“No. No, you have to be wrong. This stuff doesn’t happen in real life. It just doesn’t.” She slashed her hand through the air.
“It’s a huge mess that’s going to come out. And the company needs someone to blame, so the shit doesn’t land on them. In the beginning they aren’t going to care who they point fingers at in the media, so long as it’s not them.”
“No. No, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” She closed her eyes.
In her mind she could see that play out. The cops would say they believed the crash was linked to drugs. Her picture would be splashed about. Asclepius wouldn’t have to blame her; they could just say they were looking into it. She would be a person of interest.
The damage would be done.
What were her other options? How did she combat this? Could she?
“What do I do?” Priscilla turned her head and met Brenden’s gaze.
She’d been the master of her path since the day she was given a new lease on life. She was often self-reliant to a fault. And now she was trusting him, asking for help at what might be her darkest hour ever. Her job, the work she did, that sustained her. To have that taken away would take away everything she knew about herself.
This time his answer was immediate. “Follow Zain’s plan. We stay here, in full view of the cops. We cooperate. Monday we go to Asclepius—with a lawyer—and tell them your story.”
“They’re going to want someone to blame. If not me, who?”
Brenden shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“It’s either a lot of people with crucial jobs, or someone who has a lot of power. Someone higher up.” She turned and began pacing. “Who owned that warehouse? Do we know that?”
“DDM something.”
“DDM, one of Asclepius’ subsidiaries. They used to be a failing company. Diversified into both production, where they started, and running pharmacies selling their drugs. Asclepius bought the company on the owner’s death bed. It was a really sad story.”
“You think it could be a DDM scam?”
“No.” She grimaced and blew out a breath, the lead dying. “No, whoever is behind this needs broader control. Those boxes weren’t DDM product, which means someone who has reach across the companies is involved in getting that product in place to go to the incinerator. But someone along the line pilfers boxes, maybe whole shipments, to resell.”
“Brazil isn’t exactly a third world country. Wouldn’t someone notice?”
“Yeah.” She rolled that problem around in her head. “The boxes have expiration dates on them. How does it work?”
Brenden shrugged. “Not sure.”
“What do we do with these ideas? How does this help me?”
“We tell Zain.”
“This isn’t what you guys do though.”
“You’d be surprised what we do.”
She knew how he meant the statement, and yet her mind went back to last night. The way he’d looked at her, how it had felt being with him.
He’d surprised her. From the moment they dragged him into her life, she’d read him all wrong.
“Guys!” Melody pounded on the door.
Priscilla jumped, startled out of her warm, fuzzy thoughts.
“Come in here,” Melody called out.
Brenden opened the door on a wide-eyed Melody.
“What?” Priscilla crowded up behind Brenden.
“Zain thinks he found something. Come see.”
Brenden ushered her out ahead of him. They followed Melody to the kitchen table where the others were still sitting, sipping coffee.
“Tell them,” Melody said.
Zain’s face was still on the laptop. He was looking away from the camera, his hands moving while he spoke. “Early this morning police in El Paso picked up the body of a junky. I started monitoring morgues and hospitals the best I could in the major cities around where you crashed. The ME just listed a Victoria Barnes as deceased.”
The screen flashed to an image of a woman who favored too much eyeliner and a kiss-my-ass attitude. “She’s a former sniper, dishonorably discharged, and was recently a suspect in a case down in Columbia along with this character.”
Once more the screen changed. A dark eyed man with tousled hair was captured walking down a street, facing a camera. “Damian Naraujo, who lives in El Paso. Naraujo on the surface is just a computer consultant, but we know of him because of his work in South America. He’s a mercenary, people or companies hire him to take out competitors in emerging markets. Mostly tech, but he’ll do anything for anyone at the right price.”
“And you think he’s related all because of a dead body?” Priscilla wasn’t sure she bought that. It was a leap. A big one.
“I think I saw that guy.” Nolan frowned at the screen.
“It was dark. How can you be sure?” Priscilla asked.
Nolan shrugged.
Zain’s face came “Look, all of this is a stretch, but so far it’s our best lead. There was some chatter linking Victoria to Damian. I’m working on it.”
“Priscilla had some other ideas,” Brenden said.
“Yeah?” Zain’s gaze snapped to the camera.
“Just...” She licked her lips and tried again. “Whoever is doing this inside Asclepius has to either be high up, or it has to be a lot of people. The kind of clearance it takes to move product on that scale would take someone way up the ladder.”
Zain nodded. “Any idea what level we’re talking about?”
“Someone way, way up. Someone who has operational control across the subsidiaries. I don’t know how to find that out without going into the office.”
“We’ll work on that angle, too.”
“Why?” Priscilla asked.
Zain stopped doing whatever it was he was doing on his side of the camera and looked at her for a moment. “Because you’re innocent and this is the right thing to do.”
A phone began to chime.
“Sorry about that.” The blond man, Nolan, silenced the phone then reached into his pocket for a crumpled box.
