Murder Under Cover (18 page)

“He worked in San Francisco for a Toronto-based company and traveled back and forth regularly. It was a good cover.”

I was still frowning. “Show me again how big this flash drive is.”

Derek finished a bite of salad, then said, “Give me your hand.”

I reached out and he took hold of my hand. Wrapping his thumb and finger around the first knuckle of my pinkie, he said, “It’s smaller and thinner than the tip of your little finger.”

“Huh.” I tried not to obsess over the feel of his hand touching mine. I ask you, how could scarred knuckles and a callused palm be such a thorough turn-on? “How in the world are we supposed to find something so small?”

“It’s probably hidden in something bigger. It might even be hidden in plain sight. Affixed to a small makeup mirror in Robin’s purse or slipped inside a checkbook or cigarette case. Or a key ring.”

“So we’re back to thinking that Robin had it?” I popped a tomato chunk into my mouth.

“Just theorizing.” He pushed away from the table and disappeared down the hall, then returned with my purse. “May I?”

“Sure.”

Reaching into my bag, he first pulled out my small bottle of aspirin. “You could tape the flash drive to the bottom of the inside of this container and fill it with aspirin. Or you could cover it in plastic wrap and shove it into a jar of face cream, then smooth out the surface. Something like that won’t show up on an airport security screen.”

“You know too much about this stuff.”

“It’s a job.”

I put down my fork, feeling defeated. “We’ll never find it.”

“That doesn’t sound like my daring sleuth.” He grabbed my hand and shook it playfully. “This is why we need to go through Robin’s movements that night, step by step.”

“You really think Robin was a soft target?”

“It’s the only way to explain why Alex drugged her.”

My shoulders slumped. “Another detail I forgot about. So you’re thinking Alex drugged her so that while she was sleeping, he could hide the flash drive somewhere in her house.”

He waved his fork. “That’s one possibility, of course.”

“But you clearly don’t think so.” I pondered as I sipped my martini. I’d never been crazy about the taste of martinis, but I did like the feeling of sophistication that drinking them gave me. Sort of like playing dress-up when I was young.

“It would make more sense if he thought Robin had it,” I conceded. “Then he drugged her and searched for it.”

“It would make more sense,” he restated, probably for my benefit.

I took a quick bite of crunchy romaine, then shook my head. “But that would mean that Robin had the flash drive. And why in the world would she have a flash drive with Ukrainian government secrets on it?”

He stared at me steadily as he chewed.

“What?” Then it hit me and I choked on a laugh. “You can’t be serious. You think Robin is some kind of . . . what? A secret agent? A spy? You’re way offtrack.”

“All right,” he said with a casualness I didn’t trust for a second. “You tell me. Why did Robin have something so critical to the Ukrainian government that they would send one of their top operatives to steal it?”

“Who says she had it?”

“We’re just tossing around scenarios right now. Examining things from all angles. Every possibility is on the table until it’s eliminated.”

“Then let’s eliminate this one first.”

“Yes, let’s,” he said mildly. “Tell me how Robin met Alex.”

“Okay, she walked into a take-out restaurant. Alex was already in line and they struck up a conversation. There was no preset meeting, no weird intrigue, no brush pass.” I used air quotes to indicate my contempt for the whole idea that Robin could be involved in some idiotic spy game.

“All right,” he said. “Then what?”

I started to go on, then stopped. I searched my memory banks and played back my original conversation with Robin. Something was off about my starting point. And it bugged the heck out of me to admit it. “I was wrong. Robin was in line at the restaurant when Alex came in after her.”

He reached for my hand in a show of sympathy. “Go on, love.”

“While they were waiting for their food, they struck up a conversation.”

“Did Robin tell you who spoke first?”

I thought back to the night we talked about her encounter with Alex. “She didn’t say. She just said that they were having a fascinating conversation and when their orders were called, Alex said he didn’t want to be like ships passing in the night and never see her again, so they got a table and ate together.”

