Blood Money Page 11

  The old man answered on the first ring. They again ran through the all-clear signal, then Kelton said:

  “All right, Walter. What the hell is going on?”

  “You’re being watched.”

  “By who?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Walter said. “But we have to assume it’s the Feds.”

  “I thought you said that as of this morning, they were still looking for us down south?”

  “According to my contacts, they were.”

  “Then how did they find us up here?”

  “Either my source was led astray—which is not very likely—or the people who are currently following you are part of a different group, one that is operating outside of the sphere of influence of my contacts.”

  “I thought your connections ran deep,” Kelton said.

  “They do,” Walter replied. “Unfortunately, they don’t run real wide.”

  Kelton closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “But you’re sure there is someone out there.”

  “Positive,” Walter said. “I watched as they followed you from the mall to the warehouse. Three vehicles, working in tandem. They set up a perimeter around your location after you came to ground.”

  “Why didn’t they come and pick us up while we were in the warehouse?” Kelton said. “We were sitting ducks in there.”

  “They were waiting.”

  “For what?”

  “Me.”

  “Why were they waiting for you?”

  “Not me specifically,” Walter said. “But the person you were going to meet at the warehouse.”

  “But how did they know that I was meeting someone?”

  “It’s obvious, based on your actions over the course of the last twelve hours.”

  “Maybe,” Kelton said. “Or maybe they’ve been listening to our phone conversations the whole time.”

  “Again with the phone?” Walter said. “I told you, it’s secure. You have to trust me on this. They cannot hear what we’re saying to each other.”

  “Fine,” Kelton said. “I’ll stop bringing up the phone. But if it’s so damned secure, then how the hell are these guys able to keep up with us?”

  “The only thing I can figure is that they’ve been following you since you pulled our friend out of the safe house.”

  Kelton was shaking his head. “That’s impossible. Even if they did follow us to my house, our little trek through Balboa Park would have shaken them loose.”

  “Unless they planted a bug at some point.”

  “No way,” Kelton said. “The opportunity hasn’t been there.”

  “Yes it has.”

  “When?”

  “Back at the safe house,” Walter said. “Before you picked Jessica up.”

  Kelton uttered a humorless laugh. This was starting to get ridiculous.

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Walter said.

  “Where did they put it?” Kelton said. “We’ve ditched every piece of clothing she was wearing when I picked her up. Everything except—” He stopped in mid-sentence, shook his head.

  “Except what?”

  “Her goddamned shoes,” Kelton said.

  “Fifty bucks says you find a bug in the sole.”

  Kelton closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. “So that means this whole situation was a set-up since the beginning?”

  “Since they had her in their custody, yes. I figure after they picked her up, they realized she’d be perfect bait to draw out whomever was assisting her. So they bugged her and leaked her location through the same channels that allowed me to contact her initially.”

  “And you had no idea about any of this when you sent me to go get her?”

  “None whatsoever,” Walter said. “I only grew suspicious after your little mishap down in San Diego. While probing around for information, I became aware of the possibility that something bigger may be going on than I initially had thought. So I set up this little charade today to determine whether or not you were, in fact, being followed. Which, as it turns out, you were.”

  Kelton closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “So what happens now?”

  “First, take care of the bug,” Walter said. “Then lose your followers. After you’re certain you are alone again, give me a call, and we’ll set up another rendezvous. But remember, watch what you say at all times. You still have to assume they can hear you under any normal circumstances.”

  “All right,” Kelton said. “But I can’t guarantee that I’ll be using this cell next time I call you.”

  “No problem. Whatever phone you call from, just use the all-clear and I’ll know it’s safe to talk.”

  Kelton pushed the END button on the phone but didn’t put it away. He stared at the stall door for a few seconds, trying to decide whether or not he trusted Walter’s assurances that the cell phone was safe.

  He quickly realized that if it wasn’t safe, the Feds would be shutting him down any moment now; saying anything more on the phone wouldn’t endanger him any further. So he brought up an old friend’s number from his mental rolodex and started dialing the number.

  He had punched four of the digits into the phone when the bathroom door opened.

  Kelton froze in mid-dial. He stared at the little gap between the door of the stall and its partition, listening as the footsteps of his new co-inhabitant grew closer. With every step, he grew more certain that the phone wasn’t safe, that whomever had been following them had heard his conversation with Walter, and they were going to pull the plug on the whole charade.

  He was preparing himself for this inevitability when the footsteps stopped. There was a brief pause, and then came the unmistakable sound of someone urinating.

  Kelton realized he’d been holding his breath, and let it out quietly.

  He cast his gaze down and to his right. There was a space between the bottom edge of the stall and the floor, and from his angle, Kelton could see the right shoe of the man peeing next to him. It was a shiny black Rockport.

  The man finished up, flushed the urinal, washed his hands, and left the bathroom.

  Kelton waited a moment then finished dialing. The other line was picked up during the third ring.

