Rules of Engagement (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 11)

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Rules of Engagement (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 11) Page 8

by Camilla Chafer


  "That's the only place I can think of, so, yes, but I don't think he'd ever get an email saying ‘Hey, how about that five hundred mill?.’ Check into that angle while you look for any other threats that might have been made to him. Delgado?" I asked, turning to him. "What about your history with Solomon?"

  "Not much to tell. We're old friends. We met when we were in the Army. Solomon rose through the ranks and became a major by the time he left. I was just a captain."

  "He was a major!" I gasped. "I didn't know that."

  "He was probably cowed by your own illustrious Army career," said Delgado as he winked.

  "Hah-hah." I laughed at his teasing. My career in the Army had been the very opposite of illustrious. In an impulsive move, I joined the Army as my ticket out of town after finding my ex-fiancé cheating with my former sister-in-law. All I wanted to do was get as far away as possible but I'd only made it a few weeks into boot camp when it was not-so-politely suggested that the Army and I weren't compatible in the short term, never mind the long term. I still kept in touch with a few people from back then and none of them ever regretted my leaving.

  "Did you serve in the same division?" I asked Delgado.

  "Yeah, for a while. We were in a war zone a long time back and things were... it was rough," he said, his eyes glazing over as he spoke. "Bad things happened over there. People got a little crazy. Some people became corrupt. There were rumors that financial aid wasn't making it to the right people. Some guys from our unit got implicated in a plan to steal a hundred million dollars. Solomon caught them. There was a shoot-out and he saved my life and those of several other men."

  "What happened?"

  "We were told to observe and collect data on where the money was going. One of the crooked guys from our unit got wind of what we were doing and tipped off the others. Solomon had an idea of who was involved but not how many, and these guys went to move the money before they could load it up and send it back to the US. We exchanged fire and caught them. It went to military court and after that, I don't know. It all got hushed up and, I gotta be honest, I didn't want to know the outcome."

  "So that's another hundred million reasons why someone might want payback?" I asked.

  Delgado shook his head. "This was years and years ago."

  "But they might be out of jail now and looking for payback."

  "I'll make some inquiries, but I don't like doing them for that."

  "What happened after you got home?" I asked.

  "After our tour? Thankfully, that was the last deployment for me. Solomon left the unit a couple months later."

  "But not the Army?"

  "No. They wanted him somewhere else, but he never said where. Even though we were friends, he was always cagey about whoever he worked for. I think he was in some specialist unit. I know he left a year later."

  "That must have been when I met him," said Fletcher. "He joined the CIA directly after he left the Army. My boss recruited him and we..."

  "Hold on," I said, putting up my hand for him to stop. "Solomon was in the CIA?"

  "Yes. He was one of our best operatives. He worked financial and cyber crimes, amongst other things. You know I can't tell you anything about those cases but I can tell you that he definitely annoyed some very bad people."

  "I'm going to need their names," I told him.

  "I need to make some calls. Can you trust me to not give you the names, but still check into them?"

  "Do I have a choice?" I asked.

  "No," said Fletcher.

  "Then do it, but don't expect MPD not to push," I warned. “What can you tell me?”

  "You know I can't tell you much, but I can tell you that Solomon worked all over the world as well as from our bases on American soil. That’s a lot of ground to cover. It might take some time, but I'll call in any favors wherever I can. Solomon managed to create a lot of goodwill when he left the agency."

  "You worked with him until he left?"

  "No, but I saw him here and there. He left my division after a few years and I know he was working on something covert. I can't tell you about that because it was a mystery."

  "Do you know anything? How long this covert op was? Or where?"

  "I think six months but I don't know where. I know he got vaccinated around that time so it had to be somewhere exotic but I can't be more specific. I do know when I next saw him, Solomon was very unhappy. He said he didn't like what he was doing and he was thinking of leaving. I told him to follow his heart and he wouldn't make a wrong choice. He did leave and I know he freelanced a little while before he set up the agency. That was a few years ago."

