Secret Lives

Club Royale should be sued for misrepresentation. It had a classy name but that's all. It was a dive, pure and simple, a dirty, smoke-filled bar that served watered-down drinks, the last place I'd want to go to but then again I wasn't there by choice. It was a job.

My name is Robert Tanner even though my drivers license, passport and the mailbox in the lobby of my apartment building say otherwise. To most of the world I'm Michael Drake, freelance news correspondent, a position that provides a cover for traveling internationally. I lost my true identity when I became a member of a special unit in the US Department of Defense, singled out from my fellow college graduates because of my facility with languages. In the beginning I was just a translator, handling documents written by foreign governments but that position transitioned into one of a field agent, a fly on the wall who could understand conversations not meant for American ears. To achieve that, I've learned to blend in, to be invisible and keep my eyes and ears open.

As I nursed my drink, I tried to stay focused on my assignment but events of the past kept intruding on my thoughts. There was no denying that the divorce was my fault. It wasn't infidelity that separated us, it was the life I had chosen. There were too many birthdays and anniversaries missed, too many days and nights I couldn't account for. It was the doubts and secrets that broke up the marriage. Hell, she never even knew my real name. Angie had been the perfect wife and I lost her because I worked for a government agency that demanded my silence.

It was five years ago that Angie left, unable to deal with the wall of silence that separated us. I've kept track of her though. She married a successful businessman and finally seems happy if the pictures posted on her Facebook page are any indication. At least one of us is.

Would I make the same choice now to choose a career over my marriage? That's a question I've wrestled with for the last five years. If I'm being honest, the answer is no. But I made my choice and I'll have to live with it.

My current assignment is to shadow Harry Davis, a low-ranking official in the Department of Homeland Security. He was seen talking to a member of the Diamondback Raiders, a fringe paramilitary group and Harry's superiors contacted my boss.

For the last three days I've been tailing him and so far he hasn't noticed. I've developed a talent for makeup and disguises. Harry's a creature of habit, watching TV alone in his apartment while having his meals delivered by DoorDash or GrubHub. The fact that he's having a drink at an out-of-the-way dump like this is out of character and I expect something to happen.

From my vantage point at the bar, I had a clear view when a man dressed in fatigues joined him. I was confident that my boss would be able to identify the man from the pictures that I took with the miniature camera in my glasses. Unfortunately, in order to hear what they were saying I'd have to risk Harry getting a good look at me. I grabbed my drink and, in a walk indicating I had too much to drink "clumsily" bumped his table.

"Perdon. Estoy poco borracho ... um ... a little drunk, señor." I slurred, pretending to struggle with the English language.

The guy in fatigues was quick to respond. "Another fucking immigrant. Go back to Mexico or Colombia or wherever the fuck you're from."

As I backed away, I meekly said, "Sí, señor" and returned to the bar, this time sitting with my back to the table. There was no further need to watch them. They'd feel safe enough to continue their conversation, not realizing I had placed a listening device under their table.

As I adjusted my wireless earpiece, I heard Harry speak first.

"What's so important that we had to meet?"

"We supported the President and now he's trying to screw us."

"What are you talking about?"

"He's trying to take away some of our land to build that wall of his."

"It'll protect you from the Mexican drug cartels."

"We don't need a fucking wall. We take care of our own problems."

"But if he does what you want, he'll never be able to explain why he left a gap in the wall."

"I don't care how he does it but he's not taking our land. We didn't let the last President do it and we sure as hell won't allow him. You better make sure he gets the message. He wouldn't want us as enemies."

"I'll try but it won't be easy."

"With what we pay you, you better do more than try."

The meeting was short but Harry got the message. How he communicated it to his superiors was anyone's guess since he'd probably have to reveal his connection to the group.

The next day I submitted my report to my handler, Patrick Jamison and surprisingly I was told to take a seat while he read it. When he finished, he looked up and spoke.

"I'm going to ask you to continue your surveillance. The man Harry met with is more just someone leading a group of guys playing soldier. From other reports we've gotten, they're dangerous and we haven't figured out what their endgame is."

"How dangerous?"

"Dangerous enough to authorize you to carry a Glock 18."

"You know I've never carried one although I practice on a firing range every month to satisfy your requirement."

"Make an exception this time. I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Is that an order?"

"If that's what it takes, then consider it an order."

"Yes sir."

Every part of my job is done under the radar. Getting caught with a Glock 18 in my possession would raise many questions since it's illegal in the United States. Most Glock handguns are semi-automatic but the Glock 18 has the ability to be fully automatic, essentially turning it into a machine gun. I understood my boss' concern but if I had to carry a gun, I felt much more comfortable carrying the ghost gun I'd created with a 3D printer. It would be untraceable and easier to get rid of if necessary.

Everything was quiet until the President signed an executive order to exercise his power of eminent domain if property owners didn't accept the government's generous offer for their land. The wall had become an obsession and he was willing to pay twice each property's current value but even then, there were some who wouldn't sell, among them the Diamondback Raiders.

Going into the office was done on a very limited basis. The preferred method of communication was by using government issued cellphones with secure lines. Patrick answered on the first ring.

"Robert, I was just about to call you. What's up?"

"I've been following the news reports about the wall on the southern border especially those concerning the Diamondback Raiders and I have a question. Do they actually own that land?"

"Strange that you should ask that question. When the Department of Homeland Security did research as to who they'd have to compensate, the name Consolidated Trucking came up."

"Is that important?"

"Most people wouldn't think so but you might have a different opinion."

"What does Consolidated Trucking have to do with me?"

"The president of the company is Edward Castle."

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah. Then you understand why I have to take you off this assignment, don't you?"

"Yes. I can't be involved in anything related to my ex-wife's new husband."

There was a long pause before my boss continued.

"You okay, Robert?"

"Actually, no. I've tried to keep Angie out of my crazy world and now, this. Will you at least keep me informed as to what's happening?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. You might change your mind and get involved if you thought it might help her. After all, you still love her, don't you?"

There was a long silence before I answered, "Yes."

"In a few days I'll give you something else to work on, something to keep you distracted. In the meantime, don't do anything stupid, like trying to contact her. Got it?"

I responded, "Yes sir," before ending the call.

He was right of course. Even now I wanted to pick up the phone and warn her of what was going on. My new assignment involved monitoring the trafficking of illegal immigrants across the border. The wall was doing what the President said it would and my job was to gauge the reaction of the local mob bosses.

Even though I wasn't actively involved, cable news programs kept me informed about what was happening along the border. The President and the Diamondback Raiders were firm in their positions and an alarming number of incidents between government construction workers and the militia were reported daily. Finally, infuriated at their resistance, the President ordered a coordinated strike by the National Guard which resulted in the deaths of forty-three individuals including Harry Davis. I'd never be able to prove it of course, but my guess is that Harry was killed somewhere else and added to the body count. The President was famous for getting rid of anyone who wasn't following his agenda. Needless to say, the wall was going to be completed without any gaps in it.

In the days following that event it seemed strange that nothing changed. I had expected a reduction in criminal activities until media attention had died down but that's not what happened. Confirmation of that fact came three days later as I hung out at a truck stop. The food there was just passable but the information I was able to gather there was invaluable.

It was a Tuesday night when an unmarked eighteen-wheeler pulled in and the driver, who couldn't have weighed more than 160 pounds ordered enough food for at least twenty people. That could only mean one thing. The truck wasn't hauling groceries. Noting the license plate number I called Patrick.

"What's up, Robert?"

"I think I have a lead on an unmarked truck carrying illegals. Can you run a plate for me?"

"Sure, give me the number. It'll only take a few minutes."

I didn't have to wait long before I heard Patrick exclaim, "Damn."

"That didn't sound good", I responded.

"Where are you?"

"Just south of Sierra Vista."

"We don't have anyone near you to take over surveillance of the truck. I need you to follow it to where it delivers its cargo."

"Understood."

"Just inform us where it goes. Do not take any action. I repeat, DO NOT take any action."

"You're hiding something. What aren't you telling me?"

"You can't be involved in the arrest. It's one of Castle's trucks."

