“And what was her latest responsibility?” He asked this even though he'd gotten the information from Abigail earlier in the day. No need to let anyone know he knew more than they might want to divulge. What people chose to leave out was almost as telling as what they thought was important to include in an interview.
“Recently, she took over payments and accounts receivable.”
Jeffers made a note of that. “Exactly what does that position entail?”
“She was the head of that department with several accountants beneath her. They handled incoming payments from our clients, keeping track of what had been billed and what was still outstanding.”
“Who did she report to?”
A flash of something, surprise or wariness, flashed in the older man's eyes. “All department heads in accounting report directly to me.”
So he knew her better than he'd wanted to admit.
“Was she good at her job?”
“Her skills were highly appreciated.”
Aaron glanced at the photo inside the notebook once more and wondered if Baxter was talking about her math skills or more personal ones. “Did she have any enemies?”
“Enemies?”
“Anyone who might want to harm her? Disgruntled employees in her department? Anyone she might've beaten out for her position who thought she didn’t deserve it?”
Baxter shook his head. “Oh, no. Everyone loved Brianna. I doubt you’ll find whoever did this at Hollister-Klein.”
The man was quick to defend his company, almost as if trying to divert any attention from them. Interesting. Okay, Baxter wanted to go another route, he’d happily oblige him. “Hollister-Klein is an import/export company?”
The CFO sank back into his chair, happily relaxing at a question about information that anyone could easily obtain by visiting their corporate website. “Yes, we deal with exporting products from all over the country internationally, as well as bringing in products our consumers want to buy here.”
“You also do some shipping of equipment and hardware for the military.” It was a statement. He wanted the man to know he’d done more than cursory research on the company.
“Yes,” Baxter swallowed and leaned in over his folded hands on the desktop—his jaw locking firm and his lips flattening out in a thin line. The friendly period of cooperation was over and he meant business. “But that information is classified. As I’m sure you’re well aware.”
“I understand. But because of that contract aren’t all your employees required to pass a security clearance to work here?”
“Those that will come into contact with classified information, yes,” Baxter finally said.
“And was Ms. Mathews one of those employees?”
The muscle in the other man’s jaw jumped. Now he was uncomfortable. Aaron lifted the corner of his mouth while he waited for an answer.
“When she became the head of the accounts division she had to pass a clearance check, yes.”
“And having done that would she have access to any sensitive government information?”
“If it had to do with payments and outstanding accounts, she could.”
“I see.” Jeffers made a note in his book, but mostly giving Baxter a chance to squirm. Didn’t take long.
“Now, I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Detective, but Brianna…er, Ms. Mathews wouldn’t have been interested in or accessed anything other than the files she’d need to carry out the duties her job required. I can assure you that we follow protocols set to protect all our dealings with any highly classified information.”
“I’m sure Hollister-Klein does,” Aaron said, mostly to get the other man to relax again. He made a note in his book to delve into the company’s government contracts, possibly with Edgars, whom he suspected knew more about the company than he had admitted. “Tell me what kind of a woman, Ms. Mathews is?”
“She’s sweet. Friendly. Everyone loved her.”
“Women as well as men?”
Baxter’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the question. “Yes, as far as I know. Why do you ask?”
“There were a number of pictures in her condo of Ms. Mathews with different men, but none with women. Do you know if she had any close female friends?”
“Never heard her mention anyone, but I’m sure she did. Don’t all women?”
“I suppose.”
Baxter seemed to consider the idea, then said, “But come to think of it, I’ve never heard her talk about any girlfriends.”
Another interesting piece of the puzzle. Either Ms. Whitson was lying about being friends, which he highly doubted, or Ms. Mathews had kept her a secret.
Baxter made a point of looking at his watch, a clue that he wanted the interview over. Luckily for him, Aaron had gotten quite a bit of information and was willing to let him off the hook—for now.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Baxter.” He closed his notebook, stood and shook hands with the businessman, whose palms were now a little damp.
* * * * *
The damn woman was driving him crazy.
Luke dropped the laptop on one of the beds in his room and stalked to the window. His own hunger for her wasn’t helping the matter any. Focus. That’s what he needed to do. Focus on the situation and keeping her safe. The tail might be following Jeffers, but it brought home the need to find a more secure place for Abby. If they were in his hometown of Columbus, he’d have several possibilities. Here in Cleveland he had few options.
Luckily, he had one source who might be able to help him.
Leaning against the window frame to watch the parking lot and street below, he hit the dial button and listened to the ringing.
“This better be good, kid,” was all the gruff voice on the other end of the line said in lieu of a greeting.
“Nice to talk to you, too, Castello.” Luke didn’t try to hide his momentary amusement. Only a few years younger than his older brother Dave, the U.S. Marshal had been adopted into the Edgars family after he helped save the life of Katie, his other brother Matt’s wife. Frank Castello was always grumpy as a bear coming out of hibernation and Luke had no end of enjoyment needling him, but today he had more important things to discuss. Sobering, he watched traffic on the street a moment. He didn’t like to admit this. “I need your help.”
