A Bowers Christmas: A Holiday Short Story in the Wallis Jones thriller series Read online

  “I know that voice,” said Fred as he leaned out of the line a little to get a better view.

  A deep, raucous peal of laughter could be heard all the way to the back of the line. Someone was having a better than average time and even though Fred couldn’t see his face right away he could tell whoever it was, was entertaining everyone around him. There was a knot in the line up ahead and everyone was turned toward someone, grinning ear to ear and letting out the occasional burst of laughter.

  “That’s not an easy trick,” whispered Fred as he stood up straighter, seeing if he could get a better vantage point. “Getting drones to smile like that. No offense,” he added, when the woman in front of him turned around to give him her best look of disappointment, drawing her lips into a thin, red line.

  “Management operative from Washington,” said the voice in their ears. “Wonder what she’s doing on a house tour. This is getting interesting. Keep your eyes open.”

  Another burst of loud laughter and one loud male voice telling the end of what sounded like a long story. “There must be a Santa Claus because we’re too poor to get me all of these toys!”

  Fred felt a surge of anger and knew who it had to be entertaining everyone a room away from them.

  “Robbins,” he hissed quietly. Dave Robbins, a younger Circle operative that Fred had worked with on several missions in Europe before they had a falling out that made everyone think a long separation would be best.

  “That’s his loud donkey voice and he’s telling a story about me.”

  Maureen’s eyes grew wider as she listened to the voice and realized the identity. “Is that a true story?”

  “It’s from an old cover,” stammered Fred quietly, leaning in to whisper in Maureen’s ear, knowing full well he was telling the Circle operative who was listening to them on the other end.

  It is true, thought Fred, feeling betrayed. It was one of the few memories from his actual childhood that he had ever shared with anyone back when he saw Robbins as his closest friend. Now, he was turning it into some kind of joke.

  “He must know we’re standing back here,” said Fred, an edge to his voice.

  “Breathe,” said the voice in his ear. “You’re not on your own time and we won’t get this chance again.”

  “Do you know why he’s here?” asked Fred, looking at Maureen.

  Maureen shrugged to keep up appearances, even though she knew Fred was really asking their handler on the other end.

  “No idea,” said the voice. “But there’s a rumor going around that he’s dropped out of the Circle and is operating on a cash basis these days. A rogue operative. Get a picture of him, Fred.”

  The crowd ahead moved just enough to let Fred and Maureen into the first room where everyone could spread out more, blocked only by the red velvet ropes stretched across most of the room to keep visitors from actually sitting on the antique furniture. Fred leaned into the roped off area and was finally able to see his former friend standing on the first few steps that led upstairs.

  Dave Robbins was standing on the stairs in what looked like an expensive bespoken dark navy suit, even from a distance, with a green scarf hanging around his neck and a fedora tilted on his head.

  He was busy launching into another story, grinning and slapping someone on the back when he caught sight of Fred and started waving.

  “There’s my old friend, Fred Bowers!” he yelled out. Fred shut his eyes momentarily, raising his eyebrows and pressing the palm of his hand against his face in frustration.

  “Man’s got no protocol,” said the handler in his ear. “Never did, so that’s no surprise. Could he yell your name louder?”

  “He does not age,” said Maureen, quickly noticing Fred’s irritation. “I’m here with you,” said Maureen, grabbing Fred’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “And I already told you I think you’re hot. He’s a pretty boy,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “Never settle down, never take enough things, seriously enough.”

  “I’ll take it,” said a female voice suddenly popping up in their head.

  “I was wondering where you were,” said Maureen, discreetly touching her ear. “Shift change I take it. Didn’t you know Dave?”

  “Met him once or twice,” said the female voice. “For a night or two.”

  Fred grimaced, squinting his eyes. “More information than I’ll ever need to know. Still doesn’t explain what he’s doing here. You think he’s playing for the other side? If that’s true, this just got to be a little dangerous.”

