Читать книгу Outside The Law - Michelle Karl - Страница 12

THREE

Yasmine’s hands trembled as she waited in the police station for Noel. She held a lukewarm cup of coffee that she’d accepted more for the warmth radiating from the beverage than anything else. She felt cold, so very cold, and her stomach hurt. Whether from lack of food or the strain of the day, she didn’t know. Did it matter?

She rubbed the side of her left knee, feeling for the place a bullet had grazed her as she ran through the apartment building only hours before. It still stung, but it hadn’t bled too much, and going to the hospital to stitch it up seemed a needless waste of time. It would heal if only she stopped running away from shooters and watching them die in front of her.

It didn’t make sense. Why would anyone want to kill her? And why would the shooter, once caught, commit suicide to avoid talking? The only thing she could figure was that this whole day had to be a case of mistaken identity.

Noel had wanted her to talk immediately about Daniel’s death, but the police had arrived on-scene—thankfully Officer Wayne hadn’t been among them—and they’d had to give those reports first. Besides, she felt a little silly for having blurted out her suspicion to him earlier. She’d been pumped up with adrenaline after escaping the shooters in her apartment, not to mention unexpectedly seeing Noel again after ten years. When it came right down to it, her hunch about Daniel’s death was just that—a hunch. She had no proof, nothing concrete but a knowledge that Daniel was an exceptionally careful worker and that the routine investigation into the work accident that claimed his life had been wrapped up in less than forty-eight hours. Packaged up with a little bow and presented in a press release in the local paper. Unfortunate tragedy, they’d said. Completely preventable, if only Daniel had taken the correct precautions during his shift. Yasmine couldn’t believe that her brother, the safety fanatic, would have done anything to endanger himself or others.

And it only added to her uncertainty about the whole thing that just a few days before, Daniel had said something she wished she’d paid more attention to at the time.

“I think I stumbled across something at work today,” he’d said as she rushed to pack herself a lunch at quarter to five in the morning. Daniel wasn’t usually up so early, but sometimes he had trouble sleeping and spent time online playing games or working on lesson plans for the online engineering courses he occasionally taught through a local adult education center. She’d hardly paid attention to him as he spoke to her that day. “I was waiting in the boss’s office to present him with a briefing, and I saw one of the reports I’d filed a week earlier. It didn’t look right.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she’d said, barely giving him a second glance. “Not right, how?”

“The numbers on the inspection sheet... I didn’t get much of a chance to take it all in before Clarke returned to the office. We got caught up in conversation, so I forgot about it. But now that I think back, it can’t have been right. Those numbers were not the same.”

“You probably missed the date or something,” she’d said. “Maybe you were looking at an old report. You said yourself that you didn’t get much chance to take it all in.”

Daniel had rubbed his eyes and sighed. “That’s true.”

“So why are you losing sleep over it? And if you’re worried about a problem, you should talk to your boss about it, not me.” She’d closed her lunch sack and tucked it into the colorful patchwork messenger bag she used as a purse, a gift from one of her Amaran cousins. “He might even be grateful—if there is a problem, he might be too busy to have spotted it. You might be doing the place a favor.”

He’d nodded, but even when he agreed with her, his voice sounded uncertain. “Yeah. Maybe. Thanks, sis. Hope you don’t burn anything today.” He’d playfully punched her in the shoulder and she’d punched him back. “Bring me home a cinnamon roll or some baklava.”

“You don’t need any more sweets, Daniel.” She’d given him an appraising eye, just like their mother used to do when either of them took a second helping of dessert, and they’d both laughed. He’d waved her off and she’d headed to work, forgetting about the conversation moments after closing the apartment door.

Days later, he was dead. And it wasn’t until a week after the funeral that she’d recalled their conversation and realized that maybe—just maybe—she’d told him to do the very thing that had gotten him killed.

It was supposition. Pure conjecture. But still, she couldn’t shake the awful feeling that somehow, Daniel might actually have seen something he wasn’t supposed to. And she’d told him to tell his boss about it.

The timing all seemed a little too convenient.

