“No problem and I don’t want you to worry. I know it can be frustrating when our guys are away on business,” Phil said. “Sometimes when Preston is away he’s in a bad area and I can’t get hold of him for days. Just last month I needed his opinion on—”
“Thank you, Phil,” I interrupted as I opened the door to the back seat for Wookie. “You’ve been a big help. Do me a favor and if you see Garrett again could you give me a call? It’s important.”
“Sure.” He nodded seriously. “Absolutely.”
Phil was rambling about keeping an eagle eye out for all activity on the street when I offered him a half wave and walked to my motel room door. Inside, Wookie jumped onto the bed, circled and then collapsed.
My head was reeling with the fact that Garrett had come by the house that very morning. He would’ve seen the disarray—the flooring torn up, the giant fans drying out the damp rooms. More important, he would’ve seen I wasn’t there, would’ve been able to deduce why, and still didn’t reach out. I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to wrap my head around what could possibly be going on, and nothing I came up with made sense except I knew for certain now that something was terribly wrong.
I dozed fitfully throughout the night, and the next morning I woke up with a jolt. A loud noise startled me, and I looked around the room, trying to orient myself to my surroundings. I was still dressed in the same clothes and with my shoes on as if I’d keeled over from exhaustion mid-thought. I was on my feet and gasping when a bang sounded again. Wookie growled and barked once. It was with relief that I realized the people in the room next door were coming and going from their room and slamming the door as they went.
“It’s okay,” I told Wookie, drawing a deep breath in myself.
I dug my phone out of my pocket, disappointed once again to see there were no messages or calls from Garrett but there’d been a few texts from Agent Powel. I’d promised to call her back after sending her a picture of the inferno engulfing my Jeep but never did.
I called her now. “Sorry I didn’t call back,” I told her as a greeting.
“You can’t just send me a picture of your friggin’ car on fire and then not tell me what the hell’s going on!” she shouted.
“Yeah...sorry.” I dragged my fingers through my hair and got to my feet. Wookie was at the door and wanted out. “I went to the house to look at hardwood samples. When I came out, my Jeep was blazing.”
I snapped a leash on Wookie’s collar and pocketed the motel key.
“You went to look at flooring samples in the middle of the goddam night?”
“It wasn’t the middle of the night.” I started walking across the motel parking lot. “It was just before twelve. I couldn’t sleep. Excuse me if I’ve been a little stressed. You may have heard that my FBI boyfriend is missing. Or not.” I sighed, thinking about Garrett being at the house and not trying to reach out to me or even leave me a note. “I don’t even know what’s going on.”
Wookie peed long and hard at the first patch of grass he could find on the side of the lot. Silence stretched on while I waited for Agent Powel to reply.
“Hello?” I thought maybe we’d been disconnected.
“I’m here. Just trying to figure out if you’re crazy or stupid.”
“Look,” I bit back. “I do not appreciate the insults. Something is definitely wrong! There is no way in hell Garrett would go this long without contacting me unless someone or something was making it impossible for him to do that.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” I heard her blow out a breath. “Do me a favor and just back off, okay? Your little visit to Jerry Mayer almost blew the cover off our agents in the bar. Just stop your constant poking around. It’s only making this harder.”
A squirrel ran up a nearby tree and Wookie nearly yanked my arm out of the socket trying to chase it. He was barking like a lunatic and Agent Powel got sick of trying to talk above him, so she shouted into the phone that she’d talk to me later. I hadn’t even told her that Garrett had been spotted going back home yesterday morning. I wondered if she already knew.
My phone was low on juice so I did a halfhearted jog around the block with Wookie and then headed back to the motel. While my phone was plugged in I made a call to my insurance company and tried to explain what happened to the Jeep. The person on the phone seemed pretty shocked that my vehicle was torched. He wasn’t the only one.
Once that was dealt with I texted Tracey.
Can you drive me to a rental car place this morning?
Sure. What’s up with the Jeep?
I replied by sending her a picture of it in flames.
Holy shit!
She called then, and I gave her the abbreviated version.
“I don’t like this one bit,” she said. “Garrett is missing, some guy pulled a gun on you and now you have your car blown up! What the hell is going on?”
I wish I knew the answer.
While I waited for Tracey to arrive I sent a text to Meg.
Did you hear from Sid?
But there was no reply. When Tracey arrived to pick me up she rapped twice on the door to the motel room. Wookie barked in reply and I looked through the peephole to confirm it was her.
I opened the door and stepped outside. I was surprised to see Craig sitting in the front passenger seat of her little car. He looked like a giant in the small car.
“Craig?” I turned to her in question. “I thought you two were on a break?”
“I got lonely.” She shrugged. “And he offered to come over and make me breakfast. Who doesn’t like a man who will drive over just to fix you a meal?”
Garrett made the best breakfasts in the world. The thought caused a painful ache in my chest.
She leaned in and sniffed me.
“Why do you smell like barbecue?”
