by Katie Reus
“You think Max . . . Wait, what are you trying to say?”
Wesley knew he was only giving her bits of information, but he couldn’t afford to tell her too much. Not when he didn’t know enough about her. “I have certain evidence that indicates the four men accused of the bombing might be innocent and that whoever is behind the bombing is also behind Max’s death.”
“You think it’s someone in the DEA?” She frowned, her eyebrows pulling together as her husband walked back into the room. She took the bottle before asking her husband to give them privacy.
To Wesley’s surprise the man left the room again, maybe because of the serious look Paula had given him. Because of the nature of his wife’s job he had a midlevel security clearance, so he’d be able to hear certain things and he’d also understand when he needed to make himself scarce.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But a lot of things aren’t adding up and I don’t know who to trust over there. It’s the real reason I came to you. You’ve got an insider’s perspective and according to my analysts, you’re unlikely to be corrupt.”
Her eyebrows rose a fraction, but she didn’t seem surprised by his analysis. She had a good job, and her husband did very well financially according to Wesley’s reports. Money wouldn’t be a motivator for her, and religious reasons were also out given the information he had on her.
“What do you want to know, then?”
“Gut instinct—who do you think benefits the most from Max’s death?”
“I . . .” She shook her head and shifted against the recliner, wincing slightly.
He really hated that he’d come here on her maternity leave, but he had to push. “Someone came to your mind.”
“Yeah, okay, but you’re talking murder. And I’m not saying I don’t think the people I work with are capable of killing someone. But killing in self-defense and flat-out murdering or hiring someone to kill one of the deputy directors is crossing a serious line.” She gave a sharp shake of her head, but he could see in her eyes that she suspected someone. Or maybe not suspected, but believed them capable enough.
Wesley nodded, letting her get her thoughts together.
Suddenly she straightened. “Is this on the record?”
He shook his head. “This whole meeting is off the record.”
She relaxed a fraction. “Fine, off the record, Raul Widom has a lot to gain with Max gone. Agent, good at getting the job done, but he’s such a showboat, loves being the center of attention, getting his face in the news for a win whether he deserves it or not. And . . .” She grimaced, clear disgust on her face. “He’s a sexist of the worst kind. Subtle, tries to hide it, but if I had to work with him, I’d quit. That says a lot because I love my job. Guy doesn’t like women, the kind who thinks no matter her rank, the female should be the one getting the men in a meeting coffee. Probably why he’s been divorced three times.”
Very interesting. Widom, a man moving up the ranks quickly, was on Pankov’s list. “Anyone else come to mind?”
“Yes, maybe. I don’t think he’d have the stones to kill Max and I don’t know that he’d gain anything from it, but Daniel Vane and Max didn’t get along. Personal shit. It’s not like he’ll be able to take Max’s position or anything, though. Guy’s just midlevel and that’s probably all he’ll ever be.” She lifted her shoulders casually. “Still, he comes to mind as having a hard-on for Max.”
“Does either of them have access to your security code?”
“I don’t think so. Widom is technically ranked higher than me, but we’re in different divisions and he doesn’t have enough clearance—that I’m aware of—to have access to my information. But I wouldn’t swear to it.”
“Thank you.” He pulled out a business card that simply had his name and his private number and handed it to her as he stood. “You ever need anything or remember something, call me. This conversation will remain confidential, so if someone hassles you about anything, call me.”
Clear surprise flitted across her face. “Thanks. And thanks for the heads-up about my security breach. I’m going to change my code now. Unless you think I shouldn’t?”
“Change it.”
“I will. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m not going to get up and walk you out.” She winced again, her discomfort clear.
“No problem. I appreciate your time.” Wesley made his way to the front door and found her husband waiting there.
The man nodded politely at him as he opened the door, his manner somewhat less hostile than before.
Once Wesley was back in the SUV, he texted Elliott and Selene, letting them know to focus on both Widom and Vane.
Karen’s fingers clacked over her keyboard as she pulled up another of Raul Widom’s bank accounts.
“You can grab some rest in Wesley’s office,” Selene said quietly from the computer station next to her. She was also working, but she had a headset on and was communicating with others while she clicked away.
Half smiling, Karen didn’t glance over, afraid the worry in her eyes would show. Once they’d arrived, Tucker was escorted away and she wasn’t allowed to see him. She knew where he was, though—in one of the typical holding rooms. She wished she could be with him. “I’m too wired to sleep, but thanks.”
With a critical eye, she started going over Widom’s incoming and outgoing money. There were so many angles to look at right now, trying to figure out who had the means and the motive to set up four DEA agents, kill the deputy director, and plant bombs at the Botanic Garden. It felt like looking for a needle in a stack of needles. But they’d solved more cases with less. “Did Wesley get more intel on this guy?” she continued, wanting to know why they were giving him a bigger focus now. Karen knew her boss had called Selene not long ago and was surprised he hadn’t called to check on her. Maybe he was still pissed about how she’d run with Tucker.
“Yeah. Him and the Vane guy,” Selene said.
“When will he be here?”
