Читать книгу Undercover Warrior - Aimee Thurlo - Страница 13

Chapter Four

“A word?”

Kyle recognized Preston’s icy tone and knew what was bothering him. Preston seldom missed much. Despite that, he decided to play it out. “What’s up?” he asked, stepping away from the SUV.

“Don’t give me that bull,” Preston growled. “What did you find in the box, and why the hell didn’t you turn it over? NCIS has given us the job of processing evidence, and it’s not up to you to pick and choose. Are we working together or not?”

“Your department’s cooperation is crucial, but I have to treat what I found as classified for reasons of national security. You in?”

Preston nodded.

Putting his latex gloves back on, Kyle pulled the small device he’d found inside the box out of his pocket. “I really doubt there’ll be any usable prints on this, except maybe Leland’s partial, but based on the markings this is an electrical detonator manufactured in Spain. You can’t get hold of something this sensitive in the U.S. without shoveling through a truckload of grief, and maybe not even then.”

“So that’s why you want to search Leland’s place ASAP. You think he shipped detonators hidden in those dismantled electronics and overlooked this one.”

“So now we need to find the rest of them,” Kyle said.

“How long have you had Hank Leland under surveillance?”

“Since he was spotted in Rota, Spain, meeting with a man on the watch list, a freelance bomb maker with ties to Spanish ecoterrorist groups. That was two weeks ago. I watched him land at the airport last night, get his luggage and pick up his Silverado. After that I followed him to his office. He stayed here for a while, which I suppose is when he unpacked the box, took the tools apart, and found the detonators.”

“Where’d he go next?”

“He got into his pickup and headed home, which is ten miles south, off highway 281. He took the old road so I had to give him plenty of room. It was pretty much deserted that time of night, and his house is all by itself out there.”

Preston nodded. “I know. I checked. You can spot vehicles for miles.”

“Once he got home, he pulled into the garage and never left again. No other vehicles drove up, either. I maintained surveillance until 3:30 a.m., then drove back into town and checked into the Chamisa Lodge. After catching a few hours’ sleep, I returned to his place at 6:00 a.m. There were lights on inside—still no other vehicles—and there was only one set of tracks leading into the property. Leland left for work at seven, and was still there when I went to meet you for breakfast.”

“So, let’s assume these terrorists are looking for their detonators. What’s their target?”

“I don’t know and that’s a problem,” Kyle said.

“Let’s go to Leland’s house and look around for his cell. We need to find out who he called after his return,” Preston said. “I’ll also get hold of Joe Pacheco. He’s a former police detective, and keeping his eyes and ears open is second nature to him.”

“Don’t ask him about the detonators directly,” Kyle warned.

Preston got the number from Erin and dialed as Kyle walked over to where she was waiting.

“We’re still working out a few details,” Kyle told her. “We’ll leave in a minute.”

After his call, Preston motioned Kyle over. “I asked Joe about the type of explosives used by Secure Construction. He said they use a proprietary mix of ammonium nitrate, but they pick it up from Zia Limited as needed. He also said that they use fuses and blasting caps instead of electrical detonators.”

“All right, let’s get rolling,” Kyle said, started to walk away, then stopped and looked back. “Anything on either of the dead kidnappers?”

“Nothing yet. The Office of the Medical Investigator processed their fingerprints, but there’s nothing on record—they’re ghosts. We’re using facial recognition software and running that through the database, and checking with Interpol, but it’ll take time. I have a feeling they’re foreign nationals—Spanish, most likely, for obvious reasons. The truck they used for the hit on the ambulance was stolen and they avoided cameras at that intersection. One more thing. The one who shot himself...those bruises on his face predated his death by at least a week. That’s based on the medical investigator’s preliminary report.”

“Get Daniel up to speed on this. He’s got clearance,” Kyle said.

Daniel Hawk, their foster brother, owned the largest security firm in the Four Corners. Level One Security protected more than half the high profile businesses and state government installations in Northern New Mexico.

“Once we identify the terrorist group we’re dealing with, Daniel may be able to suggest possible targets in this area—facilities or personnel,” Kyle said.

“Good plan.”

“I’ll take Erin over to Leland’s house. Let’s see if on the way there, I can get her to tell me something we don’t already know.”

* * *

THOUGH KYLE’S GAZE was on the road ahead, he was aware of everything about the woman beside him. Erin intrigued him. She accepted her own vulnerabilities instead of trying to conceal her fears, and held it together when it mattered.

Hearing the incoming-call tone, Kyle glanced at the phone display and saw Preston’s name. He connected the call and said, “I’m here.”

“I just got a report from the officer watching Leland’s residence. Someone drove up and slipped inside through the back. I told the officer to wait for backup unless the suspect gets back into his vehicle and tries to leave.”

Kyle pressed down on the accelerator. “Back up your officer and cover the rear. I’ll take the front and block the driveway.”

After he ended the call, he glanced over at her. “When we get there, stay inside the SUV and duck down. This thing is built like one of your safe rooms, and no one can get in once it’s locked.”

“IRS, huh? I don’t think so,” she muttered. “Who are you, really?”

