Читать книгу Killer Exposure - Lara Lacombe - Страница 12
ОглавлениеHe was quiet as they started out for ChemCure Industries. It was a quality that Hannah appreciated, as she wasn’t much of a talker herself. Over the years, she’d learned that most people weren’t comfortable with silence, and would chatter on about anything and everything in an attempt to fill the void. Very rarely, she would come across another person who didn’t mind the quiet, and she always enjoyed spending time with them. It was exhausting trying to come up with small talk with someone she didn’t know very well. Apparently, Detective Randall felt the same way, and her estimation of him went up a notch or two.
What made it even better was the quality of the silence. It wasn’t the cold, closed-off sensation that came from being ignored. Nor was it the awkward, prickly feeling she got when there were things to be said but neither person knew how to start. This was the cozy, peaceful silence of familiarity, which was strange, seeing as how they’d just met yesterday.
It was odd, feeling so comfortable around a relative stranger. It usually took Hannah weeks, if not months, to let down her guard after meeting someone new. But there was something about him that made her feel safe and secure, protected even. It was a comforting sensation, and it gave her the courage to consider approaching him when his case was resolved. He didn’t seem the type to be put off by a smart woman, and it would be nice to go out on a date again.
Hannah’s stomach fluttered, and she cast a sidelong glance at Detective Randall, wondering if he could sense the direction of her thoughts. His expression was relaxed as he navigated Houston’s permanent traffic. The intensity she’d first noticed about him was banked but still there, lurking under the surface. This was a man who was passionate about his job, that much was clear. Would he apply that same passion to his relationships?
Doesn’t matter, she thought, shivering slightly. This isn’t the time to ask him out. She ran her hands briskly over her arms, trying to rub away the goose bumps.
“Cold?” His deep voice cut through the silence, making her jump. He reached over with one hand to adjust the knobs on the dash, and the airflow slowed. “I always crank it into the subzero range when I’m in the car. I forget not everyone likes to be frozen out.”
“It’s okay,” she said, offering him a smile. “I’d rather be cold than hot.”
“Me, too.” He grinned back, dimples winking from his stubbled cheeks. Hannah’s breath caught in her throat. Oh, my. With a smile like that, he had to have a trail of drooling women following him around.
He returned his focus to the road, and Hannah swallowed hard, determined to ignore the residual zings arcing through her system.
“We should be there soon,” he said.
Hannah glanced around at the parking lot that was I-45. “Uh-huh,” she said. “Don’t you think that’s rather optimistic?”
“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “Why don’t you tell me about ChemCure Industries while we wait.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Were you the only one working with nitrogen mustard compounds?”
She shook her head. “No, I was one of a team. There were five of us working on this particular project.”
“Only five?” He frowned slightly. “I thought this was a big company—wouldn’t the working group have been larger?”
“ChemCure Industries is a large company,” she explained. “But there are multiple divisions in the company, and each division worked on different projects. I worked in one of the chemotherapy divisions, and that division was further divided into smaller teams. My team worked on the aerosolized nitrogen mustard project, while other teams worked on drug discovery or other delivery projects.”
“I see. Who was the head of your team?”
“Ah. That would be me.” He cut her a glance, one eyebrow raised, and she shifted slightly under the scrutiny. “I was the senior scientist on the project.”
“What were your responsibilities?”
“I essentially steered the direction of the research. I designed experiments for the techs to complete, and used the data collected to guide the next steps.”
“Did you do any experiments yourself?”
She shrugged. “Some. But not as many as the techs.”
“So the techs would have the most access to the compounds?”
Hannah considered the question. “Yes. But they’re not the only ones. The division manager, Marcia Foley, would also have access, as would anyone else who walked into the lab.”
He jerked his head around to face her, his brows lifted and eyes wide with shock. “Are you telling me that the dangerous chemicals you worked with weren’t under some kind of restricted access?”
She frowned back at him, puzzled by his reaction. “There wasn’t a need.”
“How is that even safe?”
“Well,” she began, struggling to find the words to explain lab culture to an outsider. “We didn’t advertise what we were working with, so it was unlikely anyone outside the team really knew what chemicals we had in the lab. Besides,” she said, stalling his objection, “it’s considered very poor form, not to mention dangerous, for someone to walk into your lab and start rooting around.”
“And I suppose everyone in the company obeyed this unspoken rule?” His tone made it clear exactly what he thought of that arrangement, and she bristled slightly at the underlying accusation.
