The Agent's Surrender

by Kimberly Van Meter

  Jane crossed her arms. “This is a waste of time. If you’d like, we can go through the evidence collected, but I don’t relish the idea of traipsing around an empty bar, especially when there’s no heat and it’s snowing outside.”

  “You can go where you choose, but I’m heading to the bar.” He scooped up his notebook and stuffed it into his satchel. It was hard to get used to—carrying the equivalent of a man purse—but it served its purpose.

  She scowled. “Fine. I suppose since this whole investigation is a wild-goose chase, what’s one more stop?” She grabbed her coat and slipped it on. “Any other ridiculous stops we’ll be making along the way? Perhaps you’d like to get a latte while we’re at it?”

  “A latte sounds like a great idea,” he shot back with a smirk. “I knew you were good for something.” The glare she sent his way only made him grin wider. He really shouldn’t enjoy ruffling her feathers, but when it was so easy...he couldn’t help but grab the low-hanging fruit.

  As they drove to Miko’s former bar, Holden realized he needed to smooth things over if he and Jane were going to work together. Fact was, as much as he hated it, he needed her help and he wasn’t going to get it by constantly needling her. “Listen, I’m sorry about the latte joke. I have mad respect for your investigative skills. And if that didn’t come across when we first started this relationship, I apologize. Believe it or not, I was considered the smooth-talking brother.” When his joke fell flat, he sighed. “C’mon, is this what it’s going to be like for the next week? Shouldn’t we at least try to get along?”

  “You’re asking me to willingly tear apart my own investigation to satisfy some gut instinct that your brother wasn’t the bad guy, and you expect me to be happy about it? You’re questioning my skills as an investigator. Sorry if that doesn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy.”

  “I remember what made you feel warm and fuzzy,” he said, mostly to himself, but he enjoyed the sudden flush in her cheeks, which told him she remembered, too.

  She cut him a dark look. “Keep the jokes to yourself, Archangelo. I’m certainly not in the mood for your bullshit.”

  He chuckled. “What a ball buster. Your family must be so proud. Tell me, Fallon, when was your father aware he had three sons instead of two?”

  “I hate to break it to you, but you suck at stand-up comedy. Perhaps an alternative career in sanitation would be more suited for your skill set.”

  “Ouch. Sanitation...that’s brutal. Are you calling me a piece of shit or just implying I’m only good for cleaning it up?”

  “Take your pick.” She shrugged.

  Damn, this was gonna be one long week.

  * * *

  Jane was fuming. If she were a cartoon character, heat waves would’ve been steaming from the top of her head. She hated how Holden had manipulated her into opening this case, when in fact there’d been no true reason to do so. Now if she went to Reed and admitted she’d fallen for Holden’s bait, she’d end up looking like the weak-minded investigator who had no confidence in her skills. And now he was trying to joke? Even worse, bring up their sexual history? Who the hell did he think he was? She found nothing funny about the situation and she sure as hell didn’t appreciate him throwing in an inappropriate sexual reference. If she thought she could get away with it, she might’ve unloaded a clip into his numbskull. “What do you hope to find at the bar?” she asked in a clipped tone. “And if you thought there was something at the bar, why didn’t you look before now?”

  “Because I wasn’t thinking clearly after I heard the news about my brother. It’s called grief.”

  Oh, good gravy. She had to let that pass or else she’d end up looking like a heartless bitch. “Don’t you think if you had such a tight bond with your brother he would have told you he was in some kind of trouble?”

  “Yes.” He nodded but added, “Unless he thought doing so would put me in danger. A few months before he died, he’d been acting really strange. Evasive. Twitchy, even. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve said he was doing drugs, but my brother was against illegal substances. We’d both seen too many good soldiers get messed up by meth or heroin. My brother would never touch that shit.”

  “But if you were so close, why didn’t you try to pin him down and get the answers?”

