The old man shrugged. “You tell me.”
Reaper shook his head and pulled on the handle to open the door.
“You can’t run from your problems, friend.”
Reaper stopped. “Did the wind tell you to say that?”
The old man grinned. “No, it was from the fortune cookie I ate last night. But it’s sage advice, isn’t it, Running Man?”
Reaper sighed and entered the building without responding. Inside, he found two women. One worked over a piece of chewing gum while filing her nails, while the other was jotting down notes on a piece of paper while talking on the phone.
The woman doing her nails didn’t look up when she spoke. “Are you the new salesman?”
“No, I’m here on a legal matter.”
“A lawyer?” she asked as she made eye contact for the first time.
“Something like that,” he said.
“Where are you from? Portland?”
“Lincoln, Nebraska.”
Her eyes widened and she put down her filing board. “Welcome to Oregon. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone from Nebraska before.”
“It’s a lot like Oregon, just without the mountains.”
“Sorry to hear that,” she said before giving him a coy wink. “So, Mr. Legal Man, how can I help you?”
“It’s Ronald Kilgore, actually,” Reaper said, offering his hand, which the woman shook. “I’m looking for one of your ranch hands, a Mr. Travis Taylor?”
“What’d Travis do?” she asked in a sing-song voice. “Did he get behind on his alimony?”
“He has children?” Reaper asked.
She pointed at him and smiled. “I was just testing you.”
“Did I pass?”
“With flying colors, Mr. Kilgore.”
“Please, call me Ron.”
“Okay, Ron. Now, what is this legal matter concerning?”
“It’s actually confidential, but it’s imperative that I reach him as soon as possible.”
She frowned. “Unfortunately, he moved on to greener pastures, so to speak. He took a job elsewhere from what I understand.”
“Where’d he go?”
“That’s actually confidential, too. He told me not to let anyone know where he was headed. But if you have a message, I can probably get it to him.”
Reaper leaned forward on the counter and glanced over at the other woman in the back before locking eyes with Miss Immaculate Nails. “I shouldn’t say this, but he’s come into quite a handsome sum of money due to an inheritance. I need his signature to execute the will.”
She eased toward him and talked in a whisper. “Your secret is safe with me.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a business card. “Here’s my number. Have him give me a call after you contact him.”
But Reaper wasn’t done. He pulled out a pen and was feigned as if he was about to write something down. When he did, he dropped it behind the counter.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m such a klutz sometimes.”
“No problem,” the woman said as she took her time in bending over to pick up the pen for Reaper.
However, he wasn’t interested in anything but getting his bug onto her office phone. And she gave him all the time he needed.
“Here you go,” she said.
Reaper thanked her and then walked out of the office. He nodded at the Wisdom Giver and smiled.
“Peace be with you, friend,” the old man said.
If only it was that easy.
Reaper climbed into the cab of his truck and turned on his listening device. The woman at the front desk wasted no time in calling Travis Taylor. And Reaper heard the whole conversation.
“Travis, this is Jennifer. How have you been?”
“Good and you?”
“Never better, though I miss seeing you in the office every day.”
“Why’d you call?” Taylor asked, ignoring her flirtatious comment.
“I just got a visit from a Nebraska lawyer. Apparently, you’ve come into quite a bit of money from an inheritance, and he needs your signature to execute the will.”
“Quite a bit of money, huh?”
“That’s what he said.”
Taylor grunted. “Tell him thanks but no thanks. I’m not interested.”
“Shouldn’t you at least come talk with him?”
“I can’t just leave, Jenny. You know that. Besides, what would I do with that money anyway?”
“You could live somewhere else, couldn’t you?”
“The range is my home now,” Taylor said. “But thanks for letting me know, but I don’t want it and don’t need it.”
Taylor hung up.
Reaper punched the steering wheel, frustrated over yet another apparent dead end.
CHAPTER 15
Los Angeles
MORGAN DROVE TO THE gates of Paramount Studio’s back entrance before venturing underground to the Magnum Group’s parking lot. The guard at the gate glanced at her security card and smiled as he waved her inside. She descended two more levels before parking and entering the facility.
“Morning, Director May,” a young man said as she walked in the door. “I’ve got a few documents for you to sign.”
“Just put them on my desk,” she said. “I need to make the rounds.”
Morgan loved to travel, but her office felt more like home. Everyone smiled as she passed them in the hallway, though Morgan wasn’t sure if that was because she was the boss or they genuinely were happy to see her. She tried to cultivate a fun environment at the Magnum Group complex, which was a substantial challenge given the stress they were constantly under to deliver. Procuring safety wasn’t an easy task in an age where danger could be launched, hacked, or initiated from thousands of miles away with the push of a button.
Dr. Zachary Levinson, better known as Dr. Z, was standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall and fiddling with a device in his hands.
“Good morning, Dr. Z,” Morgan said.
He put his index finger to his lips but didn’t look up.
“What are we doing here?” she whispered.
