Lit Fuse (A Tanner Novel Book 44)

by Remington Kane

  “What?”

  “You’re amazing now. I was imagining what you would be like if you also had incredible strength.”

  “I’ve got enough strength for some things,” Cody said, as he slipped a hand beneath the nightgown Sara was wearing.

  “You’ll be weak when I get done with you,” Sara said. She reached over to douse the light on her side of the bed, and the room was cloaked in darkness.

  20

  Into The Wrong Hands

  Morgan Miller awoke early and found that the fingers of his right hand were sore, and his knuckles were bruised. The pain and bruising were a result of using his fists on Joshua the night before. After swallowing a couple of tablets of a pain reliever, Miller went down to the kitchen in his robe and made coffee.

  He took his cup outside on the deck, but before he could take a seat, he needed to use a beach towel to dry off a chair that was wet from the previous night’s storm. When he was settled at a small, round wooden table, he sipped his coffee, stared out at the sea, and thought about the events of the preceding day.

  Shooting Haley wasn’t the first time Miller had killed someone. He’d lost track of how many people he’d killed while in the army, not through indifference, but because of how muddled things had been in a war zone.

  Haley wasn’t the first woman he killed either. Years earlier, he’d murdered a woman who had been an employee of Hexalcorp. The woman was beautiful, yet Miller noticed that she was giving a lot of attention to a chubby guy who worked in accounting. It was possible she found the man attractive, but it seemed unlikely, nor was the bean counter pulling down big bucks. If it wasn’t his looks or his money she was after, that meant she desired something else.

  Miller kept an eye on her. At the time, he was new with Hexalcorp, fresh out of the army, and working as a security guard at Hexalcorp’s main headquarters. He dressed in a uniform and hated it. He knew he was meant to be more than a guard and was eager to improve his standing in Hexalcorp.

  He followed the woman until he knew where she lived, then broke into her apartment on his day off. Once he was inside her filing cabinet, he figured out that she was a freelance investigative reporter. And she was good at it. She had uncovered wrongdoing at other corporations and in city governments.

  Miller bugged her apartment and placed hidden cameras in her living room, kitchen, and bedroom. Two days later, he recorded the reporter talking on the phone with a friend and bragging about how she was on the verge of gaining access to Hexalcorp’s financial records, their real financial records.

  Miller approached the VP in charge of corporate security and asked to speak with him alone. The man looked at him as if he were annoyed by the request. He had no time to waste on a lowly security guard who was probably going to ask him for a raise or a favor.

  Before the man could turn him down, Miller handed him an envelope. He had typed out a transcript of the conversation he’d recorded while leaving out names that would identify the reporter or the accountant who was feeding her information. That way, Miller wasn’t giving away everything he knew without an assurance that he would be compensated for his efforts.

  “Read that,” Miller told the man. “You’ll find it interesting.”

  Intrigued, the executive opened the envelope and began skimming the contents. When Miller saw his eyes widen, he knew he had the man’s attention.

  “Step into my office… mister… what’s your name?”

  Miller gave him his name, his real name, Keith Popovich, and the man told his assistant to hold all calls. Miller spent over an hour talking to the head of Hexalcorp’s security division that day. When they were done, he’d never have to wear a guard uniform again, had scored a fat bonus, doubled his salary, and had been given an assignment. He was to make certain the reporter’s story never saw the light of day and he had to keep her from talking. Miller accomplished both those tasks by killing the woman and making it seem as if she had died in a tragic car accident where alcohol was to blame. Sitting in the passenger seat of the car was the accountant who liked to talk too much to beautiful women.

  In time, Miller’s responsibilities grew along with Hexalcorp. He became known as the go-to-guy for anything that required finesse and extra-legal activities.

  Of late, he’d overseen the recruiting and managing of various groups of protestors. Die Fistulous was just one such faction. In a world where corporations were regularly harassed by protest groups opposing their business practices or their impact on different communities, it only made sense to control the narrative. Hexalcorp funded their own groups to use as controlled opposition. They could dictate how enthusiastically the groups became when they were the target of their ire, and later have the group’s leadership calm the people they led and convince them that Hexalcorp had agreed to make concessions. No concessions would be made, only the illusion of such would be given to appease the rank and file of the protest groups.

  As a bonus, Hexalcorp could direct the protest groups at their competition. Several competitors were weakened or destroyed by an operation of systematic attacks that included boycotts, letter writing campaigns, lobbying of lawmakers, and a media blitz designed to ruin a competitor’s reputation in the marketplace.

  Forming such groups was Miller’s idea, although to be fair, he’d stolen the practice from politics. More than one member of a political party was, in reality, a member of the rival party. Quite often, they were the ones who were most vehement about upholding the ideas of the party banner they ran for office under. If a scandal or a controversial issue arose involving the opposition party, they were the person reporters sought out for a quote or opinion. Their words were carefully chosen to not be too inflammatory, nor would they take any real action to bring about change. They invariably had long careers in Washington D.C., while at the same time complaining about how career politicians were not what the Founding Fathers had envisioned for the country.