“I certainly never saw someone enter the lab without an escort.”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” he said, a little more gently. “But you weren’t there 24/7. Isn’t it possible someone could have gained access to the chemicals without your knowledge?”
The cars in the lane next to them began to move, and the detective merged smoothly into the stream. “I guess it’s possible,” she admitted, taking a deep breath as they rolled past the rows of vehicles. “But we kept detailed records—who accessed the chemicals, how much they used, for what experiments, that kind of thing. That way, we could always account for where the chemicals went.”
“And are you certain those records were well maintained after you left the company?” He let the suggestion hang between them as he drove.
Before the accident, Hannah would have said yes without any hesitation. But it was someone else’s mistake, someone else’s sloppy science that had nearly gotten her killed. She had trusted her coworkers without reservation, and it had nearly cost her her life.
Her hand moved up reflexively to touch her scars before she remembered Gabby’s warning. She dropped the offending limb into her lap and glanced at Detective Randall from the corner of her eye, but he kept his gaze on the road ahead. If he’d noticed her gesture, he gave no indication of it.
“Anything is possible,” she said softly.
“Did anyone show a particular interest in your project and the compounds you worked with?”
She scrunched her brows together as she considered his question. “Not that I recall. Sorry,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
“Why are you apologizing to me?” A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth, and an answering warmth kindled to life in her chest.
“I feel bad that I’m not more help to you,” she explained.
He let out a quick huff of a laugh. “Believe me, you’ve been a great help. More than what I’m used to getting. I really appreciate you coming with me today.”
She felt her face warm, and hoped she wasn’t blushing too darkly. She fought the urge to squirm in her seat with embarrassed pleasure, and instead turned her head to focus on the scenery zipping by her window. “I’m happy to assist in any way I can,” she said.
After clearing the initial snarl of traffic, it didn’t take long to arrive at ChemCure Industries’s gates. Hannah’s stomach twisted when they pulled into the visitorsʼ lane and Detective Randall rolled down his window. She hadn’t been here since the accident, and the once-familiar beige buildings now seemed forbidding and cold.
A security guard walked over to the car. “Can I help you?”
Detective Randall removed his badge and showed it to the officer. “We’re here to see Marcia Foley.”
The guard frowned. “Do you have an appointment?”
Detective Randall shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Wait here, please. I’ll see if she’s available.” The guard walked back to his post and picked up a phone.
“She won’t see us, Detective,” Hannah said. “Marcia Foley is the living, breathing definition of control freak. She has to be in charge, and she won’t want to meet with you unless she can plan it well in advance.”
He turned to look at her fully. “That’s quite a character analysis,” he said drily.
Hannah shrugged. “I worked with the woman for five years. You learn a lot about a person in that time.”
“True enough,” he murmured. He was quiet for a beat, then shrugged, as if he was shaking himself free of memories. “I appreciate the heads-up. And since we’ll be working together for the foreseeable future, why don’t you just call me Owen and I’ll call you Hannah.” He flashed another one of those heart-stopping grins, and she found herself nodding dumbly in response.
Get it together, she chided herself. One smile, and you turn into a bobblehead doll!
The security guard walked over and leaned down to address them. “I’m sorry, but Ms. Foley is gone for the day. You’ll have to make an appointment and come back another time.”
Owen turned and shot her a questioning look. Does she leave early?
Hannah shook her head.
Owen turned back to the guard. “That’s fine,” he said. He leaned over and pulled out a small notepad and pen from the center console. “In the meantime, I’m going to need your name and address.”
The guard frowned at him. “Why?”
Owen didn’t bother to look up, but instead kept his gaze on the small book as he flipped through to find a clean page. “I’m going to issue you a citation for interfering in my investigation.”
“But...” the guard sputtered. “You can’t be serious!”
Owen did look up then, his pen poised above the page. “Try me.”
“But I haven’t done anything!”
“You’re preventing me from doing my job, and I have a real problem with that.” Owen cocked his head to the side, studying the man. “Tell me something. Is protecting her worth your job? Because I don’t think the company will look too kindly on this infraction. The State of Texas and the City of Houston tend to come down pretty hard on people who interfere in a murder investigation.”
The guard went pale under his tan. “Murder?” he whispered.
“That’s what I said. Now, your name?”
The man took a step back. “Uh, listen. I was just trying to do my job, you understand? I call, they tell me who can come in.”
