After a few moments, TJ tossed it back under the bed. He wasn’t a thief.
The weight of the camera over his shoulder mocked him, but TJ only wanted to take a look, then he’d bring it back. Malcolm would never even know it was missing.
* * *
Novak waited for Charlotte in the hallway outside the bathroom, needing to clear the air before they got back to work. People’s lives depended on them not fucking this up. Their careers depended on it too.
McKenzie found him. “Glad you’re taking ‘glued at the hip’ to heart.”
Novak rolled his eyes. McKenzie had no idea how desperate Novak was to be right there with Charlotte.
“Don’t you think it’s a little extreme?” he asked.
“When I arrived, you two were ready to get in the ring and go ten rounds. My solution made you work past your differences quickly. I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t wanted you both on the team, but I was serious about sending you home. I need a team that’s cohesive, not divisive.”
Novak grunted. McKenzie’s decision had consequences none of them had anticipated.
He heard the toilet flush and it startled him.
“We should move.” Novak started herding McKenzie down the stairs even though his boss was also a big guy. He didn’t care if it annoyed him or not. He didn’t want to blind-side Charlotte. “I don’t want to look like a stalker.”
McKenzie nodded. “Good point. Let’s grab some food and debrief at the Command Center afterwards.”
Novak was itching to get back to his men, but he knew there were no real updates. They were still in a holding pattern. Sniper teams and SWAT had rotated again, and those not on duty were getting some rest.
Novak was worried about the weather. A winter storm was forecast for tomorrow. While they trained in winter conditions, he would not risk HRT lives if a blizzard blew in. They had the technology to watch the compound, although even that could be disrupted by the adverse weather conditions. He wasn’t happy about it, but at some point, they might have to withdraw and wait out the storm.
He was scooping chili into a bowl when Charlotte appeared in the doorway. He prepared another serving while McKenzie hunted for clean cutlery.
They kept conversation to a low hum as the cook bustled around, tidying away things and prepping for breakfast. Novak scowled at the pot of oatmeal she had bubbling on the stove. He definitely preferred the bacon option.
Charlotte had applied some makeup and lipstick, and no one would know she’d kissed the fuck out of him a few minutes ago.
No one except him.
When they were done, they cleared the dirty dishes into the next load of the industrial-sized dishwasher and headed outside into the frigid night. Thankfully, Charlotte had remembered to grab her jacket this time.
“You aren’t cold?” she asked him as they both ducked their faces out of the wind.
Was she kidding? His heart rate was still revved up with nowhere to go. He was grateful he wasn’t sporting wood.
“I’m fine.”
They went inside the Command Center. Charlotte hurried over to the negotiators he didn’t know. They looked bored shitless. The one woman was cleaning her gun.
When it was obvious nothing had changed, they stepped toward the other side of the screen. Charlotte kept throwing him uncertain glances, and he remembered her telling him earlier that she didn’t like him blowing hot and cold all the time. At the time he hadn’t understood, but now he realized he’d snapped at her in the bedroom seconds after comforting and kissing the hell out of her. He was an asshole. He stopped her before they went around the corner to speak to McKenzie.
“Charlotte, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” He opened his mouth to explain further, but McKenzie yelled, “Novak, Blood, get in here!”
Rather than clearing the air, if anything, his apology appeared to make her angry.
They didn’t have time to sort this out. They hurried around the corner into the space McKenzie had commandeered. Agent Truman smiled at Charlotte and Novak breathed in deeply through his nose. He was not jealous of the fucker.
Nope. No.
Liar.
“You’ll want to hear this. We received an ID on one of the men we isolated in the video.”
Another agent had two images open on a laptop. One was a wanted poster. Beside it was a still from the drone footage they’d taken that morning.
The wanted poster was for a man called Mark Roberts.
“Truman asked the women who left the bunker to identify this man for him, and they named him as Malcolm Resnick.” McKenzie pulled up an old DMV picture of a much younger man with no mustache and a lot more hair.
