“That sounds promising.”
She sighed. “I have no idea. But it’s something. Which is so much better than when I work and work and come up with nothing.” Then she sat down and pushed her tablet toward him, even as she opened a program from upside down.
“Okay,” she started, “these are the photos from the delivered phone. Cooper Rollins is not in any of them. I’m thinking he sent it. I have zero actual proof, but everyone we’ve seen from the downtown cell, and even a few we didn’t know about, show up in these pictures.”
Donovan flipped through them. She was right. The universal missing constant was Cooper. “But you’re not calling it?”
“Can’t.” She was frank about it. “There are people in there that we don’t know about. People I had no clue were in this cell.” She pulled the tablet back a little and, leaving it oriented toward him, scrolled through to one picture after another, pointing out a few unfamiliar faces. “Who is this man? He’s here . . . and in this one . . . and here. Not a leader, but definitely part.” Then she pointed out another person. “What about her? She’s in this picture, too, which bears a different date stamp, and she’s wearing different clothing. Just like the man. So they met with the downtown cell at different times.”
“These are unknowns and we’ll find out about them.” Donovan said. He didn’t say, you’ll find out about them, though he suspected Vasquez would be the one to dig it up in the end. “Why does that rule out calling it as Rollins?”
Maybe his brain wasn’t working. As soon as she spoke it seemed so obvious.
“Because, we are obviously missing people. If these people were in the cell and we didn’t know, then maybe someone else is, too. They could have sent us the phone.” She shrugged. “Just as easily as Cooper Rollins.”
“Not as easily as Rollins.” Donovan corrected. “We brought Rollins in, we talked to him.” They hadn’t questioned him, really. There was nothing more to do at that stage of the game, and sadly there still wasn’t. “So whoever else might have done this would have to find us and get our names.”
She shook her head, and just then Donovan heard Eleri stir in the other room. He hoped she was rested now, but he didn’t say anything to Vasquez. He’d learned long ago not to make random comments on what he heard. He didn’t want to open any of those cans of worms.
“We followed Rollins.” She pointed out. “Rollins followed us. He made you and me. So it stands to reason that anyone following him could make us, too.”
Donovan was nodding even as she finished her point.
“We’d be fools to assume we were safe as long as you and I stay out of Cooper Rollins’ line of sight. With this cell, with what we think is going down, that could get us killed.”
“And a whole bunch of other people, too.” Donovan murmured as he took a sip of the coffee. It didn’t taste as good as it smelled, but he drank it anyway.
Eleri emerged from the back room looking rumpled and much younger. She managed a nod and a hand to her head before turning and making her way into the bathroom. Even Vasquez had to hear the shower running. El would be out in a bit, and it looked like no one would want to talk to her until she was ready anyway.
Vasquez’ voice brought him back around. Her eyebrows were up and he realized that most people didn’t see the early morning Eleri. The one who blinked and looked rumpled. The one he’d really gotten a good first glimpse of at her beach house at FoxHaven. The first time he’d realized there was more to her than just the agent. More than just the older sister, still avenging the younger sister, even though the time for that had long since passed. Vasquez hadn’t seen this before. “Bad night?”
He nodded. “Nightmares?” He said it as though he didn’t know. “She got up in the middle of the night, and woke me up, too. Finally went back to bed.” He shrugged as if it was nothing too serious even though he’d never seen Eleri have nightmares—regular nightmares—before. There’d always been a tradeoff, something good in return for the bad. This time, it was just a hunch. A real hunch. Not a good Eleri one. “That’s why I let her sleep in.”
“Good thing.” Vasquez seemed to have real sympathy for his partner, even though she herself hadn’t been able to sleep in. Maybe not once since they’d arrived. She turned back to her task. “We don’t know about the Calabasas cell, either. I mean, we know names, but none of them are in these pictures. If they found the other cell, linked them, they might turn. Maybe someone would send us a phone?”
He hadn’t considered that. His brain mulled it over next to a dozen other thoughts and the beginnings of a rumble in his stomach. Eleri would be out soon. “It’s possible. But the same thing could happen from the other group. The one the Indian man is from.”
“Yeah. It could.” She pulled the tablet back. “I think it’s Cooper. But I can’t pin it down.”
Donovan tasted the coffee again. It had cooled a bit and without the heat didn’t mask the undertones as well, but he could use the caffeine. He sipped at it while he mused. “There are a small handful of women in the downtown cell.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” This time Vasquez looked at him instead of the tablet. “I don’t like where it’s going, but I think it’s genius.”
He did not like the sound of that.
“Islam—strict Sharia Law Islam, the kind that may produce a terrorist cell—forbids women the activities these women are doing. These women show their hair. Hell, they color it. They wear pants and wander around outside the house, alone—”
“Maybe they aren’t that strict then.” Donovan interrupted.
“But I think they are. Each group seems to be strict. Think about what Walter got on the Calabasas cell: they’re sitting around their group with Bibles in hand. The Indian man? That pamphlet? That’s a sect. He’s described as wearing traditional garb and telling people about his religion, hoping to get them to join. That’s a serious involvement in your faith. Most of us don’t go door to door professing our creed and suggesting others join us.” She made a solid point, and Donovan tipped his head in agreement. Then she brought out actual evidence.