“Sure.”
“But since you’re a cop and all, I should probably follow your instructions.”
The corner of Owen’s mouth twitched, but he kept his smile hidden. “That seems like a good idea to me.”
Hannah watched this exchange with a growing sense of amusement and admiration. Owen could have gotten bent out of shape and angry at the guard’s initial refusal to let them pass, but instead of trying to bully the man into cooperating, he’d used calm reason and a touch of intimidation. It was a potent combination, as evidenced by the guard’s babbled apology-cum-explanation as he lifted the gate and waved them through.
Hannah waited until they’d cleared the checkpoint before turning to look at Owen. “Were you really going to arrest him?”
“No,” he replied, pulling smoothly into a parking space. “But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Then he winked at her, triggering an electric wave of awareness through her system.
Hannah shook her head as she climbed out of the car. Not only did the detective have a sexy grin, but he winked at people, too? It just wasn’t fair.
The more she saw of his personality, the more she felt drawn to him. It was going to be hard for her to keep her attraction to him under wraps until his case was closed.
But it was for the best.
* * *
It was obvious she didn’t want to be here. With her arms wrapped tightly around her waist and the thin lines of strain fanning from the corners of her mouth, she looked absolutely miserable. It was clear that no matter what she’d told him about amicable partings, Hannah was haunted by something at ChemCure Industries.
But what? And did it possibly tie in to his investigation?
If she’d discovered something amiss, it was entirely possible the company had acted quickly to silence her. They may have offered her money to buy her off, tried to legally tie her hands so she couldn’t report her suspicions to the authorities.
He glanced at her while they walked down the hall. No, he thought, dismissing that notion. Whatever else she may be, Hannah Baker was not the type of person to stand by when a wrong was being done. She hadn’t hesitated to jump in and offer assistance when she discovered the topic of his investigation. That wasn’t the action of a woman who was legally bound to remain silent. Besides, if the company was doing something wrong, they couldn’t force her to keep quiet. No court would uphold a company-issued gag order where illegal or immoral activities were concerned.
Why, then, did she look as if she’d seen a ghost?
She slowed, and he adjusted his pace accordingly. “Do you mind if I just duck in here?” She pointed to the restroom door. “It took a little longer than I thought to get here.”
“No problem,” he replied. “Take your time.”
She emerged a few minutes later, a bit more color on her cheeks. She’d applied lipstick, too, he noticed. Her mouth had a faint pink sheen to it, as though she’d just eaten ripe berries. A wave of lust slammed into him and he rocked forward, wanting to find out if her lips tasted as good as they looked.
Her eyes widened when she met his gaze, but there was no fear in her expression. Encouraged, he leaned closer, gratified to hear the soft hiss of her indrawn breath. She feels it, too.
This close, he could see her pulse beating, faster and faster under the delicate skin of her neck. He licked his lips, wanting to put the tip of his tongue just there, to feel the thrum of her excitement as he tasted the salty tang of her skin. His own heart rate kicked up a notch in response, and he sucked in a deep breath, trying to rein in his body’s automatic response to being close to such a beautiful woman.
Not here.
Owen jerked back, shaking his head to clear the fog of arousal that had threatened to obscure his better judgment. Hannah watched him, her hazel eyes a swirl of blue and green and yellow. He could get lost in those eyes, if he let himself.
“Sorry about that,” he muttered, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. The short strands tickled his palm, chasing away the last of his lust and redirecting his focus to the job.
She offered him a shy smile. “Don’t worry about it.” There was a wistful note to her voice, as if she was disappointed that the moment had passed.
Not knowing what to say, Owen held up his arm. “Shall we?”
She nodded, but before they could take a step, a loud voice rang out.
“Hannah Baker, is that you?”
Hannah froze in place, and he could tell by the way her shoulders tensed that whoever this new woman was, she wasn’t happy to see her.
“Oh my gosh, it is you! How have you been? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you!” The newcomer, a plump woman who appeared to be in her forties, approached and threw her arms around Hannah, then drew back, beaming. “You know, I was just thinking about you the other day. Tim and I were wondering what happened to you after the accident, hoping you were okay. You are okay, aren’t you? I mean, it was just horrible, that fire—”
“I’m fine, thanks,” Hannah cut in. She aimed a pained smile at the woman and indicated Owen. “Let me introduce you to my friend. Shelly Newman, meet Owen Randall. Owen, this is Shelly. She’s a former coworker.”
