WindSwept Narrows: #23 Molly & Natasha

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “Yes, ma’am,” Tasha stood up and lifted her purse. The familiar feel did nothing to stop the tremor inside her. “Seven. Sharp. Good night and thank you.”

  ****

  The room was silent when the door closed behind her.

  “You didn’t have to scare her quite that much, Ben Murphy,” Christine chastised with a stern look. “While I’m not down playing the danger, these people are academics, not a Columbian drug lord.”

  “She’s never been off a desk,” he replied flatly. “What do you need from me?”

  “A husband. A set of trained eyes. And support, just in case Christine is wrong.” Henry looked at his wife with a smile. “Thomas Errickson has a reputation that is more than enough to make me interested in his involvement with this academic endeavor. And made it extremely easy to get the full warrant. If closing him down comes about because of this, you’ll have gone out with a fireworks display like we’ve never seen in a long time, Ben.”

  “And I’m taking a civilian in with me,” he leaned back, long legs covered in leather chaps stretching out before him.

  “That girl has more pluck than you might see,” Christine shook her head and left the office, assuring him she’d have everything ready in the morning.

  Henry watched his wife go and looked at Ben. “Your recommendation comes from a parent, Jerry Tollenson. We managed to find this tidbit of information when the couple was picked up in the middle of a drug bust. I got the information about two weeks ago, but wasn’t sure what to do with it until Tasha came to me. They are conveniently unavailable for comment at this time, so they won’t be able to verify. But the Tollenson’s used to be regulars at a bar in Shoreline.”

  Ben nodded and logged the information with an almost absent manner.

  “You didn’t mention Errickson in front of her,” Ben commented, his gaze never leaving his boss.

  “The only people who know about that side of Errickson are generally thugs and law enforcement,” Henry said coldly. “He keeps a nice contingent of presidents and VP’s from his various organizations around him at all times. Our latest intel on him suggests that he’s importing illegals to work in his manufacturing plants. One of which, he is trying to convince the Narrows people, is legit and above board and well capable of meeting their stringent requirements.”

  “Sheffield and Rollins aren’t beginners,” Ben cited, thinking of two of the main owners of the Narrows.

  “No. And Sheffield already knows he won’t be accepting anything from Errickson Industries, but for the moment, at my request, he’s stringing them along,” Henry leaned back in his chair, his hands tented over his chest. He paused and reached for the laptop on his desk, turning it to face Ben.

  “Errickson?”

  “Alexander Errickson on your far left. Behind him, almost making himself look unimportant, Thomas Errickson.”

  “Who’s the blonde? I saw her here. In the elevator on my way to your office,” Ben leaned in, perched on the edge of his seat and staring. “She doesn’t belong there and it tells itself in every inch of her face.”

  “Spring Errickson. Daughter,” Henry reclined again, his hands folded and fingers tapping. “She’s mostly been raised by her mother and grandparents in Norway. About five years ago, she was seen as the spokesperson for all things charitable from Errickson. And I mean all. Think Princess Diana without the Prince. If there is one good thing in Errickson’s business dealings, it’s what she’d doing with that department. As to why…I don’t know. Because the few times I’ve seen her…if she’s with either her brother or father, unhappy doesn’t even begin to cover her expressions.”

  “I almost started a brawl in your elevator,” Ben admitted reluctantly. “She smiled at me and him…” he tapped the screen over Alexander’s image. “Grabbed her arm and said something that had her immediately lower her eyes to the floor and nod.”

  “I’ll have to put out some feelers and find out why they were here. I’m going to guess it might have something to do with forcing themselves into the Narrows reclamation,” Henry stared at his younger friend.

  “Has anyone ever approached her? Or spoken to her relatives outside the US?”

  “We believe…Errickson threatened her mother and grandparents,” Henry exhaled slowly. “Errickson has a PR department that works full time to make him come across as altruistic and all about the people. I don’t doubt for a second that if he felt she had become a liability, she’d vanish with some lavish explanation about needing privacy or some such nonsense.”

  “And you believe Errickson is involved in this academy,” Ben Murphy leaned back, ankles crossed and hands behind his head.

  “Picking and choosing from the best, brightest young minds he can buy. Unscrupulous parents.”

  “You delight in making my last case a crazy one, right?”

  “Not crazy,” Henry said with a laugh. “Just…complicated.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Tasha went back to her office and kicked her shoes off. She didn’t much care for heels. She liked sneakers and boots. The jacket to her suit was tossed over her pack and she curled one foot beneath the other when she sat behind her desk. Fingers flew over the keyboard and into the website she wanted.

  After fifteen minutes of reading, she knew she’d be pretty safe in Ben Murphy’s hands as her partner at the school. And she also knew she wasn’t sure how to explain to Dell that she’d be out of touch for a few days.

  If she told the truth, he wouldn’t like it and he’d worry until she returned.

  If she lied, he wouldn’t like it, but at least he wouldn’t be worried.

  She sighed and slumped into the chair. She was awful at lying. She pushed up from the desk chair, put her shoes on and went straight to her apartment. She packed a little overnight bag with a few necessities and wrote a nice note. She’d gotten a two week pass for Dell so he could get into the apartment. While she was gone.

