Outside the Law

by Michelle Karl

  So why, instead of feeling validated about her suspicions, did she feel like things were about to get a whole lot worse?

  * * *

  As police officers ushered Yasmine to the car, Noel paid close attention to Anthony Clarke. They’d clearly rattled the man, but instead of acting ashamed, he’d turned angry—borderline enraged—and Noel didn’t want Yasmine anywhere close to what could become a volatile situation. Behind him, Noel heard Clarke follow them out of his office, the telltale tinny sound of a cell phone dialer echoing in the dim hallway. If only Noel could hang around and listen in on the conversation, figure out who Clarke was talking to. He’d already pushed the situation too far, however, and the next step involved getting Yasmine out of here and someplace safe.

  He found which car she’d been stowed in and slid onto the seat next to her.

  “You doing okay?”

  She shrugged and stared out the window. “I guess.”

  “You were right.” He reached across and hovered his hand over her knee, uncertain whether he should place it there to offer comfort or if it would make her upset instead. He pulled away, taking the safe route. “I mean, we don’t have physical evidence yet, but I’d think that conversation is enough to earn us a warrant.”

  “On hearsay? He’ll deny everything.” Her voice had a distant, listless quality to it. It didn’t sound like her. He thought she’d be relieved that they were a step closer to the truth—a small step, but any progress helped.

  “Look, I need to call my mentor and tell him what we learned. It might be enough to get the FBI involved, to make this an official investigation.”

  “You really think so?” She finally turned her face toward him, but the hope in her voice wasn’t reflected in her expression. “They’ll send guys up from somewhere else, won’t they? I mean, you’re new. I’m not trying to be callous about it, Noel, but—”

  “No, you’re right.” She made a good point. “But that’s not entirely a bad thing. If the FBI sends experienced agents to take over, I should be able to observe even if I can’t officially help. I don’t report to my assigned office until next week.” He pulled out his phone and dialed Special Agent John Crais.

  “Black? I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

  “Hey, Crais. We went to the facility and talked to Anthony Clarke, the manager. The guy was jumpy, evasive. When Browder asked him about a conversation with her brother, the guy panicked and revealed information that we didn’t have—basically admitted to falsifying inspection reports, but we have no solid evidence. I think he’s keeping copies of the reports on the premises, however, or at least some papers that could be considered incriminating. He’s also got expensive tastes, though his facility doesn’t keep up the same image. Think there’s enough to get a warrant?”

  “That is something.” Crais paused, and Noel heard the sound of tapping across a keyboard. “Any other relevant details?”

  Noel glanced over at Yasmine, who once again regarded him with one eyebrow raised. He slipped his hand over the phone’s speaker and whispered to her. “Your face is going to stick like that one of these days.”

  The mask broke, and a tiny smile crept across the corner of her mouth as she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted to see her smile, and how much he’d wanted to be the one to cause it to appear, until that moment.

  “Black? Did Clarke say anything else?”

  Noel snapped back into focus. “That’s about it, sir. He said that Daniel Browder spoke to him about an issue Browder discovered with the inspection numbers and made what Clarke called ridiculous accusations about falsified reports. That’s enough, isn’t it? We can take it from here? If we can jump on this before the military gets wind of it and tries to fold it under their own investigation—”

  “Where are you now, Black?”

  Noel’s words caught on his tongue. What did that have to do with anything? “I’m traveling back to the local precinct. Then we’ll move Browder to a safe place where she can rest and recover. Is there an FBI safe house in the area?”

  “Sounds like we have a lot to talk about. Can you get away from the local police for a little while?”

  “Sure, but I don’t know what good that’s going to do. They’ve been nothing but cooperative on this, even without it being officially our investigation.” Crais’s silence through the phone felt heavy and patronizing, and Noel felt his confidence falter. Stop it, he told himself. You’re not expected to know everything after only twenty weeks of training. That’s what having a mentor is for. “What’s the next step, sir?”

  “There’s a safe house on the outskirts of Buffalo. You know how to find it. Meet me there in two hours.”

  As much as Noel didn’t want to admit it, the thought of meeting Crais face-to-face brought considerable relief. Crais would know what to do. He’d know how to keep Yasmine safe while playing inside the lines of FBI jurisdiction. Noel didn’t have enough experience to do that yet, let alone skirt it in the way he’d done by going inside the Newtech Inspections building.

  “Done. See you there.”

  “Black?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t tell anyone. From what you’ve said so far, you don’t know who you can or can’t trust. Somebody knew how to find that woman you’re with, so think about who you’ve been spending time with these past twenty-four hours. Who has had access to your location? Who has known exactly where you were since this began? Who’s been pulling strings to get eyes on this woman?”

  Noel’s breath caught as Crais ended the call. The man made an excellent point. Noel flicked his gaze to Officer Wayne in the driver’s seat and then to Yasmine.

  “What?” She leaned her head against the window.

  “Don’t do that.” He tugged on her shoulder. “Sit up. That’s not good for your injuries, and it makes you a bigger target.”