  “I tried. By that point, my brother must’ve been in too deep and I couldn’t reach him. At the time, I thought Miko was just going through a weird phase and maybe needed some space. It happens with twins—going your whole life attached to another human being, you sort of lose your own identity—so I figured it might be something like that. But it wasn’t, and by the time I realized something bad was about to happen he was dead.”

  “And you have no idea what he could’ve been into?”

  “No. His work with I.D. was classified, and honestly, I didn’t think I needed to care. It wasn’t until he started acting weird that I realized maybe I ought to poke my nose where it didn’t belong.”

  “And what makes you think Miko didn’t know what he was doing?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he did, but he was trapped by circumstance. Sometimes when you’re knee-deep in mud and you’re sinking fast, your first and only thought is staying alive. Maybe that’s what happened.”

  That was a lot of maybe. “You’re going to need a lot more than flimsy theory to make any meaningful change to your brother’s file. Unfortunately, brotherly love doesn’t supersede the facts.”

  He bristled with mild insult. “Of course not. I would never expect it to, but when you have a man who has lived his life by a certain code of honor and prides himself on being someone you can respect, ignoring the clues to dig deeper is just lazy investigating.”

  Did he just call her lazy? The man had balls. “Do not ever call me lazy. Just because you’re having a hard time accepting facts doesn’t mean you get to throw my skills under the bus. I went above and beyond to find the answers. More was at stake than just your brother’s life. High-ranking officials were killed, and I.D.’s rot caused the disintegration of an entire department. I’d say more than your brother’s honor was destroyed.”

  “You’re right,” he conceded, but followed by saying, “but my brother’s honor is all that I care about.”

  Jane knew he spoke with raw honesty. He’d do anything to prove his brother’s innocence, which made her wonder—would he be willing to lie to save his brother’s ass? She’d have to keep a close eye on him.

  Holden might be just as dangerous as Miko in an entirely different way.

  Chapter 5

  Reed Harris shook hands with his unexpected visitor, curious as to why Ulysses Rocha, one of the owners of Tessara Pharmaceuticals, had requested an audience. Ulysses, who, also with extensive military experience, had turned to the private sector for more lucrative opportunities; and in spite of the negative press incurred by the situation involving Penelope Granger, another high-profile shareholder, Tessara Pharm was still turning a substantial profit.

  “Forgive me, but what is this about?” he asked, getting straight to the point. Ulysses, a barrel-chested man with eyes as hard as flint, cracked a smile that looked entirely out of place on his face, making Reed wonder what the hell was truly going on. “It isn’t every day that I receive requests for a meeting outside of certain circles.”

  “I can appreciate that. As you know, Tessara Pharm has suffered a number of unfortunate events lately, most notably with one of our major founders, Penelope Granger, aka Penny Winslow, who was found guilty of running I.D. as her own personal hit squad through her association with Tom Wyatt.”

  “Yes, I am aware,” Reed said. “Corruption is an equal-opportunity contaminant.”

  “Yes, so it would seem. Tessara Pharm has suffered its fair share of bad press, and as such, we would be happy to leave all that sordid business in the past, as you can well imagine.”

  “Of course.”

  “So when we heard the case involving Miko Archangelo had been reopened, we w
ere concerned how that might affect Tessara Pharm.”

  Ah...the true reason for the visit. “These things happen. New evidence cropped up and we’re obligated to follow the trail wherever it may lead.”

  “New evidence?” At Reed’s noncommittal nod, Ulysses frowned. “What possible new evidence could there be? Both Penny and Miko are dead and I.D. has been shut down.”

  “Let’s put a pin in that question for a moment and draw attention to a question I have—how exactly do you have knowledge of a classified investigation? As far as I’m aware, Tessara Pharm is not on the executive payroll...or is it?”

  A slow, cold smile spread across his face, as if amused that Reed was questioning him. That alone was enough to get the man thrown out, but something stayed Reed’s hand. Something wasn’t right and it wasn’t just that Ulysses was trying to pry information out of him.

  The man cocked his head to the side. “Let’s just say that people in high places have expressed an interest in seeing that the Archangelo case remains closed. People need to be able to move on, Chief Harris. Surely you understand that?”

