Yasmine watched out of the back of the unmarked police vehicle as they approached the facility. Noel sat in front with the driver, listening to police radio chatter come through sporadically. She knew this plan made Noel nervous, but Captain Simcoe had seen the value and offered some help. Two additional police cruisers followed close behind them, though both were marked in an attempt to dissuade any potential attackers from taking advantage of Yasmine being out and about again.
Noel twisted in his seat to look at her. “You all right back there?”
She shrugged. “It’s not the most comfortable, but I can handle it.”
Concern marked his features. “You’re taking your pain medication on time, right? Tell me if you need someone to get anything for you. Most people would still be lying in a hospital bed right now, and before you tell me you’re not most people and made of stronger stuff, need I remind you that you are still human?”
She pursed her lips and sighed. The deep breathing hurt a little, too, but the doctor had said she needed to make sure to do that as much as possible. Strange how such a natural function as breathing was a thing she needed to be aware of while healing.
They pulled into the parking lot of the facility. A wave of anxiety washed over her as the sign for Newtech Inspections loomed overhead. Noel stepped out of the vehicle first and opened the door for her, offering his hand to help her out. She ignored it, not because she didn’t need his help. More because she didn’t want to touch his hand again. It made her insides ache in a different way, and she had enough pain in her life right now. Every time he looked at her, her heart tripped over itself. She kept trying to suppress the rush of emotion that came after that trip, the flood of feelings that she’d thought were long buried and forgotten, but she’d cared for him as deeply as one teenager could care for another all those years ago. And he’d rejected her as fully as any person could, despite the nature of the relationship.
Not that she blamed him for it, not one bit. She’d done the same to him a few years before that. Plus, a lot had changed in ten years, so she wasn’t under any illusion that Noel’s feelings were resurrecting the same way hers kept attempting to.
Besides, finding Noel attractive was one thing. Admitting to herself that she wished they had another chance was something else entirely, and not something she could afford to do. The loss of Daniel was too recent and the memory of Marc’s cheating too clear in her heart and mind. She’d come back to Newherst to escape the heartbreak of Marc’s actions, and eight months was not a long time. She had a business to build up, a life to reestablish here.
There was no room for love. None whatsoever.
So why couldn’t she help the twist in her stomach as he reached out his hand to her?
“I won’t make you do this,” he said softly. “I want to learn the truth about Daniel as much as you do. I’m hoping it was only an accident that can be put behind us so you can move on, but I also want to figure out who’s after you before anything worse happens.”
Yasmine almost laughed at that. “It’d be hard to get much worse than what’s happened so far.”
Noel’s expression darkened. “It’s possible. Trust me.”
The intensity on his face took her breath away, and for a moment—just a moment—she thought she saw something else behind his eyes. Something that matched her own emotions. It disappeared just as quickly as she realized that, despite her best efforts, her hand had ended up in his anyway. She pulled it away.
“I’ll be right next to you the whole time,” he said, his voice low. “If at any moment you need to get out of there or take a break, you let me know. Remember that we have five officers here with us right now, all vetted by the captain. You are safe. I will make sure of it.”
Including Officer Wayne, who’d started acting nice to her now that the captain took her seriously. She still didn’t care for the man, but she trusted him and the other police officers to do their jobs. She nodded for Noel’s benefit and kept her gaze forward, placing one foot in front of the other as they walked toward the main office. She willed her knees not to give way and her lungs not to fail her, and sent up a silent prayer for strength.
Noel pulled open the door to the main office, and Wayne entered ahead of them. Noel followed, with Yasmine behind.
“You’re up,” he murmured.
A small desk and a short padded rolling chair served as the reception counter in the center of the main office, but no one sat behind the desk. Yasmine slammed her hand on top of the little metal bell on the desk’s front corner, and its ding resounded inside the shadowy space.
“This is the office of a Department of Defense contractor?” Officer Wayne looked behind the desk and took a few steps down a short hallway that led to several closed office doors. “Looks pretty sparse. And in need of serious upgrading.”
