Deep Extraction

by DiAnn Mills

  “Nothing. We’ve isolated Anita Krantz to those where she’s in the company of another person.” He positioned several images of Krantz for them to view. “We’ve identified her with Nathan Moore, coworkers, guests of the business, and Preston Ustach.”

  Max broke into a coughing spasm and left the room. Cole requested the tech agent enlarge the image of Anita and Ustach and roll the video. The pair met in the lobby and rode the elevator to the fifth floor. Cole studied the images for the next hour, but none of the others flashed a possible warning.

  He sent Krantz’s interview to Max and Tori. Two things he’d assessed from Ustach—he’d gotten too close to the bomber and possibly Nathan’s killer, and he’d died for it. His funeral was tomorrow. Cole texted Tori.

  Want 2 go with me 2 Ustach’s funeral tomorrow morning?

  Yes. How about a visit 2 the oil rig? The security guard was on duty the day of the bombing and the sniper attack.

  Reading my thoughts?

  Need 2 end this case.

  How r Sally & boys?

  Up & down. Not leaving until later.

  Kit & Wes gone?

  Yes.

  His opinion of the couple leaving their daughter when life was shattering around her wasn’t complimentary. Abandonment fit the bill.

  Ok. Pick u up @ 7:30 a.m. @ FBI office.

  Cole slid his phone beside his laptop. He’d wrap things up here and head to the Moores’, where he could see her in person. The same bodyguards had worked for Nathan since the EPA suit, and they’d been questioned and cleared. But a nagging thought persisted. Difficult to work around people and not hear things, and he was banking on one of them giving him more info.

  Outside the Moore home, the bodyguards held two positions, front and back of the huge home, two people inside and two outside. Cole made his way to the man at the front. He stood legs apart, dressed in jeans and a blue cotton shirt.

  “Marshal Jeffers, how can I help you?”

  “I assume you’ve always been stationed in this spot.”

  “Yes, sir.” His eyes never left the perimeter of his detail.

  “I’ve done protection duty for judges and witness protection. Kept me on alert and my fingers not far from my weapon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I heard personal things and comments that could have been used in a court of law.”

  “Sir, nothing’s been overheard on my watch that could solve Mr. Moore’s murder.”

  “Thank you. Have you seen or heard matters that concern you for their safety?”

  He appeared to deliberate the request. “Talk to my colleague at the rear of the home.”

  Cole found the tall woman pleasant but quiet. He made small talk before asking the same questions as with the other guard.

  “My job is to protect people, not to gossip.” Large brown eyes bored into his.

  “Look at the situation this way. What you know could bring a killer to justice and prevent others from being hurt.”

  She squinted. “Marshal Jeffers, I’ve thought about that very thing . . . often.”

  He waited while she glanced away, then back to him.

  “Mr. Moore took calls outside, which corresponded to my afternoon and evening shift. On the night of his death, approximately 7:20 p.m., he made a call. He never referred to the person by name or gave any indication whether it was a man or woman. I stood in the shadows, and I doubt he knew I overheard the conversation.”

  This occurred after asking Sally for a divorce and leaving the dinner table. The call must have been made on a burner because it wasn’t registered on the Moores’ cell phones.

  “He said he detested what he’d done to Sally and the boys. His flight was booked for the next afternoon, and he’d take care of business from there. Nothing more was said. Except . . .”

  “What?”

  She blew out her hesitation. “He dropped the phone on the patio and stomped on it. Several times. Then he picked up the pieces and walked them across the street to where the neighbors had trash bins ready for the morning pickup. He tossed them there.”

  Just like Lance, she’d withheld information. “Why hasn’t this information come forward before now?”

  “I’m in the middle of a divorce that’s leading to a custody battle. No excuse, except my mind is on personal matters. Been thinking about what happened to Mr. Moore and the investigation. My conscience got the best of me. I may lose my job over this, but the truth still needs to be said.”