Zain continued. “Hang tight, team—”
“Let me see that.” Priscilla rounded the table, her gaze locked on the red and white box.
Nolan held what was left of the box up. “This?”
She took the familiar package from him and turned it over. “Brenden?”
“Hold on, Zain.” Brenden came to stand behind her.
Priscilla would have recognized the branding anywhere. She was very familiar with all the various lines that Asclepius marketed, but the red and white one was very eye catching. She turned the box over to the narrow side where the lot and expiration information should be visible. Instead a sticker was glued along the side, proclaiming it a product of Asclepius.
“Where did you get this?” Priscilla glanced up at Nolan.
“A clinic near the hotel. Why?”
“Because I am willing to bet money that this is one of the expired lots of medicine.”
The sticker explained why no one had reported it for obvious reasons. What was even scarier? Someone had sold it to Nolan over the counter somewhere.
How many more people were taking medication too old to do anything for them?
14.
SATURDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Brenden’s brain was mushy. Zain had come back to them with leads to explore. The whole day had turned into research, filling hours with internet searches, phone calls and making guesses.
They weren’t much closer to knowing more than they had. Sure, they had a pool of names a couple dozen long of suspects, but no real way to determine who their culprit was as long as they were stuck here. The digging they needed to do wasn’t the kind that could be done from a distance. And no one was willing to touch the issue of past date medications being sold or used in hospitals. There were limits to what Aegis Group could handle. This was something that needed to be turned over to the authorities.
What concerned Brenden was time. They w
ere running out of it.
“I’m turning in,” Nolan announced.
“Me, too.” Riley pushed to his feet.
“Have a good night, guys.” Vaughn shuffled his deck of cards, his attention on the TV and whatever current news sensation was unfolding.
Brenden glanced at the dining table. Priscilla and Melody sat facing each other on the far side. They were smiling, talking softly. If he had to guess, not about work. The two women had worked closely together over the day.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Vaughn chuckled as if he’d said something original and funny.
Brenden grit his teeth. He just wasn’t in the mood for the jokes lately. It wasn’t the guys, it was him.
“I’m going to try to sleep.” It was an excuse. He doubted he’d sleep two nights in a row, but he knew that no one on the team would stand between him and the attempt at rest.
“See you in a bit.” Vaughn riffle shuffled the worn cards and grinned.
Not likely.
The way Brenden’s mood was going he’d just lay in bed and stare at the ceiling.
He managed to not steal another look at the ladies before heading down the hall to the last door. He wasn’t even kidding himself about where he was sleeping, and truth be told, he was glad of it.
For this short amount of time, Priscilla was his.
Brenden flipped the lights on and did a quick check of the windows to ensure they were locked and hadn’t been tampered with. They’d enjoyed one, quiet day. That didn’t mean a threat wasn’t waiting and watching.
A small pile of clothes lay on the floor next to the bed. He stared at Priscilla’s discarded clothing from before their workout in the back yard. She’d kept pace with him. He’d liked the companionship. How easy it was with her.
He glanced at the nightstand and the necklace she’d worn for all of five minutes before taking off. It sat next to her water bottle, the one he’d gotten for her. The room was full of little bits of her. Things she’d unpacked or used, but hadn’t put away.
Many of these things he was seeing for the first time, and yet he knew them. Because he knew Priscilla. But that didn’t make sense. He could count on one hand the number of days he’d known about her. They were strangers. And yet they weren’t. It wasn’t just the similar experiences, either. There was more to it.
She was like an old friend he was reconnecting with. Neither of them needed to make excuses or explain themselves because they each understood.
And very soon she would be leaving his life forever.
That knowledge left him unsettled. He didn’t want her to be gone. But what did he have to offer her? What logical reason would he have to act on this feeling?
In his experience feelings lied. They were finicky things. And yet this connection with Priscilla wasn’t a feeling. She didn’t make him happy, sad, angry, frustrated. When it was just them he was content. At ease. She changed his state of being, not his emotions. Losing her felt like losing a leg off a chair. It would compromise his structural integrity to be without her.
But that didn’t make sense.
How could someone he’d known for four days be crucial?
The bedroom door opened. He stuffed the thoughts down deep and watched Priscilla enter the room, a notebook cradled to her chest.
“Hey, I didn’t realize you’d come in here. I just looked up, and you were gone.” She lifted a hand to hide a yawn.
Brenden remained where he was. He was still locked in those thoughts, confused about how this woman could be so familiar to him.
“I wasn’t sure about Melody when I met her, but I think I like her. She’s one of those quiet, dangerous smart types, isn’t she?” Priscilla set her notebook on the bed then crawled onto the mattress and sat cross legged in the middle.
“You both like to be under estimated.”
She snapped her fingers. “Yes. And here’s a crazy question, but are her and Grant a thing?”
“What?” That question caught him off guard. “No. No, they barely stand each other.”
“Seriously?”
“In the beginning when she was hired all of our briefings were a tense power struggle. It’s only in the last year they’ve figured out how to work together.”