“I haven’t showered, and I slept in these clothes. That’s the smell of my Jeep going boom.” She brought me into a hug and patted my back and I added, “The neighbor said Garrett came home yesterday. He said he saw him run in the house and was only there for a couple minutes before leaving again. Why would he do that and not leave me a note or call me?”
“I don’t know.” She squeezed me harder. “It’ll be okay. He’ll come home. You’ll get a new vehicle. Your house will be fixed, and everything will be perfect.”
“Thanks.” I took a deep breath and extricated myself from her tight embrace. “I hope you’re right.”
I climbed into the back seat of the car and told Tracey where to take me.
“Hope you don’t mind me saying,” Craig said, “but I think you should just let the authorities find your boyfriend before you get yourself killed.”
“You told him?” I glared at Tracey.
“Sorry, my defenses were weakened by French toast and bacon.” She smiled at me in the rearview mirror.
“Thank you for your opinion, Craig.” I bit off each syllable with as much restrained anger as I could muster. “If the person missing was Tracey here, I have a feeling you wouldn’t be so happy to sit back and let others handle it.”
“You’re right.” He bobbed his head and reached for Tracey’s hand. “I’d be turning over every boulder to try and find her.”
“Aw-w-w.” Tracey grinned at him.
Oh brother.
My stomach growled loudly as we pulled up to the car rental building.
“I heard that.” Craig turned in the front seat to regard me. “Follow us back to Tracey’s and I’ll whip you up something great.”
“I appreciate the lift, but no thanks. I’ve got things I need to do.”
I walked into the car rental office and a few minutes and a ton of paperwork later, I was walking out the door with keys to a new midsized car. Tracey and Craig were still there. She rolled down her window and I approached.
“Yes?”
&
nbsp; “We just wanted to say we’re behind you one hundred percent. If you need backup, we’ll be there for you. Where are you going today? We’ll be your wingmen.”
“Thanks.” I straightened. “I’m just going to go back to the house and talk to the contractors. I don’t have any desire to get shot at or blown up today but, if I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”
“Oh.” Tracey frowned in disappointment.
“Call us if you need anything,” Craig said, leaning forward to give me two thumbs up.
“I will,” I promised.
After I climbed inside the dark gray rental car, I spent a few minutes acquainting myself with the buttons and dials before I started it up. I hated the way it handled, not that it was bad, just that it wasn’t my Jeep. I was too low to the ground and there were too many buttons that weren’t like the ones I was used to. But it would serve the purpose.
I pulled into the driveway of my house and all that remained was a huge sooty spot on the driveway where my Jeep once was and the blackened grass on the sides. A few different construction vehicles were parked on the street in front of the house, and the doors and windows were open. From inside I could hear workers talking loudly to each other over the sound of power tools.
When I walked inside, a guy whose clothes were like a camo experiment in dried paint turned off the power vac he was using and walked up to me.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m Julie. This is my house.”
“Right.” He wiped his hands on his jeans and offered one to me. “Sorry, we were told to keep an eye out for strangers wanting to come inside. Apparently, there was some trouble last night.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” I took a breath. “Speaking of that, my boyfriend supposedly came by really early yesterday morning before any of you were here. He didn’t happen to leave a note or anything, did he?”
The guy frowned and shook his head. “We did see your note about the flooring though, and the order has already been placed. It’s super easy now. Flooring will be here in the next couple days and then wham, bam it’ll be installed and you’re in like Flynn.”
“Thanks. Don’t mind me.” I sidestepped around him. “I’ve just got some paperwork I have to take care of in the back.”
“Cool.” He bobbed his head in a nod, then flipped the switch on his shop vac again.
It occurred to me as I was squeezing between the furniture in the hall that with all the workers coming and going, a note from Garrett could easily have gone missing. But he was a smart guy. He would’ve seen the state of the house and not left a message out in the open.
I scooted around the sofa standing on end outside the den, and went into Garrett’s office. If he’d been here, maybe he left me a message, a clue or a trail of friggin’ breadcrumbs here.
The first thing I noticed was that drawers of his desk weren’t closed all the way, which struck me as odd. I was the one who lazily only half closed a drawer, and Garrett was the one who’d come behind me and nudge drawers the rest of the way shut. It was one of those quirky little things in a relationship that you discover when living with someone. But Phil had said Garrett was in a hurry.
I sat in his chair and, one by one, opened the drawers all the way and looked inside. Paperwork and all kinds of writing utensils that were normally neatly stacked were tossed about. I started at the top drawer and carefully moved the writing utensils and notepads around. I did the same with the next drawers, but nothing appeared to be added or removed. But when I tried to close the bottom drawer, it was jammed and wouldn’t close all the way. After removing a large stack of paper, I saw a handgun was angled in the back corner, blocking the drawer from closing. Odd. Garrett kept his weapons in a gun safe. Never in his desk.
Licking my lips, I gently brought the gun out and tucked it into my waistband and pulled my shirt over the bulge. He’d obviously meant for me to find it. On top of loose papers in the drawer was a small fluorescent pink sticky note. A note in Garrett’s handwriting said:
Don’t contact me on my phone. Don’t look for me. Trust no one!
