Side by Side

33

In his hotel room, Clayton Able sat staring at the screen of his laptop computer. He was monitoring Winter Massey and Alexa Keen. The cellular phones Keen and Massey carried were marvels of modern design, feeding Clayton their geographic locations and performing as microphones that transmitted directly to his receivers, which were being monitored by people in the adjoining room. In addition, his people had wired Alexa’s car and her handbag.

The door to the room adjoining his was open, and he could see his technicians at work.

Clayton stood, turned toward the window, and yawned while stretching out his arms. Sitting at the keyboard made his back feel like someone had hit him high between the shoulders with a ball-peen hammer. It was dark out, and still raining. It had been two hours since Winter and Alexa had taken off to chase after Click.

“This Ferny Ernest thing is troubling,” the woman standing in the doorway said, scattering his thoughts.

“Ferny Ernest Smoot isn’t going to lead anyone to the Dockerys. I doubt the kid could even lead them to his father. Even so, Peanut wouldn’t be dumb enough to go near the Dockerys.”

“You didn’t know Click was trailing the judge,” the woman said accusatorily.

“If Massey hadn’t spotted Click in the lobby, I would have given them another trail to run to keep them busy until Monday. As it turns out, it may have been a godsend blind alley.”

“You didn’t need to include a picture of Click with the others,” the woman said.

“It was hopelessly outdated. Massey was-”

“Don’t you dare say lucky,” she chided.

“Click isn’t supposed to be connected to this. Dixie, Buck, and those twins are doing the actual work, and they’re out of circulation. Look, as long as we stay on top of Alexa and Massey, it will all work out and everybody wins.”

He studied his boss, someone he admired the way he would admire something pretty and dangerous to stand too close to. Clayton knew that if he was neck deep in quicksand, and if she didn’t need him alive, she’d watch him go under without altering her facial expression. She was also every bit as beautiful as she was conniving, and she was the most manipulative job of work he’d ever worked with. Clayton was glad he was on her side in this, because being on the other side was not an attractive alternative. You could ask anybody who’d ever gotten in this woman’s way-if you could find them. She’d come up the ranks from an MP grunt into a position of authority within Military Intelligence like she’d been shot there from a cannon.

This Bryce business had the potential to turn very ugly. Clayton hadn’t wanted Alexa to bring Winter Massey into this, but there hadn’t been any way he could stop her since the FBI agent was now the key to the thing smelling right after the dust settled.

“I always said Massey would be trouble,” Clayton told the woman.

“That need not concern you,” she said. “I made the decision, which was mine to make.”

“Massey’s reputation isn’t what it is because anyone can control him. You should never ever mix emotion-especially not revenge-with business. And this is very delicate business with a fortune at stake.”

“I know what’s at stake here,” she hissed. “I know Massey a lot better than you do.”

Clayton shrugged. He had no choice but to go with the flow, to follow orders. He knew that either he would make a fortune with this woman, or he would be a dead man.

He couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could have ever called her “Precious.” Major Antonia Keen was about as precious as an iceberg.