  “Fred! Fred! Excuse me,” said Dave, as he stepped down from the stairs and worked his way back through the other room till he got to Fred and Maureen.

  “Nice to see you,” he said, enveloping Fred in a bear hug. “You’re being watched,” he whispered in his ear. “You were made before you walked in the house. I’m here to save your ass.”

  Fred tensed when he heard the words but pushed Dave off of him, and took a step back. He narrowed his eyes trying to decide if he could trust the apparently former Circle operative.

  “You remember my wife, Maureen?” he asked, buying a little time. He tried to manage a smile and take a deep breath, willing himself to relax so he could take a look around the room and see who was a little too interested in them. No one appeared to be watching them.

  “Remote Watchers,” said Dave, quietly, using the nickname given to Management’s operatives who were regularly assigned to tail scores of Circle members and report back on their every move. Every Circle operative above a certain level was known to have a team of Management Watchers assigned to them. It was thought of as more of a nuisance than anything else.

  “You don’t even live in Richmond anymore,” said Fred. “Why would you come all this way just to tell me a room in a Management bigwig’ house is wired to watch who comes and goes? We kind of assumed that already,” he said, taking in another deep breath.

  Dave waited till a small group of people went around them, leaning over to take a look at the Department 56 Christmas Village figurines set up on a long nearby table just out of reach of any handsy passerby.

  “They must have every piece,” said one of the women, oohing and aahing. “Look, they even have the post office. I’ve been looking for that one everywhere. Even eBay doesn’t list that one.”

  “I saw one but it was overpriced,” said her friend, shaking her head.

  Dave rolled his eyes, grinning again, as he glanced over his shoulder to take a look at the village. Finally, the group had moved on, just out of earshot.

  “I came back when I heard you were on some kind of special list,” he said. “I know we’re not mates anymore but doesn’t mean I want to see you get laid out.”

  “Ask him where he’s been and why he left,” said the female voice in Fred’s earbud.

  “Alexa wants to know why you left and where you’ve been,” said Maureen.

  “That your constant companion for the night?” asked Dave, looking delighted. “Tell her I’ll rendezvous with her later at the Jefferson Hotel, usual room. Say one a.m.?”

  “Quit using my wife to arrange your booty call,” said Fred. Maureen let out a cough to cover up her smile.

  “Nice tie,” said Dave, smiling broadly and looking directly at the tie.

  “He doesn’t age, does he,” said their handler into their ears.

  “What did you hear?” asked Maureen. “What’s different?”

  “Wait, who are you playing for? That’s first. If you heard something you’re still in the game and you’re not playing with us anymore. Last time I counted, there’s only two teams and that makes everyone in this house your comrade.” Fred had stepped close enough to Dave not to be heard by anyone else and was jabbing him in the chest with every word.

  “I’m still your comrade, at least in arms,” said Dave, his smile starting to show wear around the edges. “Don’t wrinkle the handmade linen shirt, now, Fred,” he said, as he gently grabbed Fred’s hand, lowering it down.

  “Take
out the earbuds,” he said.

  “What? No!” shouted the voice in their ears, making Fred’s ears ring for a moment. Dave’s face took on a serious look and he nodded his head, mouthing, ‘do it’. Fred looked at him for a moment and took a chance, taking out the earbud and slipping it into his pocket. Maureen did the same. She could hear Alexa shouting as she slipped it out.

  “Okay, so tell us,” said Maureen, still smiling casually. She pulled her scarf over the Christmas tree pin and saw Fred casually do the same over the Santa tie, cutting off communication with the Circle. They were on their own. If Dave was lying to them and this was a trap things were about to go badly.

  “Thank you for trusting me,” said Dave.

  “Hesitate much longer and I’m taking it back,” said Fred in a menacing tone. He was sure he could get to the gun strapped under his shoulder in time if he had to protect Maureen. He knew she could take care of not only herself but protect him as well but he wasn’t going to let it come to that, especially with Dave Robbins.

