Threat Level Black

The crime scene people had already set up shop, and now two in their white baggy suits asked Fisher and Hunter to move off to the side so they could finish taking their samples.

“At least we know the E-bomb’s real,” said Fisher.

“How do you figure that?”

“Has to be.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Fisher. How do you figure that? Where’s your proof? This?”

“I have to prove one and one is two?”

“By your math, one and one is a hundred and twenty-seven.”

Fisher ignored the obvious reference to his expense chits.

“We have to get some security people on Howe,” he told Hunter. He’d already tried calling the colonel’s cell phone but it was apparently turned off.

“I’ll talk to the White House about it,” said Hunter.

“We don’t have anybody we can send?”

“Jeez, Fisher, what the hell do you think? I have an army of people working for me?”

“Better do it quick,” said Fisher. “If they were willing to blow me up, they must already have an idea where he is, or at least where he’ll go.”

Chapter 10

Howe started to drive back to his motel after lunch with McIntyre, but then realized that he was near the house Alice Kauss had called her dream home the night before. Recalling the conversation-and mostly recalling her-he turned down the street that led to it, turning to the right and then into the cul-de-sac where the house sat off to the side. He stopped the car and looked at it.

It wasn’t a spectacular house. Oh, it was big-much bigger than anything he’d ever lived in-but it wasn’t ostentatious: no elaborate drive, none of those really fancy pillars at the front, no copper on the roof. It was nice, definitely; the little porch at the front was just big enough for a small bench, a good place to read the paper on a Sunday morning, drinking a cup of coffee.

Not a bad life.

Over a million bucks, though? Sheeeesh.

Could he afford a place like this if he took the job?

Undoubtedly, but why would he want it? Alice had told him it was about 3,200 square feet. He’d be lost.

He drove around the cul-de-sac at the end of the block, then up and through the rest of the subdivision. Howe had grown up in a rural area, next to a farm. The word subdivision in his youth had a tinge to it; usually it meant a farmer had been forced to sell off his land to make ends meet. Things were changing now. The family farm was a thing of the past, even where he’d grown up. Soon it would all be subdivisions.

So, living in a condominium was better?

Howe hadn’t heard back from Blitz or his aide about his security clearance, and figured that he might not for a few days. His best bet, he thought, was to get his personal affairs straightened out: find a place to stay, then go back home for a few days, visit with his relatives and friends. Once the job got going, who knew when he’d get a chance to get away again?

It was only two o’clock, but Howe was near the real estate office and decided he’d take a chance that she might be there. Her car wasn’t in the lot, but he’d already driven up and decided he might as well go inside and see if she’d be back before four.

“I’m not sure,” said the receptionist, peering at him from over her eyeglasses. “She didn’t show up for work today, and she hasn’t answered her phone. It’s very unlike her.”

“Where does she live?” he asked.

He drove by the apartment twice. Alice ’s car was in the lot. As far as he could see, there was no one watching it. He went back out onto the street and drove to a gas station nearby before trying her again.

The answering machine picked up on the second ring.

“It’s Bill Howe again,” he said. “I was wondering if maybe you’d want to push up our appointment this afternoon? But I guess you’re not around.”

He hit End, then called over to the motel to check for messages. Someone from the FBI had called; it wasn’t Fisher but undoubtedly it was related to their talk. Howe took down the name and number but figured he’d talk to Fisher about it first. The only other call was from a newspaper reporter from his hometown, apparently referred by his mom.

He reached into his pocket for Fisher’s card to call him. He thought about mentioning Alice and the fact that she wasn’t around, then realized that would be silly.

Why did he think something had happened to her? More than likely she was inside sleeping, catching up after last night.

Or she was in there with someone else. But hadn’t she been giving him the impression she was unattached?

Howe remembered her walk. Truth was, he was infatuated with her. She wasn’t movie star beautiful but she was…

Beautiful.

And probably busy doing other stuff, attached, and interested in him only as a customer.