The Next Day …
Ben woke up to the sound of the cellular phone ringing on the dresser. He heard Meg roll out of bed and knock something to the floor fumbling for the device.
"Hello." She answered on the fourth ring.
"Good morning, Candace." Agent Markham's voice greeted her, an annoyingly cheerful tone making her want to punch him in the face.
"Markham, what do you want?" She ran her fingers through her hair, blinking as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. There were bags beneath her eyes and they were a little red from crying the night before.
"I called to see if you'd made contact with Kyle yesterday?" Markham went into business mode. Ben took a seat on the bed beside Meg, trying to hear the conversation.
"No, we didn't, we spent most of the day yesterday getting to know the ship." Meg glared at the phone as if the gesture would travel through the line.
"The sooner you establish who the middle man is the sooner we can track down the buyer."
"We're working on it, Agent Markham." Meg barely controlled her temper.
"See that you do, Inspector." The connection died abruptly in her ear.
"Who died and left you king, buster." Meg murmured as she shut the phone down. Turning, she didn't realize how close Ben had been sitting. She could see the swelling in his lip clearly.
"Oh, pardon me." The Mountie rose from the bed, his red long johns and gray, wool socks making Meg smile. She watched him in the mirror, gathering his pillow and covers to store them in the closet until that night. She shook her head, amazed at how corny he could be and how that endeared him to her. Silently, she pulled out her clothes for the day and headed into the bathroom.
"What do you think Markham's hidden agenda is on this assignment?" Ben's voice came from outside the bathroom door. For a moment Meg felt vulnerable, as if the bathroom door wasn't enough to hide her.
"I'm not certain, I do know he's in a hurry to find the buyer. Why, what do you have in mind?" She tugged on her slacks, wondering if there was something about Agent Markham she'd missed. His credentials were legitimate, that much she did know. That didn't mean that he didn't have more up his sleeve.
"Agent Markham isn't telling us everything he knows. I believe Agent McLeod knows more than she's telling as well." Meg could tell that Ben had given the whole matter quite a bit of thought. She'd been too distracted to, having him so close. Fear seized her, she'd let her guard down. The potential danger shook her to her core.
"That's very insightful, Ben." Meg tried to sound casual as she fastened her blouse with shaking hands. If anything happened to him she'd never forgive herself, especially if she could have prevented it.
"Did you sleep well last night, after your nightmare?" The Mountie asked, examining his reflection when Meg walked out of the bathroom.
"Yes, eventually." The lady Mountie answered, wishing he would let the matter drop. Ben saw the way she turned her back to him, putting her laundry in the hamper inside the closet. He didn't feel it was right to pry further, so he kept silent.
"How is that?" Meg asked timidly, her fingers brushing Ben's chin. He looked down into her brown eyes a moment before answering.
"It's nothing, it will be gone in no time." He gave her a crooked, reassuring grin- a mistake. Stinging pain made the Mountie wince and hiss. Meg felt worse than he did about it. She pulled back, wringing her hands as she stepped away.
"It was an accident, Meg. Don't feel badly." Ben's voice came very near the woman's ear as she busied herself collecting her shoes and purse. Looking into the mirror, Meg saw him behind her, his gaze meeting hers as they stood close enough to touch. She felt his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently before he pulled away. She didn't want him to pull away.
The Mounties' first day at sea was uneventful. Breakfast was at a French cafe that served the best latte Meg had ever tasted. The pair ate in silence, unsettled by Meg's nightmare. Ben wracked his brain trying to think of a way to bridge the gap between them. He knew it would be difficult to distract her out of her melancholy. Ben hoped that something would shake her out of it.
"What is on the agenda for tomorrow?" Ben asked, trying to make conversation.
"Tomorrow, ah, tomorrow, we dock at Ketchikan, Alaska." Meg sighed and pulled out an itinerary from her purse and laid it on the counter between them.
"Ah, yes, 'Alaska's first city', it's located on an island, once a fishing village …" Meg gave him her most withering expression. Ben quit, smiling indulgently at her.
"You know this itinerary better than I do, why did you ask, Ben?" Meg asked softly, her expression changing.
"So you would talk to me." He answered, looking her straight in the eye.
"You never give up, do you?" The lady Mountie leaned back in her chair, sipping her latte to hide a smile.
"No, I do not." Ben leaned back again, his steady gaze never wavering. Meg could have kissed him for his confidence in her.
"What am I going to do with him?" She wondered as she took a swig of her coffee. "What are we going to do about Kyle?" Meg countered.
"From the information Agent Markham provided, Kyle Phillips has ample motivation. I believe we need to confront him with the evidence." Ben laid out his plan in his usual, matter of fact way. He saw the shift in Meg's eyes, the way they narrowed.
"You disagree?" The Mountie saw her defenses begin to rise.
"We need to gain access to Phillips' quarters. If he knows how to get in touch with the buyer, the information would be there."
Agent Landon Markham sat by the indoor pool watching the bikini clad women walk by with a wolfish grin. His long, thin fingers toyed with the antenna on his cellular phone as he sat poolside, sipping a Long Island iced tea. When the wireless device rang the agent answered on the second ring.
"Hello." Markham listened to the heavy, Russian accent on the other end greet him enthusiastically.
"Agent Markham, how are we today?"
"Sitting poolside, waiting on you to make your move, Sasha." The agent answered, trying to cover his impatience.
"All in due time, all in due time, Markham. Sit back, drink, watch the girls. The blueprints will go into play very soon." The Russian's deep voice sounded like a grizzly bear. "I am still wondering how you convinced your superiors to let you go though with this undercover operation." Sasha was fishing and Markham knew it.
"My partner caught Candace Southerby before she could hand the plans off to me. I had to do something creative to get them to Anchorage."
Candace Southerby had been a pawn in a game of chess she couldn't imagine the rules to. Markham had used his position with the CSIS to find enough dirt on her to blackmail the secretary. Now she was facing trial for industrial espionage and a divorce after her husband, Benjamin, had found out about her past as a five thousand dollar a night call girl in college. Candace had put that part of her life behind her but hadn't told him.
The files Markham gave Fraser and Meg were what they needed to know to pass as Benjamin and Candace. He knew that giving the pair of undercover Mounties too much information would have proven fatal for him.
"Do the Mounties suspect anything yet?" Sasha asked, wary of having the two sleuths so close to his business.
"No, they're too busy with their own agenda to suspect anything." Markham's sly tone of voice made the old, Russian mobster chuckle. Sasha and Markham had been doing business for the last six years. Small stuff, just enough to pad Markham's bank account, until this data storage and transfer device. With the proceeds from this deal, the CSIS agent planned on disappearing, somewhere Canada didn't have an extradition treaty; somewhere warm.
"I'll call you when you get to Whittier." The Russian ended the conversation, his voice taunting. Markham gritted his expensive, capped teeth. It was a love-hate relationship between them; Markham loved the money and hated the Russian. The agent muttered a few, colorful phrases under his breath as he turned the cell phone off.