Titus Ray Thriller Box Set, page 81
part #1 of Titus Ray Series
“You’ll do fine. You were probably a straight A student in college.”
“Hardly.”
For a brief moment, I thought about telling her my future at the Agency might depend on her passing the Quantico training, but then I quickly reconsidered.
When our entrées arrived, she started quizzing me about Arkady Orlov and his relationship to the owner of The Meadows, so I told her how the Russian weightlifter had fallen in love with Millie Durkin, the embassy employee in Seoul, South Korea. I also mentioned that Millie had been friends with Carlton’s wife, Gladys.
The way in which Arkady and Millie had become Carlton’s housekeepers appeared to intrigue her, even though I had to give her a sanitized version of the truth and refused to answer her questions about Carlton. What seemed to fascinate her more than anything else was my description of Millie.
Whether this was a woman thing or not, I couldn’t tell.
As we were finishing up our meal, I started racking my brain for some way I could spend a few more hours with her, preferably alone.
An easy solution presented itself.
“What would you think about leaving your car here at the restaurant and driving out to The Meadows with me?”
“That’s very tempting.”.
“I’m sure Stormy would love to see you.”
“Could I also have a tour of the house?”
“I’ll show you every nook and cranny of the place myself.”
“And what would Mr. Douglas Carlton think if he knew you were playing the tour guide at his house?”
“I’m sure he’d suggest I show you around the gardens as well.”
“This Carlton guy sounds like an interesting character.”
“That all depends on how you define interesting.”
* * * *
For some reason, the drive out to The Meadows took on a whole new dimension with Nikki in the seat beside me.
First, she pointed out a faded barn with an old mural painted on the side of it, and I had to admit I’d never noticed it before. And then, strangely enough, she was able to name the architectural style of the country church a few miles from the turnoff to Carlton’s house.
“You’ve never lived anywhere but Oklahoma. How do you know about country churches in Virginia?”
She sounded amused at my question. “There’s this wonderful invention called a book. It can take you anywhere you want to go; it can teach you anything you want to know; and it’s guaranteed to transform the most ignorant soul into the most annoying expert.”
“Isn’t that what the internet is for?”
“Without books, there wouldn’t be an internet in the first place.”
I nodded. “I suppose you’re right, Detective, but I have to say I’m surprised at your choice of reading materials. Architectural styles of Virginia sounds like pretty heavy reading to me.”
She laughed. “The truth is, I read a lot of historical fiction, and gothic buttresses and gabled roofs show up in almost every one of them.”
I suddenly realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d read a fiction book, and I knew I’d never read a historical novel before.
If my cover story required me to grab a paperback book off the rack in an airport gift shop, I always picked up a spy novel, if only for the sheer irony of it.
* * * *
I parked my Range Rover in the circle drive of Gladys’ magnificent house, and seconds after closing my car door, an enthusiastic yellow lab ran out from behind the garage and pounced on me.
“Stormy, how’s it going, boy?”
He answered with a couple of short barks and then dashed over to see Nikki. After she’d scratched his ears sufficiently, he raced around to see me again, putting his paws on my chest and licking my face.
“I’d say he was happy to see you.”
“My boss treats me the same way every time I get back in town.”
A few minutes later, Frisco appeared in the driveway, and following close behind him was Arkady, whose excitement at seeing me again was muted in comparison to the delight he expressed at seeing Nikki.
Arkady immediately assured her that Stormy and Frisco had already become good friends, and then, in an obvious attempt to impress the lady with his dog training expertise, the Russian began demonstrating how Stormy had learned to obey some simple commands. For some reason, he used his native Russian tongue when telling Stormy to sit, come, and stay.
I decided not to mention I’d taught Stormy these same commands—albeit in English—when I’d first adopted him.
Despite Arkady’s training, when a squirrel suddenly ran across the driveway, both dogs abandoned their stance and took off after it. A disheartened Arkady threw his hands up in the air and began yelling Russian curses at them.
When it became apparent the dogs were more interested in pursuing the squirrel than in obeying Russian commands, Arkady looked over at Nikki and shrugged. I could tell she was having a hard time not laughing at him, so I tried diverting his attention by telling him I was here to give Nikki a tour of the house and introduce her to Millie.
He grinned. “Yes, yes. Of course, you must do this. She should meet my Millie.”
As soon as Arkady ushered us in the front door, he went in search of Millie, and, immediately afterward, I took Nikki’s hand and led her across the foyer and into Gladys’ great room.
I stopped in the middle of the room and put my arms around her. “I’ve been wanting to do this all evening.”
I leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips.
She smiled up at me. “What happened to the tour you promised me?”
I kissed her again. “Do you think the tour could wait?”
“Hmmm,” she said, as I caressed her neck. “Maybe so.”
When I cradled her face in my hand and gave her a long, lingering kiss, she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me even closer. My pulse quickened and I suddenly found myself lost in the smell of her skin and the tantalizing sweetness of her mouth.
