“Someone has to step in when you’re being irrational. I’m not going to stand by and watch you get yourself abducted or killed. Then I’d be the crazy one.”
“I am not crazy,” she snapped.
“Then what’s your problem?”
Rita sucked air. “What is your problem?” She gripped the armrests of her chair, betrayal constricting her chest. This wasn’t about her. “My brother is lying helpless and unconscious in a hospital room, and you want me to sit around and cross my fingers and hope the guy who put him there won’t decide to walk in and kill him in his sleep? Why would I risk that when I could just do what he asked?”
Cole’s chest expanded and fell in deep blasts.
“Ooo-kay.” West rubbed his face with both palms. “Let’s stay focused on the files for now. We can always get a replica pen, if it comes to that.”
Cole swore. Loudly.
West plugged ahead, looking somewhat grayer than when Rita had met him only days before. “I need some help reviewing all these papers.” He handed a thick stack to Rita from the mess on his desk. “You’ve been at the treasurer’s office for a while now. I’m guessing you’re familiar with most of these forms. I need to know who this data would be relevant to. Better yet, who does it incriminate? Who would go to such lengths to get their hands on it? So far it just looks like a bunch of bank statements and purchase offers.”
Rita scooted back in her seat and crossed her legs. “If I help with this, will you let me make the drop with a fake pen?”
“Yes.”
Cole grunted.
“With conditions,” West added. “You’re not going alone. My men will be there, in plainclothes. We’ll cover the perimeter and set up takedown points throughout the park. And I’m positioning a sharpshooter on the museum roof as an added precaution.” He handed Cole a sketch of what he’d described, apparently having decided on the details before Rita and Cole’s arrival.
Cole looked at the drawing with profound sadness. He didn’t speak.
Rita turned her eyes to the papers on her lap and went to work making sense of the documents. “These bank transfers go back a number of years.”
Three days of fear and frustration fizzled and fled as her mind took hold of the familiar forms. “Wow. This is a three-million-dollar offer to buy the docks from the state.” She fed the paper back onto West’s desk. “Minsk must’ve been negotiating the purchase with the governor. I’ll bet that was what had him at the municipal building so often. Is the governor in town for some reason? Or is there a liaison of some kind in Shadow Point? I’m not sure how our state government works.”
“I’ll make some calls,” West said, “see what I can find out.”
Cole paced the area beside his brother’s desk. “That’s going to be a problem. Politicians are practically off-limits to us. They have the power to squash an investigation before it has a chance to grow legs. They’re slippery, too. Hard to get face time with them. Hard to get a straight answer, even if you do get an interview with the governor. This close to election day, we’d be wise to step extra-carefully.”
West steepled his fingers. “If this is even remotely related to the governor, it would explain why the shooter has been so hard to nail down.”
“Could be a professional.” Cole finished his brother’s thought with a solemn nod.
Rita struggled not to swallow her tongue. “A professional what? Hit man? There’s a hit man after my brother and me?”
“We’re going to have to tread lightly,” Cole said, ignoring Rita’s rhetorical outburst. He gathered another stack of papers and pulled a chair up beside her. “We’ll have to work smart. Stay under the radar. Build our case before anyone catches wind of what we’re up to. The governor won’t want the media seeing our efforts to get to the bottom of this as an accusation against him.”
Rita relaxed a bit, thankful to see Cole had rejoined her team.
“Who are all these bank transfers going to?” Cole asked. “Who are they from? Can Tech trace the routing numbers back to an identity on either party?”
Rita reviewed the pages, front and back. “I still don’t understand why Minsk was killed. The buyer hired him to make the offers. He was the chosen liaison, so why would they want him dead?”
Cole stretched his legs out and winced. “Same thing can be said about the governor or whoever Minsk was meeting with. All the state had to do was decline or accept the offer. No grounds for murder.”
Rita read several more pages, her eyes catching on a repetitive set of initials. “The letters GL appear on a bunch of these papers. Do they mean anything to you?”
“GL,” Cole repeated. “Can I see it?”
He took the stack from her hands and leafed through them. “The blueprints on the boat were property of Gray Line Enterprises. Maybe that’s the company that hired Minsk.”
West typed something on his keyboard. “Gray Line Enterprises is a commercial development cooperative. They own docks in several large cities throughout the country.”
“Louisiana, Ohio, Illinois and Missouri,” Cole said. “I saw the blueprints in Minsk’s office and on his boat.”
Rita raised her brows. “Nothing sinister about that. What do they do with the docks they buy?”
West was silent for several minutes as he typed.
Cole leaned in Rita’s direction until their shoulders bumped. “Is it the PDA you don’t like? Or is it me?”
West’s gaze drifted to Cole, then Rita.
“Uhm.” She wet her lips and tried to slow her suddenly sprinting heart. Nothing like putting her on the spot, with an audience.
West cocked his head uncomfortably, then went back to work.
Cole shifted closer. “You don’t have to be polite about it. If it’s me, say it’s me.”
“It’s not you.” She whispered as softly as possible; still, the words rang through the silent little room. West’s stupid printer had given up its work in time for her answer.
“If it’s my reputation, we can talk about that.”