  "Is that when you met him?" I asked, turning my attention to Flaherty.

  "Nah. I've known Solomon since before he joined the Army."

  "That long?"

  "That long," agreed Fletcher, a small smile on his face. "I met him when he was twenty-one or twenty-two and I was just promoted to detective in homicide. His parents were still alive then and he was thinking about what to do with his life. He'd just graduated from a university, a good one too, when his parents were killed, and he had to start raising his sister and brother. He was thinking about joining the police force before that. We got to be friends and I tried to look out for him."

  "How come he didn't join?"

  "I don't know. He would have made a good cop. I think he did something with computers that allowed him to stay with Anastasia and Damien. He looked after them, got them both into universities, made sure they led good lives despite losing their parents, and when they were ready to look after themselves, he joined the Army. When I got shot a few years ago and retired from the force, I didn't know what to do with myself. He asked me to join him here." Fletcher paused. "I've known Solomon a really long time, and some of the stuff about the CIA I didn't know until much later, but I can't say he's ever come to me about receiving any threats. The Solomon I know has a lot of people in his debt."

  "What about everyone else here?" I asked, looking around at the team that worked on this floor. "Do they all have some kind of background with Solomon?"

  "My guess is some of them do," said Lucas. "But you could take a look at their employee files."

  "I will," I agreed, wondering why I hadn't thought of that before. "Where are they?"

  "On the secure server. Only Solomon has the password," he said.

  "Break it," I said.

  "There's probably some files in his office too," said Delgado. "I think he keeps them in one of those filing cabinets."

  I checked my watch. I'd been away from the hospital for too long, and I had too much information to scour through. It was all starting to fuse together in my head. I needed a break and I needed to see Solomon. "I’ll check on my way out," I said.

  "Leave everything else with us," said Delgado.

  "Thank you. Make sure MPD have access to all the employees and I want a written report on everything they're told by the end of today. Have them emailed to me, please," I added. I got to my feet and waved to my brother. He came over promptly.

  "Ready to go?" he asked. "Or did you work something out?"

  "I'm ready to go. Can you take me back to the hospital? Delgado will help you with anything you need here."

  "What about running shifts?" asked Fletcher.

  "Do what you need to do here first," I replied, "and then decide who's coming over first."

  I took a few minutes to search Solomon’s offices for the files but found nothing. It didn’t surprise me that Solomon hadn’t kept hard copies available. Garrett and I drove quietly to the hospital and he parked directly out front but didn't get out.

  "What's up?" I asked.

  "I'm afraid this is going to be the biggest case my division has ever handled. All I'm getting from his employees is that Solomon has been everywhere, knows everyone, and has his fingers in many pies. Did you know all that about him?"

  "Some things are new to me," I admitted. The conversations ran around in my head and I wasn’t sure what to
make of all the new information.

  "You two are going to have one helluva conversation when he wakes up."

  I smiled. "I hope so."

  We walked into the hospital and through the doors, which beeped loudly. A security guard approached us and put his hand up, forcing us to stop. "Do you know why you set off security?" he asked.

  Garrett put a hand to his forehead. "That was me. I forgot to take off my gun." He produced his badge and put both it and the gun in the tray, then stepped through the metal detector again. "These new?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir. Have a nice day, Lieutenant."

  "The world's gone crazy when the hospitals need metal detectors," said Garrett. He tucked his gun into his waist holster and made for the elevator. As I pressed the call button, I realized my gun was still under my jacket. No one patted me down and no one made me go through the detectors again. I thought about pointing that out, but then decided not to.

  I stopped at the nurse's desk and inquired after Solomon. "He's stable and all his vitals are looking good," said a nurse I didn't recognize. "You can visit with his family briefly. I'm sure his wife will be glad of the support."

  I gulped and blinked. Did I hear that right? "His... his wife?" I stammered.

  What else didn't I know about my future husband?

