Her roiling stomach added a knot to the mix of acidic juices. Problem after problem marched through her mind until exhaustion dragged her under and blessed oblivion engulfed her.
Suddenly, Kat jerked awake. She glanced at the alarm clock: two a.m. Frowning, she rolled onto her back. As a new mother, she had become a light sleeper, her antenna always alert to catch the slightest sound from Skye or the baby monitor on the nightstand. But since Skye wasn’t home, what had woken Kat? A car? A dog? She sat up and listened.
A scraping sound seemed to be coming from the front of the house. The strange noise continued for several minutes. What in the world? She switched on the lamp, jumped out of bed, and immediately realized her mistake when a wave of dizziness washed over her. She latched on to the nightstand for a minute until her head cleared. Her cell phone lay next to her hand, and an odd uneasiness convinced her to carry it with her. She started to flip on the hallway light but decided the glow from the phone was sufficient.
The scratching grew louder as she neared the end of the hall. Stopping at the entrance to the living room, she listened again.
The noise came from right outside the front door. As she watched in disbelief, the doorknob turned. Screaming, she raced across the room. She threw herself against the door before she realized the deadbolt was still engaged. The impact jarred the phone from her hand, and it landed on the floor out of reach a few feet away.
Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears that she barely heard a male voice holler something she didn’t understand. His words didn’t even sound like English. She held her breath, trying to discern what the man was saying and doing.
After what seemed an eternity, but was only a few seconds, the sound of running footsteps seeped under the door. She pressed her eye against the peephole just in time to see a figure, dressed all in black, jump into a large dark sedan at the curb. The vehicle sped off before the car door closed.
A cry of relief burst from her throat as she turned and collapsed against the door. Her legs gave out, and she slid to the floor. A feeling of being violated sent a shudder through her.
Still shaking, she crawled to her phone. After three unsuccessful tries, she finally managed to stab the right numbers.
“Nine one one. What’s your emergency?”
“S-Someone t-tried to br-break into my house.”
“Is the intruder still there?”
“N-No, a c-car drove him away.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, just scared. Can you send someone?”
The operator verified the address and offered to stay on the phone with Kat until the officer arrived. She continued talking in a soft, reassuring voice, but Kat was no longer listening.
Someone had tried to break into her house. With her at home. The act felt far more sinister than a random burglary.
Who would possibly think she owned anything worth stealing? She rented a tiny forty-year-old house. Her television was old, her furniture even older. She didn’t have any expensive jewelry. The engagement ring from Dillon had been the costliest piece she’d ever worn, but she’d left her parents with the unenviable task of returning it to him. Her laptop computer was just two years old, but it’d cost less than a thousand dollars. Her mental inventory confirmed her original theory: She owned nothing worth the risk of a home-invasion burglary.
The analysis left her with a traumatic conclusion: Theft wasn’t the intruder’s goal.
* * *
“What do you mean it didn’t work?” he snapped.
“She caught him breaking in. He didn’t know if she’d already called the police before she reached the door. Their arrival could’ve been imminent. He didn’t have time to break down the door and…deal with her, so he left.”
“Incompetent,” he muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.”
“Remember, we don’t owe you an explanation. This is simply a courtesy call.”
He buried his anger. “Are you going to try again?”
“Of course.”
“Using someone new?”
“No. Our man is an expert. He did an excellent job of eliminating the Stevens threat. Ms. MacKenzie has simply had a run of good luck, which will run out soon.”
* * *
“Special Agent O’Malley, this is CHP Officer Wilson. We spoke yesterday about the car accident involving Ms. MacKenzie.”
“Good morning, Officer Wilson. Do you have an update?” Dillon sat at his desk Wednesday morning, drinking his third cup of java. After unsuccessfully attacking the Diablo Beach computer system until two a.m., he needed an extra jolt of caffeine. Of course, the caffeine didn’t help his already on-edge nerves. Trying to hack into a nuclear power plant’s computer system could have that effect on a person.
“Unfortunately, I’ve got more than that.”
His muscles tensed. He set his mug down carefully. “What’s up?”
“First, our examination of the tires of the victim’s Civic confirms they were shot out. That conclusion is supported by the slug I found buried in the embankment near the crash site. Couldn’t find the second one there or lodged in the car.”
“Damn.”
“It gets worse.”
Instinctively, dread tightened his chest. “Worse than someone shooting at her car?”
“Yeah. I got a call from the Oceanside PD that a guy tried to break into Ms. MacKenzie’s house last night while she was asleep.”
The bottom fell out of his stomach. “Holy shit! Is she all right?”
“Yeah. Not physically hurt, but plenty shook up. The MacKenzie woman’s smart though. She told the responding officer about her car accident. That’s why he contacted me. She must be thinking there’s a connection even though she doesn’t even know yet what happened to her tires. I’m gonna call her but thought I’d touch base with you first.”
Feral protectiveness filled him, a feeling he remembered well from when Kat was his. She wasn’t his woman now, wasn’t going to be his wife, but apparently that didn’t mean he couldn’t still feel the primal need to protect her. Especially when he’d admitted to himself last night that he was still in love with her. Well, shit. How would she react to him inserting himself into her life even if it was for a positive reason like protection?