“Look at these pictures.” She held out the tablet again, this time with the L.A. cell pictures pulled up again. “There are only two of them praying, but the time stamps match the right times of day, and I checked. They are facing Mecca.”
It started to sink in. “So the women are breaking their religious law to do whatever they’re doing?”
Marina nodded. “It gives them the perfect cover. In extremism, it’s almost always the men who commit the crimes. Send in the women, and who would suspect them?” She sat back, the implications of what she proposed settling uneasily.
“But it’s completely against their doctrine.”
She argued back, literally the devil’s advocate in this situation. “God will forgive them. They act in faith.”
Shit. The same could be said of the Calabasas cell. What they might do? If it were what his team suspected? It was against the faith as well. But if they thought it was necessary, if they thought God would forgive them, there was no telling how far they would go. He closed his eyes.
Vasquez’ voice brought him back. “If you want some good news, there’s this.”
She pushed the tablet back at him. A name and address shone up at him, next to a California Driver’s License picture.
“There’s good news?” Eleri stepped up beside the table, her clothing impeccable but her hair wet, one hand rubbing it with a towel.
“Apparently.” Donovan answered her, looking at the tablet, even though he didn’t process it. Jacob Salling?
“That’s the son of Warner Salling, the homeowner of the Calabasas meeting site. I have his full name now and he appears to be at that address.” She grinned and Donovan now figured maybe she hadn’t slept at all last night. In which case she looked damn good. “I pulled his phone records. There’s no break in service for that land line, not since the date the license was issued.”
“So he�
��s likely still living at that address.” Eleri added her first two cents of the morning.
Vasquez nodded and handed Eleri up the coffee she’d brought. Multi-tasking until the end, Donovan thought. “And there’s no record of him speaking to either the Sallings’ home land line or his father’s or mother’s cell phones in the last year. I’m working on finding the sister’s. She’s on a separate plan.”
“Holy shit.” He’d thought it several times since she’d shown up, but this time he said it out loud. Mostly as a sign of respect. “That’s impressive. So what we think is that there’s no evidence the son is in contact with them.”
“That’s what it looks like to me.” She looked from one of them to the other. “I think it’s worthy of a trip up to Ojai to talk to him.”
Eleri agreed, a sweet smile on her face. It was sincere, but Donovan couldn’t quite interpret it. “Do you think you can handle that? On your own?”
Vasquez was thinking it over, and as Donovan was starting to suggest she at least get some sleep before taking the trip solo, Eleri gave him that look. This one he knew.
“Donovan and I need to do some recon.”
She tilted her head. And this he understood.
Are you ready to go out as the wolf again?
31
Eleri hung back, following Donovan as he followed Ken Kellen. They’d shifted their focus today from Cooper Rollins to Kellen, trying to see if they could solidify the link between the cells. Marina headed north trying to see if she could locate Jacob Salling, pull him from whatever he was doing today, and get him to roll on his parents. No small task for a new agent on her own, but no one else could follow Ken Kellen but them. And no one else was on this huge case that kept getting bigger.
They’d been talking about how to get to Kellen, since they didn’t have a home base for him. His driver’s license led to an address he hadn’t been at in over three years, and even then, he’d been deployed. So Eleri wasn’t surprised when no one in the house had ever heard of Ken Kellen even though the place was out near the base and was being rented by four soldiers.
She sent out word. That meant Walter. The only feet they had on the ground in this thing. Then they got lucky. Their PI sent notice that Kellen passed by the square just an hour after Eleri asked. She turned to Donovan and let out a string of curse words.
“What?” He’d pulled back, not used to her swearing that way. She did try to be a lady . . . Most of the time. It was ingrained. But this. . .
“I am so fucking stupid.”
He blinked as she explained. “We need you downtown as the wolf.” She looked around the apartment, out the tenth floor windows that overlooked a city that managed to mostly stay just a handful of stories tall. It sprawled, wild palm trees and tame, square buildings. “How in hell are we supposed to get you out of here? Marina will figure out what you are if she even hears about me walking a wolf out of this damn building. Where are you going to change?”
It hadn’t occurred to him either. She could see that in his eyes.
Donovan shook his head but looked like he might have an idea.
“What?” She prodded. She hadn’t thought ahead. Just figured things would be the same—but safer—at the Bureau apartment. Maybe this was exactly why Westerfield had them ‘off-campus’ to start with. Now she had a bead on Kellen and no way to track him. And she was feeling stupid.
“I was thinking Griffith Park is a good place for a change, but it’s too far away.”
He said the last part just as she thought it. Plus, she figured there were cameras up there. Last time, when Donovan and Wade had run, three people walked in and three people had walked out. This time, she’d go in with Donovan and walk out with a very large dog. If anyone found that on security footage, she’d ruin a people who’d spent centuries if not millennia successfully hiding. It wasn’t her place to out them. “Shit, shit, shit.”
He sighed. “I have an idea. But you don’t watch.”
