Cold Dawn

by Susan Sleeman

  Eryn laughed and logged in to her computer. She opened a program Griff had never seen before.

  “Bring up his texts,” Sam directed.

  “Hey,” Hannah called out. “It looks like someone embezzled from this account. Andy managed this account, and he looks guilty, but from the notes, it appears as if he was trying to prove someone else did it. Someone named Oscar.”

  Sam got a gleam in her eye. “That’s exactly what we were thinking.”

  “Here you go,” Eryn said as texts appeared on the screen.

  “Look at that.” Griff pointed at the last text Andy received. “It’s from Oscar Medina of all people.”

  Griff read the message.

  I know what you did. Meet me tonight at 8 at Ziggy’s Pub or everyone will know you’re a thief.

  17

  Griff reread Andy’s response saying he would meet Oscar, and shock rumbled through Griff’s body like an earthquake. “This at least explains why his car was near Ziggy’s place.”

  “Oh, Andy,” Sam said shaking her head. “You knew he was the one stealing money. Why did you agree to meet him?”

  “They were friends,” Griff replied. “He obviously trusted Oscar even with such a threat. Or maybe he wanted to call him out on the information we found tonight.”

  “We have to get back to Portland now and confront Oscar!” Sam spun and headed for the door.

  Griff stepped in front of her. “Hold up. We need to think this through.”

  “Exactly,” Eryn said. “And you need Gage’s approval to use the helo and you’ll need a pilot.”

  “Then we need to get Gage over here, now!” Sam dug out her phone.

  “No point in calling him,” Hannah said. “He’s watching the kids. I’ll have to head home to free him up.”

  “Then hurry,” Sam said. “We finally have a solid lead and need to get moving on this.”

  Hannah stood and tapped file folders on the table. “Your forensic accountant should start with these folders. It will give them a good picture of what’s going on.”

  “Thanks, Hannah,” Sam said. “And I’m sorry I’m pushing you out of here like this.”

  “No worries. I’ll do the same thing to Gage.” Her laughter trailed her to the door where she looked back. “And Sam. I don’t want you going out again tonight, so I’m going to send someone to pick up the dog hair.”

  “But I—”

  “Can do it, I know.” She smiled fondly at Sam. “But someone just tried to kill you. Let’s not give them another chance tonight.”

  “I wholeheartedly embrace that sentiment,” Griff said, giving Sam a pointed look.

  “Okay, fine,” she said. “It’s not like picking up the sample will do anything to help. It’s the processing that could generate a lead.”

  “I’ll get the bag to you first thing in the morning,” Hannah said.

  “But I—”

  “Was going to process them tonight,” Hannah interrupted. “I know, but this isn’t a big lead and you need to sleep. Morning will be soon enough.”

  She departed without waiting for Sam to agree.

  “She really is in charge.” Griff laughed.

  “She’s only doing what she thinks is best for me, but sometimes I wish she didn’t care so much.” Sam pointed at the screen. “Let’s keep looking at the texts.”

  “I’ll print them out for each of you so you don’t have to keep breathing down my neck.” Eryn chuckled.

  Sam rushed to the printer before Eryn even transferred the files. He’d never seen Sam act so impulsive. Something was going on far deeper than finding Andy’s killer. It was like she had some other agenda, too, but Griff didn’t have a clue what it might be.

  The printer started whirring, and she grabbed the pages. She handed a set to Griff and dropped into the nearest chair without even looking at him.

  He sat next to her and started reading the texts that were listed in reverse order. Most were to Andy’s parents and Griff. A few to Nick. But on the third page, Griff’s attention piqued.

  He tapped one of the texts. “Look at the date. He was arranging to meet this person in Portland. That must be when his car and shoes got dirty.”

  Sam looked at him wide-eyed. “I wonder who this is.”

  “Hold on. I can do a reverse phone lookup.” Eryn’s fingers were already flying over her keyboard. “Belongs to a Tina Lowe.”

