03 - Organized Grime (13 page)

He blinked again and, just for a fraction of a second, his cheek twitched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know the FBI has already talked to you about it.”

Finally, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You obviously know more than you’re letting on.” He tilted his head, his eyes suddenly looking weary. “Look, I had suspicions that my
employee
was into some business that he had no business being in. That’s why I requested those books. I wanted to get to the bottom of things. He’s not around anymore, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t have a mess to clean up.”

“Were you aware of the bomb-making manual stuck between the pages of the book?”

“No, not until the FBI informed me it was there.”

“Any idea what your employee was up to?”

He shook his head. “No, he was passionate about his work to protect the environment, but he wasn’t extreme. I don’t know why he was reading that material.”

Reminded me of Sierra.

“And you’re telling me the truth when you say that you don’t know Sierra?”

“I’ve never heard of her.”

“Have you been able to uncover any answers?”

He leaned toward me. “Who are you? Why are you asking me these questions?”

“I’m a crime scene cleaner.”

“And you’re authorized to investigate whatever this is that you’re investigating?”

“My best friend is being implicated and I’m determined to prove her innocence. I’m trying to connect some dots.”

He stared at me a moment before offering a curt nod. “I can appreciate that. But I’m not sure how much I can help you. I’m just as interested in getting some answers as you are.”

I slid my business card across the desk toward him. “If you discover any of those elusive answers, will you let me know?”

“I will. Would you do the same for me?”

I hesitated. I only shared information if it would benefit the investigation. Would sharing anything with Mark help me? Being on his side might earn me more information, whereas refusing might keep me locked out. I nodded. “Absolutely.”

I said goodbye and felt like dragging my feet as I left the building and climbed into my van, frustrated by another dead end. As I glanced at the front door, I saw someone else entered the building.

Lydia Harrison. Maybe this wasn’t a dead end after all.

My internal alarms began wailing. That couldn’t be a coincidence. What did Lydia Harrison and Mark Daniels know about each other? I bit the inside of my lip, mulling the thought over. I didn’t know. Not yet. But I would.

I sunk down in my seat and waited for Lydia Harrison to emerge.

***

Forty minutes later, Lydia exited the building. She wiped at her eyes, and I wondered if she’d been crying. About what? Wasn’t her divorce almost finalized? Was she dating Mark Daniels already? This woman was a major link to these crimes. I just didn’t know why.

As she started her Lexus and pulled away from the parking lot, I did the same. I hadn’t been schooled in the exact science of tailing someone, but I’d done a pretty good job at learning on my own. Don’t stay too close or be too aggressive. Change lanes when possible, but don’t let yourself get too far away. If in doubt, ditch the tail and try again later—and when I say doubt, I really mean danger, as in, if someone starts shooting at you or the like. Yeah, I’d been around the block a few times.

Lydia eased onto the interstate and, of course, I did the same. Traffic was moderate so it wasn’t hard to remain a respectable and unsuspecting distance behind her. She traveled west from Virginia Beach toward Chesapeake. Finally, she pulled off at an exit and into a … Waffle City? The greasy spoon hardly seemed like the haunt for a wealthy woman like Lydia.

She glanced around when she exited the car, as if she felt my eyes on her. But she never looked my way. I sunk down in my seat again, praying she wouldn’t see me. She seemed satisfied that no one suspicious was around and hurried inside the restaurant. The front of the place was all windows, which afforded me a great view of her meeting… with Broken Arrow.

What was going on? And how was Lydia involved in all of this? After today, I was sure she was involved in this mess somehow. I just had to figure out how. And was it a coincidence that she’d fixated on “winning” Riley at that Bachelor Auction? I didn’t believe in coincidences. But what did she want with Riley? Was she the same one who’d sent me cryptic notes? Was she trying to pull Riley and me into this whole mystery?

My cell phone began playing the Pink Panther theme song. I pulled it out and answered. Parker. I frowned.

He skipped any formalities. “Heard anymore from Sierra?”

