Читать книгу The Agent's Surrender - Kimberly Van Meter - Страница 14
ОглавлениеReed Harris shook hands with his unexpected visitor, curious as to why Ulysses Rocha, one of the owners of Tessara Pharmaceuticals, had requested an audience. Ulysses, who, also with extensive military experience, had turned to the private sector for more lucrative opportunities; and in spite of the negative press incurred by the situation involving Penelope Granger, another high-profile shareholder, Tessara Pharm was still turning a substantial profit.
“Forgive me, but what is this about?” he asked, getting straight to the point. Ulysses, a barrel-chested man with eyes as hard as flint, cracked a smile that looked entirely out of place on his face, making Reed wonder what the hell was truly going on. “It isn’t every day that I receive requests for a meeting outside of certain circles.”
“I can appreciate that. As you know, Tessara Pharm has suffered a number of unfortunate events lately, most notably with one of our major founders, Penelope Granger, aka Penny Winslow, who was found guilty of running I.D. as her own personal hit squad through her association with Tom Wyatt.”
“Yes, I am aware,” Reed said. “Corruption is an equal-opportunity contaminant.”
“Yes, so it would seem. Tessara Pharm has suffered its fair share of bad press, and as such, we would be happy to leave all that sordid business in the past, as you can well imagine.”
“Of course.”
“So when we heard the case involving Miko Archangelo had been reopened, we were concerned how that might affect Tessara Pharm.”
Ah...the true reason for the visit. “These things happen. New evidence cropped up and we’re obligated to follow the trail wherever it may lead.”
“New evidence?” At Reed’s noncommittal nod, Ulysses frowned. “What possible new evidence could there be? Both Penny and Miko are dead and I.D. has been shut down.”
“Let’s put a pin in that question for a moment and draw attention to a question I have—how exactly do you have knowledge of a classified investigation? As far as I’m aware, Tessara Pharm is not on the executive payroll...or is it?”
A slow, cold smile spread across his face, as if amused that Reed was questioning him. That alone was enough to get the man thrown out, but something stayed Reed’s hand. Something wasn’t right and it wasn’t just that Ulysses was trying to pry information out of him.
The man cocked his head to the side. “Let’s just say that people in high places have expressed an interest in seeing that the Archangelo case remains closed. People need to be able to move on, Chief Harris. Surely you understand that?”
Reed didn’t like the man’s tone. A shiver of warning played “Taps” on his spine. He clasped his hands carefully atop his desk and waited. Again that cold smile appeared.
“There is no conspiracy,” Ulysses continued. “No big cover-up. Just businesspeople concerned that dredging up bad history will lead to a bad future for their bottom line. Shareholders are sensitive to fluctuations in their dividends. It’s our job to make sure those dips and valleys aren’t too sharp.”
“And it’s my job to make sure the security of our nation isn’t at risk,” Reed countered smoothly. “Frankly, I could give two shits about your shareholders’ bottom line, and you have some balls to come in here and expect me to dance to your tune just because you know a few people. Well, news flash...I know a few people, too.”
“I see.” Ulysses dropped the smile, which was fine by Reed; they both knew it was fake. “I guess it’ll have to come down to who knows the better people.”
He laughed. “I answer to the president. Who do you answer to? A bunch of entitled rich people? I think I win.”
Ulysses rose and adjusted his suit coat. “I’d hoped we could see eye to eye on this.”
“I don’t see how we could,” Reed said with frank amusement. “We seem to be on opposite continents.”
“So it would seem.”
Ulysses showed himself to the door and walked out without further comment. It wasn’t until Ulysses had left the building that Reed let out his held breath. Something foul was afoot. It would appear Holden was right; there was more to the story than met the eye. Was Miko simply a pawn in a bigger game? And if so, who was the true game master? The entire situation left a bad taste in his mouth, but he had no doubt if there was something to be found, Holden would find it.
Reed’s only fear? Miko had already paid for his involvement with his life. Reed sure as hell didn’t want his two best agents to pay the same price.
* * *
The Realtor, none too happy to be out in the blustery weather with two people who plainly weren’t going to be buying, opened the front door of the bar and stamped his feet free of the snow clinging to his boots. “Two floors. The upstairs was the office area.” He looked at his watch. “Do you know how long this is going to take?”
“You can wait in your car if you prefer,” Holden suggested and the Realtor was only too happy to take him up on his suggestion.
After the man had disappeared, Holden and Jane clicked on their flashlights, illuminating the dim interior. The bar had been closed for almost six months, but the stale smell of beer remained. Holden had visited a few times right after Miko purchased it. It was supposed to be the thing that kept him busy after retirement, he recalled, the memory springing to mind...
“A bar?” Holden had exclaimed as Miko drove them to the location for the first time. “You bought a bar?”
