She flicked a quick glance at the two burly, bearded men and caught their leers. “Ugh. OK, if holding your hand will keep them away, fine, but don’t insult me with any more lies.”
“There are a few things I didn’t lie about.”
“Really? Your punching bag is in the backseat, so I guess that wasn’t a lie.”
“Right. That was true, and I love football.” His gaze dropped to their clasped hands where his thumb rubbed circles on her knuckles. “And that’s not all. I hated deceiving you because developing a relationship with you was more than a job. It was real.”
She jerked her hand free. “That’s not fair. I—“
The waitress approached the table and set down Sadie’s small chef’s salad and Bowen’s tacos. “I’ll be back with more tea. Will there be anything else?”
Bowen dolloped salsa on his tacos and flashed his dimpled smile at her. “Nope. This looks good. Thanks.”
Sadie shook her head, and the waitress left. After he’d delivered her to Cal and located Hannah, Sadie wasn’t sure she wanted to see him again. His mysterious past, the way he’d found her, made her think there was more than a private investigator here. Her heart whispered an anguished plea that he was trustworthy. She sipped tea and stared out the window. Eighteen-wheelers chugged away from the diesel pumps. A scrawny blackbird pecked at the gravel along the sidewalk.
A dark blue sports car like Kyle’s pulled into the lot.
Her blood turned as cold as the tea in her glass. Sweat gathered under her wig.
She set the glass down and tapped Bowen’s hand. “Look out the window.”
“Is it Kyle?” He stared. “We have to get out of here.”
Grabbing the bag of clothes and her purse, Sadie slid out of the seat.
But instead of following her, Bowen pointed. “It’s not Kyle.”
An Asian man climbed out of the car.
“Can we still leave? I—”
“Of course.” Bowen motioned to the waitress and after she gave him their ticket, he slung his bags over his shoulder.
They hurried out of the restaurant, dumped their belongings in the pickup, and set off with Bowen behind the wheel.
Although Kyle had not found her, knots of curdled fear filled Sadie’s stomach. Her gaze drifted to Bowen’s strong hands on the wheel. He held her life in those hands.
His phone beeped and he answered. “Yes, she’s here. I’ll put it on speaker.”
Once he set the phone in its holder, a male voice filled the cab. “It’s all over the news. Debra Johnson is wanted as a person of interest in the murder of Miles Griffin.”
16
Tension sizzled in the cab.
“You’re safe,” Bowen said.
“But the whole world’s looking for me.”
“No. They’re looking for Debra.”
Although previous assignments had landed him in precarious positions, his face had never been plastered on a wanted poster. He had no idea what that was like. What could he say to reassure her? “We’ve been careful since we left Austin. No one’s going to find Debra.”
Still no response from her.
“I have many faults, but one thing I’m good at—my job. Keeping you safe.” Why did he keep putting his size elevens in his mouth? “Please, Sadie, give me a chance. Yes, this is a job, but like I told you, my feelings for you aren’t part of the assignment.”
Silence from her side of the vehicle.
“I promise.” He shot a glance at her. “Talk to me. Please.”
“At this point in my upside down life, I don’t care what you say. We have to be together, and I appreciate your help. But know this, Bowen Boudine. I’m sick of lies—yours, mine—all of them. Whatever the outcome of this venture, our paths will take opposite directions. After I talk with Cal and find Hannah, I’m not sure I want you around. I…you lied to me. I know you did it because of your job, but…” With arms folded, she sat back and faced the side window.
Bowen let twenty miles pass before stealing a glance at her. Her fingers twitched, and although half concealed by a curtain of hair, her jaw clenched.
Cal had supplied few details of the events leading up to her placement in WITSEC. But to protect her he needed as much information as possible. He cleared his throat and focused on a line of charter buses ahead. “You didn’t get a chance to eat much. Are you hungry?”
“No. I can wait until we stop for gas again.”
“Let me know. I’ll stop anytime.”
