by Rebecca Deel
“What do you know about White, Minter, and Maxwell, Commander?” Torres asked.
Brent recounted what he’d learned from Zane. “The bottom line is, these guys want something or they wouldn’t have taken Alexa. Who wants to deal with a crying kid for days?”
“You expect us to believe you don’t know what these guys want?” Hank tossed his empty soda can into the trash before turning to glare at Brent and Rowan. “How stupid do you think we are?”
“He’s telling you the truth,” Rowan said. “Brent asked me to put the call from the kidnapper on speaker. The kidnapper wants records that Jay must have kept, but I don’t know what he’s after. I hope I can find them for Alexa’s sake.”
“If you find them, you turn them over to us,” Crenshaw insisted.
Brent and Rowan spent another hour rehashing information and answering more questions, all without much insight into what the feds had learned. So much for cooperation, Brent thought, disgusted.
“I’ve got a phone call to make,” Hank muttered. “You can handle the rest, Junior.” The FBI agent grabbed his cell phone and left the room.
Torres studied Brent’s face a moment. “What else do you have, Commander?”
“You’re sure I have more information?”
A snort. “Please. You’re a SEAL. We always know more than we share voluntarily.”
“Heather Maxwell stopped by Rowan’s coffee shop the afternoon before she died. She left a flash drive with an encrypted file on it for Rowan to keep safe.”
“You decoded the file, didn’t you?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Don’t yank my chain, Commander.” Torres moved closer and dropped his voice. “I know Fortress’s reputation. You have the top people in the business working for you, including Zane Murphy. So what’s on the file?”
“Give me an email address. I’ll send it to you.”
A couple minutes later, Torres’s cell phone signaled. The FBI agent tapped on his screen and opened the file, whistled. “Do you know the connection between the militia groups and the international terrorists?”
“Not yet. My main concern is finding Alexa.”
The other man glanced toward the hotel room door. “What do know about the militia groups?”
“Cut to the chase, Torres.” Brent hated playing games and was surprised at Torres’s willingness to do so. He didn’t seem the type.
“You think the militia groups might be behind the Maxwell’s death?”
“I don’t know anything, but I suspect Keith Phillips is behind Alexa’s disappearance. Taylor is working on figuring out who killed the Maxwells.”
“Why zero in on Phillips? There are five other men on this list.”
“True, but the other five group leaders haven’t been making trips to Mexico.”
Torres scowled. “You suspect Phillips because he’s going on vacation?”
Brent’s temper spiked. “In Navarro territory?” he asked.
The SEAL groaned. “Ah, man. You telling me Phillips is dabbling in drugs?”
“Seems he’s ambitious, wanting to fund gun purchases.”
“Fantastic. ATF and DEA will love this.”
“Your turn, Master Chief.”
“We’ve come up with squat on Alexa,” he muttered. “Crenshaw is more interested in staying safe until he retires than tackling a case that smacks of danger. You’ve given us more information than we’ve managed to dig up in the last two days.”
Not what Brent wanted to hear.
“Here’s my best advice. If you want to stay free to help Rowan and Alexa, act like you’re cooperating. Crenshaw is old school and has a big ego. If he thinks you aren’t giving him the respect his badge deserves, he’ll make it his mission to see you behind bars. You won’t be able to help either of your ladies if that happens.” Another glance toward the still closed door. “If Alexa is at Phillips’ compound, you need to get her out of there, fast.”
“What do you know, Torres?”
“Same as you. Nothing concrete. Just rumors there’s a raid planned of all the militia compounds on this list in the next few days.”
Brent’s stomach knotted. If the feds didn’t know about Alexa’s presence, that sweet little girl might end up caught in the crossfire.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“What are we doing?” Rowan stared through the windshield as Brent drove toward Heather’s house. Darkness had fallen and the evening air was growing cold. “We can’t waltz in there. Heather’s house is still a crime scene and Detective Taylor hasn’t released it yet. Besides, with our luck, a neighbor will see us at the house and call the police. I don’t fancy explaining to Detective Taylor why I chose to break the law. He’ll toss us behind bars and lose the key.”
