by Aimée Thurlo
He laughed again. “Blunt and to the point. Good thing your dream didn’t involve working in the diplomatic corps.”
“People spend way too much time playing games and saying stuff they don’t mean instead of calling things the way they are.”
“You’re right about that,” he said, slowing down as they reached a gated, fenced-in compound.
As Kyle pulled up next to the guard’s shack, the Navajo man there recognized him and immediately smiled. “Hey, dude, how you been? Haven’t seen you since high school! I hear you’re a federal cop these days,” he said, peering into the car.
“That’s right, Justin. Do you want to see my ID?”
“Nah. Daniel called my boss and Clark told me to give you run of the warehouse. If there’s anything you need, just let me know,” he said, and handed him a set of keys. “Building C, second to the left. Just you and the lady, right?”
“Yeah, and we might be a while.”
“No problem. Just make sure you lock up and return the keys,” he said, waving them through.
After entering the compound, Kyle drove straight in, passing buildings A and B, on the left and right, before Erin pointed out the warehouse. It was a hundred yards farther away and constructed of sheet steel. A big water valve, painted red, was located at one end of the building, which had a loading dock and concrete parking barriers.
“Kind of small,” he commented, pulling into a parking slot, then bringing out his phone. “I was expecting something more like a big hangar.”
“It fits the company’s needs and it’s protected from fire, weather and burglars,” she said.
“You’ve been here before?” he asked.
“Once, a long time ago. It was part of my orientation. Hank wanted me to be familiar with every aspect of our business, so Clark gave me the guided tour.”
Inside, the warehouse felt cool; the air flow from overhead fans kept the temperature steady. The scent of chemicals was faint, much less than he’d expected.
As they walked from labeled section to section, they passed pallets of bagged chemicals stored in a basket weave pattern that maximized space. In the four corners of the room were metal storage containers, like those carried on railroad cars or container ships, each holding different types of high and low explosives with appropriate red diamond warning labels.
“I didn’t expect to see this much inventory in here,” Kyle said, looking around. “Let’s start by checking out the pallets of ammonium nitrate. Mix that with any number of other easily obtainable substances and you’ve got one of the cheapest, most available explosives in the world.”
After noting the layout and location of those three pallets, he counted the rows that held the fifty-pound dark blue plastic bags. “Ten high, and five bags in each level, three wide, two long, perfect squares. That’s a hundred and fifty bags total. It matches inventory,” he said, walking around to examine the sides of the stacks, “but I can’t see them from all four sides since they’re against the wall, and that’s a problem for me.”
“I remember a local hay farmer who ran into trouble when he got caught shorting his customers by stacking the bales a certain way. Is that what you’re thinking?” Erin asked.
“Yeah, and, stepping back, I think that center stack looks a little...skinny.”
“Only one way to find out.”
“Yeah, climb up and move around some bags,” Kyle replied, “and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Can I help?”
“Can you handle that much weight?”
“I’ve stacked bags of sand and mortar before, as well as fifty- to sixty-five-pound bales of alfalfa. Just don’t rush me, okay?”
Ten minutes later, after moving aside three layers of bags, they discovered that the inventory was short. Kyle called Preston. “I’ve got two bags missing, and combined with the right chemicals that’s a lot of explosive power. Did you get anything useful from the detonator I found in Leland’s office?”
“Daniel’s still working on that. I’m at his place right now, so why don’t you come over?”
“I’ll be there in twenty,” he said. “Anything on Frieda Martinez yet?”
“We have a BOLO out on her, but we already know she cut her hair, and by now she’s probably a brunette.”
“Good point, but remember what Erin mentioned about Frieda’s broken nose. That can cinch an ID.”
After he hung up, he glanced at Erin. “Tell me more about Frieda.”
“She was always upbeat around Hank and that never failed to improve his mood, but to me, it felt contrived—calculated. I looked deep into those feelings of mine, wondering if I was somehow jealous, but that wasn’t it. Her smile never reached her eyes, do you know what I mean? I got the feeling she was who she was by design, like someone playing a role.”
“Did you ever tell Hank how you felt?”
“No, it wasn’t my place. Hank was my boss. His private life—and mine—were off-limits.”
“His idea, or yours?”
She looked at him sharply, then relaxed. He hadn’t been baiting her. “I set those ground rules from day one, not just with Hank, but with all the employees. I didn’t want any complications or misunderstandings. That job was all I had.”
“Tell me something, just how close are you to buying back your father’s old field?”
“Taking raises into account, I figured that in another four years I’d have enough for a down payment on the land. Then, if I continued to watch my expenses, I’d hoped to be able to open Encanto Enterprises another four years after that.”
“Setting a long-term goal like that, and seeing it through, usually carries a price, more than just money.”
“I know. I’ve given up a lot of things I need just to stay on track. No one ever said it would be easy.”
Soon they were back on the road headed to Daniel’s place.
“My brother’s office is totally secure,” Kyle said. “He and his wife even lived there for a while after they got married.”
“But not now?”