I shook my head and thought of that famous line in The Godfather. "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in." I've tried to stay out of the new life of my ex-wife but fate seemed to have other plans.

I walked to my car and grabbed one of the GPS trackers I keep in the glove compartment. Once it was placed in one of the truck's wheel wells the truck was easy to follow at a safe distance. Patrick was updated every half hour and the truck's final destination turned out to be a strip joint in Casa Grande, definitely not the good life those poor souls were promised. Federal agents took control of the situation soon after.

Driving back to my place in Tucson gave me time to think. It was obvious now that Edward Castle had been smuggling illegals across the border with the help of the Diamondback Raiders. The fact that it hadn't stopped with their deaths meant only one thing, his operation was much larger than just that one piece of land. The driver of that truck faced sex trafficking charges but tracing that delivery back to Edward was probably unrealistic. After I got a good night's rest I'd ask Patrick to investigate how much land along the southern border was owned by Consolidated Trucking.

Two days off was my reward for uncovering that shipment, a rare concession in my line of work but any quiet time I had hoped for was soon replaced by the sound of persistent knocking on my apartment door.

"I don't know who you are but it better be fucking important because you interrupted the one show I actually enjoy on TV."

"Can we talk inside, Mr. Tanner?"

"Who the hell are you and how do you know my real name?"

"My name is Anthony Robles and my employer makes it his business to know things."

My curiosity aroused, I had only one other question. "Are you armed?"

"Never carry a gun. I do my battles in court."

As I closed the door behind us, I directed Mr. Robles to the living room and reluctantly turned off the TV.

"Something tells me I'm not going to like what I hear, but who's your employer?"

"You know who my employer is."

"What does he want? He's already got the one thing that's important to me."

"He knows what you do and he wants you to stay out of his business affairs."

"If I'm right, he already knows I was taken off cases that involve him."

"And yet, twice now you've meddled in things."

"You must have very good sources to know that."

"My employer pays better than the government does."

"And how much is my cooperation worth?"

"Knowing how good you are at your job and the fact that you might be tempted to go rogue if you thought your ex-wife is involved, he's authorized me to pay you $150,000."

"And if I refuse his generous offer?"

"The alternative is not as pleasant."

As much as I'd like to pick up that much money for doing nothing, I hated watching bad guys get away with crimes even more. The only problem was that I needed to find out how much my ex was involved. Putting her in prison was a very disturbing thought.

"I have one condition."

"You want to speak with my employer."

"No, I want to meet with his wife, alone."

"Knowing the history the two of you have, I'm not sure he'll agree to that."

"That's my condition."

"I'll pass that information to my employer. You should have a response within a week."

To say Edward Castle was unhappy with Robert's condition would be an understatement. For five years he'd lived with the knowledge that he was his wife's second choice and her first choice was still alive, a situation Edward hoped to remedy in the future. He wouldn't do it himself, of course. That wasn't his style. He'd just plant the seed of how unhappy he was and let others believe that handling it would be beneficial to their career. Anthony Robles would just be the first. Plausible deniability had kept him out of prison in the past and this would be no exception.

"He's going to be a problem, Anthony."

"Sir?"

"He's going to try to win her back. There's no other explanation."

"Sir, your wife loves you.

"Yes, but perhaps not enough. I've never mentioned this before but, knowing he's still alive, I've never been completely confident in our marriage."

Attempting to lift Mr. Castle's spirits, Mr. Robles replied, "Considering his dangerous line of work, perhaps he won't be a threat much longer."

"I'd definitely sleep much better." Half-jokingly, he added, "In fact I'd probably send the person responsible a thank-you card."

Understanding the subtle message just conveyed, Mr. Robles simply nodded.

"Would you like me to make the arrangements for his payment?"

"Thank you, Anthony."

* * *

Castle knew this would be a difficult conversation with his wife but there was no way to avoid it.

"Angie, I need a big favor. I need you to meet with someone."

"What's so special that you need to ask?"

"It's someone you know."

"Who?"

"Robert Tanner."

"I don't know anybody by that name."

"I'm afraid you do, my dear, only you know him by another name. Michael Drake."

Trying to make sense of what she had just been told, Angie slowly sat down in a chair.

"I knew my ex had secrets, but are you saying I never even knew his real name?"

"I'm afraid so. I know it's asking a lot, but Robert has connections in government that might screw up a deal I'm working on. Unfortunately, before he agrees not to interfere he has one condition, that he meets with you."

"Will you be with me?"

"No. He said it had to be just the two of you."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Because you still love him?"

"I never made any secret of that. I told you that when I divorced him it wasn't because we stopped loving each other. I divorced him because of my jealousy when his explanations of what he did with his time weren't good enough. I might not love you in the same way but I promised to be the wife you wanted. I've done that haven't I?"

"Forgive my insecurity. It's the result of marrying a beautiful woman. I promise it will be the last time that you'll have to see him."

After a deep breath Angie replied, "When and where?"

"This Wednesday and here in our house. The least I can do is make you comfortable with the location."

Knowing that the meeting would be in her house made Angie feel a little more comfortable. She'd be more in control of the situation. What she didn't know was that the choice of the location was not for her benefit. Using security cameras installed in the house to protect against intruders Edward could observe the meeting between his wife and her ex.

The Castle mansion was given the nickname "The Chateau" by the locals. It was a ten-million-dollar property on three acres in Paradise Valley, Arizona. While other properties with their southwestern style blended into their surroundings, Edward Castle had made an obvious attempt to stand out from the rest. Its French-inspired exterior and crystal chandeliers would have been more at home in California wine county. Complete with six bedrooms, eight baths, a finished basement and beautifully manicured gardens, the house had floor-to-ceiling windows in the rear to provide breathtaking views of the area.

On the day of the scheduled meeting, I was greeted at the door by a gentleman who directed me to a room where Angie stood waiting.

"Hello, Angie."

"I don't even know how to respond to that. Should I call you Michael or Robert?"

"I'll answer to either one."

"We were married for six years and you never even told me your real name."

"It's complicated."

"After all these years, I still can't get a straight answer. Tell me, what do you want from me?"

"I just wanted to see you again. From the looks of this place it seems you definitely traded up."

"You know our divorce was never about money."

"Are you happy?"

"Well, I never have to worry about where my husband is or what he's doing."

"Are you sure?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Do you know how he can afford this big house, fancy cars and all the luxuries he provides?"

"Not that it's really any of your business but the company he took over from his father is doing very well."

I looked into Angie's eyes to see if there was any attempt at deception in her words. Finding none, I guessed that she was unaware of her husband's illegal activities. That would make sending him to prison easier. The question I couldn't answer yet was whether I'd be doing it because it was my job or because I wanted Angie back.

Angie continued, "What I don't understand is why Edward needed the help of a news correspondent."

"The answer is simple. My name isn't the only thing that's fake. In my real job I'm in a position to mess up one of his business deals if I wanted to punish him."

"Punish him for what?"

"For marrying my wife."

"Ex-wife."

"I stand corrected."

"So tell me Robert, was anything about our marriage real?"

"Everything that really mattered. Everything I did was to keep you safe. The less you knew, the less you were in danger."

"In danger of what? Danger from whom?"

"I still can't tell you that."

"Do you have any idea how many nights I went to sleep imagining you were with another woman when you were on some assignment?"

"I never cheated on you. Even after our divorce I haven't been with anyone else."

"Why not?"

"You're a smart woman. Figure it out." Trying to control my emotions I continued, "Tell your husband we have a deal. I'll expect the money within a week."

That night Angie relayed the message and although she provided few details of the meeting, her husband didn't pressure her to reveal them. There was no need. He'd watched the entire meeting on his phone.

* * *

I poured myself two-fingers of my favorite Scotch and turned on the TV. There was nothing I wanted to watch, I just needed something to keep my mind off Angie. I reached for my phone and called Patrick.

"Edward Castle offered me a bribe to stay out of his business."

"I'm glad you told me about it. Is that why you visited his house?"

"How the hell do you know that? Do I have to scan my place for bugs?"

"Don't bother. If you find them all, we'll just hide them in different places."

"You're unbelievable."

