Finely Ground

by Jennifer Templeman

  Ellie could swing her feet from the high perch in the executive chair. It made her feel like a small child, and she couldn’t help but move them. “It’s new, and I tried to convince my boss they’re unnecessary, but clearly I’ve lost that argument.”

  “A bulldog like Phil?” Mack asked. “You may as well resign yourself to the fact he ain’t changing his mind. It’s like asking a parking lot to be a freeway. They’re both places cars belong, but you just can’t go driving sixty-five in a parking lot. Wanting it to be different doesn’t mean a thing. Phil is old-school and will protect his agents at all cost. You may want him to loosen up, but he can’t do it—it’s not who he is. Accept that you’re being shadowed and move on to the next thing.”

  “Could you do it?” Ellie challenged.

  Mack seemed to stop and consider the question. When she took off her glasses, Ellie wondered if she’d managed to distract her enough that this session might be easy. “I think I’d see it as a challenge to find ways to sneak up on them just for the amusement factor. But at the end of the day, if the FBI is putting assets into keeping me safe, it’s only because there is a clear reason to do so. Even if I didn’t agree, I think I’d take it. We protect our own, so is it that you don’t want to be one of us, or is there another reason you’re so opposed to the idea?”

  Back in the hot seat so quickly, Ellie stopped swinging her legs to concentrate on answering.

  “Just blurt it out,” Mack interjected. “Whatever you were going to say, stop filtering or analyzing every word first to see if you think it sounds crazy. Just say it and let me be the judge.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Ellie admitted. “That I’ll say something honest, you’ll decide it’s completely nuts, and I’ll be out of a job.”

  “Would it bug you that much to be out of this job?” Mack argued.

  “Yes,” Ellie nearly yelled. “I love what I do.”

  “Why?”

  “I love digging for details and finding stuff everybody else overlooks as insignificant. I love to be removed enough from the action that I’m not overwhelmed by it but in the thick of cases enough to feel like I’m making a difference.”

  “Why not be a forensic accountant or a private investigator? Why the FBI?”

  “I’m not a business person, and PIs tend to deal more with personal squabbles. The Bureau is about bigger cases, larger-scale issues. It’s…”

  “Familiar?” Mack suggested. “All you’ve ever wanted to do?”

  “Yes.” Ellie had to admit it was true. “From the moment I realized what my dad did, I wanted to do it too. I wasn’t as good at it in the way he went about solving cases, but there’s still plenty I can do to help, and I think in a small way, I make the Bureau better as well.”

  “Hey.” Mack pulled her glasses from her nose to point them in Ellie’s direction. “That’s a perfectly valid reason. You don’t have to second-guess it. You got into this because you wanted to be like your dad. After you got in, you found your own niche and you like it. You don’t owe anyone an explanation beyond that.”

  “Thanks,” Ellie murmured weakly.

  “Why you got in isn’t as important as why you stay. And your reasons for staying are valid,” Mack reminded her. “Now tell me why you don’t want a security detail.”

  “It’s not necessary,” Ellie repeated.

  “Someone has threatened you?” Mack seemed to guess.

  “Indirectly—the case I was involved in when I went in the field has resurfaced because a relative of the killer communicated with me.”

  “I only saw one guy in the hallway,” Mack said. “Is one guy enough to keep you safe when you leave the building? Relatives of crazy serial killers don’t usually reach out to thank you for your service to the community. They’ve got a grudge, they’re emotionally unstable, and genetics alone proves they have a tendency for aggressive behavior. Not only is it necessary, but I’d be complaining that the detail isn’t large enough.”

  “But it calls out my life as being more important than someone else’s,” Ellie argued.

  “Ah, that’s what this is about,” Mack commented and quickly began to scribble on her tablet, squinting to see it.

  “What is it about?”

  Mack made a motion, as though trying to take off glasses from her face, even though they were on top of her head instead. Realizing her mistake when her fingers only touched skin, she took the spectacles from her hair and used them once again as a pointer. “You’ve had a couple of significant people die in the line of service. It’s hard for anybody to process that, but for some reason, you seemed to cope by making yourself as small and insignificant as possible—even down to your work specialty. So you are bucking a guard because you see it as someone trying to pull you up to equal status of that of any other agent being actively threatened. Your life isn’t more important, but it is equally so. The question is why do you think of yourself as less important?”

  Ellie’s mouth was dry. She hated thinking about her past. She hated it when the memory of losing her first partner as he bled to death in front of her came to the forefront of her mind. She wasn’t there when her father died, but she had dreamed about it on occasion. She knew that her life was technically equal to theirs, but there was a little voice asking if she thought that was true. How much more could her partner or father have done in the Bureau than what she had accomplished? If you looked at her body of work compared to their potential, there wasn’t a contest. While all life was important, their productivity would say their lives were more valuable. Even as she thought these things, she knew parts of them were false, but that nagging voice in her head insisted that parts of them were true as well.

