Chapter 4 #2
They half ran, slowing to a walk whenever anyone came into sight, through the same side streets, residential neighborhoods and backyards until they reached the parking lot of the grocery store.
They slipped inside, rushed through the back storeroom, and pushed through the double doors into the deli area.
By the time they swung around to the customer side of the glass case, Dane had made eye contact with Joe, an ex-marine deli man and part-time assistant investigator.
Shana slipped her phone from her small bag, still looking cool, but overdressed for shopping at the deli, and tapped in a number. He assumed she was calling Cap. Dane moved to the end of the counter to talk to Joe and she followed, nodding her head and listening.
“What’s up?” Joe asked.
“You see two guys in dark suits come through here?”
“You mean one tallish and one short, looked like Secret Service?”
“Those are the ones.” Dane half smiled.
“About eight, ten minutes ago. They looked around, had a short, tense conversation, then left a couple minutes later.”
Dane nodded.
“I won’t ask what’s up. ‘Bove my pay grade, I figure.”
Shana shoved her phone back into her bag.
“They’re on their way back. Left three minutes ago with an attitude. Cap told them he hadn’t seen us. He said to tell you the count is up to three cases. Dare I ask three cases of what?”
“Sure, but then I’d have to—”
She was looking over Dane’s shoulder when her chin went up. “Trouble at twelve o’clock high.”
“What do you think? We’re in a war movie?” He felt the approach of the two oppressive men and wondered if they knew how obvious and un-secret their presence was wherever they went.
“Where the hell have you been, Blaise?” Dane turned and stood in front of Shana, taking the full glare of the pair of scowls. Since they didn’t have their weapons drawn, neither the menacing look Andrews gave him nor the smirk from Goodley had any effect whatsoever.
Joe handed him a pound of baloney and he displayed it for Andrews. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You’re up to something. I know you went to see Lynch.”
Dane pushed past him.
“Where are you going?” Goodley said.
“Why bother asking?” Shana took Dane’s arm and walked with him. “You’re going to follow us anyway.”
“Meet us back at the house. Be there in ten minutes and don’t make us come looking for you.” Andrews was pissed. Dane looked over his shoulder to smile at him. He noticed Joe watching, arms folded. Now that Joe already knew something was up, Dane might enlist the old marine’s help with this one.
On the way to the Jeep he slipped out his phone and punched in Sassy Stephens’s number. He didn’t care if he was being listened to. They’d find out about it soon enough.
“Sassy, it’s your boss. I have an assignment for you.”
“Really? I mean, sure. What’s up?”
“It’s a babysitting assignment.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.
“Actually, it’s more like a house-sitting assignment. I need you to get over to the beach shack pronto and let yourself in. Pack for ten days.”
“Got it. Ronnie will be disappointed—”
Shana grabbed the phone from his hand before he had a chance to answer.
“Bring Ronnie with you.”
“I would have told her the same thing if you didn’t grab the phone from me.”
She put a hand over the phone. “Since when are you a romantic?”
He gave away nothing of his confusion, but he didn’t know what to say about his being a romantic or not, because he had no idea what she was talking about. A full second passed without a word.
“That’s what I thought.” She spoke into the phone again. “But don’t wait for Ronnie. Get over to the beach shack right away.”
“Great. This works out perfectly.”
“I know. You rented out your place.”
“Do you and Dane know everything?”
He smiled, leaning over her shoulder to listen in, he took the opportunity to breathe in her scent and nuzzle her neck She elbowed him.
He grabbed the phone back. “See you later, Sassy—oh, one more thing. We have a couple of Secret Service agents as house guests. They’ll be bunking in the office on cots. Set them up for me. You and Ronnie take the guest room.”
There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line.
“Sassy, I need you to keep an eye on these two when Shana and I are out. We’re counting on you.”
“Yes, sir.”
He signed off and they stood in the parking lot leaning on the Jeep, neither of them anxious to get inside.
“You’re going to have Andrews and Goodley bunk in the office on cots?”
“Where else? It’ll serve them right.”
“It’ll also be a good test to see how motivated they are to stay with us. I think the more willing they are to share tight quarters, the more suspect and nefarious their motives are.” Shana relaxed back with a satisfied look.
“When did you get to be the smart one in this partnership, girlie?”