A minute of thick silence passed.
“I’m sorry for my tirade. I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.”
“I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Everything. Was she ready to tell him about her life? His cell phone rang again, and he pulled it from the holder. “Hello.”
“This is Bravo Delta Tango, six-three-one-seven.”
“Go ahead. What’s the situation?” Bowen mouthed to Sadie, “This is about Kyle.”
“Nelson was not at the location you provided. A neighbor—Pete Williams—was instrumental in releasing him.”
“No kidding?” Kyle and Pete in cahoots? Bowen shook his head. “And were the authorities notified?”
“Nope.”
“What about the U. S. Marshal’s death. Discover anything?”
The voice on the line hesitated and then continued. “Don’t know what you got yourself into, but this is a big mess. Sources told me the Austin Marshal’s office has a major leak. Your murdered agent had several witnesses whose identities were compromised.”
Bowen whistled. That might explain why the authorities wanted to locate Debra Johnson.
His caller asked, “Anything else I can do on this end?”
“No. That’s all for now. If you hear more, give me a call. Thanks.” Bowen returned the phone to its dashboard holder. “Bad news from Austin.” He repeated the information his contact had provided.
Her eyes widened when he mentioned Pete Williams. “Do you think he and Kyle were working together?” She told him about her concerns regarding the men.
“They could be in cahoots. But what concerns me more is Griffin.” After Bowen related the problems discovered with Griff’s witnesses, Sadie’s skin paled. “I know you considered him a friend, but could he have turned traitor?”
“Never. He’s been my contact in Austin for over a year. Why would he betray me now? No. I won’t believe it.”
“I was going to suggest you contact the WITSEC office in L.A., but who knows how far the leak has traveled.”
“I trust Cal, and he trusts you. We’re on our own until I find Hannah. Then I’ll make contact.”
“Speaking of your past, I’d like you to tell me what happened. What led to your identity change? I was out of the country at the time and didn’t keep up with U.S. news. Are you up to it?”
A heavy silence permeated the space. Had he asked too much?
“The details are never far from my mind, no matter how hard I try to bury them.”
“Take your time. L.A. is four hundred miles away.”
She took off her sunglasses and rubbed her eyes. “Five years ago Aaron and I opened a technology consulting business. Our graduate degrees are in software engineering, but we had experience in many areas. We could handle pretty much anything in the industry.” She shifted in the seat and picked at a thread on her jeans. “August three years ago, Brady Holdings hired us to revamp their accounting system.”
“I’ve heard of Brady Insurance. Big office building on Wilshire, right?”
“Uh-huh. Beautiful glass façade hiding a mountain of corruption. Reminds me of a Bible verse about the Pharisees being like whitewashed tombs that look good on the outside, but inside they’re full of dead men’s bones.”
“Nasty image.” Bowen massaged his temple. Sadie’s mention of this scripture struck like a javelin at his heart. Didn’t that describe him? All right on the outside but full of sin and guilt on the inside? He gave Sadie a nod. “Go on.”<
br />
“One evening I worked late—Aaron had already gone home. On my way to the employee exit, I overheard Hank Otis and Duke arguing. Hank was Brady’s Chief Security Officer.”
“Duke?”
“Levasseur. The owner of Brady Holding. He insisted he gave Hank a thumb drive pouch, and Hank denied it. Anyway, they bickered back and forth and finally Duke said that if the Malones got a hold of it, Hank would suffer severe consequences.”
Bowen glanced at Sadie. Her rigid body told him plenty. “I’m sorry, Sadie. You don’t have to carry on.”
“It’s OK. I left without them seeing me and fled home and told Aaron. The next day there was a malfunction in the tech room. While working on the problem, I found a small black zippered pouch half hidden under a metal cart.”
“It contained the missing thumb drive?”
“Two of them. I should have left the pouch there, but Duke’s threatening words spurred my curiosity. I took it to the office we’d been assigned and plugged one of the drives into the computer.”
