“Back to base,” Lima said. “I need intel. Oscar and Yankee will tail the sister and keep us posted.”
One of the twins, who were sitting in their SUV just down the block, sounded off over the two-ways in their ears. “Roger roger.”
Delta had lived and worked with them for over four years and still couldn’t tell their voices apart on the radio. In person, sure, he could easily tell them apart by their mannerisms and the scar on the left side of Yankee’s jaw.
The other four men walked down to the second SUV, piled in, and headed back to the hotel.
Delta, Juju, and Ax retired to their room to catch another nap. Delta and Juju shared a bed and gave “the kid” as they were both thinking of him now the other bed.
“So how does this mess up our plans?” Ax asked.
“Don’t know.” He and Juju both lay down on top of the covers, fully dressed. “We have to wait for Lima to get back to us. He’ll probably run down as much info as he can on that building. We’d been hoping to grab that guy and question him about what he knew before going in there, but we might have to go in blind, to a certain extent. Regardless, it can’t be in the middle of the day.”
“Why not?” Ax asked.
Juju snorted and answered. “Visibility.”
“Oh.”
“This is definitely a nighttime mission,” Delta continued. “So I suggest you grab some rack time now, while the grabbing is good.”
* * * *
Shasta ended up going in to work nearly two hours early.
It was that or listen to the muffled sounds of her mother’s sobs through their bedroom door.
They’d found nearly a thousand dollars, cash, in Stu’s wallet.
Ironically, that would be the money they’d use to pay for his budget cremation. A regular funeral was way outside their means, even with help from the military to pick up a chunk of it.
Functional numbness had set in, not dulling her rage, just helping her corral it so she didn’t explode. Shasta realized she had to get out of the house when she’d asked her dad how soon they could move her mom’s coworker and daughter into Stu’s room.
He’d stared up at her with shock on his face.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m…not thinking straight right now.”
That’s when she realized she’d have to go to work. It was her one sole tether to sanity.
With the uncertainty in the staffing, she’d taken to bringing a shower kit and spare clothes with her to work, along with a pillow, just in case. As she drove to work in a fog, trying not to think—
Stuart’s dead
—about how cool his skin had felt under her fingers, she started a mental checklist.
Run the license plates.
Track down the address.
She glanced at her locked glove box.
Research shooting a gun.
Because someone would get shot. Whether or not she killed them remained to be seen, but even if she had to gut-shoot someone to give up information that would lead her to the fuckers who’d basically killed her brother, she’d do it.
Her give-a-damn had given up when it came to laws, and what constituted right and wrong.
Stu had tried to change. Had wanted to change. Had thought he’d found the answer.
It’d given not only Shasta hope, but her parents as well.
Now they were hurting even more, and she would make sure if for that alone someone’s ass would fucking pay.
She walked into their office and dropped her stuff at her station, kicking her bag under her desk before making her way back to their dedicated break room. Before she told Lou what had happened, she needed coffee first. It wasn’t until she’d made it all the way to the break room that she realized Tesla and Ramirez, who’d both been at their desks, had gone quiet when she’d walked into the room.
Just short of the break room door she turned and stared at them.
They immediately turned around and went back to work.
Backtracking, she realized Lou wasn’t in his office, although, honestly? She could barely remember her own name at that point, much less whether or not Lou was supposed to be on duty or not.
I don’t fucking care.
Coffee first. She needed it.
Desperately.
And as her stomach growled, she realized not only had she never made herself breakfast, but she hadn’t eaten at all since getting up.
Shit.
After making her coffee, she carried it back out to her desk and left it sitting there. Without a word to Tesla and Ramirez, she headed downstairs to the cafeteria. They’d still be open and she could grab a sandwich or something. If she ate the food she’d brought with her—which she realized she’d forgotten to put in the break room fridge—she’d be starving come morning.
Sigh.
Right now, she was trying to focus on keeping one foot in front of the other without walking into a wall, diverting her thoughts—
Stuart’s dead.
—when they drifted too far into dangerous territory.
She grabbed the two least gross-looking sandwiches out of the cooler case in the cafeteria and paid for them before the place closed up.
When she returned to her office, Lou was standing by Ramirez’s desk, talking with him.
“Hey,” she numbly said, digging her lunch cooler out of her bag and heading back to the break room.
He followed her. “We need to talk.”
She sighed. “Yeah, we do.” She yanked open the fridge and shoved her stuff inside, except for one of the sandwiches she’d just bought, and slammed it closed again.
When she turned, she spotted the…weird look on Lou’s face. “What?”
“Why are you here so early?” he asked.
A wave of tears threatened to take her out at the knees, but she managed to get herself into one of the chairs at the table first. “Stu’s dead,” she whispered, the impact hammering pain and guilt through her soul.
Lou’s eyes widened. “I…fuck. Shasta, I’m so sorry.” He pulled out a chair and sat with her. “Why didn’t you call in? Go home. I’ll work your shift.”