“Which identity is the real one?” Charlotte asked, leaning forward.
“Malcolm Robert Resnick is the name of Tom Harrison’s late wife’s brother. Half the people there are named Resnick. Mark Roberts was a false identity he apparently used for many years when he was involved with Nationalist and White Supremacist groups out east.”
“What did he do?” Charlotte pointed to the wanted poster.
McKenzie’s expression pinched. “Killed a reporter who infiltrated their organization. By the time the cops found the body ‘Mark Roberts’ had disappeared.”
“So he has good reason not to want to come out.” Charlotte frowned. “I still don’t understand Tom Harrison’s reasons though. The fact he won’t even let TJ talk to us. Any updates on his life over the last eighteen years?”
McKenzie leaned back in his chair. “All he’s done is settle into his burrow with his wife and child. Locals say he was never any trouble, always polite but aloof and unassuming. Moved here when TJ was two or thereabouts.”
“Did they go to church?” Novak asked.
“Some of them do,” McKenzie acceded. “Harrison and his wife went occasionally but generally kept to themselves. They never really interacted with the town socially. TJ never went to school or had sleepovers with friends. Interestingly enough, Malcolm Resnick has been leading some prayer groups at the compound.”
“Is he a godly man?” asked Charlotte.
She sounded doubtful, but murder and religion weren’t mutually exclusive in some parts the US. The twenty-first century was a lot more “Old Testament” than “turn the other cheek” even if a lot of people were too blind to recognize the difference.
“Or is he staging a coup?” Novak asked. “When did Resnick arrive here?”
“The journalist went missing in February. They didn’t find the body until late March. The women said Malcolm Resnick arrived sometime around then but weren’t a hundred percent sure of the date.”
“When did Tom’s wife die?” Charlotte asked.
“You think he killed her?” Novak asked sharply.
Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know. But it feels like this has been a big year for the Harrisons, one way or another.”
McKenzie scratched his neck. “It’s an interesting thought. Let’s see if we can find out if and where she’s buried. We can exhume her body.”
“That might anger Tom Harrison and his son.”
McKenzie looked unimpressed. “He lost his right to too much consideration when he threatened to blow the place up with everyone in it. What did you get out of Kayla?”
“She and TJ met in the late spring. They’ve been seeing one another every Wednesday morning for most of the summer and fall.” Charlotte looked at him. “My guess is that, when Kayla became sick, Brenna went to meet him. I don’t know if that was to tell him to stay away from Kayla or simply to tell him his girlfriend was too sick to meet him.”
Charlotte repeated the information Kayla had given them about Brenna’s background, and McKenzie’s team started tapping into other databases.
“Did we find their families yet?”
McKenzie looked over his shoulder at them. “Brenna has a mom in Pittsburgh. Alcoholic and an addict. Father unknown. Kayla comes from a middle-class background and has some money. Her parents died in a car wr
eck about eighteen months ago. There’s an elderly grandfather, but he’s got dementia and is in a nursing facility.”
“She told me she had some money put aside.”
McKenzie nodded. “She has a trust fund created with the compensation she received, but she doesn’t get full control until she’s twenty-one.”
“So she’s roughing it for a couple of years?” Novak asked.
McKenzie rolled his shoulders. “I guess. She can afford a lot more than a tent, but I have to give her props for standing up for what she believes in. The lawyer handling her estate wants permission to come here and take her back home. I’m sure he’ll be drawing up papers.”
“Kayla’s an adult,” Charlotte said crossly. “She has the right to choose how she lives her life.”
“Think Brenna didn’t want to lose her golden ticket so told TJ to get lost?” Novak asked.
“Cynic.” Charlotte crossed her arms, looking as if she’d forgotten what he tasted like.
Whatever was in his eyes made her remember though. Color rose in her cheeks, and she turned away.
