by Kim McMahill
“Were the two other companies she claimed to work for any of the three we’ve been looking into, that have experienced ‘accidents’ in the past few years?”
“No. The two companies she claimed to work for have had smooth sailing, but when I forwarded her photo to GenTech, Polk, and Smith and Brown, they all claimed a woman who looked similar to the photo had worked for them for a short time, but not under the name Janice Green, and not in a position as high level as her current one at UVN. Apparently, she is able to alter her appearance significantly.”
Devyn nearly jumped out of her chair to hug Nick but restrained the urge and resumed a professional tone. “Finally a break. Let’s bring her in.”
“My first thought, too, but when I went by her office she wasn’t there. The room was cleaned out of any personal belongings. It looked so deserted that I expected to see cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. Her assistant claimed she hasn’t seen her in several days, and she is not permitted to enter Janice’s office for any reason. The assistant stated that it wasn’t her place to ever question her boss’s schedule. Anyway, I went by the home address listed in her personnel file, and it’s a bakery.”
“Why am I not surprised? Send someone over to UVN to stake it out and see if she shows back up, and have a forensic team go over her office and see if she left any hint as to where she came from, where she went, but most importantly, who she really is. If we could get some fingerprints or DNA off something, maybe we could find out her identity. Somehow I doubt Janice Green, or any of the other names she used for employment at the other companies, is her real name.”
“Right again. I already ran Janice Green and all the aliases she’s used at the other companies and came up with squat. I’ll send Jones and Thompson over to canvas the place. How much do you want to bet Ms. Green is gone for good and didn’t leave a speck of evidence?”
“No doubt about it, so in the meantime let’s focus on tracking down Jonah Hausner and Stephen Clark. Clark probably can’t help much with figuring out who’s behind all of these questionable accidents. Since he went into hiding and is reportedly terrified, he clearly doesn’t know what to do or who he should be hiding from. If we don’t find him soon, he likely won’t survive to see the sunrise. Hausner, on the other hand…locate him, and I imagine we’ll identify at least a minor player who can hopefully lead us to whoever’s in charge.”
“What makes you think Hausner knows anything?” Nick asked.
“Because he and Janice are the only players not accounted for and who are presumably still alive,” she stated, reaching for the ringing phone on her desk. “Nash. Be right down. Thanks.”
“Got something?” Nick asked as he marveled at his partner’s intensity. He wasn’t sure why the pharmaceutical and research companies’ accident cases were so important to her, but he, too, was relieved to finally have the opportunity to dig a little deeper. He wasn’t a stranger to the industry. He tried to keep the past in the past, but had to admit Devyn wasn’t the only one who had lost a few nights’ sleep thinking about all the connections.
“Tech has pulled traffic and security camera footage from around Hausner’s building and think they have something. I’m heading downstairs to check it out. See if anyone has any leads on tracking down Dr. Clark, and then let’s get ready to roll,” Devyn stated as she stood and headed toward the elevator.
“I was afraid you’d say that. I’ll top off the vehicle, check our survival and emergency road gear, and then head home and see if I can remember where I stashed my long underwear. I had really hoped that Salt Lake City was as rural as I’d ever have to get, but I should have known it wouldn’t take much to get you racing to the boondocks to help out your old sheriff buddy.”
Devyn stopped and gave Nick a scathing look over her shoulder.
“Sorry, Sheriff Gage Harris isn’t old. He’s smoking hot.”
“I never said that, and this has nothing to do with Sheriff Harris. You know how I feel about this case.”
“Yes, unfortunately, I do. You’ve nearly gotten us suspended multiple times over your obsession with a series of incidents outside our jurisdiction.”
“This one is in our jurisdiction. Besides, I don’t recall ever twisting your arm to get you to ride along. Now go do something useful instead of just hanging out here to annoy me.”
“The fact that your fantasy man is involved is just a bonus,” Nick mumbled under his breath.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Devyn fired back as the elevator doors closed behind her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grace was torn between relief at being back in the comfortable and familiar confines of the ranch house and terrified of being trapped. They weren’t exactly trapped, but if the wind continued at its current velocity all night, they most likely would be by morning. The rate of snowfall had let up, but drifting was just as much of a concern.
Back to square one, Grace thought as she checked on Charlotte and the two other pigs happily burrowed into the straw in their temporary pen in the garage. She and Logan had worked all day preparing to leave, and here they were just where they started out. The lane leading to the highway was still passable, but not with an extended four-horse trailer loaded down with animals. Even if they got out, there was nowhere safer to go that could accommodate her traveling zoo.
“Dinner’s ready.”
Grace looked up at the man standing in the doorway between the house and the garage. She could tell he was concerned about staying put, but was trying to make the best of it and alleviate her fears.
“You should have let me help. Just because you cooked, I’m still not doing the dishes.”
“What is it with you and dishes?” Logan asked as he stepped aside, allowing her room to walk through the door into the house.
“I have nothing against dishes. In fact, I use them every day. I do believe God made dishwashers for a reason, and Uncle Moss is just being stubborn by refusing to install one, so when I’m here, I boycott cleanup.”