“Yeah, sounded like a good idea at the time,” Miko had said, grinning. “What could be better than being the proprietor of good times? I figure I might as well make a little money at the place where I most often frequent on my downtime, right?”
“Owning a bar is more than just free beer, Miko,” Holden had said, frowning. “It’s a huge responsibility.”
“Stop being such a wet blanket. Things are good. I’m no longer punching a clock and I’ve landed a pretty sweet side gig, so I can afford to lose money on the bar for years before I start to sweat. And if it gets to be too much of a pain in the ass, I’ll just unload it. So stop worrying.”
Holden had glanced around the bar, grudgingly noting the whiskey-soaked charm of the place, and he’d realized his brother could make a killing if managed properly. But Miko was all about the good time, not the profit margin. He had thought then that even if Miko put minimal effort into the bar, it’d still turn a profit, which had been reassuring. Good location, clean but not too pristine, with a lived-in, comfortable feel. Like the bar in that show Cheers. Where everyone knew your name. He had looked to Miko, who had still been awaiting his opinion, and said with a smile, “Tell me about this side gig.” Miko had just shaken his head and hooked his arm around Holden’s shoulders.
“First, we celebrate. Life is good, my brother. Life is good.”
As Miko’s voice faded from Holden’s memory, his eyes stung. “You okay?” Jane asked, peering at him. “You look as if you’re going to cry.”
“I’m fine,” he said roughly, heading toward the staircase, then taking the steps two at a time. He detoured to the left and opened the door to Miko’s private office with Jane on his heels. To her credit, she didn’t pester him to share his feelings, and he was grateful. His grief over the death of his twin was something he kept close to his heart and covered with plenty of layers—he didn’t have the luxury of breaking down. The hardwood floor creaked beneath their feet and echoed in the nearly empty room. Everything of value had been stripped from the walls and sold at auction. Only Miko’s desk remained for staging purposes. A small, high window let in cold, milky light, but the gloom in the room seemed to seep into Holden’s bones. A sense of danger clung to the shadows, and he pushed the disquieting sensation away so he could focus.
It seemed he wasn’t the only one keying in on the weirdness in the room. “The mind plays tricks on you when you know someone died violently in the space you’re in,” Jane said, rubbing at her arms and shivering inside her thick jacket. “But even still, this place is giving me the creeps. Can we get on with it before hypothermia hits?” She glanced around with irritation. “I don’t even know what we’re looking for.”
“Anything.”
“Well, thank you for that completely unhelpful direction.” She gestured to the still room. “Nothing’s here. Everything’s been cleaned out, either to sell or to put into evidence.”
She wasn’t saying anything that Holden couldn’t see for himself, but his gut told him that something was here. Show me, Miko. If you’re in this room, watching me stumble around in the dark...give me something to go on....
He crossed to the desk and began opening the drawers, the old wood scraping against the rollers with a screech. A few pens rolled out along with a puff of dust and an assortment of discarded paper clips. He picked up one of the pens and shone the light on the lettering. Tessara Pharm. Not surprising, since it had been discovered Penelope Granger, aka Penny Winslow, was the one pulling the strings. He pocketed the pen and closed the drawer.
Jane caught the movement and moved toward him. “What’s that and why are you putting it in your pocket?”
“Calm down. It’s a pen.”
“Why are you taking it?”
“Because I am.”
She let it go, which was good. He didn’t know why he had scooped up the pen, either. “Where’s it from?” she asked.
“Tessara Pharm.”
“Ugh. That place leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Big pharm companies are usually up to no good, in my opinion.”
“Yeah, I hear you,” he agreed, moving to the next drawer and opening it. Empty. He slid his hand along the edge of the bottom, looking for anything that his brother might’ve hidden, but nothing aside from wood met his fingers. Dropping to his knees, he flashed the light beneath the desk, checking for evidence of a false bottom, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He rose with sharp disappointment, feeling as if he were missing what was right in front of him.
He thought Jane sensed his disappointment, though for a long moment, she didn’t say anything. “I understand—” she began, and he immediately cut her off.
“You don’t understand, and don’t patronize me with your attempt,” he said brusquely, moving away from the desk and flashing the light into the corners of the room.
“I’m just trying to help,” she muttered.
“Yeah, well, help by looking. There’s something here. I can feel it.”
“Great—another gut instinct. Does your gut give a clue as to where exactly we should be looking, because all I see is a sad empty room that’s as cold as a storage locker.”
Frustration built under his breastbone. “Hell, I don’t know,” he said, walking slowly over the floorboards to listen for minute changes. He walked into the small supply closet and flashed the light around. Nothing but empty shelves and dust. He stamped the floor, listening for a sound change. He explained when he caught Jane watching him with a question in her gaze. “When Miko and I were kids, we would hide things in the floorboards of our old house. We were always trying to hide alcohol or important stuff from our old man, who was a raging alcoholic. When he was sober, he was an okay dad, but when he drank...let’s just say he made living hard.” He didn’t know if Miko had held on to the habit, but it was worth a shot.