"In our business, no one is above suspicion. It comes with the job, Either deal with it or resign although I hope you'll stay. You're a very valuable member of the team."

It was two days later that I received a call from an unknown number on my government-issued cell phone. "I don't know how you got this number, but my sense of privacy is diminishing by the minute."

"Be home at noon to accept delivery" was all the voice said before ending the call.

At exactly 12 p. m. the driver of an unmarked van delivered a laptop bag. I carefully unzipped the bag and verified that it was indeed stuffed with fifteen banded packs of $100 bills before calling Patrick.

"The package arrived."

"Bring it to my office."

I threw the bag with its contents on the passenger seat next to me and started to drive the mile to the office but halfway there I realized something was wrong. My vision started to blur and I felt sick. As I started to lose consciousness I made an effort to stop the car but couldn't react fast enough to avoid slamming into the back of another car stopped at a traffic light.

The air was filled with screams as people who witnessed the event called 911. Police and EMS personnel found Robert slumped over the air bag that had deployed on impact and quickly transported him to Mercy hospital after he was extracted from his car.

Robert spent the next two days in the hospital. During that time he was visited by a man representing himself as his brother-in-law but who in reality was Patrick Jamison.

"How are you doing?"

"Okay, I guess but I still don't know what's going on. The doctors haven't told me much. Can you use your influence and find out what the problem is?"

"Sure. I may have to bend the truth a little but when has that ever stopped us?"

"And while you're at it could you smuggle in for me a good corned beef sandwich?"

"I'll see what I can do."

Patrick left the room and went to the nearest nurses' station.

"Excuse me, but I need to speak with the doctor in charge of the patient in room 406."

'I'm afraid he's in surgery so you might have quite a wait."

"What room is his supervisor in?"

"Room 810 but I don't think he'll see you without an appointment."

"He'll see me. Just tell me his name."

"Dr. Thomas. Dr. William B. Thomas."

Upon exiting the elevator on the eighth floor, Patrick was immediately greeted by a person standing behind a long counter.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Dr. Thomas."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but I have this." Patrick handed the woman his ID card from the Department of Defense.

"Wait right here."

Within two minutes the woman returned.

"He'll see you in his office. Follow me."

Upon entering room 810 Patrick was greeted by Dr. Thomas.

"Mr. Jamison, why is the Department of Defense interested in me?"

"We're not. We're interested in the patient in room 406."

"Give me a second to find out who you're referring to."

Mr. Thomas accessed hospital records on his desktop computer and read the information about the patient known as Michael Drake.

"I'm not really authorized to speak to you about him."

"Call his room. He'll give you permission to speak to me about his condition."

To avoid any legal problems in the future, Dr. Thomas did just that and Patrick finally got some answers.

"Michael Drake was unconscious when he was admitted here. Besides the obvious bruises from the accident, his hands showed traces of a chemical called DMSO and some nasty pesticides. DMSO is a chemical that helps medicines get absorbed through the skin. In this case it helped the pesticides get absorbed. In simple terms, he was poisoned and it wasn't an accident. Those things don't occur together naturally. Needless to say, the police have been notified."

"Is DMSO easy to get?"

"Very easy. Just check the internet."

"Michael said he had a bag with him. Do you know where it is?"

"There's no record of any bag in my files. His clothes, watch and jewelry were put in a secure locker."

"Do your records state the name of the officer on the scene?"

"Yes. Brian Shaw."

"Thank you, doctor. If I have any further questions I'll be in touch."

Patrick walked out of the room and back to the elevator. He had a lot to discuss with Robert.

* * *

"What did you find out?"

"The car accident was no accident. You were poisoned."

'That's crazy. I never ate or drank anything that I didn't prepare myself."

"It wasn't food poisoning. Something you touched was coated in a poison that entered through your skin."

"It had to be the bag or the money."

"And both of them have disappeared."

"What do you mean, disappeared?"

"The hospital knows nothing about them. Looks like someone took an early Christmas present for himself."

"It had to be either the cops or EMS people."

"Yeah, but proving it isn't going to be easy. We'll monitor everyone's activity. Maybe we'll get lucky and the person who took the bag will try to make a purchase they normally couldn't afford or will be affected by the same poison. I can't imagine that they'd be stupid enough to try to deposit it.

"Do you know what happened to my car?"

"One of my informants said that it was a crumpled mess after the accident so the police put it on a flatbed truck and hauled it to the police impound yard. When you're out of here you'll have to talk to your insurance company."

"That bastard tried to kill me."

"Looks like it."

"Can't we arrest him?"

"I wish we could but as of now we have nothing that will hold up in court."

"You said you had bugs in my house. That means you have the conversation between Robles and myself about the bribe on tape. Can't we use that?"

"That recording is technically illegal. In this state a conversation can only be recorded if at least one of the participants is aware of it being made and neither of you were."

"That doesn't mean I can't frighten him with the recording."

"I'd tell you to be careful but I'd be preaching to the choir. In our line of work, that's what keeps us alive. Just keep me in the loop, okay? I'll try to protect you as best I can."

"I'm really going to enjoy taking this guy down."

"Is that the agent or ex-husband talking?"

"Both."

A knock on the open door to his hospital room alerted them to the arrival of a visitor. Noticing who it was, Patrick turned to Robert and said, "We'll talk again" before exiting the room.

The police officer walked over to Robert's hospital bed.

"Are you well enough to answer a few questions?"

"Yes but something tells me I might need a lawyer. Are you here to arrest me?"

"No, just to ask you some questions about the accident."

"There's not much to tell. I was driving to the bank to make a deposit and I suddenly felt very ill. That's all I can remember."

"The hospital says you were poisoned. Who wants you dead, Mr. Drake?"

"I'm a reporter. You asked who wants me dead? People who don't like the questions I ask, terrorists who disagree with what I write, government officials who I expose, shall I go on?"

"No one in particular?"

"In my line of work, it could have been one of a hundred people. People say "I'll kill you if you print that story but this is the first time someone actually tried."

"Here's my card. If you can narrow down that list, contact me."

With that, a visibly unhappy officer left the room.

Robert had barely enough time to collect his thoughts when he had another visitor.

"Can I come in?"

"Angie, what are you doing here?"

"The hospital notified me you were here."

"Why did they call you?"

"Don't you remember? Seven years ago, when we were still married you were admitted to this same hospital. You had surgery to repair a torn ligament when you accidentally twisted your ankle. Apparently, you never removed my name and phone number from your emergency contact list. What happened?"

"Food poisoning. Something I ate wasn't cooked well enough."

"Bullshit. They wouldn't have called me for a simple case of food poisoning."

"If I tell you the truth, you'll call me a liar and worst of all you'll hate me."

"Damn you Robert, it was secrets that split us up. It can't get any worse."

"You're right, it can't. You want the truth? Your husband tried to kill me."

What I expected was a violent denial and a series of curses from my ex-wife for even suggesting that, but what I saw was a woman who knew or at least suspected the type of person her husband was.

"I should have warned you. At home, Edward is a loving husband but at business gatherings, I've seen glimpses of a totally different person. What actually happened?"

"He poisoned me and I lost control of my car."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I've still got all my fingers and toes so I guess the answer is yes."

"Is he going to be arrested?"

"I don't know but even if I did, I couldn't talk to you about the case. I hope you understand."

"You're afraid I'll report everything back to him, aren't you?"

"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't but I can't risk it. There's too much at stake."

Angie had only one more question before she left.

"Do you ever think about what you threw away for the sake of that job you have?"

"Every day, Angie. Every day."

* * *

Brian Shaw and all of the EMS workers involved in the traffic accident were notified to come to the hospital's emergency room. Upon arrival, each person was moved to a separate room where they were questioned and had blood drawn.

"What's this all about?" Shaw asked.

The attending physician replied, "That accident victim you rescued was poisoned and we need to find out if any of you have also been affected. Have you experienced any blurred vision or nausea?"

"No."

"Did you touch the victim or any of his possessions?"

"Yes."

"Were you wearing gloves?"

"Yes. I had to break his car window to get him out. I wore gloves to protect myself from the broken glass.