“Who? Oh, Wesley? Not long now.” Selene started talking to someone else on her comm then, and Karen gave all her focus to her own task.
Normally she’d be multitasking, taking on a lot more responsibility than looking at one man’s files, but it seemed pretty clear to her that Selene didn’t want her doing too much. It was also clear that Selene was keeping an eye on her. Maybe they were worried she wasn’t handling things well. But she couldn’t be sure.
About fifteen minutes later Wesley showed up, looking a little tired, but put together in a dark business suit. His expression was unreadable as he approached her and Selene’s computer center. Karen started to stand and greet him when she saw him, but he nodded at the two of them, his expression neutral. Surprised, she tried to bury the hurt that he didn’t seem happier to see her.
“You two, my office.” His tone was brisk.
Selene gave her one of those unreadable looks too as she fell in behind Karen.
Dread filled her stomach. Had something happened to Tucker? Had they found evidence against him? Or maybe she was in trouble for what she’d done. She thought Wesley would understand, but he seemed almost cold right now.
Once they were inside the office, Selene shut the door with an ominous-sounding click, then pressed a button on the big window facing the open computer center, frosting the glass over.
Tension twisted through her even harder until she turned and Wesley pulled her into a brief but warm hug. “We were worried about you,” he murmured, stepping back, more warmth in his green eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
She let out a shaky laugh, thankful he seemed more like himself now. “I’m glad too.”
He motioned to the seats in front of his desk. She and Selene sat, but instead of moving around to the other side, he perched on the front of it. It wasn’t a power play type of thing either. She knew him well enough to spot that he was on edge and was likely to start pacing.
Wesley crossed his arms over his chest, all the lines in his body tense. “Ortiz tells me
that Pankov seemed pretty protective of you.”
The statement took her off guard, but she nodded and cursed her fair coloring as she felt her cheeks heat up. “He was. He . . . I think he felt bad about everything.” She didn’t want to come out and say he’d kidnapped her even though her boss clearly already knew. She felt a sort of loyalty to Tucker now.
Taking her completely by surprise, Wesley pushed off his desk and crouched in front of her. He looked almost nervous, but that couldn’t be right. The man never got flustered. She’d seen him get into a heated conversation with the president multiple times and not break a sweat. Clearing his throat, he glanced at Selene.
“Freeman cleaned your friend’s place thoroughly, including laundry. Everything,” Selene said meaningfully.
Karen nodded. “Yeah, I know.” It was standard for something like that. No one could know they’d been there. So why were Selene and Wesley—“Oh my God,” she muttered, understanding what their deal was. “He, uh, found the condom?” It was an educated guess.
Selene nodded and Wesley just cleared his throat again. Unable to stop her cheeks from turning stoplight red, she covered her face with her hands and groaned. Dropping them, she looked between both of them. “It was probably poor judgment.” Not that she regretted it. Of course she wasn’t going to admit that, however.
“Were you forced or coerced?” Wesley asked, his voice a deadly razor’s edge. He still hadn’t moved from his spot but was watching her intently.
Her eyebrows rose. “No, not at all.”
“Sometimes in hostage situations captives feel—”
“Wesley! Okay, did Tucker and his guys take me yesterday morning?” At Wesley’s dark expression, she decided not to answer her own question. “You know what, that’s not important. I was never forced or coerced. If anything . . . I sort of made the move on him.”
At Selene’s snort, she glanced at the other woman. “What?”
Selene’s lips twitched, as if she was fighting a smile. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. You’re very . . . picky.”
Selene and Karen had shared drinks more than once and talked about Karen’s dating hiatus. “I wouldn’t throw stones if I were you.” Not considering that Selene had not only hooked up with the man on her last field assignment, but married him.
Selene simply grinned and looked at Wesley, clearly waiting for him to continue.
Her boss still appeared unsure, but he stood and leaned on the desk again. Some of the tension had thankfully left his body. “I hope that this thing with him hasn’t impaired your judgment.” Though it came out as a statement, she knew he was asking.
Karen shook her head. “If I thought it did, I’d tell you. You know me; I can do the job. And I’d planned to tell you about what happened between us. I just wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. He tried to let me go more than once. If his plan was to use me for some reason, whether as a bargaining chip or to get information from you, he could have done it. The evidence we’re uncovering speaks for itself, something you know or you’d have handed him over to the feds by now. He’s a good man, Wesley. I’d stake my job and reputation on it.”
Surprise flared in her boss’s eyes for a moment before he pushed up from his desk. “Selene’s got a lot to fill you in on, but . . . Do you need to sleep or—”
“I’m fine, promise. You’ve known me to work for days without a break.”
He gave a curt nod, her answer good enough for him. “I just spoke with Paula Jacobs of the DEA. She had some interesting things to say. Let Selene catch you up. You can work till two or so this afternoon, and then you can talk to the agency shrink—”
She snorted.
He gave her a dry look. “Either talk to her and then head home, or just head home. Your choice. You’ll have an escort and someone will be staying with you until you return to work.” Before she could even think about protesting, he continued. “That’s not up for debate.” There was a buzz on his intercom and he picked up without pause, motioning for them to leave.