  “Tina?” Sam shared a look with Griff. “Brad and Oscar said no one named Tina worked at Flint Accounting, but maybe they lied.”

  Griff thought about the news. “If she does—or did—work with Andy, maybe she gave him the files. Or maybe she was helping him figure something out about them.”

  Sam’s eyes widened. “What if Brad Flint is involved in the theft with Oscar?”

  “That makes some sense,” Eryn chimed in. “Otherwise, I can’t see how Oscar or even Andy would manage to embezzle any amount of money when Flint had oversight.”

  “We need to get that forensic accountant on these records ASAP.”

  “I’ve got a guy I can call first thing in the morning,” Gage said as he stepped into the room.

  “Don’t wait,” Sam urged. “Call now.”

  “Not all people work twenty-four seven like we often do.” Gage rested on the corner of the table. “So, Hannah said you think Andy wasn’t involved in embezzlement after all.”

  “Exactly.” Sam explained what they found so far. “We need to get to Portland ASAP to interview Brad and Oscar again and see if a Tina Lowe works there. If not…” She bit her lip.

  Gage’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you really want to confront these guys without any proof? I can’t see either of them confessing to murder, and you’ll run the risk of alerting them that you’re on to them.”

  “What do you suggest?” Griff asked.

  “Let the forensic accountant review the files while you do a background check on this Tina person and locate her.”

  “What’s the point of the background check?” Sam asked. “I’m sure Eryn can find her, and we can interview her right away.”

  “You’re assuming because she may have dated Andy that she’s on his side, but is there anything in Andy’s texts to suggest that?” Gage asked.

  Sam sighed, looking dejected. “No, not in the limited messages on his phone, but we might find something when we get the cell records from his provider.”

  “She could even be working with Flint and Oscar,” Griff said, though he hoped not.

  “Seems like you’re letting your emotions get to you, Sam.” Gage stood. “Which I totally understand. Andy was your friend. You want his killer caught. But think about what I said, okay? I’ll support whatever you decide to do, and if you need to use the helo, it’s yours.”

  Sam took a long breath and let it out slowly before giving a firm nod. “You’re right. I need to take a step back. Evaluate this from an objective point of view.”

  “And while you wait, there are leads to pursue,” Eryn said. “You mentioned the phone logs. And then Piper is reviewing CCTV footage for the area of the cannery, looking at both traffic cams and requesting video from nearby businesses.”

  “Is it likely to pan out?”

  Eryn’s expression remained neutral. “All it takes is one video, and she has more to review.”

  “And don’t forget we have a team on Nobles,” Gage added. “He may not have been the man who shot at you tonight, but he could’ve hired someone to do it.”

  “And you have the bottle, phone, cigarette butt, and casing to process for prints and DNA. Plus the boot print could still pan out. And what about Emory? She could have recovered the very thing we need.”

  “Right. Yeah. We can focus on these things and Tina’s background while the accountant works.” Sam’s words were upbeat, but her tone didn’t reflect the optimism.

  Made Griff’s stomach hurt. He didn’t like seeing her down and would do just about anything to make her feel better. Problem was he had no idea what
that might be. A good start might be encouraging her to go home and get some rest. “Why don’t we call it a night? Get some sleep so we’re fresh in the morning.”

  “Yeah, sure,” she said far too quickly for Griff’s liking. She gathered up the printout of Andy’s phone calls and texts and looked at Eryn. “I forgot to ask. Did he have any pictures on his cell or other data that might help?”

  “No pictures, but I do have GPS coordinates for the last few trips he took where he used GPS guidance.”

  “Can you print that for me?”

  “I’d like a copy, too,” Griff said.

  Eryn tapped a few keys. “On its way.”

  The printer spit out the pages. Griff was closest, so he grabbed them. He ran his gaze down the top page. “He searched for Ziggy’s Pub, and he went to Portland two days before he died. Eryn can you track the Portland address to the owner?”

  “Sure.”

  Griff watched her type in the information.

  “House is owned by…wait for it…” She looked up with a grin. “Tina Lowe.”