  A week?

  He stared at the note in disbelief. Her phone was lying on the counter.

  Who goes off without their phone these days?

  Dell, Sorry for this kind of note, but I have to go out of town for a week, maybe less. I’m not sure right now. I’ll miss you and won’t be able to be in contact while I’m working. See you when I get back, love, Tasha

  Dell‘s fingers curled around the simple note before he looked around and located her computer. He knew what she’d been working on. And he knew it had to do with Molly Fielding. But given the time, he’d wait until morning to visit the clinic and see if Molly knew anything. And maybe see if there was any trail on her computer.

  He wasn’t crazy about her being out on her own somewhere with men who didn’t want what she was doing, made public.

  Tasha really didn’t like the way he paced the floor.

  She felt like the tiny prey hiding in the underbrush. Waiting to have someone add BBQ sauce to her.

  “It’s not going to work,” Ben finally announced, one hand up and raking through the naturally unruly hair in a slightly less than contained gestured of frustration.

  “She looks perfect,” Christine said with a frown at him.

  “It isn’t her looks. It’s her eyes. Either of you mentions kids for sale and…there! She gets this look in her eyes like she’s gonna fucking cry,” Ben growled in frustration. “Why can’t I be a single parent wanting to be shed of his kid?”

  All eyes turned on her when she gasped, her hand up and instantly covering her lips.

  “Then you’re going to have to be dominant enough to control her,” Henry told him without hesitation. “You know what’s best for the pair of you and you won’t let anything, not even her part-time mothering hormones get in your way.”

  Tasha felt her eyes get wider at the words. Then she forced herself to remember it was like drama in school. It wasn’t you. Don’t take it personal.

  “I can do this,” she said firmly, her chin up. “I can. I have a flash drive in my necklace and when the diversio
n happens, I’ll get what we need.”

  “Did you study the papers last night?” Ben demanded.

  “Yes,” she growled back at him. “I have an adorable, precocious nine year old who can probably build a rocket to the moon, given the right supplies and enough time.”

  Ben heaved a frustrated sigh. One brow arched at Christine who frowned and tapped her cheek.

  “Tasha…”

  She heard her name kind of hang in the air when Henry Fontaine spoke it and she winced.

  “What you have is a bored, whiney brain kid you can’t deal with,” Ben said in a low, rumbling voice that made her jump when he snuck up behind her and put his mouth next to her ear. Through the long, blonde hair extensions. She swallowed hard and nodded. “You can’t wait to get rid of her so you don’t have to deal with teachers who want to cram her in special classes for the smart kids. She is not real. There is nothing to get emotional about.”

  “Yes, sir,” she answered immediately, her head bobbing.

  “Sunglasses,” Christine said with a snap of her fingers. She went to the side and dug into a coat pocket. “We’re in luck that it’s one of the few fall sun filled days. Wear these and don’t take them off. In fact…I am brilliant,” she smiled and nodded at her own genius. She lifted Tasha’s hand and led her to the outer door. “We’ll be right back.”

  Ben scratched his head and looked at the older man. “Should I ask?”

  “We might not like it, but she’s the best we have. I want this school out of business and I want to be able to place the cause at Errickson’s feet. Along with everything else he’s fighting, this will definitely bring out the people I need to target. I want his operations shut down. I’m tired fighting with fake ID’s and illegals who…who are being used by his greed.”

  Henry was leaning against the window ledge when the door opened. Ben stopped his pacing and looked up at the two women who entered. Natasha was now wearing the sunglasses. Until Christine reached up and pulled her glasses free, dropping them in Natasha’s hand.

  “That…is some fancy shiner,” Ben finally said when his brain kicked in. He nodded in approval.

  “I evidently have very poor taste in men,” Tasha retorted, slamming the glasses back on her face. “Now…we’re going to be late.”

  “Yeah, let’s go,” Ben grabbed her hand and stormed from the office, mentally going over all the devices he knew she was wearing and his own. He’d picked up an extra helmet last night and handed it to her when they reached the curb.

  “You are not serious?” She hissed in disbelief.

  “Put it on, Candy. We don’t have time to argue about this,” he glared at her, bending over her and wrapping a hand behind her neck. “We’re being watched. Now move it, lady.”

  She offered only a quick nod and did as he said, latching the helmet beneath her chin and reciting prayers that she knew weren’t real, but decided they couldn’t hurt at this point in her life. She pulled the glasses free when the visor wouldn’t close and tucked them in the pocket of the jacket they’d dressed her in.

  She watched as he mounted the huge chrome and metal monster, his hand out and pointing to a peg. “Foot there. Swing the other leg over and mount behind me.”

  ****

  Dell stood and stared. It didn’t look like her, and yet…he knew it was her. His blood heated up when he watched the longhaired biker wrap a hand around her neck and lean in. Then he saw the large, dark bruise around her eye.

  Those eyes, no matter what color, were Tasha’s.

  He didn’t know what to think.

  Molly had said Tasha would be at the Federal Building, but she didn’t know why.