He frowned. He needed to figure out how to hide the feelings he had for her. It wasn’t like this was usually hard for him. But she’d kissed him. She’d kissed him like she meant it. Not overwrought with emotion. She’d kissed him with intent. With heat. With lust.
And although he might not have admitted it to himself before, hadn’t allowed himself to, he’d been attracted to her since the first time he’d seen her last summer on the way to a prison siege in New York State.
But he was taking everything way too seriously. He needed to go with the flow. People kissed one another. It happened. It had just never happened to him on the job before.
“Novak has a point,” McKenzie stated. “Brenna could have told TJ to back off and that Kayla didn’t want him anymore, and he might have lashed out.”
“Or maybe Brenna went up to pass on a message to TJ but met someone else instead. Maybe she bumped into Malcolm Resnick, and he worried she might recognize him and killed her,” Charlotte suggested. “Or maybe it was the man who reported being stalked by the cougar to FWO Jones.”
Novak suppressed a smile.
“What?” Charlotte eyed him narrowly.
“You don’t want to think badly of Brenna because she had a tough life,” Novak told her honestly. “But people with tough lives often end up as hard-ass people.”
Ask him how he knew.
“None of it explains why Tom Harrison won’t even talk to us,” Charlotte grumbled. “I want to go over the transcript of what he said to us earlier again.”
McKenzie nodded. “Do we tell them we know about Malcolm being a wanted man?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Malcolm Resnick probably thinks he’s flying under the radar. Tom either doesn’t know and telling him won’t change anything unless we prove Malcolm had something to do with Brenna’s death. Or Tom does know and wants to protect his brother-in-law.”
“Also, if Malcolm discovers that we know he’s in there, that might prompt them to look for surveillance bugs,” Novak added.
“License plates didn’t come back in his name?” Charlotte asked.
McKenzie shook his head.
“It could also prompt a change in leadership if Tom decides to surrender. Malcolm knows he’s facing the possibility of the needle if we arrest and convict him,” said Charlotte.
McKenzie jerked his chin in acknowledgment or approval. “Kayla say anything else?”
“Don’t forget the camera and the professor,” Novak prompted Charlotte, who looked like she was about to shake her head.
“Oh yeah. According to Kayla, Brenna was a decent photographer and sold her pictures online. Check to see if she has a website, would you?” Charlotte directed her question at one of McKenzie’s team. “Also, check if there was an SLR camera found in her tent or car. If there wasn’t, it might be worth getting a search team to scour the hillside.”
“The evidence guys did a pretty comprehensive search on Wednesday afternoon.” Truman rested a hip on the desk.
Even Novak could see the other agent was handsome enough to set hearts a-fluttering. He gritted his teeth.
“Enough that they’d have found a camera if it had been there.” Truman finished.
“We should expand the search area,” said Charlotte.
“You thinking she might have photographs of her killer?” Novak asked.
“It’s possible.”
“Perhaps the killer took it?” Novak suggested.
“Bob Jones didn’t mention anything about a camera.” Charlotte’s cheeks bunched as she drew her lips tight. It was her thinking expression. Cute as fuck.
“Maybe he didn’t notice it? Someone should ask if he saw anyone that morning carrying a camera. Want us to do it?” Novak asked McKenzie who quickly shook his head.
Novak quelled the shaft of disappointment that went through him. It was almost eight PM and this time tomorrow night he and Charlotte would no longer be required to work so closely together. He’d be back with his men where he belonged. Charlotte would be in here with the other negotiators. He didn’t understand why this didn’t fill him with insane amounts of satisfaction.
“According to Kayla, Brenna was gang raped in high school and had a series of abusive relationships culminating in a guy called Simon who Kayla thought might be violent. I’ll try to get a surname from her in the morning.”
“Ex could have followed her here and killed her. It’s extreme, but if this guy held a grudge and figured out where the women were…it’s definitely possible,” said Novak.
“And the professor?” McKenzie prompted.
Charlotte looked at him.