  Mack’s hand on her knee made Ellie jump because she hadn’t even heard the small woman move over to her side of the desk. “I’m not trying to push you into conversations you aren’t ready to have, but at some point, you’re going to need to look at your past instead of trying to cover it up with other details. It’s a solid coping mechanism, but life is about more than coping. You aren’t crazy, so you’re going to have to trust me when I say I’m not looking for reasons to pull you from your job. What you contribute is vital, but there’s more you could do if you could just get out of your own way. So, take a few days to think about it, and if you’re interested in working on it—which will mean opening up and answering my questions without a filter—then set up a time on our calendars for us to meet again. If you don’t want to do it, then I won’t get in your way.”

  “Thank you,” Ellie responded, relieved to know her job was no longer in jeopardy.

  “Don’t thank me,” Mack quickly corrected. “I won’t need to block you, because your own fears and issues will get in your way to keep you from trying anything new. If anything, you should be angry because I’ll let this go without pushing for more from you. I can’t force it either way. Make up your mind, and when you do, I’ll be happy to help.”

  Chapter 5

  Ellie was irritated. If anything, she should be relieved. The psychiatrist had basically said she wasn’t going to get benched, so she could forget ever meeting the little woman again. But that voice that was beginning to get on her nerves was taunting her and basically calling her a coward. Ellie hated the idea of being labeled that way, but she also hated the idea of opening up her past for somebody else to judge and ridicule.

  Knowing she needed a distraction, she was disappointed with the number of new cases to look at. After lunch, she’d cleared out all her new activity and only had George’s file remaining to review.

  He’d sent along more pictures, and she had full access to the case file in the system as well. Smiling, she saw the amount of data already pulled together was significant, which meant she had found her distraction for the rest of the day.

  All four drivers were experienced. They had clean driving records and even decent credit histories. Two were based out of California, another was from Chicago, with the final one residing in Virginia. T
heir stories were identical in that they picked up their loads and cleared all the required weigh stations with the right payload. The video was from the final stop they made before delivering the cargo to the destination, and there was no required weigh station after that stop. It wasn’t until they were unloading the shipment that a loss was documented.

  The cargo itself wasn’t helpful either. One had watches, which could be valuable, but only a hundred units were removed, and they weren’t exactly Rolexes. Another truck was hauling baseballs and arrived with two hundred balls missing. The third container was filled with glass cookware, with thirty boxes taken, each box filled with a set of seven dishes. The final carrier was hauling coffee. Two hundred pounds of dark roast had been removed. Ellie felt that as a true crime above all others. What kind of person could steal coffee and not be racked with guilt to return it so that others who desperately needed their beverages could be supplied them when it was needed?

  Ellie knew the FBI had an entire cargo-theft team on the case because it could easily qualify as millions lost if an entire semi was taken. It happened like that every day, that the whole truck would be stolen to resell whatever goods were in the back. But this thief was taking less than a pallet of goods. Not enough to be noticeable when the back doors were opened. The drivers were each suspended during an investigation but had since been released back to drive again without further incident.

  When she blew up the pictures from the back of the trucks after they’d been emptied, she noticed a bottle that had been shoved between the side of the truck and a rail used to secure the load if necessary. Magnifying it showed it to be a small Coke bottle, just like the one from the video that blew through.

  That was too much to be coincidental, so after confirming that detail was there in all four trucks, she wrote up the report and asked George if they still had access to any of the trucks as evidence. It would be great to know if the bottle had any prints or DNA on it. It was a long shot, but at this point, they had nothing else to go off of.

  She also asked about the insurance carrier who underwrote the cargo. She wasn’t an expert on this but wondered if these loads were targeted for a specific reason that might be tied to who their companies would be reimbursed by for the theft.

  The missing cargo had been reported every Friday for the last four weeks, which meant another theft was due to occur tomorrow, if it was a consistent kind of criminal. Ellie suggested, if he hadn’t already done it, to be sure anybody calling the task force with cargo thefts on Friday preserved the entire trailer as a crime scene until they could get a tech there. That bottle was important, and until they figured out why, it was going to continue to bug her.

  Knowing there wasn’t much more she could do on this until he got back to her with a few details, she shut down her computer and headed out to do her part to ensure the coffee industry stayed in business, despite the loss it incurred when the truck was robbed.

  ****

  The Goth girl behind the counter at Mocha Joe’s looked up when Ellie walked in and then made a motion to the office door, not even bothering to ask if there was anything she could get for her.

  Before Ellie could knock, the office door swung open and a very irritated-looking Joe stood there, appearing surprised to see her. Ellie pointed over her shoulder to the counter before saying, “She indicated you were in your office. I hope I’m not intruding.”

  “You know better than that,” Joe replied, backing up and gesturing for Ellie to come in.

  “The look on your face when you opened the door told me otherwise, so I felt the need to clarify.”

  Joe rubbed his hand over his mouth and then over the top of his newly trimmed head. Apparently he had a nervous tick similar to his cousin. “I’ve been irritated all day, and I was coming out to tell Nicole to be sure to get me if you came in the shop.”

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t stop by to see you if I came in?” Ellie wondered, not used to seeing Joe act so unsure of himself and feeling slightly odd hearing the Goth girl referred to by such a feminine name.