“Thanks for calling me first, Officer Wilson.”
“No problem. You know yet whether the car incident is related to your investigation? If so, we may have three connected cases.”
“And when considered together, it looks a lot more serious than any single incident.”
“Right.”
“Wish I could say we’ve connected the dots, but we haven’t. I’d appreciate being kept in the loop though.”
Wilson hesitated. “Assuming you’ll do the same.”
“Definitely.” Lying was a frequent necessity in his line of work.
“Fine. I’ll send you a copy of both reports after I get the one from OPD.”
“Appreciate it. Good-bye—”
“One more thing…,” the officer said and then hesitated.
“Yeah?”
“Um, I don’t know if there’s any connection whatsoever, but I recalled another accident not long ago in that same area, southbound on I-5 though. I looked it up to be sure I was remembering correctly. A Ford Escort slammed into a concrete overpass pillar. Killed the driver.”
“Fatal auto accidents are pretty common on our freeways,” Dillon said noncommittally, hoping to avoid a long conversation.
“True, but in addition to being in the same general vicinity, the guy—Stevens—was on his way to work the night shift at the power plant.”
Not good. Not good at all.
As soon as Dillon got off the phone, he rounded up Conrad, and they marched into Rex’s office together. Once they all sat at the table, Dillon updated them on Wilson’s call about the attempted break-in, the new info on the tires, and the other I-5 accident.
“I believe both attacks on Ms. MacKen
zie are related to her concerns about the irregularities at Diablo Beach. The Stevens accident could also have a connection to the plant since he worked there. Unfortunately, Wilson didn’t mention the guy’s position.”
“Ask Ms. MacKenzie if she knew him.” Rex directed the order to Conrad.
“Understood.”
“Any word from ASAIC Carter about Diablo Beach from the counterterrorism angle, Boss?” Dillon asked.
Rex motioned for Conrad to close the door and then spoke. “I just talked to Alan a few minutes ago. You’re not going to like the news.”
Chapter 11
With a teaser like that, how could Dillon feel anything but apprehension? His hands curled into fists in his lap as he braced for the worst.
“Carter took your tip about Diablo Beach to the San Diego Joint Terrorism Task Force. Understandably, they want some real evidence before deciding it’s actionable intel. When he talked to Homeland Security, they have no terrorist chatter or other indications of any kind of attack or sabotage of a nuclear power plant.”
“That’s reassuring,” Conrad chimed in sarcastically. “Anyone bother to consider that the bastards may have learned not to broadcast their plans?”
Rex ignored him. “After Homeland, Carter went to the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. They have no reports of any problems at Diablo Beach. In fact, they’re really pleased with how the shutdown and decommissioning are progressing.”
“But that’s part of the problem. Kat…uh…Ms. MacKenzie said her boss doesn’t believe her, so her concerns have never gone beyond him,” Dillon said. “If he’s involved, he could be stonewalling.”
“An awful big leap with no evidence,” Rex cautioned. He stroked his chin. “Carter was thorough; he didn’t stop with the NRC.”
Dillon straightened in his chair. Tension pulled his muscles as tight as violin strings. He waited for the second shoe to drop.
“He contacted Southern California Edison, the owner of DBNPP. They reviewed their files and found no reports of any irregularities.” Rex cleared his throat. “They also pulled up Ms. MacKenzie’s personnel files. Apparently, she’s had trouble performing her duties. Her boss has given her multiple negative performance reviews as well as actual reprimands.”
Rex looked disappointed—in him. Dillon’s jaw clenched. Had Kat intentionally withheld information about problems with her job? “Reprimands?”
“Yes. A couple for falling asleep on the job and another for failing to follow proper safety and operating procedures. The SCE person was surprised Ms. MacKenzie hadn’t already been fired. We may be dealing with a disgruntled employee trying to cause trouble for her employer.”
Dillon shook his head vigorously. “I don’t believe it. Kat was always a reliable, responsible, and professional employee at Avila Canyon. Maybe her boss at DBNPP is planning to…to…” He pounded his fist on the table. “I don’t know. Maybe use his reports as leverage for…for sex.”
Rex arched his eyebrows. “Has she filed a sexual harassment complaint against him?”
“Um, not that I’m aware of.” Fact was, she hadn’t mentioned anything about sexual harassment. Or job harassment. He clamped his lips together. He couldn’t let his protective instinct stoke his imagination.
She had failed to tell him the whole story, and now he’d been blindsided by his boss with this negative news. It sure didn’t help support Kat’s accusations that something was seriously wrong at Diablo Beach.
“Moving on…with actual facts. As I said, Carter was thorough. He also contacted Avila Canyon, operated by Pacific Gas and Electric. And yes, they confirmed Ms. MacKenzie had an excellent record while working for them.” He stroked his chin again and leveled a piercing gaze at Dillon. “But, about two years ago, she told everyone she was getting married in San Francisco and scheduled two weeks of vacation. Five days into that absence, she called her boss and said she wouldn’t be returning…ever. Never gave adequate notice. Never provided any explanation. Never came back to help train her replacement. Just poof…disappeared.”