  “Thank you.” Cole excused himself and spoke to the two bodyguards inside the home. Neither of them had information. He returned to the patio and contacted his sources about Nathan’s flight. Tori saw him from inside the kitchen and waved. He returned the gesture.

  Who had Nathan called? If he’d contacted Anita Krantz, would he have shared his concern over hurting Sally and the boys?

  Fifteen minutes later, the report sailed into his cell phone.

  Nathan had been booked on a flight to London out of IAH Airport. One-way. Who had he called?

  ALBERT ENTERED the Chili’s restaurant where he’d meet James for dinner, their habit whenever his friend was in town. The two had been friends since James stopped Albert’s mail truck years ago and asked for directions. They started talking and the rest was years of good times. James was already seated at their normal booth near the bar. Good, because Albert wanted to drink and talk. His friend rose to meet him, his tan jacket and navy pants indicating he’d come from an event.

  A server approached and placed two cocktail napkins on the table.

  “What are you drinking?” James said. “The usual?”

  Albert nodded and ordered a beer.

  “A Sprite for me.” James silenced his phone.

  “Nothing stronger this evening?”

  “I’ll pass. Have to lecture early in the morning. Need to be alert.” He ran his fingers through thick white hair.

  “Disappointing, considering I’ve already had two.”

  James grinned. “Next time. Are you in the mood for a rack of ribs?”

  “Definitely.” The day was supposed to have rejuvenated him. Instead he wanted to forget.

  His friend rested his arm on the table. “Once we order, you’ll have to tell me what’s been going on.”

  Apprehension seized him. “What do you mean? With Erik?”

  “No, I check in with the hospital every day. I’ll see him while I’m in town. I mean you wanted Nathan dead, and that’s what happened.”

  Albert’s mind jumped to panic mode. “I’ll get to that discussion after another drink.”

  “No problem,” James said. “You look like you need to relax.”

  “Thanks for all the advice you’ve given and payment toward Erik’s medical bills. James, you’re closer to me than a brother. I can never repay all you’ve done for my boy. Since Erik was a toddler, you’ve helped me with him.” Would James still be his friend when Erik breathed his last?

  “My privilege.” James straightened.

  The server brought their drinks, and they placed their food orders.

  James picked up the conversation. “I’m worried about you. You told me a few months back your plans for the man who’d ruined Erik’s life. How you wanted him dead and had arranged for Walt Hanna to hack his pacemaker. Are you being careful?”

  Albert swallowed a lump in his throat. “I told you what I intended to do?”

  “You sure did. We were right here. Been drinking for a few hours. You even gave me the day and time. You had been talking about how Nathan must pay for what he did to Erik.”

  Albert fed caution into his brain. He’d have to be more careful. Trusting James was a given, but Albert had little control of his mouth when he was drinking. “The problem is I wanted money for my son’s care, not revenge that resulted in murder.”

  “Too late now.”

  “Well, it happened. Funeral was today. Thought you might be there to send Nathan off in style.”

  “I had a speakin
g engagement. Besides, I might have been guilty of smiling too much. In any event, I’m proud of you. Glad it worked out. Nathan destroyed Erik’s life, and you brought justice to the matter.”

  “According to an attorney I saw this afternoon, without proof of Erik filing the appropriate paperwork, my son is still in a precarious situation. He’d take the case but the upfront money is ridiculous.” He shook his head. “Who am I fooling? I’m back to where I started.”

  “Looks like the FBI and US Marshals are investigating every aspect of his death and business practices,” James said. “The media reports discredit his impeccable reputation. The proof will surface.”

  “Maybe so, but Erik’s running out of time, and I spent my last penny on the hacker. The house is mortgaged. My retirement’s gone.” This wasn’t his friend’s battle. “I’m sorry. No need to unload on you.”

  James paused while the server placed their salads before them. He thanked the young man and turned to Albert. “I despise the evil Nathan did to Erik and you. If I had the cash, I’d fund the attorney. My wife watches every penny I spend of her money, and she’s reluctant to part with any more for Erik.”