“No, I haven’t. You?” I kept my eyes glued on the restaurant as we spoke.

“I can’t share any details of the investigation. Apparently, you’re trying to figure those out on your own.”

I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel, feeling like I’d had this conversation a million times before. “And you’re surprised?”

“No, I’m not.”

“What gave me away this time?”

“Mark Daniels told me you’d been by.”

So much for sharing any information with that man. I watched as Lydia leaned across the table at Broken Arrow. She slid something toward him. What was it? Broken Arrow looked around before grabbing the paper and slipping it inside his jacket. A bribe maybe? Information? I wanted to see that paper.

“Gabby, are you still there?”

I shook my head, coming out of my stupor. “I’m here.”

“If you find out any information, you need to share it with me, Gabby. Understand? This is serious.”

Yeah, I’d been told that a million times already—not that I needed to be told. “Got it.”

He paused. “Gabby, there’s been some other things that have happened.”

“Let me guess—you can’t tell me what, though. You’re just teasing me.”

“Actually, some of it will be on the news tonight, so I feel comfortable in giving you a heads up.”

I tensed in surprise at the unexpected news. “Okay, shoot.”

“James Harrison had a heart attack this morning. It doesn’t look like he’s going to make it.”

Chapter Seventeen

I sat up straight, my eyes temporarily leaving Lydia and Broken Arrow. “Heart attack? Heart attack how?”

“The normal way, Gabby. I don’t know.”

My back loosened some at the anti-climatic news. “Was it really the normal way?”

“We can only assume at this point. I will say that the man has had a lot of stress on him lately. Stress can do crazy things to a body.”

I would draw my own conclusions. “Has this whole town gone crazy?”

“We think there’s more than one person involved here. We know they’re dangerous.”

I ran my hand along the edge of my steering wheel, trying to follow my thoughts as easily. “You mean, like a gang?”

“Not necessarily. I just really want you to be careful, though.”

“Got it.” I hung up, mulling over his words when my phone began playing that familiar tune. What had Parker forgotten now? “I’m going to start charging you for my time.”

“Gabby?”

I straightened again, my heart rate quickening. “Sierra? Where are you? What’s going on?”

“Don’t trust anyone, Gabby.” The phone cackled.

I gripped the phone harder than I intended, so hard that my knuckles actually ached. “Anyone? What do you mean by that? Sierra, I need some answers.”

She tried to say something, but I couldn’t make it out.

“Where are you, Sierra? I can help.”

“No.” Garbled words followed.

“But—”

“I have to go. I can’t risk my call being traced. Be careful, Gabby. This isn’t a game. There are people out there willing to kill in order to keep their secrets.”

Before I could say anything else, the line went dead. What was that about? Where was Sierra? How was she involved in this?

Before I could ponder it very long, both Lydia and Broken Arrow stood. They exchanged a handshake before exiting Waffle City. I watched as Broken Arrow walked to his truck, and Lydia to her Lexus.
Who to follow, who to follow?

I went with my gut and pulled out after the truck.  I stayed behind Broken Arrow on the highway for several miles. Where was this man going? Did he sense I was following him? I didn’t think so.

Until he turned off the highway onto a two lane road. Here, it would be hard to hide. Did he know that? Did he know I was following him and choose this road on purpose?

I gripped the wheel, hoping I’d made the right decision by following Broken Arrow.

Finally, he turned off the country lane and back onto a four-lane road. A few minutes later, he pulled into a city park. He parked his truck and hurried through the woods toward the lake beyond that. The patch of trees blocked my view. Who was he meeting? What was going on? The answers felt close.

I scrambled from my van, deciding to take my chances. There were several other cars in the parking lot, so I wouldn’t be at the park alone with Broken Arrow. And the woods would offer a good cover for me. I just had to see who he was meeting. I had to know what was going on.

I bypassed the path leading directly to the park and ducked into the woods instead. I stayed far enough away from the trail that I wouldn’t be seen. When I got closer to the park, I slowed my steps. I ducked behind a massive oak tree and peered around it, hoping to get a glimpse of Broken Arrow. My flip flops made it hard to navigate the uneven terrain, but I did the best I could.