Priscilla’s eyes narrowed. “Hm.”
“What makes you ask that?”
“I don’t know. I just got a vibe, like maybe they were together but on the job they act like they aren’t.”
“Aegis has no fraternizing policy. There isn’t a reason why they’d have to hide it if they were. But they aren’t.” It was the same lack of a policy that made his relationship with Priscilla above board.
“Okay, I’ll drop it.” Priscilla grabbed a pillow and held it to her chest.
A similar moment from his past rose to the forefront of his mind.
It’d been the summer after he’d graduated. The Navy was in his future. He’d taken a few weeks to do and go wherever. His sisters had peppered him with questions about who he’d been with, where he’d gone.
How many times had he tried doing something as simple as put his damn laundry away only to have both of them sitting on his bed pestering him?
“Hey.” Priscilla grasped his hand. She’d crawled toward him without him noticing. “Where’d you go just then?”
He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. How long had it been since he thought about his sisters like that?
They would like Priscilla.
The thought came to him as certain as the existence of gravity. No second guessing or wavering.
How did he know that?
He did his best to not speak to or about his siblings.
“Brenden?”
He sucked in a breath and looked at Priscilla.
“I just had this random thought that my sisters would like you. I don’t think about them often.”
She tugged his hand until he sat on her side of the mattress. “Lie down with me and tell me about them?”
Normally he would say no, but he found that he wanted to talk about them.
Brenden undid the laces on his boots then crawled up to lie next to Priscilla, face to face. Her hand clasped around his and she curled her other arm under her head.
“What are their names?” she asked.
“Oaklynn and Gabrielle.”
“Really?” She chuckled. “How’d you get to be Brenden?”
“Dad named me.”
“What are your sisters like?”
“Oaklynn married a forensic accountant. She studied art in college for a few semesters before getting married. She’s a stay at home mom now. Just had another baby.” Just? More like months ago. He’d seen the social media posts of their picture perfect lives and knew to stay far, far away from that.
“Oaklynn. Sounds like a super trendy name.”
“Trendy. That’s a good word for her. All the pictures she posts look like they came out of a magazine.”
“Show me?”
Brenden pulled his phone out of his pocket and brought up his sister’s account.
“Oh my God. You aren’t kidding. Shit.” Priscilla rolled to her back and scrolled through the pictures.
“Gabrielle is the baby. She’s more serious. Finished college. Went into law. She’s dated the same guy since high school. They had a kid two years ago.”
“These are the most photogenic babies I have ever seen.” Priscilla’s eyes went wide, and she turned the phone toward him. “Is that you?”
Brenden squinted at the screen.
The image was old, a little blurry and overexposed, but there was no mistaking it. He knew the moment, could see it playing out in his mind.
It’d been spring break. He was a junior in high school. Gabriella had struggled the whole year with bullies. He’d gone out to find her sitting on the porch. They’d talked, he’d given her advice. He’d known she was close to tears, and that was when Oaklynn burst onto the scene with an old Polaroid camera. She’d flopped across their laps and
taken this crazy picture, her head upside down and both Gabrielle and Brenden staring at the camera in confusion.
He took the phone from Priscilla and read the caption.
Throwback Thursday, thinking about the people I love the most.
The unread emails, unreturned phone calls, the invitations to birthdays and holidays he’d tossed in the garbage came to the forefront of his mind. He’d removed himself from their lives because at the time he’d needed to. He hadn’t known how to be whole and himself. Oaklynn’s first baby had just arrived and deep down Brenden had worried about what would happen, what he’d do.
So he’d left. Started this new life. But the old one still wanted him.
“When’s the last time you saw them?” Priscilla asked softly.
“Maybe two years ago?” He slid the phone under the pillow then draped the arm over her waist.
Right now he needed Priscilla to anchor him.
“Any special occasion?” she asked.
“Christmas. I came home for Christmas. It was the first one I’d been to in a while. Mom knew I was coming, but she didn’t tell anyone else. I thought she had, so I walk into chaos. Then Oaklynn starts screaming, which startled her kid into crying.”
Priscilla smothered a laugh, but he kept going.
There wasn’t anything momentous that happened that night, just a lot of overwhelming family. The kids. All the talk about what everyone was doing. His favorite moment elbows deep in the sink, washing dishes with his mother. It was normal stuff he missed most, and now that he’d begun talking he couldn’t stop.
He’d spent so long with that door shut that he’d forgotten the void family filled.
SATURDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Damian stared at the front of the house. Nothing had moved or changed in the hour they’d been sitting there.
Arturo fucking Lobo.
The dick.
The last job Damian had done for the guy, eliminating some competition. Should have been routine, but it hadn’t. Things didn’t go as planned and the job only got half completed. Arturo hadn’t fulfilled his payment citing, half a job half the money. Except Damian’s people expected full pay, so he’d essentially made nothing on the job once costs were covered.
Dangerously Broken (Aegis Group Lepta Team Book 4) Page 16