  “So he did go to see her,” Sam said excitedly. “Makes sense with the woman’s footprints we found in the car. She could totally be involved in this.”

  “I’ll get started on that background check tonight and maybe I’ll know enough for you to talk to her tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Eryn,” Sam said. “Do you want me to help?”

  Eryn faked a horrified look. “You know that’s not something I would encourage or even want.”

  “Okay, so is that enough for tonight?” Griff asked Sam. “Will you let Eryn work and go get some sleep?”

  She nodded, but didn’t move. He helped her into her jacket and took her elbow to urge her toward the door. “C’mon, Pepper. Time to go.”

  His adorable little Dalmatian who was sound asleep in the corner perked up her head and looked around confused.

  “Walk,” Griff said.

  She jumped up, charged him, but couldn’t stop and slid into his legs. He laughed at her antics, ruffled her head, and clipped on her leash.

  At the door, Sam looked back at Eryn. “You’ll text me if you see anything else in Andy’s data or learn anything urgent about Tina.”

  “Of course.”

  “I mean it,” Sam said, her tone firmer.

  “Hey, I got your back, girl.”

  Sam nodded her thanks, and they stepped into the training area.

  Griff looked at Sam. “I’m surprised you didn’t tell Eryn to go home, too.”

  “No point in it,” Sam said. “She’s a real night owl and needs very little sleep.”

  Griff held the door for Sam, and they moved into the drizzly night. Griff tucked the papers in his jacket, and Sam followed suit. The sky above was overcast, the area lit only by a few streetlights.

  “You’re going to go to bed, right?” he asked as they walked down the narrow road. “Not review the files you’re taking home with you.”

  “I might look at them for a bit.”

  He locked gazes with her. “Don’t make me come in and put you to bed.”

  She flashed her gaze up to him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Oh, yeah. Just try me and see.” He grinned at her, the misty rain dampening her face and leaving it glistening in the streetlight.

  She stared at him, trying so hard to keep a straight face, but finally burst out laughing.

  “You think I’m joking?”

  “No actually I don’t. Just the thought of you trying to get me to go to bed when I don’t want to is funny. I’m not sure you can do it.”

  “I’ll take that as a direct challenge.” He scooped her up into his arms and held tight.

  She gaped at him. “Put me down, Griff.”

  “Can’t. Not when you issued a challenge.”

  He strode confidently toward her cabin, Pepper running fast to keep up. He shifted Sam higher in his arms, freeing his hand to open the door.

  She shook her head. “Seriously, this is ridiculous.”

  “You issued the challenge.” He grinned at her.

  Despite a smile turning up the corners of her lips, she kept a firm look on her face. “I didn’t really mean for you to follow through.”

  “You should know me, honey. I follow through on everything.” He kicked the door closed and dropped Pepper’s leash. He marched through the living area and flipped on the light in Sam’s bedroom decorated in cool grays and bright red accents. He crossed the room until his knees touched the side of her bed loaded with pillows.

  “Night, honey.” He kissed her on the forehead and reluctantly dropped her.

  She bounced once and immediately scrambled to her feet. Her shoulders went back. She eyed him. He stood inches away. Her breath came in little puffs through parted lips. Her nearness hit him in a rush of emotions like a locomotive racing out of control. All he wanted to do was sweep her into his arms and kiss her soundly. This had been a bad idea. A very bad one.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and backed up, almost stepping on Pepper. He bent to pick her up. “I know we’ve been joking, but promise me you’ll get some sleep tonight.”

  “I promise.”

  He headed for the door and turned back. “Just know if I see your light on much later, I’ll come back for a repeat performance. Only this time you won’t be getting up so quickly.”

  Morning dawned cold and drizzly as Griff drove them in Sam’s Jeep to Nobles’ house to take over his surveillance. The squeaky windshield wiper clawed across the glass, each swipe getting on Sam’s last nerve. And the rainy weather was a downer, too. She hoped for sun to help bolster her mood. She didn’t really know why she was cranky, but she’d woken up that way, and it had continued to progress.