“And you found—?”
“The mother lode. With Aaron keeping watch on our office door, I scanned the information. The first drive listed financial transactions that had nothing to do with accounting programs we’d had access to. The second one contained names, dates, and dollar amounts going back years. It also had transactions in code. Too much for us to decipher at my desk, and too dangerous.” She glanced at Bowen, her eyes sad and lackluster.
“I always carry extra flash drives. I copied all the files, erased any trace of my actions, and continued about the day’s work as usual.”
“I can’t believe it. Little Debra Johnson, the plant expert, is really a cyber-spy. What was in code?”
“Aaron and I concluded Duke had two accounting systems. One auditors had access to, and the one I’d discovered. When we deciphered the code, we found transactions detailing major drug deals, arms shipments, pays and owes—“
“Pays and what?”
“Pays and owes. Records of money laundering.”
“I learned something new today. Please continue.”
“The worst information we found was details of his importation of underage girls from Latin America.” Sadie shuddered. “The whole operation still gives me the creeps.”
“All of this was conducted out of Brady Holdings? Who was running the show?”
“The Levasseur family. Duke was in charge, but his kids, Lonnie and Nicole, were involved.”
“What happened next?”
Sadie poked at a spot on her jeans. “We checked with an LAPD friend at church who worked for the OCID, the Organized Crime Investigation Division. He said they already had Brady Holdings on their radar. We gave the flash drives to them, and they asked that we stay in the company to gather more information. We delayed the completion of the project so we could tape conversations, take cell phone pictures, and gather more evidence. Because the crimes crossed state lines, the FBI got involved.”
“And that’s how you ended up in WITSEC?”
A quick nod.
Bowen slowed as the traffic through Phoenix increased. “Duke’s in prison, right? What happened to his kids?”
“Duke was sentenced to fifty years in prison, but there wasn’t enough evidence to tie Lonnie and Nicole to the illegal activities at Brady Holdings. Lonnie’s still in charge of the above board company—insurance and stock trading.”
“So you’re in WITSEC because of Lonnie and Nicole?”
“Yes. Although they stayed out of the spotlight, I received numerous threats during the trial. I’m sure they came from Lonnie, but we couldn’t prove it.”
The setting sun shone right into the vehicle. Bowen lowered the visor and sat a little straighter. “Can you fill in the details on what happened to Aaron and Hannah?”
Sadie nibbled a nail and then clasped her hands. “Aaron and I completed the job at Brady, we thought without Duke becoming suspicious, but afterward he kept calling our company office. He even called the house.”
“Did you report his harassment?”
“Of course. During the investigation, additional police patrols were sent to our neighborhood in Culver City. Aaron and I took extra precautions, but…”
Anger burned in his gut. No wonder she slumped in the seat. He hated to prod, but he needed the last chapter. “Tell me the rest, Sadie.”
She placed both hands over her heart as if to prevent its escape. “You already know bits and pieces, but I’ll tell you the whole story. Hannah was four and a half, in a pre-school program close to the office. Aaron picked her up, and witnesses stated his vehicle was followed by a dark SUV. He called me and said he was being forced off the road, and that’s the last time I spoke to him. His car smashed through the bridge railing and landed in the rain-swollen Santa Ana River.” Sadie shuddered and air rattled out of her lungs as she exhaled. “Dark blue paint transfer on scrapes and dents indicated he’d been rammed from behind…” Her voice faded. After a long pause, her dull, flat words barely reached his ears. “I was immediately given federal protection, but it was too late for my family.”
Bowen let the silence between them act as a balm.
“Did they ever find out who rammed Aaron’s vehicle?”
She drew in a jagged breath as if she’d been sobbing. “No. But during the trial someone slipped an envelope under the door when I was in the ladies’ restroom. It contained a blurred photograph of Hannah with a terrified expression, staring out of the window of Aaron’s car.”