“Don’t have a choice, baby. Not with Alexa’s safety on the line.” He flashed her a quick grin. “However, SEALs don’t waltz anywhere. We sneak in with silent steps. No one knows we’re there until it’s too late to escape.”
How could he joke at this situation? Although they needed inside the house, Rowan didn’t want to spend time behind bars. How would she explain to Alexa that her aunt had spent time in the pokey? Talk about setting a bad example.
“Sweetheart, it will be all right.” Brent laced his fingers through hers. “We’ll go in from the back. If we’re careful, no one will know we’re inside the house. We have to know what the kidnappers want. This is the easiest, fastest way. If we’re lucky, we’ll find what we need here. If not, we’ll move on to Maxwell’s business.”
She sighed. “Sorry. I’m just worried. I don’t know where to start or what I’m looking for. How will I know if I’m seeing the right thing?”
“We’ll figure it out. The kidnapper must think you’ll recognize the importance of what you find. Try to remember places where Heather might hide things of importance.”
“Why not places Jay might hide something? He’s the one who hid the records.” Heather wasn’t known for her bravery when it came to defying her husband’s orders. If she had been, Rowan would have been able to talk her sister into leaving her abusive husband before it was too late.
“She might have left something for you explaining the file. Jay didn’t know she’d left a copy of the file with you and neither did the kidnapper. You wouldn’t know what to do with the file unless you’ve been holding out on me about your code-cracking abilities.”
Rowan gave a short laugh. “Heather was the one into codes and the key to crack them. I might have figured it out eventually, but I still wouldn’t have known what the information meant.” In her view, Adam Walker was amazing. To crack Heather’s code in a day was nothing less than a miracle as far as she was concerned and made her wonder in passing about the operative’s background.
Brent was silent a moment. “You’re an intelligent woman, Rowan. Heather trusted you to find out the truth and know how to handle it.”
Maybe. Heather questioned her about her friends and co-workers, asking about everything imaginable. The one person Heather showed the most interest in was Brent. Rowan’s cheeks burned. Her sister must have known Rowan had a crush on the sexy operative. Heather had been her confidant. Now who would she share secrets with? “She likely expected me to ask you for help.”
Brent’s hand squeezed hers. “Why would she assume that? We haven’t even been on a date yet, something I plan to remedy as soon as we have Alexa home safe, by the way.”
“I’ll keep my social calendar free.” Her heart skipped a beat at his use of the plural pronoun. Alexa wasn’t related to him, yet he appeared as concerned about the girl as Rowan. “Because Jay wouldn’t let Heather spend time with many people, the people in my life interested her. Co-workers, friends, you.”
He sent a grin her way. “Talked about me, huh? All good, I hope.”
“Couldn’t be anything except good. I told her your name and my impressions of you, the small snippets of information you let slip in our conversations over the past year.” Rowan
’s heart leaped into her throat as a horrible thought crossed her mind. “Oh, Brent. If Heather knew I might share the file with you, then she must have researched you on the Internet. I’m so sorry. She might have led the wrong people to your doorstep.” She groaned. “Maybe that’s why someone broke into your house.”
Another hand squeeze. “I know who broke into my house. I have surveillance footage of him. He used to be on my payroll. Beyond that, I’m the face of Fortress, Rowan. While I keep a low profile, my name is out there along with basic information. Perhaps Heather found enough in her research to convince her you’d be safe with me and that I had the resources to help.”
Her sister was smart, with the exception of her marriage to Jay Maxwell. “The only thing I regret is that she didn’t meet you. Heather would have liked you.”
“What about you?”
Rowan twisted in her seat. “What do you mean?” she hedged.
“How do you feel about me, sweetheart?”
Her free hand clenched the door handle. “You first.”
