Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
B
laine glanced down at his vibrating phone, saw Tripp’s number and grabbed it from the table. “Excuse me a second,” he said to the others and headed for the entrance of the restaurant as he answered. “Tripp. What’s up?”
“This a bad time?”
“No, meeting’s done. I’m just having lunch with them.”
“Good, because I need a favor.”
Tripp never asked anyone for anything. “I’m intrigued. What kind of favor?”
“We’ve got a code that needs breaking.”
“What kind of code?”
“It’s related to the ammo cache Willow found. Looks like whoever’s responsible might have been communicating with it using a library book.”
“What?” he said on a laugh. “Wait, are you serious?” It was so old school. Like something out of a spy thriller from the 40s.
“Dead serious. If they went to the trouble to stockpile and bury the ammo, they’re already paranoid. Maybe they’re avoiding using electronics so they won’t leave a digital trail.”
“That’s pretty next level paranoia for the locals here, considering over half of them are retirees, but okay, it’s possible. What do you want me to do?”
“I was thinking Maddy might be able to do something with it.”
He blinked. “I haven’t spoken to her in a year.” Not since their last assignment overseas together before he’d left the intelligence world behind and moved here to start his new business. “Last I heard, she was on assignment in Iran.”
“Think you could still reach her?”
“I’ll track her down.”
“Great, thanks. I’m sending you pictures of what we have. Pretty sure the people we’re dealing with here aren’t rocket scientists, but none of us can figure out what the hell it means, so I’m hoping it won’t take her long to crack it.”
No, Blaine doubted it would take her long either. Maddy was the best at what she did. “Okay, I’ll get hold of her. Stand by.”
Today was getting more and more interesting by the hour. The meetings had gone well. Better than he’d expected, to be honest. The project had been approved and was officially going ahead, and now he was invested in this latest mystery unfolding here on Skelly.
Standing in a patch of shade off to the side of the sidewalk, he noticed a tall, slender woman with short black hair coming toward him as he made his first call. She was good-looking, with black cargo pants and a snug black T-shirt that hugged her lean torso, outlining the curve of her breasts.
“Hey, I need a number for one of our contractors in Syria last year,” he said into the phone.
The woman walked past him, started to reach for the restaurant door handle.
He leaned over and grabbed it for her, pulled it open.
She flashed him a quick smile and kept going. “Thanks.”
He nodded, spoke to the person he had on the line while watching the woman walk into the restaurant. She looked as good going as she did coming. “Okay, got it,” he said to his contact.
Two calls later, and he had the number he needed.
“Is this actually you, or am I being punked right now?” a familiar voice answered moments later.
He chuckled. “Please, I know you’ve probably got my ID and location triangulated on a screen in front of you right now, or you wouldn’t have answered.”
“Ah, you know me so well. How the hell are you?”
“Fantastic. Living the dream.” Life on Skeleton Island was a major adjustment, but it was probably just what he needed.
“Yeah? That’s good to hear.”
“Where are you right now, anyway?”
“Edinburgh.”
“You on a job there?”
“No, I’m on vacation. Got tickets to the Royal Military Tattoo tomorrow and everything.”
“You actually take vacations?” News to him.
“On occasion. So, former boss, what can I do for you? I’m assuming you didn’t call just to shoot the shit.”
“No. Got a bit of a mystery on my hands and wondered if you’d help me out with it.”
“A mystery? What kind?”
He outlined what he knew. “I realize it’s not a matter of national security or anything, but—”
“Shut up. You had me at code or maybe even mystery, and you knew it. Which is why you called, to exploit my geeky weakness. Damn you, Blaine, you know I can’t resist something like this,” she said without heat. “Even when I’m on vacation.”
“It’s not priority level one. It can wait until after the Tattoo.”
A heavy sigh filled the line. “Well, now I have to see how easy or complex it is. Dammit.” She paused, and he could hear a faint, rhythmic clicking in the background as she worked the keyboard.
One of several, he was sure. Her capabilities were beyond impressive. If he hadn’t known for sure that she was one of the good guys, he would have been scared of her.
“I don’t have to leave for another couple hours,” she finally said. “But you realize this means you’ll owe me.”
“Fair. What do you want?”
“A week at your new place on the island,” she said so quickly she must have been thinking about it long before this phone call. “I’d love to hole up in your secluded house on the Salish Sea, unplug for a while, and stare out at the ocean. And a helicopter ride,” she added without missing a beat.
