Secret Investigation (Tactical Crime Division Book 2)

by Elizabeth Heiter

  “You noticed,” Leila said dryly. “Look, I’ve known Theresa since I was ten years old. My uncle brought her in while my dad wasn’t functioning after losing my mom. But when he got back to work, Dad said finding Theresa was one of the best things his brother had done. She can be prickly, but she wouldn’t betray this company. She helped make it what it is today.”

  “So, how did she feel about you shutting down the firearm side of the business?”

  Thrown by the topic change, Leila sank into her chair, wheeling it away from her desk to put a little space between them. “She wasn’t happy about it. Honestly, no one at the top was. But I’d been thinking about it for a long time. I didn’t do it right away, but last year, the timing seemed right. The ultralight body armor the military had been testing was a big success, and they finally started ordering in massive quantities. It was time to stop splitting our focus, and armor seemed like the way to go.”

  “That’s why you did it?” Davis pressed.

  “Mostly, yeah. But on the weapon side, we just made pistols. Honestly, I’ve just always been more comfortable selling to the military. Protecting soldiers by providing them with solid armor seemed like the best way to spend our company’s resources. Plus our armor was profitable. It seemed right, since it was where my dad started the business anyway.”

  “So that was it? What about the excess?”

  Leila shrugged. “Most of the excess was destroyed. Yes, we lost money at first, but we got the board of directors to wait out the slump, so we could move our focus completely to armor.” She stared up at him, captivated by the intensity that was always on his face, even when he was giving her one of his slow, cocky grins. “Why do you want to know about the shift in our business plan?”

  “I’m just surprised, that’s all. Your dad was really okay with it? He spent a long time building up weapons sales.”

  “Then he and the board entrusted the future of the business to me. It wasn’t what he would have done. My dad and I didn’t always agree, but he always supported me. He knew I was already in an uphill battle with the employees over being named CEO.” She frowned down at her lap. “I think he knew if he didn’t support me on this, my leadership would be in trouble.”

  “He was a good dad,” Davis said, but Leila wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question.

  “Yes,” she stressed, standing up and facing him. “He was the best.”

  She could practically see his mind working, going over what she’d said about her uncle looking after her when her dad had checked out after her mom died. But it had been a long time ago. Her dad had grown up with parents who’d abused him. It had been just him and Uncle Joel for so long, only counting on each other. He’d once told her that when he’d met her mom overseas when he’d been there on business, a single glance from her had changed the entire trajectory of his life. Leila knew it was the fanciful memory of a man who’d loved his wife deeply and then lost her too young, but the idea always made her smile.

  “Yeah, my dad took a while to get over losing his wife. That’s pretty normal, I think. Especially when you have no one to lean on besides your brother—who’s busy running your company and watching your ten-year-old daughter.”

  Davis didn’t say anything, but she could tell he wanted to, probably about her own care in that time.

  “Anyway, once he dealt with his grief, you couldn’t ask for a more involved father.” She smiled at the sudden memory of the first day she’d brought Eric home to meet her dad. When she’d met Eric, she’d been thirteen and just seen him as a friend, nothing more. But her dad had probably seen that Eric—two years older—had a deeper interest.

  “What’s so funny?” Davis asked.

  “If my dad had met you, he wouldn’t let you out of his sight for a second.”

  Davis frowned, maybe thinking she’d meant because her dad would have known Davis was undercover.

  She used a lighthearted tone, intending to be playful, make a joke out of their mutual attraction and this impossible situation. “Not for the investigation, although he probably would have figured that out. But he would have watched you closely for another reason entirely.” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to catch on.

  Finally a smile stretched his lips, starting slow like it always did. With it came a gleam in his eyes. “Is that right?”

  She swallowed, resisting the sudden urge to lick her lips. She’d meant it as a joke. She’d let her serious CEO persona slip with him yet again, and oddly, it didn’t feel strange. She was actually more comfortable being herself around Davis than she’d been with anyone in a long time.

  Spinning away from him, she tried to get her guard back up. It made no sense to feel this normal around Davis. Not so soon after her dad had died and not considering who Davis was, why he was here.

  At the end of this investigation, he’d be leaving. And he might try to take down Petrov Armor when he did it.

  No matter how he made her feel, she couldn’t let him in. Couldn’t let him destroy the one thing she had left.

  * * *

  “ANY NEWS?” DAVIS asked Melinda. He’d retreated to the privacy of his SUV in Petrov Armor’s parking lot to talk to her without being overheard. He felt a little ridiculous sitting in his vehicle while the sun baked him through the windows. But he couldn’t take his jacket off without the possibility of his gun showing. He didn’t want Leila—or anyone else—to overhear his discussion with Melinda.

  “Kane is off on some meeting.” Impatience crackled in her words as Melinda added, “He’s been gone for a while.”

  “How’s that going, working with Kane Bradshaw?” Davis couldn’t help asking. He’d liked Melinda from the minute he’d met her. She was smart and always willing to lend her psychological expertise on a case. She was also quiet and a bit of a loner, but Davis didn’t mind that. She’d gone out with the team for drinks a time or two. Although she kept her personal life to herself, she’d been friendly.

