Page 11 of Cross Keys


  * * *

  Seth Lormarc hadn’t seen the morning news or read the paper. He’d spent the first two hours of his day sorting out a mix-up on a shipment to Hong Kong. He leaned back in his desk chair, cradling a cup of hot coffee. This was the first chance he’d had to sit down.

  Consequently, he frowned when his door opened and Rhyden strolled in, a smirk on his face. Damn. His cousin was about to say something provocative. Seth took a deep breath and waited for the axe to fall.

  “Morning, Seth. I trust you had your usual busy weekend, working most likely. While I was thoroughly entertained at home. Mariel threw her first coed party Saturday night, and it was quite exciting.”

  “Not exactly news. Your entire branch of the family likes to party.”

  “Yes, we do.” Rhyden grinned at him. “But the Ryndels don’t always attend.” He paused, as if waiting for Seth to follow-up. “Don’t you want to know what happened?”

  “Not particularly, but I suppose you’re going to tell me anyway, so out with it.”

  “Your girlfriend came.”

  Seth scowled at him. “My what? You’re mistaken. Jill and I were at a jazz festival.”

  “Not the human woman you’ve been dallying with. I was referring to the lovely Kameo Ryndel, and she brought her sister. The younger girl is growing into quite a looker. She’ll give her sister some competition in the next few years.”

  “They came unescorted?” Seth’s scowl deepened. The Ryndel woman was unpredictable, but such behavior would be a serious social blunder in elven society.

  “Of course not. Caleb brought them. He clearly wanted time alone with Kameo, so I tried to occupy the lovely Estelle by dancing with her.” His grin broadened. “That’s when it got exciting. Some young Ryndel cub took exception to my good intentions and took a swing at me.”

  “You were brawling at a party?” Seth chuckled and shook his head. “I thought you had better manners.”

  “I didn’t start it,” Rhyden protested. “It didn’t last long, but unfortunately it did cause the sisters to leave.” He pulled up a chair and sat down, eyeing his cousin. “I mentioned your name to the older sister.”

  “Whatever for?” His cool gaze met Rhyden’s. “What did she say?”

  His cousin laughed. “I knew you’d want to know. You’ve brought up her name a few too many times lately. But she downplayed your acquaintance, simply saying you’d met. I got the impression she didn’t want Caleb to know. Now, why would that be?”

  “She’s probably reluctant to discuss anything that involves her mission for the king.” He shifted and looked away. “If she were my future wife, I’m not sure I’d want her engaged in such dangerous business.”

  Rhyden pursed his lips. “Very old-fashioned of you, Seth. I got the distinct impression the lady could take care of herself.”

  “I’m quite sure you’re right.” Seth pictured her leaping onto the roof and remembered the weapons he’d felt on her body. “But I wouldn’t want her in a position where her skills were tested.”

  “Now the younger one. She’ll need looking after to keep her out of trouble.” Rhyden got to his feet. “If you have your heart set on having a Ryndel woman, you might consider the more approachable Estelle. On second thought, I might give you some competition.”

  Seth shooed him away. “Get out of here. You can have them both. I have way too much to do to continue this insane conversation. If our guild master is waiting, would you send him in on your way out?”

  “Certainly. Oh, I noticed Kameo wasn’t wearing Caleb’s guild scarf. Perhaps you have a chance with her yet.”

  “Don’t bet on it,” Seth muttered under his breath.

  The door had barely closed when it opened again, and the guild master entered. “We had a terrible incident near the Guild last night, and now the police are nosing around. They’re asking all kinds of dangerous questions.” Olseon’s voice was shaking. “We’re going to be discovered. Someone will talk under interrogation.”

  “Please sit down, and calm yourself.” Seth hit the office intercom and spoke to his secretary. “Rhyden just left here. Can you ask him to come back? We have a problem.”

