Solomon Key

Chapter 23

Constance followed Avery down the street from a small parking area to her destination — the Truman Little White House. Did the woman work here? Perhaps she was a tour guide or something.

Absently, Constance touched the spot at the small of her back where her pistol was hidden before following along. Florida’s only presidential museum, the Harry S. Truman Little White House had served as the winter White House for America’s 33rd president. Presidents Taft, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Carter and Clinton also used the house. She paid the admission fee and wandered the interior, pretending to admire the exhibits.

When she was satisfied that Avery was nowhere to be found, she sought out help from the woman at the ticket counter. She had curly gray hair, and squinted at Constance through narrowed eyes, probably a result of not wearing the glasses which hung from a chain around her neck.

“Excuse me,” Constance began, “I was supposed to meet a friend here. She ought to have already arrived but I can’t seem to find her. I was wondering if you might have seen her.” She described Avery and gave her name.

The woman flashed an easy smile. “Yes, of course I know Ms. Halsey. She works here. I’ll give her a call.”

Constance opened her mouth to tell her there was no need to call Avery. The woman could simply direct her to Avery’s office. But the lady was already talking into the phone. She hung up after a brief conversation, turned and smiled.

“She will be here in just a moment. Sorry to make you wait but we’re fussy about security even though this is a small museum.” She spread her hands as if to say, What are you going to do?

Constance forced an easy smile, and stood, waiting.

A few seconds later, a gruff voice said, “You are here to see Avery Halsey?”

She knew immediately that something was wrong. She reached for her pistol but powerful hands seized her by the wrists. She drove her heel backward catching the man in the shin. He let out a grunt but his grip did not weaken. She drove her head backward, hoping to catch him across the nose, but he was ready for it, and moved aside. She only hit his shoulder.

“None of that,” he said. “You might as well stop fighting. You’re not going to get away.”

Rage boiled inside of her. For a moment she considered kicking him again, but she immediately realized the futility of her situation. Another man, tall and lean with short brown hair stood before her. He smiled, his demeanor relaxed, but she could tell by the way he stood, the way he held his hands, that he was ready to strike at a moment’s notice. The old woman who had sold her a ticket stood a few feet to the left, aiming a stun gun at her.

“Who the hell are you people?”

“My name is Greg,” the tall man said. We will discuss the rest in our office.” He glanced at the man who was still holding Constance and gave a small nod. She felt something cold pressed against her neck and then everything went black.

She regained consciousness to find herself handcuffed to a chair at one end of a long table. It looked to be the sort of meeting room found in any office.

To her left sat a big man with a military bearing. Greg sat on her right, and on his other side, Avery. At the far end of the table, hands folded, sat an attractive, dark-skinned woman in a business suit.

“Glad you could join us. How was your nap?” the woman asked sweetly.

Constance scowled but did not reply.

The woman made a clucking sound and shook her head.

“Manners,” she chided. “We are being gracious hosts. The least you can do is have a friendly conversation with us.”

“Hosts? I think the word you are looking for is ‘kidnappers.’”

“Sweetie,” the woman said, a dollop of the American South flavoring her words, “you assaulted a federal agent.”

“I’m not your sweetie,” Constance said through gritted teeth. Mentally, she kicked herself for letting the woman get under her skin. After all, it was all a game, wasn’t it? “If you are government agents, then I demand you charge me or release me.”

“Oh, you need not worry about that. My people are busy drumming up charges as we speak. And yes, I said exactly what I meant. What you end up actually being charged with depends on how cooperative you are.”

“I’ll tell you nothing,” Constance said in a bored voice. She wouldn’t let these people intimidate her.

“Want me to persuade her?” the big man asked.

“Don’t you have a tractor pull to get to? A professional wrestling match, perhaps?”

The big man smirked.

“Not yet, Sievers. I believe she’ll come around. She seems the sort to see good sense…eventually.”