  Reed didn’t like the man’s tone. A shiver of warning played “Taps” on his spine. He clasped his hands carefully atop his desk and waited. Again that cold smile appeared.

  “There is no conspiracy,” Ulysses continued. “No big cover-up. Just businesspeople concerned that dredging up bad history will lead to a bad future for their bottom line. Shareholders are sensitive to fluctuations in their dividends. It’s our job to make sure those dips and valleys aren’t too sharp.”

  “And it’s my job to make sure the security of our nation isn’t at risk,” Reed countered smoothly. “Frankly, I could give two shits about your shareholders’ bottom line, and you have some balls to come in here and expect me to dance to your tune just because you know a few people. Well, news flash...I know a few people, too.”

  “I see.” Ulysses dropped the smile, which was fine by Reed; they both knew it was fake. “I guess it’ll have to come down to who knows the better people.”

  He laughed. “I answer to the president. Who do you answer to? A bunch of entitled rich people? I think I win.”

  Ulysses rose and adjusted his suit coat. “I’d hoped we could see eye to eye on this.”

  “I don’t see how we could,” Reed said with frank amusement. “We seem to be on opposite continents.”

  “So it would seem.”

  Ulysses showed himself to the door and walked out without further comment. It wasn’t until Ulysses had left the building that Reed let out his held breath. Something foul was afoot. It would appear Holden was right; there was more to the story than met the eye. Was Miko simply a pawn in a bigger game? And if so, who was the true game master? The entire situation left a bad taste in his mouth, but he had no doubt if there was something to be found, Holden would find it.

  Reed’s only fear? Miko had already paid for his involvement with his life. Reed sure as hell didn’t want his two best agents to pay the same price.

  * * *

  The Realtor, none too happy to be out in the blustery weather with two people who plainly weren’t going to be buying, opened the front door of the bar and stamped his feet free of the snow clinging to his boots. “Two floors. The upstairs was the office area.” He looked at his watch. “Do you know how long this is going to take?”

  “You can wait in your car if you prefer,” Holden suggested and the Realtor was only too happy to take him up on his suggestion.

  After the man had disappeared, Holden and Jane clicked on their flashlights, illuminating the dim interior. The bar had been closed for almost six months, but the stale smell of beer remained. Holden had visited a few times right after Miko purchased it. It was supposed to be the thing that kept him busy after retirement, he recalled, the memory springing to mind...

  “A bar?” Holden had exclaimed as Miko drove them to the location for the first time. “You bought a bar?”

  “Yeah, sounded like a good idea at the time,” Miko had said, grinning. “What could be better than being the proprietor of good times? I figure I might as well make a little money at the place where I most often frequent on my downtime, right?”

  “Owning a bar is more than just free beer, Miko,” Holden had said, frowning. “It’s a huge responsibility.”

  “Stop being such a wet blanket. Things are good. I’m no longer punching a clock and I’ve landed a pretty sweet side gig, so I can afford to lose money on the bar for years before I start to sweat. And if it gets to be too much of a pain in the ass, I’ll just unload it. So stop worrying.”

  Holden had glanced around the bar, grudgingly noting the whiskey-soaked charm of the place, and he’d realized his brother could make a killing if managed properly. But Miko was all about the good time, not the profit margin. He had thought then that even if Miko put minimal effort into the bar, it’d still turn a profit, which had been reassuring. Good location, clean but not too pristine, with a lived-in, comfortable feel. Like the bar in that show Cheers. Where everyone knew your name. He had looked to Miko, who had still been awaiting his opinion, and said with a smile, “Tell me about this side gig.” Miko had just shaken his head and hooked his arm around Holden’s shoulders.

  “First, we celebrate. Life is good, my brother. Life is good.”

  As Miko’s voice faded from Holden’s memory, his eyes stung. “You okay?” Jane asked, peering at him. “You look as if you’re going to cry.”

