Truth? There it was again.
“Do you have any idea what the packages Kendra intercepted could contain?” Maggie needed to redirect the conversation.
“Drugs would be my guess. Afghanistan produces more than ninety percent of the world’s heroin supply. A kilo of the pure stuff in country—in Afghanistan—runs about $5,000. By the time it hits the streets in the U.S., it can bring in up to $300,000. That’s a profit some men can’t resist.”
“So we’re looking for white powder?”
“The purer the heroin, the whiter the color. It can also be dirty brown, though. There’s a black heroine that comes in from Mexico known as black tar. But we need to be on the lookout for anything that could be shipped from the Middle East to the U.S. illegally.”
“Such as?” she pressed.
“Precious gems, even artifacts.”
Like the earthenware figurine pictured in the computer photo pulled from her sister’s laptop. Dani may have had problems when she was young, but no matter what Nate might think, her sister would never have gotten involved with an illegal operation. Maggie wasn’t as sure about Graham.
She rolled her eyes. “So we’re looking for precious stones, ancient artifacts, powder in an assortment of colors or all of the above?”
“Basically, yes.”
“Humph.” She put her hands on her hips and paused for effect. “That certainly narrows down our search.”
Without waiting for a response, she walked toward the pawnshop. As attractive as Nate might be, his efficient cop demeanor could be annoying at times. Especially his recent insinuations that she was holding something back, something he seemed to feel would point to Dani’s culpability in a smuggling ring. As far as Maggie was concerned, she had a right to keep certain information under wraps. She owed that to her sister’s memory. She also owed it to herself.
Pushing on the glass door, she stepped into the dimly lit interior. Nate followed her inside. Both of them stood, taking in the eclectic assortment of items people pawned for money—everything from electric knife sharpeners and mixing bowls to camcorders and cameras. Rows of shelves were jammed with computers, DVD recorders and other electronic items.
The merchandise seemed positioned to catch the eye of the soldiers, who frequented the pawnshops. If they were anything like the down-on-their-luck folks in Alabama, the troops stopped in close to payday when their bank accounts were empty and their families needed to be fed.
Not that she was passing judgment. She glanced at Nate who was doing a one-eighty, probably making a mental log of everything he saw.
According to what Maggie could determine, he was a take-charge guy who never saw a problem he couldn’t fix. But was there something more below the surface? Something he kept hidden from the world? He’d tensed when mentioning his brother’s death. Undoubtedly, Mr. Special Agent had his own cross to carry.
A noise caused her to turn as a young man, mid-twenties, sporting facial hair and glasses, stepped through a fading, burnt sienna curtain that separated the front of the store from a room in the rear. Maggie tried to catch sight of what lay behind the divider but all she could see was a pile of corrugated boxes and more clutter.
The rumpled T-shirt and baggy jeans the clerk wore seemed in keeping with the lack of cleanliness everywhere Maggie looked. Focusing her attention back on him, she realized the pawned items would require time for her and Nate to examine them and perhaps provide an opportunity for the clerk to reveal something he shouldn’t, such as a bit of information that might have bearing on her sister’s death.
Digging deep within, Maggie pulled out a sunny disposition to go along with the smile she didn’t feel but plastered across her lips. She forced a buoyancy into her step as she picked her way toward the clerk who had taken up residence behind one of the display cases.
“I’m interested in jewelry,” Maggie said. “Pearls, silver, gold, precious stones.”
The kid’s expression lightened up a bit. “Don’t see much gold these days. Most folks sell it for cash. The jeweler down the street gets most of that business.” He pointed to the north, never realizing he might be encouraging an interested shopper to go elsewhere.
“Are you the owner?” Maggie asked, trying to pump up the guy’s ego, even though there was no way Mr. Goatee with the pudgy, baby cheeks could manage a business, even one in such disarray as Wally’s Pawn.
The kid shook his head. “Wally owns the place. I work part-time.”
“And you are…?”
“Ronald Jones. Most folks call me Bubba.”
