Undercover Warrior. Aimee Thurlo

Undercover Warrior - Aimee  Thurlo


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anything, Erin, but wear these in case you forget.”

      * * *

      AS THEY RETURNED to the main building, Erin could feel her heart hammering. When Preston went to speak to one of the officers standing outside, she focused on Kyle. “This is their case, yet you’re taking an active role in the investigation. Is that because he’s your brother?”

      “No, it’s because I’m a federal agent with an interest in what happens here,” he answered.

      She stared at the floor for a moment, trying not to fall apart. “Hank had been so tense lately. I should have paid more attention.”

      “Had anything unusual happened lately?”

      “Hank never confided in me, but I believe something had been bothering him. It started about a week before he left for Spain. He was tense and short-tempered with everyone, but when he came back, that still hadn’t changed.”

      “Did you ever ask him about it?”

      She nodded. “I tried, but he told me that it was family business. That was his way of telling me it was personal and I needed to back off, so I did.”

      “Family? He wasn’t married, right?” Kyle asked.

      “I think he meant his brother, Bruce, who works on and off for him.”

      “Were they close?”

      “No. They had nothing in common and could barely stand being around each other. Hank is all about working hard, but Bruce has never been able to hold on to a job for long.”

      Preston joined them and tossed Kyle a pair of latex gloves. “Okay, we’re ready. Let’s go inside the main office. I want you to look around carefully, Erin, and tell me if there’s anything missing,” he said, putting on a set of gloves, too.

      “Look for anything that’s new, too,” Kyle added.

      “New, how?” she said. “Are you talking about something he brought back from his trip, like souvenirs, or what’s in today’s mail?”

      “Both,” they answered in unison.

      Hearing another investigator call his name, Preston said something in a low voice to Kyle.

      “Go. I’ll handle things here,” Kyle said.

      As Erin walked inside with Kyle, the first thing that caught her eye was the small plant that lay on the carpeted floor, soil spilling out of its container.

      Temporarily forgetting what they’d told her about not touching anything, she picked it up carefully, and scooped the soil back into the pot with a gloved hand.

      A second later, she froze. “Oh—I’m so sorry. I didn’t think....”

      “It’s okay. That’s why you’re wearing gloves. We can’t get prints from soil anyway,” Kyle said with a gentle smile.

      “When the man pushed me out, I bumped into the corner of my desk and knocked over the plant. Considering everything that’s happened, it’s stupid to worry about this, but if I leave it here, it’ll die...too.”

      Erin turned her face away as tears ran down her cheeks. “Now you’re going to think I’m crazy for sure,” she managed in a shaky voice. “I held it together through everything—being kidnapped, forced to shoot at someone just to stay alive and seeing three people die. Then I fall apart over this....” Despite all the care she’d lavished on the small desert rose, the plant was still nothing more than a thorny stem with a couple of leaves.

      “It’s okay,” Kyle said, lifting her back to her feet with incredible gentleness. “So how come this little plant means so much to you?” He smiled. “If you don’t mind my saying so, it sure doesn’t look like much.”

      She chuckled through her tears. “Hank got it years ago from a client. The original plant had been her great-grandmother’s, and the family had a tradition of giving a cutting to people who performed a special service for them. In this case, the woman’s husband had passed and she was having a hard time financially so Hank charged her half price for the safe room.” She looked at the plant. “There’s a legend attached to the desert rose that says it’ll only bloom for an owner whose heart has learned to sing.”

      “And your heart?”

      “I guess mine doesn’t sing loud enough.” She gave him a hesitant smile, then placed the plant in the windowsill next to her desk. “Hank almost killed it, but I took it from him before he could toss it in the trash. Since then, I’ve done everything I could to make it grow and bloom, but so far nothing.”

      “I’ll speak to my brother, but I’m sure it’ll be okay if you want to take it with you.”

      “Thanks,” she said, wiping away her tears with a now muddy, gloved hand. “I can’t seem to stop crying, but I’m okay.”

      He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her face. “You’re a strong woman, Erin, but you reached your limit. It happens.”

      “To you?”

      “It did—once,” he said.

      She tried to force herself to swallow so she could stop crying, but her eyes continued to fill with tears. She didn’t dare blink.

      He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, but she moved back. “Let’s get back to work. Tell me what you need.”

      “How about a list of company employees, starting with the ones who live here in town?”

      “I can access payroll, but I’d have to use my computer. Is that okay? They never touched it.”

      “Keep your gloves on, but go ahead,” he said. As she sat down, he added, “Do you always issue checks to your employees, or do some get paid in cash?”

      Her eyes were brimming with tears and it made the numbers on the screen swim but somehow she pulled herself together. “No cash. Most of the money is deposited directly into the employees’ bank accounts, but for a few, we still cut checks. Payday is every two weeks—next Friday is the next one,” she said, pushing the cell phone she’d left on her desk out of her way as she reached for paper. After loading it into the printer, she looked up at him. “Should I put my cell phone back in my purse?”

      “No, that has to stay,” he said. “We’re still looking for Hank’s cell phone, too. You sure it was at his house?”

      She stared at her desk, lost in thought. “That’s what he told them, but if it’s there, it could be anywhere. Last time he lost it, he ended up finding it in his laundry hamper.” She paused. “But maybe he didn’t go straight home last night after his flight arrived... He has a girlfriend.”

      “What’s her name?” Kyle asked, just as Preston came in.

      “Frieda Martinez. He met her about two weeks before he left for Rota, Spain. She was good for him. Though he’d been irritable at work, his whole attitude would change whenever she called. I think he was falling in love with her, not that he would have ever admitted it.”

      She printed out the complete list of company employees, then handed it to Kyle. “Should I look around inside Hank’s office now to see if anything there catches my eye?”

      “Go ahead,” he said.

      “Those are the newest things in here,” she said, pointing. On top of Hank’s desk were two opened cardboard boxes he’d addressed to himself and mailed here from Spain.

      As Kyle came up and took a closer look, he recalled following Hank to a municipal post office in Rota. At the time that had struck him as odd because the base had excellent postal facilities. “Do you know what was inside these?”

      She shook her head. “They arrived yesterday, but they were addressed to Hank, so I just set them aside. When I came in this morning they were open, but we never had a chance to talk about it.”


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