Second Shot

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of in my job description,” she agreed, sitting back and crossing her legs. She regarded me with slightly narrowed eyes, head tilted to one side. “As is finding out that Greg Lucas spent years in the SAS and had a rep as a real hard man.”

I stilled, trying to work out if I’d known that information. Army chap, Harrington had said, implying some chinless wonder in the Guards. Nea-gley’s information changed things, but I still didn’t see what real significance it had. “So?”

“So he’s the kind of guy who would know when someone was asking questions about him-and possibly have the abilities to get rid of that someone, if he did not want to be found.”

I didn’t think it was good politics to let Neagley know that questioning the accidental nature of that accident had been my first thought. So I allowed my eyebrows to come up and asked, neutral, “You think he might have arranged for your partner’s crash? Run him off the road? Why?”

Neagley shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know, but I’ve been in this business long enough to know that normal people-with nothing to hide-don’t go to the trouble to disappear that this guy did. He must have had a reason for not wanting to be found. And besides, Barry was a good driver,” she added, defensive now. “Me, I’m from California. I’d never seen ice until I moved east five years ago. If it had been me who went off that bridge-” she shrugged, “ — that woulda been understandable. But Barry lived here all his life. He was careful, knew what he was doing.”

“Have you talked to the police about this?”

Her face tightened. “Uh-huh. They’re not going to be swayed from ‘driver error’ unless I find them some real good evidence of sabotage or interference. And, like I say, your boy’s too good to have left anything obvious behind.”

I didn’t like the way she said “your boy” any more than I liked the way she seemed convinced Simone’s father had in some way caused O’Halloran’s accident, but I let it slide. She took a breath.

‘And I think I’m under surveillance.”

“You think, or you know?”

Her eyes flashed a warning. “It’s nothing obvious, just a feeling, but you get to trust your instincts in this job.”

“When did you first notice this tail?” I asked.

“Since just after Barry’s accident. It could be coincidence, but I’m not working on anything at the moment that would warrant it, so I can only conclude it’s because of Barry.” She stared at her drink, her face pinched. “I don’t mind admitting, it’s got me a little spooked.”

“Are you saying you want to quit?”

“No,” she said carefully, not rising to the challenge in my voice, “but we should have been told up front if this assignment was likely to be risky”

Hey, I’m just another employee, not management. D on’ t give me a hard time about it. Not an attitude likely to win me Neagley’s cooperation, so I left the words unspoken.

“I don’t believe anyone thought it was,” I said instead, “or they would have done.”

“Yeah?” Her voice held a disbelieving note. “So why are you on the job, Charlie? You’re ex-SAS as well, aren’t you?”

I glanced at her sharply. She was almost right, but not quite. Special Forces in the UK covers a lot more than just 22nd Regiment, but that’s who everybody automatically thinks of. And anyway, I hadn’t made it past the training stage, but I wasn’t about to volunteer that little titbit.

“Well, well,” I murmured. “You have been doing some digging, haven’t you?”

“Like I said, it’s part of the job,” she threw back at me. “So, why would someone like you be assigned if this is just a simple hand-holding exercise?”

I knew explaining about Simone’s money would clarify my position, but I couldn’t do so without clearing it with Simone first. Neagley saw my hesitation and read all manner of things into it-most of which weren’t there. She got to her feet, leaving what remained of her drink on the table.

“No, I’m not a quitter,” she said with quiet vehemence, leaning in. “But if I’m going to continue I want someone watching my back. I’ve called in some people I know-an executive protection firm outta New York who owe me a favor. When I’ve used up their goodwill I’ll be putting their fee onto Miss Kerse’s account. If she doesn’t like it, she can fire me, OK?”

I nodded. She was within her rights to be angry and I knew my silence hadn’t helped.

Neagley pulled a business card out of her pocket. “When you decide to level with me, here’s my cell number,” she said, tossing the card onto the table as she straightened. “And a piece of advice for you, Charlie- watch your back.” And with that she turned and strode out of the bar.

I wasn’t overly surprised when the big guy in the green sports jacket abandoned his drink and strolled out after her. As he went past he inclined his head a fraction, the friendly nod of one professional to another.

Seven