“Nice to meet you, Bubba.” She glanced around the store. “Can you point out some of your better jewelry items for sale?”
“There are a few silver bracelets in the showcase by the window.” Maggie followed his gaze and spied an assortment of thin bangles and silver-plated charm bracelets.
“Anything foreign?” She tried to hold Bubba’s attention as Nate meandered around the store, feigning boredom. More than likely, he was casing the place, searching for anything that seemed suspicious.
“There’s a set of stacking dolls from Russia.” Bubba pointed over his shoulder to the top shelf. “They’re hand painted. ’Course, one’s broken.”
“Could I see them?”
“Yes, ma’am.” As he turned to retrieve the children’s toy, Maggie shot Nate a questioning glance.
He shrugged. Evidently unable to find anything that looked significant, he nodded toward the orange curtain.
“Here you are.” Bubba placed the stacking dolls on the glass-topped counter, looking proud of his offering.
Glancing at the now-empty spot on the shelf where the dolls had once been, Maggie spied a ceramic statue of a rather stout figure, which could have been a distant cousin to the one in the photo pulled from Dani’s computer.
At least that’s what Maggie thought until Bubba placed the figurine in her outstretched hand. Instead of a piece of antiquity, she saw a hand-glazed Friar Tuck of Robin Hood fame.
Maggie motioned to Nate. “Come here, and see the cutest little dolls Bubba found for me. Plus there’s an unusual statue you might like.”
Stepping to her side, Nate almost laughed at the comical friar, then fighting back his mirth, he turned to gaze playfully into her eyes. “But I thought you were interested in jewelry, my love.”
His exaggeration should have caused her to at least smile. Instead, she felt overpowered by his nearness and tried in vain to quiet her rapid pulse and pounding heart. Their boyfriend-girlfriend charade was proving dangerous to her health. Undoubtedly, she had underestimated Nate’s ability to get into character.
“You folks from around here?” Bubba asked.
“Alabama.” Noting the clerk’s confused frown, Maggie wrapped her arm around Nate’s elbow and snuggled close. “My honey’s stationed at Fort Rickman. I drove over this afternoon.”
Bubba’s frown turned upward. “We get lots of military folks in here.”
“I bet you do.” Maggie stood poised to pull back her arm as soon as the clerk turned away. However, Bubba continued to stare at them with a smug look on his face that could mean anything.
Nate disentangled himself from her grasp and then proceeded to drape his arm around her shoulder and lower his cheek to smell her hair. An explosive warning went off in her brain that ricocheted through her body. Too close for comfort, the warning kept playing through her head.
“Now, sweetie.” Nate’s voice was mellow like chocolate. “I told you I’d buy you something pretty today.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.” Nate shifted his gaze from her to the curtain. “Do you have anything in the back, Bubba? Maybe a big-ticket item?”
The clerk pursed his lips but didn’t move.
Nate rubbed his fingers along Maggie’s arm, causing an assortment of erratic sensations to tangle through her anatomy.
“Something wrong, sweetie? You seem a bit stand-offish.” Nate’s eyes twinkled, causing her heart r
ate to increase even more. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be in danger of cardiac arrest. She pulled in a steadying breath determined he wouldn’t get the best of her. Besides, two could play this game.
Maggie wrapped both arms around Nate’s neck and batted her lashes, pleased to see a pulse spot pound on his forehead. Keeping her eyes on the special agent, she said, “Bubba, you wanna check in the back room in case you’ve got any jewelry I might be interested in buying?”
The kid hopped from one foot to the other, then flicked his gaze to the orange curtain, looking ill at ease by their obvious display of affection. Or was there something in the rear room he didn’t want to reveal?
His cheeks reddened. “I’ll be back in a flash.”
Bubba hustled through the curtain, leaving Maggie with her arms wrapped around Nate and her heart doing somersaults. His breath came in shallow pulls. A purely masculine lime scent teased her nose. Her neck warmed, and she no longer thought of Bubba or the back room. Instead she was totally focused on the tiny scar on Nate’s chin, his parted lips and the lazy way his eyes were taking her in as if he were a giant magnet, drawing her close.