Rita’s cheeks flamed. “Stop. I don’t care about your reputation.” Caring for him scared the hell out of her, and knowing he was likely to move on the minute the case was over, thus breaking her silly heart, didn’t help. She didn’t care who he’d slept with before. His past wasn’t any of her business. The notion his future might be, however, twisted her stomach into eager knots.
“Is it your reputation, then?” he asked.
She yanked her chin back, caught completely off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
West cleared his throat. “Do you two want me to leave? I mean, it’s my office, but this is making me really uncomfortable.”
Cole set his hand on the arm of her chair, firmly ignoring his older brother. He turned his palm up, fingers opening and closing in a greedy motion. His blue eyes danced with mischief.
West murmured something about Cole’s stupidity, then continued typing.
She pushed his hand away. “I don’t have a reputation.”
A dare played on Cole’s lips. His hand popped back into place. “But you might if you’re seen with me. Is that it?”
“That’s not it.” Not the way Cole had meant, anyway. She just didn’t want to be known as the silly girl who played at being his girlfriend when she’d already be dealing with the heartbreaking loss. “Is that why you were mad when we came in here?”
West raised both palms, eyes focused on the computer screen. “Gray Line Enterprises is listed as an import/export company. Looks like they buy unused dock space, then resell it quickly every time. In three of the locations I’ve searched so far, a storage facility opened within a year. Many of the secondary purchasers are the same on multiple properties.”
“Shell corps?” Cole asked, returning his empty hand to his lap. “Do we know who owns the other companies? Could
they all be operated by Gray Line?”
“Maybe.” West lifted the receiver from his desk phone. “I’m going to pass this on to Tech Support. They’ll have complete histories on all these companies before lunch. What I’d really like to know is why all the properties ended up with a storage facility.”
“What do you think they’re storing?” Cole asked.
Rita’s tummy churned with flashes from her time on the docks. She forced her dry mouth to cooperate as she recalled the stained dress shirt and contents of the blood-splattered car trunk.
“Guns.”
Chapter Sixteen
Cole pulled West’s truck into the lot outside the municipal building. After Rita explained about the guns and the black sedan’s bloody trunk, West had handed over his keys. The possibility of gunrunning in Shadow Point was nearly unthinkable. The fact someone in local government could be involved was worse.
He shifted the oversize pickup into Park and gave his new partner an appraising look. Bringing Rita to the place where Minsk had rendezvoused with his possible murderer was a calculated risk, but it sounded one hundred times better than letting her make that drop at the park. Cole couldn’t protect her there, and he couldn’t stop her from going if she put her mind to it. Worse, West had looked a little too agreeable on the matter, leaving Cole to agree to plan B.
An undercover assignment.
Rita’s brows pinched in concentration. The municipal building was her turf. Cole was only there as backup, and he’d been given strict orders to lay low. Hence the vehicle swap. His cruiser would have drawn too much attention. Thanks to an unexpected night spent at the hospital, he was already deep undercover in his Army T-shirt and basketball shorts.
Rita adjusted the stack of files on her lap and took a deep breath.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asked, torn again. Wishing she’d stayed out of this, but glad to be there with her just in case there was trouble.
“I’ve got this.” Rita pressed the passenger door open and slid into the parking lot.
Cole lowered a ball cap onto his mussed hair and went to meet her. “I’ve never been to the courthouse in basketball shorts.”
“I don’t think anyone will recognize you,” Rita said. “Being out of uniform puts you out of context here, and the cap adds another layer of cover. Most people won’t stare long enough to get a good look at your face. It’s bad manners.”
He tugged the cap lower on his forehead, curving the bill to better shade his eyes. “What about you? You’re supposed to be sick. What will everyone say when they see you?”
She rolled her eyes. “People don’t see me.”
Cole disagreed. He followed her through Security admiring the curve of her backside in those cotton pants and trying not to make eye contact with anyone he knew.
Everything about Rita was heart-stopping sexy. How could she think no one noticed?
She paused at the bottom of the marble staircase to arrange the folders in her arms. She’d borrowed them from West’s office as props. “I’m going to hit up the receptionist at the mayor’s office for information. You’re going to pretend to be visiting town and picking up literature on the area. Isla’s new enough to Shadow Point that she might not recognize you right away.”
Rita hugged the folders to her chest. “Isla’s an avid gossip. I’ve gone out for drinks with her and Cyndi before. They talk about everyone. If there’s anything juicy available on Minsk or the mayor, or if the governor’s in town, like we guessed, Isla will know.”
Hopefully Rita was right and Isla would have a significant lead. Then Rita could forget about making the drop at the park. Everything in Cole’s gut said that was a horrible idea. “I’ll be right behind you,” he promised. “Are you sure she won’t know me?” Besides, the other option was to wait outside for Rita, and that wasn’t happening.
She bit into the thick of her bottom lip. “I don’t know if Isla knows you personally, but she certainly knows plenty about you.” She started up the stairs without him.
“What do you mean?” Cole kept pace easily, attempting to look as if he wasn’t speaking to Rita.
She lifted and dropped one narrow shoulder. “She’s got stories. Trust me. I’ve overheard more than my share.” She made a gag face, then turned for the mayor’s office.
