Dead Heat (Taz Bell Book 1) Page 3

"If the rest of us can live with the lack most of the time, I think you can handle it for just a few hours," I said, having decided that sympathy was the worst thing I could give him. "I'm going to get the bounty paperwork done right now, and later we can go out to eat. Why don't you spend some time deciding what you're in the mood for, and then see if you can push through the fog far enough to find the best place serving whatever it is. I can't imagine our enemies being so completely dastardly that they'd make us eat just anywhere."

  "Dastardly," Freemont said with his grin wide again, George chuckling where he hovered. "When you start using words like that I know I'm in trouble. Okay, okay, you do the paperwork and I'll go delving in the phone book. If I can't get a hit we'll just have to find a Shoney's or a Denny's."

  "We've already eaten often enough in both places that we ought to be major stockholders by now," I pointed out as I went out to the L-shaped sitting area and over to the table on the left near the outside door. "If we're on the move, those two are great places to stop at on the way. Right now we're kind of unmoving, so let's see if we can't find something different."

  I turned on the light in the table area, then opened the small attaché case that held the forms I needed. It was something of a hoot when Freemont used his talent to find us really good places to eat, the kind of thing talent wasn't normally used for. But if you've got the ability to know good from bad, why not use it?

  Filling out forms by hand is a royal pain, but until I got the program I needed for my laptop I had no choice about doing it like this. My small but very good printer would have reproduced the forms perfectly, but the government didn't want their forms reproduced. They wanted the issued forms to be used, but trying to measure the necessary distances using a blank form just didn't work. Something always managed to be off, so you either filled out the forms by hand or bought the government's program from them.

  I'd finally broken down and bought the program, but getting it into my hands would be a major hassle. The program couldn't be picked up at Best Buy or Comp USA, it had to be mailed to you. I'd been checking by phone for two weeks at the mailbox address I'd given, but the thing still hadn't shown up. Once it did the mailbox people would overnight it to wherever I happened to be, but first the stupid program had to show up. Leave it to the government to make filing for bounty money almost more trouble than it was worth.

  By the time the forms were done Freemont had decided on Chinese food and had found the place we wanted to go. It actually wasn't all that far from the motel, so we waited until about seven o'clock, when the first rush ought to be over, then I drove us there. The restaurant was a buffet, and every dish I tried was absolutely excellent. I stuffed myself the way I usually do with Chinese food, Freemont did the same, then I drove us back to the motel. George had stayed behind to sulk. He'd loved Chinese food, and even though he no longer had any interest in food and drink he still couldn't bear to watch Freemont and me eating what he had to miss out on.

  By the time we got back to our room it was just about full dark. I'd stopped at a gas station on the way so Freemont and I could buy large cups of coffee. We'd both been drinking hot tea with our meal, but it was against the law to end the day without one last cup of coffee.

  "A limo pulled into the parking lot after you two were in the building, but no one has gotten out yet," George reported from the window as soon as we entered the sitting area. "I don't know why, but I have a feeling that our visitors are in that limo. Do you want me to go down and take a look?"

  "Unnecessary," Freemont said, putting his cup down on the coffee table before collapsing onto the nearby couch. "I'm being allowed to know that those are our visitors, and they'll be up here in just a few minutes. I also get the feeling you won't see them come in even if you keep watching."

  "There's a … strange kind of rippling to the darkness near their car," George answered, still staring out the window. "Now the rippling is moving this way, but I didn't see the car door opening. At least I don't think I saw the car door opening."

  Freemont smiled faintly, but this time he didn't answer. I could see he'd decided to control his feelings, but the scent of fear covering him would have been hard to miss even if I hadn't sat down on the other end of the couch. He claimed not to know what was going to happen, but I couldn't help wondering just how truthful that claim was.

  But I'd already decided that I wasn't in the mood to be pushed around, so I just opened my coffee and took a careful sip. A minute later I heard soft footsteps in the hall outside, more than one person approaching. The footsteps came up to our door and stopped, a moment of silence passed, and then someone knocked. It could have been my imagination, but somehow the knock sounded annoyed.