  They were there to take the place of a true believer who would have gone after their opponents with zeal and righteous fury. When such a person did appear on the political scene, they were silenced by one method or another.

  This tactic was used by both ruling political parties, who in reality weren’t opposed to each other. They were just using that tried-and-true method of divide and conquer. No matter which party was in control, the political class won. They grew wealthier and more powerful while the people they governed lost. They lost their freedoms, their rights, and were taxed more every year.

  Miller, cynical by nature, thought their strategies were obvious, but most people were blind to them. The corporation he worked for, Hexalcorp, was determined to imitate the politicians’ success. They were constantly merging with other corporations or buying out their smaller competitors. Miller figured the day would eventually come when there would be only one corporation, and that single entity would rule all commerce worldwide. The politicians had their dream of an authoritarian one-world government, and Hexalcorp had a similar dream for the future of business.

  Miller’s protest groups were Hexalcorp’s controlled opposition, although ninety-nine percent of the group’s members had no idea they were being used. Joshua had found out Die Fistulous’s true purpose, and Miller had agreed with Naya’s decision to kill him. If Joshua had begun talking to others in the group, some would have believed him, and others would have instigated an investigation. That couldn’t happen. The lie had to be maintained, otherwise, Hexalcorp would lose control of the monsters they’d created, and the members of the various protest groups would genuinely turn their fury on them.

  By the time Naya appeared wearing a pink robe with matching slippers, Miller had gotten dressed and was enjoying a second cup of coffee while watching television. It was a local news station; their coverage focused on the riot, and the devastation it had brought to the city of San Padre.

  A helicopter was hovering over the city’s Flat Town area. Most of the structures that had been home to thousands of people were in as
hes and the rest unfit for habitation. The city’s downtown area fared better, but it was being reported that two out of every three storefronts had suffered from vandals and looting.

  The mayor appeared at a press conference looking dismayed. She kept shaking her head and saying that her nephew, Kyle Anderson, had been found guilty, and she wondered why the protestors felt it necessary to riot.

  Miller smiled. The riot would have taken place even if Anderson had been tortured for his crime on live TV. The riot was planned, and the plan had gone well and accomplished its purpose.

  Naya joined Miller on the sofa and pointed at the television. “How soon will Hexalcorp make a bid on that land?”

  “The offer to buy the land will be part of a package that will include their plans for the site of the old town dump. If I had to guess, the people above me will wait a week or more to let the city grow desperate about the situation, then, when Hexalcorp tenders their offer, it will make us look like the answer to a prayer. There will be pressure on state and federal authorities to offer tax aid and other incentives as well. Within a decade, the corporation will have made back their money and will be on the verge of doubling it.”

  Naya laughed. “It’s really devious, and we can keep doing the same thing over and over.”

  “As long as we’re careful we can. But maybe not in as large a measure as we’re doing here. If that kept happening, someone would catch on eventually. That guy, Joshua, he could have caused a lot of trouble for us if he started talking.”

  “About that…”

  “Yes?”

  “I took care of that problem by killing him. I think I deserve to be compensated for it.”

  “You’re already getting a bonus, Naya. And remember, he was one of your people. To compensate you for handling Joshua, I’d have to discuss the situation with my superior. I have no intention of doing that. It would only make us look bad.”

  Naya’s expression told Miller she wasn’t happy about his answer. He didn’t care. The truth was, she was lucky he hadn’t shot her after he’d killed Haley. Naya had witnessed him committing a murder. If it wasn’t for the fact that a number of people had seen them together often and knew that she was staying with him, Miller might have killed her. He liked Naya, and enjoyed her in bed, but she wasn’t worth risking prison over. When the time was right, Miller would find a way to get rid of her. That way, she would never talk.

  Miller stood. “I have a little work to do this morning, then we’ll go out and have an early lunch, okay?”

  “That sounds good; right now, all I want is coffee.”

  Miller headed for the room in the beach house he was using for an office. He was only in there for a few minutes before he returned and ran up the stairs.

  Naya called to him. “Is something wrong?”

  “I can’t find my computer tablet; you know what I mean, the small one. Have you seen it?”

  “No. Maybe you left it in the car.”

  After searching for the tablet on the upper floor of the house and not finding it, Miller hurried back down the stairs and looked around the living room. “I never took it out to the car since I’ve arrived here. I was certain I had left it sitting on the desk.”

  Naya’s lips parted in shock as an idea came to her. “Could Joshua have taken it?”

  Miller made a face as he thought that over. “My gun was in the office too, so we know he was in there.” He took in a deep breath and held up a hand. “Let’s search the whole house before we jump to that conclusion. Help me look for it.”

  It wasn’t long before Miller realized that the computer tablet was missing. They had gone through the house together, and he had gone outside and searched the car and the cabana down on the beach. The computer tablet was gone.

  Naya had gotten dressed while Miller had been searching the cabana. She met him at the door when he returned and could see by his empty hands and sour expression that he had found nothing.