On the other hand, without proof or anything to substantiate her feelings, nobody had any reason to take her seriously. Especially not Noel, the big FBI agent.

“Ready to go?” Noel crossed the station toward her, tossing a set of keys up and catching them as he moved. Officer Wayne came with him, his expression flat and unreadable. “I went through your old reports with Wayne, and we’re set to go.”

“You have your car back?” Yasmine made a point of not looking in the officer’s direction, but that meant she needed to focus on Noel—and it was hard not to notice once again that the physique of her childhood friend had changed considerably in the past decade. He’d been such a scrawny thing back in the day. It was going to take some getting used to, seeing him filled out and carrying himself with the utmost confidence. What on earth had inspired timid Noel Black to enter the FBI, anyway? She also hadn’t yet had the chance to ask him about his family. What a day this was turning out to be.

“No.” Noel sighed. “Not yet. But Officer Wayne here knows a guy and had him bring over a car for us.”

“Us?” Yasmine narrowed her eyes at him.

Noel cleared his throat and clutched the keys as they dropped once more into his hand. “Yes, us. I’m taking you to my parents’ place. You’ll be safe there. You can’t go back to your apartment tonight, and I’m sure my mom would love to see you.”

Yasmine almost laughed. “I’ve seen your mom more than you probably have, Noel. I own a bakery here in town, and she’s come in a few times.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she was flooded with the memory of Noel and Daniel as they joked together while playing board games. What was that old one, Mastermind? They loved to play that, though they always seemed to make up their own rules. “I guess she wouldn’t have mentioned I went to Quantico, since I didn’t even tell her at first. I wanted to make sure I could hack it, since the drop-out and dismissal rate is fairly high.”

“She did mention once that you’d gone through police training a few years ago or something like that.”

Noel grimaced at her words but didn’t elaborate. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“FBI and Police Academy,” Officer Wayne muttered. “That explains it.”

“Anyway, I can stay with my aunt.” She didn’t want to, really didn’t want to. “There’s no point in me putting your mom out, especially not when I have family here in town. Officer, are you sure I can’t go back to my apartment and pick up a few things?”

Officer Wayne frowned. “No.”

“Maybe by tomorrow?” Noel glanced at Officer Wayne, who only shrugged. Was that remorse she saw on Wayne’s face? Had he finally realized that Yasmine hadn’t been overreacting all this time? “I wouldn’t recommend going back by yourself,” Noel said.

“Not until we’ve got a better handle on what’s happening here.” Officer Wayne looked at the floor for a moment before training his steely gaze on her. “We’re going to find out who did this to you and why.”

She swallowed down a sarcastic retort about the police’s refusal to take her earlier suspicions seriously. “So you’ve been reexamining the reports I’ve given to date?” When Officer Wayne grunted in the affirmative, she stood and pulled out her cell phone. “Good. You know how to reach me if there are any further questions. I’ll have my aunt come and get me.”

Noel shook his head and backed toward the exit. “No way. It’s been ten years, Browder. I’m not letting you get away that easily, not when we have a whole fifteen minutes to catch up on the way to your aunt’s place. Plus, this way I can keep an eye on you. We don’t know if the shooter was acting alone or if the person who sent him is anywhere nearby. The shooting at your apartment may or may not be related, and whether the guys who shot up your apartment were gang members or not, I’ll feel better personally seeing you safely to your aunt’s place. Did you want to call and let her know you’re coming?”

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

“Nope.” Noel jingled the keys and waved one hand to the retreating Officer Wayne. “Come on. We have some catching up to do. It’ll take your mind off the events of the day.”

Not likely. She followed him to the car and made a quick phone call to Auntie Zee, who was ecstatic to hear that she was coming over—less so to hear that she’d been involved in the shootings reported on the news that day. Yasmine left out most of the details, just giving her aunt enough to understand why Yasmine would be coming over for the night.

She climbed into the car as Noel got himself oriented to the new vehicle. The concentration on his face reminded her of the times they’d spent trying to figure out the newspaper crossword puzzles together, or the look on his face during a particularly trying round of Scrabble. A sudden pang of longing struck her—a longing for the past, for how close they’d been, for how Noel had treated her like she was a precious jewel. She’d been too young and hadn’t appreciated it until it was too late.

