She couldn’t. Not unless she’d walked the same path.
Which she clearly hadn’t.
“Well.” Breathlessness highlighted Ebony’s words and she pulled in a deep breath. Steady. Steady. “What awful place did Jax take you from?”
And why the heck would she want to go back to it?
Better not to ask that question. Not yet, anyway.
“No awful place. I had a job. Friends. A good church. I was living life and he took me away from it.” Wendy’s body shook and she reached a tremulous hand to rub at her eyes. “I don’t know why.”
“There must’ve been something. Jax always rescues people.”
“He didn’t rescue me. Or Oliver. Or Susan. He stole us from our lives and the people who care about us.”
Lies! “No. Jax chose you for a reason.”
“If you find out what it is, please let me know. I wasn’t being abused, or mistreated. I wasn’t miserable or starving. I was doing okay.”
She didn’t have to stand here and listen to Wendy lie to her. “Fine. You want to keep your secret, go ahead. I thought maybe we could be friends.”
Wendy straightened, swinging her stockinged feet to the floor. “I’d like to be friends. I feel like we both need one.”
Friends.
Jax had done so much for her, but she was really lonely.
“I do have a small favor to ask.” Wendy approached the bars slowly, as if worried she might scare Ebony away.
Like she’d scare that easily. After all she’d been through, she certainly wasn’t afraid of a soft touch like Wendy.
“Could you bring me a Bible?”
A Bible?
She’d been prepared for Wendy to ask for special privileges, to be able to see the rest of this place in which they lived. Or maybe make a special meal request. But a Bible? “Why would you want that? You have plenty to read.”
Ebony thrust her finger toward the stacks of books by the wall but Wendy didn’t look.
Instead, Wendy shook her head. “And I appreciate those. But a Bible is different than any of those books. It’s God speaking to me.”
God speaking? Through a dusty old book?
What kind of weirdo had Jax brought into their sanctuary?
“Did you ask Jax?”
The question seemed to deflate Wendy. “I did. He said I didn’t need something so irrelevant.”
“Well, there you go.” If Jax said it wasn’t necessary, who was she to question?
“Please.” Wendy seemed to struggle to find words. “I used to read it every day and now… I miss it.”
Would giving her a Bible really be so bad? It was nothing more than a dusty old book, after all. “We’ll see.”
“Thank you.”
Ebony turned and retraced her steps down the hallway, ignoring Oliver as she passed his cell.
A Bible.
If she could make Wendy happy, maybe Wendy would accept her place here.
Although if Jax had already said no, she’d have to either go behind his back or get him to change his mind.
Neither of which seemed like great options.
But it might help Wendy adapt to her new life here. If it did, wasn’t it worth the risk?
Ten
Lukewarm pizza and chilled wine. Not exactly the best pairing, but it’d do.
Kevyn swirled the merlot in her wine glass, inhaling the aroma before sipping the beverage. Mmm. One of the best things about moving to Washington was the wide variety of wines available.
Maybe next summer, after she’d been on the job for a while and had gotten her house whipped into shape, she’d use some vacation time to tour some of the wineries.
Rumor had it the central part of the state was the heart of Washington Wine Country.
She took a bite of pizza and grimaced. Ugh. She should’ve cleared her palate before eating.
While she chewed the bite, she glanced around the kitchen.
It was getting late, but maybe she could remove a few cabinets tonight. She was wound pretty tightly and could use the release.
Not to mention that she started undercover at the department store tomorrow, so her free time was going to pretty much disappear.
She took another bite, her thoughts moving to the preliminary coroner’s report they’d received right at six p.m. Cause of death was still undetermined, but the medical examiner had found a puncture mark on the victim’s neck.
Poison? Maybe, but a sedative was more likely. With the victim’s potentially high blood alcohol level, a negative drug interaction was always a possibility.
Unfortunately, they had to wait for toxicology to confirm any of that.
She rinsed the pizza crumbs off the plate and dropped the plate in the dishwasher.
Time to get to work. It was after eight, but it wouldn’t take long to pull out a few of these cabinets.
Especially since she’d already ripped out the ugly laminate countertop.
She’d finished removing the first one when her phone rang.
That ringtone… she knew who it was, even before she looked at the caller ID. Mason.
She should let it go to voicemail. What part of a clean break-up was so hard for him to understand?
If she hadn’t broken her own rules about inter-office romances, none of this would have happened.
In spite of her better judgment, she accepted the call. “Hey Mason.”
“Hey yourself.” His deep, rich voice carried across the line. “How’s Seattle?”
“Good.” She refrained from saying any more, even though as a fellow agent, he’d be one of the few who understood the struggles of the job.
“Only good? So, you ready to come back home?” In spite of the teasing tone, she knew he was serious.
“I am home.” Not that it looked like much right now.
“Come on, Kev. We were good together. If you weren’t so stubborn, maybe you’d see that.”
Good? Is that what he called the almost obsessive protective focus he’d buried her under the last month they’d been together? “We both need someone outside of law enforcement, Mason. You know it and I know it.”