  Kane, on the other hand, managed to be both a charmer and antisocial. The fact that he’d once been partnered with Pembrook’s daughter—had actually been undercover with her when she’d been killed—was common knowledge. But what exactly had happened, no one seemed to know. His MO was to avoid the team as much as possible while running his own operations. Davis still wasn’t sure why Pembrook let him get away with it, although it was hard to argue that the guy got results.

  “Fine.”

  Her short answer was obviously a lie, but she couldn’t see his amusement, so Davis didn’t bother hiding his grin. It served him right that Eric Ross chose that moment to stride through the lot, probably returning from a sales call. He gave Davis a quizzical look, then kept going, disappearing inside the building.

  Davis felt a visceral dislike toward Eric, but he tried to quell it because Eric hadn’t actually done anything to deserve it, besides once date Leila.

  Focusing back on Melinda, Davis told her what he’d learned that put some questions in his mind about Neal Petrov. “So, according to Leila, her dad supported her when she wanted to stop the gun side of the business. She says his support allowed her to do it without massive pushback from her employees or a flat-out refusal from the board.”

  “Well, that’s interesting,” Melinda replied. “You think she’s telling the truth?”

  “Why would she lie?” Before Melinda could answer, he continued, “I realize that she wouldn’t want to implicate her dad, whether or not he was involved, but she still thinks this is just about defective armor. I almost blew it just now when I was talking to her about what I found on her security logs, though.”

  Thank goodness he’d caught himself before he’d started talking about trying to track down anomalies throughout the years. She’d definitely caught on that he was holding something back, but he was pretty sure she didn’t know what.

  It was a rookie mistake. Although he was a
rookie at undercover work, he definitely wasn’t when it came to “need to know.” Most of his missions with the rangers had been highly classified. He’d had no problem keeping everything about them secret. But something about Leila made him speak without thinking.

  “She probably wouldn’t lie,” Melinda agreed, bringing him back on track. “But maybe her father figured he didn’t need to get into a fight with her over it if the rest of the company would do it for him. Push back on dropping the gun sales, that is. Or maybe he’d already planned to move over to making money illegally off of the armor and didn’t need the gun sales.”

  “Really? I know we’re talking about dealing with criminals, but in some ways selling guns illegally seems safer. At least that way, he wasn’t risking a major incident with the military and a large-scale investigation. Not to mention the bad publicity.”

  “Well, we also don’t know how many people are involved,” Melinda said. “Maybe he planned to keep making guns and just hide it from Leila. Or they had enough excess that he figured he could just sell those for a while.”

  “Leila said the excess was mostly destroyed.”

  “Maybe that’s just what her dad told her and she believed him. For all we know, he just moved the excess and continued to sell it.”

  Davis stared at the entrance to Petrov Armor. It was a huge facility, representing almost three decades of work, most of it with Neal Petrov at the helm. The FBI hadn’t requested Neal’s personal finances, but Davis was willing to bet he’d made millions legally. In Davis’s cases, he’d seen plenty of greed that didn’t make any sense to him, people who had more money than they should ever need who still wanted more. He’d come across plenty of people who framed spouses, children or friends for their crimes.

  Even though Kane had described Neal Petrov as heartless, Leila spoke of him with such love. Could she just not see his faults because she adored him? Was he that good a liar? Or was the truth something more complex?

  “What are you thinking, Davis?” Melinda asked, making him realize how long he’d gone silent.

  He was thinking that he felt guilty for not telling Leila that he suspected her dad had been involved in killing the soldiers. That he felt worse for not telling her that her dad might have been murdered over it.

  Instead of admitting to Melinda how complicated his feelings were becoming when it came to the woman he was supposed to be using to get information on the case, he sighed. “I’m wondering if her dad saw how much Leila wanted to stop selling guns and focus on the armor. I’m wondering if he supported her because he loved her.”

  “You think he loved her enough to sacrifice a more than ten-year-long criminal business that was probably netting him millions on top of his legal income? It doesn’t seem likely, but no matter how much you break down people’s motivations and the things that form them, they surprise me all the time. Love is a pretty powerful motive.”

  “What if he wanted to quit the illegal business altogether for her?” The idea gained traction in Davis’s mind. If anyone was worth giving up millions of dollars and changing your way of life for, wouldn’t it be someone like Leila Petrov? A strong, determined leader who refused to suspect anyone she trusted of wrongdoing? Who had a goofy side she tried to hide so people wouldn’t stop taking her seriously? He’d laughed more than once at her silly jokes, had caught her humming popular tunes while working, and seen her bopping along to music as soon as she got into her car to head home at the end of the day.

  Yet she was serious when it came to her responsibility to the company and her employees. She held strong morals about investigating the business she ran—risking her own livelihood—to do what was right.

  “So, he supported her in shutting down the gun side of the business,” Melinda said. “Maybe that was his attempt at taking the company legal again. Maybe he wasn’t setting her up to take a fall if things went south. Maybe he was trying to get rid of that threat for her.”

  “Then what happened with this armor?” Davis asked. “Could it have really been an accident?”