"That was more fortunate than you can imagine. I don't think you were poisoned but we'll be sure when the lab results come back. In the meantime we're going to keep you under observation."

Similar questions were asked in the other rooms to each of the members of the EMS response team with the same results. None of them tested positive for the poison.

* * *

As I lay in my hospital bed I thought about my situation. All I had was questions. I had agreed to take the bribe, so there was no reason to kill me. Why had Castle tried and would there be more attempts? Then there's the matter of the missing money. Was it just a crime of opportunity or was the bag taken to cover up the original crime? My thoughts were interrupted by a nurse who was there to take another blood sample. Considering how often they'd done that, it felt like they had as much of my blood as I did.

When I was released from the hospital I decided to have a talk with Castle. Patrick had supplied me with his personal cell phone number.

"Why are you calling me?

"I thought we had a deal."

"We do. What's the problem?"

"Our deal didn't include a murder attempt."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Your package almost sent me to the morgue."

"I don't know what you're talking about. What package?"

"Cut the crap. I recorded the conversation with your lawyer discussing our agreement."

There was a pause in the phone call as Castle processed that information.

"If that's true, why haven't you given the recording to your superiors?"

"To quote your lawyer, you pay better than the government."

"I think we need to continue this conversation in person. You know where I live."

"Sorry but after my recent accident I'd feel more comfortable on neutral ground."

"Pick the time and place."

"Paradise Valley Park has a skate park. Meet me there tomorrow at 10 a. m."

"A skate park?"

"Yeah, no other adults should be there. The alternative would be a place where each of us brings backup."

"Okay. There's just one problem. I don't drive anymore."

"Just make sure your driver stays in the car. I'd rather our conversation remained private."

* * *

I sat on a bench in one of the covered seating areas inside the skate park and waited for Castle. It wasn't long before he walked through the turnstile at the entrance and joined me.

"Tanner, considering our last conversation, I need to check you for any hidden recording devices."

He pulled out of his pocket one of those devices that people use to check for surveillance bugs in hotel rooms.

"No problem as long as I can check you too."

With those formalities completed we got down to the reason for this meeting.

"When you talked about the package, I assume you were talking about the payment we agreed on but I don't know anything about a murder attempt."

"Shortly after receiving a bag containing the money, I had a medical emergency that almost killed me."

"I don't understand."

"The hospital said that I was poisoned by something I touched and, in my mind it could only have been the bag or the money."

"You said it could have been them. Aren't you sure?"

"Funny thing is, both the bag and the money have disappeared."

"So, we're both out a hundred and fifty grand. I hope you don't expect me to replace it."

"No. I'm just saying the deal is off. I'm not interested in making a deal with the person who tried to kill me."

Looking around, Castle remarked, "I don't see any cops here to arrest me."

"When I have proof, you'll see plenty because if wasn't you then it was someone who works for you. I doubt very little is done without your knowledge or permission."

"Why are you telling me all this if I'm your prime suspect?"

"I might have been dirty enough to take a bribe but you made it personal and I've just made it my life's ambition to put you behind bars. I wanted you to know that when you're arrested it'll be because you tried to kill me, not because I want my wife back."

"But you do, don't you?"

"This meeting's over."

As I walked away I could hear Castle yell, "That's never going to happen, Tanner. She's mine now."

* * *

Castle arranged for a meeting at his house with Anthony Robles. He needed to fill in some of the gaps between arranging Robert's payoff and what he'd learned at the skate park. It seemed Robles might have left out some details about the money transfer.

"Robles, tell me again about the payment to Robert Tanner."

"I arranged for one of our truck drivers to deliver the money to him."

"That's all? Nothing else?"

"Sir, I've tried to protect you from anything that might affect you. Sometimes that means only telling you part of what happens. Do you really want to know everything?"

"I met with Tanner. From what he told me, I think I need to hear more."

"When the driver picked up the bag containing the money he was told to wear rubber gloves. The story I gave him was that I didn't want any fingerprints on the bag but the real reason was that I had prepared that bag in a special way. The handles were coated in a mixture of something called DMSO and a very strong pesticide. The DMSO would allow the poison to penetrate the skin of anyone who touched the handles."

"Why'd you do that?"

"To kill him, of course."

"Did I tell you to kill him?"

"No, but you said you'd be much happier if he was dead. I just assumed that was what you wanted."

"What happened next?"

"I was sitting in my car nearby when the payoff was made and I followed him when he got in his car with the bag. About ten minutes later his car lost control. That was probably when the poison took effect. Police and EMS people arrived and he was taken to Mercy hospital. Unfortunately, he survived."

"Damn it, Robles. I know you meant well but you screwed up and now Tanner is looking for the person responsible. You've got to get out of town."

"Won't that look suspicious?"

"Right now, he's concentrating on me and if he asks any questions, I'll play dumb. You're in this mess because you were trying to help. Now it's my turn to try to help you."

"Where would I go?"

"I can hide you on one of my properties along the southern border."

Taking out his cellphone, Castle called American Airlines at Phoenix International Airport.

"When is your next flight to Laredo, Texas? 5:25 p. m.? Thank you."

"Robles, everything is going to be okay. Take whatever you need but get on that flight. You'll be picked up at the airport in Texas by someone named Morgan and when the heat has died down, I'll send word that it's okay to return."

He moved a painting in the room to reveal a wall safe.

"You'll need some money so take this. It's $20,000 plus $500 for the ticket."

"Thank you, sir."

"Go. You don't have much time before that flight."

As he watched Robles drive away, Castle picked up his phone again.

"Morgan, there's a passenger arriving at Laredo International at 11:55 tonight, American Airlines flight 3232. His name is Anthony Robles. That's right, Robles, R O B L E S. I want you to pick him up. This will be a one-way trip. The $20,000 he's carrying should cover it."

Castle ended the call and poured himself a drink, confident that the police would never be able to prove he had anything to do with the poisoning ... unless they dug up half of Texas.

Robles's disappearance didn't go unnoticed and police put out a BOLO after Castle wasn't able to provide any useful information as to his whereabouts. Both Patrick and Robert knew that finding Robles was the key to finding out who was responsible for the attempt on Robert's life.

"Without Robles we're at a dead end," Patrick said.

"What other possible leads do we have?"

"Did you ever see the film, All the President's Men?"

"Isn't that the one about Watergate?"

"That's the one."

"What does that movie have to do with us?"

"There's a famous line in it. Follow the money."

"So we go looking for the bag."

"Exactly."

* * *

Something had changed since her trip to the hospital. Angie no longer felt safe around her husband. It wasn't anything Castle had said or done to her, it was imagining what he was capable of doing if his attitude toward her changed. In the days that followed she tried to hide it but Edward noticed. As Angie prepared dinner one evening, Castle brought up the subject.

"What's wrong, Angie? Lately you haven't been your usual self. You smile less and don't greet me quite as warmly. Have I done something wrong?"

"You haven't done anything wrong. I'm just a little tired."

"When you married me we agreed that we wouldn't keep secrets because that's what ruined your first marriage. Now tell me, what's wrong?"

"Robert's in the hospital. I was notified because I was still listed as an emergency contact. Someone tried to kill him."

"And you think I had something to do with it?"

"I don't know what to think."

"He and I had a deal. I paid him $150,000 to stay out of our lives. Why would I do that and then try to poison him?"

"You're right. It makes no sense. Let's just enjoy dinner."

Angie was pouring wine into her husband's glass when his words finally registered. She tried to remain composed but her hand involuntarily shook. She never mentioned poison.

Noticing his wife's nervousness Edward spoke. "That slip was unfortunate."

"Why did you try to kill him?"

"I may have wanted him dead but I didn't poison him. Robles did."

"We both know he wouldn't do that without some sort of approval from you. Aren't you afraid Robles will say something if he's arrested?"

"He's already been taken care of."

Angie placed a hand over her mouth and looked at her husband in shock. She now saw clearly the man she had married.

With a stare never before directed at his wife, Castle continued. "As much as I love you, I'm not going to prison. Do you understand?"

Angie meekly nodded. The message was clear. Her life depended on her silence.