My hands shook as I peeled the note from the paperwork and held it to my heart.
“Hey, I just wanted—”
I let out a small eep! when the voice sounded behind me.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” A worker covered in dried paint looked sheepish in the doorway.
“No problem.” I cleared my throat as I stuffed the note in the front pocket of my jeans. “Just deep in thought.”
“Yeah, well, wanted to let you know that I heard your flooring will actually be ready for pickup later today. We’ll be installing it tomorrow.”
“That’s great. Thanks.” I picked up a large notepad on Garrett’s desk as if that was what I’d come for. “Well, I’m all done here so I’ll leave you to it.”
I followed him out of the room. Outside I hesitated because my eyes were frantically looking for my Jeep until my brain adjusted and reminded me the Jeep was ash. I was walking to the rental car when Phil came out of his house and jogged over to me.
“Your Jeep got hauled away by the tow company at the crack of dawn.” He grinned at me. “In case you were wondering.”
“Okay. Thanks. Yeah, I came by just to check on that and—” Trust no one “—to make sure the workers saw my note about the hardwood. And, good news, it’s in stock and might be installed tomorrow.”
“That’s great!” He was eying the notepad I still had in my hand.
I held it up to him. “The thing about motels is that they only give you a tiny message pad, so I figured I’d grab this while I was here. Going to write out my ideas about other renovations. You know, maybe it’s time to do the bathrooms too.”
“Hey, if you ever want to come inside our place and get some ideas, then you’re welcome to. The previous owners did an amazing job of the bathroom renos.”
“Thanks. Sure.” I nodded and smiled stupidly as I walked around the car and opened the driver’s door. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
He was still standing at the curb staring after me as I pulled away and drove off down the street.
Back at the motel I shoved the handgun into my backpack and took the tiny pink sticky note out of my pocket and stuck it to the front of the notepad. I stared at it hard.
“Oh God, Garrett, what the hell is going on?”
I pinched my eyes shut but still the tears slipped beneath my lashes. Wookie came over and placed his muzzle on my lap and I sobbed quietly as I rubbed his thick head.
My phone rang, and it was Agent Powel.
“Just wanted to give you an update,” she said. “I talked to the other agents working the Flores Cartel investigation and they say they have eyes on every person remotely connected to drug trafficking in the area, including all connections at Flash Imports.”
“So, they’re looking out for Garrett then? They’ll call you if they spot him?”
“It’s tricky.” She paused, and I could hear her starting up her car followed by a moment when her phone switched over to her Bluetooth. “I know you’re worried, but I don’t want to throw him under the bus, know what I mean?”
“No. I don’t know what you mean.” I rubbed the last tears from my eyes. “He could be in trouble...he... I don’t know. He could need help.”
“He’s supposed to be on leave from this case, right? If he’s just doing some quiet checking on his own because of family loyalty, or if he’s just got Sid squirreled away keeping him safe for now, I don’t want to get him in trouble over that. So I’m not putting up red flags all over screaming to other agents to go looking for Garrett Pierce, got it?”
I wanted to argue and scream that I wanted every agent on the lookout for Garrett and finding him to bring him home.
Trust no one!
Did that message also mean his partner? I doubted it bu
t it could mean any other fed she might be in contact with so I needed to agree with her method.
“Okay.” I sighed. “I get it.”
“Good. I’ve gotta run. Damn baby is kicking me in the kidneys and I’ve gotta pee like a damn racehorse.”
The call ended before I could respond.
My stomach was aching but I realized with some food and coffee I might be able to form a clearer plan of action. I tore off a couple sheets from the notepad, leaving Garrett’s sticky note message on the bigger sheet and put both and a pen in my purse. I left the room telling Wookie I wouldn’t be long. As a shortcut to a restaurant around the corner, I angled across the parking lot and cut between a break in the tall cedar hedge.
I chose a booth in a far corner. The waitress arrived with a menu and proceeded to tell me the specials, but I cut her off.
“Coffee, two eggs over easy, bacon and toast.” Then added, “Please and thanks.”
She hurried off to take care of that and I waited until she returned with my coffee before I took the papers out of my purse. I stared again at Garrett’s note warning me not to contact him by phone or trust anyone. Again I felt my heart pound but I calmed it with deep breaths as I smoothed out the notepaper I’d torn off from the pad.
Garrett was a heavy writer and I could feel the indentation from whatever his last notes had been. My eyes went immediately to a word on the center of the page that looked an awful lot like the words sweet pea. I held the note up to the light. The various indents and scribbles were illegible, but that word had been written all in block letters and underlined. I got out my phone and entered sweet pea into the search.
The first thing to come up were, of course, sweet pea flowers. A few minutes later I’d read all about the climbing plant and how it was in the genus Lathyrus and originally from Italy. Nothing of interest but I did pause when I read a bit about the seeds being toxic. I highly doubted that Garrett was being poisoned by sweet pea seeds, but I scribbled a note on the papers nonetheless.
Next thing on my internet search was that sweet pea was a Benjamin Moore paint color that was kind of a putrid green.
A Grave Peril Page 15