“Maybe I should come visit you? Refresh your memory on how things were between us? I’ve got some vacation time coming.”
“Don’t. If you come, you’ll spend your time here alone.” She hated to be so harsh, but it seemed to be the only way to get through to him.
The silence, weighted and oppressive, clearly indicated his displeasure with her response.
She sighed. “Look, I need to go. I’ve got things to do before calling it a night.”
“Fine. Your loss.”
So he’d told her. Multiple times.
She terminated the call and set the phone aside, then turned back to the cabinets.
If she didn’t want to save them, she’d love to go at them with a sledgehammer right now. But cabinets were expensive and these were good, solid wood cabinets. She’d be a fool to destroy them.
She removed the next three cabinets, stopping only when she reached the sink. After hauling them to the unattached garage behind the house, she put away her tools and headed upstairs.
Tomorrow she’d begin working undercover at Nobles.
And hopefully begin drawing their unsub out of hiding.
₪ ₪ ₪
Karen Thompson.
Dak skimmed through the profile once again. As always, their data analysts had done great work. This should be good enough to fool their unsub.
The idea of sending one of his agents in undercover still didn’t sit right with him.
God, I trust that you’ve got this.
Maybe if he repeated the prayer enough, he’d begin to feel the assurance he knew he should have.
At least Kevyn was uniquely qualified to handle this assignment. From what he’d seen so far, she read people and anticipated things better than any of them. If anyone could spot the unsub, it might be her.
He looked up as she strode into the office a
nd deposited her purse on her desk.
Whoa.
She’d curled her hair and clipped part of it back in a hairpiece that sparkled under the florescent lights. Makeup gave her cheekbones a heightened appearance and brought out the green in her eyes. A floral print dress hugged her waist and flared at her hips, the hem hitting a few inches above her knees to reveal toned, shapely legs.
If she didn’t grab the unsub’s attention, he didn’t know what would.
Pull it together, man.
The mental command worked. He blinked, then smiled as she turned to face him. “I take it your car’s running fine?”
Her high-heeled shoes clicked across the tile as she crossed to take the chair opposite his desk. “Better than it has in years. Set me back a few hundred, but I guess that’s life.”
“Unfortunately.”
A hint of vanilla drifted to him as she sat. He didn’t remember her wearing perfume before.
Focus.
Time to get down to business. Vivian was expecting Kevyn at ten sharp, which gave them about an hour and a half to review Kevyn’s profile before she needed to leave. “Here’s the profile they created for you. I think they followed all of your recommendations, but look it over and be sure you know it.”
He didn’t need to tell her that one small slip could blow the whole thing.
Best case scenario.
Worst case? It could end her life.
“Twenty-four years old, born in New York, raised in Australia… yes, it looks like they got it.”
Something about the cover held a ring of truth to it. “So how much of that cover actually reflects your story?”
She glanced up at him. “About half. I was actually born in Miami and didn’t return to the US to find my father. Oh, and I’m not exactly twenty-four, but our guy seems to be targeting the early twenty-somethings so we had to stretch that one a bit.”
And she could pass for that age. “The best covers have a hint of truth mixed in. Just curious.”
She pushed up from her chair. “I’m across this.”
Across it? “Excuse me?”
She grinned. “Sorry, slipping into old habits. Means I’ve got it.”
“Good. Let me know if you see any issues.” Not that the analysts would be thrilled with having to make changes, but Kevyn needed to be completely comfortable operating as Karen.
Failure could have dire consequences.
₪ ₪ ₪
Dak watched as a large fishing boat chugged through the turbulent slate waters of the Puget Sound. The lobby of Trane Imports and Exports afforded visitors a panoramic view of the Sound and the nautical traffic traveling it.
A definite bonus when you had to wait for someone.
“Agent Lakes?”
Dak turned from the window as the executive assistant’s voice carried across the room.
The trim woman, with short gray hair and glasses, motioned for him to follow her. “Mr. Trane will see you now. His office is upstairs.”
Shortening his strides, he fell into step beside her.
“Thank you, Ms…”
“Call me Verna.” Sharp eyes cut his direction.
“Thank you, Verna. I appreciate your assistance.” They stepped into an ancient elevator and Verna pushed a button. “Have you worked for Mr. Trane long?”
She offered a crisp nod. “And his father Jeff before him, God rest his soul.”
“How long has it been since he passed?” Why he asked, he wasn’t sure, but something about the way she said it made it seem like the passing had been recent.
“Oh dear. About six months ago, it was. So hard on J.J.” She shook her head, clucking slightly. “Jeff was not an easy man. Made it very difficult on poor J.J. Especially after his mother died.”
There was a story here. He could sense it. “What happened to his mother?”
“Suicide. Been about twenty years now, but she slit her wrists in the bathtub in that big ole mansion of theirs. J.J. found her.” She clucked again. “Poor boy. He was only ten.”
What did something like that do to a kid? “That’s awful.”