“Your best friend while this investigation is ongoing.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“You saw my badge and you know the Hartley P.D. trusts me. That’s all you need.” He made a hard left that had her groping for the armrest.

“How long have you lived in this area?” he asked Erin as they were forced to slow down almost to a crawl. Up ahead, several steers had wandered up to the shoulder and were eating tall grass fed by runoff. Two ranchers were busy trying to get the animals back through an open gate into a pasture.

“Practically all my life,” Erin answered. “There’s plenty of work, with all the oil and gas companies. I earn a decent salary, so with luck, in a few years I’ll have the stake I need.”

“To do what?” He moved to the right shoulder, eased past the men and the cattle, then was able to pick up speed again.

She sat back in her seat, adjusting to the sudden acceleration.

“I’m going to buy some decent farmland and grow chiles,” she said. “I’ve got a green thumb, and love getting my hands dirty and working with the soil. Farming...that’s my dream. One day it’ll be more than that—it’ll be a fact.”

There’d been no wavering and, for a moment or two, she’d reminded him of himself. He’d worked hard to get to where he was. Nothing had ever come easy, but he’d stuck to his dream and achieved what he’d set out to do. He had a feeling she would, too.

“Hang on!” Kyle made a sharp turn to the right off the highway, through an open gate and down a gravel lane.

Her eyes widened. “Are you trying to kill us?”

“Relax, I’ve got this.”

“And you expect me to believe you’re an accountant? Sure, and there’s a glacier in that arroyo over there,” she grumbled.

He didn’t answer, but slowed even further as the road narrowed into a pothole-ridden pathway. Ahead, he could see the fading rooster tail of dust trailing behind Preston’s vehicle.

Kyle slid to a stop behind the Ford pickup, which had been backed up and parked in front of the garage, its tailgate next to the overhead door.

“He’s blocked off now. Grab my keys out of the ignition, and lock up,” Kyle said, jumping out.

She reached for the keys just as he shut the door.

Hand on the butt of his holstered weapon, Kyle raced toward the front porch in a crouch, looking through the windows of the single-story ranch-style home. If anyone opened the garage door, he’d hear it and turn back.

Stepping silently onto the porch, he opened the screen door, then reached for his lock pick.

Just then he heard a click and the door swung open. Kyle found himself face-to-face with a big man wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap.

Kyle slipped halfway inside before the intruder could shut the door. Pinned for a second, Kyle gave it all he had and shoved. As the heavy door flew open, the man stumbled backward across the foyer. He bounced off a small deacon’s bench and fell to the floor, losing his sunglasses.

The intruder recovered quickly, scrambling to his feet and racing toward a door just beyond the kitchen area.

That door suddenly opened and Preston moved in, another officer right behind him.

“Damn.” The man ducked left toward a long hall.

Kyle dove across an easy chair and tackled the big guy waist-high. They both fell to the floor of the hall, Kyle on top.

“Police!” Preston yelled, running over. “Give it up!”

Kyle pinned the guy’s arms and placed his forearm at the man’s throat. Up close now, with no sunglasses and the intruder’s cap lost in the struggle, the face looked eerily familiar.

As the uniformed officer moved in and placed the man in handcuffs, Preston read him his rights. He then checked the man’s wallet for an ID. “You’re Bruce Leland, Hank’s brother?”

“Yeah, and I’ve got a right to be here. Call Hank, he’ll tell you. Get these cuffs off me before I press charges.”

Preston nodded to the officer, and as Bruce was uncuffed, Kyle focused on the man’s face. The photo on file looked much younger, but it was the same man.

“Bruce!” Kyle heard Erin’s voice behind him.

Kyle glanced at her. “I told you to stay in the SUV.”

“Once I saw the window sticker for casino parking, I realized who you were chasing.” She glared at Bruce. “What do you think you’re doing, breaking into your brother’s house?”

“I just came to return that power drill,” he said, gesturing to the one next to a bookcase under construction. “I didn’t have my keys, but I remembered Hank told me that all the back door needed was a credit card in the lock and a good shove.”

Kyle glanced at the drill, noting the handle was dusty. From the looks of it, it hadn’t been touched in weeks.

Bruce gave Erin a quizzical look. “What are you doing here, Erin? Don’t tell me you saw my pickup and called the cops?”

“No,” Erin said, but before she could say more, Kyle interrupted.

“We need to speak to you, Mr. Leland.”

“Who’s we?” he asked, fear making his voice rise.

Preston flashed his badge, and Kyle did the same.

“You’ve got a gold badge,” he said, looking at Kyle. “What are you, FBI?”

Kyle didn’t answer. “We need to search your truck. You can give us permission or we can get a warrant while you remain in custody. Your choice.”

“Go ahead, search all you want.” He looked back at Erin. “What’s going on?”

“Mr. Leland, we have some bad news for you about your brother,” Preston said.

Kyle saw the fleeting, panicked look Bruce gave Erin. Maybe they were both involved in what was happening. Hadn’t she mentioned needing money for her future?

Too many questions, not enough answers. He intended to fix that—and soon.