  “I’m still with the Circle,” said Dave, “and I’m risking far more than you two just by being here. I’m sure I’m pissing off the Keeper even now. Alexa has probably already put in a call and it’s worked its way up the spy cells to the Keeper at the top. Really, I’m supposed to be in Baltimore right now.”

  “Doing what?” asked Fred.

  “Keeping an eye on a George Clemente. Ever heard of him?” asked Dave. “One bad dude. The Circle acts like they’re not too worried about him. He’s pretty high in Management cells. But from what I’ve seen, he’s the one going rogue and legit. My guess is he’s planning to break away.”

  “What does that have to do with a Christmas tour in Richmond, Virginia?” asked Maureen.

  “Come on, we had better keep moving,” said Fred, eyeing the volunteer who was taking glances at them.

  Dave took the opportunity to launch into a loud story, talking to not only Fred and Maureen but everyone who had piled in behind them.

  “Used to love coming to your house for Christmas. You let anyone who had no place to go just show up,” said Dave. “And everyone got a chocolate Santa by their plate. That was back when all you two had was that glass top table you found in an alley.”

  “When that nice couple dumped everything they owned in the alley and took off one night,” said Maureen. “I remember that. He was a chef at that two star restaurant and I asked her what was the hurry. They gave us that lame answer about her mom’s health like that meant you couldn’t take the time to load a UHaul. I got that great mixer then too.”

  “That table barely fit everyone who showed up,” said Dave, “and whenever you had to get something out of the oven, everyone on one side had to get up.”

  “Oh, look at the tree,” said Maureen, pointing at the large green fir tree in the center of the next room. “Is that red and white wine in the bulbs?” she asked the nearby volunteer who was standing quietly by the tree, her arms neatly folded in front of her. The woman smiled and nodded.

  The tree was covered in glass bulbs half filled with red or white wine and every branch was strung with small white lights that shined through the bulbs.

  “Would have never thought of that,” said Maureen, keeping up the appearance of a happy couple on a Christmas outing.

  Sitting next to the tree was an upholstered wingback chair with brass tacks around the back edges. Maureen signaled Fred, who stood in front of her, hiding her position from anyone else walking by, including the volunteer. Maureen worked quickly, carefully digging out two of the tacks, loosening the material just enough to slide in the micro feed, before pushing back in the tacks. The entire time she kept her face up, as if she was looking at the room’s interior. It all took less than a minute and their mission in the house was complete.

  Dave was still talking as Maureen turned back around and the volunteer walked closer.

  “Please don’t stand so close to the furniture,” said the volunteer.

  “Oh, excuse me,” said Maureen, as she smiled and stepped away. “Lovely tree.”

  “Yes, we get a lot of compliments on it.”

  “I imagine you do,” said Maureen.

  “Don’t lean on the wall,” said the volunteer as she rushed away to get some stragglers to stand up straighter.

  “So, tell us,” said Fred, pulling out his iPhone and sliding his finger across, smoothly turning on a Circle app to jam any nearby listening devices. “No one can possibly hear us.”

  “There’s a rumor going around that Maureen is in a protection detail for the royal family,” said Dave. “Wallis Jones in particular.”

  “Management would never touch that woman,” said Fred. “She’s Management royalty by birth and hands off.”

  “It’s not exactly Management that is so interested. It’s this Clemente fellow. He has designs on gaining his own share of power and he thinks Wallis Jones and Norman Weiskopf are in his way. He thinks Maureen is in his way.”

  “How dangerous is he?” asked Maureen, managing to still look relaxed and happy, even though Fred knew by the small wrinkle that had appeared between her eyebrows that she was taking Dave very seriously.

  “On a scale of one to ten, I’d say five hundred. I can’t get anyone to listen to me, at least not yet,” said Dave. “Circle’s even put some kid in to watch him. Charlie Foyle. In way over his head. I’m on temporary assignment to find out what’s going on with so many trips overseas. No luck just yet.”

  “None of this is connecting at the dots,” said Fred.