The door slid open and she stepped out of the elevator, but didn’t move any further. Dropping her voice, she kept going, “Oh, it gets even worse. Jeff withdrew. Spent all his time here when J.J. needed him. Sure, J.J. got counseling, but what he needed was a family. His father. Jeff wasn’t capable of being there for him.”
A sigh deflated her. “Listen to me. Speaking ill of the dead. But J.J. was such a sweet boy. He wanted someone to love him. A family.”
“Well, he seems to have turned out okay.” Dak gestured to the plush carpet beneath their feet and the sweeping views of the Puget Sound outside the wall-to-wall windows. “He’s running this place, isn’t he?”
“That he is. If there’s one thing his father did right, it was teach him to run the company.” She started moving down the hallway. “Right this way. I’ve said too much as it is.”
Whether or not any of it was relevant, it was good to have additional information on the man he was about to question.
The hallway opened up into a small sitting area, with a closed walnut colored door on the opposite side. Verna approached the door, tapped twice, then pushed the door open. “Mr. Trane, Agent Lakes is here to speak with you.”
“Thank you, Verna.” Trane gracefully rose from behind a massive mahogany desk, smoothing his slim-fitting button-down shirt over his trim core. “Agent Lakes, I’m always happy to do what I can to help our brave members of law enforcement. Please, come in and make yourself at home.”
What the heck? Dak studied the man, trying to gauge his authenticity. He seemed genuine, but who talked like that?
Maybe a boy who’d found his mother’s body at ten years old?
Dak shook the offered hand, noting the firm handshake and smooth skin. Trane stood several inches shorter than he did, probably an inch or two under six foot, but the way his shoulders and arms filled out his shirt evidenced that he wasn’t a complete lightweight.
As they both took their seats, he casually assessed Trane. Short blond hair covered his head in curls, bright blue eyes watched him dispassionately, and a strong jawline gave him a bold and polished appearance. A highly confident, perhaps slightly arrogant, vibe radiated off Trane like the aftershave scent that filled the office.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about the body found on your dock.”
Trane shook his head slowly. “Of course. Such a tragic thing.”
“Does the name Paula Lennox mean anything to you?”
“I know she’s the woman who was killed last night but aside from that, no. Should it?” Trane’s blue eyes never left him.
“Not necessarily, but I have to ask.” Dak paused for effect. “She was left on your dock.”
“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, that dock is not exactly secured. Anyone could have left her there.” Trane’s tone was mild, his expression unconcerned. “Besides, we share that dock with the fish processing plant across the way.”
Dak dipped his head. “And I have a team speaking with them also.”
“I know Jimmy Mays, the owner of that plant. Our families have been friends for years. I’m sure you’ll find that our dock was an easy and convenient location for someone to use for evil purposes. Nothing more.”
Trane seemed sincere, but liars could be very convincing. “Do you have security cameras that see any part of the dock?”
“No. But I already have a call in to our security company to install a camera out there. This won’t happen again.”
“Are any of your workers unaccounted for today? Anyone out sick or anyone who didn’t show up? Or anyone acting strangely?”
Trane interlaced his fingers on his desk. “I don’t get terribly involved in employee relations. I spend most of my time negotiating contracts and arranging transports. But you’re welcome to speak with my foreman. He should be able to help.”
Exactly what Dak had hoped to hear. “I’ll take you u
p on that offer.”
“Perfect. Let me page him up here for you.”
₪ ₪ ₪
Another security guard.
Coincidence? Or were they watching her?
Vivian had looped the security manager in on the plan. Kevyn wasn’t thrilled with that, but the decision hadn’t been hers.
Might not be a bad idea to have eyes in the sky keeping a watch on her, though.
She’d hoped that the security manager wouldn’t tell the rest of his team, just in case one of them was in on it, but so far she’d identified two male guards and one female guard. All in the six hours she’d been on the job.
Maybe they were wandering the store, not watching her specifically.
Kevyn smiled at a little silver-haired lady, but was very aware of the slightly shaggy twenty-something guy in skinny jeans walking casually down the aisle.
To most, he looked like any other shopper, but she knew the signs. The earpiece, barely visible beneath that mop of hair, not to mention the small pack clipped to his pocket, identified him as a member of Nobles’ plainclothes security team.
Vivian had given her a job of putting out merchandise and assisting customers on the floor, effectively bypassing any sort of register or computer training.
The arrangement worked great.
It was hard to keep watch on the people around her when she was focused on ringing things up and processing payments.
So far, she’d identified three coworkers who warranted the team’s attention.
She’d also fielded two customers who were more interested than they should be, one of whom had asked her out for dinner.
To maximize her exposure, she’d even taken her lunch break up at the café. Whether or not it had done any good, she wasn’t sure. No one had approached her while she ate, but that didn’t mean someone hadn’t taken notice.
“Do you have this one in a D cup?” A scowling redhead wearing a revealing v-neck shoved a lacy teal bra in Kevyn’s face.
Kevyn forced a smile, in spite of the woman’s rude and dismissive tone. “I’ll check.”
After a brief trip to the stockroom, she passed the requested size to the woman, who took it without a word.
Nameless (Sinister Secrets Book 1) Page 12