Dr. Z didn’t answer as a slight grin spread across his lips. Morgan squinted, straining to see the screen. But she couldn’t distinguish anything noteworthy.
She was about to say something again when Dr. Z pumped his fist and twirled a full three hundred and sixty degrees on the heels of his wingtips. He used his free hand to adjust his bowtie before looking at Morgan.
“Are you aware of the saying, ‘If only I was a fly on the wall …’?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Now, you can be.”
Morgan shrugged. “We’ve had microscopic drones for years.”
“But not like this,” Dr. Z said. “This little guy can not only record everything in the room using fiber-optic cameras that can capture everything around him three-dimensionally, but it can also tap into any local networks and download information stored on nearby hard drives. In fact, be careful because there’s one in your hair right now.”
Morgan jumped back and rubbed her fingers through her hair.
Dr. Z broke into a hearty laugh. “I’m teasing you, Director. But that was quite the reaction.”
She stopped and narrowed her eyes. “Where is it?”
“On my shoulder,” Dr. Z said as he pointed to a small dot, about half the size of a fly resting on his tweed sports coat. “This little guy will make collecting intel a cinch as long as we can get it inside an office building. It will be the end of embedding assets and risking their lives.”
“That wasn’t funny,” she said, pointing at him. “But good work.”
Dr. Z nodded and thanked her before scurrying down the hall. He took a few steps and leaped into the air before clicking his heels together.
“He sure is happy,” said a man in a lab coat as he walked past Morgan.
“When have you ever seen Dr. Z upset about anything?”
“Come to the lab,” he sa
id, holding up a manila file folder without looking back. “Especially on Mondays.”
“What have I created here?” she asked aloud. “This is like Animal House for nerds.”
“But at least there’s more to what we’re doing than winning a petty Greek war,” said Big Earv as he strode up to Morgan.
“Can you help me get this under control?” she asked.
Big Earv furrowed his brow. “Have you seen my wand?”
She cocked her head to one side. “Your wand?”
“Yeah, because I’d have to be a magician to get this place under control.”
“Funny,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
He chuckled. “For the record, this place ranks as my favorite when it comes to work environments.”
Another man in a lab coat zipped by them in the hallway on a hoverboard.
She stared in disbelief. “What the—”
“While you were gone, Dr. Z installed magnets in the floor,” Big Earv said. “Something about it increasing productivity as well as enabling him to test out some new inventions. You know how Dr. Z is.”
“Sometimes I’m not sure if it’s me or everyone else in this place is certifiable.”
Big Earv patted her on the back. “Welcome back, Chief.”
Morgan continued her march down the hall toward the conference room. She stopped by her office to grab a few documents before entering the meeting, which was waiting on her to begin. After dropping her folders on the table with a thud, the talking ceased.
“I see everyone took advantage of my absence to enjoy themselves,” Morgan said.
Dr. Z chuckled. “We always enjoy ourselves here.”
“Thank you for that, Magneto.”
He cocked his head and stared at her.
“That’s right,” Morgan said. “I heard about how you altered the floors in the hallway.”
Dr. Z held his hands out. “It’s in my contract.”
“Okay,” she said as she stood and then started to pace, “let’s put that aside for a moment and get down to business. We’ve got trouble lurking with The Alliance as well as with Hawk and Alex in Bogotá. So, what I want to know is if we’re making any progress on those fronts.”
Big Earv shook his head. “I got a text from Hawk last night. They’re still trying to sort out the situation with the ambassador. Nothing definitive to report yet.”
“And what about the files I gave you, Mia?” Morgan said as she stared at the infamous hacker. “You find anything yet?”
“Nothing yet, ma’am,” Mia said. “But we’re still working on it.”
Morgan groaned as she sat down. “We have to be diligent here. There are forces at play that don’t want any of this information leaking out to the general public. If we can expose The Alliance, we might be able to out more than a few bad apples in Washington, resulting in a safer world. That can’t be overstated. Does everyone understand the gravity of this situation?”
Everyone nodded at the table.
“Good,” Morgan said. “I expect status reports from all department heads before the end of the day. Now, let’s get to it.”
She dismissed the meeting, sending the team scurrying back to their posts to look more closely at the intelligence the Magnum Group had already gathered.
* * *
BY THE END of the day, Morgan had sifted through pages of reports from her staff. Nothing appeared overly promising, but she could tell everyone was doing their due diligence. They just so happened to be facing formidable foes, undoubtedly former professionals who know when to zig before government trained agents zagged.
She sighed and shook her head, unsure of how long it would take to catch whoever was behind the DEA undercover murders or who was pulling the strings for The Alliance. Both of those problems haunted Morgan whenever she laid her head down on her pillow. Unsecured portals posed a significant problem. So did a shadow organization unable to be checked.
“What would Uncle J.D. do?” she asked aloud.
It was a question she had asked herself plenty of times since taking the reins at the Magnum Group. But she rarely had an answer. She hesitated to call him, yet having reached a dead end felt like she didn’t have a choice.