  “Now you understand my frustration. Much bigger picture going on here, but can’t quite see what he’s up to. But, you, my friend,” he said, pointing at Fred, “are the reason I’m even getting this close. That big falling out we had in London gave the Keeper what he needed to start a rumor that I was looking for a payday.”

  “You were gambling way over your paygrade,” muttered Fred. He didn’t relish bringing the whole thing back up again. Fred and Maureen had been on assignment in London two years ago and were supposed to rendezvous with Dave but things had gone south in a hurry, no thanks to Dave, thought Fred.

  “You were too reckless and almost got us all killed,” said Fred. “Your partying was out of control.”

  “I was only grazed,” said Maureen, absently running a finger down her arm where there was still a thin red scar.

  “Six inches worth of grazed,” Fred said, his face turning red.

  “All in the past,” said Dave, smiling through clenched teeth. “Look, I know you’re still angry with me. I lost focus. Expensive free Scotch has a habit of occasionally doing that to me. I admit, that was a bad moment. But I’m not here to cause any trouble and despite how we left things.”

  “You threw a chair at my head,” said Fred.

  “Yes, that, despite that I still think of us as having each other’s backs. Look, I can’t stay any longer. I think the Circle really would kick me out this time if I get burned and can’t go back and snuggle up again to Clemente. Watch yourself around the entire Jones clan, Maureen. I may not be able to piece everything together but something terrible is crawling their way. Try not to stand too close to it. Okay,” said Dave, giving Maureen a quick hug. “I’m out of here. Have a rendezvous with your angry handler in a couple of hours. Friendly, if not friends?” he asked, putting out his hand to Fred to shake.

  Fred looked at him for a moment before Maureen gave him a small push in the middle of his back and he hugged Dave, whispering, “Thank you,” startling Dave.

  “Well, and a proper Merry Christmas to all,” said Dave as he pulled away, smiling broadly once more. “You two enjoy the rest of the tour and till we meet again.”

  Maureen and Fred didn’t even watch Dave work his way out of the room.

  Maureen took Fred’s hand and held it tight. “Don’t worry,” she said to him. “I’m not in any danger. My entire assignment these days is to be a friend to Wallis Jones and that’s mostly amounted to the occasional lunch an
d neighborhood Bunko games with too much candy. Occasionally, I win a candle. No danger.”

  “Dave is way too cocky for his own good,” said Fred, “but he’s very good at assessing a situation.” He put his arms around Maureen, drawing her close, holding the back of her head in his hand as he kissed her forehead. He rested his forehead against hers and said, “Love you,” so quietly no one, including Alexa, could hear him except for Maureen.

  Her expression softened as she signed him, ‘me too’. They had adopted several sign language symbols over the years to be able to communicate across large, open spaces when they couldn’t make a sound. Fred’s throat ached as he wondered about the danger out there that he couldn’t see.

  They moved their scarves back out of place and putting back in the earbuds, turning them back on and resuming coverage of the house.

  “A lot of new faces here,” said Maureen.

  “Make sure you get them all, Alexa” said Fred, gently tapping his ear.

  “Finally!” said Alexa, the handler on the other end. “What the hell was that about?” she demanded but neither Fred or Maureen answered here.

  “Is that settee covered in crushed blue velvet?” asked Maureen, making a face. “Interesting choice for an antique.”

  “Nice,” said the voice in their ears. “Just going to ignore me.”

  “We should really get to Maymont this year,” said Maureen. “I love the way they decorate the old Victorian house at Christmas time. Their volunteers are even in costumes.”

  “Whatever you want,” said Fred. “No roasted chestnuts this year for me. Those did not go down well.”

  “Whatever you want,” said Maureen, smiling up at Fred.

  “Oh, that’s nice,” said Alexa.

  “Merry Christmas to all,” said Maureen, turning to get a better shot of two young Management recruits hovering near the fireplace. “and to all a good night.”

  “One more house still to go,” said Alexa in their ears.

  Maureen smiled and leaned in to kiss her husband. “Merry Christmas,” said Fred.