Noel watched as Yasmine deflated in front of him. The faster they got this solved, the faster she could move on with her life. Find peace again. He couldn’t even imagine what she was going through—she’d had three weeks to come to grips with Daniel’s death, and now here she was being emotionally dragged through it all over again.
“We’re going to take down the people who did this,” he murmured. This time, when he reached for her knee, he didn’t hesitate. She didn’t flinch, and a part of him relaxed. But just a tiny part. “Your family has been through enough. You’ve been through enough.”
She leaned over to whisper in his ear, and for a moment Noel almost forgot why they were in the back of a police car. The scent of her hair, her skin, transported him to an imaginary time when they could sit together, sip tea and talk. Someday. Maybe someday. As friends.
It didn’t matter how his stomach tensed and his mouth dried when she looked into his eyes. He had a brand-new career, an assignment for two years at the Buffalo field office, and after that he might be sent anywhere in the country. Settling down couldn’t happen anytime soon, which meant his heart couldn’t get distracted, either. Not that Yasmine would ever consider actively distracting him. They’d missed that boat long ago.
“Do you have another car?” she asked.
He shook his head and considered their options. “My parents. I’ll borrow their car. When we get to the station… Hang on. We’ll need to move on the fly with this.” Noel sent a quick text to his mother, asking her to come pick them up. He didn’t like the idea of bringing his mom down to the police station or want to interrupt her in helping out at the bakery, but he and Yasmine needed to get away from the station for a while to meet Crais, and he needed to work through all of the details so far in his head. He wanted to be inconspicuous about the absence, just in case there was something to Crais’s suspicions.
One thing nagged at the back of his mind as his mom texted back to let him know she was on her way. If the captain was after Yasmine, why had he let her rest at the station? Why not just shoot her or take out both of them some other way?
Because you’re a federal agent. And because you’ve been next to Yasmine since this all began, and he was waiting to find out what you know.
It explained the disappearance of the policemen in the hospital and how the man posing as a doctor had known which room she was in. It also explained the break-in to Yasmine’s apartment and the early-morning car accident—she had a regular routine, making her an easy target for stalking and attack. She was even inside a vehicle loaned to Noel by none other than Officer Wayne, someone who’d certainly communicate that information to the captain if asked. On the other hand, it didn’t explain the deceased soldier reappearing, alive and well, to take a shot at Yasmine through the restaurant window. Nor did it explain why any of this had happened.
He needed to speak to Crais in person. His mentor would know what to do, or at least help clarify the next step to take.
Eventually the convoy of police cars arrived back at the station, with Officer Wayne thoughtfully pulling up to the front door for Yasmine’s sake. Noel scanned the parking lot until he saw it—his mother’s bulky white Lincoln.
“Ready? Head straight for the white tub on the left. Don’t stop. Get inside and get down.”
Yasmine nodded, her expression uncertain. “What are you going to do?”
“Buy us some time. Go now.” They exited their respective sides of the vehicle, and Yasmine moved as quickly as her injuries allowed toward his mom’s car.
“Hey!” Officer Wayne called and waved his arms. He turned to Noel, concern etched across his features. “Where’s she going? Isn’t she supposed to stay with us?”
“New plan,” Noel said. “I have direct orders from the FBI to take her to a safe house. Tell the captain I’ll speak with him soon.”
Officer Wayne frowned. “Can’t you go in and tell him yourself? We took a whole convoy to protect her, so if you just take off—”
“Trust me.” Noel laughed, not even needing to force it. “Nobody’s going to suspect a thing while she’s in that massive boat, so long as we get moving. Urgent change of plans. Tell the captain to call the FBI if he has questions.”
Officer Wayne nodded, still uncertain. Noel knew he’d get a call from the captain in a matter of minutes, so he needed to make the most of whatever brief respite he could grab from all the voices and imminent threats.
He jogged to his mom’s car and climbed into the passenger seat. Yasmine lay across the backseat, her teeth clenched as she maneuvered to find a comfortable position with her injuries. Noel fastened his seat belt as his mother pulled out of the parking lot, her lips pursed with disapproval.
“She should be in the hospital,” she finally said.