  Chapter Eight

  I nodded to Officer Broderick as I paused at the door, my heart thumping. A woman in a red coat, with long, black hair had her back to me. If I found out she was his secret wife, I didn't know what I would do. Stay? Or turn and run very far away? Maybe I'd add her name to the suspect list. I slid open the door and stepped inside, bracing myself.

  Relief flooded me as the woman sitting at Solomon's bedside turned around. This was no mystery woman or secret wife! I would have known the tall, beautiful woman anywhere.

  "Anastasia!" I exclaimed. "You're here!"

  "Lexi!" Anastasia got to her feet and we met in the middle, hugging quickly. She released me and we both looked at Solomon. "The nurse said he hasn't woken up since the surgery," she said.

  "No," I said as we hooked arms. "He hasn't."

  "Your mom and dad went to get a hot drink. I think they wanted to give me a few minutes alone with my brother."

  "I'll go find them," said Garrett. He hovered in the doorway and raised a hand to Anastasia, half waving a greeting. "Nice to see you again, Anastasia."

  "You too, Garrett," she said, turning back to Solomon. "I've never seen him like this," she said softly. "He's never looked vulnerable before. What happened? I mean, I know what happened, but why? I don't understand."

  "That's what I'm trying to find out." I moved around the bed, waving away Anastasia's offer of her chair and pulled up the spare one on the other side. I sat and took hold of Solomon's hand, watching him carefully for any sign that he might awaken. Anastasia was right; he did look vulnerable. His eyes were closed, his face softer in sleep than I ever recalled. His chest rose and fell with the aid of a breathing tube. The bandage was new and I wondered who changed it and if the wound beneath it was healing. I didn't even know how many stitches he had.

  "You mean, you don't know why someone would shoot him?" Anastasia turned to me, looking appalled.

  "You do?" I asked.

  "No! I meant I thought you would already know, or that the police would have already found the shooter... or... or... You don't know who shot him, do you?" she finished, her shoulders slumping.

  "I'm sorry, I don't yet, but I have everyone at the agency working on it. We're gathering names and considering motives, and looking for witnesses, but it's a slow process. Garrett is overseeing the case at MPD and they're running ballistics on the gun and they also dusted the entire area. Everyone is doing everything they can."

  "Is there anything I can do?"

  "Did Solomon ever mention any threats?" I asked.

  "No, never, but I'm not sure that he would. He never wanted me to worry."

  "Did he mention anything recently? Anything that might sound strange now?"

  "We last spoke a couple weeks ago and he sent a text message to say hi a few days ago. I didn't reply because I was busy," she said, sniffing back a sob.

  "Solomon knew that," I told her, wishing I had some way of comforting her other than with platitudes. "He was, he is, really proud of you."

  "Thanks. Would you excuse me for a minute? I need to get some air," she said, her voice cracking.

  "Of course." I listened to Anastasia go out, first her footsteps then the sound of the glass door sliding shut, leaving Solomon and me alone.

  "You need to wake up," I told Solomon, my left hand over his, my engagement ring pointing up like a shiny beacon. "I love you, John, and I'll find out who did this, but you need to wake up."

  Solomon remained still, and the beeping from the monitors was strangely reassuring. He still fought for his life and for me, and that was almost enough.

  I slid my hands away and got up, walking over to the window. Solomon's room overlooked the front of the hospital. There was a lot of paving, interspersed with squares for trees and shrubs, and a drop off point for cars. I watched several people climbing out of taxis and making their way into the building. The day was overcast, gray clouds almost obliterating the blue sky. It would probably rain later and I'd forgotten to grab a jacket. I could probably send Garrett to pick it up but I didn't want to waste his time. For a few minutes, I watched the movements in the parking lot. Cars coming and going. People alighting from taxis. A nurse pushing a wheelchair. Someone locking their bike in the bike rack. A pair of doctors in white coats. Everything looked so normal. I wondered how many lives would be saved here today and how many people waited, like I did, for news.

