Summer Rain (Lightning Strikes Book 3)

by Barbara Freethy

  She wanted to go. She was getting as caught up in the mystery as he was. She also wanted to know what he and Erica had talked about at lunch, but she couldn't ask him about that now. Still, leaving the office that early could raise some suspicion. Oh, what the hell—they were suspicious already.

  "I'll go with you," she said, giving in to probably a really bad impulse.

  "I can pick you up at work."

  "I'd rather meet you. Text me the address."

  "It's coming now. See you soon."

  She set down her phone and tried to finish up some work, but she couldn't concentrate. She was too tense and now having second and third thoughts about going with Patrick.

  Finally, the hands on the clock made it to four. She left her cubicle and managed to get out of the office without anyone stopping her. She took the metro across town, then walked four blocks to the address of the home that Patrick had given her. The house was a modest two-story home near Rock Creek Park. Patrick got out of his car as she walked down the street.

  "Hi," she said, wondering if she'd ever stop getting butterflies in her stomach when she saw him. Today, he wore jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, a pair of sexy aviator glasses. It was ridiculous how attractive he was.

  "Thanks for coming," Patrick said.

  "Is he here?"

  "There's a man inside. I saw him go into the house about fifteen minutes ago. I got here early to check things out. His name is Matt Walker. He's fifty-three years old and ex-Navy, like your dad. He still flies for the same charter service that my mother used."

  "Do you know what you want to ask him?"

  "Somewhat," Patrick said. "Let's see where it goes."

  "You like to wing it, don't you?"

  "Sometimes the best information comes from the most unexpected moment, comment, or question. I try to remember that when it doesn't feel like I'm getting anywhere."

  They walked up to the front door and rang the bell. A moment later, a man answered. His gray hair was cut very short. He had a square face, a strong jaw, and sharp eyes. He looked ex-military, Dani thought. He also looked annoyed.

  "I'm not buying anything and I'm not interested in changing my religion," he said.

  "We're not selling or preaching," Patrick said quickly. "Are you Matt Walker?"

  "Who wants to know?"

  "My name is Patrick Kane. My mother was Jackie Kane. She died on a plane that you were supposed to pilot eight years ago."

  The man tensed, the blood draining out of his face. "I told the investigators everything I knew."

  "I know," Patrick said. "I'm not here in any official capacity. I just want to understand what happened to my mom's plane, and I haven't been able to get many people to talk to me about it."

  "I wasn't there. I don't know any more than the investigators, who had far more access than I did to all the data."

  "Could we come in for a minute?" Patrick asked.

  Matt hesitated a long minute, then said, "I suppose."

  "This is Dani Monroe," Patrick added, as they walked into the house. "She's a friend."

  He gave a nod and led them into his living room.

  As they settled into their seats, Matt said, "What is it you think I can tell you?"

  Patrick leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "You were sick the day of the flight. What happened? When did you know you weren't well enough to go to work?"

  "I got ill a little after midnight—stomach flu. The flight was scheduled for ten a.m. I called the dispatcher around two in the morning and said I couldn't do it."

  "Did you know the pilot who took the flight?" Dani interjected.

  "No, I had never met him. He had recently joined the company. He'd only flown one or two charters before that, but he did have a lot of experience. He was former Air Force."

  "Did you read through all of the investigative findings?" Patrick asked.

  "The ones that were made available to me," Matt said. "I was stunned when the aircraft went down. I'd flown that plane and that route a dozen times. However, the storm conditions were difficult, and it appeared that there was a power outage that took out several important navigational systems." He paused. "I'm very sorry about your mother. I had flown her several times, and she was a very nice woman, very kind to all the people who worked for her and with her."

  "I appreciate you saying that," Patrick said.

  When Patrick seemed at a loss for words after Matt's comment, she jumped in. "You said you had the stomach flu—but I thought there was speculation that it was food poisoning."

  "I had eaten take-out from my favorite Vietnamese restaurant that evening, so it was possible, but I'd eaten there many times before that without any problems. Not that that matters, I guess. You can pick up a bug anywhere." He paused. "It sounds like you think I had a reason for not getting on the flight, that I had some knowledge of what was to come. It's not the first time that's been suggested to me. The FBI agents who spoke to me surfaced that theory as well. But it's not true. I was sick and that's the only reason I didn't get on that flight."

  There was not a hint of evasion or insincerity in his eyes. She didn't know if he was a practiced liar or completely innocent, but it was difficult to doubt him. "You said you ordered take-out from this restaurant quite frequently."

  "Yes, several times a week. My wife worked a lot and I was never good in the kitchen. But I was very good at calling out for food."

  "Did you call the restaurant directly or did you use a service?"

  "I used a meal delivery service—Kincaid's. The FBI also spoke to them. The delivery person had delivered food to my house many times in the past. They couldn't find any evidence that someone poisoned my food." He gave them a tired, sad smile. "I don't know what you're looking for or why you're looking now, but the FBI did their job. I think it was just random luck that left me at home and put Carruthers in the cockpit."

  "There were a lot of conspiracy theories about the crash," Patrick put in. "Did you think any of them had merit?"

