conversation was pointless. Steven threw up his hands. “Fine. You let her get herself killed.” He braced his hands on his superior’s desk and allowed him to see just how pissed off he was. “I’ll make sure everyone knows you let this happen.”

  Adcock sat up straight, the whole good-old-boy demeanor disappearing in the blink of an eye. “Don’t you threaten me, you piece of shit. You wouldn’t even have a shield at this point if it wasn’t for that idiot Kent. You do whatever you have to do to keep her alive. If she ends up dead it won’t be anyone’s fault but yours. Now, get the hell out of my office. I don’t want to see your face again until you have something we can use to take Hammond down.”

  Steven walked out of Adcock’s office without making a response. What was the use? Adcock wasn’t going to change his mind any more than Steven was.

  One way or another, the next time he got Merrilee Walters away from Hammond, he had to make sure he kept her away. As badly as he wanted to win this, he didn’t want her to end up dead.

  Maybe Adcock was right. Maybe he was going soft. There had to be a way to do this without getting an innocent, untrained civilian killed.

  Chapter 13

  Going out last evening had proved impossible.

  The rest of the day frustration had played havoc with my ability to think clearly. When six o’clock finally arrived, Hammond had asked me to watch Tiffany for the evening so that Cecilia could join him for dinner in town.

  Talk about infuriating. I’d wanted to tell him not to trust her, that she and Vargas were up to something, but, thankfully, my brain had somehow managed to fend off the stupidity long enough for me to do the right thing.

  Too bad it had been a little slow on the uptake. I still couldn’t believe that I’d practically had sex with Mason Conrad.

  My shuffling of magazines on the table in the parlor abruptly ceased as the images frolicked through my mind, leaving me helpless to do anything but get warm and tingly all over again.

  What had I been thinking?

  This assignment did not include having almost-sex with one of the players involved. If I’d had any question on that score, Barlow had made it more than clear in our meeting at the hot dog joint.

  Why hadn’t I listened?

  I puffed out a lungful of frustration and plopped the stack of magazines into a reasonably neat pile. I forced myself to move about the room, tidying as I encountered anything out of place.

  My mother would say I’d lost my mind. I stilled. My mother could never, ever know about the incident. The family, those who were supposed to love me the most, would skip counseling altogether and go straight for having me committed as quickly as possible.

  I glanced at the clock for the hundredth time. It read 5:58. I might as well put my few cleaning utensils away and get ready to go. Since no one had approached me to do otherwise, I planned to go into town. I swallowed back another lump of apprehension. Staying here all day, knowing what I knew, was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

  Connie and Marjorie were eyeball-deep in dinner preparations when I passed through the kitchen. I hurried and put my things away in the laundry room and checked to see that the coast was clear before I went to my room. The fewer people I ran into the less likely I would get waylaid. I had to check in with Barlow, had to pass along this information.

  As I quickly changed, I considered how much simpler it would be to just call him and tell him what I knew. But he and the chiefs had feared that calling from anywhere on the property, even using my nifty secure cellular phone he’d provided, wouldn’t be safe. Though I’d certainly had my moment of stupidity, I hadn’t crossed into complete idiocy just yet.

  I tugged on a T-shirt, fastened my jeans and slid my feet into comfortable mules. I didn’t bother taking my hair out of the French twist I’d fashioned it into for work. I grabbed my purse, tossed the PDA into it and took a slow, deep breath before sneaking out into the corridor.

  The coast was clear when I checked first left then right. Good. I slipped into the hall and headed for the front door. If Connie or Marjorie saw me out of uniform with my purse in tow, they would know I was planning to escape for a while and I would be forced to answer the inevitable questions. Where are you going, Miss Merri? Didn’t you just go out the other night? Got yourself a boyfriend in town?

  I hated lying unless it was absolutely essential to my continued good health under present circumstances.

  The entry hall was deserted as well. Thank goodness. I’d almost made it to the door when I felt a firm hand land on my shoulder.

  To my supreme relief I didn’t jump out of my skin. I’d almost grown accustomed to having one or more of a dozen people walking up behind me when I least expected it.

  My relief was short-lived when I turned and found myself toe to toe with Cecilia. From the expression on her face she was ready to launch an interrogation of her own into my activities.

  It wasn’t like I hadn’t been expecting this. I’d just hoped to delay it for a little while longer.

  I manufactured a smile. “I thought I’d go into town. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

  For a second that turned to ten she stared at me without making a response, then as if she’d only just remembered, she held out her hand.

  Keeping my cheery mask of innocence in place, I reached into my bag, retrieved the PDA and placed it in her palm.