  * * *

  Kam stood with one hand propped on her hip. She’d found the general area where the abduction occurred and divided it in half, searching behind several warehouse buildings along the restricted fencing. She’d even hopped over the flood wall and checked along the train cars and the first rows of containers behind them. She’d found nothing of interest. She turned around to search the other direction, but wasn’t sure it was worth the effort.

  Dock traffic streamed heavily in and out of the nearby gate, but not so busy that Kam missed the black car that stopped on the street. Noah Crain got out and stood watching her. When he didn’t approach, she finally walked toward him.

  “We meet again,” he remarked as she drew near.

  Seen in the light of day, the agent was older than she’d thought. Maybe forty-five, showing a little gray, but she had reason to know he was still fast on his feet. He hadn’t submitted easily when Seth took him down.

  “Look, Agent Crain, or whoever you are, I don’t like being spied on. Is there something you want from me?”

  “Answers.”

  She sighed heavily. “About what?”

  “Where do I start? The location of the firearms, the names of the conspirators, what you and Lormarc were doing at the warehouse, why the police didn’t find bullets in their tires.”

  She frowned. “I was there because it’s my job to protect the Guild next door. Our manager called when he saw lights in what was supposed to be an empty building. So I went to check it out.”

  “Is that the Ryndel Guild?”

  “Yes, it’s a family business.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why would a family member be working security?”

  “Why not? We believe in earning our way up the ranks. I’ve had the appropriate training, so it seemed a natural fit.”

  “Where did you get this training?”

  She looked him in the eye. “Where did you get yours? Why are you asking? You already know who I am.”

  “A name only, not much more. Your background is oddly vague, even with the resources of my agency. As is Lormarc’s. What agency are you and he working for? FBI, DEA, ATF?”

  She cut off a laugh. “I don’t work for your government.” She responded automatically before she considered where that might lead him.

  His jaw tightened aggressively. “Then what government?”

  Wouldn’t he be shocked if she told him? She’d have to tread carefully with this man; his steady eyes watched her like a predator closing for the kill. “None. I have told you twice that I work for the Guild. I received my training from private instructors. There is no mystery about me, Agent Crain.”

  “And Lormarc? He looked special forces to me.”

  She shrugged. Seth would have to fight his own battles. “You’d really have to ask him. I just met him recently.”

  “You don’t say.” He eyed her. “That explains why you didn’t know much about one another.” Crain rubbed his chin thoughtfully and seemed to relax. “So what brought you down here today?”

  “To this particular spot? The news story about the kidnapping.” She waved a hand behind her. “I think this is where the homeless man was taken. And you?”

  “I’m around this area now and then, but I noticed the same story.” As he talked with her, his eyes never rested, scanning the area around them. Hyper-vigilance must be a necessary part of his covert life.

  “You think there’s some link with the arms deals?” she asked.

  His eyes swung to her. “Is that what you think? Linked in what way?”

  Kam shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a thought. You’re good at evading questions, but maybe that’s because you don’t know any more than I do.” Her look challenged him to deny it, but his expression remained carefully neutral. She finally went on. “I’ve been thinking a
bout the raid and the risk that could have presented to our guild workers. I’d like to help you remove the weapons dealers from the area, but I need an idea of what to look for. How did you know they were using the warehouse?”

  He hesitated. “We followed a container shipment from Singapore. It came to the warehouse, was loaded into a small truck, and then we lost the trail. Two weeks later a second shipment came in overland by semi. The transfer truck slipped away again. They seemed very familiar with the wharf district. In fact, they disappeared so quickly that we suspected the truck had driven inside your warehouse to hide. But the second night the truck was seen a good half mile away before it slipped our tail.”

  “So why have you kept our guild under surveillance?”

  It was his turn to shrug.

  She stifled her impatience. “I don’t understand why you think the truck is hidden on the docks. They know you’re after them. Wouldn’t they get out of here as quickly as possible?”

  “Local police set up check points at the gates during the last two exchanges. The truck didn’t leave. At least not that night.”