  "There wasn't as much hard data as I would have liked to have seen," Matt admitted. "Carruthers shouldn't have had problems with that storm. The plane shouldn't have lost power. Whenever we flew high-level passengers, there were extra layers of security. Do I have questions? Sure. But I also don't see anything I can disagree with. I wasn't on the plane. So I don't know what they were facing, and that's the problem for all the investigators." He paused. "What do you think happened?"

  "I don't think it was an accident," Patrick said.

  "But you don't have any proof it was anything else?"

  "Not yet. But I'm not done looking."

  "I wish you luck then. If there's something to be found, I hope you find it. That crash has haunted me for years. I've wondered a million times if I'd been the one at the controls, would I have found a way to change the outcome. But who knows? I might be dead, too."

  "Thanks for your time," Patrick said, standing up.

  "We appreciate it," Dani added, shaking Matt's hand, before leaving the house.

  They walked out to the car and got inside before uttering a word to each other.

  "I don't think it was just random luck Matt wasn't on that plane," Patrick said to her.

  "Really? He seemed pretty confident in his answers, and he definitely knew why we were asking the questions."

  "That did make him seem honest," Patrick agreed. "He was very smooth, very charming, disarming."

  She frowned. "I think he was telling the truth."

  "Well, you might be right."

  "What do you know about the replacement pilot?"

  "Not much. Sean Carruthers flew for the Air Force and had recently gotten into commercial aviation. As Matt said, Carruthers had a lot of experience. He was certainly well-trained."

  "But he was new to the company," she pointed out, that little fact sticking in her head. "And here's something else to consider. MDT has a history of hiring military-trained pilots to test their products. My father's former friend, w
ho almost killed my sister, was one of their test pilots after he left the Navy." She paused. "I wonder if we should try to figure out if Jerry had any connection to Matt or to Carruthers."

  A gleam entered Patrick's eyes. "That's an excellent idea. Maybe there's a link to your father, too," he suggested.

  She didn't like that idea. "I doubt that."

  "Why? Your dad was in the military and in private aviation, same as these guys."

  "I think I'm going to regret what I just said. Actually, I already regret it."

  He gave her a compassionate smile. "Too late to take it back, Dani." He started the car. "We'll have to work on this later. We need to get to the convenience store where Ann is apparently leaving me some sort of message."

  "She's not going to be there?"

  "She said I should see the man at the counter and ask if I can borrow his phone."

  "I think Ann has seen too many spy movies."

  "Or her source has. But I'm going to play it out, see where it takes us."

  "Let's do it," she said, fastening her seat belt.

  * * *

  As he drove across town, Patrick thought about Dani's suggestion that the pilot could be a link to MDT. As soon as they were done with the next meet, he intended to do more research on the man who had been in the cockpit.

  Although, there was an obvious question: Why would the pilot, who had gotten the job only a few hours before the flight, be willing to die himself? If he was going to sabotage the plane, why hadn't he saved himself?

  Unless he hadn't known what was coming. Maybe he'd been duped himself—a double cross. Something else to think about.

  When they entered the convenience store near Union Station, there were a bunch of teenagers at the counter, so they moved down the aisle to wait until the line cleared out.

  He grabbed two bottles of water out of the refrigerator section. When the counter cleared, he approached the clerk. The man tending the register appeared to be in his late thirties, with thinning brown hair and a notable scar across one eyebrow. He looked like the kind of man who knew how to fight and might even enjoy it.

  Setting the water bottles down, he pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. "Is there any chance I could borrow your phone?" he asked.

  The man's gaze sharpened. He looked around the store, then pulled a phone out from under the counter. "You can take it. I don't need it."

  "Thanks."

  As they walked out of the store, he took Dani's hand so he wouldn't lose her in the crowded pedestrian traffic. He wanted to see what was on the phone, but he also wanted to get back to the car and a little more privacy.

  As they moved down the block, he felt like someone was watching him. He cast a glance over his shoulder more than once, but no one stood out. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

  "Everything okay?" Dani asked quietly, also casting a look over her shoulder.

  "I hope so," he muttered.

  "Sometimes you're a little too honest, Patrick. A better answer would be everything is fine."

  "Everything is fine," he said, trying to take the worry out of her eyes.

  But clearly she didn't believe him. They finally reached the car. They got inside and flipped the locks. He gazed down the street they'd parked on. He didn't see anyone sitting in a car or looking out of place. He opened the phone. "There's one number in the contacts." He connected the call and put the phone on speaker.

  A man answered a moment later. "Hello?" he said in a deep voice.

  "This is Patrick Kane. Who's this?"

  "That doesn't matter. You're looking for information on your mother's death?"

  "I am. Do you have any?"

  "The last people I spoke to about this are dead."

  "Was that my mother?"

  "And the senator."

  "You met them the night before they got on the plane," Patrick said, feeling a sense of excitement that he was getting close to something.

  "Yes, and I gave them all the information I had. They assured me they'd protect me. And then they were dead."

  "Why didn't you go to someone else after the crash?" he asked.