  “I’d never come to you for money. Hope I didn’t interfere with your marriage or come across like a beggar.”

  “Of course not. Surely there’s an alternate plan, another angle to look at the problem.”

  Albert contemplated his options. “I refuse to give up when the money is sitting in the Moore family accounts.”

  “I figured you bombed the oil rig.”

  He lifted a brow. Another crime he didn’t remember? “Not me.”

  “You’re an ingenious man. I’m sure an idea will rise from the momentary setback.” James leveled his butter knife at Albert. “And it is only a minor setback. Don’t give up.”

  “You already know about Nathan’s demise. Suggestions for this next go-round?”

  “Extract the money from Sally Moore. She stands to inherit millions.”

  “Do you think that because she once dated Erik she’d hand over what’s owed to him? You’re crazy, James. She has to be aware of how it ended between Nathan and Erik.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Nathan was devious, the master of deceit. My point is he’s gone, and legal action appears worthless.”

  Albert studied his old friend’s face, the man who’d been like a brother to him. He’d think through his options. “When I visited her, she appeared surprised about Erik’s illness. I can turn this around, and I have a plan to accomplish it.”

  “You do whatever it takes.” James motioned to Albert’s empty glass. “Have another drink. Our ribs will be here any sec.”

  An hour and a half later, long after Albert stopped counting the beers, he and James made their way into the night air, which should have sobered him up a little. Tonight he didn’t care. Numbing his brain to Erik’s illness was always welcome. To make matters worse, depression had settled when he failed to focus on a way to force Sally Moore to relinquish some of her money. James declared revenge was sweet, but all Albert tasted was defeat.

  James helped him into a taxi and gave the driver his address. He’d follow with Albert’s car, and the taxi driver would make a round trip. The drill had become rote.

  SATURDAY MORNING, Cole met Tori at the FBI office before he drove them to Kenny & Ziggy’s on Post Oak for breakfast. Another working weekend. Eight o’clock and the restaurant was bustling with activity and smelled like he’d just stepped into heaven. He’d been up since before six, pondering facts and statements, searching the Internet, and requesting reports. The biggest question revolved around Nathan’s plans to leave Houston. Was the trip permanent? How did he intend to inform Sally? Where did Anita Krantz fit?

  He and Tori were seated. She ordered challah French toast with a side order of blueberries, and he chose a Western omelet. He drank deep of the coffee, willing his head to clear the fog.

  “You’re quiet this morning.” Tori rested her chin on her palm.

  He stared at her. She had this beautiful, sweet glow about her. Nice to think it was because of him. “I’m going to unload. I’m puzzled, angry, confused, and downright determined. And the latest is who did Nathan call on that phone he destroyed?”

  She covered her mouth, but he saw her upturned lips. “Thanks for making me smile. All week, you’ve made the pressure of this case a little easier.”

  He’d take that and dive into the day with or without coffee. He chose to voice his apprehension. “The real Nathan was not the man I respected.”

  “Sally used similar words. I regretted the promise we made to her the moment you told me about his London trip. I don’t want to tell her everything we learn. But on the other hand, I’m glad we’re not keeping anything from her. I’m also puzzled, angry, confused, and downright determined.”

  “How’d she handle the London news?” Tori had taken on that task while Cole looked through Nathan’s office.

  “I’d say incredulously. That’s when she insisted she was married to a stranger and questioned why he hadn’t told her about the trip. She also said he’d been to London in September regarding the possibility of opening a second office and negotiating for oil wells in the North Sea.” She rubbed her left wrist. “I’ve made a decision.”

  “And?”

  “I’m moving in with her tonight until this is over. She needs a sounding board, and I have the fortitude to handle it. I know Sally, and she’ll spend every idle second thinking about Nathan’s trip to London.”