Dillon gulped. His neck burned—with anger or embarrassment, he wasn’t sure.
“Anyway, while she was there, she was great. But her departure was far from professional. In fact, the Avila contact implied the wedding story was all a lie, and Ms. MacKenzie never got married.”
Conrad shot Dillon a sympathetic glance and then turned to focus his full attention on the fascinating view of the cloudless sky during the awkward silence that followed.
Rex waited patiently, his stare pinning Dillon to the chair.
He drew a deep breath. “The wedding wasn’t a lie. At least not the part about it being the reason for the two-week vacation.” He couldn’t meet his boss’s eyes any longer. He joined Conrad in looking out the window. “But the wedding didn’t happen…as planned.”
“I see.”
No way could two monosyllabic words suggest comprehension of the most traumatic experience of Dillon’s life, but he let it slide. Damn Kat for doing this to him. “What’s the bottom line?” he forced himself to ask.
“No investigation. After all his inquires, Carter didn’t find enough credible intel to warrant an official FBI investigation.”
Dillon swung back to Rex. “If he knew someone had shot out her tires and tried to break into her house—”
“The answer is no, Special Agent O’Malley. Until you have evidence linking those events to—”
He shot out of the chair, slapped his palms on the table, and leaned forward. “So we’re just gonna sit back and chance a nuclear meltdown triggered by someone who’s been rooting around in the Diablo Beach computer system?”
His boss’s eyes narrowed. “What haven’t you told me?”
Shit. Me and my big, fucking mouth. “Nothing. Are we done here?”
Rex’s steely gaze never wavered. “Conrad, dismissed. Dillon, sit down.”
He didn’t move, save the rise and fall of his chest with each strained breath. The silence stretched another thirty seconds after Conrad’s departure. Dillon felt the same rage that used to bubble up from deep inside him when he was getting sent to a new foster home. Finally, resignedly, he dropped back into his chair.
Rex stroked his chin as he continued to scrutinize him. “This kind of situation can ruin a career, O’Malley. You’re not being objective. You’re mixing personal with professional, but I figure you have good reason.” He pointed his index finger at Dillon’s head. “Listen up and listen good. There is no official investigation. But if you need a few personal-time days to…let’s say, get that straight in your mind, you let me know.” He dropped his hand to the table. “Now, we’re done.”
Rex’s words played over and over as Dillon marched down the hall. Was his boss suggesting what Dillon thought he was? That he’d approve time off to do an unofficial investigation? He needed a chance to think and cool down so he headed for the elevator.
“O’Malley,” Conrad called.
He wanted some time alone, not a pep talk from a concerned friend, but he trudged to Conrad’s desk anyway.
“Hey, man, you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“I know you’re disappointed.” Conrad lowered his voice. “Look, if there’s anything I can do—” His desk phone interrupted him. “Hang on.” He grabbed the phone and then shot Dillon a meaningful look before positioning the phone between them so they could both hear. “Good morning, Ms. MacKenzie. What can I do for you?”
* * *
Kat took a deep breath. Protecting Skye was her highest priority. If it meant making hard choices, so be it. If it meant following a different path with her life, she’d do it in a nanosecond. If it meant leaving her soul mate behind again, she could handle it. She had already reached the decision that they needed to move. Last night’s scare only changed the timing from soon to immediately.
“Actually, I’m calling to update you, Special Agent Regis,” she said and drew another fortifying breath. “A man tried to break into my house last
night. I think it could be related to my car accident and my concerns about Diablo Beach.”
“The CHP officer called Di…um…us with the news earlier. Are you all right?”
“Yes. Thankfully, I heard the intruder before he got the door open.” She gulped. “Officer Wilson also called me this morning. I’m sure he told you what happened to my tires.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Is the FBI investigation going to consider all of this together?” She waited for a response and frowned when none was forthcoming. “Hello?”
“Sorry. I’m here.”
She heard someone talking softly nearby. Was it Dillon? She ignored the flutter in her stomach.
“I’m afraid we’re going to need some hard evidence before we can move forward with an investigation,” Agent Regis said.
Kat blinked. “Two assaults on me aren’t enough evidence?”
“I understand your point, Ms. MacKenzie. But at this time, we have nothing connecting those two incidents, much less tying them to your unsubstantiated concerns about Diablo Beach.”
Unsubstantiated? Sad, but true. And the word carried the finality of a judge’s gavel.
What had she expected? She had no documentation of the fluctuations and no idea what or who was causing them. Had she overreacted? Should she have listened to Farook? Was calling Dillon a colossal mistake?
The weight of everything crashed down on her: Diablo Beach, Dillon, the car accident, the intruder, moving. Her headache came roaring back, and her stomach churned.
Kat remembered another time when her world had imploded. That morning—on what was supposed to be her wedding day, the happiest day of her life—she’d been standing in her bathroom, her gaze glued to a small plastic stick. When the positive result appeared, her world as she knew it ended. She had felt as terribly alone then as she did now. The miracle of the life growing inside her was all that had held her together. And Skye would be the reason she survived this crisis as well.
“Ms. MacKenzie?”
Wanted (FBI Heat Book 3) Page 7