  Her movements as she entered the message were stilted as if she barely contained her anger. I braced myself for whatever she had to say. It wouldn’t be good. Her overpowering perfume offended my nostrils as it usually did. Not the cheap stuff sold at budget retail outlets. It was the hundred-dollar-an-ounce designer stuff and still I didn’t like it. Or maybe it was just her that I didn’t like. Somehow she intended to hurt Luther Hammond. Though he was no innocent by any stretch of the imagination, I despised disloyalty and this woman was as disloyal as they came. She was indifferent to Tiffany, a child, and she played the part of attentive and smitten employee in Hammond’s presence, all the while having an agenda of her own. She made me sick.

  The idea that I was doing something similar sat like a stone in my stomach. That was different, wasn’t it?

  With a glare of victory she passed the PDA to me. When I’d taken it, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited for my reaction.

  I know what you’re doing. It won’t work. Cut your losses or you’ll lose more than you bargained for.

  For a single instant the remote possibility that she knew what I was really up to sent a twinge of panic through me, then I realized the real import of the message.

  I looked her dead in the eye and said my piece, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But—” I said pointedly when she would have reached for the PDA once more “—if you’re talking about Tiffany, I would suggest that you watch your own step.”

  The look on her face at that moment could only be called murderous. She snatched the PDA out of my hand and entered another message before shoving it back at me. I’m talking about Luther, you stupid little bitch. Stay away from him or you’ll regret it.

  With that potent message glaring at me from the small screen she stormed off toward the parlor. I dropped the PDA back into my purse and walked out the door.

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nbsp; As I climbed into my car I thought of all the things I should have said to her like, I know what you’re up to as well. I saw you and Vargas together. But I couldn’t. That would only give her more reason to want me out of the way. I had to be careful around her. I stared up at the house as I circled the drive. She had been here long before me. Her opinion likely carried far more weight. I didn’t need her going to the boss about me.

  Not to mention that the boss’s daughter already knew my deepest, darkest secret. If she said anything, perhaps thinking she was defending me somehow, I would be in deep trouble. The kind Barlow had warned would get me killed. I shuddered and shifted my attention back to my escape.

  Once I’d made it through the gate, leaving the cozy community of Ledges behind, I fished out my cell phone and entered his number. The screen identified his voice after the first ring.

  “We have to talk” was all I had to say.

  He provided the destination and assured me he would be waiting for me there. Now, if I could just get through the meeting without telling him more than he needed to know.

  Our rendezvous was the safe house. The former church where we’d worked together what felt like months ago but was, in reality, just over one week ago. He made a pot of coffee and we sat at the table in the small kitchen as I related the events of the previous evening and my most recent encounter with Cecilia.

  Barlow didn’t speak for a long time after I’d finished. He got up, poured himself another cup of coffee and stared out the window over the sink for a time. It would be dark soon. I felt restless. A part of me wanted to get back on that mountain. Maybe it was nothing, but it felt like something big loomed on the horizon. Some instinct nagged at me that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

  Finally he turned back to me and started talking without preamble or comment on what I’d told him.

  I’ve known for several months now that Hammond’s West Coast associates weren’t happy with him.

  Well, that was news to me. We certainly hadn’t gone over that in the brief training session.

  I felt certain there would be a move to usurp his power. I went to Adcock with my concerns and he told me to forget Hammond and get on with my life. I ignored him and monitored the situation for further developments. Barlow sipped his coffee for a bit. I couldn’t tell whether he just needed the caffeine or dreaded saying the rest.

  Nothing happened, he went on. Then this opportunity presented itself and you know the rest.

  He was leaving something out. I could feel it. I pushed up from the table and walked straight over to him. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

  For a full minute I felt certain he wasn’t going to answer and then he did. Adcock didn’t want me digging around in this. But when I went over his head, he had no choice but to go along. He pretended the whole setup was his idea from the get-go. He’s been taking credit for it ever since.

  Now, there was something I hadn’t expected. “Why wouldn’t he want to bring down Hammond?” It didn’t make sense. My gut feeling when I met Adcock was that he wanted this as much as Kent did. The fact was, Barlow was the only one who’d bucked the operation. I kept that to myself.

  Barlow shook his head. I can’t answer that for certain. I believe it has more to do with me than with Hammond. If he’d had his way, I would have lost my shield four years ago.

  I’d read enough of Barlow’s case files to know he was one of the best detectives in Metro. The idea that Adcock would want to be rid of him was ludicrous. “What happened four years ago?”

  No sooner than the words were out of my mouth I remembered one particular incident that had happened four years ago. The mother of Hammond’s daughter had died from an overdose of drugs.

  The enigmatic detective’s lips tightened into a thin line, and he turned his back on me to stare out the window once more.

  I’d obviously hit a nerve. I got up from the table and walked over to stand next to him. He placed his cup in the sink and braced his hands on the counter.

  “I need to hear the rest,” I urged, in hopes of drawing him back into the conversation. I had a bad feeling about what he would tell me, but I recognized that I had to know what he was leaving out. My life might depend upon it.

  He turned to me with nothing short of reluctance. It’s my fault she’s dead.