“Oh, sorry. We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Millie said, breaking through my passionate reverie.
I pulled away from Nikki like a teenager caught on the front porch by a worried dad.
I heard Arkady snickering.
Nikki, however, didn’t seem fazed by the couple’s sudden appearance and immediately stepped forward and introduced herself to Millie.
“Hi, I’m Nikki Saxon. You must be Millie.”
Millie shook Nikki’s hand, and then pointed her finger at me. “I’ve never seen this guy speechless before.”
“I was giving Nikki a tour of the house,” I said, although the minute it came out of my mouth, I knew how incredibly ridiculous it sounded.
Millie laughed. “Oh, anyone could see that.”
She took Arkady’s arm. “We’ll let the two of you get on with the ... tour. Stop by the kitchen when you’re finished ... touring.”
As they left the room, Millie looked up at Arkady and shook her head.
Chapter 29
At the end of the house tour, Nikki and I ended up in the kitchen, where we found Millie preparing a pot of coffee. After placing the carafe back on the warmer, she gestured out the window and informed us we were having dessert out by the pool.
When I started to protest, Nikki spoke up and said we’d love to have dessert, but only if Millie and Arkady would join us. Millie agreed, and then she immediately shooed me out the kitchen door and told me to go find Arkady.
I decided it might be best to follow her instructions and left the room.
I found Arkady down by the pool giving the dogs a lecture. Even though I couldn’t fully understand his Russian, I figured his scolding had something to do with both dogs getting water all over him every time they shook themselves dry.
Apparently, they’d just taken a forbidden dip in Carlton’s pool.
“Sorry, Arkady, I guess I should have told you Stormy loves the water.”
After explaining how Stormy swam regularly at the lake on my property in Norman, Arkady responded by telling me about a dog he had when he was growing up in Tbilisi. In the middle of describing how he’d taught the dog to catch fish, the ladies arrived with mugs of hot coffee and four dessert plates piled high with strawberry shortcake.
I urged Arkady to finish telling the story, and in a move that surprised us all, he immediately got out of his chair and grabbed Frisco, using him to demonstrate how he used to wrestle his childhood dog to the ground in order to force him to give up the fish he’d just caught.
Naturally, Stormy thought the sight of Arkady wrestling with Frisco looked like great fun, and he immediately jumped right in the middle of the twosome.
In the end, Arkady managed to extricate himself from the pile of wet fur without any help from the rest of us, which was a good thing, because I seriously doubted whether we would have been able to help him in the first place, since the three of us were laughing so hard.
As our laughter died down, I glanced over at Nikki.
By the look on her face, I could tell she was enjoying herself, and, at that moment, I realized how important her happiness meant to me.
Such a realization caused a wealth of emotions to well up inside of me, including a kind of happiness of my own, yet my predominate feeling wasn’t one of joy, but of fear.
Moments later, my fear was justified.
* * * *
Before Arkady sat back down at the table, he ordered both dogs away from the pool, and they reluctantly obeyed him. Stormy trotted over and sat down beside me, while Frisco made his way over to the big oak tree close to the garage.
About thirty minutes later, after the ladies had cleared off the table and gone inside, I saw Stormy’s ears perk up. The next thing I knew he was making a beeline for the front of the house with Frisco right behind him.
Arkady quickly looked down at a screen on his mobile phone and said, “There’s a car in the driveway.”
“Were you expecting someone?” I asked.
“No,” he said, “but sometimes people get lost out here.”
I pointed at his cell phone. “Mind if I take a look?”
After he handed me his phone, I saw him pull his weapon from the gun holster at his back.
I took a quick look at the screen, which displayed a video feed from the home’s security camera and handed it back to him.
“I’m coming with you,” I said, removing my Glock.
He nodded and pointed over to his right. “I’ll approach the vehicle from front. You bring up rear.”
I immediately headed off toward the gate on the other side of the property, the one opposite the garage, while Arkady moved out in the direction of the garage.
As I made my way forward, I realized the dogs had ceased their continual barking and were just yapping intermittently now. I knew that probably meant the driver was trying to reason with them, perhaps attempting to gauge their intentions, before exiting his vehicle.
The vehicle appeared to be a silver Ford Mustang with chrome wheels.
* * * *
Although it was after nine o’clock, the sun had just fallen below the horizon, and, consequently, just as I rounded the corner of the house, the automatic security lights in front of the house suddenly switched on.
This turned out to be both good and bad.
It was good because I could clearly see the target as he emerged from the vehicle. It was bad because the target could also clearly see me.
Fortunately, the driver was so focused on Arkady, who was standing directly in front of him, and on the two large dogs, who were circling around him, he wasn’t even aware of my presence a few feet behind him.
“How can I help you?” Arkady asked, keeping his pistol out of sight.
“I’m looking for the owner of that Range Rover,” the driver said, nodding his head in the direction of my vehicle.
“That would be me, Frank.”
At the sound of my voice, Frank Benson wheeled around, took one look at my Glock, and raised his hands.