  "I'll get it," I said, putting my coffee back on the table before standing up. I could have carried the cup to the door with me, but keeping both hands free seemed like a better idea. Hot coffee is a fairly good weapon, but not with a plastic cover locked tight around the top of the cup. That kind of lid usually comes off more often and more quickly than you want it to, but if you need the lid off really fast you can usually count on it to hold on with teeth and claws.

  Opening the door was part anticlimax and part … I-don't-know-what. The woman standing right in front of the door was somewhere around forty, her handsome face unlined except for an expression of faint annoyance. She seemed to be my size, but the low heels she wore said she was probably closer to Freemont's size than mine. The dark heels matched to a charcoal gray skirt suit and pearl gray blouse, a single strand of tastefully small pearls showing below the round neck of the blouse. She also had gray eyes, her dark brown hair cut shorter than mine and definitely styled.

  The woman gave off a sense of presence, but even so she couldn't quite blot out the presence of the two men standing behind her. They were broad-shouldered and fairly tall with square, very handsome faces. Their hair was close to that black-red color you see if you shine a light on the coat of some black cats, and their pale gray eyes somehow had a touch of blue as well. They wore sport shirts and slacks with loafers on their feet, light blue and dark blue for the one on the left, green and brown for the one on the right. But that did nothing to disguise the fact that they were identical twins.

  "I didn't know Jehovah's Witnesses visited people in motels," I commented, making sure nothing in the way of an expression showed on my face. "If you want to leave a pamphlet of some kind that's fine, but - "

  "You know very well who we are," the woman interrupted with even more annoyance, definitely not amused. "You also knew we were out here but still made us knock. If you're all through with childish games now, we're waiting to be invited in."

  "Actually, I have no idea who you are," I countered, letting the force of the woman's personality blow past me like a heavy wind. She was the kind of person almost everyone seemed helpless to say no to, the kind of absolute dictator who ran roughshod over anyone who dared to try standing in her way. I'd only met a couple of people like her in my life, and neither of them had enjoyed the fact that I don't believe in letting myself be run over.

  "Now I understand why the indications were so favorable," the woman said after a very brief hesitation, a cold smile suddenly turning the corners of her lipsticked mouth. Her cryptic comment didn't seem to be aimed at me, and the smile definitely wasn't. "If you need to see some identification, that's easily taken care of."

  Her black shoulder bag matched her shoes, of course, and she didn't even have to open it. She reached into a pouch on the front of the bag and pulled out one of those ID holders that used to contain pictures until someone noticed how well they suited official needs. And official her ID looked, with seals and a badge and everything. Adele Henderson worked for the federal government.

  "You may call me Director Henderson," the woman said, holding up the ID where I could see it but obviously not about to turn it loose. "My companions are Grail and Jaril, the leaders of my field teams. Now may we come in?"

  "Oh, I don't think you actually n
eed to come in," I drawled, disliking her attitude more with every passing minute. "I really appreciate the government's efforts to get the program into my hands directly, but you can just hand the thing over and leave. Since the program is already paid for - "

  "What in hell are you talking about?" Henderson demanded, a storm more than just brewing in those very gray eyes. "What program?"

  "Why, the bounty forms program I sent for a couple of weeks ago," I answered, now playing wide-eyed and innocent. "Aren't you here to hand-deliver the program?"

  Henderson's glare looked downright evil, but I couldn't help noticing that the twins were very amused. The one in blue on the left stared straight at me with a smile that threatened to turn into a grin, and the one on the right seemed to be fighting not to laugh out loud. I heard a small groan that had to have come from Freemont, but for once I ignored his opinion. Playing games with the government wasn't very smart, but pushing back when I'm pushed is a habit I've never been able to break.

  "I think I've had enough of this," Henderson stated, not quite looking at me as she put away her ID. "Either we can talk here informally, or you and your partners can be taken somewhere that's a lot more official. The choice is yours, but it's a choice you will make right now."