Once they were outside his office door, the buzz of activity increased, even this early in the morning. This definitely wasn’t a nine-to-five type of job. Karen crossed her arms over her chest as she looked up at Selene, who was taller. “What’s going to happen to Tucker? And who’s the man who tried to kill us?”
Sighing, Selene nodded toward their computer station. “So far we’ve figured that this guy was in the same Army unit as the four men who allegedly went after Pankov and his guys. And the one who came after you two in broad freaking daylight.”
“Allegedly?”
Selene lifted her shoulders. “I’m leaning toward believing Pankov. Can’t believe you freaking slept with him,” she whispered, looking around to make sure no one overheard.
Karen blushed, unable to stop her reaction. “Can we talk about that later?”
“Oh, we’re definitely going to.” Selene gave a mischievous grin before her expression went into pure work mode. “So far the wannabe hit man hasn’t said two words, not even to ask for a lawyer, but I want you to rip apart his life.”
Karen’s heart rate kicked up a notch. “Yeah?”
“Yep. Do your magic. We’ve got Red Bull and coffee in the kitchen if you need a jolt.”
Hell yeah, Karen thought. The guy who’d broken into her friend’s house might have been just a hired hitter and “doing his job,” but to her it was very personal. She was going to find out who’d hired him and from there, they were going to destroy who’d set up Tucker and his men.
She couldn’t deny that it was personal for her now too. She couldn’t bury her feelings for Tucker, would be stupid to even try. She wanted his name cleared. Right now she just hoped he was doing okay.
Chapter 15
OSINT: open-source intelligence. Refers to a comprehensive range of information available publicly (Internet, media, public data, etc.).
Tucker flicked a glance up at one of the security cameras in the matchbook-size, all-white room. The NSA agents hadn’t restrained him when bringing him to what they’d called a waiting room. With an armed guard inside, two outside and two security cameras—which seemed like overkill—he wasn’t going anywhere. Even if he did overpower his guards, which was a possibility given his training, he wouldn’t escape this building. Too many of the doors and elevators had biometric scanners for entry or exit.
He might be good, but he wasn’t that good.
They’d gone through so many layers of various security before arriving on one of the top floors. No one would tell him anything, other than he was just going to have to wait. But clearly Burkhart didn’t think he was going to go on a rampage or he’d have been locked down tighter.
He tried to think of anything but Karen. But that was impossible. The guys who’d picked them up had seemed concerned about her, but he still worried she might be in trouble for helping him. He also hadn’t liked how friendly Ortiz had seemed with Karen. Stupid, but there it was. She made him feel possessive and protective and that wasn’t changing any time soon.
Tucker straightened when the armed guard standing next to the door tilted his head to the side. It was slight, but he knew the guy had an earpiece in and was listening to someone, probably wasn’t even aware of the small movement he’d made. The man’s back suddenly went ramrod straight, his posture perfect.
Yep, Burkhart was on his way.
Less than two minutes later Wesley Burkhart strode into the room wearing a suit and looking every bit as powerful as Tucker had seen in pictures. With dark hair graying a bit at the temples, he had sharp green eyes and was clearly fit under his black suit. He moved like a true military man as he dismissed the guard. Considering his job, his former military service was public knowledge, so Tucker would have known the guy had been in the Navy even if he hadn’t known of his connection to Max. Both Max and Burkhart had been in together, been friends for over three decades.
His guard didn’t even pause, just left the room, shutting the door behind hi
m as Burkhart sat across from him. He had a thin manila file that he set on the table as he watched Tucker.
“Where are your teammates?” he asked, his gaze never wavering.
Tucker had expected the question, just not so soon. “That’s not important now.”
“You and your men kidnapped one of my best analysts, so I’d say it’s very important.”
He didn’t respond, not wanting to flat-out admit he’d taken Karen. He would later if necessary. He’d committed a crime and would cop to it, but they had more important things to worry about.
Burkhart continued watching him with that laserlike focus. The guy was intimidating, but Tucker had been through too many training schools to count, including SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) school, to let it affect him. After Tucker’s having been in war zones and undercover in some of the shittiest places on the planet, Burkhart would need to torture him if he wanted more out of him.
There was a sudden gleam in Burkhart’s eyes, as if he’d read Tucker’s damn mind. Tucker frowned, wondering what the man was thinking.
“Cameras off,” Burkhart said suddenly. Then he nodded, as if talking to someone. “Stop recording audio. . . . Affirmative.”
Tucker figured it was a bullshit way to make him feel as if it were just the two of them, that no one was listening or watching. He didn’t buy it.
“You know what I find interesting? Karen had the opportunity to leave you. First at the coffee shop, then after you two were attacked. She didn’t either time. And I know that you two were recently intimate.”
Tucker felt his blood chill at the man’s neutral tone, not liking where this conversation was going.
“Either you forced her, which I doubt, or she’s been working with you long before yesterday. It makes me think she wasn’t kidnapped at all. I have no video of her being taken or—”