SMK: Too Close to Home – Chapter 16

"If I thought you'd be safer, I'd ask you to stay in the car," Lee teased as he pulled the Vette to the curb a couple of blocks from Dewey Franklin's apartment complex.

Lee looked over at her, a look of quiet resignation on his face. "But I'm not 100% sure you'd be safer, so I'd rather you stay with me. Besides..." He winked.

"...I know, I know..."

"You/I never stay in the car and you/I know it..." they managed to say at the exact same moment. But Lee wasn't smiling; he was just looking at her with an inscrutable expression on his face.

"Well, you haven't asked me to in a long time. Maybe I could manage it now." Lee just continued looking at her. Amanda chuckled. "Yeah, maybe not." She reached for the door handle. "Well, let's do this."

Lee grabbed her arm, causing her to turn with surprise and look at him. "Listen, Amanda." He reached up, stroked her cheek, and tucked a piece of her dark hair behind her ear.

She waited for him to speak. When he didn't, she chuckled. "What?"

He stroked her hair back again, then dropped his hand to her thigh. "I don't have a great feeling about this, so we need to play this smart."

"Okay…"

"They were watching Benjamin Hoyt's place; it's only logical to assume they could be watching this place, too. So…" Lee looked around outside the car. "We're going to need to be more careful going in."

Amanda nodded her head. "You know, if they are watching, they're probably not just watching the front. So, going in the back isn't going to help us at all. We're gonna to have to find another way in that they either haven't thought of or that they think is unlikely for someone to use."

His serious gaze met hers as he nodded his head. "Exactly." He broke eye-contact and ducked his head to look out the window on her side of the car. "We're going to need to sneak around a few houses and come up to the building on the side. Maybe find a window to climb into."

Amanda screwed up her face. "Yeah. Okay."

"It's the only way, Amanda." He looked back into her eyes. "I'm not taking a chance on them seeing us and trying to take us all out."

Amanda started nodding her head even before he finished his sentence. "Yeah, I get it. It's fine." She turned to look out the windshield toward the apartment building. "So, we're going to get inside through another apartment, and then approach his door."

Lee gave a single nod of his head. "Yeah. You ready?"

"I'm ready." Amanda smiled.

Lee exited the Vette and came around to open Amanda's door and give her a hand out. Getting out of the low-slung vehicle never had been easy, but at 5 ½ months pregnant, he knew she found it much more challenging. Lee closed the car door behind her and reached for her hand again. "Just act normal. To anyone who may be watching, we're just heading to a friend's backyard, that's all."

"I get it, Lee. Remember, I passed the Agency's infiltration test." Amanda looked up at Lee and smiled as she pulled her purse strap further up on her shoulder. Hand-in-hand, they made their way up the driveway of a home near where they had parked, went around the house on the sidewalk beside the garage, and continued toward the rear of the house.

Lee looked around and bent his head toward her. "Okay, I think we're out of sight of the street." Tugging on her hand, he pulled Amanda down the line of a privacy fence toward an alley. Then, after glancing over their surroundings a moment, led her slowly behind the house and down an alley that ran parallel to the street they'd parked on. Spotting what looked like a loose board in a neighbor's fence, he looked down at her. "Come on…" He put his hand low on her back, looked around again, and indicated she should go through the fence "…this way."

"Easy for you to say, Buster." Amanda managed to squeeze through the fence, but just barely.

He led her down another alley and through a couple other fences and a prickly hedge before they reached his target – a shed near the side of the apartment complex. "Okay." His eyes slid over the side of the building looking for possible entry points. "There." He pointed up to a window on the second floor.

"Lee, how am I going to get up there?"

"You're not." He smiled. "I am. You're going to wait here for me while I get inside and get to that door over there to let you in." He pointed to a side entrance. "Stay in the shadow of the shed, Amanda." He wrapped his hands around her upper arms and gazed seriously into her eyes. "I'm serious. DO – NOT – LEAVE – THIS – SPOT. You hear me?"

Amanda snorted quietly. "Of course I hear you. Sheesh. Where do you think I'm going to go?"

Lee huffed out a cynical chuckle and leaned in to kiss her on the lips. "With you, Darling, I never know. Just stay here and wait for me, okay? So I don't have to worry about worrying about you?"

"I promise."

"Thank you." He kissed her again and disappeared into the long shadows of the building.