“Nice to meet you,” Owen said, offering his hand. He was grateful Hannah had introduced him as a friend and not a detective. Shelly appeared to be a bit of a gossip, and if she knew the real reason he was here, it would be all over the building before they’d even made it to Marcia’s office.
Shelly gave him a quick once-over before turning her focus back to Hannah. She pushed a wayward curl out of her brown eyes and reached up to pat Hannah’s shoulder. “It just hasn’t been the same around here since your accident. We all miss you so much. Did you come to see the new lab? They totally renovated it after the explosion—brand-new everything. You can’t even tell!” She sounded so proud, like a mom bragging about her kid’s latest accomplishment.
Owen felt his brows raise and fought to keep his expression neutral. Had Hannah been involved in some kind of explosion? It sounded like it, if Shelly’s ramblings were to be believed. The woman prattled on, oblivious to Hannah’s strained expression and Owen’s presence. He listened closely, absorbing all the news and piecing it together to make a complete picture.
Apparently, Hannah’s lab had been ruined due to a lab accident a few years ago—“Just terrible! You should have seen the aftermath—glass everywhere. I thought they were never going to find all the little pieces.” Evidently, Hannah had been injured, although Shelly didn’t seem to know how severe her injuries were. She kept asking Hannah leading questions, clearly hoping Hannah would fill in the blanks for her and give her a juicy story to share. But Hannah didn’t cooperate, instead replying with monosyllabic replies and nodding. Undeterred, Shelly pressed on.
Owen narrowed his eyes when Hannah reached up to fiddle with her shirt. She tugged at the collar, pulling it up to cover more of her neck. Her injuries, he realized. She must have scars. Shelly had mentioned a fire—had Hannah been burned?
He mentally winced at the thought. He’d seen a few burn victims in his time on the job. Nasty stuff, and painful as hell, from what he’d heard. His heart clenched at the thought of Hannah suffering like that.
Had she left the company because of the accident? She wouldn’t be the first person to shy away from returning to work after an injury. If the accident had been severe—and from what Shelly was saying, it had been—it made sense that Hannah wouldn’t want to keep working in a lab. A pay cut like the one she’d taken was nothing compared to peace of mind.
“I’m on my way out the door. I have to pick up Jeffrey for soccer practice, but it was so good to see you!” Shelly went in for another hug, and Hannah shot him a “save me” look over her shoulder. Owen hid a smile, although the other woman continued to ignore him. “You should give me a call sometime. We need to grab lunch and catch up! I know Tim would love to see you, too.”
Hannah smiled, but Owen noticed it didn’t reach her eyes. “Sounds great. You take care.”
Owen waited until Shelly was out of earshot before turning back to Hannah. “Having fun yet?”
Hannah huffed out a laugh. “Loads.” She was quiet for a moment while they walked, then said very softly, “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to come here.”
He cast about for something to say that would make her feel better but came up empty. “She seemed nice enough,” he said lamely.
She shook her head. “Shelly’s harmless. I just didn’t want to stir things up again.”
“I’m sorry,” he replied. It was the truth. From what he could gather, she’d already been through a lot, and he didn’t like forcing her to relive some of the worst moments of her life. But he had a case to solve, and all clues pointed in this direction. Hannah was his best shot at cutting through the red tape, and he had to take advantage of that.
Even if it did make him feel about two inches tall.
She shrugged off his apology. “Not your fault. Let’s do this.” Drawing up her shoulders like a woman preparing to do battle, she led him down a white corridor. Small windows high on the walls allowed glimpses of laboratory space behind closed doors, but he couldn’t see enough to form a complete picture. Many of the rooms were dark, their occupants having gone home for the weekend.
At the end of the hall sat a large glass enclosure. Hannah led them inside, and they approached an older woman sitting behind a desk. She glanced up but didn’t stop typing, the click of her keys the only sound in the otherwise silent room.
“What do you need?”
“We’re here to see Marcia Foley,” Hannah said.
The secretary returned her focus to her computer monitor. “She’s not available right now.”
Owen stepped forward, pulling out his badge. “Sure she is.”
The woman’s hands paused, the only indication of her surprise. She reached for the phone. “Let me tell her you’re here.”
“Don’t worry,” Owen said, walking past her desk. He grabbed Hannah’s hand as he went, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against his palm. “We’ll show ourselves in.”