  “I’m fine,” he said roughly, heading toward the staircase, then taking the steps two at a time. He detoured to the left and opened the door to Miko’s private office with Jane on his heels. To her credit, she didn’t pester him to share his feelings, and he was grateful. His grief over the death of his twin was something he kept close to his heart and covered with plenty of layers—he didn’t have the luxury of breaking down. The hardwood floor creaked beneath their feet and echoed in the nearly empty room. Everything of value had been stripped from the walls and sold at auction. Only Miko’s desk remained for staging purposes. A small, high window let in cold, milky light, but the gloom in the room seemed to seep into Holden’s bones. A sense of danger clung to the shadows, and he pushed the disquieting sensation away so he could focus.

  It seemed he wasn’t the only one keying in on the weirdness in the room. “The mind plays tricks on you when you know someone died violently in the space you’re in,” Jane said, rubbing at her arms and shivering inside her thick jacket. “But even still, this place is giving me the creeps. Can we get on with it before hypothermia hits?” She glanced around with irritation. “I don’t even know what we’re looking for.”

  “Anything.”

  “Well, thank you for that completely unhelpful direction.” She gestured to the still room. “Nothing’s here. Everything’s been cleaned out, either to sell or to put into evidence.”

  She wasn’t saying anything that Holden couldn’t see for himself, but his gut told him that something was here. Show me, Miko. If you’re in this room, watching me stumble around in the dark...give me something to go on....

  He crossed to the desk and began opening the drawers, the old wood scraping against the rollers with a screech. A few pens rolled out along with a puff of dust and an assortment of discarded paper clips. He picked up one of the pens and shone the light on the lettering. Tessara Pharm. Not surprising, since it had been discovered Penelope Granger, aka Penny Winslow, was the one pulling the strings. He pocketed the pen and closed the drawer.

  Jane caught the movement and moved toward him. “What’s that and why are you putting it in your pocket?”

  “Calm down. It’s a pen.”

  “Why are you taking it?”

  “Because I am.”

  She let it go, which was good. He didn’t know why he had scooped up the pen, either. “Where’s it from?” she asked.

  “Tessara Pharm.”

  “Ugh. That place leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Big pharm companies are usually up to no good, in m
y opinion.”

  “Yeah, I hear you,” he agreed, moving to the next drawer and opening it. Empty. He slid his hand along the edge of the bottom, looking for anything that his brother might’ve hidden, but nothing aside from wood met his fingers. Dropping to his knees, he flashed the light beneath the desk, checking for evidence of a false bottom, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He rose with sharp disappointment, feeling as if he were missing what was right in front of him.

  He thought Jane sensed his disappointment, though for a long moment, she didn’t say anything. “I understand—” she began, and he immediately cut her off.

  “You don’t understand, and don’t patronize me with your attempt,” he said brusquely, moving away from the desk and flashing the light into the corners of the room.

  “I’m just trying to help,” she muttered.

  “Yeah, well, help by looking. There’s something here. I can feel it.”

  “Great—another gut instinct. Does your gut give a clue as to where exactly we should be looking, because all I see is a sad empty room that’s as cold as a storage locker.”

  Frustration built under his breastbone. “Hell, I don’t know,” he said, walking slowly over the floorboards to listen for minute changes. He walked into the small supply closet and flashed the light around. Nothing but empty shelves and dust. He stamped the floor, listening for a sound change. He explained when he caught Jane watching him with a question in her gaze. “When Miko and I were kids, we would hide things in the floorboards of our old house. We were always trying to hide alcohol or important stuff from our old man, who was a raging alcoholic. When he was sober, he was an okay dad, but when he drank...let’s just say he made living hard.” He didn’t know if Miko had held on to the habit, but it was worth a shot.

  “How often did your dad drink?” she asked.

  “Only on the days that ended in Y.”

  “Sorry.” She seemed to mean it. “So what’d you hide?”

  “Anything we didn’t want him to sell or break. Sometimes we hid money, too. Otherwise, our dad would drink it all away and we’d have nothing left for food.”