“Why can’t I watch?” She didn’t know why she latched onto that like she did. She had plenty of science in her education background, a lot of bio, the whole thing fascinated her, but she wasn’t allowed to look.
His expression told her that wasn’t going to change. He frowned harshly. Glared. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Then managed words. “Because this is the closest I’ve ever come to living with anyone, and I’m not using the bathroom with the door open, or clipping my toenails in front of you, and I’m sure as hell not doing this.”
She had to say he had a point on that one, and she was going to have to just get over it. She deferred. “I won’t look. What’s the plan?”
“There are corners in the parking garage not covered by cameras. We have an SUV with dark tinted windows. So we back it into a corner,” He used his hands to explain, “and you get out while I change in the back. You hop in, drive away.”
She nodded, talking through as she worked out the details in her head. “No man in/wolf out on camera. Only if someone can tie footage from the Bureau lot to downtown and be certain we didn’t make any stops. You won’t be found.” Eleri thought it through. “Yes. That can work. You’re a genius!”
Then she sighed again. “The next big question is: can you get a tracking device into Kellen’s pocket?”
“I can try.”
This time he shrugged, but she felt better having a semblance of a plan. She felt better since her stupidity had hopefully been solved.
So they’d done it exactly as he suggested and found a corner of the parking structure without camera access. The tinted windows lent Donovan another layer of security. She hopped out, stood in front of the car while he climbed into the back, and when she pulled out of the lot, there was a stack of neatly folded clothes in the one remaining back seat. The other had been folded down and away, and the wolf sat there, almost grinning at her.
She’d driven, texted Walter—it wasn’t like Donovan could do any of that in his present state—and she’d caught up with the PI on foot. They passed each other on the street subtly, changing out positions as Kellen’s tail. Eleri did the job solo for a few blocks until Donovan traded out with her, once he was certain Walter was out of the way.
It had almost hurt Eleri’s head, the number of switch offs. Then again, if you were going to successfully track a covert operative, that was probably the way to do it. It would be second nature for him to check his surroundings. If he found the same person behind him twice, he’d make a mental note. Three times, and he’d ditch them.
So Donovan followed Kellen. It was unlikely the man would think the animal was tailing him, but that animal was doing far more than that. As Eleri watched, Donovan ducked and bobbed, staying out of sight. Occasionally letting a person pat him on the head and compliment him, which made Eleri want to laugh.
It was fine until Kellen headed into a parking lot, clearly aiming for his car, and Donovan hadn’t gotten close enough to drop the tracker into a pocket. Not that that would be easy, or even possible. Still, they’d decided to at least try.
But as Kellen stepped over the curb into the lot, keys in hand, Donovan turned back and ran the short distance toward her.
What was he doing? She squinted at him as he looked left, then right.
Hair raised on the back of her neck, even though she knew that was his territory, not hers.
He growled. Too far away for her to hear it, she saw the way his lip curled and she began to understand.
“Go.” She mouthed it as carefully as she could. It wouldn’t do to look like this was her dog; she couldn’t appear to have any connection with him. It was probably unavoidable, but they couldn’t afford to have Kellen catch on. So she turned away from her partner, hoping he could do his job while she tackled the new one facing her.
Lobomau.
Bastards. Couldn’t they just leave her alone? Was the last time not enough? They’d held Donovan back and she’d still held her own. Then again, he’d said something about her eyes and she wondered if it was
real.
The two of them hadn’t talked about it again. Now there wasn’t time. The silver-haired woman walked right up to Eleri, holding her attention. Eleri was still aware of the two men coming up beside her. Where was the fourth?
Was four even their limit? There had to be more, right?
Shit.
“Hello.” Eleri made a point to speak first. “Nice day for a walk.”
She stared the leader in the eyes, trying to read what was going on in there and not give away anything of her own. She didn’t reach for her gun, though it was tempting. She was the officer here; she had her badge in her pocket, and NightShade or not, she wasn’t supposed to start a gunfight on the street.
“Not on a leash.” Gray responded and Eleri definitely wanted to know this woman’s name. For a flash of a moment she almost laughed. Marina Vasquez could probably find it out, but then she’d have to know everything.
“No one’s on a leash here.” She kept her cool. She wasn’t afraid, but she was wary. This woman or either of these men could spring at any time. They could close ranks like they did during their first meeting. At least she was better prepared this time.
The one on her left looked at her like she was cake, and he brushed against her in a way she couldn’t tell was sexual or just meant to be imposing. She pushed at him, not bothering with any etiquette where he was concerned. He backed off, probably not wanting to tangle with her after the last time they’d all met up.
Behind her, she heard growls in the distance, and Eleri fought hard not to turn around and look. Donovan was back there and by the sound of it was he tangling with a real dog that caught his scent and didn’t like him. Or maybe one of these guys was running interference.
Eleri’s money was on the second option. Now, she tried not to be afraid. She didn’t know what Donovan’s fighting capacity was as the wolf. He’d been trained in weapons at the Academy, but now he had no weapons other than his teeth and paws. He’d been trained in hand-to-hand, but he didn’t even have hands now. And Donovan was not the violent sort.
The NightShade Forensic Files: Fracture Five (Book 2) Page 27