“Tell me what you need and where you are. I can be there as soon as I wrap up what I’m doing.”
That was Castello. No questions about why he needed help. His loyalty to the Edgars family was unconditional.
“I need a safe house.”
“You can use the one in German Village. You remember it, don’t you?”
He remembered it. They’d hidden Katie there from the hitman stalking her until they could make plans to trap him. Of course things had taken a few left turns in their plans, but the safe house there was still a secret. Only problem was, it was in Columbus.
“I remember. But it won’t work.”
“Why?”
“I need one in Cleveland.”
There was a pause on the other end of the phone as Castello took in and processed this information. A moment later Luke heard typing in the background.
“It’s out of my district, but I’ve got a few options up there to keep my witnesses off the grid down here. What kind of amenities are you looking for?”
Damn, Frank sounded like a freaking travel agent. “Two bedrooms if you have it.”
“Uptown or downtown?”
“Someplace we won’t stick out too much. I’m trying to keep Abby way under the radar.”
“Abby?”
Crap. He didn’t need Castello getting curious. “A fellow agent.”
“Okay, no flophouse for you two then.” More typing ensued.
Luke walked over to the connecting door and peeked in at Abby. She sat in the middle of the far bed, glasses perched on her nose once more as she typed away on her laptop, looking as if nothing had happened between them. Maybe she was right to pretend they hadn
’t just shared a kiss that rocked both their worlds. He suspected they’d just scratched the surface of this thing and he was going to need all his attention focused on keeping them safe before it was over.
“Did you get it?” Castello was saying in his ear.
“Get what?”
“The address to the condo I just texted you.”
He looked at his phone. “Yep. Got it.”
“What’s going on up there, Luke?”
“Just a case.”
“Cut the crap. You and I both know you don’t go to a safe house without good reason. Is that reason Abby?”
Shit. Castello was as sharp as his brothers and brother-in-law, and even worse, he was like a freaking bloodhound when he scented something—nose to the ground until he unearthed what he was searching for. If he thought Abby was a problem, he’d be doing a background check on her. Neither she nor he needed someone higher up looking into what they were doing before he figured out just where this all led.
“Does this have anything to do with that quiet investigation you’ve been doing for Dave?”
His brother had asked him to look deep into State Senator Howard Klein’s background after the man’s son had nearly been killed by the same gunman who’d taken Dave’s wife hostage in the hospital OR where she worked. The last thing he wanted was his oldest brother barging in to take charge. Dave wasn’t always patient, and until he knew exactly what he was dealing with, he needed to proceed with more discretion. And there Frank went connecting dots. He was going to have tell him something.
“Not sure yet. There may be a connection, but we’re a long way from knowing what.”
“I’m assuming you don’t want the family to know anything right now.”
“We’ve got a missing woman, so yes, until I know for sure what I’m dealing with, yeah, I’d appreciate some QT on this.”
“Okay. Just texted you the entrance codes for the condo’s garage and back door. Keys to the unit are inside. And Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t hear from you in twenty-four hours, all bets are off with the family.”
Ever since he’d been the one to discover his former partner tortured and murdered for information, Frank had done periodic check-ins with every member of the Edgars family. Usually once a week, unless he thought you might be in danger.
“Got it. I should have this wrapped up in time for the weekly poker game,” he said, trying to ease the Marshal’s worry.
“Good. Still want to hear from you in twenty-four,” Frank said, not buying his bullshit and hung up.
Now that he had a new, safer place to hide Abby, it was time to go on the offensive. He grabbed his laptop-tablet and sat at the desk, quickly pulling up the coordinates for the last ping they got of the victim’s phone and entered it into a satellite map of Cleveland. It narrowed in on an old industrial park with old warehouses and flattop buildings. Not exactly a pinpoint location, but damn close.
“Who were you talking to?” Abby stood in the doorway watching him.
“A friend. He’s setting up a place for us.”
“Why?”
He closed the laptop, so she couldn’t see what he was working on. No use getting her hopes up and he wanted to get her settled into the safe house before he checked the site out. “The hotel was a temporary solution last night. Now that we know someone is interested enough to tail Jeffers, we need a more secure location.”
“Why don’t we just go to your home?”
He gave her a half smile. “That would be a hell of a commute. Remember, my place is three hours away in Columbus.”
“I thought you were the regional agent for this area.” She drew her eyebrows down, causing her glasses to slip down onto the tip of her nose, and pulled her lower lip between her teeth, something she tended to do when she worried.
“It’s a big region and I was en route anyways. So they diverted me here.”
“Your friend is letting us stay at his home?”
“Nope. He lives in Columbus, too. He’s giving us one of his safe houses.”
“Safe house? He works for Homeland, too?”