  "No need to go anywhere else," Freemont said, suddenly right next to me. "Please do come in and sit down."

  Freemont stepped directly in front of me then, using surprise to make me back up, and our visitors were able to walk into the suite. I'd been half a heartbeat away from telling Henderson to take her best shot, and Freemont had obviously known it. I wasn't quite sure he'd done the right thing, but since it was already done I refrained from demanding that the trio get out instead of sit down. If the talk went the way I expected it to, I'd have lots of opportunity to order them to get out later.

  I wasn't surprised when our "guests" made straight for the couch in the sitting area, Henderson taking the middle of the couch and the twin men bracketing her. That left the two chairs for Freemont and me, as if we were the visitors rather than them. I retrieved my coffee from the table before sitting down in the chair to the right, but Freemont sat to the left without doing the same.

  It's bad manners to take refreshment without offering any to your guests, it makes those guests feel less than welcome. I didn't have to hope that the point wasn't lost on Henderson, not when she sat glaring at me again while I took a swallow of coffee. She knew exactly what I was doing, but her first words avoided that topic.

  "You should be pleased to know that your efforts over the past months haven't gone unnoticed," she said, her flat tone struggling to sound approving instead of hostile. "You and your partners aren't the only rogue hunters in this country, but you do seem to be among the most successful."

  "Nice of you to say so," I commented, making my tone as flat as hers had been. "If you and your bookends came here to give us a pat on the back as encouragement, it's appreciated but not really necessary. But it has been a long day, so - "

  "Taz!" Freemont yelped, ruining my chance to invite them out more courteously than I really wanted to. The woman was staring at me in a way that should have had her mouth open, and the two men weren't amused any longer. I guess they hadn't liked being called bookends, but twins are supposed to be used to that kind of thing, aren't they?

  "Are you trying to make it war between us?" Henderson finally asked, and strangely enough she didn't seem to be angry any more. "You have to know that playing superior won't get you anywhere, but you're still posturing as if this was a game. Do you have to be smacked down before you act like an adult, Jane?"

  "Well, if any smacking down is done, we all know that you won't be the one doing it, don't we?" I didn't quite spit the words in her face, but not because I didn't want to. As a child, I'd always hated being talked down to. As a grownup I refused to stand still for it. "You may have a ridiculously high opinion of yourself, lady, but you're nothing but an ordinary human. If it does come down to 'war,' as you put it, that fancy ID of yours won't save you from becoming the war's first casualty. And I haven't used the name Jane since I was six years old."

  "Please, let's not let this get out of hand," Freemont said as Henderson stared at me with faint surprise mixed with what actually looked like frustration. "Trying to push Taz around won't get you anywhere, Director Henderson, so why not simply tell us the reason you've come here. I'm sure you know we make a practice of cooperating with the authorities."

  "Yes, you do keep mostly within the bounds of the law," Henderson granted him, a queen throwing some crumbs to a commoner. Well, maybe she wasn't being that high and mighty, but she still rubbed me the wrong way. "All right, Ryan, I will get right to the reason we've come. I run a federal task force whose members are the best of the best. Our purpose is to find rogues of all kinds and put an end to their depredations, and you three have qualified to join our ranks. As soon as you finish giving the local police what they need in the matter of the ghouls, you'll pack up and accompany my people to the next assignment."

  Henderson was back to being coolly in charge. By the time she finished speaking she was staring straight at me again, instead of still looking at Freemont or glancing at George where he hovered near the windows. There wasn't even the smallest trace of a smile on her face, but the look in her eyes said I'd been put in my place and nailed down there.

  "My partner uses the name Freemont and I use the name Taz," I said after a moment, wanting her to know I wasn't just blurting out something without thinking. "I'm sure you already know that from whatever file you have on us, but calling people by their formal first name is a subtle way of establishing your control over them, your superiority to them. We're flattered by the government's appreciation of our efforts, Adele, and my partners may even take you up on the offer, but I'm not interested. Was there anything else?"