“Do you remember Robin telling you anything about him that I haven’t heard yet? Anything at all?”

All right, Derek was getting to me. I rubbed my cold hands together because I was starting to worry now. Still, there was no chance in hell that Robin was a spy. “We should probably get her on the phone for more details, but I do remember her saying that he was an engineer born in the Ukraine. He came over here to go to Berkeley and never left. He was cute and funny and sexy, blah, blah, blah.”

“Blah, blah, blah?” he said.

I chewed on my lip. “I shouldn’t belittle her feelings for him. She was so happy. She blushed when she talked about him. Robin never blushes. And she called him Mr. Wonderful.”

“She cared for him,” he mused. “I saw that, as well.”

“That’s right. You were here when she talked about how he liked museums and ball games and all that stuff.”

“Yes, and you called him a metrosexual.”

“Exactly.”

“I still have no idea if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“I’m not sure, either,” I said, laughing. My smile faded slowly. “She really seemed to like this guy Alex, and I was worried, somewhat selfishly, I guess. Because I know she’s been in love with Austin forever, and I’ve always wanted them to get together. Of course, now it seems they have, so we’ll see what happens.”

“Did you share your concerns with her at the time?”

“Yes. She blamed Austin for not making a move in her direction. Said she wasn’t going to sit by the phone waiting for his call.”

“No, she doesn’t seem the sort who would sit around waiting for a man.”

“She’s definitely not.” I sipped my cocktail. “And you were here when she told us about Alex manipulating her into inviting him back to her place.”

His lip curled in derision. “Yes, I remember that part. So now where are we?” He consulted his notepad. “Let’s go on. Tell me again what the name of the restaurant was?”

“Kasa. It’s an Indian restaurant. There’re a few of them around the city. We laughed about that, because she’d just returned from India. But she still had a taste for Indian food.”

“Just a moment.” He dropped the pen on the notepad, glanced around the room as though he’d lost something, then turned to look at me. “She’d just returned from India?”

“Yes, she took a tour group there. I told you.”

“No, you didn’t. You left out that rather interesting detail.” His forehead was creased in thought. “How recently did she return from her trip?”

I gave him an odd look. “Are you sure I didn’t tell you this already?”

“No, you absolutely did not.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been distracted.”

“Yes, well.” He scribbled something on his notepad. “Plenty of distractions lately.”

“I’ll say.” Most of the distractions had been caused by Derek and his sudden constant presence in my life. Not that I was complaining. I gathered up our empty plates and took them into the kitchen. Derek beat me to the sink and took over, washing the dishes as we talked. I got the funniest little twinge around my heart as I watched him work in my kitchen. Talk about distractions.

“Anyway,” I continued after forcing my gaze away from his wet, soapy arms, “Robin was on her way home from the airport when she stopped at Kasa to get dinner to go.”

He ran hot water over each dish and utensil and placed them in the drainer. “And she was in India for what? Two, three weeks?”

“Three weeks.”

“Any idea where she went?”

“I know she landed in New Delhi and the trip centered around that area of the country. She took them to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. I think they rode elephants in Jaipur and camels somewhere else. You know, the usual. Then the group flew home and she flew to Varanasi to see her mother.”

“Her mother lives in Varanasi?” He tilted his head to look at me. “Why didn’t I know this?”

Frowning, I considered the question. “I’m really not sure. Anyway, she stayed with her mom for three days, then flew home.”

“And then she flew home,” he mused. “I assume she gathered her baggage, obtained her car from long-term parking, and headed for home. Unless someone picked her up. Did you?”

“No,” I interjected. “She drove her neighbor Sharon’s car to the airport and left her Porsche at home in the garage.”

“Why didn’t she just call a cab?”

I shrugged. “She did, but it didn’t show up and it was getting late, so Sharon gave her the keys to one of their cars. They have, like, four old cars.”

“Why didn’t Sharon just drive her?”

I smiled at his logical questions. Sometimes circumstances just weren’t logical. “Sharon was sick, and Robin didn’t mind paying the parking lot fee. It’s a tax writeoff for her.”