  “The windows are tinted, Noel. It’s fine. And I’m fine.” He shook his head, and she stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “What is it?”

  He tipped his chin toward Officer Wayne and then back to the cars behind them. He kept his voice low and quiet, hoping he wouldn’t be heard over the crackling noise of the police radio on the dash.

  “We might have been going about this the wrong way. Think about it. Who knew your whereabouts this whole time? Since that first incident at your apartment?”

  She shook her head. “You’re being obtuse. I have no idea.”

  He hoped that Crais was wrong about this. Noel didn’t think his instincts were that bad, but then again, he’d been holding a badge for all of a day and a half. And he had to admit a bias for the work of local police, having spent time as a police officer himself elsewhere in the state. But John Crais had been at this for a long time, a very long time, and had become a figurehead at the Buffalo field office as special agent in charge. Noel was very fortunate to have been paired with him as a mentor, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint the man before they’d even officially begun working together.

  He inclined his head a second time toward Officer Wayne. Him? No. A string-puller, Crais had said.

  “The police?” Yasmine mouthed.

  Noel nodded and pointed his finger up. Higher. “The captain.”

  EIGHT

  Noel watched as Yasmine deflated in front of him. The faster they got this solved, the faster she could move on with her life. Find peace again. He couldn’t even imagine what she was going through—she’d had three weeks to come to grips with Daniel’s death, and now here she was being emotionally dragged through it all over again.

  “We’re going to take down the people who did this,” he murmured. This time, when he reached for her knee, he didn’t hesitate. She didn’t flinch, and a part of him relaxed. But just a tiny part. “Your family has been through enough. You’ve been t
hrough enough.”

  She leaned over to whisper in his ear, and for a moment Noel almost forgot why they were in the back of a police car. The scent of her hair, her skin, transported him to an imaginary time when they could sit together, sip tea and talk. Someday. Maybe someday. As friends.

  It didn’t matter how his stomach tensed and his mouth dried when she looked into his eyes. He had a brand-new career, an assignment for two years at the Buffalo field office, and after that he might be sent anywhere in the country. Settling down couldn’t happen anytime soon, which meant his heart couldn’t get distracted, either. Not that Yasmine would ever consider actively distracting him. They’d missed that boat long ago.

  “Do you have another car?” she asked.

  He shook his head and considered their options. “My parents. I’ll borrow their car. When we get to the station... Hang on. We’ll need to move on the fly with this.” Noel sent a quick text to his mother, asking her to come pick them up. He didn’t like the idea of bringing his mom down to the police station or want to interrupt her in helping out at the bakery, but he and Yasmine needed to get away from the station for a while to meet Crais, and he needed to work through all of the details so far in his head. He wanted to be inconspicuous about the absence, just in case there was something to Crais’s suspicions.

  One thing nagged at the back of his mind as his mom texted back to let him know she was on her way. If the captain was after Yasmine, why had he let her rest at the station? Why not just shoot her or take out both of them some other way?

  Because you’re a federal agent. And because you’ve been next to Yasmine since this all began, and he was waiting to find out what you know.

  It explained the disappearance of the policemen in the hospital and how the man posing as a doctor had known which room she was in. It also explained the break-in to Yasmine’s apartment and the early-morning car accident—she had a regular routine, making her an easy target for stalking and attack. She was even inside a vehicle loaned to Noel by none other than Officer Wayne, someone who’d certainly communicate that information to the captain if asked. On the other hand, it didn’t explain the deceased soldier reappearing, alive and well, to take a shot at Yasmine through the restaurant window. Nor did it explain why any of this had happened.

  He needed to speak to Crais in person. His mentor would know what to do, or at least help clarify the next step to take.

  Eventually the convoy of police cars arrived back at the station, with Officer Wayne thoughtfully pulling up to the front door for Yasmine’s sake. Noel scanned the parking lot until he saw it—his mother’s bulky white Lincoln.

  “Ready? Head straight for the white tub on the left. Don’t stop. Get inside and get down.”

  Yasmine nodded, her expression uncertain. “What are you going to do?”

  “Buy us some time. Go now.” They exited their respective sides of the vehicle, and Yasmine moved as quickly as her injuries allowed toward his mom’s car.

  “Hey!” Officer Wayne called and waved his arms. He turned to Noel, concern etched across his features. “Where’s she going? Isn’t she supposed to stay with us?”

  “New plan,” Noel said. “I have direct orders from the FBI to take her to a safe house. Tell the captain I’ll speak with him soon.”

  Officer Wayne frowned. “Can’t you go in and tell him yourself? We took a whole convoy to protect her, so if you just take off—”

  “Trust me.” Noel laughed, not even needing to force it. “Nobody’s going to suspect a thing while she’s in that massive boat, so long as we get moving. Urgent change of plans. Tell the captain to call the FBI if he has questions.”

  Officer Wayne nodded, still uncertain. Noel knew he’d get a call from the captain in a matter of minutes, so he needed to make the most of whatever brief respite he could grab from all the voices and imminent threats.