“No. He’s a U.S. Marshal. It’s a house he uses to protect witnesses before trial.” He shoved his chair back and walked over to stand in front of her. Taking a moment, he looked deep into her eyes before using one finger to push her glasses back up on her nose a bit.
“You’re that sure that we’re in danger?”
Damn sure you’re in danger. “I’m not taking any chances. And you might as well give me your smartphone, too.”
“Why?” she asked even as she went to retrieve it, a sign that she might question his motives, but was learning to trust his orders.
He took the phone from her. Flipping it over, he removed the battery, then handed them back to her. “You can keep these in your suitcase for when the case is finished, but don’t use it again until then. Whoever removed Bethanne’s cell phone battery may be smart enough to search her call record or contact list.”
“Brianna,” she corrected him again as she slipped the phone and battery into the bottom of her bag. “And they’d find my name and number.”
“You need to get all your things packed. I don’t want to leave even a candy wrapper behind. Okay?”
“Okay. I didn’t unpack that much so I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” She turned to grab the things out of her closet, then looked over her shoulder at him with a you-didn’t-fool-me-for-a-second look on her face. “And while you’re driving to the safe house, you can tell me what it was you didn’t want me to see on your laptop.”
* * * * *
“You are not going with me.”
“Yes, I am.” Abigail resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. They’d been having this discussion—she refused to call it an argument—since they stepped out of the hotel. Instead, she focused her attention on plugging Brianna’s phone number into the new cell phone they’d picked up at a local electronics store. Luke had insisted on buying it with his credit card and using his mother’s name on the account. While she understood the real possibility Brianna could compromise her, especially if her captors were using physical torture to gain information, but super-spy’s paranoia was a little over the top.
“It’s dangerous and no place for an amateur,” he said turning left again. He’d been doubling back and forth, almost going in concentric circles, since they’d left the store, hoping to either pick up a tail or lose one. She wasn’t quite sure which.
“If it’s so dangerous, then that’s exactly why you can’t go alone with no backup. Besides, if you find Brianna, then you’ll need help getting her out of the place.”
“And if we find her dead body?”
His harsh words vibrated with the anger in his voice, making her lean away from the pain they caused. Damn the man. He’d always known the buttons to push to get her riled. He’d challenged her on every physical exercise during their weeks of training, almost as if he wanted to prove to her and the instructors she shouldn’t be considered a field agent. Unlike some other members of their training class, however, he’d never made fun of her or tried to humiliate her. Why would he choose now to hurt her?
To make her want to stay behind.
Well, too damn bad. She was going and that was all there was to it.
“Then I’ll catalogue the entire area before the local cops get there. And not just the crime scene.”
He didn’t say anything else, because there was no argument that trumped her special skills and they both knew it. In the dim light of the passing streetlamps, she watched him flex and grip his hands tighter over the steering wheel. He might be conceding the point and letting her accompany him to the area Brianna’s last phone signal had come from, but he wasn’t happy about it.
They drove a few more minutes in a snake-like pattern. Finally, assured no one had followed them, he pulled into an area of upscale apartments and condos, maneuvering the car behind one that looked like an English cottage she’
d seen on the Travel Channel once. Pulling into a drive, he lowered his window at a keypad and punched in a set of numbers to open the garage door. Abigail looked around the area and no other place had this keypad feature. What other special security devices were in the place?
Luke drove inside, cutting the engine as the garage door closed behind them automatically.
“Impressive,” she said as they climbed out of the car.
“Castello’s big on keeping his people secure.” Handing her his laptop-tablet, he opened the trunk and grabbed her bags with his, motioning her to the door into the house. She could argue that she was capable of carrying her own bags, but it felt nice having him haul the bag and letting her carry the lighter and more delicate electronics.
“That’s your Marshal friend’s name? Castello?”
“Yes. And let’s get this gear inside before you start playing twenty questions.”
Apparently, he was still aggravated about including her on the mission tonight. She followed him inside, fighting the urge to grin. All those weeks that he teased and challenged her during their training, she’d always been the one tense, angry and aggravated. It felt good to be the one delivering that feeling for once.
“Wow,” she said as she stepped into the upscale cook’s kitchen. It looked like an episode of one of the home design shows, complete with hardwood floors, granite countertops, porcelain country sink and cupboards made out of cherry wood and beveled glass. The room was part of an open-concept design, extending past a dining area and out into a great room with a leather sectional and fireplace made out of river stones from floor to ceiling. “Castello has nice taste.”
“He tends to be a minimalist, focusing on the security of a building, not the comfort of it. I doubt the big guy paid much attention to the furnishings.” Luke closed the door to the garage, then set the bags down on the counter.
She ran her hand over the granite countertop. “I didn’t realize U.S. Marshals must made good money.”
“He inherited a big chunk of money when he was in college, said he wanted to invest in property. Guess this is what he did with some of it.” Luke opened the refrigerator. “Damn. He doesn’t have much stocked in here.”
VANISHED, A Romantic Suspense Novel (Edgars Family Novel) Page 10