  “If they’re inside a warehouse—”

  “Or the truck could be camouflaged.”

  “OK. Either way, why don’t you just close the gates and search the buildings?”

  “Easier said than done.” A tight smile touched his thin lips. “It’s a big area with a lot of traffic we’d be disrupting. Besides, they don’t let us go anywhere we want without search warrants…no matter what you see on television.”

  Kam frowned. She didn’t understand the comment about television. She didn’t watch much. “Um, fine. We’re keeping a watch on the warehouse next door, and they haven’t come back.”

  Crain pulled a business card out of his pocket. “I’d appreciate a call if you see or hear anything.”

  Kam suppressed a laugh. So now she’d earned a card, huh? She looked at it. Real estate agent. Bogus background, but he’d told Seth the phone number was good. She stuck it in her pocket. It might come in handy, if and when the time was right. After any elves were safely out of the picture.

  She watched the agent drive away. Where did spies go when they weren’t spying? Or maybe they never stopped. She turned away, walking toward the rear of the buildings and along the fence line on the right of her search area. Several days ago she’d seen people living in the refrigerator-size boxes between the fence and the larger of two storage sheds. Since the homeless residents often made the rounds of shelters and other friendly establishments during the morning, she’d been watching for someone to return. A man had just disappeared in that direction while she was talking to Crain.

  The boxes didn’t look like much, but they provided some protection from the weather. While searching for the missing elves, she’d learned the storage manager periodically handed out new boxes and turned a blind eye to the homeless squatters as long as they removed their debris. The area around two side-by-by boxes was scrupulously clean.

  “Hello?” Kam fisted her hand to knock on the first one, then hesitated, feeling silly. Who knocks on a box? “Anyone around?” When she didn’t get a response, she knocked anyway, and called out again. “I’d like to talk with you about the kidnapping.”

  The box shifted, the flap went up and a scruffy male face looked up at her. His eyes were bloodshot, hair and beard needed trimming, and she could smell the stale sweat from unwashed clothes.

  “You another reporter?”

  “No.” She used the story she’d given Crain, which was mostly true. “I handle security for one of the warehouses, and I’m concerned about what happened to your friend. Did you see it happen? Can you tell me what you saw?”

  He scrubbed his face with a dirty hand. “I s’pose I could do that. If it’ll help. Want to come in out of the wind?”

  Kam looked at the cramped interior of his hideaway. They’d be sitting on top of one another, and the smell would be even stronger. “Why don’t I buy you a cup of coffee instead?”

  He shook his head. “Shops don’t want us inside. We have to go to the back, and they hand it out.” His voice held no judgment. “What’d you want to know?”

  “You stay right here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Kam cut over to the street and popped into a cafe two blocks down that served mostly dock workers. She bought two large coffees to go and returned to the man’s box home.

  As she approached, he propped up the flap with a wooden pole. Kam squatted so they could talk on the same level and handed him a cup of the hot liquid. His hand shot out from the blanket wrapped over his shivering body. It wasn’t any cooler than usual, but his clothing was worn and skimpy, and his slim frame had little natural padding to protect him from temperature changes.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  She took a handful of small cream containers and sugar packets from her pocket. “I didn’t know how you liked your coffee, so I brought everything.” He could use the calories.

  The man grinned, a rather shy look, and poured most of them into his cup. “Now that’s coffee.” He set the other packets aside near a lumpy backpack.

  Kam took a sip of her own beverage. She would have preferred tea. Black coffee was an acquired taste, one she hadn’t yet embraced. “When you’re ready, I’d like to hear how your friend was taken. Especially what you remember about the kidnappers.”

  The vagrant—he called himself Joe, although she suspected that was merely for convenience—was actually pretty good at detail, describing the black van, a recent Dodge with a small dent in the right fender. Of course he’d missed the license numbers, and black vans were a dime a dozen in New Orleans.