  He jogged to his mom’s car and climbed into the passenger seat. Yasmine lay across the backseat, her teeth clenched as she maneuvered to find a comfortable position with her injuries. Noel fastened his seat belt as his mother pulled out of the parking lot, her lips pursed with disapproval.

  “She should be in the hospital,” she finally said.

  “Yes, Mom. Thanks. But it’s not safe there. I need you to pay very close attention to the road while I watch around us. You’re going to drive back to the bakery, and then we’re going to borrow your car. Okay?”

  She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Noel, I don’t like this.”

  “I promise I’ll pay for repairs if it gets scratched.”

  “I don’t care about that! Who’ll repair you or poor little Yasmine? She looks more than scratched, and if anything happens to either of you—”

  “It won’t.” Noel hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. “It won’t, all right?”

  “I hope you’re praying for safety and asking God for guidance. I’m praying every chance I get, and more.”

  And it’s not making much of a difference, is it? “Thanks, Mom. But this situation is beyond prayer.”

  His mom glared at Noel as they reached a red light. “Beyond prayer? Did I hear those words out of my son’s mouth?”

  “Mom, I—”

  From the backseat, Yasmine’s quiet voice chimed in. “You did. I heard them, too.”

  The light turned green, and his mother accelerated. He could almost feel the disappointment through her acceleration. “My own son. I thought I raised you right. You know God cares, no matter what. Nothing is beyond His care. Nothing.”

  A heavy silence descended inside the vehicle. Noel didn’t want to argue with his mother, and he needed to focus his attention on watching everything around them. The tension in his shoulders had only grown from hour to hour, ever since he’d confronted the false doctor in Yasmine’s hospital room. He felt as though he was counting down the minutes waiting for the next attack, blind to where it would come from and helpless to stop it.

  If it came at all, it would be too soon.

  * * *

  When they reached the bakery, Yasmine had to dig her fingers into the car seat to stop herself from running inside the store. She wanted to sit up and see how busy the parking lot was today, to go inside and take charge and make sure everything was being done right. Noel’s mother slid out of the car with a few semi-encouraging words—mostly a vague assurance that she and Auntie Zee had things under control, which didn’t do a lot to soothe Yasmine’s nerves—and Noel climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “Wait there one minute,” his mom called over her shoulder.

  “She gets thirty seconds,” Noel muttered. “We need to go.”

  Less than a minute later, Mrs. Black poked her head back into the car and plopped a paper bag down on the now-empty passenger seat. “A few rolls and some cookies. Zara and I thought you might need them after the day you’ve had.” She pulled two bottles of water out of her purse and handed them to Noel.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome. Be safe, Noel.” She rounded the car to lean in and kiss her son’s cheek, sending a pang through Yasmine’s insides. She didn’t often think of her parents—tried not to, in fact—but seeing how tenderly Mrs. Black treated her son made Yasmine regret that she hadn’t appreciated her own mother’s affections more when she’d had the chance.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Black.”

  Noel’s mom waved at her. “You’ll keep praying for him, won’t you?”

  Yasmine grinned. “Of course I will.”

  “God loves you, honey.” She disappeared from sight as Noel pulled the car away, a slight scowl on his face.

  “You don’t need to pray for me,” he muttered. “I can take care of myself. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “I’ll be fine, as long as I get one of those rolls.”

  At the next stoplight, Noel parceled out the good
ies. Yasmine’s mouth watered even before her first bite, and although she’d been nervous about Mrs. Black and Auntie Zee running the bakery today and getting the recipes right, one bite into the first roll and she knew she’d worried for nothing. They had it under control.

  Noel, on the other hand, did not. Every time he glanced in the rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of the intensity on his face. His big brother efforts to keep her safe were appreciated, but she had military training. She knew how to take care of herself. If it weren’t for a few cracked ribs, it’d be business as usual. Technically it still could be, so long as she didn’t attempt any heavy lifting or bending—cracked ribs were nothing compared to what could have broken.

  For Noel’s sake, she hoped that this mentor of his could shed some light on their situation. If Captain Simcoe was involved, why? Financial kickbacks? It made sense in a strange and twisted way, but she had a hard time believing that the competent and cooperative captain had a bad bone in his body. She’d met him before, after Daniel’s death, and found him both friendly and empathetic, despite his unwillingness to pursue her suspicions. But what did she know, really? Military training wasn’t the same as FBI training, and the FBI wasn’t the same as—

  Her train of thought sparked an idea.

  “Hey, Noel? Do you have a way to access financial records or anything like that? Maybe take a look at the facility’s emails?”

  Noel shook his head. “We’d need a warrant or subpoena for those kinds of records, and the FBI would have to take over the investigation first. I’m hoping to convince Crais to do that when we meet up. I don’t have the authority for it, not yet.”

  They lapsed back into silence as they drove. She didn’t want to distract Noel from paying close attention to the road, and truth be told, she didn’t know what else to say. Her eyelids drooped as the hum of the car’s engine tugged on her muscles and forced her to relax.

  “We’re here.” Noel’s hand reached around the back of his seat and tapped on her arm. “Rise and shine.”