“So—” They both spoke at the same time, bringing an extra layer of awkwardness to the moment. Noel laughed nervously and started the car.

“You first,” Yasmine said. “And sorry again about getting your car shot to bits.”

“You’ll have to remind me how to get to your aunt’s place. And it’s not your fault my car got shot up,” Noel said with a shrug. The vehicle reversed out of the parking lot, and he turned onto the main street. “I’m blaming the guys who did it, and when the police catch them, you’d better believe that they’ll be paying.”

“The police? You’re not helping?”

He shook his head. “There’s nothing in the shootings that places this within federal jurisdiction. So far a building and a restaurant have been shot up while you were inside, but I can’t take over because of that. I realize that sounds ridiculous, but the FBI works differently in reality than in movies.”

“We caught the restaurant shooter. And he killed himself. Can’t you step in and look for the guys at my apartment now?”

“Doesn’t matter. Until there’s a cause of death determined for sure, and only if that gets passed up the chain, there’s nothing I can do. The FBI isn’t exactly called in for suicides, Mina.”

Yasmine stared at the man beside her. She hadn’t heard anyone call her that in...well, ten years. “Mina. You remembered.”

He glanced sideways at her with a half smile. “Of course I remember. It’s been a while, but we’re not strangers.”

Warmth and regret flooded Yasmine’s heart, but she shoved it aside just as quickly. So what if he’d grown up to be a handsome man? She had no place thinking of him as anything other than a childhood friend. And besides, he’d only be in her life for a day or two at most. She didn’t know much about how the FBI worked, but she did know that they tended to send people all over the country. There was no way Noel had been assigned to their little town in western New York.

“Turn left at the next stoplight,” she said. “And you’re right, but ten years is a long time not to speak to someone, Noel. We’re strangers in almost every way at this point.”

She’d meant it to be a lighthearted comment, but it came out sounding cold.

“You’re right. It is a long time.” His voice had gone flat, emotionless.

“That’s not what I meant. It’s more like, what have you been up to? Are you married, have kids? Do you still like to watch Saturday morning cartoons? I’m curious. It’s like having a big brother who goes away to school whom you don’t get to see until after graduation.”

“Big brother, huh?” He remained rigid, not looking at her. “But I’m not the one who went away, Yasmine. I’m not the one who disappeared for ten years without so much as a goodbye.”

Yasmine’s heart sank toward her shoes. This wasn’t how she’d imagined their reunion would be, not that she ever truly entertained the notion that they’d see each other again.

And she’d meant to look him up once she returned to the United States. She really had, but getting the bakery up and running took first priority, and helping Daniel manage the apartment, plus volunteering on her church’s outreach committee...well, connecting with old friends had taken a backseat.

It wasn’t like Noel had reached out to her, either. Surely his mother had mentioned running into her at the bakery. And he was FBI now, so it was hard to believe that he couldn’t have found her if he’d really searched.

So, why did she feel so guilty?

“Look, I didn’t mean to leave without saying goodbye.” Her voice was so soft, she wondered for a moment if she’d spoken out loud or merely thought the apology. “I considered you my best friend. Even after I acted like a jerk and laughed at your declaration.”

Noel chuckled, and she heard the ache behind it. The memory clearly remained as fresh and painful for him as it did for her, as if it had happened yesterday. “I should have known better. We were friends, that’s all. You’d never shown interest in me that way, and I was an awkward kid. If I’d had any smarts about girls, I’d have been much smoother to ensure that by the time I said something, you’d have liked me back.”

“Give yourself a little credit, at least. That was a very brave thing to do.”

“I don’t know about that.” She saw his hands tighten around the steering wheel. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t said anything at all.”

Yasmine sighed and leaned her head against the window. “I’m glad you did. I only wish I’d clued in sooner, because by the time I tried to tell you the same thing, you already had a girlfriend from school. Do you remember that?”

Noel scratched his chin, thinking. “Actually, no. You tried to tell me you had a crush on me?”