“You’d think a place funded by government contracts could afford a nicer working space,” Noel murmured. “We should check out the garage and the machinery. Must be folks out there working.”
As they turned to leave, the sound of a door latch opening halted their progress.
Noel took the few steps he needed to reach the hallway. “Excuse me, sir?”
The man exiting the room stopped, frozen in place. “What is it? Who are you?”
“Can we have a word with you, sir?”
“What about?”
Yasmine heard the hesitation in the man’s voice. If Noel managed to convince him to come down the hall and he saw the room full of burly police officers, they’d get absolutely no information out of him. She pushed past Noel and stepped into the hallway, ignoring the grunts of frustration from the men behind her.
“Excuse me. My name is Yasmine Browder. My brother is—was—Daniel Browder.”
“Browder?” The man’s face scrunched up for a moment before recognition dawned. “Oh. Yes. I’m sorry about your brother, miss. Terrible accident.”
She took another step forward, swallowing down a sudden wave of grief. “I agree, it was terrible. Would you mind speaking to me for a few minutes about it?”
“About his death?” The man’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed. “All the right reports got filed. No loose ends. Followed all the procedures.”
Loose ends. As if Daniel’s death was as mundane an event as a broken glass or an unsent email. If she hadn’t thought something fishy was going on at the facility before, based on the look the man was giving her and the way he scrutinized her up and down, she’d have thought so now. “I know, I know. But you have to understand that I’ve had a very difficult few weeks. Can we speak for a moment? Please?”
The man hesitated and glanced down at his hand still gripping the door handle. Yasmine took another step closer. If she got close enough to him, he might feel pressured to speak to her, to let her inside the office rather than deal with the hassle of kicking her out. When he took too long to respond, she drew on the memories of Daniel to finally allow her suppressed emotions to rise to the surface.
Heat built behind her eyes as tears formed and welled on her bottom lids. “Please. It will only take a moment.”
The man’s concern and suspicion turned to alarm as Yasmine felt one teardrop slide down her cheek. A dirty trick? Not at all. If she didn’t talk to this man, Noel might not have enough information to open an investigation, and she’d have to live with the knowledge of Daniel’s murder and the lack of proof for the rest of her life. She missed him so much.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Come in. Can’t be long, though. I got a meeting to head to.”
“Thank you so much.” She looked back at Noel and nodded. He strode down the hallway to meet her. “My friend will be joining me. As I’m sure you understand, I don’t like to travel alone during this difficult time.”
“Sure, sure.” The man didn’t even look at Noel as he reopened his door and let them inside. He walked around to the back of the desk and shuffled some papers, sliding a few loose sheets underneath a blue folder.
Yasmine cut her eyes to Noel to see if he’d noticed, but he wasn’t letting on that he’d seen anything at all. Were the police officers in the hallway and front office taking the opportunity to look around? She hoped so.
“You were Daniel’s boss?” Yasmine said, breaking the awkward silence. She sat down on an uncomfortable metal chair, wincing at the compression of her ribs. “Anthony…?”
“Clarke.” Anthony Clarke extended his hand to Yasmine and then Noel. “Manager of this facility. Your brother did fine work here. Hard worker. Always turned in his reports on time. Hasn’t been the same without him.”
Yasmine didn’t miss the absence of emotion in the man’s voice when he spoke about Daniel. “He did love his job and often commented how smooth this place ran,” she said, hoping to win Anthony’s trust with flattery. And for the most part, she spoke the truth. “With his engineering background, he liked knowing that the work he did made a real difference. He believed in the safety of our troops and appreciated the dedication of the other workers here.”
“Yeah? Yeah.” Anthony tapped the tip of his finger on the desk. A gold wristwatch slid out from underneath the cuff of his shirt and settled at his wrist. “Excellence or nothing. We have big contracts here. Can’t afford to turn in sloppy work. Gotta bring the boys back home in one piece.”