  “Who the hell is this?” said the deep baritone voice of Dave Willis.

  “Hey Willis. It’s Kelton.”

  “Kelton! Good to hear from you. It’s been a while.”

  “Yes it has.”

  “Where are you calling from?”

  “A friend’s cell phone,” Kelton said.

  “You, on a cell? I thought you hated those things.”

  “It wasn’t my choice, believe me.”

  “Oh, I do,” Willis said. “So what can I do for you on this fine afternoon?”

  Kelton paused. He was reluctant to discuss details over the phone, but considering the situation, he couldn’t think of any viable alternatives. “I need to slip some surveillance.”

  Willis replied without missing a beat. “Electronic or eyeball?”

  “Both.”

  “And I assume you need to lose them simultaneously?”

  “Yes,” Kelton said. “Preferably without letting them know something is going on.”

  “I figured that was a given,” Willis said. “Do you know how many people are involved on their end?”

  “Not exactly,” Kelton said. “But I have reason to believe that the number is relatively small.”

  “Small enough to overpower them with sheer numbers?”

  “Most likely.”

  “Then we’ll use that to our advantage,” Willis said. “Do you know how they’re tracking you?”

  “Through a transmitter planted in my partner’s shoe.”

  “So you’ll need a new pair when you ditch the old ones,” Kelton said.

  “That’s right.”

  “What size?”

  “Women’s size 9.”

  “I’ll pick some up for your friend,” Willis said.

  “Actually, why
don’t you pick up a pair for me too,” Kelton said. “Men’s 12. And two sets of new clothes, one for each of us, just to be safe.”

  “No problem. I assume you’ll need a new set of wheels also?”

  “Yes we will.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Kelton said. “Anything else?”

  “Not off the top of my head.”

  “When do you want to do this thing?”

  “Tonight.”

  “What time?”

  “That’s up to you,” Kelton said. “How soon can you have it set up?”

  “A few hours.”

  “All right,” Kelton said. “I’ll call you back at six o’clock to see how it’s coming.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Kelton flipped the phone shut, then stood, pulled his pants up, flushed the toilet, washed his hands, and walked back out into the restaurant.

  As he headed towards the table, he noticed that the restaurant had gained a few customers. When he’d entered the bathroom, four of the tables had been sitting empty, but now there was only one unoccupied. Of all the new customers, Kelton keyed in on one specifically; a bald, 40-year old, well-groomed man in a polo shirt and khakis, sitting two tables away from Jessica.

  Kelton let his eyes skitter down towards the man’s feet and saw a pair of shiny black Rockports.

  While this certainly didn’t guarantee the bald man was an agent, it did raise Kelton’s suspicions. While in the bathroom, he had been contemplating letting Jessica in on what was going on, but considering the circumstances of the last couple minutes, the decision was clear. For now at least, Jessica would have to continue to remain in the dark.

  She was glaring at him as he sat down. It was obvious she thought something was going on behind her back. “You were in there quite a while. Everything come out all right?”

  “Just fine,” Kelton said. He put the napkin in his lap, pulled his chopsticks apart, rubbed them together to knock off any splinters, and shoved a pile of noodles into his mouth.

  Jessica was still looking at him intently. She wasn’t showing the slightest amount of interest in her food. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  Kelton swallowed, washed his food down with a drink of water. “About what?”

  “About what’s going on.”

  “I already told you. Nothing’s going on. Now eat your food before it gets cold.”

  Jessica closed her eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Eventually, she started eating.

  “So what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” Jessica said. They were back in the car, heading west on I-91 towards Orange County.

  Kelton opened his mouth but Jessica jumped in before he could say anything.

  “Wait a minute,” she said. “Let me guess. We’re going to go to a hotel and sit around on our asses until you hear from Walter, after which, you’ll jump up and run to wherever he tells you, where we’ll sit around some more until he tells you he’s not coming, and then we’ll leave and go through the entire scenario again.”

  “I take it you’re not happy with the way the situation is being handled.”

  Jessica glared at him. “You think?”

  “Do you have an alternate course of action in mind?”

  “No,” Jessica said. “But I do think we need to take more control of the situation. Not just jump when Walter says to. Maybe we should decide on a place to meet and wait for him to show up, not the other way around.”

  “That’s a grand idea and all,” Kelton said, “But he’s the one that got this operation up and running, which means he’s the one that gets to call the shots.”

  “But we’re the ones that are taking the risks.”

  “That’s true,” Kelton said. “But he’s paying me well to take those risks. I knew what I was getting into before I agreed to do this job.”

  “Maybe you did, but I sure as hell didn’t.”

  “No, but you’re the one that got yourself picked up and put in federal custody,” Kelton said. “If it wasn’t for Walter, you’d be sitting in some cell somewhere, begging for them not to throw you in jail for the next ten years. So I’d stop complaining about the way things are being handled if I were you.”