“How often did your dad drink?” she asked.
“Only on the days that ended in Y.”
“Sorry.” She seemed to mean it. “So what’d you hide?”
“Anything we didn’t want him to sell or break. Sometimes we hid money, too. Otherwise, our dad would drink it all away and we’d have nothing left for food.”
“That’s rough.”
He shrugged. “Everyone’s got a sob story, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“How about yours? I can only go from what I know firsthand, but your dad seems like a piece of work. Couldn’t have been easy growing up with The Major.”
“Oh, is this sharing time?” She lifted her brow. When he hiked his shoulder, she shook her head, not ready to reciprocate. “Let’s just focus on the task at hand, all right?”
“I’m curious.... How happy was your dad when you broke things off with me? He probably threw a ticker-tape parade.”
“My dad doesn’t like showy extravagances,” she answered, flashing her light along the ceiling, looking anywhere but at Holden. “And he’d never do anything that gave anyone the impression you mattered in the overall scheme of things.”
“What was his problem? As far as I know, I never pissed in his cornflakes.”
“Are we doing this now?” she asked, annoyed. “It’s in the past and we’re here to do a job. Story hour will have to wait.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and continued to slowly pan the floor. Why was he looking for answers to a mystery that didn’t need solving? Who cares if some self-important asshole didn’t think he was good enough for his daughter? “But here’s the thing, you dropped me like a bad habit all because Daddy said so. Frankly, Fallon, I thought you had bigger balls than that.”
She stopped and met his gaze. “My balls, or lack thereof, are none of your business. Can we please stick to the task at hand, or would you rather pull up a chair and start a counseling session? I should warn you, I’m all out of tissues.”
“You’re a piece of work. You did me a favor,” he muttered, unable to believe he’d opened his mouth in the first place. “Forget I mentioned it.”
“Already have.”
Damn, he was stupid ten times over for bringing up ancient history at the worst possible time. But sometimes his mouth just took over and he had to run to catch up. Sort of like the day he’d taken it upon himself to have a talk with The Major. Yeah, that’d ended in all sorts of bad. He supposed good intentions didn’t mean crap in the Fallon household. Holden’s first real, solid relationship had gone down in flames all because some crotchety five-starred major general had really messed up ideals and expectations for his only daughter.
Holden looked at Jane. “You know, I feel sorry for you.” Jane regarded him with a wary expression, but he continued. “Yeah, I do, because you’re constantly looking for Daddy’s approval and you’ve obviously never seen the movie before. Well, I have, and I can tell you—it never ends the way you want it to. Your dad is an overbearing prick and he’ll never give you what you’re looking—no, begging—for, yet you’ll sacrifice everything in your life for that one tiny nugget of approval from a man who ought to just love you for who you are. And it’s sad, Fallon. Really sad.”
She swallowed audibly and he knew he’d hit a nerve, but in true Fallon style, she didn’t bend or show weakness. “Are you finished?” she asked in a husky tone that immediately made him feel like a toad. What the hell was wrong with him? He should’ve just left it alone. What did it matter what her issues with her dad were? They didn’t affect him any longer. Jane was free to live under her father’s thumb if she chose.
He waved her off. “Forget it. I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m sorry...that was out of line. I guess I’m just on edge.”
“Sure.” She accepted his apology with a stiff nod and walked away as they both continued to search the office.
After ten minutes, Holden rose with a muttered expletive. “You’re right, nothing’s here.”
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Jane said, heading for the door. Although she had a reputation for being a hard-nosed investigator, she was plainly happy to get out of the room. Seemed Jane wasn’t immune to the heebie-jeebies.
Holden took one final look at his brother’s office, trying not to picture him sprawled across his desk with the back of his head shot off. Nathan had said in his statement that moments prior to Miko eating that bullet, he had told Nathan to dig deeper into Tessara Pharm. Nathan Isaacs, one of Miko’s best friends and fellow snipers formerly employed by the now-defunct I.D., had managed to peel back a layer of corruption within the covert government agency, but he’d nearly died in the process.
Holden caught up with Jane on the stairs. “I didn’t see any mention of Tessara Pharm in your report aside from the brief notation about Winslow. Didn’t you ask any questions regarding Miko’s involvement with the pharm company?”
“What involvement? Winslow was the only connection to Tessara Pharm, and she’s dead, which I noted in my report.”
“The last thing my brother said to Nathan Isaacs was for him to look deeper into Tessara. Don’t you think that warrants a look?”
“He said that before Isaacs took down Winslow. Trust me, that was the only connection. You don’t get government contracts without being thoroughly vetted. Tessara is clean.”
He didn’t believe it. Miko wouldn’t have said that if that were the case. “I’d like to poke around Tessara, but first I want to talk to Nathan again and see if he left anything out of his statement.”