* * *

Patrick and Robert weren't the only ones interested in that bag of money. Someone had stolen $150,000 from Castle and he wasn't about to let them get away with it. His reputation and ego wouldn't allow it. In addition, it was the last thing that could connect him to the murder attempt. Castle's network of informants had provided him with the names of Brian Shaw and the EMS workers at the scene of Robert's accident. Knowing when that EMS crew was on duty, it was easy to stage an accident where they would be the ones to respond. A frantic 911 call by someone identifying himself as an officer already on the scene described a brutal gang attack of an elderly couple. Three actors and some fake blood was all it took to lure the crew into the trap.

As the crew bent down to treat the "victims" the two actors stood up and drew their guns.

"What the hell?"

"Follow instructions and you might live another day."

"What do you want?"

"Answers. You responded to an accident involving an unconscious man involved in a car accident. What happened to his possessions?"

The three workers looked at each other in confusion. Then one of them spoke.

"I don't know what you're talking about. We just transported the guy to Mercy Hospital."

"If you're lying, we'll make sure your families suffer as much as you do. This is your last chance to say if you took something that didn't belong to you."

The youngest crew member, someone barely twenty-one, in a quivering voice said, "Mister, all we did was move the man, honest."

"Just keep in mind what I said and when you log this event, you're going to report it as a prank call. Understand?"

All three EMS workers shook their heads.

"Now, get out of here."

* * *

The report given to Castle was that the EMS workers practically shit themselves when confronted so if the EMS workers really did have the money they were better actors than the thugs Castle hired. That only left Brian Shaw, but if it was him, Castle would have to make an example of him. Brian Shaw was one of the cops on Castle's payroll, one of the cops he kept in the contact list on his phone.

"Officer Shaw, say yes if you know who this is."

"Yes."

"Describe the events of the car accident you responded to last week. Don't leave anything out. Believe me when I say your life depends on it."

"Yes sir. Last Tuesday I received a call of an accident at the corner of Ferris Avenue and West Fourth Street. I responded and found two cars involved in a collision at the stop light. According to witnesses, one driver lost control and crashed into the back of the car in front of him. The driver of the car that caused the crash was slumped over the wheel of his car and I had to smash the driver's side window to get him out. Three EMS workers took him to a hospital and I arranged for a flatbed truck to remove his damaged car from the scene. It was taken to the police impound yard. That's the whole story."

"Think carefully. Was anything removed from the car?"

"No sir."

"Then I have a task for you. Take a kitchen trash bag to the impound yard and find that car. Somewhere inside the car there should be a small piece of luggage. Wear gloves so that your fingerprints are not on it when you pick it up. Put it in the trash bag and bring it to me. Once it's in the bag you can take your gloves off. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Complete this task and there will be a $2000 bonus for you."

An hour later a patrol car arrived at the Castle residence and Brian Shaw handed a white garbage bag to Castle.

"Where was it?"

"I found it wedged under the dashboard, partially hidden by the twisted metal of the car. It must have been on the front passenger seat when the accident occurred and the impact catapulted it forward."

"I promised you a bonus. You'll find a banded pack of twenty-dollar bills on the table over there. You earned it."

"Thank you, sir."

* * *

Brian Shawn's body was discovered slumped over his steering wheel, killed by a poison similar to that used on Robert but this time there was no doubt what caused it, a pack of twenty-dollar bills found in his coat pocket. Entering the facts of his death into the computer system at the Paradise Valley Police Department headquarters triggered a message to contact Patrick Jamison of the Department of Defense.

"Mr. Jamison, this is Sheriff Harris of the Paradise Valley PD. We were instructed to contact you."

"What happened?"

"A police officer was poisoned."

"Brian Shaw?"

"Yes, but how did you know that?"

"Wait a second while I check something."

After a short pause, Patrick was on the line again.

"How quickly can you get a search warrant?"

"If you can provide just cause, Judge Parker will issue one today."

"I'll be there in two hours."

* * *

As Sheriff Harris left the judge's chambers he asked Patrick, "You're sure about this?"

"On a scale of one to ten, I give this a solid eight."

"Okay, let's go serve this search warrant."

"Make sure everyone wears rubber gloves. If I'm right we don't want a third person getting poisoned."

Two patrol cars pulled up to the entrance to Castle's home, Harris and Jamison in one and two additional officers in the other. At the entrance to the house, Sheriff Harris started banging loudly.

Castle opened the door.

"Sheriff, why all the banging?"

"I have a warrant to search the house and all of your property. Are you alone?"

"No. My wife is upstairs."

"Please call her."

"Angie, would you come to the front door?"

Seeing the police, Angie was confused. "Hello, Sheriff. Is there a problem in the neighborhood?"

"I have a warrant to search the house and all of its grounds. Please stand next to your husband while we conduct the search."

Under other circumstances Castle would contact his lawyer but currently that wasn't possible.

"What are you looking for?"

No one answered. Patrick just kept waving a scanning device as he and the officers walked through the house. After a half hour with no luck in locating what they were looking for, Patrick was considering what to do next. It would take more than the four of them to investigate any recently tilled land where the bag with the tracking device he had added might have been buried. Disappointed, he was about to ask the Sheriff to bring more officers to aid in the search when he had an idea. Turning to Castle, he asked "Where's your safe?"

"My safe?"

"Yeah, anyone who lives in a place this expensive must have a safe."

"It's in the walk-in closet in the master bedroom."

"And where's the other one?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You see, there's a guy I know, Manny Alvarez. Nice guy with a beautiful wife and two beautiful daughters. Been married almost twenty-five years now. The problem is that they live in a dangerous neighborhood. You know the type, too many crooks and no cops around when you need them."

"Get to the damn point!"

"I'm getting to it. Anyway, he's been robbed a few times so now he makes it a habit of carrying two wallets, one to surrender if it happens again and one with all the important stuff."

Castle looked nervous as he said, "I only have one."

"Sheriff, how long would it take to get a metal detector here?"

"Less than an hour, why?"

"To locate his second safe."

"That won't be necessary. It's behind the oil painting of my wife."

"Open it and back away."

Castle did as he was told and then stood next to Angie before whispering, "I told you I was never going to prison."

With that, he reached behind him and pulled out a gun that had been tucked into his pants under his sport jacket. Shots rang out and Castle lay in a pool of blood as Angie started screaming.

Sheriff Harris told one of the officers to take Angie outside while they checked the safe. Inside was the laptop bag and a bottle of DMSO. Castle obviously hadn't had time to get rid of them.

"What made you think of a safe?" the sheriff asked.

"At the judge's office I told you that I found the bag and hid a tracking device in it but the signal was no longer coming from the car. In fact, I wasn't getting a signal at all. I thought Castle might have found the tracking device or buried the bag but then I thought about a safe. It's walls would also prevent the signal from being received."

"I guess the case is over now."

"All except the part I hate the most, the damn paperwork."

* * *

Patrick needed to do one more thing before returning to his office."

"Hey, Robert, how're you doing?"

"Okay, I guess. Surveillance can get boring."

"I think you can expect some excitement pretty soon."

Why's that?"

"I have a feeling there's going to be a turf war."

"Why? What's changed?"

"Castle's dead."

"Dead? How?"

"Where can we meet for a drink? I'll tell you everything."

"Do you know the steakhouse in Tucson called The Cork?"

"Yes."

"Make reservations for 6:30."

The Cork was a place I had to clean up for. After a week of wearing clothes that Walmart would be ashamed to sell, I got a chance to wear the one outfit I had that made me feel good; a sport jacket, slacks, black shirt and loafers, no socks or tie.

As I sat at the bar, I kept scanning the door for Patrick, barely touching my drink. All I could think about was Castle's death ... and Angie.

When he finally arrived, he motioned to me and a waitress seated us at a table.

"Order whatever you want, Patrick. My treat. This is a day I want to celebrate."

"You sure about that? I could probably figure out a way to write it off as a business expense."

"I'm sure. And after we've ordered I want to hear every detail."

Looking at the menu Patrick said, "I'm going to start with something I've never tried before, the bison, venison and kangaroo appetizer."

"I'm not ready to be that adventurous. I'm going to stick with the prime rib."