  He turned and walked back to his truck after the motorcycle roared off, his teeth grinding and stomach clenching. His palms hit the very solid fender and his head hung between his shoulders for a long, long few minutes in the early morning light.

  Tasha wouldn’t cheat on him. That he knew. As surely as he knew his own name. Which meant, she was doing something that had to do with the school and the people they were investigating.

  He wasn’t sure which idea made his stomach hurt more.

  ****

  Tasha had her eyes closed.

  No. Closed wasn’t quite the right word, she thought, letting her mind wander to avoid thinking. Slammed so tightly shut they might never open again. That was far more appropriate a use of words to describe her eyes at the moment. Each time something lurched, her arms tightened.

  She’d tried holding onto the thick, chrome bar behind her. Until the first lurch and the whole damn thing beneath her roared and rattled. Then pride flew out the window and her arms went around the closest thing to her.

  The growling FBI agent.

  At one light, he very slowly pried her fingers open. She felt him take a breath and realized she might have hindered that single necessary health thing. So she tried being less…clingy.

  That worked until the light turned green and the bike surged forward in a burst of power. She was pretty sure she screamed.

  She was really, really glad she hadn’t eaten anything this morning. Because when she stepped off the bike (more like launched herself into the air) she was bent over the finely manicured lawn heaving. She waited, but gratefully, nothing came up.

  Tasha heard the long suffering sigh behind her and drew in a shaky breath before standing upright.

  “Sorry…I think I’m better now,” she told him, watching while he locked the helmets to the bike and waited for her to walk up to him.

  “Remember. Let me do the talking.”

  “No problem,” Tasha assured him, sliding her glasses quickly into place.

  She didn’t even try and relax. His hand closed around her waist and kept her close as they walked up the three stairs to the wide, double doors. If not for the guards that she could make out on the sides and top of the building, she would have thought it a normal school.

  Ben Murphy did not want to engage any of the very well-armed guards. For a school, they took their security extremely seriously. Some of the weapons he was catching with his camera were of a better grade that he’d seen on some of his SWAT buddies.

  He dragged his free hand over the day’s growth of a shadow on his face. He’d gotten used to it being there and rarely noticed it. Even surrounded with the clean shaven business types. He kept his features flat, his voice bored.

  “We have an appointment with Farraday.”

  “Dr. Farraday will be right with you,” the woman in her mid-forties said without much inflection. Her gaze looked them both over and seemed to dismiss them.

  He wonder if she was used to the parents of the geniuses being less than society’s best. He looked around the elegant set-up for the main office, noticing the clock. They had fifteen minutes before the diversion he’d arranged would begin. It would buy Tasha Banks almost half an hour to get information from their computer. Hopefully. If she was as good as Henry claimed, she’d be done much faster.

  He didn’t bother to admit to Henry that computers, front door or back, weren’t his forte. Henry knew his agents; he knew their strengths and weaknesses and used them. Effectively.

  When he noticed the woman watching them, he roughly pulled Natasha off to a far corner, turned his back to the woman at the fancy desk and bent his head.

  “She’s watching you. Everything we do is on their monitors now.”

  “Do you think they have them in the office?”

  “I have a device to scramble it once the diversion starts,” he assured her. “And I’m apologizing in advance in case I bruise you. But we have to make it look good.”

  “I understand,” she nodded hastily, her chin caught in his palm when the door to the side opened.

  “Keep your eyes on me. Give him a minute to watch us,” he said, keeping his voice low. “All right?”

  “Yes.”

  He supped in a slow breath and hoped she really was all right.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Barker,” the authoritativ
e voice demanded attention with a slight hint of impatience thrown in as a distraction.

  Ben wasn’t impressed and turned slowly to face the man, assessing him quickly. Their file said he was the one who selected the kids from dossiers. They weren’t sure where the dossiers were coming from, but suspected at some of the classes for advanced kids, there were teachers paid a lot of money to slip them names and opinions.

  Cold flat brown eyes appraised the man with an arrogant tilt of his head. Ben had at least four inches in height on the man decked out in a high dollar vest and suit. Probably used to intimidating the parents whose kids he wanted. With his hand wrapped around her arm, he walked toward the man.

  “Just Mike and Candy,” he said tonelessly.

  “Of course. Come inside, please and we’ll discuss your daughter.” The man stood to the side, his pale brown hair neatly clipped and styled as he watched the couple. He closed the door behind them and crossed the room to his desk. “Have a seat, please. How is Melissa?”

  “Her name is Melanie,” Tasha said, grinding her teeth with the hand tightened on her arm.

  “Of course, my mistake,” he leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping on the folder.

  Ben leaned back, releasing Tasha’s arm. He crossed his arms over his chest, returning the man’s stare.

  “You’re an acquaintance of Tollenson?”

  Ben let a low, rough laugh escape. “Met the couple in a bar in Shoreline,” he answered, his tone derisive. “Drunks who don’t handle their alcohol and talk too much. Candy was whining about the kid and the woman jumped into our business. Can’t fault her too bad, though, can I? Especially if it nets a decent reward.”