“Georgetown,” he said.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Georgetown
March 28, 2008
2:55 p.m.
Hazel turned to him. “Follow me,” she whispered.
Cole allowed her to lead him away from Riley’s room, down hallways and through several rooms. He wondered how big the house was; already, he wasn’t sure he could find his way back to Riley. When they got to a library with windows that overlooked the street, Hazel closed the door and crossed to the bar.
“I don’t know about you, but after that, I could use a drink.” She pulled out a bottle of Maker’s Mark and poured several fingers into two crystal glasses. She handed him one, then pointed toward a couple of chairs in the corner.
“What was that you gave her?”
“Just a mild sleeping pill. She never takes meds so it doesn’t take much to knock her out.” Hazel shook her head. “That woman is the toughest person I know, male or female.” She took a long drink. “It must have been pretty damn bad to shake her up like that. I’ve got a feeling I should be thanking you for saving her life.” She raised her glass as though toasting him.
Cole shrugged. He looked around the room wondering how he’d come to this place. He should have done more, he thought.
“Did you see her throat? The man who had his hands around her like that intended to kill her. He probably still does.”
“Hang on,” Cole said. “Things have been happening too fast. Let’s back up a bit. I’m Cole Thatcher.” He stuck out his hand.
“Oh!” she said flashing him a lascivious smile. “So you must be Riley’s buck naked red neck. How d’ya do?” Her eyes danced and sparked, giving his entire body the once over. Then she took his hand in her strong dry grip. “Hazel Kittredge.”
“It seems you know a few more intimate details about me —”
She laughed and drained her glass in one long pull. “Well, you’re wondering who I am and how two so very different people like Maggie Riley and Hazel Kittredge came to be such good friends. And trust me, you are not the first to ask.”
“She said you are her sister.”
He saw her purse her lips in an attempt at a smile before she looked away. When she spoke, Cole heard the choked emotion in her voice.
“Riley and I met,” she said, “when we were nine years old and both our daddies were posted to the U.S. Embassy in Barbados. We looked so much alike back then, people often took us for sisters. I tried to stay out of the sun, but that girl was outside so much, she was darker than me. Some little girls played house or princess, but we played sisters.”
Cole watched her throw back the remainder of her whiskey. She swallowed and stared into space as though she were looking back at those two little girls.
“My family was transferred to Cairo for a few years, but I met up with Riley again when we were all posted to Paris. Time and distance hadn’t changed a thing. We were still sisters even though we were teenagers, and we didn’t look a damn thing alike anymore. She’d stayed small and lean,” Hazel said with a laugh, “and I just kept busting out all over.” She waved a hand in the air to indicate her body.
“That’s not a bad thing,” he said. “It looks very good on you.”
She dabbed at her eye. “Ooh, Riley was right. You are a Southern gentleman.”
“I grew up in Florida. I don’t know if that counts as the South.”
She smiled. “Honey, if you’re black, Florida is the South for sure.”
He nodded. “So you’ve stayed friends since childhood, even though she lives on a boat and you live —” He waved his hand at their surroundings.
“That’s right. Granddaddy was an inventor and made a ton of money. All my daddy ever wanted to do was work in the foreign service. So, when granddaddy died, it fell to yours truly here to figure out what to do with it all. I got myself a little business degree from the London School of Economics while Riley was off playing soldier, and I established the Kittredge Foundation. Philanthropy suits me.” She smiled. “And, since our primary focus is on black women and girls, getting them through college and out of abusive relationships, this place has served as a shelter for more than a few battered women.”
“I thought you and Kayla looked like you’d done this kind of thing before.”
She smiled, but there was less sparkle in it. “More times than you want to know.” She jumped up and went to the bar, returned with the bottle and refilled his glass. “So tell me about what happened before you got here.”
“I’m not sure where to start.”
“Start with what you know about this man. The one who hurt her.”
Cole told her about meeting Riley in the islands, going together to Dominica, and then Dig showing up. He skipped over all the parts about what they were doing there. He explained about flying up to DC, going to her father’s house, seeing Dig enter and dealing with the housekeeper before hearing them coming down the stairs.
“I wasn’t even thinking. I just grabbed the closest thing at hand and hit him with it.”
“Thank God you were there. From what I know about him, he is CIA. Riley dated him for more than a year, so she may have told him about me — but he also has the resources to find out who her friends and associates are. And that means we aren’t safe here. Do you have any idea what this is about?”
Cole wondered what he should say. If he tried to explain it all, he’d wind up sounding like some kind of nut case. He’d seen the looks on people’s faces too many times before.
“Yes and no. I know about his kind, and I know that there is something so important to them, they’ve killed before to keep the secret buried. I think it’s this thing that he was talking about, this Operation Magic, though that’s the first time I’ve heard that name. I can tell you this — I intend to get my hands on it first and to expose it and them.”
“Ah, tilting at windmills, that’s right. I remember her telling me that. I like that about you, Thatcher. I do a lot of that myself.”
“The thing is, I need to get back down to the islands as soon as I can.” He wanted more than anything in the world to take Riley back with him. He needed her brain to help him solve the rest of this, and – who was he kidding? He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman before.
And it was because of that, because of what he felt for her, that he had to leave her behind now.
“She’s going to be worried about her boat,” he said. “But I can take care of it. This guy, this Diggory Priest, what he wants most is this Magic thing, and he knows I’m the only one with a hope of finding it. Once he realizes I’m back down in the islands, he’ll follow me. And I trust you’ll take care of her, help her deal with the arrangements for her dad, get her whatever help she needs?”
Hazel nodded. “That’s what I do best. She’s gonna need a lot of rest, but I don’t think any of us should stay here tonight. I have a friend. We’ll be safe at his place. And I’ll call my pilot and tell him to ready a plane for you. We don’t have our own jet, but the Foundation buys several hundred hours of fly time every year. The pilot needs twelve hours notice. In the morning, after you’re gone, I’ll keep our girl here on the move so that bastard can’t find her.”
After a light knock, Kayla’s head appeared around the door.
“Miss Kittridge, I’ve just seen a black Town Car pass the house for the second time,” she said.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
At sea off Guadeloupe
February 17, 1942
Captain Lamoreaux turned the rings on the barrel combination lock until the four digits lined up as 0322. He pulled on the lock and it fell open with a soft snick. He rose and stepped back from his desk leaving the pouch lying there. He glanced first at Michaut who still stood by the door, then back at Woolsey.
“Lieutenant, you go ahead and remove the documents.”