  He hesitated, forming his words. “What if you learn she’s guilty?”

  “I’ll make the arrest and do my job.”

  “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

  “Neither you nor I were aware of the real Nathan Moore. If Sally has been lying to us, I’d rather be the one to discover it.”

  He gazed into Tori’s amazing green eyes. Weariness had to stalk her, but she didn’t show it. “Who takes care of you?”

  She gave him a flirty half twist of her head. “Have you been talking to my mother?”

  “No. Is she as gorgeous and smart as you?”

  “More so.” She shook her head. “Mom’s a cancer survivor. She’s brave and not afraid to tackle a challenge.”

  “Like mother, like daughter.”

  “I’ve been told that before, which is why we often disagree.”

  Who is looking out for the hurt in your eyes? Who eases your worry of cancer? “I have a game for us.”

  “I hate to lose.” She took a sip of coffee.

  “No losers in this. Fear time. I give you my biggest all-time nightmare situation, and then you give me yours.”

  She gave him a sideways glance.

  “We play until our food gets here, then we talk case. I’ll go first.”

  She waved at him to begin.

  A twinge of do-you-really-want-to-dig-deep? hit him. Except turning back had coward branded on it. “Mine is a repeat of what happened leading up to my resignation from the US Marshals. Part of it you know. I was transporting a key witness in a case where a cartel leader had been charged with three counts of murder.” He sighed. “I made the arrest. On the way to trial, a car cut off the armed car behind me. An SUV slammed into the side of my vehicle and spun us around. Doors opened and masked shooters came out firing. They killed the man I was transporting, another Marshal, and shot me in the stomach, narrowly missing vital organs. I remember lying there in the street and watching my own blood pour from my body.” He moistened his lips. “And I was afraid of dying alone.”

  Her face shone warm with compassion. “What a nasty nightmare.”

  Should he tell her his faith made the flashbacks easier to bear? Not yet because she’d run. “Your turn.”

  She glanced to the kitchen, where a server would emerge with their food.

  “Hey, I spilled my guts.”

  “All right.” She took a drink of water. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. My dad left us when I was two. Disappeared in
to the unknown, and I’ve never tried to find him. My brother, Kevin, took care of me while Mom worked to support us. After I graduated from college, Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. When she’s three years out cancer-free, my brother is diagnosed with the big C. He never hit the remission stage. Now I’m afraid. Afraid . . .”

  “Someone else you love will contract cancer.”

  “Yes.” Visible emotion swept over her face. “A little fearful for myself too.”

  Max had told him about her phobia, but for her to admit it was incredible. “You’re brave.”

  She blinked. “We’re playing a game.”

  “I’d like to make a deal. When I wake up in a cold sweat because I’m bleeding out on a street with no one around, I want to know I can call you.”

  “Of course. We’re friends, and I want to help.”

  “The deal works both ways. When you’re afraid cancer is about to strike a friend or yourself, you contact me.”

  Her eyebrows narrowed. “Why?”

  He opened his arms. “To help each other. Be better people. Everyone creates what he fears.”

  “Are you always philosophical?”

  “You bring out the best in me.”

  The server placed their food platters before them. He bowed his head and silently thanked God for the meal. He dug into his omelet without looking at her.

  “Your request may not be possible after we’re finished with the task force,” she said. “We’ll both have new cases.”

  “So we’ll work on it until then.” He pointed to her French toast. “I’m regretting what I ordered.”

  She used her hand to cover her plate. “I don’t share my food.”

  He gave his best little-boy hurt look. “I’ll share mine.”

  “Nope. Sorry. Another topic, please.”

  He’d brought up the fear thing, and now he’d keep his word by discussing the case. “I searched way into the night for information about Nathan opening another office in London. I found he’d signed a lease on a flat and opened a bank account for himself and Moore Oil & Gas. He rented an office and hired staff.”

  “We have agents on the ground who can run down details. It doesn’t mean he’d decided on a permanent move.”