Night Watch

by Susan Sleeman

  “Got the video from Mackenzie,” he said to Kennedy, who was sitting across the table littered with dishes from their takeout sandwiches and potato chips.

  Kennedy hurried around the end of the table, and he started the video playing from the lab’s main building. The security camera caught the man who’d gone into the lab scurrying across the parking lot, then darting over the highway, barely slipping in front of a semi-truck before racing down the bank to a small aluminum fishing boat moored in the river.

  “Didn’t expect that,” Erik said as the guy hopped into the boat and propelled slowly away from the shore.

  “Stop,” Kennedy cried out. “He threw something in the water. Go back and zoom in.”

  Erik rewound to that location and enlarged the frame. “A handgun. He’s pitching a handgun into the water.”

  Kennedy whipped her gaze to Erik. “He must not want to get caught with the gun.”

  Erik took a moment to calm his excitement. “Sounds likely. Attempted burglary is a class-three felony, but attempted burglary with a weapon is a class-two. Plus, he might’ve used that gun in another crime and doesn’t want it connected to him.”

  “We need to get over there and recover it.” She stepped back to leave.

  “Hold up. Let’s see if I can make out any boat registration details first.” He rewound the file again and zoomed in on the information on the hull of the boat as it pulled away from shore. He squinted, but the writing was too blurry to read.

  Kennedy twisted her hands together and then winced and rested her injured hand on the table. “We need to find that gun.”

  Erik didn’t want her going down there, and he especially didn’t want her heading to an area out in the open without a threat assessment. “It’s been three days. Other than the gun, we’d have no way of knowing if he left any other evidence behind or someone else did. And the gun could’ve washed downriver by now.”

  “We have to at least look for it.” She crossed her arms. “The area isn’t heavily trafficked, so odds are good that if we recover evidence, it’ll be from him.”

  “Fine.” Erik stood. “I’ll send Sierra.”

  “Someone has to dive for that gun, and that someone will be me. Plus, he could’ve dumped something else.”

  Erik had known this was coming. “We didn’t see him dump anything else.”

  “You never know.” She tightened her arms and narrowed her eyes.

  He still didn’t like this. “What about your hand? Is it a good idea to go into the water with open wounds?”

  “I can wear neoprene gloves.” She pled with her eyes. “Go back to your law enforcement days. If you were investigating this case, would you find the best diver you could to do the search? If I wasn’t doing the dive, would you call someone in?”

  “Yeah,” he said, wishing he didn’t have to admit it.

  “And you’d want the very best?”

  He nodded.

  “So let’s go.”

  He lifted his hand. “Not so fast. I don’t want to take you out there, but I will. To do it safely, we need to meet with my brothers and create a plan.”

  She sighed. “Every minute we wait is a minute evidence could be destroyed.”

  “And every minute we don’t plan is a minute you could be killed.” He planted his hands on the table. “This isn’t negotiable, Kennedy. We do it my way or not at all.”

  She jerked her head toward the hallway. “I could just walk out that door.”

  “You could, but I know you’re too smart to do that.” Her eyes weren’t softening at all. “Don’t make Finley lose her only living relative.”

  “Ooh, you don’t fight fair.” She propped her hands on her waist.

  “I’m only reminding you of what could happen,” he said, trying not to sound frustrated.

  “Fine.” She crossed her arms. “We do it your way. But it would be better to dive in the daylight, so let’s get your brothers together as fast as we can and get out there.”

  Kennedy clasped her seatbelt buckle, ready to click it open the minute Erik gave her the okay. After an hour-long meeting with the guys, then a thorough risk assessment, which took another hour, and finally another hour gathering supplies and loading the vehicles, she was jonesing to get into that river to locate the gun. Plus, see if there was any other item the suspect might’ve dumped but wasn’t visible on the video.

  Even with the plan, Erik was scoping out the area and talking to Sierra, who’d arrived an hour ago and set up a perimeter around the ground when the guy had run from the lab to the water.