  “I doubt it.” Melinda echoed his thoughts. “What if it was Neal’s partner, trying to undermine the armor side of the business? Bring the guns back?”

  “It’s possible,” Davis said. “But that’s quite a risk, purposely drawing all that attention to Petrov Armor.”

  “Or maybe Neal Petrov saw a new opportunity to make money off the books by using cheap armor material, and he couldn’t help himself. Ten years is a long time to be involved with criminals and then just quit. It’s not always just about money,” Melinda reminded him. “It’s also a thrill for some people.”

  That felt right to Davis. It even opened up a new motivation for Neal’s death. “What if his partner was unhappy with the change?” Davis suggested. “Theresa—or whoever he was working with—thought he’d come around and start selling guns again. When he switched to armor, maybe she had a problem with it.”

  “That could be,” Melinda agreed. “Selling guns to criminals is one thing. Purposely sending armor to soldiers that was defective is another. Maybe Neal’s partner was afraid it was too risky. Or maybe she just drew a moral line in the sand.”

  “Hell of a moral line,” Davis said. “I think maybe she killed him over it.”

  Chapter Eight

  Had Theresa Quinn—or someone else at Petrov Armor—really murdered Neal Petrov?

  Davis glanced at Leila from the spot where he’d taken up residence in the corner of her office. He’d managed to avoid her for the rest of the day yesterday, but when he’d come in today, he knew he couldn’t do it any longer. He needed the kind of access only she could give him.

  To her credit, when he’d asked to see the company’s financial records, she’d frowned but given him access. He’d been reading through them ever since. The problem was, if Petrov Armor’s finances had been doctored, whoever was responsible would try to make things look legitimate. Davis might have to bring in some forensic accountants to drill down to the truth.

  According to Leila, Theresa Quinn didn’t have access to these records. So, if Theresa was still trying to sell weapons to criminals or pass off faulty body armor to the military, maybe something wouldn’t look right in the financial records in the weeks since Neal Petrov had been killed. Of course, that was assuming he’d still had access to the finances and she’d just dealt with the production and delivery end of things.

  Even if nothing looked off in the past month, maybe Neal himself would have made an error along the way. Presumably, he’d gotten away with making illegal weapons sales for so long, he was skilled at hiding all evidence. But sometimes people who got away with something for that long started making mistakes. If Theresa wasn’t involved, maybe Neal had gotten sloppy and someone else had noticed a discrepancy. Maybe they’d tried to blackmail Neal and when he hadn’t paid up, they’d killed him.

  Right now, everything was conjecture. Davis sighed and stretched his legs underneath the desk Leila had set up for him on the far side of her office.

  For what felt like the millionth time since he’d arrived that morning, Davis glanced up at Leila. Her office smelled faintly of citrus, the same scent he’d noticed when she’d been brought into the TCD office. The same scent he noticed every time he stood close to her. He was starting to have a real fondness for citrus.

  Since he’d met her three days ago, he’d only seen her wearing pant suits in shades of gray, black and dark blue. Her makeup was always subtle, her hair constantly knotted up into a bun. It was as if she dressed as straitlaced as possible to try to hide her youth and beauty. But there was only so much she could disguise. Today was no different.

  Still, ever since she’d made that ridiculous joke about an inflatable boat, he’d been imagining her differently. Wearing jeans and a button-down that was too big for her, with her hair long and loose around her shoulders. Instead of her standard too-serious expression, she’
d be laughing.

  Except right now, she had nothing to laugh about. If he was right about her father’s murder, things were only going to get worse.

  He didn’t even know if it was true or just a far-fetched theory and yet, he felt guilty not telling her.

  “What?” Leila asked, a half smile lifting the corners of lips that had been so close to his just the other day.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to. You keep staring.” She came around from behind her desk, striding across the room and stopping in front of him. “What is it? What did you find?”

  Davis glanced down at his laptop screen again, not wanting to look her in the eyes as he said, “I haven’t found anything. I’m just looking for discrepancies.”

  “Because the armor used cheaper materials? You think there will be a double entry for supplies somewhere?”

  “Maybe,” he hedged. He’d worked in white collar crime long enough to know that someone who’d been cooking the books for a decade was unlikely to make such an amateur mistake. But TCD expected him to keep the fact that Petrov Armor might have been illegally selling weapons from Leila. He closed the lid of his laptop, not wanting her to see the dates he was reviewing.

  “Stop lying to me.”

  He finally looked up at her, surprised by the vehemence in her voice. “I’m not lying. I don’t know what I’m going to find. Probably nothing. But if there’s anything that doesn’t seem right, it’s a place to start.”

  “You don’t know what you might find, but you’re looking for something specific, aren’t you?” Her eyes narrowed. “Or is there something else you’re not telling me? You suspect someone besides Theresa? Don’t tell me this is about Eric again.”

  “No, it’s not about Eric.” He wasn’t Davis’s top suspect at the moment, but that didn’t mean he’d been eliminated. And since Leila had brought him up... “You said Eric and your dad were close. Was that true even after you and Eric broke up?” Realizing the time line, he answered his own question. “I guess so if he hired Eric then, right?”