  She finished the dog hair analysis and concluded it was a match, and the bottle was an obvious match for one set of prints found on the door latch. Both were positive results, but only in the sense that it told them Nobles had been in his own building. Sam had prepared an overnight package with the bottle, cigarette, and bullet casing, then called for a pick-up and left the package with Hannah when they dropped Pepper off. Emory agreed to look for prints on the bullet casing after she recovered the DNA, and hopefully that would match, too, revealing the shooter.

  Sam rolled her shoulder, thankful it didn’t bother her as much as she expected it would. Another big positive. Plus, she’d gotten plenty of sleep thanks to Griff’s threat of coming back. She couldn’t let that happen or she feared she would cave into her feelings.

  When they’d stood there in her bedroom, close enough to feel his breath on her face, she’d almost kissed him. He seemed like he wanted to do the same thing and would have been very receptive to it. Dangerous territory for them both.

  And thinking about it only made her more aware of the man seated next to her. Maybe that explained her mood.

  Frustration. Pure and simple frustration.

  Or maybe his serious and unyielding disposition this morning was the reason. He was equally as cranky. Or maybe just focused. Either way, he’d barely said a word and something odd was going on with him.

  He glanced at her and pointed at her hand. “Seatbelt bothering you?”

  “What?” She looked down. She’d forgotten she was holding the seatbelt away from yesterday’s bruise. “It’s sore, but bearable. And yours?”

  “The same.” He looked back at the road. “Mind if I stop by my place for a few minutes? I’d like to pick up some additional equipment.”

  “Like what?”

  “Just some things I might need if we have an altercation with Nobles. I won’t be caught off guard like last night. I won’t fail you again.” His fingers tightened on the wheel.

  Just like last night when he’d wrestled the truck out of the line of fire. Her near-death experience came rushing back, taking her breath. She’d pretended to be strong, but she was more freaked out than she’d been in her life. Maybe that was what he was thinking about this morning. too. Still blaming himself,
she suspected. That was just the kind of guy he was.

  “You didn’t fail me, Griff. I’m fine,” she said. “And as far as equipment goes, we already loaded up everything we might need.”

  “I doubt that.” His tone was deadly serious, reminding her of his SEAL days.

  She waited for him to list other items he wanted to have along, but he didn’t. Why he didn’t want to tell her about his equipment, she had no idea. Maybe it was some top-secret SEAL thing.

  There was no point in begging for additional information when she’d see what he picked up in a few minutes. “I’m good with stopping at your place.”

  They drove down the coastal road, and she watched the surf pounding against the rocks below. The rocks had seemed so ominous last night, but not today. Sure, driving off the road would still be dangerous, but she saw God’s beauty in the scenery. The waves sounded like the rush of a train, ebbing and flowing. The morning was overcast, but the sun was trying to break through. She could easily imagine parking at an overlook and jetting down to the beach for a stroll, hand in hand with Griff. She wouldn’t ask him to do so. That would be foolish on so many levels.

  Her phone rang and caller ID told her it was Yancy at PPB. “Yancy. Good. Thanks for calling back. How’s the report coming?”

  “Sorry it took me so long. You know how records can be.”

  Did she ever. “Slow.”

  “You’re not going to like this, but there is someone you should be looking at.” His dire tone resonated in the phone.

  Her stomach clenched. “Who is it?”

  “Milt Scanlon.”

  That knot in her stomach tightened into a firm fist. “But Scanlon went away for life.”

  “Got a good lawyer and appealed. The judge overturned the conviction on a technicality. He got out last Friday.”

  “Oh, man. He’s the last person who should be on the street.”

  “And if he’s coming for you, he’ll get the job done.”

  Yancy’s words lit a flashing caution sign in her brain. “Do you have an address for him?”

  “He refused to provide one on release, but I can text you his attorney’s name and number. And I’ll email his rap sheet to refresh your memory.”