“Fair enough. I’m crazy about you, Rowan Scott. I’ve called you my girlfriend for the past twenty-four hours. I like the label and if feels right to me. I’d like for the label to be real. I know I’m asking a lot, Rowan, given the circumstances we’re in and my job. I’m asking you to give us a chance as a couple anyway. Will you take the risk?”
With him driving, Rowan couldn’t unbuckle her seat belt, leap into his arms, and kiss him senseless. For such a smart man, Brent Maddox didn’t know how to read her. “I wouldn’t want to make you a liar.”
Brent’s head whipped her direction. “You’re serious? You’ll agree to an exclusive relationship while we see where this is going?”
A soft laugh escaped. “Brent, I’m crazy about you, too. Dating you won’t be a hardship, believe me.”
“Despite knowing what I do for a living and the danger in being associated with me?”
Rowan decided it was time to own up to her feelings. “You’re worth every risk. I’ve been hoping for months you would ask me out. If you had waited much longer, I would have asked you myself.”
“Thank goodness,” he muttered. “Didn’t want to make a fool of myself assuming you felt the same as I did.”
“You don’t have to wonder any more, Brent. The answer is yes.” Enough mush for now. Time to refocus on the job at hand. “So what’s the plan for breaking into Heather’s house?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a big house. With only two of us, it will take forever to look in all the potential hiding places.”
“We’ll start with the obvious rooms. I’ll take Jay’s office. If he hid records at home, it’s likely to be in there. You check the places where Heather kept things she didn’t want Jay to find.”
Well, that was easy enough. Heather’s bedroom and Alexa’s room or the playroom. Another separation Jay insisted on. He didn’t like anyone to know a child lived in the house, so he insisted all the toys be kept in the playroom. Personally, Rowan couldn’t wait until Alexa’s toys were strewn all over the apartment. She would know her niece was safe.
Brent parked on the street behind Heather’s place, in the shadow of a large tree. His black SUV wouldn’t be seen easily. He shut off the engine, captured her chin with the palm of his hand, and kissed her thoroughly. When he drew back, he said, “Thank you for taking that leap with me.”
Rowan dragged him back for another deep kiss. “I’m looking forward to our first date.”
He smiled. “Me, too. Be thinking about what you want to do.”
“After all this excitement, I’m thinking something normal like dinner and a movie.” She paused. “What about Alexa? I can’t leave her so soon.”
“I can take you both out, or I’ll bring in dinner and we’ll watch a movie in your living room or mine. My two ladies are a package deal.”
Those words melted her heart. Brent Maddox was a keeper with a heart of gold.
They walked through an unfenced yard to the back edge of Heather’s place. Rowan stared at the fence looming in front of her, then glanced around for something to climb on. Despite her height, Rowan wasn’t tall enough to make the leap up and over. She needed a chair or bench.
“Here,” Brent murmured as he knelt in front of her, hands cupped for Rowan’s foot. “Bend your knees when you drop to the ground to absorb the impact.”
Okay, then. That worked. A boost from her handsome boyfriend was good. Brent quickly lifted her. Rowan grasped the fence and hauled herself over the top. She landed with a soft thump. Nice. Bending her knees muted the sound and absorbed the impact.
She turned in time to see Brent leap up, grab the top of the fence, and clear it almost in one motion. His landing was nearly soundless. She wondered if he might teach her to do that, but decided once she had Alexa back, the breaking-and-entering portion of her life would be over.
Brent clasped her hand and led her to the back door, scanning the area as they crossed the yard. He nudged her against the wall of the house and crouched in front of the knob, a small black bag in his hand. With quick, sure movements, Brent pulled out thin tools and went to work on the lock. Lock picks.
She had to smile at his skill. More military training? She suspected he’d picked up many interesting, less-than-legal skills in his time with the SEALs. Seconds later, he stood and eased the door open. After motioning for her to wait, he slipped into the darkened interior.
When he returned, Brent signaled for her to follow him inside.