  Not that Kennedy could see what Erik or Sierra were doing. He’d put blinds—sort of like sunshades—on all the widows so no one could see in. And over the back, he’d installed a tent so he could leave the tailgate open for her to exit the vehicle without being seen. The vehicle was bulletproof, but he said he didn’t want anyone to know she was in the SUV or they might be able to figure out she was planning another dive.

  Brendan was atop the lab building, keeping an eye on the area through his rifle scope, and the other brothers were erecting a tarp tunnel that extended from the SUV tent to the large boulders at the river’s edge. They’d recently started using these precautions when they protected a celebrity or any other person who might draw a crowd that they couldn’t protect against. Celebrity or not, with their precautions, she wouldn’t be seen by anyone but Charlie, who’d already strung ropes in the river for their perimeter.

  Kennedy might want to be out there with Charlie in the worse way, but she’d agreed to play by Erik’s rules. Problem was, at the time, she had no idea his rules would be so very restrictive.

  Kennedy’s phone chimed with a text, and she let go of her seatbelt to see a reply from Finley.

  If Mom had cancer, she didn’t tell me, and she didn’t seem sick.

  Thanks, Kennedy replied. It was probably just something she was interested in.

  The tent zipper razored open behind her, and she turned to see Erik step inside and cross to the tailgate. She took in the fine form he made in his wetsuit, which he’d put on so he could swap out oxygen tanks to save time on the dive when they ran out.

  He gave her a tight look. “We’re good to go.”

  She climbed over the seat. Not an easy task in a wetsuit that wanted to stick to the leather. Erik had asked her to get ready at the condo to limit the amount of time she was in the tent. She supposed she could’ve climbed into the suit in the vehicle, but anyone who’d ever squeezed their body into a wetsuit understood such a feat would be harder to accomplish there.

  She scooted to where her tank and remaining gear sat on the tailgate. “FYI, Finley replied to my text, and she said our mom never said she was sick and didn’t act sick.”

  “Probably just a teaching thing, then, but I’ll still ask an ME to let me know if it could be missed on autopsy.”

  “I sure hope it wasn’t. I’d hate to think she had cancer and was suffering through it alone.”

  “You could request her medical records, but I don’t know if you want to go there,” he said.

  “Let’s see what the ME says first. If blood cancers can be missed at autopsy, I might want to get her files.”

  “Sounds good. But you should know that if she did have cancer, suicide could be an even more compelling explanation for her death.”

  Kennedy didn’t want to think that way, but Erik was right. “Let me know when the ME gets back to you.”

  He nodded. “Let’s get going. You’ll go straight through the tent and tunnel and into the water. Try to remain above the surface for the least amount of time as possible. If you find the gun, send up a marker but don’t surface. Bring it in while submerged.”

  He’d already run this plan with her a few times now. She got it the first time, but she also got his need to be extra careful. “Sierra find anything?”

  “Washed out footprints. We’ve only had rain the one night since the guy tried to break in, so they’re pretty well intact. But that
doesn’t mean it’s our guy.”

  “But it could be.”

  “Yeah. Could be.” He frowned. “Sierra’s casting the prints, and she’ll compare them to footprints she lifted from the deck at your mom’s place.”

  “Not that it would move the investigation forward, but we would at least know it’s the same guy.”

  “Okay, let’s get started. Don’t take any risks on your diving safety.”

  “Don’t worry.” She rested a gloved hand on his arm. “You guys planned this to the nth degree. Besides, God’s watching over us.”

  “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

  “We all set?” Drake called from the tent entrance.

  “Ready.” She jumped down from the tailgate.

  Erik pressed on the hearing device lodged in his ear, which connected him with all of his brothers. “We good to go, Brendan?”

  She couldn’t hear Brendan’s response, but Erik’s firm nod told her all she needed to know. She took a step, but Erik grabbed her up in an awkward hug, his arms and hands trying to find purchase anywhere but on her oxygen tank. She circled her arms around his neck and took a deep breath of his masculine scent then quickly pushed away before the hug turned to a kiss.