  “How important is that tablet?”

  “It has a list of every recruiter for every protest group, including your name… and a copy of Hexalcorp’s plans for San Padre. If a reporter or someone from a rival corporation were to have that information… it would be a disaster.”

  “We could go get it. I’ll bet you that Joshua’s body is still lying near the stream.”

  Miller shook his head. “He must have been found by now. There have been news helicopters flying over the city for hours.”

  “Yes, but remember, Joshua was under a tree. They might not have spotted him from the air.”

  “Then a jogger might have found him, or someone walking a dog.”

  “Or no one. It’s worth taking a look.”

  “It is, but if we’re spotted there, how do we explain what we’re doing near the body?”

  Naya smiled. “Put on a pair of shorts; we’re going jogging.”

  Miller was breathing hard by the time they had run down the hill and reached the area where the murders had taken place. He could tell that Joshua’s body was missing even before he reached the spot where they’d left him.

  He spoke between gasps as he sucked in air. “He’s… gone. I’ll…have to… to… see what I can find out… at the morgue.”

  “In person?” Naya asked. She was younger and fitter than Miller and was breathing normally despite the running she’d done.

  “No. I’ll have… one of my operatives… handle it. The tablet may be in Joshua’s personal effects.”

  “I never liked him. He was always staring at me and smiling. As if I’d waste my time with a loser like him.”

  “I have to get that tablet back,” Miller said, as he began walking the way they had come to return to the beach house.

  Naya came up beside him. “I’ll race you back up the hill.”

  “Race? I’m not running; I’d rather walk. I’m tired and it will give me time to think.”

  “Think about what?”

  “About what I’ll do if I’m unable to locate that computer tablet. What was Joshua’s last name? I’ll need it to find out where they’ve taken his body.”

  Naya shrugged. “I don’t know his last name, but I can call one of my people who knew him and Haley well.”

  “Yes, do that. No, on second thought, don’t do that. His friends will remember that you asked about him.”

  “So what? He’s one of my people.”

  “And you told me that you argued with him in front of witnesses last night, because he didn’t want to go to Flat Town. Then you call around asking about him and he winds up dead. See how that looks?”

  “I guess you’re right. But how do we find him if we don’t know his full name?”

  “We’ll find him. How many Joshua’s could there be who died during the riot?”

  Naya touched herself gently. “My breast still hurts where that bastard burnt me with the lamp.”

  “I’m sore too, but I’m more worried about him hurting me from beyond the grave. I have got to find that tablet.”

  The computer tablet was in good hands; Tanner had it. He was with his brother, Caleb, as they drove into town so Tanner could send off the damaged computer tablet to Kate Barlow.

  Like Cody, Caleb went by another name. He was Stark, a thief who only stole from other thieves. Stark wasn’t as well known or as feared as Tanner, but among thieves his name was said as a curse. The money Caleb made from his efforts went toward a charity that he and his older sister ran.

  John Knox, the man who had adopted Caleb, had used the farm as a place where paroled convicted felons could get a fresh start. A few of those felons had been men whom Detective John Knox had arrested over the years. After his death, Knox’s daughter, Sadie, wanted to keep the charity running, while also changing its focus. Instead of helping men who had made mistakes that led to them to wasting years away in prison, Sadie decided to give aid to at-risk youths who were headed toward a life of crime. It took money to keep the successful program running, and that was where Stark came in. By robb
ing thieves, he made sure that the charity had enough money to keep going.

  Tanner and Stark had the day off and it was Cody and Caleb who drove through the streets of Robbinstown, California, in Caleb’s black pickup truck.

  They were both dressed in jeans and work boots, as they had plans to repair the roof on the barn when they returned home from sending off the computer tablet. A broken tree branch had hit the roof and caused damage.

  Caleb hadn’t wanted Cody to help, because his big brother was on vacation, but Cody insisted on lending a hand. He had always liked manual labor, but seldom got to do it on his own ranch since he had people working for him who saw to such things. It was also a matter of having the time. As a Tanner, Cody was constantly learning new skills or staying practiced with the ones he had already acquired. Maintaining his proficiency with the dozen plus languages he spoke took hours every week, and on top of that, he was training an apprentice to someday take his place.

  As Cody Parker, he had a ranch to run, an academy that trained security personnel, and the responsibility of two children to raise. Being able to enjoy himself at manual labor while being with his brother was a treat, not a chore.

  Caleb parked his truck in front of a storefront where Cody could send off his package as an overnight delivery. Caleb pointed to the place next door, which was a toy store.

  “While you’re mailing off that package, I’ll be in there getting my niece and nephew a few things.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Caleb. We brought some of the kids’ favorite toys along with us.”

  “I know. But I don’t see them very often and I want to spoil them.”

  “They won’t mind that, but don’t break the bank on them.”

  Cody entered the storefront that housed the express delivery service. After standing in line to be waited on, he arranged to have the package containing the computer tablet sent to Kate Barlow. He was told that she would receive it no later than noon the next day. Along with the package, he wrote a note.