“He was happy, but Holly wanted their home to be completely separate from business. Dan offered to build her a house on-site, but she didn’t go for it.”
He kept his eye on the rearview mirror, and made several evasive turns.
“Are we being followed?” she asked, glancing back.
“No. I’m making sure we aren’t.”
Erin remained silent a while. “The guys who killed Hank think I have the detonators and I understand why. Hank trusted me and instinct tells me that I should know where they are, but I don’t.” She expelled her breath in a hiss. “I’ve been trying to put myself in Hank’s head and figure out where he hid them but I’m getting nowhere.”
“Sometimes we beat things to death when what we need to do is let the idea come naturally. We’ll be at Dan’s soon. You’ll meet Paul there, too. Relax, and get to know my family. Maybe a little downtime is just what you need.”
“What if they’re watching Daniel’s place?”
He laughed. “If they try anything there, they’ll have more to worry about than we will. Guaranteed.”
Chapter Twelve
The fenced compound had an electronic gate and cameras mounted on tall posts. Yet as Kyle pulled up in his SUV, the gate automatically opened.
“Well, that’s not very secure,” she said.
Kyle laughed. “He has heat sensors and several other hidden gadgets monitoring the area. As soon as we turned up the access road, he knew exactly who we were. If we’d tried to crash the gate an electromagnetic pulse would have disabled the car. After that, we would have been outgunned.”
“But no one’s around,” she said, surprised.
“Trust me. Dan’s firm is on the leading edge when it comes to s
ecurity.”
As they approached the main building, two tough-looking Navajo men came out and stood by the door.
“The guy in black jeans and windbreaker, that’s Daniel. The one wearing slacks and a tie is Paul. He must have met with a client today. Come on in.”
Once inside, she noticed that the heavy steel door locked with a deep thud, like a bank vault.
Kyle introduced her, then followed his brothers to the office’s computer center. A huge, horizontal computer screen the size and configuration of a table rested adjacent to four large monitors next to each other on the wall.
Daniel tapped several keys, and a photo of the detonator they’d found on Hank’s desk came up on the table monitor. With a sweep of his fingertip he sent the image to one of the wall monitors. “I don’t know who you’re dealing with, Kyle, but this is serious stuff. The device is sophisticated, capable of being detonated by a remote signal even when security agencies are jamming cell-phone transmissions. These detonators are only available to special units of the Spanish military—the equivalent of our special forces, and were probably stolen. I’m trying to find out if Interpol has the serial numbers listed, and names of any suspects, but so far, no luck. These devices aren’t state-of-the-art, but close to it.”
“Can you forward your findings to my D.C. office?” Kyle asked him.
“Yeah, this terminal is secure. Do you want to encrypt it anyway?” Dan asked.
Kyle nodded. “Send it directly to Supervisory Agent Martin Hamilton. Here’s the email address. He’ll pick it up within seconds.”
True to what he’d predicted, Kyle’s satellite phone rang shortly thereafter. The transmission kept breaking up, so Kyle returned the call using one of Daniel’s phones rather than having to step outside for a clear sight line.
“Yes, the connection’s secure,” Kyle assured him a moment later.
Daniel led Paul and Erin into the kitchen. “Let’s give him some privacy,” he said.
“All those rules and regulations are going to strangle him,” Paul grumbled. “Kyle should come work for us.”
“He will,” Daniel said, “when he’s ready.” He looked at Erin and smiled. “This must seem like an alien world to you.”
“No, more like a man cave with too many remotes,” she answered. “I understand you lived here for a while?”
Daniel chuckled. “I found it homey, but my wife, not so much.”
Paul poured her a cup of coffee. “Sugar?”
“No, plain’s fine,” she said, and took it from his hands.
“There was an article a few weeks ago in our local newspaper about the overseas contract Hank Leland had landed with the DOD, building safe rooms at a naval base. It told everyone where Hank Leland was and what he would be doing. I’m assuming he gave the reporter that information, or at least confirmed it. Why the publicity?” Paul asked.
“Hank had been wanting to expand, but he knew he’d need the name recognition to bring in more contracts and revenue.”
“So what happens to the company now?” Paul asked.
She told him what she’d heard from Ron, Moe Jenner’s paralegal.
“Wait—Moe Jenner is Leland’s attorney?” Daniel asked her.
“Yeah, is something wrong?”
Just then Kyle walked in, and, glancing at their faces, added, “What’s going on?”
“Not sure yet,” Daniel said. “Let’s go back into the computer room. I’ve got something I want to check out.”
Daniel entered something into his computer, then looked up. “I was right. Since I saw the detonator, I’ve been keeping tabs on calls coming from the Hartley P.D. Earlier this morning Mrs. Jenner filed a missing person’s report on her ex—Moe Jenner.”
“Preston never said a word to me about it,” Kyle said.
“He may not have heard. Moe was supposed to meet his ex and give her a check for the balance of the mortgage on their house, but Moe never showed. She called his cell and home, but both kept going to voice mail. She also called his office and, again, got answering machines,” Daniel said. “The officers tracked down Ron Mora, Jenner’s paralegal, and were told that Moe left town just to make the divorcée wait an extra week. Ron had supposedly been out of the office on personal business, and hadn’t had a chance to return any calls.”