  She started down the tunnel, the sense of danger pressing in on her like the darkness of the fabric surrounding her. She didn’t think this creep knew she was there. Not since they’d eliminated the tracker from her backpack and Erik had given it to Nick at the Veritas Center. He’d put it in a Faraday room with specially lined walls to stop electronic devices from sending or receiving outside signals.

  She put on her headgear and stepped onto a rock ledge in the water with her fins in her hand. The easiest way to put her fins on was to drop into the river with her buoyancy vest fully inflated so she would float and could easily strap them on by herself, but then she’d be exposed. She turned to look at Erik for the help they’d provided for each other on their many dives in the past.

  Without a word he stepped onto the rock and braced his legs wide.

  “Thanks,” she said. It might not be a good idea to keep touching him, but since she really didn’t have use of her dominant hand, being able to hold onto his shoulder with the injured one while she slid on her fins worked well.

  When she was finished, he gave her one last lingering look. “Be careful.”

  She dropped into the water and dove. Sunbeams filtered into the liquid and spread out with circles of white, undulating light. The water was green and cloudy, but she could clearly see the silty bottom today. Charlie was waiting for her, and he gave her a thumbs-up. She grabbed onto the rope with her uninjured hand and pulled forward, keeping her focus trained down at the bottom.

  She filtered through several beer cans, a fishing lure, even an old disintegrating wooden oar as she moved the full length of the first rope. Her hand hurt from dragging it along the bottom, feeling for anything, but she’d worked in more pain than this, and this dive was for her mother. She came up empty-handed and started down the other rope, passing by Charlie, who traveled behind her. Up and down she went until they’d covered their entire search area and her hand screamed for her to call it quits. But she wouldn’t give in. She’d do another search downstream.

  Together, she and Charlie relocated the rope downriver and continued swimming until her tank ran out of oxygen. She replaced it with Erik’s help and went back to work, loving the silky smooth feel of the water as it glided over her body. She might have been enjoying the water, but hope faded with each fresh oxygen tank. But finally…finally…after four tanks and nearly as many hours, her hand slid over a solid metal object. Her injured hand throbbed too hard to grab the item, so she looped her arm around the rope and released the item from the silt with her good hand.

  Ah-ha. A handgun. A Glock to be specific.

  She anchored a marker next to it and signaled for Charlie to take photos with the underwater camera. When he’d finished, she bagged the gun and tucked the bag in her vest then swam one-handed for shore.

  “Got the weapon, and I’m coming in,” she announced over their communication device.

  “Excellent.” Erik’s excited voice played through her ear. “Stay submerged at the rocks until I check with Brendan and give the all-clear.”

  “Roger that,” she said, feeling like an agent, not a crime scene investigator.

  She had to admit the adrenaline rush from the added danger pumped through her body and made her feel nearly invincible. But she wasn’t invincible—not by half—and she had to remember that and listen to Erik’s directives if she wanted to stay alive.

  Erik let out a long breath through his teeth as Drake cranked the SUV’s powerful engine. Erik sounded like a leaky tire as he released his adrenaline from watching Kennedy dive in an unprotected river. But now she was safely back in the vehicle, where no one could harm her.

  “You okay, bro?” Drake asked. “No signs of the anthrax, right?”

  Another thing to sigh over. The brotherly check-in.

  “I’m fine.” Erik tried not to snap.

  “Then why the sigh?”

  “It’s nothing,” Erik said, though it was everything to have Kennedy sitting safely behind him.

  He swiveled to look at her, not surprised to see her biting her lip. She’d been wincing in pain since she’d surfaced with the gun.

  Drake glanced up at the mirror as he shifted into gear. “No anthrax symptoms for you either? I hate to ask, but you know my mom.” He grinned.

  “She just wants to be sure we’re okay, so feel free to ask me. I’m fine.”