17
Bowen pulled up next to a pump and turned off the engine. The harsh lights of the gas station filled the cab with a sharp fluorescent glow. He glanced at Sadie as she stirred. She’d slept through their entry into California, and another border patrol stop.
She squinted and stretched. “Where are we?”
“This is Blythe—a few miles across the California border.” Bowen ran his fingers through his hair and then jammed the cap on his head. “Please wait for me, and then we’ll enter the store together.”
“OK.” Her discarded sunglasses lay on the console. She placed them in her purse.
Bowen climbed out of the pickup and entered the convenience store to prepay. Rubbing his tight shoulders, he tromped to the pump and filled the gas tank. He returned to the store with Sadie. After using the facilities, they purchased barbeque sub-sandwiches, bottled water, and large cups of coffee, under the cold-eyed stare of the elderly clerk. Bowen kept his head down and trusted Sadie’s disguise would thwart anyone searching the store’s surveillance footage.
As they returned to the pickup, Sadie asked, “Want me to take over?”
“No. I’m fine. We’ll be in L.A. in three or four hours.” Bowen opened the door for Sadie and held her cup while she buckled herself in.
He maneuvered back onto I-10. When he’d finished eating his sandwich, he crumpled up the wrapper and tossed it over the seat. “I appreciate you telling me your story. I’m sorry if it opened old wounds.”
“Being with Cal in L.A. again will probably sling me back to the past. It’s inevitable.”
“You have no other family in L.A., right?”
“Cal is all I have. And Hannah, if she’s…” Her voice trailed off.
“It’ll be close to midnight when we reach the safe house. We—”
“What safe house? Aren’t we going straight to Cal?”
“You said you trusted me, so this is the plan, and you have to promise to follow it. OK?” Sadie would not end up like Patricia.
“Promise.”
“Once in L.A., I’ll take you to a safe house. In the morning, we’ll contact Cal and arrange to meet in a secure location. After I check out the story of the Adams woman, I’ll figure out how to get you to see Hannah.”
“Why all the secrecy with Caleb?”
Bowen glanced at her. In the muted light from the instrument panel he noted the tight line of her lips and the furrow between her eyes. “Please listen with your head and not
your heart. I have no idea what you’re going through, but be patient a few more days. We have to make sure no one knows you’re in California.” For a moment his role as protector and friend blurred. He funneled his thoughts back on the job. Keep Sadie safe. “By now people at work have realized something’s wrong. And who knows what your neighbor Pete will do? We have to take all precautions.”
“And Hannah? When can I see her?”
“Depends on what my contacts have discovered about Ms. Adams. We have to be positive about identification. Maybe tomorrow.”
Yanking off the wig, she threw it on the floor. She shook her head, freeing her curls. Deep groans erupted and she pounded her knees.
“Sadie, I’m sorry.” He had no words of comfort. An intense desire to hold her and press his lips against hers hit him broadside. Gripping the wheel with one hand, he slid the other over her shoulders. “You’ve got to be strong a while longer.”
Sadie took the discarded wig and straightened it on her head. She scrunched up in the corner, her misery evident.
Bowen punched a radio button, selecting a pop-rock station. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the beat.
“Please turn it down. I want to talk to you.”
He turned off the radio. “Sure. What’s on your mind?” Stupid question. “I mean—“
“You don’t have to walk on tiptoe around me. I’m so used to being independent, but I need your advice.”
“How can I help?”
Her head was bowed, and she twisted her hands in her lap. “It’s about Griff. I feel responsible for his death somehow. When he used the code word, I should have…” Her voice cracked.
“What could you have done? The news report indicated he was shot soon after receiving a call, which we assume came from you.” Bowen took her hand. “He knew the risks his job involved. He gave you a warning, and you heeded it.”
A heavy-duty sigh whooshed from her lips. “I know, I know.” She pulled her hand away and brushed the hair from her face. “And now, do I contact WITSEC in Los Angeles? I don’t know what to do. I can’t think straight.”
Weep In The Night Page 12