“So basically the police don’t consider him missing,” Kyle said.
“Ron may be right about the delay. There was a lot of bad blood between Moe and his wife,” Erin said.
“How do you know this?” Paul asked.
“Moe drops by the office every once in a while, and he and Hank share a drink. Although Hank’s office door is always shut, I still hear things.” Just then, they heard the door open and an attractive brunette walked in carrying two large paper sacks with a restaurant’s logo. The food smelled heavenly and made Erin’s mouth water. “Unless I miss my guess, you’ve got stuffed sopaipillas in there.”
“Hey, Holly,” Dan said, and went to give his wife a kiss.
“I brought lunch for everyone,” Holly said. Glancing at Erin, she smiled. “I’m guessing all you’ve been eating is fast food—that’s when you can get Kyle to actually stop long enough to pick up something.”
“Yeah, that’s about it,” Erin answered with a wry smile.
“When Daniel called and said you two were on your way over, I decided to pick up some stuffed sopaipillas at Cuatro Hombres.” Holly brought out paper plates and handed over three sopaipillas, then glanced at Erin. “Come on, girl. The guys are comfortable eating and working in here, but you and I can remain civilized and eat our meal in the kitchen on real dishes.”
“Do you all need me here?” Erin asked.
“No, go ahead,” Kyle answered. “My brothers and I need to brainstorm.”
“Okay then.” She looked at Holly and smiled. “Lead the way.”
“I think comfort food is a necessity when things are tough, don’t you? Warm, stuffed sopaipillas are the equivalent of a hug—and they taste better,” Holly said, grinning.
“So tell me, what kind of chile do they use on these?” Erin asked, and out of the corner of her eye, saw Kyle smile.
* * *
ONCE IN THE KITCHEN, Holly reached into the cabinet and brought out some terra-cotta-yellow and Prussian-blue stoneware plates. “These dishes are gorgeous! I love the pattern and the bold colors,” Erin said.
“Me, too.”
The sound of loud voices echoed through from the next room, and Holly smiled. “That’s how they crack tough cases. They bounce ideas off each other, argue and work things out.”
“You know what’s going on?” Erin asked.
Holly shook her head. “No, it’s better if I stay out of things like this. Daniel has a way of getting completely wrapped up in his work, so I force him to keep our personal life and his business separate.”
“I heard that he wanted to live here after your marriage, but you had other plans.”
“Yeah, and now he sees I was right. The baby will grow up fast and Daniel wouldn’t want milk and fruit juice all over the computers,” she said, grinning. “The baby’s at the sitter’s today, so I get some hours off to run errands and relax.”
Erin took a bite of the puffy stuffed sopaipilla and smiled. “Wow, this is great! Everything is so fresh and flavorful.”
“I know the men who run the restaurant, and there’s nothing those guys can’t fix, but this is hands-down the best,” Holly took a big bite and smiled happily. “Heaven. One of these days, I’m going to get their recipe.”
“Do you like to cook?”
“You bet. I never did much of it when I was single, but when I know Daniel’s going to be home, I like fixing traditional New Mexican meals. It’s fun.”
“You sound like a woman who loves her life,�
� Erin said wistfully.
“I do, but when I first met Daniel, things were a lot different. I was in some really bad trouble and scared to death.” She met Erin’s gaze. “It’s like that for you, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is.” Erin scooped a forkful of green chile and pinto beans into her mouth and grinned. “But this meal makes everything better.”
“You need to trust Kyle. He and his brothers are as different as night and day, but they have one thing in common. They’re solid as rocks, hard on their enemies, and completely loyal to a friend.”
“I want to, but it’s difficult because he doesn’t really trust me.”
“Well, I’m afraid that’s something else they all have in common. Their backgrounds make it hard for them to lower their guard,” she said. “But when it finally happens, you’ll see it was worth the wait.”
“I just wish...”
Holly smiled. “Kyle’s getting under your skin, isn’t he?”
Erin started to deny it, then stopped. “Maybe, but Kyle and I aren’t a good fit. I love the land and setting down roots. He thrives on action and danger. A farmer can’t give him that kind of rush.”
“You’d be surprised,” Holly said with a mysterious smile. “Hosteen Silver’s men have a way of making what seems impossible, possible. Don’t give up on him, not yet.”
* * *
“THEY’RE HERE FOR a reason,” Paul said. “They used Hank Leland, forcing him, somehow, to mail that box back to the U.S. What we have to find out is how many detonators they packed, and what he did with them before he was killed. These people came after him in broad daylight. Why risk exposing themselves like that unless what they have planned is really big?”
“That’s what I’m thinking, too,” Kyle responded, “I’ve got to find out where the rest of those detonators are, and get them before they do.”
“I’ve compiled a list of potential targets for you,” Paul said, and pointed to his computer screen.
Daniel and Kyle came to look over his shoulder. “The top three aren’t going to give them the kind of publicity they want,” Daniel quickly concluded.