Where was he? I craned my neck, trying to spot him. Instead, I saw families with young children bundled in their winter coats, a lone, die-hard fisherman, an underdressed, competitive biker. No Broken Arrow though.

What if he’d decided to take the path around the lake? I hesitated to leave the safety of the park crowd. But if I stayed concealed in the woods, I could still be in the clear. I could discover the answers I sought and then quietly slip away before anyone ever saw me.

I looked in every direction, waiting to see if anyone had spotted me. I didn’t see a soul. I had to be careful, though. The woods, though there were some evergreens, were sparse in their winter coats. In the summer, the area was thick with underbrush and vines and greenery. Right now, the trees stood like skeletons.

I swallowed, trying not to think about the possibilities of snakes or other creatures that might be living out here. I guess I’d deal with that when it happened.

I moved down the length of the lake trail, being careful not to step on any branches and make myself known. If a career in forensics didn’t work out, maybe I could apply for the CIA. My spy skills were quite impressive today, even if I did say so myself.

I paused behind another large tree as a picnic shelter came into view. Something—or someone—was there. I squinted, trying to get a better look. What was that? A person, hunched over?  A trash bag? I couldn’t tell.

I sucked in a breath and decided I’d get a little closer. Not too close.

I took my first step when a hand wrapped around my mouth. I tried to scream, but couldn’t. Someone pinned my arms and lifted me off my feet.

Maybe I shouldn’t think about being a spy after all.

Chapter Eighteen

“Why are you following me, Gabby St. Claire?”

I recognized the voice, the cadence of the man’s speech. Broken Arrow.

Of course, I couldn’t answer him because his hand was over my mouth. That didn’t stop me from mumbling into his hand. I could annoy him if nothing else.

“Easy does it, Gabby. I’m going to move my hand, but if you scream, I’ll have to take alternative actions. Got it?”

I nodded. Alternate actions? Was that as threatening as he could sound?

Slowly, he lowered his hand from my mouth. His grip around my midsection loosened, and I turned around. I stared up at Broken Arrow, realizing that the man was a good foot taller than me, had muscles the size of machine guns, and could probably snap my neck in one, quick, easy motion.

“What are you doing here, Gabby?” he asked.

“I saw you meeting with Lydia. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“Some things are not for you to know, Gabby St. Claire.”

He said my full name an awful lot. “There are some things I need to know, Broken Arrow. My friend is in danger.”

“I’m afraid you are too.”

My throat felt suddenly dry. “Why? What’s going on?”

“You have to figure that out. Though I’d prefer that you didn’t.”

“Are you involved?”

A shadow passed over his eyes. “There are things of which I cannot speak.”

“Says who? Who says you can’t speak of them?”

“Gabby St. Claire, be glad I found you today instead of someone else. Someone else may have hurt you and left you here for dead. I only warn you.”

“But—”

“Go. Go now, Gabby, before we both end up dead.”

I stared at him a moment. What did that mean? What was I missing?

I knew one thing. This was more than a case of murder. This was more than a serial killer or a string of robberies. Was it a gang? Drugs? A prostitution ring? Public corruption?

Broken Arrow still stared at me, and I knew I wouldn’t get any more information from him. I nodded. “I’m leaving.”

“Watch your back. Always. You’re going to wish you hadn’t gotten involved in this, Gabby St. Claire.”

I tromped back through the woods until I found the trail. I went back to my van, feeling like I blew everything. The mystery was only deepening, and I was getting no answers. Sierra could die if the wrong person or people found her, and I was helpless to intervene. I threw my head back into the seat, feeling a headache coming on.

That’s when I spotted another piece of paper on my windshield. What now? I grabbed it and unfolded the creases.

As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another. If you play with fire, you’re going to get burned. Your efforts are impressive, however. I only hope you’re fire—and iron—proof.

Chapter Nineteen

I had to find my friend. That was all there was to it.