He grinned. He’d love to have her come stay. It’d been way too long since they’d seen each other. “That’s it?”
“For now, yeah.”
“Done.”
“Cool.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “No take backs.”
“I would never.”
“Better not. All right, I’m too invested to pass this up. Leave it with me. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have something.”
“You’re the best, Mads.”
“I’m aware. Later, former bossman.” She hung up.
He tucked his phone into his back pocket and went back inside the restaurant to rejoin his table.
Only to stop in his tracks when he saw the hot woman from a few minutes ago standing next to his table with her hands on her hips as she spoke to his business associates.
Based on her body language and the startled looks on their faces, she was telling them off.
He strode over. “Can I help you?”
The woman looked over at him. “Are you Blaine Slater?”
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
She turned to face him full on, and he was taken aback at the pure rage burning in her stunning silver eyes. “Is it true that you’ve just bought the big parcel of land on Cedar Point for another development project?”
“Who’s asking?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Me, and my scientific colleagues who don’t want to see our research station demolished so you can get even richer putting up a half-billion dollar luxury hotel to decorate your personal Monopoly board.”
Quite an accusation. He held her furious stare, staying calm. “It’s not a hotel, it’s—”
“I don’t give a fuck what it is,” she fired back.
If looks could kill he would be on the floor right now, twitching like a dying bug.
“That research station is on land donated to our foundation by a local patron more than thirty years ago. You can’t just come in and take it out from under us because you’re obscenely rich and want to make even more disgusting amounts of money off our oceanfront property. ”
Wow, she definitely wasn’t a fan of his. “What’s your name?”
She lifted her chin. “Xanthe.”
“Xanthe. I can see you’re really upset about this. Would you like to discuss this in private at my office? I can show you the paperwork. It’s all legal.”
Her jaw worked for a moment, and the flash of pain in her eyes was all too real. Telling him this was incredibly personal for her. Emotional. Something he preferred to avoid, in business and in intelligence work. “Just because it’s legal doesn’t make it right.”
Maybe not, but the deal was done. And completely above board. The trust had approached him about selling the property. He didn’t bother telling her because he doubted she would care. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
Her eyes chilled to chips of ice at his answer.
“No, you’re not. But this isn’t over.” She raked the others with a scathing glare before focusing on him again.
And now her eyes were like frozen steel.
“If I have to fight you every single day for the rest of my life to keep this from happening, so be it. See you in court.” She spun on her heel and marched away, leaving them all staring after her in silence.
He raised his eyebrows and slid into his seat to join the others. “Who is she?”
“I dunno, some tree-hugger fanatic losing her mind over the land being sold,” one of the men said.
“Dr. Xanthe Lazos is a marine biologist with a PhD from the University of Washington, actually. Very highly respected in her field,” the local councilman in their group said, censure in his tone. “She’s been living here for about six years now, doing research on whales.”
“Oh, of course, gotta prioritize the whales over prime oceanfront real estate and leave it sitting there unused forever because of a dilapidated research station on it.” The mid-sixtyish investor across the table rolled his eyes.
“Does this mean we’re gonna have to worry about a bunch of out-of-work environmental freaks chaining themselves to the rocks and trees to stop the construction equipment when it rolls in?
Why don’t they move the damned thing then! ”
The councilman looked uncomfortable. “It’s not just scientists like Xanthe who will be upset about the project. A lot of locals won’t like it either. Including the militia...”
The mid-sixtyish guy snorted. “Please, don’t insult actual militias by calling that bunch of uneducated, paranoid redneck freaks that name. It’s all just talk anyway.”
Blaine frowned. “What militia?” That was completely illegal.
The others looked at him. “It’s supposedly an underground movement that started here on the island a long time ago,” the councilman said, his expression troubled.
“But the rumor is, it gained traction the past couple years, and it’s spread to some of the other islands.
There’s talk that they’re linked to a wider network on the mainland. ”
“Stop it,” the older man said, voice full of disdain. “They’re nothing but a gang of gun-toting, wannabe tough guys with delusions of secretly running the island.”
The ammo cache. And Tripp’s comment about whoever was using the code being paranoid of using tech. That lined up way too well with this homegrown militia, and Blaine had been around long enough not to believe in coincidence.
He stood. “You’ll have to excuse me. I need to take care of something.”
He was halfway to his Audi when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Maddy. “Hi, Mads. All good?”
“Better than good,” she said smugly. “I already cracked it.”