  Jessica sighed, dropped her gaze. “You’re right. I appreciate everything he’s done, I really do. It’s just . . . I don’t know, I’m just not used to this kind of stress. I think it’s starting to get to me.”

  “That’s understandable,” Kelton said. “And don’t worry, it’ll be over soon. In the meantime, I think I know something that will loosen you up a bit.”

  “Oh yeah? What?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Don’t give me that crap,” Jessica said. “What do you have in mind?”

  Kelton looked at her, flashed a brief grin. “We’re going to Disneyland.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jessica said.

  They had parked the car on the fourth level of the massive Disneyland parking structure and were riding the lengthy escalator down to the tram that would transport them to the main gate.

  “Sure,” Kelton replied. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  Jessica looked around to make sure nobody else was within earshot. Apparently satisfied the coast was clear, she said, “Because half the state is looking for us right now.”

  “Not half the state,” Kelton said. “Just a few federal agents. They pulled the locals off the case, remember?”

  “Still,” Jessica said. “Don’t you think we should be keeping a low profile?”

  “Why do you think we’re wearing sunglasses and hats?”

  She punched him in the shoulder. “I’m serious. This is insane.”

  “Not really,” Kelton said, stifling a smile. “We need a break from all this stress. Besides, you’re the one that said you didn’t want to just sit around in a hotel room until we heard from Walter again.”

  “I know, but this isn’t quite what I had in mind.”

  They stepped off the escalator and headed towards the line of people waiting to get on the tram.

  “Trust me,” Kelton said. “Everything will be fine. Just relax and try to have some fun.”

  Because it was an afternoon in the middle of the week, the line to get into Disneyland was relatively short; it only took them half an hour to get through the obligatory security checkpoint, buy tickets and pass through the front gates of the Magic Kingdom.

  They were immediately assaulted by Walt Disney’s delightfully revisionist version of Main Street, which opened up towards Sleeping Beauty’s Castle in the center of the park. Hundreds of people were walking around, most pushing strollers or hand-in-hand with their children, many of them with faces that reflected their dogged desire to force their families into having a good time no matter what.

  “It’s been at least fifteen years since I’ve been here,” Jessica said. Her eyes were wide and a little smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Everything looks almost exactly as I remember it, only smaller.”

  Kelton laughed. “Yeah, I don’t know if it’s truly the happiest place on earth, but it always makes me feel pretty good inside.”

  “How often do you come?”

  “A couple times a year,” Kelton said.

  “By yourself?”

  He nodded.

  She cast him a glance, question marks in her eyes. “Isn’t that a bit odd? After all, you’re a grown man.”

  He shrugged. “I suppose it could be seen as odd by some. I can’t say that I’ve ever given a moment’s thought as to what someone else might think of it.”

  They walked past the dual statues of Mickey Mouse and Walt Disney standing at attention, side by side, situated in the middle of a roundabout at the end of Main Street.

  “Is there a reason you come back all the time?” Jessica said. “Or do you just like the place?”

  “It’s the last place I remember coming to with my parents,” Kelton said. “It always brings back me
mories of them. Dim ones, to be sure, but it’s all I have.”

  Jessica looked up at him, her face solemn, and without saying a word, slipped her hand in his, and together they walked under the opening in Sleeping Beauty’s Castle.

  They made their way through Fantasyland and headed down the path that served as the beginning of the parade route towards Mickey’s ToonTown. There were people everywhere, and while Kelton thought it likely that a couple of them were agents, intent on monitoring their actions while they were in the park, it was impossible to tell which ones.

  “Which ride are we going on first?” Jessica asked.

  Kelton pointed towards to his right.

  She crinkled her brow. “It’s a Small World? Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  Jessica shrugged. “I don’t know. I just figured you for more of a Matterhorn, Space Mountain type of guy.”

  “Oh, I love roller-coasters, but it’s a bit of a tradition of mine for It’s A Small World to be my first ride of the day.”

  Jessica laughed softly, shook her head.

  “What’s the matter, you don’t like the ride?”

  “Not really,” Jessica said. “It’s long, slow and boring. And that damn song plays incessantly. And loudly. The whole time.”

  Kelton smiled. She was right, of course. The ride was pretty much precisely as she described it. Which was exactly why they were going on it.

  They reached the opening of the line at the same time as an older, gray-haired couple. Kelton paused, held out his hand palm up and said, “After you.”

  The older man nodded his head in thanks and they made their way towards the ride. Kelton and Jessica followed after them. Behind them a Hispanic family of five filed into the line, the three young children chattering excitedly in Spanish.

  Everything was shaping up perfectly.

  “Thanks for indulging me,” Kelton said as they reached the front of the brief line.

  “Not like I had much choice,” Jessica said.

  The young woman working the ride asked the gray-haired man in front of them how many were in his party. The man told her two and she sent them to row one. She turned towards Kelton and asked the same question.