“Uncle J.D.,” she said as he answered the phone.
“Morgan, honey. How are you?” he asked.
“I’d be better if I could bend your ear for a few minutes and get some wisdom from you.”
J.D. Blunt chuckled. “How is it that I’ve become much smarter since you were in college?”
“Coincidence,” she said with a smirk. “Now, I don’t want to waste any more of your time than I have to, Uncle. I know you’re probably baiting a hook right now or reading a book, but I need some advice.”
“Sure, honey. What is it?”
Morgan explained the situation regarding the impasse her staff had reached with The Alliance.
“When I used to work for George Bush at the agency, do you know what he told me once?”
Morgan shook her head. “No. What did he say?”
“He said, ‘J.D., when you feel like you can’t push any more, dig deep and keep pushing.’”
“And what exactly does that mean?”
“It means, keep going. The answer will reveal itself eventually, but you can’t give up. There’s too much at stake to stop, so keep pushing.”
She sighed. “Okay, thanks, Uncle J.D. Now, go catch a boatload of fish.”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
She ended the call and stared at the documents on her desk.
Keep pushing.
Two hours later, she glanced at her watch and realized it was already 8 p.m.
“Miss May, I’ll see you in the morning,” her assistant said. “Don’t stay all night.”
Morgan smiled and bade her a good evening before collecting her files and stuffing them into her briefcase. She exited the building and approached her car, which appeared to have a note stuffed into the side of the door.
“What’s that?” she asked, trying to determine what it was.
She snatched it loose and read the note.
Leave well enough alone.
What is this?
Morgan raced back into the office and scooted the security guard aside as she started typing on his keyboard.
“What’s this all about?” the guard asked.
“Did you see anyone prowling around the parking deck this evening?” she asked.
“No, just the people going home. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
She found a camera that had her car in focus the whole time. Carefully scrubbing the video backward, she watched for someone to place the note in her car. However that never happened.
“Look at this,” Morgan said. “This note on my car just suddenly appears. How did that happen?”
The guard leaned over her shoulder and studied the image again, this time slowed down four times the speed of the original. But the moment it happened, she couldn’t see anything.
His eyes widened as he looked at the monitor. “I don’t know what to tell you, Director. That seems impossible.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” she said. “But I know it’s not.”
She reached in her purse and felt for her handgun. Then she tucked it into the back of her pants and returned to her car.
The threat had just entered her own house—and she couldn’t even see it.
CHAPTER 16
Bogotá, Colombia
DUE TO DÍAZ’S WOUND, Hawk took over the driving duties. Díaz laid down in the backseat, while Alex put pressure on where the bullet entered his shoulder in an effort to stop the bleeding. He said a prayer in Spanish and shouted directions to Méderi, one of the city’s top hospitals. It was farther away, but Díaz explained he wouldn’t risk getting treatment for a gunshot wound anywhere else. He also shouted something about the Vargas family being on the board of the other hospital and they might not let him leave.
Hawk zipped through
traffic, taking advantage of the red flashing light on the dashboard. But it also served as a homing beacon for the cartel. As he wove his way through creeping vehicles on the highway, he noticed a dark van following them. Based on the headlights, the van was a newer model than the one that had just attacked them. But it was tailing them nonetheless.
“Detective, are there any other alternate routes?” Hawk asked. “I’m afraid we’re being followed.”
“It won’t matter,” Díaz said. “We’re almost there, but you’re going to need to leave as soon as possible.”
“Why?” Alex asked.
“Because whoever is behind us will storm the hospital and demand to see me,” Díaz said. “They’ll flash a gun and the people at the front desk will eagerly give them my room number. You can’t be anywhere near me when that happens.”
“So, are we just dropping you off at the door?” Hawk asked.
“Not a chance,” Díaz said. “They’ll follow you, knowing where and how to find me. But it’s you they want.”
“Us?” Hawk asked. “How do they even know who we are?”
“By now, every cartel from here to Cali knows who you are and what you look like,” Díaz said. “The best thing for you to do is get to the train station, clear out Sanchez’s locker, and get the hell out of Colombia.”
“And let you have all this fun by yourself?” Hawk said with a wry grin. “Not a chance.”
“I can assure you that your investigation has a better chance of being completed if you’re far away from Bogotá than if you’re inside this crazy city.”
He winced as Alex pressed down on shoulder, drawing a painful yelp from Díaz. “I think we should listen to him, Hawk. Think about little John Daniel.”
Hawk sighed. “I’ll think about it. But remember that we’re keeping little John Daniel safe by risking our lives here.”
“There’s a big difference between risking your lives and being foolish,” Alex said over a loud groan from Díaz.
“Fine,” Hawk said. “We’ll do it the detective’s way.”
“When you get to the hospital, ask for Miguel Montaña,” Díaz said. “He will help you get to the train station as discreetly as possible.”
“Alex,” Hawk said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Is the detective going to be all right?”
The Reaper (The Phoenix Chronicles Book 2) Page 8