  Erik appreciated her kind reply, especially when she was so stressed. Drake started to back out, but Sierra rushed their way, waving her arms.

  Drake shifted into park, and Erik motioned for his sister to climb in the backseat so they didn’t compromise the vehicle security by leaving a window open while they talked.

  She slid in next to Kennedy. “Found something I thought you guys would want to know about right away.”

  Erik swiveled to look between the seats in time to see Sierra hand a plastic bag to Kennedy.

  She studied the bag. “What is this?”

  “A prickly caterpillar bean,” Sierra said.

  Kennedy passed the evidence bag to Erik. He’d never seen anything like the reddish-and-white striped curly bean with tiny spikes running along the edge. He gave the bag back to Sierra. “How do you know about this, but more importantly, what does it have to do with our investigation?”

  “I had to research the beans for a previous investigation. They aren’t native to Oregon. The beans are a French heirloom, and the seeds are hard to come by. Likely only a very avid gardener or a plant collector would have this plant in their garden.”

  “Why do you think it was here then?” Kennedy asked.

  “My best guess is it caught on the suspect’s pant leg in his garden, and then it fell off near the river.”

  “Or it’s not from him at all,” Drake said.

  “Or that.” Sierra narrowed her gaze at their brother. “But the odds are just as good that it is from him. I found it near boot prints that I think match the prints I recovered from Wanda’s deck. I won’t know if I have a definitive match until the cast cures.”

  “Which will be when exactly?” Erik asked.

  “Three days.” Sierra and Kennedy said the words at the same time then laughed.

  “We can’t wait that long.” Erik knew he was scowling at them, but come on. Three days of not having an answer when Kennedy’s life was in danger was too long. “We’ll go ahead and cross-reference gardening and biology against the list of Responsible Officials.”

  “I thought you didn’t have that yet,” Drake said.

  “Not yet,” Erik said, trying to sound optimistic. “But I’m sure someone will come through for us.”

  “Sure,” Drake said. “We might get it, but it could take longer than the cast curing.”

  Erik clenched his jaw and wished his brother di
dn’t feel the need to point out every problem. Erik worked hard not to snap at him. “Until we get the list, we can go back through Wanda’s contacts to see if we can find a gardening connection there.”

  “That sounds like a good plan, Erik.” Kennedy fired a testy look at Drake.

  Erik’s mouth almost fell open. She was sticking up for him, as she’d often done in the past. In those instances, he’d always thought about what a wonderful partner and mother she would be. Championing her husband and children more than anything else. And he’d lost out on that when she’d said goodbye to him.

  But you have another chance.

  He shook his head, hoping the idea he wasn’t ready to face would disappear, but it lingered. He turned his focus to Sierra. “Anything else, or can we get Kennedy back to the office?”

  “That’s all for now, but I’ll have Grady run ballistics on the gun after I print it, and I’ll let you know what I find.”

  Erik was thankful this scene hadn’t been taken over by the task force, or Sierra wouldn’t be able to share her findings. But it was just a matter of time before they discovered the same information and took over.

  Sierra rested a hand on Kennedy’s arm. “Keep up your spirits. We might not have anything concrete now, but we’ll figure this out.”

  Kennedy smiled. “I know, and thank you for taking time from your leave to do this work.”

  “Are you kidding? I love my son, but I’m ready to get back to this.”

  “So you’re going back to work, then?”

  “Part-time at first. We’ve found a great nanny, and there are perks of living in the building, I can pop upstairs whenever Asher needs me. It’s the perfect scenario.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Can we end the baby talk and get going?” Erik asked.

  “Just wait until you have a child.” Sierra grinned at him. “Then let’s see who’ll be wrapped up in baby talk.”

  She slipped out of the SUV before Erik could get out a rebuttal and marched back to the protected scene.

  Drake finally got them on the road, and Erik tapped the dashboard to connect to his phone and send a group text to the people who were looking into the Responsible Official list to light a fire under them.