“Yes, Mom. Thanks. But it’s not safe there. I need you to pay very close attention to the road while I watch around us. You’re going to drive back to the bakery, and then we’re going to borrow your car. Okay?”
She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Noel, I don’t like this.”
“I promise I’ll pay for repairs if it gets scratched.”
“I don’t care about that! Who’ll repair you or poor little Yasmine? She looks more than scratched, and if anything happens to either of you—”
“It won’t.” Noel hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. “It won’t, all right?”
“I hope you’re praying for safety and asking God for guidance. I’m praying every chance I get, and more.”
And it’s not making much of a difference, is it? “Thanks, Mom. But this situation is beyond prayer.”
His mom glared at Noel as they reached a red light. “Beyond prayer? Did I hear those words out of my son’s mouth?”
“Mom, I—”
From the backseat, Yasmine’s quiet voice chimed in. “You did. I heard them, too.”
The light turned green, and his mother accelerated. He could almost feel the disappointment through her acceleration. “My own son. I thought I raised you right. You know God cares, no matter what. Nothing is beyond His care. Nothing.”
A heavy silence descended inside the vehicle. Noel didn’t want to argue with his mother, and he needed to focus his attention on watching everything around them. The tension in his shoulders had only grown from hour to hour, ever since he’d confronted the false doctor in Yasmine’s hospital room. He felt as though he was counting down the minutes waiting for the next attack, blind to where it would come from and helpless to stop it.
If it came at all, it would be too soon.
* * *
When they reached the bakery, Yasmine had to dig her fingers into the car seat to stop herself from running inside the store. She wanted to sit up and see how busy the parking lot was today, to go inside and take charge and make sure everything was being done right. Noel’s mother slid out of the car with a few semi-encouraging words—mostly a vague assurance that she and Auntie Zee had things under control, which didn’t do a lot to soothe Yasmine’s nerves—and Noel climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Wait there one minute,” his mom called over her shoulder.
“She gets thirty seconds,” Noel muttered. “We need to go.”
Less than a minute later, Mrs. Black poked her head back into the car and plopped a paper bag down on the now-empty passenger seat. “A few rolls and some cookies. Zara and I thought you might need them after the day you’ve had.” She pulled two bottles of water out of her purse and handed them to Noel.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome. Be safe, Noel.” She rounded the car to lean in and kiss her son’s cheek, sending a pang through Yasmine’s insides. She didn’t often think of her parents—tried not to, in fact—but seeing how tenderly Mrs. Black treated her son made Yasmine regret that she hadn’t appreciated her own mother’s affections more when she’d had the chance.
“Thank you, Mrs. Black.”
Noel’s mom waved at her. “You’ll keep praying for him, won’t you?”
Yasmine grinned. “Of course I will.”
“God loves you, honey.” She disappeared from sight as Noel pulled the car away, a slight scowl on his face.
“You don’t need to pray for me,” he muttered. “I can take care of myself. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“I’ll be fine, as long as I get one of those rolls.”
At the next stoplight, Noel parceled out the goodies. Yasmine’s mouth watered even before her first bite, and although she’d been nervous about Mrs. Black and Auntie Zee running the bakery today and getting the recipes right, one bite into the first roll and she knew she’d worried for nothing. They had it under control.
Noel, on the other hand, did not. Every time he glanced in the rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of the intensity on his face. His big brother efforts to keep her safe were appreciated, but she had military training. She knew how to take care of herself. If it weren’t for a few cracked ribs, it’d be business as usual. Technically it still could be, so long as she didn’t attempt any heavy lifting or bending—cracked ribs were nothing compared to what could have broken.
For Noel’s sake, she hoped that this mentor of his could shed some light on their situation. If Captain Simcoe was involved, why? Financial kickbacks? It made sense in a strange and twisted way, but she had a hard time believing that the competent and cooperative captain had a bad bone in his body. She’d met him before, after Daniel’s death, and found him both friendly and empathetic, despite his unwillingness to pursue her suspicions. But what did she know, really? Military training wasn’t the same as FBI training, and the FBI wasn’t the same as—
Her train of thought sparked an idea.