Logan threw his head back and laughed. “So, you’re crediting God with the invention of the dishwasher?”
“It is a divine piece of equipment, so who else could possibly be responsible?”
Logan was still chuckling as he set their plates on the table. There was nothing Grace wouldn’t do to hold onto that sound. Moss had taken good care of her, but laughter had always been a rare commodity in her life which she hadn’t realized was lacking until now.
Her mother had yelled a lot, and her father had shrunk away from confrontation. He never reminded her mother the reason Moss had the ranch and they had nothing was because she had squandered the money he inherited in lieu of the ranch on a ridiculously lavish lifestyle they couldn’t sustain without a steady income, which her father never pursued.
He hadn’t fought for her when her mother decided to “saddle Moss with the responsibility and financial burden of a child.” Grace hadn’t understood that statement then, and she still didn’t. The only money her mother had spent on her was to hire nannies which Grace didn’t want or need. When they could no longer afford nannies, her mother slipped into depression and placed the blame on her.
“Earth to Grace.”
She glanced up to see Logan standing within arm’s reach with a concerned look on his handsome face.
“I love hearing you laugh,” Grace told him.
“Then you should be smiling not looking like you’re on the verge of tears.”
“I didn’t realize how much I want and need laughter in my life until I heard your laughter. I was a serious kid, an intense college student, and now I’m a focused researcher and dedicated employee. Moss and Butch were wonderful and took great care of me, and I was always happy with them, but neither man was prone to fits of levity, and a research lab isn’t exactly a house of comedy either.”
The mischief in Logan’s eyes made Grace nervous, but not in a bad way. He was up to something, she had no doubt.
“There’s more t
han one way to elicit laughter,” he said as he grabbed Grace around the waist and tossed her over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” she demanded, pounding on his back, torn between embarrassment at her humiliating position and amusement at his attempt to lift her spirits along with the rest of her.
“As you command.” He dumped her onto the couch and straddled her, pinning her arms to the cushions. He reached back and tickled the arch of her foot.
Grace acted offended, but after several seconds she couldn’t hold back the giggles. “Okay, stop! I give. You win.”
Logan ended the torture, but didn’t move. “Now that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
His smile touched her deeply, yet made her ache. Her heart already belonged to him, but if he didn’t want her, she had no doubt it would break.
“I’m starting to lose feeling in my hands. You’re not exactly a featherweight.”
“Sorry.” He scooted just enough to free her arms but didn’t rise.
Grace shook her wrists to get the blood flowing, never taking her eyes off of his.
“You’re not going to punch me, are you?”
“I should. It would be no less than you deserve for throwing me over your shoulder like a caveman. We modern women don’t think that’s very funny.”
“Then why did you laugh?”
Grace smiled, enjoying the ridiculous debate and the feeling of Logan pressed against her. Slowly, she reached up and grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him down until their lips met, not caring that dinner was getting cold.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Frank followed his GPS to the old motel on the outskirts of town where he had ordered Sam and Vince to wait. Despite the facility’s less than five-star appearance, he craved dropping onto a bed for some real sleep before getting back out on the treacherous roads, but time was an indulgence he couldn’t allow himself or any of his team. The longer they delayed, the more likely that additional people would gain access to Grace’s research data, which would require more damage control.
Jonah had awakened an hour ago, full of pleas and complaints, forcing Frank’s associates to tie a gag around his mouth. Victor had wanted to shoot the whiner and throw him off the mountain, and Frank had been tempted to comply, but they needed him alive a bit longer. The scientist might prove useful in luring Grace Talbot into a peaceful capture, or a hostage might come in handy in preventing the deputy from interfering.
Frank wasn’t sure yet exactly how he would use his captive, but his contact had ordered him to acquire the academic as an insurance policy. Having a bargaining chip gave him additional options and flexibility.
As far as he knew, the local authorities hadn’t officially ruled the fire, the car accident, or any missing persons a crime yet, but Frank wondered if they were just keeping their cards close to their chests or if they really had something. His sources confirmed the Salt Lake Police held firm on the investigating officer’s determination that the car crash was an accident, and they refused to reopen the case despite contact by a Wyoming county sheriff concerning the crash and the disappearance of the victim’s colleagues.
If the sheriff has ruled out foul play in the barn burning, then why the call to the Salt Lake Police and why post a guard outside Grace’s uncle’s hospital room? Yes, they know something is up. If he were quick, maybe he could take care of business before they got too organized and took any more precautions. He wanted to be sitting on a beach somewhere far away before the local law enforcement knew what hit them.
“Wait here, and make sure our guest doesn’t try anything stupid or draw any unwanted attention in our direction. Keep the vehicle running. I won’t be gone long. We’re burning daylight, and fast,” Frank told Victor, the two hired guns sitting silently in the back seat of the rig, and a still gagged Jonah.
The wind howled as Frank opened the door and faced the brutal chill. He pulled the collar of his coat up close to his ears and made his way to the motel room’s exterior entrance. He knocked, and after a slight movement of the curtain, the door opened. He entered the room, thankful to be out of the cold.