The one thing we did agree on was ordering bourbon with our meals.

As we waited for our meals, Patrick began the story.

"On a hunch, after the cop and EMS workers tested negative for the poison I went to the police impound yard and checked the car for the bag. Finding it, I considered what to do. I could have removed it but I had a different idea. I decided to set a trap. I placed a GPS tracker inside one of the pockets of the bag I thought no one would check."

"And you just happened to have a GPS tracker with you?"

"That took a bit of improvising and a pocket knife. I have a GPS tracker sewn into my laptop case. It's the size of a credit card. I know it was a risk leaving all that money in the car but I felt reasonably sure the only person who would take it was the person who poisoned you. I told the police that the car was not to be touched since it was part of an active investigation."

"And Castle took the bait."

"Not exactly. I got a report of a second poisoning, but this time the person died. It was Brian Shaw, the officer who pulled you from your car when you had your accident."

"I'm confused."

"I can't be sure about this part but I think he was the one who removed the bag from your car and took it to Castle. He was found dead in his car with $2000 that had been coated in the same way as the bag had been.

Our food started to arrive and we ate while Patrick continued the story.

"I checked the tracker and found out that the bag was no longer in the car. I drove to Paradise Valley and got a search warrant. Accompanied by the police I confronted Castle in his house. After the bag was discovered, he decided to shoot it out and he was killed."

"I wish I could have been there when you took him down."

"I told you that you couldn't be involved in his arrest."

After a short pause, I asked, "How is Angie taking all this?"

"Frankly, I think Angie could use a friend right now. Call her."

"I wouldn't know what to say."

"Tell me honestly, how do you see your life In twenty years, alone with maybe a pet, living a lie with someone else like you did with Angie? This life isn't for everyone. It's for loners, not people who have a chance for happiness with a person who loves them."

"But ..."

"There are no buts. She needs you. My guess is that Angie is unaware of the illegal nature of her husband's company. My boss would hate me for saying this but I'm telling you to walk away from this life and help her because Consolidated Trucking, with all of its legal problems, is her company now."

The truth of that statement hit hard. "How much time do I have to make a decision?"

"I wouldn't wait too long. I'm sure Castle's business partners and competitors have already heard of his death and are considering some sort of action."

"What about my current assignment?"

"As of now you're on a two-week leave due to emotional stress related to this case."

"Thank you."

* * *

I didn't call Angie. I still hadn't found the right words. What I did was to book a room at the local DoubleTree and wait for Castle's obituary to appear in the newspaper. It seemed important to be at the funeral, supporting her in spirit even though I wasn't going to make my presence known.

The newspaper reported that the services and burial were to be held at the same location in Scottsdale. Both were attended by many people I knew, people more comfortable holding a gun than a hymnal, all there in an obvious attempt to get the inside track on "helping Angie manage the business."

It had been a long time since I'd worn a black suit but I wanted to blend in as much as possible, sitting in the back as the services took place and later standing at a reasonable distance as Castle was lowered into the ground. I thought I'd been careful but obviously not careful enough. Later that night my phone rang.

"Why didn't you talk to me?"

"Angie?"

"I saw you at the funeral today but you never said a word."

"I wasn't even sure I'd be welcome."

"You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, I should be apologizing to you."

"After all the mistakes I've made, let's call it even. By the way, how did you get my phone number?"

"It was in the list of contacts on Edward's phone."

"To make up for today, would it be okay if I dropped by?"

"I'd like that."

"Would tomorrow be too soon?"

"Be here for lunch and I'll make corned beef sandwiches. You still like them, don't you?"

"Rye bread and deli mustard?"

"Of course."

"You sure know how to sweet-talk a guy. Do you need me to bring anything?"

"No but I might need a hug or two to convince me everything's going to be okay."

"I can do that and Angie?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you called."

* * *

Angie greeted me at the door with one of those hugs she said she needed, a hug both of us were reluctant to break. Reaching down to hold my hand, she started walking.

"Let's sit on the back deck. It's my favorite spot to relax. Would you like something to drink?"

"Water will be fine."

"Tap, sparkling or distilled?"

"Tap."

I walked with Angie into a kitchen that looked straight out of Architectural Digest. Stainless steel appliances, marble countertops and mahogany cabinets filled a room almost as big as the apartment we used to live in.

Seeing me staring, Angie said, "Impressive, isn't it? Edward bought only the best. I'm actually thinking of selling this place. It was never our house. Everything you see, he picked out. If I'm being honest, I was just another piece of furniture he filled it with."

"Angie ..."

"No, don't stop me. I need to say this. I was never really happy here. I should have left a long time ago. And now, everything is so overwhelming. He's dead and I'm in charge of a business I know nothing about."

Angie started to cry and I reached over to hold her close.

"Don't cry, baby. I'm here. Everything's going to be okay. I promise."

That's when I kissed her and there were no longer any doubts about what I wanted my life to look like in twenty years.

When Angie opened her eyes I could see she felt it too.

As she started unbuttoning her blouse, she said, "Don't say anything. I need this. I need to be reminded what I've been missing for the last five years."

What started in the kitchen ended in the bedroom as each of us expressed the love we thought we'd lost.

Lying in bed afterward, I was the first to speak. "I'm quitting my job."

"Quitting?"

"I saw what life was like without you and I didn't like it."

"No more secrets?"

"No more secrets. Well, maybe one but it'll be one we share. Except for the people I work for, everyone knows me as Michael Drake. Can you live with that?"

"How much energy do you have left ... Michael?"

The next two days were spent making up for lost time and while I would have liked to live in that fantasy world forever, I knew there was work to do. While Angie was setting the dinner table, I decided to reveal who I really was."

"Angie, please sit down. It's time you learned the truth."

Unsure of what I was about to tell her, Angie had a worried look as she joined me at the table.

Taking a deep breath, I continued. "I'm an undercover federal agent working for the US Department of Defense. That's why I couldn't tell you what I did when I was away."

Seeing confusion and disbelief in Angie's eyes, I handed her my wallet with my ID card in it.

"I really was trying to protect you but I couldn't say anything even when it cost me my marriage."

"And Edward?" Angie asked.

"Your husband owns property on the Mexican border and he was using his trucking company to smuggle illegal aliens across it, sometimes even engaging in sex trafficking. The money he paid me was a bribe to make sure I didn't interfere although I'll never know why he tried to kill me. Maybe he thought I wouldn't honor our agreement. Maybe he thought I'd come back asking for more. The reason isn't important. What is important is that I was never actually taking the bribe. My superiors were aware of what was happening and the government was trying to build a case to take down his whole operation."

Angie abruptly got up from the table and started pacing the floor, trying to wrap her head around all of this information.

"Oh my God! You're saying that I now own a human smuggling and sex trafficking operation?"

"I'm afraid so and my guess is that some of your new business partners and competitors were at your husband's funeral."

"You have to believe me. I never knew."

"I'll do what I can to untangle you from this mess but I'm going to need your help."

"What do you want me to do?"

"You reached me by finding my information on your husband's phone. I want you to get a pad and copy down the information of everyone in his contact list."

"Anything else?"

"Did Edward ever work at home?"

"Yes. He converted one of the bedrooms into an office."

"Show me."

The room was filled with file cabinets and a massive wooden desk but what caught my attention was the desktop computer on it.

"Is this the only computer in the house?"

"Yes. We both used it."

"Your husband never used something else, a laptop or a tablet?"

"I never saw one."

"Would you log on, please?"

When the main screen opened, many programs and folders appeared.

"Which of the folders were created by your husband?"

As Angie scanned the screen a puzzled look appeared on her face.

"None of them. These are all my folders."

"That leaves two possibilities. There might be invisible folders but more likely he kept his files on a flash drive."

"Invisible folders?"

"Some computers are capable of creating them. It's a level of security but not a great one."

It didn't take long to confirm the absence of hidden folders or files. That left only the possibility that a flash drive existed, one that he didn't even trust to be kept in the safe with the bag and poison and the information on it had to be extremely sensitive.

"What are in the file cabinets?"

"I don't know. Those belonged to Edward."

Walking over to them I discovered they contained bank statements and documents related to his company.