  My cellphone began to vibrate. "Hi, Lucas," I said as I continued to stare outside.

  "I got the camera footage you wanted," he began. "There was a dark blue motorcycle picked up at the traffic lights two blocks from your house just a couple minutes after... you know."

  "Go on."

  "The plate is partially blacked out but I ran it through a program and got a hit for the registration. It's not good news. The motorcycle was stolen two days ago."

  "A stolen motorcycle on my street at that time sounds like it had to be involved."

  "That's what I thought," said Lucas. "I'm following the trail but it's going to take me a few more hours."

  "Do MPD know?"

  "Not yet."

  "Pass on the information discreetly. It would be helpful if they put out a BOLO. Any other news?"

  "I'm working on the names from the list. Twenty are dead."

  "So, we're down to seventy-seven names?" I asked.

  "Uh, not exactly."

  "What's not exactly about dead people?"

  "I figured someone might want revenge on the dead person’s behalf."

  I groaned. It was entirely possible Lucas was correct, but it would be impossible to check every single family member and friend associated with a person who might have been wronged, or felt they were. It wouldn't even be possible to track down everyone associated with the dead people. "There’s a chance someone might, but it doesn't sound right. Shooting a man at close range seems very personal, not to mention the risk involved in attacking someone like Solomon. I think it's got to be more personal. Put those names aside and work on the rest."

  "Done. Any news?"

  I didn't have to ask what news Lucas meant. "No change," I told him. "Did you get into the secure server? I checked the filing cabinet and couldn't find any employee files."

  "Figures. He might not want information like that to be unsecured. I'm running a program for the password."

  I hung up and stared at my phone for a moment. I had Solomon's phone in my bag, along with his laptop. If I could work out his password, I could search for any information pertinent to the case. Despite my career, which revolved around nosiness, snooping into Solomon's personal things wasn't my thing. I'd never had any need to prowl through Solomon's private accounts before. He never
made me feel suspicious or worried about our relationship and I never even once thought he was up to anything that would hurt me, but this was different. This wasn't about my feelings, it was about what he might have kept from me, or perhaps didn't even think of as a valid threat.

  Before I could reach for the phone, the door slid open. "Hey," said Anastasia, stepping into the room with my parents and Garrett immediately behind her. The small room was suddenly full as they huddled in. "I brought you a tea," she said, passing me a cup. "It's from the vending machine but they taste okay."

  Mom moved to my side. "Did you get everything you needed from home?" she asked.

  "Yes, for now."

  "I'm going to make up your old room," she said. "You don't have to go back to your house, if you don't want to."

  "I think I'll stay here," I said. What if something happened to Solomon and I wasn’t here? I had to stay.

  "That's fine by us," Mom said, glancing to Dad, who nodded. Normally, my mother was a lot less ready to agree so it had to be a sign of how worried she was that she didn't argue. "All you have to do is call us and we'll pick you up. Do you want us to stay longer?" she asked.

  "No, that's okay. I know you've been here all night, plus, Anastasia and I will keep each other company and Damien said he's on his way."

  Anastasia's head shot up. "You spoke to Damien?"

  I nodded. "This morning. He said he'd come."

  "I tried to call him from the airport and he didn't answer. He didn't reply to my text messages either."

  "He's probably traveling," I suggested.

  "Did he say where from?"

  "Boston."

  "Boston? What is he doing there?"

  "He said he took a job there,” I said as Anastasia’s face filled with surprise. “He also said that he would get here as fast as he could."

  "I have to take off too," said Garrett. "I'm needed at MPD."

  "Has there been any new development?" I asked quickly.

  "Nothing special to report, but I want to be there in case something does come up. I can tell you that I just got a call from my guys. They looked into the motorcycle, which was reported stolen, so I think the rider had to be involved. It makes sense. Helmet covers most of the face, which is a great disguise. The motorcycle makes for a fast getaway. It's untraceable and easy to ditch."

 

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