She laughed softly. “Figures. Yes, it was the last time we saw each other. Our moms had Bible study group and you hadn’t come for a while, but that day you came and you brought Suzanna. Cute blonde, thinner than me. Great legs—I think she ran track at school? Anyway, I poured sparkling apple juice for all of us and then went to the freezer for a package of frozen pitas to make a snack. You followed me and asked if you could help with anything. I was so startled that you’d do that—you were usually clueless about that kind of thing.”

“How do you remember all this?” Noel shook his head in disbelief. “I remember that I came over that day and there was a girl with me, but I can barely recall what she looked like, let alone what happened.”

Yasmine groaned. “Boys! Go figure! It was literally that moment that I tried to tell you I finally had a crush on you, too. But I tried to be, you know, kinda subtle about it because I was afraid that Suzanna would overhear.”

“Uh, I think you were far too subtle, because I honestly don’t remember that.”

“Turn right up here. And of course you don’t.” She twisted in her seat to face him, though he kept his eyes on the road. “I don’t remember what you said, but it was something hurtful. I know it wasn’t meant to be and you’d misunderstood me, but it felt like a rejection all the same. The next day, my aunt and mom explained that we were going to visit family in Amar because my grandmother had fallen ill.”

“But you never came back. You’re telling me you were supposed to be there only for a visit?”

She swallowed the urge to cut off her story, to give him a patronizing answer and not relive the next part of the tale. But she’d already started telling it, and it would be cruel to back down now. “I promise this is the truth, Noel. I didn’t mean to disappear without a word, but the illness was sudden, and we had to leave quickly. I’d never met my grandmother before, and my mom wanted me to have that chance before she passed. When we arrived, her condition had worsened, and it was clear she wouldn’t be with us much longer, so mom wanted to stay and be with her to the end. My schoolwork for the rest of the year was done through mail and email, and by the time my grandmother went to be with Jesus, we were so engrained with my extended family and my mother was so heartbroken by the loss of her mother that we stayed. My dad was still alive at the time and able to work remotely, so one week blended into the next, and the next thing I knew...”

“Ten years had passed,” Noel murmured. “That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t contact me. Daniel sent a few letters. Did you know that? I didn’t see him after he moved back to the States, but he called me once to see how I was doing.”

“Sounds like Daniel,” Yasmine said. Her words hitched, a lump forming in her throat. “I really miss him.”

“Me, too.” She wasn’t the only one having difficulty—she heard Noel’s words grow thick with emotion. “I wish I’d had a chance to say goodbye. Or anything, really.”

Silence descended once again as the memory of Daniel washed over them. She heard the hitch of Noel’s breath and wished that they weren’t driving so she could reach out to him, take back the way she’d snapped at him earlier when he’d only tried to help. He had helped, and generously so. Then again, what made her think that he’d find comfort in her?

“It’s the third house on the right up here, the yellow one with lavender flowers in front.”

Noel pulled into her aunt’s driveway, and Yasmine couldn’t help but feel regretful that their conversation had ended on such a low note—but at the same time, she didn’t know what to say to make it better.

“Breakfast tomorrow?”

She whipped her head around, certain she’d heard him wrong. “Breakfast? Together?” He laughed, and she felt a rush of warmth to her cheeks. Of course he didn’t know what a ludicrous suggestion that was. “You realize I have to be at the bakery by five in the morning to get everything ready for the day, right? We’d have to eat at four fifteen, four thirty at the latest.”

His smile slipped at the mention of a four o’clock start to the day. “That’s... You do that every day? Do you have to?” She raised one eyebrow at him, and he lifted his palms in defeat. “Okay, okay. How about this? I’ll drive you to work. We can grab coffee and a breakfast sandwich on the way, and we can talk in the car. I’m heading that direction back to the station tomorrow anyway. Officer Wayne started to see reason and agreed with me that where there’s a shooter who takes his own life, the boss can’t be far behind. Just in case there’s still a danger to you, I’m going to be hanging around outside your aunt’s place tonight. An officer on patrol might come spell me for a bit if I can convince Captain Simcoe, but you won’t be alone. I don’t think we can be too careful after today’s events.”