“This is a large facility,” Noel said, craning his neck to look around the office as though he saw the entire building from where he sat. “I imagine that as a facility contracted by the Department of Defense, you must move a lot of parts through here. You must have a very streamlined testing procedure. Also, that’s a very nice watch.”
“Huh? Yeah. Gift from my wife.” Anthony pushed the wristwatch back under his rolled shirt cuff. “We get large orders. Gotta move it through. Quota or bust. But always excellence.”
Noel reached across the desk and picked up a photo of Anthony posing in front of an old convertible. Yasmine didn’t recognize the year—as much as she appreciated old cars, she wasn’t familiar with all the details like Daniel had been—but she knew that it was definitely expensive and, combined with the expensive gold watch on the man’s wrist, definitely outside his pay grade.
“That’s a nice car,” Noel said. He whistled, shaking his head. “Let me guess. You restore old cars? You must be into that kind of thing, working with machinery and such.”
Anthony laughed. “Naw, man. Got it at an auction. Best purchase I ever made.”
“Recent?” Noel looked at Yasmine and held up the photo so she could get a better look.
“Yeah, last year. Next auction’s coming up in a month in Jersey. Got my eye on another baby. 1991 GMC Syclone. Wanted one of those trucks for as long as I can remember, and better believe I’ll be paying whatever it takes to get my hands on her. You know Jay Leno’s got one?”
“Those are pricey. Only a few thousand Syclones were ever made.” Noel put the photo back on the desk. “I wouldn’t have thought a guy on your salary could afford that kind of thing.”
Anthony smirked and leaned back in his chair. “All about the savings, man. You got to find ways to cut corners in your life to afford nice things, know what I’m saying?”
“Does that apply to your workplace as well?”
“Hey!” Anthony sat upright, face reddening. “What are you implying?” He looked at Yasmine. “I thought we were here to talk about your brother.”
Yasmine took a deep breath and plunged forward. “We are, Mr. Clarke. Shortly before his death, my brother came into this office to speak with you about something. He’d noticed a discrepancy on some reports on your desk pertaining to numbers he’d handed in. He wanted to bring it to your attention to make you aware of any potential problems that you might not have noticed, especially since the inspections are handled through a Department of Defense contract. He knew that if you handed in inspection reports containing discrepancies, even accidentally, and they got flagged, the facility could lose its contract.”
As she spoke, she watched the man across from her grow increasingly uncomfortable. He folded his hands on the desk, then dropped his hands to his lap, shifted in his seat, looked around the room and anywhere else but at her. When the manager stared at the desk instead of looking her in the eye, she had a terrible sinking feeling.
Anthony Clarke knew exactly what was going on at his facility, and she felt more certain than ever that what Daniel said to him had gotten him killed.
“Do you remember that conversation, Mr. Clarke?” She glanced at Noel before looking back to the manager. Noel watched him carefully, and she noticed that his hand had crept inside his jacket toward his concealed weapon.
A moment of heavy silence fell over the office before Anthony spoke again. “Yes. I remember. Daniel spoke to me about this, bringing ridiculous accusations.” Yasmine’s ears perked up. She’d said nothing that specific, and neither had Daniel. “I told him he spoke crazy and if I heard that kind of talk bandied about on the shop floor, he’d be right out the door faster than he could walk.”
“Are you admitting that you threatened Mr. Browder?” Noel’s arm tensed. Yasmine held her breath.
Anthony turned his attention to Noel as if he’d only just noticed him in the room despite having spoken to him several times…as though he’d written Noel off until this moment. “Excuse me? And who do you think you are?”
Yasmine’s heart sank. Noel couldn’t lie once he’d been asked directly. Until now, he’d been acting as a friend and travel companion. With the manager’s question, his role shifted, and if word got back to the wrong people, he could be in a lot of trouble.
Noel reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out his badge, flipping it open and then sliding it back inside his pocket. “Noel Black, FBI.”
Anthony shot to his feet and pointed at the door. “Get out. You got no right to be in here.”
“Did you threaten Daniel Browder, Mr. Clarke?”