  "You think you can refuse?" Henderson said with an unbelieving laugh. She really looked as if she thought I was joking or was just trying to save face, but the man who'd been called Grail put a hand on her arm.

  "She's serious, Henderson, so let's not make things worse," he said in a soft, pleasant, faintly sexy voice. "I know you want to let her know you're in charge, but if you keep trying to rub her nose in the point you'll lose her. We don't really want to lose her."

  Henderson glared at the man who'd spoken, but when she glanced at the twin named Jaril she saw that the second brother agreed with the first. She wasn't at all happy with the conclusion, but a deep breath calmed her down some.

  "All right, then I'll explain to her why she can't refuse," Henderson said, back to looking at me and not the men. "You'll be going to police headquarters in the morning, Ms. Bell, and if you don't go there in the company of one of my people you probably won't walk out again without a good deal of trouble - if at all. That detective named Wilson doesn't like you, and he believes in doing something about people he dislikes. You do remember the accusations made against you by Detective Wilson in the warehouse, don't you?"

  "What about them?" George demanded, and now he hovered next to my chair instead of by the windows. "Wilson can't have found any evidence to back up his claim that Taz was part of the gang because she isn't part of it. What else can he do?"

  "He can - and did - slant his questioning of the man whose wrist Ms. Bell broke," Henderson answered with a very smarmy smile. "The man has his own grudge against your partner, so when Wilson encouraged the prisoner to admit that Ms. Bell was part of the gang, the man did exactly that."

  "Then why isn't Taz already under arrest?" Freemont put in with a frown while George just stared at Henderson. "If the frame is in place, the picture ought to be of her in a jail cell."

  "Detective Wilson isn't stupid," Henderson said, turning her smile on Freemont. "He intends to arrest her in a controlled environment, giving her little or no chance to hurt anyone. He'll be able to do that when she shows up at the station, and until then he has officers in place all around this motel to make sure she doesn't escape. Joi
ning my task force has suddenly become much more attractive, hasn't it, Ms. Bell?"

  "If you say my name like that one more time I'll punch your face in," I said, showing my own smile. "And no, I haven't changed my mind about joining you. Now take your boy toys and get out."

  I expected all of them to throw a fit, but they disappointed me. Grail shook his head with a brief look of sharp annoyance, Jaril seemed to be swallowing amusement again, and Henderson lost only some of her cool.

  "Now you expect me to believe you'll let yourself be arrested?" she demanded, calm stuffed down over her words. "Or do you intend to run instead? Become a fugitive on the run from the law? How much good do you think you'll do then? You certainly won't be able to collect bounties, so how will you live? You - "

  "That's enough," I interrupted with a slash of one hand through the air. "I'd rather end up in jail or even executed than be forced to work for a petty dictator like you. Everything done will be what you think needs doing, whether or not that happens to be true. And if I let myself be blackmailed once, you're guaranteed to keep using the tactic to force me into toeing your line. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Ms. Henderson, but you can take your job and shove it."

  "No, don't bother, Adele," the one named Jaril said as Henderson actually began to argue again. "We agreed to let you handle the negotiations, but only because you insisted you knew the right way to do it. Now I think you'd better go and wait for us in the car."

  "You're making a mistake, Jaril," Henderson growled as she got to her feet, glaring from one to the other of her companions. "You and Grail are both wrong, which you'll learn the hard way if you take on this female in any way other than mine. Those who lack discipline need more direction, not less."

  "That would be a topic of discussion for another time," Grail put in, clearly backing up what his brother had said. "Right now we need you to leave."

  Henderson turned to glare at me a final time, and then she stomped to the door and walked out. The small slam of the door let us know how unhappy she was, but the noise didn't seem to bother the two men left on the couch. Grail's sprawl was very much on the languid side, and Jaril looked almost ready to put his feet up and get really comfortable.