“Hey, Noel? Do you have a way to access financial records or anything like that? Maybe take a look at the facility’s emails?”
Noel shook his head. “We’d need a warrant or subpoena for those kinds of records, and the FBI would have to take over the investigation first. I’m hoping to convince Crais to do that when we meet up. I don’t have the authority for it, not yet.”
They lapsed back into silence as they drove. She didn’t want to distract Noel from paying close attention to the road, and truth be told, she didn’t know what else to say. Her eyelids drooped as the hum of the car’s engine tugged on her muscles and forced her to relax.
“We’re here.” Noel’s hand reached around the back of his seat and tapped on her arm. “Rise and shine.”
Yasmine yawned and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, but somehow the short nap had actually left her feeling a bit worse. It had to be the painkillers wearing off. “Do we have any water left?” Noel passed her his bottle with a few gulps left, and she took her next dose of pills.
He opened the back door for her, and she climbed out. “Where are we?”
They’d pulled into the driveway of a home with a wide, untamed lawn. It looked like an upper-middle-class suburb, except that none of the homes were in very good shape. The driveways were empty of vehicles, including the driveway they’d pulled into.
“It’s an FBI safe house,” Noel explained. “Crais wanted to meet here instead of at the FBI office, and I wasn’t about to ask him to drive all the way to Newherst.”
“Why didn’t he want to meet at the office?” Yasmine couldn’t stop looking up and down the street. Where were all the people? “This place seems completely deserted. Like a ghost town.”
Noel shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m sure he has a good reason. And I assume this is one of the abandoned areas in Buffalo. Detroit has neighborhoods like this, too, but both cities are starting to revitalize some neighborhoods thanks to dirt-cheap real estate. The instability in so many cities these days makes me glad to call a small town like Newherst home, even if I haven’t lived there for a while.”
“No kidding. Is your mentor here?” Noel looked up at the house in front of them with a confidence that Yasmine didn’t share. The whole situation felt off. “I guess the lack of traffic means we’ll hear anyone coming, but it makes more sense to me to meet at the FBI office.”
Noel started up the red brick path that led to a set of unkempt stone porch steps. “This isn’t officially an FBI investigation yet, remember? We need to hash out the details on how to make it one before the military steps in and tries to take over. They’ll shut us out and it could be years before you get answers about Daniel.”
“If you say so.”
At the door, Noel knocked three times, waited and then knocked once more.
“Secret code?” she asked.
He gave her a quizzical look. “Courtesy.”
Within seconds, footsteps thudded inside the house. A latch turned, and the door opened to reveal a dark-haired man in a black suit. His short, spiked hair and manicured goatee reminded Yasmine of a television character, though she couldn’t recall exactly whom.
“Black?”
Noel held up his badge. “The same. Special Agent Crais?”
Crais opened the door wider and gestured them inside. He shut and locked it behind them. “Down the hall to the right. Take a seat if you like.”
Yasmine followed Noel, her sense of unease growing by the minute. All of the blinds were closed. The house had sparse decor, and all the furniture and carpets were black or dark brown. As they entered a moderate-size living room, she noticed a layer of dust coating a side table. Did the FBI not pay to keep up their properties?
“It’s good to finally meet you, sir, but if you don’t mind, I’ll get right to it.” Noel stood rather than taking a seat. Crais stepped into the room behind them and clasped his hands at his front. “If the local police or even just the captain has been taking payouts from this inspection facility, we’ve got a big problem. There’s no question there. But I’ve no idea how the soldier who was supposed to have been killed in action fits into this. It doesn’t make sense.”
Crais nodded slowly, rolling his shoulders back. His movements were calculated. Deliberate. “You’re right. It’s a mess. But what makes you think someone is receiving payouts from this inspection facility? What makes you think it’s not just the work of a corrupt manager? Maybe he’s just greedy.”