"Lydia?" Disguised in a long, dark-haired wig, a pair of glasses, and padding around her middle to make her appear bigger and older, Francine knocked on the door of Lydia's apartment. There was no response. Strange. Francine looked down at the bottom of the door to see a faint ribbon of light coming from inside. She knocked again and put her ear to the door. "Lydia?" Still nothing. "I don't like this," she muttered under her breath.

Taking her city-rake lock pick out of her purse, she looked around. Confident no one was watching, she slipped the pick into the keyhole and rocked it up and down until she felt the lock give and the door slip open a crack. Dropping the pick back into her purse, she gingerly nudged the door open and poked her head around to glance inside.

Chaos greeted her.

Francine slipped her hand under her jacket and palmed the grip of her gun. Brining it out, she loaded a round and braced it in both hands in a compressed guard position. She slunk around the corner of the entryway into the luxury apartment and looked around. Lamps lay broken on the floor. Tables and chairs were overturned. This didn't look good for her friend.

Continuing on through the living room with her back to a wall, Francine inched her way through the living area of the apartment, senses attuned to any sound, smell, or movement. One of the light-blue, floor-length, silk curtains that puddled on the floor on either side of the sliding-glass balcony doors fluttered gracefully as a soft breeze brushed past it. Hmm. Lydia wouldn't have left the door open if she weren't here.

Francine cleared the kitchen and dining room and was headed toward the two bedrooms down the hallway when she heard the thumping sound coming from the back bedroom. Not wanting to rush and make a fatal mistake, she continued clearing each room with painstaking thoroughness. Finally, she arrived at the room in question. Francine reached out slowly to grasp the round door handle. She turned it as quietly as possible then suddenly pushed the door open. A figure dressed all in black bolted out through the door, knocking her to the ground in his hustle to escape. On the way down, Francine's head hit the doorframe with enough force that blackness swirled around her vision; the world faded out, then disappeared altogether.

Francine opened her eyes to a splitting headache. Groaning, she reached around to the tender spot on the back of her head as she carefully sat up. Wondering how long she'd been out, she looked down at her watch. Ten minutes. Okay, well, ten minutes was better than half the night. She patted the floor around her looking for her gun, but it was right beside her where she'd dropped it. Sliding her eyes shut and leaning her head against the wall, she let out a sigh of relief.

The thumping sound she'd heard earlier drifted into her consciousness, and she opened her eyes to look around. It was still coming from the bedroom. Shaking off the dizziness swiftly coursing through her brain, she grabbed to doorframe as an anchor and picked herself up off the floor before proceeding into the room. The sound was coming from the closet.

Slowly, opening the closet door, Francine looked down. Lydia's wide, panicked eyes stared up at her. "Lydia!" Francine knelt more quickly than her brain could handle, and the room spun around her again. She closed her eyes a moment, seeking equilibrium, and grabbed the closet doorframe. Once the merry-go-round stopped, she opened her eyes again and reached for her purse. Her keys would be all she needed to tear the edge of the duct-tape around Lydia's wrists and ankles. "Let's get you out of here."

Once freed, Lydia reached for the tape across her mouth and pulled. "Oooouuuchhh!"

"Come on, Lydia." Francine reached for her hands and pulled her up from the floor. "Tell me what happened while you pack a bag."

Lydia stretched to grab a suitcase from the top shelf of her closet. "I had just gotten home from work…"

"Actually, you know what?" Francine interrupted her. "Just wait. Let's get you packed and get out of here." She looked around. "If you're talking, I can't hear what's going on around me."

"Where are we going?" Lydia glanced behind her at Francine as she pulled a drawer open to grab her things out of it.

"The Agency." Francine disappeared into the on-suite bathroom and came back out with her hands full of toiletries. "I need to get you some place safe. Then we can talk."

Lee knocked on the door of the apartment while Amanda dug her official I.D. out of her purse and readied it.

"Coming!" They exchanged a look; at least he was home, and alive. Footsteps came toward the door. "Who are you, and what do you want?" The man was obviously looking through the peep-hole in the door. Lee and Amanda held up their I.D.s.

"Mr. Franklin," Lee addressed him. "We're with the Agency. May we speak with you for a few moments?"

"Why do you need to see me?" Franklin's voice raised in pitch by a degree. Amanda looked at Lee then spoke up.

"Mr. Franklin, I'm Amanda King. My partner and I think you could be in danger. Would you open your door and talk to us, please?"

There was no answer, but a moment later they heard the door unlock, and Franklin cracked it open enough to look down the hallway both ways. "Alright. Come in. Quickly."