"It's too late for me to look through all these papers now but in the morning I'll start writing down the names of the companies mentioned. The cabinets weren't locked which leads me to believe we won't find much but it'll give us a place to start. While I make a quick phone call I want you get Edward's phone and start making a copy of that contact list."

* * *

"Patrick, I've made my decision. I'm handing in my resignation."

"I'm happy for you."

"Can I call you if the need arises?"

"That depends. If you need publicly available information the answer is yes but that's all. As long as Angie controls Castle's business, she's on the wrong side of the law."

"Understood."

"What do you need?"

"For starters, can you find out how many shares of Consolidated Trucking she owns?"

"I can tell you that right now. Castle was the President and majority stockholder of the company. He held 120,000 shares which represents 60% of the shares issued. Anything else?"

"Did you ever put together that list of Castle's properties I once asked you for?"

"I actually completed it just before your car accident but in all the excitement I forgot to give it to you. He owns eight properties, five in Arizona and three in Texas. The total value of the properties including any houses on them is about 2.3 million."

"Is that land owned by the trucking company or Castle personally?"

"The records list them as owned by the company."

"Thanks, Patrick. I owe you one."

* * *

It was 11 p. m. that Edward's list of contacts was finally transcribed. It was four pages long and included the names of judges, politicians and police officers as well as my own.

"Angie, this is some list."

"I agree. There are some very prominent people on it."

"Once you're no longer connected to your husband's business, I'd like to pass this information along to my government friends but I won't do it without your permission."

"If you can get me out of this mess, you have my blessing to do whatever you want with any information you find."

"I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be very busy. We better get some sleep tonight."

"Not even a quickie?"

"That word is not in your vocabulary and you know it. Now give me a kiss to last me until I see you again."

One thing I learned from my marriage is that when Angie wants something, she can be very persistent. The kiss that Angie gave me might have caused a priest to reconsider his vows.

"That was definitely not a goodbye kiss."

"You can't blame me for trying to change your mind, can you?"

"I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

The alarm clock on the nightstand by the bed said it was 3:27 a. m. when I woke up. The whole situation was suddenly very clear. If I could separate Angie from Consolidated Trucking her legal troubles would disappear. With that in mind, I turned the light on and opened up my laptop. The website of Consolidated Trucking stated the names of its officers which included Edward Castle, eight board members, a phone number and an address in Phoenix. Morning couldn't come fast enough.

At 8:30 a. m. I contacted Angie.

"Robert, why are you calling so early?"

"It's Michael, remember? But don't worry, if you ever slip up in public just tell everyone you sometimes use my middle name. Anyway, today we are going to set the wheels in motion to get you out of harm's way. I'll tell you my plan when I see you but until then I want you to ask yourself two questions. How much money do you need to be happy and is there an object in the house that Edward prized so much that you were never allowed to touch it? I should be at your house in twenty minutes. Bye."

* * *

Angie was waiting at the front door when I arrived. I ran up to her and kissed her before dragging her inside.

"What's gotten into you Michael?"

"Now I know how Archimedes felt."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's a story about a famous Greek named Archimedes. One day as he was taking a bath he got a great idea. He was so happy that he rushed out of the house to tell somebody, disregarding the fact that he was completely naked."

"If you're that happy, then I'm really interested in this plan you have."

"Before I tell it to you, did you think about the two questions I asked?"

"I couldn't come up with a number."

"Because it was too big?"

"Because I've learned that money has little to do with happiness."

"Then I'll ask it a different way. How much money would it take for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life and do everything on your bucket list?

"I don't know. Maybe two million?"

"Now, what about that second question?"

"There's only one thing I can think of."

"What is it?"

"Edward was a huge baseball fan. He bought a few signed pieces but the one he prized above all others was a baseball signed by Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig."

"Where is it?"

"It's on display in the man cave he created in the basement along with his other baseball stuff."

"Can I see it?"

"I'll just need to get the key to the cabinet. It's on the ring with his house keys."

The basement was what many men dream of when they think of a man cave. It had a 75" TV, leather recliners, a billiard table, a bar, signs related to cars and gasoline and a display case filled with baseball memorabilia. Prominently displayed in a box on a pedestal was the baseball Angie talked about.

"I can understand why he'd keep it locked away. Authenticated baseballs like this might sell for $100,000. Would you take it out of the case so I can get a closer look at it?"

"Sure."

Angie unlocked the case and handed me the box. Investigating the object yielded nothing special but the same couldn't be said of the pedestal it sat on. When I picked it up I discovered it was hollow as a flash drive fell out.

"Is that what I think it is?" Angie asked.

"I'll bet my salary on it. Put the pedestal and baseball back in the case. One day though, you might want to have someone check if the ball is real. Let's take this flash drive upstairs and plug it into the computer."

This time more than just Angie's files appeared on the screen. Opening the flash drive yielded dozens of folders and hundreds of files. It only took looking at one file to verify that that this little object could bring down the entire operation.

"What do we do now?" Angie asked.

"First we make sure that you're safe from prosecution. Then, we send this drive and Edward's phone to my contact in the government. After that, we just sit back and watch all the bad guys get sent to prison."

"Sounds easy when you say it like that."

"Do you want to take a break before we begin?"

"No. I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"The first thing you're going to do is call the main office of Consolidated Trucking and set up a meeting with the board members. The office is in Phoenix."

"You'll be with me at that meeting, right?"

"As your trusted assistant. But I need you to project strength in the boardroom. Can you do that?"

"I think so."

"Try again and make it sound convincing."

"I can do it."

"We're going to have to work on that. Now, do you own a power suit?"

"You mean like a comic book superhero?"

I tried not to laugh. "No I mean an expensive outfit that commands respect. Not an expensive gown, something more businesslike."

"Not really."

Then, before we make that phone call, we're going shopping. What's the most expensive shop near here?"

"Neiman Marcus."

"Then that's where we're going."

"Are you crazy?"

"For five years I've saved my money, never having a reason until now to spend it, so here's what's going to happen. We're going to Neiman Marcus. I'm going to do all the talking and your only job is to pay close attention to the way I act. Got it?"

"Got it."

In my years of working for the government I've learned a few things. Confidence and money or at least the appearance of it earns respect. Confidently walking up to one of the employees at Neiman Marcus I asked to speak to the person in charge of the women's wear section.

"Can I help you?" the head of the department said with a tone that seemed dismissive.

"My wife needs an outfit for a board meeting. Do you have something suitable?"

"That depends. What is your budget?"

In a very authoritative tone I replied, "I asked if you had something suitable not what it costs."

Understanding my meaning, her attitude changed slightly but she still tried to maintain control of the situation. "I'm sure we can find something acceptable."

"The outfit will include a pair of shoes and a hat."

Skeptical but not as arrogant as before she asked "And how will you be paying for this?"

I think both she and Angie nearly had a heart attack when I pulled out a stack of hundred-dollar bills from my jacket and replied "Cash."

The bill came to $6,497.53 but it was worth every penny. If Angie ever walked into that department again, her reception would be quite different. Angie carefully laid the bag containing the suit across the back seat of my car after I put the other bags in the trunk.

"Holy shit Michael, I've never owned a suit this expensive."

"We're not finished."

"We're not?"

"Once the meeting is confirmed you're going to Bella Donna Salon and Spa in Scottsdale for the full treatment - hair, manicure, pedicure, facial, the works. You saw how I dealt with that snob at Neiman Marcus. I want you to have the same take no prisoners attitude I did when you walk into that boardroom. I'll tell you what to say but you have to deliver the words with conviction. I know it's not your normal personality but considering who we're dealing with, I need you to be a badass bitch."

"You really think I can do this?"

"Any time you begin to feel that you can't, think of what will happen to you if you're sent to prison."

I paused for a few seconds to let that thought sink in.

"When we get back to your house, you'll make the call. I have your script all prepared and I'll be sitting right beside you to help if any problems arise. Just remember to put the call on speaker so I can hear both parts of the conversation."

* * *

"Consolidated Trucking, how may I direct your call?"

"This is Mrs. Edward Castle. Are any of the board members available?"