  “There was three of them. Two jumped out and grabbed Larry before we knew what was happening. A third man was driving, but never got out. They all wore dark baseball caps and gloves. Guess they didn’t want to leave fingerprints.”

  Or they were concealing a portal glow. Kam chilled at the thought.

  Joe’s eyes darted to her. “I seen this van before. Several times. Driving real slow as if they was looking for something—or somebody. Drove right by me once.” He nodded, agreeing with himself. “Yep, the driver looked right at me. Saw them eyes. Kind of like yours.”

  Kam’s heart beat faster. “You mean his eyes were blue?”

  “No, not that, not pretty like yours. Dark, almost black, but that same intense look. Like they could see straight inside me.” He eyed her coffee, untouched since her first sip. “Are you going to finish that?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s a little bitter for me.”

  He held out a hand. “Can I have it?”

  “Yes, of course.” She hid her surprise, and he added as much as possible to his own half-empty cup. He set the remainder to one side, next to the left-over packets.

  She brought the conversation back to the kidnappers and continued to question him about their clothing, the caps, the gloves, but it had been dark, and dark colors pretty much blended together. He identified the driver as light-skinned, which could be human or elf.

  Beyond her suspicion of the gloves, Kam had little to tie this incident with the others. Nothing except an intense look in the driver’s eyes and a gnawing feeling in Kam’s gut.

  She thanked Joe and stood. Not much new information, but the possibilities were alarming. If the men involved were elves—only a possibility, but gloves in New Orleans?—then the color of the eyes branded them as commoners or more likely crossbreeds, the offspring of illicit matings between Elite elves and commoners. Such liaisons were forbidden because the children were shunned by both communities. Misfits, social outcasts, the most dangerous people in any society. She bit her lip. It looked like this fringe population had somehow gained access to a portal.

  * * *

  The Lormarc cousins took immediate action after their guild master delivered his frantic news about the police inquiries. But their response wasn’t what Olseon had hoped. Although Seth and Rhyden were concerned about the authorities diggin
g into their affairs, they were more troubled by Olseon’s over-reaction. This was the third alarm he’d raised in the past week, leaving them with serious doubts about his coping ability. He had an excellent thirty-year record with them. He handled workers and the movement of merchandise smoothly on a normal day, but he hadn’t adapted well to New Orleans with its faster pace and unfamiliar culture. It was time for a transfer back home.

  Rhyden went to Elvenrude to confer with Harad about the management change, while Seth checked into the police activity. Detectives at city hall assured Seth the officers canvassing the dock area were looking for witnesses to the abduction. None of the businesses were under scrutiny or suspicion.

  Satisfied there was no reason for concern as long as Olseon didn’t do something stupid, Seth drove toward the guild to intercept the police officers. During the last five years, he’d spent a lot of personal time and effort traveling the human world and providing a deep background cover for the guild’s activities. He wasn’t going to have it destroyed by an overzealous officer or a panicked manager at one port.

  He was still thinking about Olseon, when he saw Crain and Kameo Ryndel by the side of the road just a few blocks from the guild house. What could those two have to discuss with one another?

  He nearly slammed on the brakes to ask them, but what would he say—I’d like to know what you’re talking about because I don’t trust either one of you? His lips compressed in a grim smile. They probably knew that, and if they had been plotting something, they wouldn’t tell him. It was probably nothing, and he was just being paranoid. He refused to consider the idea that he might want to stop just to talk with her.

  He stepped on the gas. He didn’t have time for side issues. His immediate problem was to head off the inquiries at the guild. In the guild master’s current state of alarm, the man couldn’t be trusted to talk with the police without making them suspicious he was hiding something.

  Seth slowed and glanced in his rear view mirror before turning the corner. They were still talking. The wind whipped Kam’s hair around her face, while she tried to tame it with one hand. She motioned with her other hand at something behind her. Seth leaned over the steering wheel to see what it was, but a building cut off his view. Just as well. He needed to keep his mind on his current business.