Amanda and Lee stepped into the dark apartment as Franklin closed the door behind them. "Well?"

Lee slipped his I.D. back into his coat pocket. "Mr. Franklin, are you aware that Benjamin Hoyt was murdered?"

Dewey huffed out a cynical breath and nodded his head. "Yeah. Why do you think I'm closed up in here with the curtains drawn and the lights off?"

"Mr. Franklin," Amanda took a step closer. "What can you tell us about the death of Raymond Peralta?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Franklin turned and walked toward the living room area.

Glancing at Amanda, Lee shook his head and decided to go for the jugular. "Listen, man. I don't have the time nor the patience to be delicate. Who paid you off, Franklin?"

Franklin whipped his head around and shifted his eyes between Lee and Amanda. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what it means, Mr. Franklin." Amanda shrugged her shoulders and lifted her hands palms up. "Why don't you tell us what happened, and we'll see about making sure what happened to Mr. Hoyt doesn't happen to you, too."

Franklin stared at her a moment then dropped onto his sofa, propped his elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands. "You'd think someone with a job like mine would know."

"Know what, Mr. Franklin?" Amanda started to walk closer, but Lee stopped her with an arm stretched out in front of her, blocking her path. Eyebrow raised, she looked up at him; he just shook his head.

Franklin snapped his head up and looked straight ahead rather than at them. "Would know not to be so stupid." He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed before finally looking at them.

"Benjamin and I were both in debt."

Lee glanced at Amanda, then back at Franklin. "How much debt are we talkin'?"

"A lot." Franklin looked down at his hands. "Gambling debts." He sighed again and shook his head. "To make a long story short, we were paid to look the other way and not say anything about the cameras shorting out for a very useful five minutes."

Amanda's hand clinched Lee's arm and he looked at her. She looked up at him and whispered, "Lee, I saw a shadow move."

He froze for a split second, but then moved as if there were fire lapping at his heels. He grabbed Franklin by his collar, hauled him off the sofa, and pushed him toward the door. "Go!"

"Hey!" Franklin looked back at him, a frown on his face. "What are you doing?"

"You wanna die like your buddy?" Lee shouted. "Go!" He pushed Franklin and Amanda toward the door. Amanda reached it first, threw it open, and lunged out into the hallway with Franklin and Lee behind her. Lee just had time slam the door shut and dive into the hallway before the explosion hit. "Seriously?" Lee clinched his jaw, danger shooting from his eyes. "This is getting real old." He jumped up, grabbed Amanda with one hand and Franklin with the other. "Let's get out of here! Go, go, go!"

Franklin headed toward the back of the building as people began pouring out of their apartments and running for the exits, but Lee stopped him. "No. We need a different way out of here. They might have someone covering the back."

Amanda grabbed Lee's arm. "This way." She looked at him and pointed toward an open apartment door at the end of the corridor.

"Brilliant. Stay close to me; I don't want to lose you in this mess." The three of them walked quickly toward the open apartment. Lee slowed down as he neared the door and cautioned Amanda and Franklin to stay behind him. Gun in hand, he sneaked into the well-lit apartment, attuned to any threat, but no one was there. He looked back at Amanda. "They probably ran out when the explosion happened. Let's head out the window in the bedroom; we'll come out close to the shed and maybe we can sneak back to the car."

Amanda nodded her head. "Lead the way."

The knock at the door startled her. Who in the world would be coming here this time of the evening? She looked across the dining area to see Janine and Jennifer working together in the kitchen. There were definitely perks to having the girls around. "Janine, get yourself quietly back to your bedroom."

Curious, Janine exchanged glances with Jennifer; but she knew better than to argue or ask questions. Obey, and obey right now was the law of the land. She put down the soup ladle she'd been using to serve out Tania's dinner and headed toward the bedroom, careful to slip past the living room window as quickly as possible.

Once she knew Janine was safely hidden away, Tania went to the door and looked out the peep hole. Jennifer came around the opening between the dining room and living room. "Who is it?"

"I don't know. Some guy in a suit with a clipboard. He looks innocuous." She reached for the door handle. "Probably taking some kind of a survey or trying to sell something." She opened the door and smiled. "Hi. Can I help you?"

"Yes, ma'am," the young man smiled and politely bowed ever so slightly at the waist. "My name is Efraim Beaumont, and I'm with the census bureau. I'm looking for Tanya Smith?" He flashed her a badge just long enough for her to get a quick glimpse of it.

