The Rescue(28)

“My guess is that Senator Steele’s idea of a loose end in this case vastly differs from Harcourt’s,” said Jay.

“Just slightly,” said Gunther.

“Hey. I had an idea while you were on the phone. You mentioned Hemet. This might be a long shot, but what if Decker took Penkin out to the scene of the original crime?”

“Huh. It’s isolated, that’s for sure,” said Gunther. “Perfect place for something like that. Probably the last place anyone would think to look.”

“Or want to look.”

“That, too,” said Gunther, thinking it over. “It’s not like we have any other leads.”





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Decker scanned the half-empty parking lot, seeing nothing that raised any alarms. Ares Aviation sat tucked away in the corner of a quiet, L-shaped strip mall adjacent to Riverside Municipal Airport. The strip mall was part of the airport’s business park, almost every sign or logo indicating that the company housed inside catered to the airport or airport customers.

He gave Harlow a once-over, shaking his head. “You know that can get you arrested, right?”

She adjusted the plastic badge holder attached to her jacket lapel, moving it uncomfortably closer to her effectively exposed cleavage. He shifted his view back to the Ares Aviation office.

“Nowhere on the badge does it say ‘FAA.’ The background logo is for the Department of Homeland Security. Not my fault if they can’t take their eyes off the goods long enough to figure that out.”

“And you’ve done this before,” he stated.

“In this very office,” she said. “Trust me.”

“What if you’re dealing with a woman?”

“Don’t worry. One of the guys will take over before she has a chance to figure it out,” said Harlow. “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll send you in. Let you work some of your magic on the ladies.”

“Funny,” he said. “I’m sure my prison vibes will mesmerize.”

“Anyway, I don’t need to be convincing. I just need to raise a few alarms. Enough for someone to place a call. I have to imagine someone inside that office has been alerted to your presence.”

“Our presence,” he said. “They know I had help.”

“Even better. We need to pique their interest.”

“You’re made if they have video surveillance. Life could get very difficult for you in this city after that.”

“Now you’re not even making sense,” she said. “I’m harboring a fugitive from contract killers and the police. Probably the FBI at this point. How much more difficult for me could it get?”

“Seriously. Watch yourself in there. For all we know, they’ve anticipated this move.”

She got serious for a moment. “I’ll be careful. You’ll be able to listen to everything through my phone. If you see anything out here, honk the horn.”

“Old-school works for me,” said Decker.

“Last check. How do I look?” she said, turning in the seat.

His eyes went right to her chest.

“See? Nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t get too smug,” he said. “I did just get out of prison.”

“See you in a few minutes,” said Harlow.

She walked across the parking lot, disappearing into Ares Aviation. He raised the volume on the phone and set it on the dashboard, listening to her conversation as he casually scanned the parking lot for threats. Eight minutes later, she returned, having acquired none of the information she requested—but that had been expected. She tossed the folder over her shoulder and shrugged.

“I think that went well,” said Harlow. “I have no doubt they’re calling this in as we speak.”

“I didn’t exactly get that from your conversation.”

“I did,” said Harlow, removing the fake badge and tossing that onto the folder. “The same guy I talked to last time was at the reception desk. He didn’t look at my badge once.”

“I’m sure he didn’t.”

“He didn’t look at that, either,” she said. “He focused on my face, avoiding my eyes. The guy was terrified. His eyes kept darting toward the back. Freaked me out a little. I think he was just nervous about one of his colleagues overhearing our conversation. He wasn’t like this last time.”

“I guess we’ll know soon enough. Nice work,” said Decker. “Video surveillance?”

“Unfortunately.”

“We can’t go back to your apartment, or any place easily traceable to you.”

“I have plenty of safe options.”

“Good. We’ll need them,” said Decker. “Now what?”

“We park across the street and wait for these Americans to show up,” said Harlow, mimicking Penkin’s thick Russian accent.

“That’s good,” he said immediately.

“Really?”

“Not really. You sounded like Natasha Fatale.”

“She sounds like fun,” said Harlow, starting the car.

“She’s from a cartoon. An old one.”

“You’re dating yourself, Decker.”