She shook her head, trying not to focus on him. She finally pulled her glasses off and laid them on the table. She’d given up any pretense of trying to look nice today and had just pulled her hair back with an elastic band into a short ponytail.
“I can’t,” she said. “I need to work. If I sit there at home I’m gonna go crazy.” She finally looked up at him. Behind him, she saw Ramirez and Tesla, who’d both been looking down the hallway.
Realizing they’d been spotted, they both disappeared to their respective desks off to either side. She could see the empty work stations of Bailey and Waxler.
Forcing her focus onto Lou, she squinted at him. “What the hell is wrong with those two today?”
He cleared his throat. “Um…” He let out a sigh. “That’s why I’m here. Tesla agreed to come in to cover an extra shift. Paul’s…” He cleared his throat again. “Paul’s dead.”
Those two words rocked her to her core. She stared at him. “Dead?”
He slowly nodded. “His wife answered his cell phone this morning when I called him trying to find out where he was. He was supposed to relieve me.”
“What the hell? Dead how?” But she already knew, even before he answered.
“Looks like a drug overdose. Said she woke up and found him asleep on the couch with a big grin on his face. Found a syringe right next to him.”
She stared at him, ice now filling her spine, her veins, her lungs, her stomach, the freeze creeping into her brain. “OD?”
He nodded. “How did your…” He didn’t finish.
He didn’t have to.
She nodded.
“Shit.” He rubbed at his face again. “Look, seriously, go home and—”
“No. I can’t.” She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself from screaming. “So does that mean we can post for his damn job now?” Shasta muttered.
/>
Lou arched an eyebrow at her.
“Oh, too soon?”
He sighed. “Shas—”
She held up a staying hand. “Dude, I have no sympathy for anyone except Paul’s wife and kids.” She hauled herself up out of her chair and stared down at him. “I’m done. I’m done giving sympathy to people who ruin everyone else’s lives. He was using, just like Stu was using. I don’t care how they tried to sell the shit, they were still junkies.” She turned and headed for the break room door.
“I was able to pull two people from down in the data center as temps,” he said. “Please, take a couple of days off. Three, at least. I’ll work some extra shifts.”
She turned. “I can’t afford it.”
“Paid family leave,” he said. “Take. It.”
“What about Bailey?” she asked. “He going to call in dead, too?”
“He was here this morning and worked until about four. He’ll come in tomorrow morning.”
“If he’s not fucking dead.”
“Shasta! Take the night off.”
“Fine.” It wasn’t fine because, right now, working was the only thing keeping her from screaming her lungs out and clawing at…something.
Anything.
She wanted to punch and hit and kick and bite.
She couldn’t even get in a good, hard, raging grief fuck because to do that, you had to actually have someone to fuck to have a grief fuck.
She didn’t even have that.
I’m fucking pitiful.
* * * *
“She’s on the move again,” Lima said.
Their nap at the hotel had only lasted twenty minutes before Lima got them up and moving again. He wanted to see what kind of intelligence they could gather on the sister and that warehouse, so after Delta, Juju, Lima, and Ax had caught up with Oscar and Yankee just as they pulled into the government complex behind the sister, they switched out.
Delta was behind the wheel this time. Ax rode with Oscar and Yankee and left to go keep an eye on the warehouse. So far, they hadn’t spotted any police presence anywhere near it.
Juju had jumped out of their car and tracked the woman upstairs to her department. He hadn’t been able to follow her inside, but had veered off and gone on to the records department, also on the same floor and open to the public.
They’d been ready to settle in for the night to watch for her when their subject surprised them by coming out less than an hour later and getting in her car.
Now, there she sat, the engine running, lights on.
And…
Delta held up a pair of binoculars and looked through them to watch her.
He watched as she pounded on her steering wheel and cried.
“Either she just got fired,” Delta muttered, “or they sent her home when she told them her brother died.”
“I doubt fired,” Lima said from the backseat, the perpetual sound of a keyboard clicking underlying every other sound in the vehicle. “Her department only has seven people listed in it. She probably went in to work to not think for a while. I know that’s what I’d do.”
Delta felt sorry for her. They’d gotten a better look at her via her driver’s license and county employee ID pics. Shasta Marie Myers, twenty-nine. Blonde hair and blue eyes, five nine. Went to college there in Houston studying computer programming, and had been working for Harris County ever since, first in their data center, and now second in command of their traffic and camera signal division.
How Bubba and Lima had dredged all of that up, Delta didn’t even want to know.
But as he watched her grief play out through the binoculars, he felt damned sorry for her. Now she was sobbing, her head on her arms on the steering wheel as her shoulders shook.
Letting out a sigh, he handed the binoculars to Juju, who took a look.
“Shit,” Juju said after watching her for a moment. “I feel sorry for her.”
“Little brother dies,” Delta said, “and she tried going to work.”
“You think they fired her?” Juju asked.