“You can put away the firepower, Titus. You won’t be needing it.”
“You’ll have to convince me of that.”
Suddenly, Stormy bared his teeth and snarled at Frank Benson—something I’d never seen him do before—and Benson immediately took a step back and said, “I’m just here to have a conversation with you, that’s all.”
I walked around to where Benson was standing in front of the Mustang. After ordering Stormy to sit—which he immediately did—I looked over and nodded at Arkady, who holstered his weapon.
I lowered my Glock and said, “Start talking, Frank.”
“Some of what I have to say is classified,” he said, glancing over at the big Russian. “We should have this discussion in private.”
I was spared the embarrassment of asking Arkady to give us some privacy when he suggested,” You could use the study to entertain your guest.”
Although I found it difficult to think of Benson as my guest, I did as Arkady suggested. “You heard the man,” I said, nodding toward the front door. “Let’s go inside.”
The moment we entered the foyer, I realized I should have asked Arkady to let Nikki know where I was, but, as soon as we started down the hallway toward the study, she came around the corner.
“There you are,” she said. “I was just ...”
She paused when she noticed Benson standing beside me.
“Well, hi,” she said, giving him a smile.
Benson returned the smile and said, “It’s Nikki, isn’t it? I believe we met at the orientation yesterday at Quantico.”
“That’s right,” she said. “What are you—”
“Frank just dropped by for a chat,” I said, anticipating her question. “This shouldn’t take long.”
“Not long at all,” he said, stepping over to Carlton’s study and opening the door.
The moment he moved away from me, Nikki was able to see the Glock I was carrying at my side, which I’m certain was his intention all along.
She looked down at the gun and then glanced over at Benson.
“I’ll wait for you in the living room,” she said, heading down the hallway.
To say she looked disconcerted when she realized I was holding an FBI agent at gunpoint would be an understatement.
* * * *
Benson entered Carlton’s study as if he owned the place, and I suspected he’d visited The Meadows before. As one of Carlton’s former operatives, he might have even attended a couple of Gladys’ dinner parties, perhaps even a Thanksgiving dinner at the house.
“Nikki’s a beautiful woman,” Benson said, running his finger over a row of books on Carlton’s orderly bookshelves. “How do you know her?”
“None of your business,” I said, putting away my gun. “Why were you following me?”
Benson sat down in the same armchair Felipe Arcos had occupied just a few days earlier. As he did so, I found myself thinking about those implements from the basement dungeon Mitchell had wanted to use on Felipe.
Not that I would have used them on Benson—not at all.
He nodded. “So you knew I was tailing you? I borrowed my son’s car thinking it might throw you off.”
“Surveillance was never your strong suit, Frank.”
He gave a short laugh. “I’m here, aren’t I?” He pointed over to the other armchair and said, “Have a seat, Titus.”
At the moment, I was standing in front of Carlton’s desk, and I chose to remain there.
“I know I burned you right after mile marker 61,” I said. “That means you must have spent the last couple of hours trying to figure out where I could have gone after you lost me. Coming here to The Meadows wasn’t anything more than just a wild guess on your part.”
He didn’t dispute my conclusion. “Douglas has always treated you differently than the rest of his operatives. Personally, I think it’s because he feels sorry for you. Finding you here, entertaining your lady friend inside his house, just proves my point.”
I bristled at his reference to Nikki. “You have one minute to tell me why you’re here before I throw you out.”
“You know why I’m here. That stunt you pulled at the Navy Yard on Monday morning almost got me fired. I received an official reprimand because I allowed you to enter the compound without checking your creds. Now, the incident’s been noted on my record as a misconduct infraction. One more violation, and I’ll be getting my discharge papers from the Bureau.”
I was tempted to point out if the feds fired him, at least it wouldn’t be because his actions caused a bunch of hostages to lose their lives.
But, to save time, I decided not to bring up his past and deal only with the present.
As I thought about what he’d said, though, I suddenly felt guilty about the heartless way I’d used him at the Navy Yard. The feeling was like a weight pushing down on me in every direction, and I realized what I had to do.
“I apologize, Frank. I had my reasons for needing to check things out at the Yard, but I didn’t stop to think I might be putting your career in danger when I did so.”
He folded his arms across his chest and stared at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means what it means. I’m apologizing for my behavior.”
“If you think I’m about to do you another favor, then you’re—”
“Look, Frank. I just apologized. Take it or leave it, and then get out. We’re done.”
He settled back in his chair. “We’re not finished here until you’ve given me some answers. If that was a real apology, then you’ll have to prove it, because the Titus I knew would never have apologized to anyone for anything at any time.”
“You want proof I’m apologizing? How would that work?”
“Tell me what you know about the shooting at the Navy Yard.”
“I thought the Bureau had already decided it was a drug deal gone bad.”
“You and I both know it wasn’t.”
Even though Benson’s past actions proved he was incapable of making spur-of-the-moment decisions, he was extremely adept at drilling down below the surface of a knotty problem and extracting critical information.