Novak unfolded his arms. “Alan Kennedy. He’s the one who initially told me which tent Brenna stayed in. When I spoke to him, he gave me the impression he barely knew the women, but Kayla said she’d seen him and Brenna flirting.”
McKenzie pulled a face. “I know a lot of guys who flirt with women they barely know. It’s kind of the point. I also understand why he might not have admitted it after seeing a photograph of the woman in question lying on a slab.” He stood. “Have an agent visit him again. Push him hard on exactly how well he knew the girls and his alibi for Wednesday morning.” Then he jerked his chin. “We need to get a look at the inside of that building tonight.”
“Agreed.” Novak checked his wristwatch. “After midnight, when most of the inhabitants have gone to sleep.”
McKenzie looked frustrated. Novak knew how he felt on about a hundred different levels.
“Okay. We’ll reconvene in the barn at midnight,” McKenzie agreed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Even though Novak looked like he was about to crawl the walls with frustration, Charlotte had called the CNU team together for a quick debrief and to inform them they needed to be in the barn at midnight.
Eban came in the door. He gave her a tired grin, having recently woken up. Lines of strain bracketed his mouth and eyes. He sat next to her and dragged his hand through hair that was getting shaggy. The others were discussing possible ways to use the media channels they’d created to reach out to the people inside the compound.
“What did I miss?” he asked.
“We suspect Brenna went to tell TJ Kayla was sick as the two had a standing Wednesday morning date. There’s a wanted killer inside the bunker name of Malcolm Resnick, oh, and FWO Jones met a guy who reported being stalked by a cougar just before Jones headed up the trail.”
She took a sip of water from the bottle she carried. “I want us to come up with a narrative that will work well over the bullhorn as well as construct a general email to all the inhabitants of the facility reassuring them we mean no harm.”
“Why not print leaflets?” Eban joked.
“That is actually a good idea. I’ll ask McKenzie to send a requisition request into Quantico.”
Eban groaned. “Jesus.”
“We can get a drone to deliver them. A g
reat big one. It’ll serve two purposes. They know we have drones but let them think of them as these huge things, not the sort that can crawl inside the place and act as a listening device.” She told them all about the bug that HRT had inserted and how they were going to try and take a little tour of the facilities as soon as the inhabitants went to sleep.
“Cool.” Dominic sprawled in the next chair over with his hands cradled behind his head.
“The leaflets will tell everyone inside that we don’t mean to harm them.”
“They might not believe us,” Eban said.
“And they might. Maybe someone will open the door or people will simply leave. We could put a phone number on there to reach the women in the church hall. They can ask how they’re being treated and reassure those inside we don’t eat babies.”
“At least not yet,” Novak said with a sly grin creasing one side of his mouth as he leaned against the wall, looking like the hottest piece of man flesh Charlotte had ever laid eyes on. And it wasn’t even the primary reason she was attracted to him. She actually was more drawn to the fact that he listened to her now and supported her. Dammit.
It had been so easy to be attracted to Agent Truman. So damn easy. He fit into every fantasy of Happily Ever After she’d ever had. Novak? Not so much.
But how had a phenomenal kiss and moment of intimacy gone so off track?
She’d messed it up by saying she wanted to keep the kiss a secret. But it wasn’t because she was ashamed of him. It was because no matter McKenzie’s seventy-two-hour edict about them teaming up—as soon as they revealed a personal relationship, Bureau policy demanded they be separated. She didn’t want that. She wanted to see this incident through. She wanted these people safely out of that fortress before anyone else got hurt.
That included HRT.
She also wanted to explore the unusual feelings she had regarding Supervisory Special Agent Payne Novak while they had this chance. But couldn’t do that if they went public. She knew this chemistry wasn’t a common occurrence. She’d been forced to spend time with the opposite sex before. She, Dominic, and Eban often shared quarters, but that had always felt like bunking with a BFF. She’d certainly never wanted to kiss the face off one of her CNU colleagues.
Cold Wicked Lies Page 22