“Such as?” Jane asked, frowning. “Are you saying that Isaacs could’ve withheld evidence?”
“No. But maybe he forgot some details. It’s not as if Nathan didn’t get caught up in some hairy shit, too. Winslow almost won that fight. Nathan was in ICU for weeks recovering from a bullet wound to the gut, and that’s no cakewalk.”
“I read the file. Even bleeding out, he managed to take a beating from Winslow before killing her. Impressive,” she admitted. “Nathan Isaacs is a bit of a badass.”
Yeah, it was true. He wouldn’t steal Nathan’s thunder just because the sudden admirable light in Jane’s eyes caused a spurt of jealousy from out of nowhere. So instead, he said, “He’s a good man. One of the best.”
Jane nodded, and it was apparent he’d caused the wheels to start moving, which was a good thing. He’d rather have her working with him than against. “Fine, we can talk to Isaacs, but everything is going on the record. I don’t want anyone using the excuse they won’t talk unless they have anonymity.”
“Sometimes you have to bend the rules, Fallon,” he told her, giving her no such promise. When lives were at stake, sometimes regs went out the window. He’d do whatever it took to get the real answers, and that included twisting the rules into a pretzel.
“You’re impossible to work with,” she groused under her breath as they walked into the main room. The bar was off to the right, and a pool table stood, dejected and forgotten, on the left. Jane noticed the table and said, “I’m surprised they didn’t immediately sell that at auction.”
“Me, too,” he said, frowning. Everything of value had been stripped from the bar, including Miko’s collectible tap handles he’d purchased for a steal on eBay. Holden strode to the pool table and ran his palm over the familiar green felt. He and Miko had played many games on this table and wagered more money than they should’ve because they were both so damn competitive. A smile tugged at his mouth at the memory. “Miko was a terrible pool player but a great cheater. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d found a way to slant the table to his advantage. He didn’t even deny the fact he didn’t play fair. The sucker was always taking me for a couple hundred every time we played.”
“So much for that honor you were talking about,” she quipped drily, and Holden shook his head.
“No, it wasn’t like that. He considered any competition fair game. Second place is first loser. C’mon, Fallon, you can’t tell me you don’t feel the same.”
“True,” she agreed grudgingly. “But I don’t condone cheating of any kind. If you can’t win on your own merits, you don’t deserve to win.”
He grunted a concession and bent down to inspect the ball return. “Maybe it’s broken and they figured whoever bought the place could either throw it away or have it repaired.” He felt along the track. The balls gleamed in the dim light, a reminder of better times. He pulled three quarters from his pocket and slid them into the coin return, pushing it in, but the coins slid back out, answering that question. “Yeah, it’s broken,” he said, reaching underneath to feel along the underside. The pads of his fingers found a tiny button and he stopped, motioning for Jane to bring the light. “I feel something...a button of some sort. I don’t know much about pool tables, but I can’t imagine why there’d be a button underneath the table.” Jane came closer and bent to peer beneath the table with the light. “You see anything?”
“That’s odd,” she agreed. “Press it and see what happens.”
“Famous last words,” Holden quipped with a grin and she grimaced at his humor. But soon neither were laughing because suddenly a hidden door released and a taped manila envelope dropped to the floor. “What the... Miko, you crafty son of a bitch...”
“What the hell is that?” Jane asked, the cold forgotten and her eyes trained on the envelope. “Why would your brother hide something in the pool table?”
“Because no one would think to look there,” he answered with pride for his brother’s smarts. “Good one, bro.”
“That’s evidence,” she said, moving to stop him before he ripped open the package. “We should give it to the forensics team and let them determine what’s inside.”
“Screw that. My brother put it there. I’m sure of it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because of the way it’s taped. Miko always wrapped envelopes with three strips of tape with a crisscross at the back so he’d know if anyone else tried to read his mail and then reseal it.”
“Weird...but okay. We should still give it to forensics.”
“Whatever is in this envelope is not leaving my hot little hands.” He tucked the envelope into the interior pocket of his jacket, and after one final sweep of the bar, he headed for the door, satisfied they’d found all that would be of use to them there. “Let’s go before we turn into popsicles.”
“You’re seriously not going to turn that envelope over to the proper authorities?”
“Nope. As far as I’m concerned, the proper authorities haven’t done a good enough job to earn my trust with this case. And that definitely includes you.”
She glared, but he didn’t care. “You make it really hard to like you,” she finally said.
He grinned. “That’s okay, honey. I ain’t looking for a dinner date. C’mon, let’s go someplace secure and see what my brother kept squirreled away.”
His hands were frozen, but his heart was lighter than it’d been in months. Finally, a break. Thank God for Miko’s penchant for hiding things. It was oddly comforting to know that even though Miko had changed, some things had remained the same.