“Everything ready?”
Sam and Vince nodded while slipping on the snow boots and parkas they had purchased several days ago.
“Heard the storm is picking up. Daylight is running short, and we’re heading for some pretty rough country. Maybe we should wait until morning,” Vince stated.
“Thanks to you two idiots, we have a lot of loose ends to tie up, and fast. We don’t have the luxury of waiting for a sunny day. I suppose the upside, if there is one, is that the odds of encountering witnesses in this weather are relatively low.”
The two men nodded in agreement and offered no other objections to leaving the warm confines of their shoddy motel room.
Frank suppressed the urge to laugh as the men dropped the arguments and filled him in on what to expect once they got to the ranch, trying to sound efficient and important. If his reputation preceded him, the men knew how vital it was to prove their worth, otherwise he would have no reason to keep them alive.
Helping Sam and Vince gather up their gear and sanitize the room, Frank left the shelter of the motel with the two men close on his heels and faced the biting wind yet again. Only a few vehicles sat in the parking lot, and he saw no other people braving the weather. He scanned the area and located no surveillance cameras. Either the technology was well-concealed, or this motel owner felt the potential for crime was low enough that security was not a priority. Frank hoped for the latter.
“That the vehicle?” Frank asked, pointing to a late 1990’s model four-wheel-drive pickup hooked up to a trailer loaded with two snowmobiles.
“Sure is. Just what you ordered, boss,” Vince grinned.
Frank shook his head. The big dumb fool just stood there, practically panting like a dog hoping for an approving pat on the head or a cookie. Clearly he was new to the game, but there was nothing he could do about the hired help at the moment. At least Sam was a veteran, and the two last minute additions to his lean team before leaving Salt Lake City came highly recommended.
“Anyone gonna miss this rig?” Frank was almost afraid of the answer, but needed to know how hot the equipment was.
“Not for months,” Vince stated. “Overheard a couple guys in a diner in Montana talking about the O’Dells, and how lucky they were to be snow-birding it in Florida. Said it was smarter to be a farmer than a rancher, because with cattle a person can never get away from the weather, but they couldn’t figure out why old man O’Dell bought new snowmobiles this season if he had no intention of sticking around to ride. Anyway, O’Dell is not that common a name so it didn’t take long to track down their place, and we found this rig all hooked up in a big metal building ready to go. We switched plates on the truck and trailer, added some striping to the pickup, and made sure to get it so dirty no one will recognize it. We even took the snowmobiles out and tested them to make sure they ran, and then we fueled them back up.”
“A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would have sufficed,” Frank stated as he tossed a duffle into the back seat of the club cab pickup. “Put a muzzle on your lap dog.”
Sam nodded. “Sorry, boss. My usual guy ran into a little problem on the last job and took an unfortunate fall off a very tall mountain, and I didn’t have much time to find a replacement. Vince may talk too much, but he’s as mean as a rabid Pit Bull, tough as an ox, and he follows orders.”
“Well, that’s something, but no more excuses or mistakes. My clients are furious, and we need to make this right. Here, I doubt anyone has the technology to intercept the scrambled signal, but use this only if absolutely necessary. If we need to communicate, keep the messages cryptic and brief, just in case anyone is listening,” Frank said as he handed Sam a tiny two-way radio.
Heading for the waiting vehicle, Frank slipped into the passenger side. He glanced over his shoulder at the wide-eyed and terrified man in the back seat. Frank felt no pity. He felt nothing. Jonah h
ad willingly gotten involved the moment he accepted the envelope full of money.
Now he had to earn it.
As the large SUV eased out of the parking lot and onto the snow-packed street, Frank was thankful the town was full of big vehicles and trailers. No one would notice the brief passing of another large four-wheel-drive or a truck pulling a snowmobile trailer following several vehicles behind.
Frank thought about the brief report Sam and Vince had relayed about the ranch, and the place sounded like purgatory. Frank despised nature. Remote jobs seldom encountered interference from some well-intentioned bystander, but on the flipside, rural targets were often armed and didn’t always concede defeat easily.
In this case, he already knew there was a deputy with Grace, but the report on the man indicated he had relocated to Wyoming after being on the losing end of a shootout with drug dealers on the Mexican border, so hopefully he had lost his nerve and would be reluctant to go that route again.
Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, Frank accessed a picture of Grace Talbot. She was a looker in a sweet and innocent kind of way, which often made men jump to the defense. Will the deputy be willing to lay down his life for her or are his old scars still too fresh?
Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Devyn had spent a good chunk of the morning going through the security footage for the past twenty-four hours from all the cameras mounted on every stoplight and building within a six-block radius of Jonah Hausner’s building. The original hit the tech team had called her about hadn’t panned out, but she continued to look. The man couldn’t just disappear from his apartment. Sooner or later he’d have to show up on a camera.
She was about ready to concede defeat when she caught a break. A camera in a parking lot across the street from his apartment complex showed Jonah locked arm in arm with a person she had never seen before. The stranger’s outside hand was in his jacket pocket, and the bulge in the pocket indicated he was probably holding something, likely a gun.