  He shrugged. “Before last night, no, I wouldn’t have thought that. But after Garrett and I turned into kids on a playground, I wouldn’t have blamed you for avoiding us both.”

  “Why did you come by last night?”

  “I wanted to see you,” Joe answered quickly. “I wanted to stay because I’d like to continue seeing you, and I’m worried that you don’t seem nervous about having a psychotic stalker.”

  “I’m worried about it, but I don’t want to give up my life to hide while we wait for him to make contact again.”

  “I get that,” Joe seemed to agree. “But isn’t there something between hiding and flaunting your presence that might be agreeable?”

  “Trust me, I’m not flaunting, but I also think the bigger danger is to Janice than it is to me. She’s all the family I’ve got, and if he wants me to feel the pain he’s feeling, then it would make sense for Garrison to go after her.”

  The silence stretched for a few moments before Joe offered her a drink. He busied himself making it, and as he handed her the mug, he held on to it for a moment longer, causing her to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry if I acted like an ass. I’d like to tell you not to worry that it won’t happen again, but I want to be honest with you.” His eyes dropped to look at their hands, which were barely touching around the bottom of the coffee cup. “In a short time, you’ve come to mean a lot to me. The thought of something happening to you if I could have prevented it is a lot for a man like me to ignore, so I’ll try not to be an idiot when somebody else is looking out for you too, but I can’t promise to quit checking on you.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to,” Ellie promised, not pulling on the mug but looking at their connection as a source of strength to be open. “In fact, the idea of you checking on me more often isn’t a bad one.”

  “You like to make a man work for it, don’t you?” Joe asked.

  She looked at his face, relieved to see a smile there.

  “Anything worthwhile is supposed to be worth the effort, right?” she teased in return.

  “Yes, it is.” He moved to sit close beside her on the loveseat. “And I certainly don’t mind a little hard work.”

  Ellie briefly pictured Joe working hard, covered in sweat, and decided as nice as this banter was, a glass of cold water might be more appropriate than piping-hot coffee.

  The door to the office opened, and Joe let go of the mug, causing Ellie to have to take the full weight of it unexpectedly. In her haste to balance the cup, the liquid sloshed, and some of it ended up landing on her lap, causing her to jump up, more from shock than the heat of the drink.

  “Damn it, Garrett,” Joe exclaimed, as though Ellie’s clumsiness was somehow the fault of his cousin. “Don’t you knock?”

  “No,” Phillips answered plainly. “You’ve never said I have to knock to come see you.” Then he looked at Ellie and smiled with an expression nearly identical to the one Joe had given her as they teased each other. “Besides, Ellie’s car wasn’t in the parking lot, so how was I supposed to know she was here?”

  “My car is three spaces away from the door,” Ellie pointed out, trying to clean up her pants with the towel Joe handed her, thankful that it didn’t seem to show much against the dark blue. At least the required bland uniform for her office had one thing to recommend it.

  Phillips took a few steps backwards into the café and turned his head to look at the door before doing a quick sweep of the whole shop. “You and I are the only customers here. Nicole takes the bus, and the two cars parked outside are my truck at the front and Joe’s near the back.”

  Feeling nervous about where this was heading, Ellie gripped the towel tighter and slowly walked into the shop, knowing what Phillips said was true but needing to see it for herself.

  “Nicole,” Joe called out to the girl who seemed to be a fixture here. “Did you see anybody drive off in Ellie’s car?”

  The girl shook her
head hard enough that the chain running from her ear to her nose ring swayed back and forth. It seemed every time Ellie saw her, there was a new piece of metal on her face. In her defense, she held up a massive book, basically saying she wasn’t watching the parking lot because she was too busy reading.

  “I don’t pay you to read all the time,” Joe spoke in a low voice through partially gritted teeth.

  Ellie could see his temper about to erupt, and while she found it fascinating that he was so upset on her behalf, she also knew it wasn’t the fault of a girl with a skull and crossbones on her shirt. She gently placed her hand on Joe’s arm to get him focused on her. She spoke quietly, not wanting to interfere in his business but not wanting to see him blame Nicole for her car getting stolen. “It’s not her fault.”

  “Cops are on their way,” Phillips announced with his hand on the back of his neck.

  “What else?” Ellie asked, know he only acted like that when he was nervous or hiding something.

  “Phil’s coming too.”

  Before she could fly off the handle about him calling her boss, Joe’s hand rested on top of hers. The warmth of his hand diffused some of her anger, and she stopped before speaking to look at Joe.

  “It’s not his fault,” Joe said, mirroring her words back to her.

  “No,” Ellie agreed, “but it still feels like he called my dad to get me in trouble.”

  “I know I’m the one related to him, but sometimes I swear you two act more like siblings than neighbors.”

  “That’s right,” Phillips spoke up, slinging an arm over Ellie’s shoulder. “So get your grubby hands off my sister, because the feds are about to descend here, and she needs to be clearheaded to answer everybody’s questions.”

  “Great.” Joe squeezed her hand slightly before letting it go. “My shop’s about to be overrun with people, and not a one of them will be buying anything.”