“Okay,” he muttered. “Okay. So she’s driving home. It was a long flight. She was hungry, so she stopped to pick up takeaway at this Indian restaurant.”

“That’s exactly how she described it.”

He nodded as he dried his hands on the dish towel. “So she was waiting for her food when a good-looking fellow walked in and struck up a conversation with her.”

I leaned back against the counter. “You’re making it sound like he was following her.”

“Am I?”

“You are. And that answering-a-question-with-a-question thing that you do? It drives me a little cuckoo.”

“Does it?”

I made a face and he grinned. “Sorry, love.”

I didn’t believe him for a second. “Where were we? Oh, yeah, that creep had to have been following her. That’s where you’re going, right?”

“Yes, that would be my guess.”

“Your guesses are usually accurate,” I said with grudging admiration.

“Thank you, love.” He held my face in his hands and kissed my forehead. “I know this is tough for you. Do you want to stop?”

“No, I’ll be better once we figure this out,” I said, and began to pace the short length of the kitchen. “So he asked her out to dinner, where he manipulated her into inviting him to her home. And then he . . . what? Drugged her in order to search her house for a tiny flash drive?”

“Go on.”

“What I can’t understand is, why do these people think Robin has the flash drive?”

“Because someone alerted them to the fact that she was bringing it back from India.”

“But who? And why? And how?” I looked at him with suspicion. “I don’t believe for a minute that Robin had anything to do with this, but I’m willing to admit that Alex might’ve been under the
illusion
that Robin brought the flash drive back from India.”

Derek smiled his approval. “All right, let’s continue on that track.”

“Okay, but I had another thought. There must’ve been a lot of planes coming in around the same time as Robin’s.”

“Yes?”

“So maybe someone on Robin’s plane or in the terminal dropped the flash drive into her carry-on bag, then followed her out and signaled someone like Alex to keep following.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“A lame one, right?”

He held up both hands. “I didn’t say that.”

“I appreciate it.” I stared at the floor as I started pacing again, this time moving out to the living room, where there was more room to roam. “Here’s another possibility. Maybe Alex was told to look for a certain woman and he mistook Robin for that person.”

“Mistaken identity?” He moved his head back and forth as if weighing the possibilities. “It could happen.”

I sighed. “It’s far-fetched, I know.”

“Darling.” He stepped into my path and put his hands on my shoulders. “How much do you know about Robin’s tour guide business?”

Confused, I looked at him, then did a double take. “No, no, no. Don’t go there.”

“It’s a simple question.”

I jerked back from him. “You honestly believe her tour guide company is a cover for espionage activities?”

“Is it?” he asked mildly.

“Stop that.” I jabbed my finger at his chest. “Stop doing that question thing and stop thinking Robin is a spy.” I was seriously cranky now.

He wrapped his arms around me and rubbed my back. He caught me off guard or I would’ve sidled away from him.

“I have no doubt that Robin is completely innocent,” he said, and kissed the top of my head.

I clutched his waist as I glared at him. “You’re damn straight she is.”

“Of course she is.” He met my gaze. “Another theory you haven’t mentioned is that Robin did have the flash drive and simply didn’t know it. Perhaps someone slipped it into her luggage, as you suggested. Or she might’ve brought it back from India as part of something completely innocuous. A souvenir or a trinket. She’s obviously American, and there might’ve been people scoping the terminals, looking for someone like her. A random choice. Someone friendly, innocent, trusting. Who better to use as a mule to smuggle something into the country? Once she was safely inside the U.S., they sent someone to collect it.”

“I like the random theory, but I can tell you don’t believe it.”

“Not really, but it’s important to consider every possibility.”

“Okay, we’ve considered it and discarded it. So you actually think Robin knowingly carried this thing all the way from India to the U.S.”

“Not knowingly, perhaps. She might’ve been unaware of it. It was hidden in something, perhaps. But I definitely believe she brought it back with her.”