“Hey.” He grabbed her elbow without thinking. Her eyes flashed up to meet his. There was so much he wanted to tell her. Of course, now wasn’t the time, but for him and Rita, it was never the time. “I think you and I need to talk when we finish here.”
“Okay.” She wiggled free of his grip. “I guess it won’t matter if she recognizes you. As long as no one realizes you’re here as part of an official investigation, we’re fine.”
She strode through the office door, the picture of confidence.
Cole slid into the room behind her and picked up a pamphlet on the history of Cade County.
“Hi, Isla,” Rita began, resting her pile of files on the reception desk.
“Rita?” Isla gasped. “I thought you were sick. You should be at home.” Her eyes stretched wide. “Or at the hospital with Ryan!”
Rita’s limbs twitched at the mention of her brother. Guilt contorted her features, and Cole could practically hear her wishing she’d stayed with her brother.
Come on. Don’t get derailed.
“I’m trying to get by,” Rita drawled, extra slow and steady, as if she were barely keeping herself upright. “I’m sick, but I’m too worried to rest or concentrate.” Her voice cracked on the last word.
“You poor thing,” Isla cooed.
Rita patted the folders. “I figured I’d take some work home. Maybe I can distract myself from worrying about Ryan, or at least bore myself to sleep.” She slumped slightly and offered a pitiful smile, looking quite effectively put out. “I saw you here, and figured while I was in the building I might as well come and ask you about someone I’ve been noticing lately.”
Isla popped out of her chair and leaned on her elbows over the counter. She shot Cole a curious look before turning hungry eyes back on Rita. “Who?”
“I don’t even know his name.” Rita sighed. “But he’s tall, dark and handsome. Black hair, brown eyes, olive skin. I swear he’s a Greek god or something. Always dressed to the nines. Walks like he owns everything, and sometimes I wish...” She trailed off before Isla’s line of drool hit the counter.
Cole forced his fingers to ease their grip on the hunting and fishing pamphlet. Rita was improvising, and she was good.
He didn’t like it.
“Well, sweetie, I’m afraid I’ve got bad news.” Mischief crawled through Isla’s eerie campfire tone. “Your man is gone. Thrown in the river.” She raised her eyebrows high and waited for a reaction.
“What?” Rita pressed a hand to her collarbone, utterly overacting. “When?”
“Couple days ago. I guess you’ve been too sick to catch the news. His name was Roger Minsk. He used to come in and stand right where you are a few times a week.”
“He did?” Rita dropped her jaw. “Why? I thought he was a lawyer or a wealthy businessman.”
Isla smiled, apparently savoring the moment. “He was wealthy, all right. A land developer. Came here a bunch of times trying to make a deal about the docks.”
“Oh. I hope they’re finally revitalizing that area. It’s been too long.”
“No, now I didn’t say that,” Isla corrected with a glimmer of fanfare. “Roger was on a mission for some company. They made offers for the docks. He met with the mayor a few times, which is real strange because it’s the governor who’s in charge of that sort of thing.”
“Do you think the governor was here?”
“Hell if I know. That guy’s slicker than...” Isla checked over both shoulders and glanced in Cole’s direction once more. “Can I help you, sir?” she asked in a sugary-
sweet tone.
Cole put the pamphlet away and chose another without looking. Fly Fishing Tours. “Just seeing what your little town has to offer,” he said.
“Well, honey, I don’t do much fishing, but I’m guessing a man like you would have no trouble hooking a few nice ones out at Miller’s pub tonight.” She snapped her gum and looked pleased with herself.
“Thanks.” He swapped the fishing brochure out for one on local churches.
Isla frowned. “Anyway...” She readdressed Rita in a quieter voice. “I don’t know all the details on those meetings, but I can tell you that the mayor stayed late on the nights Roger was here, and he left in a big black SUV that wasn’t his. I saw him from the coffee shop across the street when I was having dinner with Cyndi. We thought maybe it was a car service because he was going somewhere he shouldn’t be going. Like, maybe he didn’t want his car seen sitting outside the gentleman’s club, you know?” She raised her eyebrows again. “I never thought that could’ve been the governor’s driver. I’m not sure why the governor would come to Shadow Point for a secret meeting, but it makes more sense than Minsk wanting to talk to our small-town mayor about buying the docks.”
“Sounds like a scandal,” Rita said.
Isla perked. “I’m thinking the same thing.”
Cole suspected scandal might be one of her favorite words.
He set his magazine aside and tipped his hat as he left the office. He’d already spent too long pretending to read tourism brochures. It was time to find a place with a good view of the office where he could wait for Rita.
* * *
RITA LEFT THE mayor’s office a few moments behind Cole. She’d only been able to make her escape by telling Isla she would chase the handsome tourist into the parking lot and get his phone number.
A zip of panic raced through her when she didn’t find him leaning against the wall outside the office. She headed for the staircase on quick feet, pulse beating in her ears and mind in full breakdown mode. Cole saw the shooter and chased him. Cole was caught off guard and whisked away through the side entrance at gunpoint.
Shadow Point Deputy Page 15