She slapped his arm. “I have fresher brain cells is all.”
Dane hated when their age difference was obviated.
“We need Sassy to get there before Andrews and Goodley. I hope she knows how to pack faster than you.”
Instead of rolling her eyes as he’d expected, she gave him her mock deadly stare. Shana was learning and evolving. He felt a twinge of disappointment. He didn’t want her to change. Not too much, not from the woman he’d fallen in love with.
He pulled on her hair, twirling a lock around a finger. She didn’t tug it away from him and her look softened. If they stood this way, close and staring—simmering wasn’t too strong a word, even in the parking lot of the grocery store—they would start smoldering. He took a breath. Hell.
He wanted to smolder. He wanted to shove the Secret Service and the terrorist cell threat and all of the damn Beachcomber Investigations business off the deep end of a pier and spend his time smoldering with his soon-to-be bride.
Had he gone completely soft? What the hell was wrong with him?
Before he let on how he felt, before how he felt got any more obvious or insistent, he let go of her hair and stepped back from Shana “Kryptonite” George.
The damn President had a terrorist cell threatening assassination. It didn’t get any more important than this. Even if it was the President’s double visiting the island instead of the actual President, he and Shana had to do their part to shut down this cell.
The Secret Service wanted Dane and Shana to play a distraction at best and a target at worst, if Dane’s suspicions were correct.
“Let’s go visit the Gables’ and take a ride in their boat.”
Shana nodded. “Andrews will be royally pissed if we don’t show up in ten minutes as commanded.”
“An extra bonus.” Dane smiled.
Shana didn’t argue or even accuse him of being a smart-ass or lecture him about how this was the kind of attitude that got him in trouble.
She was smart enough to know that this meant he suspected with a high degree of certainty—his normal paranoia aside—that the Secret Service or other federal law enforcement agency had the beach shack and their other usual hangouts bugged.
That included their phones. And now that Agents Andrews and Goodley were installing themselves at the beach shack, they’d probably find a way to compromise their secure phone too. As Shana had smartly pointed out, why else bother to stay in such close quarters?
He jumped into the driver’s seat of the Jeep. Shana jumped into her side and turned up the radio as soon as he started the car. Then she leaned over and whispered loudly enough he shouldn’t have bothered.
“Are you going to evade when they follow us?”
He nodded.
“No. It won’t do them any good once we get out on the boat.”
“Not worried about involving the Gables?”
“Risk we’ll have to take. I suspect the agents know all about our ties with the Gables if they’ve done their homework with any degree of competence.”
Dane drove slower than usual so he could spot their tail. He didn’t figure it would be Andrews or Goodley and he wanted to get a look at who else the Secret Service had on them.
He drove the whole way with the windows wide open blowing a mind-numbing breeze through the vehicle. He hoped whoever was listening enjoyed the sound of rushing air and loud music because that’s all they would hear.
They arrived at the Gables’ estate-proportioned home, pulling up along the curved drive stopping under the portico at the front door.
Dane signaled for them to leave their cell phones in the car.
Shana nodded and removed hers from her small bag and tossed it next to Dane’s on the seat.
He hoped they didn’t melt in the heat inside the car, but he shrugged it off. Cost of doing business.
Instead of ringing the front doorbell, Dane took Shana’s hand and pulled her around the house to head out back to the expansive patio overlooking the ocean.
As he suspected, they found Gable and Mrs. Gable dressed in white and drinking something frothy as if they were waiting for the cameras to arrive to shoot a scene from The Great Gatsby.
“Look who’s here. I know from experience this is not a social visit,” Gable spoke as he stood. He took his glass with him, celery stalk and all. There was nothing but excitement sparkling in the man’s eyes. Or it could have been the effects of the morning’s bloody Mary.
“Don’t pretend you’re offended by the imposition,” Dane said.
Laura Gable swept her arm toward the chairs, inviting him and Shana to sit. They remained standing.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Gable said. “I’m offended that you think I was pretending to be offended.”
“Enough of the silliness,” Shana said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
If Dane didn’t know better, he’d think Shana had Big Ben clanging away on her shoulder, urging them on.
“I need your boat. Shana and I need to go for a ride.”
Gable stood there sipping his drink, apparently waiting for more, but Dane wasn’t inclined to give him an explanation.