“I don’t have to talk to you.” He grabbed a pile of files off the desk and shoved them into a drawer, locked it, crossed his arms. “I want a lawyer.”
“You’re not being interrogated or arrested. Miss Browder came to ask a few questions about her brother. Now, what’s this about falsifying reports?”
The man’s face grew bright red. “Who told you that was happening? There’s no way you can know about that. You have no proof.”
“No, but my brother suspected it, and now we know the truth.” Yasmine’s head buzzed with adrenaline. Noel had used their suspicions to verbally coerce the man into an admission. “I said he came to talk to you about discrepancies on some papers he saw. Your response just confirmed that those discrepancies were actually false reports.”
Noel stood, matching Anthony’s stance. “So, you’ve been making false reports to the Department of Defense. Maybe sliding a few parts through inspection to increase output? How much extra is that putting in your pocket, Mr. Clarke? I’m guessing it’s more than pocket change, based on what we’ve seen here today.”
The manager’s jaw tensed so tightly that a thick blue vein stood out on his temple. “Get out! I’ll call the police! I’ll—”
“Everything all right in here?” Officer Wayne poked his head around the corner. “Black?”
“Who are you?” Anthony pointed at the officer. “What are you doing on my property? I’ll charge you all with trespassing! I’ll report everything to the captain! I’ll—”
Noel touched Yasmine on the shoulder, and she stood. “I think we have everything we came for,” Noel said. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Clarke. I suspect we’ll be seeing each other again soon.”
“You’ve invaded my privacy by coming here,” the man shouted behind them. Noel pushed Yasmine in front of him so that she wouldn’t have her back to the manager as they exited.
“Move slowly to the door,” Noel murmured, “then have the officers take you back to one of the vehicles. This man is unstable, and I want you out of here.”
Yasmine swallowed the rising lump in her throat and did as he said. She’d been right. She knew that now, even if Anthony Clarke hadn’t said as much. Daniel’s death hadn’t been an accident.
So why, instead of feeling validated about her suspicions, did she feel like things were about to get a whole lot worse?
* * *
As police officers ushered Yasmine to the car, Noel paid close attention to Anthony Clarke. They’d clearly rattled the man, but instead of acting ashamed, he’d turned angry—borderline enraged—and Noel didn’t want Yasmine anywhere close to what could become a volatile situation. Behind him, Noel heard Clarke follow them out of his office, the telltale tinny sound of a cell phone dialer echoing in the dim hallway. If only Noel could hang around and listen in on the conversation, figure out who Clarke was talking to. He’d already pushed the situation too far, however, and the next step involved getting Yasmine out of here and someplace safe.
He found which car she’d been stowed in and slid onto the seat next to her.
“You doing okay?”
She shrugged and stared out the window. “I guess.”
“You were right.” He reached across and hovered his hand over her knee, uncertain whether he should place it there to offer comfort or if it would make her upset instead. He pulled away, taking the safe route. “I mean, we don’t have physical evidence yet, but I’d think that conversation is enough to earn us a warrant.”
“On hearsay? He’ll deny everything.” Her voice had a distant, listless quality to it. It didn’t sound like her. He thought she’d be relieved that they were a step closer to the truth—a small step, but any progress helped.
“Look, I need to call my mentor and tell him what we learned. It might be enough to get the FBI involved, to make this an official investigation.”
“You really think so?” She finally turned her face toward him, but the hope in her voice wasn’t reflected in her expression. “They’ll send guys up from somewhere else, won’t they? I mean, you’re new. I’m not trying to be callous about it, Noel, but—”
“No, you’re right.” She made a good point. “But that’s not entirely a bad thing. If the FBI sends experienced agents to take over, I should be able to observe even if I can’t officially help. I don’t report to my assigned office until next week.” He pulled out his phone and dialed Special Agent John Crais.