The belongings in the house were still jumbled. Cleaning this place would be a huge undertaking. Just the idea of having to sort and box Heather’s and Jay’s stuff made her stomach knot in dread. She wouldn’t have a problem dealing with Jay’s belongings. Sorting Heather’s things, though, would hurt, reinforcing the truth her sister was gone. Rowan would need a box of tissues at hand.
“You okay, baby?” Brent whispered in her ear.
Rowan realized she’d been standing in the same place since they walked inside. She nodded. “Just thinking how hard it will be to deal with Heather’s belongings. I’m not looking forward to it.”
“I’ll help and so will the Doucets and Murphys. You won’t have to face the task alone.”
“Thanks.” She brushed his mouth with hers. To deal with this house in a timely manner would take an army of volunteers. One thing at a time, she reminded herself. Her first concern was Alexa. The rest would be dealt with in time.
When she reached for the light switch, Brent caught her hand. He shook his head. Right. Turning on the lights would be a sure sign of their presence in the house.
Rowan frowned. How would they see to find the records? It was too dark to do more than stumble over things now out of place.
Brent reached into his pocket and pulled out two small flashlights. “Aim the beam at the floor so you can see where you’re going. As long as the light doesn’t pass over the windows, no one will know we’re here,” he whispered.
She flicked on the light and discovered the beam was razor thin but powerful. Hmm. More military-type equipment? She could use one of these herself when the electricity was off, a regular occurrence at her place.
“Be as quiet as possible.” Brent dropped a quick kiss on her mouth before releasing her and heading toward Jay’s office.
Rowan hurried after him, turning off at Heather’s doorway. She stood at the threshold for a moment, wondering where to start. Her sister stashed things in several places. Rowan felt a pressing need to find the information the kidnappers wanted and get out of this house. This place was spooky in the gloom and she saw items reminding her of Heather everywhere she looked.
She went to the walk-in closet first and shoved aside clothes on the right side. A loose board on the floor in the corner was one of Heather’s favorite places to hide things from Jay.
She pried the board up with the shoe horn her sister left for that purpose. Rowan aimed the light into the darkened cavity. A black velve
t bag lay at the bottom.
Frowning, she grabbed the bag and opened the top. Inside were several pieces of jewelry Rowan recognized. They belonged to their mother. She hadn’t seen these pieces for years, had been afraid they were lost. Guess Jay hadn’t liked them and Heather hid the heirlooms to safeguard them.
Knowing the items were now hers and had nothing to do with their quest, Rowan shoved the velvet bag into her pocket. She shined the light into the darkened cavity again and saw an envelope with her name scrawled on it in her sister’s handwriting.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Brent walked across Jay Maxwell’s office to his desk, picking his way through the mess left behind in the kidnappers’ wake. Drawers had been upended, the contents dumped on the floor.
He hated to move the piles of debris, but couldn’t afford to leave his shoe prints on the papers, a dead giveaway to Taylor that someone else had been in the place after the crime scene team swept through a second time. The Navy SEAL would guess there was a good chance Brent would return to the house. Guessing that Brent searched the house and knowing it were two different things.
Since the kidnappers hadn’t found the records in the desk drawers, Brent yanked on a pair of thin gloves and pulled the drawers out of the desk. One by one, he flipped them over to see if something had been taped to the bottom. No luck.
He did, however, notice that two of the desk drawers were shorter than they should have been. Crouching in front of the desk, Brent examined the desk wall with the flashlight.
A false back. Good workmanship, too. If Brent hadn’t been looking for this, he wouldn’t have noticed it. He felt along the edges. Near the top was a slight depression in the wood, about the size of a thumb print.
Brent pressed against the false wall and the panel moved slightly. By feel, he forced the gap to widen by sliding the panel to the left. Picking up the flashlight again, he aimed the light at the back of the desk.
A black book was propped against the wall. Satisfaction swelled inside Brent. Hopefully, this was what the kidnappers were after. He eased the book free.