  A frown tugged at my lips. “Who?” I knew the answer but I needed him to spell it out.

  Heather Masters. He looked away a moment. When his gaze collided with mine once more I could hardly bear to look at the pain there. She was my one mistake, he confessed.

  I watched his lips as he told me about his plan four years ago. Even back then Metro recognized what Hammond was up to. The difference was Barlow had decided to do something about it way before the bureau had gotten involved. He’d made it his mission in life to get acquainted with Hammond’s most precious plaything. A woman who’d borne him a child four years prior. Though he hadn’t married her, Hammond kept her close for the child’s sake. Barlow knew that he had other women as well. I found that odd, since I hadn’t seen him with any women, other than Cecilia.

  She trusted me, Barlow said. We became friends first, then lovers. Hammond ignored her needs, wanted her to focus solely on the child. Treated her like a high-paid baby-sitter.

  I could imagine what that must have felt like. I didn’t know the woman he spoke of, but I understood how awful the situation must have been for her.

  The plan was for me to use her. Barlow closed his eyes and shook his head. I did get some useful information, he admitted when he opened his eyes and continued once more. But I got too close, took too many chances and she ended up dead.

  He’d fallen in love with her. Oh, my God. He didn’t have to say it…I could see the hurt he’d suffered even now. “I’m sorry.” I put my hand on his arm and he flinched as if my touch had pained him somehow. “You think Hammond killed her?”

  His gaze landed on mine again and this time it was filled with fury and hostility. I know he did. He called me, told me where I could find the body. Warned me to stay out of his business. And there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it because I didn’t have any evidence.

  His words were like a sucker punch, knocked the wind out of me. How could the man I had come to know have done such a heinous thing? Then I remembered the way he’d looked when he gave his guest those orders the day I served in his private study. Yes, he was capable of murder. Definitely. He’d killed Tiffany’s mother as well as her godfather. My God…he was pure evil.

  “That’s why you didn’t want me for this assignment,” I said, the epiphany striking with the impact of a load of bricks falling right on top of me. No wonder he’d fought this operation so fiercely. He’d already been down this road.

  He took me by the shoulders, shook me gently. Don’t go back, Merri. I believe the coming hailstorm between Hammond and Mathers will take him down. I’m even more convinced after what you’ve just told me. That man you saw in the garage, he was one of Mathers’s men. His body probably won’t ever be found. Let them kill each other. I don’t care anymore.

  His words left me speechless. Was this his way of trying to protect me? Was he willing to dash this opportunity to keep me safe?

  All the reasons I’d had for coming into this suddenly sprang to mind. This wasn’t just about getting Hammond. This was about me. I had to do this. Had to prove I could. But no one else understood that primal need.

  I moved my head solemnly from side to side. “I can’t do that. I have to finish this.”

  He pushed away from me. Stormed around the room, muttering what appeared to be curses. I couldn’t be sure since he wouldn’t look directly at me. Outrage or frustration, maybe both, lined his face. Finally, hands on hips, he stalked back over to where I still waited. His nostrils flared with the anger twisting inside him. I knew I should be scared, just a little, or maybe nervous, but I wasn’t. Of all the people involved in this case, I knew without a doubt that Barlow would not
harm me.

  You’re making the biggest mistake of your life, he said, the difficulty of maintaining his composure apparent with every word he uttered.

  I looked him square in the eye and said what had to be said. “We all make mistakes, Detective. This has to be done. I have to do it.”

  He reached for me again but hesitated, then dropped his hands back to his side. Merri, I need you to think about why you’re doing this.

  That he kept calling me Merri and pressed me so urgently with that piercing gaze confused me. Was this some kind of trick to sway my decision? Nothing he could say or do would change my mind. He needed to understand that.

  “You’re not going to change my mind. I will see this through.”

  To prove you can do it even without your hearing?

  Fury scorched the softer emotions churning inside me. “Don’t pretend to know how I feel, Detective.” I refused to use his name. It suddenly felt too intimate.

  But I do know how you feel, he argued. You want to prove you can be whatever you choose to be and that’s great. He managed a halfhearted smile. That’s one of the things I admire most about you. But this is a mistake. This is too dangerous.

  I blinked, startled by his words or my own reaction to them. I wanted to rant at him for his preposterous presumptuousness, but another part of me wanted to bask in the idea that he admired anything about me.

  Don’t go back. This can be handled a different way.

  Any lingering softer feelings his words had garnered vanished on the heels of his last statement. In other words, I couldn’t handle it.

  I retreated a step, putting some distance between us. “I have to get back.”

  Just listen to me, he appealed. Bowing out of this operation won’t mean you failed—

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I interrupted. “Just back off.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. I didn’t give him a chance to regroup. I gathered my purse and draped it over my shoulder and prepared to go. He was my support system. Our meetings weren’t supposed to go down like this.