"Census?" Tania chuckled. "Aren't you about seven years too late for that? Or maybe three years too early? Trying to get a head-start, are you?"

Efraim chuckled with her. "Good one, Mrs..." He looked down at his clipboard.

"Ms," she corrected him. "Ms. Smith."

"Ah, yes. Ms. Smith." He scribbled something on the paper then looked up at her. "Yes, sorry. We're doing an off-year quality check because we were recently notified that there were a large number of mistakes from the staff who did the census in this area." He pushed his glasses farther up onto the bridge of his nose. "May I come in and ask you a few questions?"

Tania hesitated. She'd been in the game too long to not be suspicious – and to not smell something fishy. "I don't know. May I see your badge again?"

"Sure, Ms. Smith." Beaman reached for the I.D. and handed it to her. "No problem. Take your time."

Tania looked it over; it seemed like the real deal. Sighing, she handed it back to him. "Okay. This won't take long, will it?"

"Oh, no, Ms. Smith." He smiled. "Maybe ten minutes?"

She opened the door and ushered him into the room. "Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?"

Settling onto the threadbare sofa, Beaman placed the clipboard on his lap and poised his pen over it. "Ah, thank you very much. That is kind of you, but no thank you." He looked up as she sat in the cushioned chair across from him. Already, he had taken in the worn furniture and the walls seriously in need of a paint job. "Alright. Let's get started, and I'll get out of your hair." He pushed his glasses up again. "Your full name is?"

"Mary Tanya Smith." He looked up at her, and she clarified. "I go by my middle name."

"Of course, Ms. Smith. Thank you." He wrote her name on the paper. "And how long have you lived here?"

"Just a few months, actually." She looked around the house. "We moved here from out west over the summer."

"We?"

"Yes, we." Tania smiled at him. "My daughter Jennifer and I."

"And what's her full name?"

"Jennifer Lyn Keifer." She shrugged her shoulder when he glanced up at her. "That's one reason we moved – my divorce. I took back my maiden name."

"Ah. I see." He smiled at her again and wrote something down.

"And what school does your daughter attend?"

"She goes to Arlington Heights Middle School."

"Does anyone else live here?"

"No, it's just the two of us." Tania chuckled. "Well, sometimes her friend is over here so often it's almost like she lives here, too."

"Is she here now?" Eyebrows raised in curiosity, Beaman looked around.

She chuckled. "Um, well. Yes, actually, she is. But I'm not sure why you need to know that."

Sensing he needed to tread gingerly here, he threw her his easy, boy-next-door smile and tried to put her at easy. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Smith. I don't mean to sound like I'm prying. We just need to go ahead and document who all is in the home at the time of our visit – even if they don't all live here. I make a note of who the residents are versus the visitors, don't worry." He looked back down at his clipboard. "And what is the name of Jennifer's friend?"

Tanya looked at him through narrowed eyelids. "Janine. Janine Watson."

"I see." He wrote that down and looked back up at her. "No worries, Ms. Smith. It's just for cross-referencing purposes."

"Can I get your last address and your birthdates? Then I can leave you to your evening." He smiled. "I've still got about five houses to do before I can go home myself."

"My birthday is September 25, 1950. Jennifer's is November 12, 1973." She watched him write those down. There was no way he could know she'd totally made them up. "Our last address was 4200 Taylor Street in San Diego, California."

"Perfect." Beaman wrote that down, capped the pen, and rose to leave. "You've been very helpful, Ms. Smith." He reached out to shake her hand, then moved toward the door just as Jennifer emerged from the kitchen and Janine came out of the bedroom. "Ah, ladies. It's nice to meet you." He smiled at Tanya and chuckled. "I can't tell which one is your daughter, but from the birthdate you gave me, I'd bet on this young lady." He reached out to shake Jennifer's hand. "You must be Jennifer." Beaman watched as she looked over at her mother. From the corner of his eye, he saw the woman make the barest of head nods.

"Yes," the girl reached out and took Beaman's hand. "I'm Jennifer."

"Nice to meet you, Jennifer." He turned toward the older girl and reached out, offering a handshake. "And you must be Janine?"

"Yes, Janine Watson."

"Nice to meet you, Janine." He smiled, then turned toward the door. "Alright ladies, I've taken enough of your evening. Have a good one!" He smiled to himself on the way out the door. Leatherneck would be glad to hear his pen-camera contraption had come in very handy.