Time stopped and all she knew was the strength of Nate’s embrace and a sense of security that wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a cold night.
“I found something you might like.” Bubba stepped through the curtain.
The sound of his voice brought Maggie back to reality. No matter how good Nate felt, she didn’t belong in his arms. She stepped away, but her skin continued to tingle where their flesh had touched. For an instant, her equilibrium faltered.
Nate grabbed her arm. “You okay, honey?”
The sincerity of his voice caused another bubble of warmth to boil within her. Pulling in a short breath, she smiled, slipping back into character. “I’m fine, sweetie. Let’s see what Bubba found.”
The clerk placed a small cigar box on the counter and opened the lid with a flourish. “Look at this,” he said unable to mask the enthusiasm in his voice. The box contained a rhinestone brooch, probably circa 1940s, with matching screw-back earrings.
“They’re very nice, Bubba, but not exactly what I’m looking for.” She glanced at Nate. “What do you think?”
“Honey, whatever you like is fine with me.”
Maggie checked her watch. “It’s almost noon. Why don’t we think about it over lunch?”
Bubba’s face dropped somewhat. “You sure you folks don’t want to buy the pin and earrings now?”
Nate pointed to the showcase by the wall. “I’d like to take a closer look at the .45 caliber you’ve got for sale.”
“While you guys talk guns, I need to freshen up before we go to the restaurant,” Maggie said. “Bubba, could you point me to your restroom?”
“In the back.”
“Through the curtain?”
“That’s right. On the left.”
Nate’s eyes held a glint of appreciation for what she’d accomplished.
As the men headed for the distant display case, Maggie slid between the panels of the curtain. The back room was small and even more cluttered than the main showroom.
Knowing she had to make every minute count, she looked in the stack of boxes and did a quick inventory of the piles of items on the floor. A desk sat in the corner. Holding her breath, she slid open the drawers and rifled through a number of manila files, none of which provided any information that seemed pertinent to the boxes being shipped into the U.S.
Stepping into the restroom, Maggie ran the water in the sink to cover any noise she might make as she opened an assortment of cardboard cartons piled on the concrete floor. Most were empty. A few contained garden tools and other yard equipment, but she found nothing of value nor anything that might be smuggled illegally into the United States.
The bell on the outside door tingled. “How’s it going, Bubba?” A deep voice filtered through the curtain.
“Hey, LeShawn. You workin’ this afternoon?”
“Wally wants me to do inventory.” The voice and accompanying footsteps drew closer.
Her heart thumped a warning. A man named LeShawn had paid Kendra for delivering the mailed package.
Maggie closed the carton she was examining and then realized she had left the water running in the restroom. Racing for the sink, she placed her hand on the faucet just as a tall guy, probably six-three, pulled back the drape.
“Morning.” She smiled, ignoring the startled look on his long face. Too late, she spied the desk drawer she’d inadvertently left open. There was nothing she could do at this point except exit stage right.
Halfway to the curtain, LeShawn grabbed her arm. “What’s going on, lady?”
Despite her runaway pulse, Maggie narrowed her eyes and glared up at him. Her voice was low when she spoke. “You probably noticed my boyfriend out front. He’s packing heat and doesn’t like anything to upset me.”
LeShawn stared at her for a long moment while her mouth dried to cotton and her heart hammered in her ear.
Finally, he released his hold.
A wave of relief washed over Maggie. She turned on her heel, stepped through the curtain and slipped back into girlfriend mode.
Motioning to Nate, Maggie trained her eyes on the young clerk. “Thanks, Bubba, for letting me use your restroom. We’ll be back later if we decide to buy the rhinestone pin.”
She started for the door, arm-in-arm with Nate, but stopped short when a thought hit. Turning, she smiled once again at Bubba and then at LeShawn, who had pulled back the curtain and was staring at her.