“A greedy manager who has enough money and organizational skills to launch a series of coordinated attacks on Miss Browder?” Yasmine waved at Crais, who nodded his acknowledgment. Noel continued. “I mean, the guy definitely has money, but there’s absolutely no way he’s behind these attacks. I had time to think on the way over here, and I’m wondering—what if this goes higher? What if there’s a chain of corruption that goes beyond the facility? It would explain the attacks and the dead soldier who turned out to be very much alive. Only someone with extensive reach, resources and considerable cash flow could have recruited a soldier and convinced him to fake his death, since that’s what this is looking like with our current information. There’s got to be somebody at the top making calls, somebody who has money and authority and power, and who for whatever reason believes that Daniel Browder’s sister also knew about these falsified reports. And they’re trying to cover their tracks.”
Yasmine stared at Noel. His face was flushed and his eyes bright, and for one inexplicable instant she wanted nothing more than for him to sweep her off her feet and kiss her with the same intensity he’d given to making that speech. But when she looked over at Crais to see his reaction, the intensity was of quite a different kind. Darker.
“You’re assuming that these falsified reports exist and that they’re the cause of the attacks. Without proof, it’s going to be extremely difficult to pursue that line of thinking.”
“But—”
Crais held up a hand. “I’m not saying you’re wrong. Only that it’s going to be difficult, and you can’t rule out anything yet, even the local police.”
Noel seemed to shrink under his mentor’s scrutiny. “I know. That’s why I was hoping you’d know a way to open an investigation and convince a judge to give us a warrant to subpoena the facility’s documents, the manager’s emails, financials, whatever it takes. This is about more than one man’s death. If it really is a case of falsified inspection reports, we could be sending soldiers out into the field with shoddy equipment, pieces that aren’t up to standard and could fail on them in a critical moment. That’ll cost more than one life. And if it goes higher? I mean, if there’s a Department of Defense connection, or other government service—”
“Stop.” Crais grunted and shook his head. “I don’t want to hear any more.”
“I don’t understand.”
Crais’s sigh was heavy. “I should say, I don’t want to know any more, for your sake and mine. Black, I didn’t ask you to come here to talk only about this situation. I’ve received an official request from the Department of Defense to detain Miss Browder and pull you in early to the Buffalo office.”
Yasmine’s stomach dropped. Her gaze flicked to the standard-issue Glock holstered on Crais’s belt, the same kind of gun that Noel had strapped to him right now, making her the only unarmed person in the room despite being able to use a weapon as well as these men. Maybe better.
She inched closer to Noel until her right side was positioned behind him, hidden from Crais’s view. Her feeling of unease wasn’t going away, and she wanted to be ready to act if this meeting turned sour.
“Who made the request?” Noel demanded.
“No idea. The communication came through a secure channel from the Department of Defense, so it’s definitely legitimate, but no one over there is talking. I’m getting stonewalled.”
“They won’t tell you anything at all? Not a clue?” Yasmine crept even closer to Noel’s side, her hand snaking around his back.
“All I’ve been told is that it’s a matter of national security.” He held up his hand as Noel began to sputter in protest. “Trust me, I tried to talk to my superiors, but all I’m getting is a recommendation that I comply. In the FBI’s view, there’s no good reason not to. The FBI works hard to ensure we maintain a good working relationship between our organizations. Until we have a solid reason to open a case, the FBI sees no good reason for me to refuse this request.”
“I can give you a few,” Noel said, his words sharp.
Yasmine’s fingers brushed the leather of Noel’s gun holster, then slid across the bumpy ridges of the weapon’s grip. With her free hand, she clutched her ribcage and leaned toward Noel to help disguise her movements as simply those of an injured victim. Yasmine froze as Noel stiffened, unsure whether he’d done so as a reaction to Crais’s words or if he’d noticed that the belt around his waist was becoming lighter as she slowly slid the gun from its holster.
“If I don’t follow orders, the situation worsens for both of us,” Crais said.
“So, this is it?” Noel’s tone grew colder. “You know something big is happening and you’re still going to bring us in?”
Crais looked hard at Noel, then reached his hand inside his jacket. “In a manner of speaking.”
She had to act now, before Crais pulled his own weapon from inside his jacket and things turned messy. In one smooth move, Yasmine drew Noel’s gun the rest of the way, straightened and trained it on the FBI agent in front of them. “Not if we can help it.”