She shook her head. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to, and you can’t talk me out of it. I’ll be ready to go at quarter to five tomorrow, okay?”

Yasmine wanted to yell that the police should really be the ones setting a watch for her when Daniel’s killer roamed free, that Noel didn’t need to exhaust himself on her behalf, but at least it would be a start. Once Officer Wayne finished examining her reports and corroborated them with the events of today—and accepted that even an FBI agent believed that something dangerous was happening—he’d have to believe her. Maybe even send the case up to the captain, who held the power to launch a real investigation.

In the meantime, Noel driving her to work would be, well, nice. He didn’t think she was crazy, and she found herself almost looking forward to spending a little more time together. Their conversations had all been cut too short.

“Fine, but four thirty is a better time. I don’t want to stop for any of those mass-produced chain restaurant pastries. Mine are much tastier. Actually—” She paused, her legs dangling out the door. “We’ll go right to the store. You can sit behind the counter as I prep. I’ll make breakfast. Tomorrow is salted caramel cinnamon roll and blueberry lavender scone day.”

Noel’s smile returned, and Yasmine felt her expression mirror his in spite of herself. “Now that will be worth waiting here through the night for.”

He waved as she shut the door and walked up the front steps to her aunt’s house. As she stepped inside, she looked back over her shoulder at the childhood friend who waited to ensure she made it safely. She waved back at him as she crossed the threshold, then closed the door as he parked across the street.

Only then did it occur to her that her heart was beating rapidly, her palms warm and her cheeks flushed. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, the truth was impossible to deny—her reaction had nothing to do with all the bullets that had flown at her today, and everything to do with the handsome FBI agent whose car she’d leaped inside of only hours before.

* * *

Noel’s cell phone alarm woke him at four thirty-two the following morning. He waved at the police cruiser that had pulled up a few hours ago to allow Noel to get a bit of rest. He didn’t want his ability to protect Yasmine compromised by exhaustion, and it hadn’t been difficult to convince the police captain last night to send some officers over to help out—especially after he played the FBI card. The police cruiser revved up and pulled away as Noel rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Despite his best efforts to rest, he’d spent most of the past few hours fidgety and unable to stop the events of the day from playing out over and over again in his mind. One thing was certain: they needed to talk more about Yasmine’s suspicions surrounding Daniel’s death. Despite the police’s dismissal of her claims, he wanted to hear the story straight from Yasmine herself.

He unclipped his seat belt to head up to the house and collect her, but she slipped outside just as he disengaged the vehicle locks. She closed the door behind her and jogged down the driveway with far too much energy for this early in the morning.

As she climbed into the vehicle, she looked at him with wide-eyed concern. “What is it? Is there something on my face? I know, same clothes as yesterday, but my aunt is tiny and doesn’t have anything that fits me.”

He pulled his gaze from her with a light shake of the head, consciously aware of how his heart had begun to beat a little faster in her presence, and how the suddenly pervasive scent of cinnamon and honey on yesterday’s outfit made him want to lean in a little closer.

They were childhood friends reunited by circumstance. That was all. That was all it could ever be, especially with him straight out of Quantico and about to embark on a brand-new career that could take him who knew where.

“Thanks for playing early morning chauffeur,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome,” he said. He yawned, unable to stifle it any longer. “You’ll have to direct me to the bakery.”

“Back to the main drag and head south.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes as Noel racked his brain for the right thing to say. He didn’t want to push for details about Daniel’s death and risk her closing herself off to him, but on the other hand, he couldn’t help unless he had all the information.

“Mina—”

“Take a left here,” she said, pointing at the intersection lights ahead of them. Noel nodded and took advantage of the green light to move into the intersection, waiting for a chance to turn. “I did some thinking last night, Noel. I’m worried that—”

He shifted his gaze ever so slightly toward her, ready to listen, when his eyes alighted on something outside the passenger side window.

“No!” He shouted and reached for her as a massive black shape barreled toward them. With a deafening crash, the side of the car crumpled inward, the window shattering as Noel’s world descended into darkness.