“Have you seen any small earthenware potbellied figurines in your shop, Bubba?” she asked.
Nate glanced at the clerk, while his fingers tightened on Maggie’s arm.
Bubba failed to hide the surprise that washed over his baby face. His neck flushed and he tried to speak. “Ah…ah…”
“That’s not something we ever see around here, lady.” LeShawn quickly helped him out.
Bubba’s hesitation and LeShawn’s attempt to fill in the blanks were telling. At least one of them, if not both, had seen earthenware potbellied figurines.
Maggie had learned something significant, but there was another question she needed to have answered. What role did the ancient artifact play in her sister’s death?
SIX
Driving back to post from the pawnshop, Nate glanced in his rearview mirror at Maggie, who was following him in her own car. Using his side mirrors, he searched for the dark sedan he’d seen earlier. The car had trailed him and Maggie all the way from Kendra’s house to Wally’s Pawn. Nate had alerted the police, who promised to increase surveillance in that neighborhood, but he continued to be concerned about Maggie’s safety.
She had done an amazing job with Bubba at the pawnshop. The woman had the instincts of a cop. Nate almost chuckled. Then he thought of the way she’d felt in his arms. When she’d snuggled close, his world had gone into aftershock. Talk about vertigo. Everything had swirled around him, except Maggie. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her.
Pulling into the BOQ area, he waited as she parked and climbed into his car. A light mist started to fall and the sky darkened, but Maggie’s floral perfume brought a sense of springtime to the dismal day.
He touched her hand. “Thanks for checking the back-room at Wally’s.”
“As cautiously as Bubba was guarding that room, I thought for sure he was trying to hide something.”
“You didn’t see anything unusual?”
“Nothing except a lot of clutter.”
“No potbellied earthenware figures like the photo downloaded to your sister’s computer?”
“Bubba can’t keep a secret, can he?”
Maggie had acted heroically and her initiative had caused the pawnshop clerk to reveal his hand. LeShawn’s attempt to deflect attention away from Bubba had been telling, as well. Without doubt, the earthenware figurine played into whatever was being shipped from Afghanistan, and both of the men were involved.
But who else?
Leaving post through the main gate, Nate turned onto the road leading back to Freemont. The rain intensified, and he clicked on the windshield wipers.
Maggie glanced out the window. “God evidently listened to the prayers of the good people in Georgia.”
He raised a brow. “How’s that?”
She pointed to the standing water and overflowing sewers they passed. “How many people begged the Lord to end the years of drought? God evidently responded.”
“I don’t think they prayed for floods.”
“But they prayed for rain, and God always gives us more than we ask for.”
“Do I notice a bit of skepticism in your voice?”
She shook her head. “Not really. Things began to make sense a few months ago when I started going back to church.”
“The world’s still messed up, Maggie. Lots of folks have problems.”
“You’re right, but I feel better knowing God’s in control. That realization makes me want to be part of the solution when I reach out to others.”
“Which you do in your counseling practice.”
She turned thoughtful eyes to gaze at him. “I used to do it with my head. Now I’m trying to do it with my heart.”
Nate’s hands tightened on the wheel. A faint thread of understanding wove through him along with her words. Other investigations had been matters of intellect. He’d been doing his job. Putting the pieces together. Head knowledge. Common sense. This time, with Maggie, something deeper was involved.
He was attracted to her physically, but it was more than that. Maybe for once, he’d gone beyond the intellect to the heart of the matter and had seen a glimmer of hope, which was something he needed to ponder in the future.
Right now the funeral director waited and a tough job had to be tackled. Nate planned to stay with Maggie and help her with any decisions she needed to make.
Heart or intellect? He needed to guard both, especially when he was around Maggie.
The funeral director was sympathetic and Maggie remained strong throughout the process of arranging for her sister’s burial. She chose a fitting resting spot near a grove of pecan trees as well as a marble headstone and concluded the arrangements in time to make the meeting she had scheduled with Chaplain Grant.
The Officer's Secret Page 6