Lima snorted. “Nope. Check this out, another guy in their personnel rosters for that department, one of those seven? Status just changed to deceased an hour ago.”
Delta and Juju turned. “What?”
“Yep. Paul Waxler. Married, two kids, former vet.” Lima looked up from the screen. “Also a patient at the VA clinic.”
“Well, isn’t that a coinkydink?” Delta snarked.
Juju returned the binoculars to him. Delta couldn’t help taking another look at her. “Single?”
“I just said married with two kids.”
“Her, jackass,” Delta shot back, pointing out the window.
“Oh. Don’t go blaming me for you not being clear. No spouse listed in her employment file as next of kin, and no records of her having been married or divorced.”
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
“Answers it the best I can at this time.”
“I’m guessing single,” Juju said.
Delta put down the binoculars. “Why?”
“Well, your little brother dies, you call your family. Her mom and dad, or people I assume are her mom and dad, they showed up. No one else did. If she was involved with someone, I would have expected someone else to show up. Especially a guy. Or for her to leave home and head there.”
“Oh.” Delta lifted the binoculars to his eyes again. His heart ached for her. She still sat there, sobbing. “True. So what do we do now?”
“Stay on her for right now,” Lima said. “If we get a chance to talk to her, I want to see what she knows about her brother’s activities. Maybe she’ll have some information about what’s going on inside that warehouse.”
“I have an idea,” Delta said, throwing the vehicle into park. “Juju, come with, and stay quiet.”
“What?”
“Just follow me.”
He got out, not looking back as he heard Juju exit the vehicle behind him. Making a beeline for her car, he took a deep breath, walked up to the driver’s door, and gently rapped on the window.
She sat up, startled, hesitating a moment before she rolled the window down. “Yes?” She sniffled.
“Ms. Shasta Myers?”
“Who are you?”
“I apologize, but I was told we might find you here. I know this is not an easy time for you, but I need to ask you a couple more questions about…what happened this morning.”
She rooted around in her purse for tissues and blew her nose before she nodded. “Okay, sure.”
He felt like shit for taking advantage of her like this, when she was obviously vulnerable, but better now than her asking pesky questions, like wanting to see official ID.
“Did your brother have any contacts you know of who we might talk to about his activities over the past couple of weeks?”
“Good luck with that,” she said. “He wouldn’t tell me anything about the past few days. Said he was in an experimental program.”
Despite her tears, he suspected from her tense body language that she was holding something back. Besides, they’d followed her. They saw her follow her brother.
Maybe it was just that, maybe it was more. He wasn’t sure.
“Any chance you know who gave or sold him the drugs that led to his death?”
“No, but if you find out, let me know and give me a headstart.” She glared up at him, her nose puffy, eyes red and swollen from crying.
He admired her spirit.
“I’m guessing from your questions,” she said before he could speak again, “that he wasn’t really in a VA program like he said?”
“We’re still trying to determine that, ma’am. It’s an ongoing investigation.” But it gave Delta a clue. “You’re sure that’s what he told you?”
She lied, and he could tell from the way her gaze darted. “He said he was in an experimental drug program for pain management but he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about it.”
He didn’t want to call her o
n her lies in case they could find another reason to talk to her.
Figures. Our damn luck, we meet a cute girl, and her brother just died.
“Are you going to work, ma’am?” He certainly couldn’t admit they’d been following her.
Another snort. Her gaze dropped to her lap. “I tried. When I told my boss what happened he ordered me to go home. Would you believe another guy died, too?” Her focus returned to him. “Paul Waxler. Both him and John Bailey disappeared for three damn days and returned with doctor notes saying they’d been receiving ‘treatments.’ Didn’t say what kind. And Stu disappeared, too, same time. Waxler and Bailey were both vets, too. Whatever that shit is, don’t be shocked if Bailey turns up dead, too. I suspect they were in the same program as Stu.”
He pulled out his phone and typed in the names with her spelling them for him. He didn’t want her to know Lima had already tapped into their HR records.
That might be hard to explain.
“I’ll make sure the detectives working both cases are talking to each other,” he said. He hated making her promises he damn well couldn’t keep, but there was a larger picture to keep in mind, bigger than one beautiful, heartbroken woman.
They returned to the car and reported what they learned to Lima.
“So why didn’t she tell you the truth?” Lima mused.
Juju shook his head. “Honestly? I think she’s planning on trying for a little revenge of her own.”
Delta slowly nodded. “I think he’s right.”
“Revenge, how?” Lima asked.
“She works in a computer system for county government. Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s got some hacking skills of her own. She might want to be out for blood, track them down herself.”
“Then we really need to keep an eye out,” Lima said. “We don’t need her stumbling into that warehouse.”
* * * *
The two guys were hunky, handsome. The one doing all the talking had brown hair and brown eyes and didn’t exactly strike her as a detective. The other had brown hair and gorgeous green eyes.
Figures. No rings on their hands. She meets two gorgeous hunks and here she sat, a blubbering, snot-drooling mess.
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