“It must be killing you to take orders from a sister,” Constance said, still trying to get under the man’s skin. But, he merely rolled his eyes. She turned her attention to the woman at the end of the table. “Do you have a name?”

“You can call me Tam.”

Constance barked a laugh. “Sounds like a musical instrument slow children play so they can feel like part of the band.”

Everyone around the table laughed, even Tam.

“I’m going to remember that one,” Sievers said.

“The hell you will,” Tam said, still laughing. Her expression suddenly grew serious. “Lord Jesus, I got to put a dollar in my cussing jar.”

“Just a quarter,” Avery said. “Hell is as much a place as it is a swear.”

“My daddy would say that’s cheating but I’m going to go with your analysis.” Tam rested the palms of her hands on the table, her expression grave. “That’s enough foreplay. Time to get dirty.”

“Whoa,” Greg said.

“I didn’t cuss.” She turned her attention to Constance. “Let’s discuss your crimes and misdemeanors.”

“First of all,” Constance began, “I didn’t assault any federal agent.”

Avery raised her hand. “Hello? On the island?”

“That wasn’t me,” Constance said.

“So it was your accomplice?” Tam asked.

“Yes… I mean, I don’t have an accomplice. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shame,” Tam said, inspecting her own fingernails, holding them up to the light as if looking for blemishes. “If somebody else were guilty, I mean, if you could point us in a different direction. That is to say, if we’ve got the wrong person…”

“Oh, you have the wrong person, but I don’t know who the right person is.”

“Wrong answer,” Tam said, still staring at her nails.

“You are wasting my time,” Constance said. “We both know you can’t prove that I assaulted anyone.” She turned to Avery and grinned.

“No?” Tam quirked an eyebrow. “But I’ve got security video of you assaulting my agent.” She inclined her head toward Sievers, who nodded. “You kicked him and you tried to head-butt him. And that’s just what we have on video. I have witnesses who saw you do much worse.”

“I will not be railroaded,” Constance said. “I have rights.”

“Haven’t you heard? If you are suspected of terrorism you could spend a long time in prison awaiting a trial. Without being charged.”

Constance’s stomach lurched. “I’m not a terrorist.”

“You’re a person of color from a foreign country who has committed a crime. Under the current administration that’s pretty much all it takes.” Constance didn’t know if Tam’s scowl was for her or for the administration to which she referred. “Also, you pissed me off.” She said the last three words slowly and deliberately.

“You just cost yourself another dollar,” Constance said, trying and failing to sound glib. She could feel her resistance crumbling.

“Give us the room,” Tam said. The others obeyed instantly. Constance couldn’t help but be impressed. The woman might dress herself up like a Real Housewife of Atlanta, but she wielded authority as if it were second nature.

“You going to play good cop or bad cop?” Constance asked.

“Dealer’s choice. I have a diverse skill set.” Tam stood, made her way down to Constance’s end of the table, and took the seat Greg had occupied. “As much as I would love to bandy words with you, I’m a busy woman. I imagine whatever criminal enterprise you’re involved in occupies a lot of your time too, so let’s talk like two sensible people.”

Constance made a curt nod but held her tongue. She sensed a deal was in the offing.

“We both know I can send you to Guantánamo and lose the paperwork. You might get out someday, but by then I’ll be retired to a Pacific island drinking mai tais while an oiled-up man in a Speedo massages my feet.” She paused for a moment to smile at the thought.

“What’s behind door number two?” Constance asked

“First of all, you convince me you’re not a terrorist. Then you help me understand why you went after my agent. Last, you tell me who you work for or with. The more you give me, the lesser the charge. That, I promise you. If I find out you’ve lied or held anything back, you might as well cease to exist. That, I also promise you.”

Constance flinched. Her first instinct was to punch Tam in the face, but seeing how she was handcuffed to a heavy chair, that was not an option. And, the woman was correct. This corrupt American government could not be relied upon to meet out justice in a fair and equitable way. She took a deep breath.

“All I want is to recover what belongs to my family.”