  "Because I'd given them all my proof, and because I didn't want to die, too. I didn't know who to trust. The police, the FBI—they could have all been involved, so I went underground. I changed my name, my appearance, and my life. I'm risking all of it now just to talk to you."

  "You may not have proof anymore, but you do know what you told my mother and what you gave her, so tell me what it was."

  "It was information on security leaks at MDT."

  "Like the ones discovered last year?"

  The man snickered. "Those leaks were just a small ripple in an ocean of deceit. The disappearing weapons and stolen technology have been going on for more than a decade. There's an entire faction of the company that runs outside the law. They've been siphoning off money, weapons, technology, everything… This shadow company is leaner, more powerful, and it operates on the black market, providing weapons for anyone who wants them."

  Patrick sucked in a breath at the scope of what was being suggested.

  "Some of the smartest people in the company work both for MDT and for the shadow company," the man continued. "The new weapons that are coming out are going to be duplicated and sold to the highest bidders. Or worse, they'll be used on our own soil. Nothing drives profit more than terror. The more turmoil in the world, the more money MDT gets."

  "What kind of proof did you have?"

  "I had financial reports that showed a constant stream of anomalies regarding government money being funneled through the company divisions. I had photos of key MDT executives meeting outside the company, sometimes with individuals who were known to play on the black market. I had a person who could testify to working at an off-site location on a weapon that was exactly like the one MDT was building."

  "What kind of weapon was that?"

  "The railgun, similar to the ones that went missing last year and ended up at a ranch in Mexico."

  "Was that the offsite location?"

  "I don't know. It might have been. But my gut tells me they were also using a location in Texas."

  "Where is that person now?" Patrick asked.

  "Dead. He died of carbon monoxide poisoning the day before the plane crash. I didn't know about it until a week after the crash. He'd gone underground while I was trying to get the information to your mother. He's another reason I gave up on all this. I don't believe his death was an accident any more than I believe your mother's plane crashed in a storm."

  Patrick's stomach twisted. He felt sick. "I still don't know why you didn't go to the accident investigators and tell them what you knew."

  "I watched the investigation closely. I figured if someone had sabotaged the plane, they'd get there eventually, and then I'd talk. But they never came to that conclusion. And I had nothing left to show anyone. I could talk, but who was going to believe me without proof?"

  He was beginning to see why the man had gone underground. "What did my mother say when you showed her what you had and told her all this?"

  "She was shocked, but she was open-minded. So was Senator Stuart. He told me he'd thought there were problems with that company for years, but they were so heavily involved in politics, it would be difficult to get anyone to stand against them. He felt he finally had the proof he might need. It was a good talk. I came away thinking that they were going to get to the bottom of everything. But you know how that ended."

  "Yeah," he said heavily.

  "When Ann called the number I gave her years ago, I couldn't believe it. But when she said it was Jackie Kane's son who wanted to talk, I took a risk, because while the FBI and Congress may think the holes at MDT have been plugged, I know otherwise. The shadow company might have taken a hit in Mexico, but they're still in existence."

  "Who do you think is at the top?"

  "I don't know if it's one of the Packer brothers or both, or it could even be their father, although that's less likely now sin
ce he retired. It has to be someone who has the power to move money, technology, and weapons and then cover their tracks. If you want to get into this, you're going to need top-level connections. Ann said you were with a woman who works for Senator Dillon. Can she help?"

  "You think the senator might be involved?" he asked, glancing at Dani, who looked less than thrilled with the man's suggestion.

  "I'm sure he knows something, and he's in tight with the Packers. After your mother and Senator Stuart died, money to MDT increased by threefold. Look through the budgets; you'll see I'm right. They didn't just take out two people who were about to blow the whistle; they replaced them with two other people who were pro private defense contracts."

  He already knew that to be true. "We need to meet in person. We need to talk more. You have to lay out everything you know."

  "No, I can't do that. You have to do the rest on your own. I'll give you one more lead. Tania Vaile."

  "Who's that?"

  "She's a senior financial manager at MDT. She moves a lot of money around the company, and she's very close to the Packer brothers and their father. A few years ago, I would have said she'd never go against them, but that might have changed. The men aren't as tight with her anymore. They've all moved on to younger women. She might be angry. You could use that."

  "You've got to give me more," Patrick said, sensing the man was about to hang up.

  "I've given you all I can. If you can get enough proof, I'll come in as a witness, but until then I'm staying in the dark where it's safe."

  Before Patrick could say another word, the call disconnected.

  "Dammit," he said in annoyance. He looked over at Dani. "What do you think?"

  "I think I found Tania Vaile," she said, turning her phone to face him. "She's with both Packer brothers, Reid and Alan, at a Texas fundraiser at the Ashton Hotel in Dallas. She's a beautiful, busty blonde."

  He could see that. "It looks like she is tight with the Packers."

  "Who knows? It's a fundraiser, and she's standing in front of them. No one has their arm around her."

  "True."

  "I also pulled up another page while you were talking on the phone," Dani continued. "I found her business profile. It says she's a senior financial manager, and that she's been at the company for twelve years." She looked back at Patrick. "If Tania is on the financial side, maybe she was or is the one moving around the money."