"Hold on Mrs. Castle. I'll check."

"Mr. Daniels, Mrs. Castle is on line two."

"Put her through."

"Mrs. Castle, I'm connecting you to Mr. Daniels. Please hold."

"Angie, I'm sorry that I was unable to attend Edward's funeral. Please accept my condolences. How may I help you?"

"I want an emergency board meeting scheduled for this week."

"I don't think that will be possible."

"Make it possible or I'll sell all of Edward's stock to someone who might not be as open-minded about the company's activities on the border. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Mrs. Castle. Would Friday at 11:00 a. m. be acceptable? I think that will be enough time to ensure everyone can attend."

"There better be a quorum on Friday or the company will have a new majority stock holder Monday morning."

"Yes, Mrs. Castle."

As Angie ended the call she turned to me. "How'd I do?"

"Couldn't you tell? Daniels went from I don't think it's possible to Yes, Mrs. Castle once you asserted yourself. Now let's schedule your salon appointment for Thursday. I'm going to put the phone on speaker again."

"Bella Donna Salon and Spa. How can I help you?"

"I'd like to schedule the full spa treatment for my wife. You know, hair, nails, facial, everything. It's our anniversary and I want her to have the best."

"Well, let me be the first to wish you a happy anniversary. What number is it?"

"It will be our tenth."

"Well, this will help make it very special. What day can she come in?"

"Our anniversary is Thursday."

"Let me check our calendar. Oh, I'm so sorry. Thursday is all booked. Perhaps we can schedule it Friday."

"Just out of curiosity, how much would the full spa experience cost?"

"I can't give you an exact amount because I don't know the condition of her hair or what she wants but it might cost $500."

"So, you can't reschedule someone else if I paid, let's say, $1000?"

"Hold on a minute."

Elevator music played as the person I was speaking to obviously was consulting with her boss.

Angie had to control herself as the girl said "We'll expect your wife at 10: a. m. on Thursday. What's her name?"

"Angie Castle."

"We look forward to seeing her. Once again, happy anniversary Mr. Castle."

"Thank you."

As I ended the call, Angie punched me in the shoulder.

"What was that for?"

"You're bad. You're really bad."

"I'm just showing you what a little money and a lot of confidence can do. Think about what you could do with two-million dollars."

"When will I see your script for the board meeting?"

"Tomorrow, but it won't be an actual script. It's not like a phone call. It'll be more like talking points to use during the meeting. Is there a dvd player hooked up to the TV in the basement?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"I brought a movie I'd like you to watch."

"Pornographic, I hope."

"Maybe next time. Right now I need you to stay focused on Friday."

"What movie did you bring?"

"It's called The Devil Wears Prada."

As the credits rolled at the end of the movie, Angie turned to me.

"Meryl Streep was a real, controlling bitch. That's what you want?"

"To survive this mess, that's exactly who you have to become."

"Then that's exactly the look I'm going to ask for at the salon. It'll help me get in character."

"We'll print out a picture of the character she played in the movie and you can take to the salon."

On Thursday I drove Angie to the salon but picked up someone I barely recognized. She was the spitting image of Meryl Streep in that movie, same hair color, same hair style, even the same sunglasses that she wore. She even seemed to walk with more confidence. As she got into the car I asked, "How do you feel?"

"Like a totally different person."

"In what way?"

"More in control, as if I really am Meryl Streep in that movie."

"That's good because the board members are going to do their best to make you feel small, incapable of running the company as well as they can."

"Then they have a surprise coming because right now I feel like I could take on the world."

"I'll be there as your personal assistant to provide information if needed but you have to remember to treat me as a subordinate not an equal."

"Understood."

To make a grand entrance, Angie arrived ten minutes late to the meeting. The secretary, startled by Angie's new appearance didn't recognize her at first.

"Are all the board members inside?"

"Only six, Mrs. Castle. Mr. Sanchez and Mr. Costa are out of town."

The secretary got out of her seat to open the door to the boardroom.

Without a smile Angie walked into the room and addressed the men there.

"Gentlemen. I'm pleased to see you were able to attend on such short notice."

Mr. Daniels pulled out a chair at the large table for her to sit and Angie reacted immediately.

"Is that where my husband usually sat?"

"No, Mrs. Castle."

Mr. Nichols hurriedly got up from his seat at the head of the table and took a different chair.

Angie walked to where Nichols had been but didn't sit down. I walked with her but stood closer to the front wall. Grasping the top of the large office chair she addressed the group.

"I want to make sure everyone knows the purpose of this meeting."

Mr. Nichols interrupted. Pointing to me he asked "Who's he?"

"My personal assistant. He's here to provide any information that I might not have at my fingertips."

"This meeting is for board members only."

Staring directly at Nichols Angie replied, "This is my company now. If I say he stays, he stays."

"You don't understand. This business is complicated and in these meetings we discuss things that have to remain private." After a slight pause Mr. Nichols continued, "Mrs. Castle, go home and let us do our job. We're good at it."

I could see Angie's fingers tighten on the chair as she reacted to the implications of that remark.

"Look at me. I mean really look at me. Do I look like the same clueless trophy wife you saw at company functions? After Edward's death I no longer have to hide my true self. You want to continue business as usual, fine. You want to deal in human lives, that's your choice. But to do that, you're going to have to buy me out because if you don't, next week another majority stockholder will be sitting in this chair and I guarantee your human trafficking operation will come to an end."

"You're bluffing."

Staring straight at Nichols, Angie replied, "Then call my bluff."

A silence hung over the room as the other board members watched the scene. It was then that Nichols' true personality showed itself.

"Wearing a pair of pants doesn't make you a man and no dyke is going to tell me what to do."

"This meeting is over! Enjoy your weekend gentlemen because your world changes in three days."

Angie motioned for me to follow her as she walked to the door.

"Wait!" Mr. Daniels yelled.

Angie turned around and Daniels continued. "There are six of us here. All it takes is five votes to agree to your proposal. How much would it cost to buy you out?"

"I currently hold sixty percent of the shares in the company, that's 120,000 shares."

She turned to me and asked, "Michael, what is today's price of a share?"

"$42.18"

"And what would be the total value of my shares?"

"$5,061,600"

"Let's call it an even five million. That's my price, paid by the end of business today."

"You can't be serious. It's impossible to get that much cash on such short notice."

"Those are my terms. I'll wait outside while you discuss it amongst yourselves."

Even outside the boardroom we could hear the shouting inside. The threat of a new owner not only stopping their operation but reporting past crimes swayed the vote. None of them wanted to go to prison. Daniels opened the door and asked us to return.

"We'll agree to buy you out but the most we can raise today is three million. Will you accept that with the balance to be paid within thirty days?"

"Have the legal department type up the agreement and all board members present sign it. I'm going to lunch. When the document is ready for my signature text me. I'll contact my bank to expect the transfer of the money by 5:00 p. m."

"Yes, Mrs. Castle."

Once in the elevator, Angie grabbed me and gave me a kiss that lasted until the doors started to open in the lobby.

"Five million dollars. I can't believe it."

"You were magnificent in there."

"It was all your preparation. I knew what to expect and I was ready."

"How would you like to celebrate?"

"Besides ripping your clothes off right now?"

"I'm afraid that'll have to wait. We still have to go back when the documents are ready."

"I'm too excited to eat. Maybe a cup of coffee?"

"You might be overdressed for Dunkin' Donuts."

Angie laughed, realizing how crazy it would be to walk into a Dunkin' Donuts shop in a $6,000 outfit.

"Where would you suggest?"

"The documents probably won't be ready for a couple of hours. Why don't we wait at your house? It's only a half-hour drive."

It was ninety minutes later that Angie received a text that the documents were ready for her signature and at exactly 4:36 p. m. Angie's bank account was three million dollars richer.

"I still can't believe that I'm a millionaire. What do we do now, just send the phone and flash drive to your friend?"

"No. We wait until after the final two million is transferred. I don't want anything to interfere with that last payment."

"So we just sit around and wait for thirty days?"

"Unless you have a better idea."

"Oh, I have plenty of ideas. Just give me a minute to get out of this outfit."