“Black? I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“Hey, Crais. We went to the facility and talked to Anthony Clarke, the manager. The guy was jumpy, evasive. When Browder asked him about a conversation with her brother, the guy panicked and revealed information that we didn’t have—basically admitted to falsifying inspection reports, but we have no solid evidence. I think he’s keeping copies of the reports on the premises, however, or at least some papers that could be considered incriminating. He’s also got expensive tastes, though his facility doesn’t keep up the same image. Think there’s enough to get a warrant?”
“That is something.” Crais paused, and Noel heard the sound of tapping across a keyboard. “Any other relevant details?”
Noel glanced over at Yasmine, who once again regarded him with one eyebrow raised. He slipped his hand over the phone’s speaker and whispered to her. “Your face is going to stick like that one of these days.”
The mask broke, and a tiny smile crept across the corner of her mouth as she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted to see her smile, and how much he’d wanted to be the one to cause it to appear, until that moment.
“Black? Did Clarke say anything else?”
Noel snapped back into focus. “That’s about it, sir. He said that Daniel Browder spoke to him about an issue Browder discovered with the inspection numbers and made what Clarke called ridiculous accusations about falsified reports. That’s enough, isn’t it? We can take it from here? If we can jump on this before the military gets wind of it and tries to fold it under their own investigation—”
“Where are you now, Black?”
Noel’s words caught on his tongue. What did that have to do with anything? “I’m traveling back to the local precinct. Then we’ll move Browder to a safe place where she can rest and recover. Is there an FBI safe house in the area?”
“Sounds like we have a lot to talk about. Can you get away from the local police for a little while?”
“Sure, but I don’t know what good that’s going to do. They’ve been nothing but cooperative on this, even without it being officially our investigation.” Crais’s silence through the phone felt heavy and patronizing, and Noel felt his confidence falter. Stop it, he told himself. You’re not expected to know everything after only twenty weeks of training. That’s what having a mentor is for. “What’s the next step, sir?”
“There’s a safe house on the outskirts of Buffalo. You know how to find it. Meet me there in two hours.”
As much as Noel didn’t want to admit it, the thought of meeting Crais face-to-face brought considerable relief. Crais would know what to do. He’d know how to keep Yasmine safe while playing inside the lines of FBI jurisdiction. Noel didn’t have enough experience to do that yet, let alone skirt it in the way he’d done by going inside the Newtech Inspections building.
“Done. See you there.”
“Black?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell anyone. From what you’ve said so far, you don’t know who you can or can’t trust. Somebody knew how to find that woman you’re with, so think about who you’ve been spending time with these past twenty-four hours. Who has had access to your location? Who has known exactly where you were since this began? Who’s been pulling strings to get eyes on this woman?”
Noel’s breath caught as Crais ended the call. The man made an excellent point. Noel flicked his gaze to Officer Wayne in the driver’s seat and then to Yasmine.
“What?” She leaned her head against the window.
“Don’t do that.” He tugged on her shoulder. “Sit up. That’s not good for your injuries, and it makes you a bigger target.”
“The windows are tinted, Noel. It’s fine. And I’m fine.” He shook his head, and she stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “What is it?”
He tipped his chin toward Officer Wayne and then back to the cars behind them. He kept his voice low and quiet, hoping he wouldn’t be heard over the crackling noise of the police radio on the dash.
“We might have been going about this the wrong way. Think about it. Who knew your whereabouts this whole time? Since that first incident at your apartment?”
She shook her head. “You’re being obtuse. I have no idea.”
He hoped that Crais was wrong about this. Noel didn’t think his instincts were that bad, but then again, he’d been holding a badge for all of a day and a half. And he had to admit a bias for the work of local police, having spent time as a police officer himself elsewhere in the state. But John Crais had been at this for a long time, a very long time, and had become a figurehead at the Buffalo field office as special agent in charge. Noel was very fortunate to have been paired with him as a mentor, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint the man before they’d even officially begun working together.
He inclined his head a second time toward Officer Wayne. Him? No. A string-puller, Crais had said.
“The police?” Yasmine mouthed.
Noel nodded and pointed his finger up. Higher. “The captain.”