Cold Silence, page 22
Yael grabbed her jacket off the back of a chair and waved to Jack Reilly.
“Night, Jack.” He was the last person in the building, working in one of the glass offices. He waved back and checked his watch in surprise. He ran the personal protection side of the business which was transitioning fully to this site in the next six months.
Yael picked up her cell and checked for messages. Her heart gave a stumble when she saw that she had one from Shane that was a simple thumbs up.
She frowned. Then she realized he’d replied to a message from her that told him to “pop by later.”
Mortification hit her in a wave and then annoyance and then embarrassed amusement. She exhaled loudly.
“You good?” Jack was putting on his jacket and turning off all the lights.
“Yeah. You know. Just Laura.” Those words were enough and Jack laughed.
“Night.” Yael headed outside into the fresh January evening. Maybe she should take a few life lessons from Laura. After all, Yael was pretty sure Shane had said yes to coming over later. And while they might not be dating, she liked his company and she really liked the sex.
Plus, she wanted to know what had happened today. And, ironically, seeing him helped her to forget the evil and horrors that existed in the world.
Either way, it was too late to admit to him that she hadn’t been the one to send that text. Laura might have overstepped but Yael knew she cared about her. She’d figure it all out later but right now she was excited at the prospect of seeing Shane again.
20
Shane sat in a surveillance van with two TacOps agents from the FBI’s highly secretive “the Center” as they all pulled on Tyvek suits and surgical gloves. Spanish guitar music played faintly in the background as the agents argued over the merits of the best Argentinian restaurant in DC compared to Buenos Aires.
“You guys were in Argentina?” Shane asked.
They both stopped talking and turned to face him with blank expressions.
Dexter Kim, a big, friendly Asian guy, smiled. “No?”
Shane nodded. He understood. He wasn’t allowed to talk about a lot of his missions either. But he recalled there had been a thing in the Argentinian capital over Christmas when the US Ambassador’s daughter had been kidnapped.
Shane figured these two guys had been involved and he could only imagine in what clandestine capacity, considering local political figures, Russian oligarchs, and American diplomats had all been suspects in the abduction.
Shane looked out the side window of the van. Eric Pierce had been picked up near his place of work. The fact he’d gone for a gun suggested they had the right guy. Was it the same gun with which he’d shot Lloyd Zenko? Shane hoped so. It would be nice to tie the crimes together in a substantial knot that helped send this guy all the way to death row.
Pierce owned a modest ranch house at the end of a quiet bay that looked ridiculously ordinary for the home of an obscenely wealthy and sadistic serial killer. The neighbors had been warned to stay put.
Agents from the local field office were staging a block away, tasked with knocking on doors and interviewing anyone who might know this guy. An Evidence Recovery Team was kicking their heels waiting for Shane and the TacOps agents to finish the initial walk-through. Shane wanted to examine the guy’s place. See if it revealed anything about the person who’d murdered his best friend.
He watched as HRT prepared to move on the bungalow. Shane itched to be part of his assault team but had promised to stay in the van until they’d checked the place for explosives. He knew how tense these operations could be, even the routine arrests. All it took was an automatic weapon in the wrong hands or a bunch of C-4 and a blasting cap on a door and people could get hurt. After Texas, and then losing Montana, Shane didn’t intend to be a distraction for the other members of Gold team.
A signal came over the radio. “Clear.”
Meaning neither electronic sensors nor canine ones had indicated the presence of explosives. He watched Cadell remove Hugo from the area. Diego was with his handler on Charlie team about to go in with the assaulters even though there didn’t appear to be anyone inside.
Gold team got the “go” signal and Shane watched his counterpart on Charlie team set a charge on the front door and everyone crouch in readiness to burst inside the neat little home that still had Christmas lights strung up around the yard.
Shane held his breath as they rushed inside. Watching was worse than taking part. Multiplied by a thousand after Texas.
Before Houston they’d believed their own myth—that they were unkillable. Now they’d lost two of their own in less than a fortnight and Shane knew it had affected them all.
“All clear,” came through his headphones and Agent Kim gave him a nod. They stepped out of the van and headed inside.
The plan was that HRT were to leave as soon as the building was confirmed empty of threats and return to the local field office until they received word they were no longer needed. Then they could fly back to Quantico.
Shane hoped to be on that plane—especially after Yael’s text. He’d been worried she’d withdrawn again and wouldn’t want to see him once the case was over. Even though it was probably a bad idea in the long run, he wanted to be with her again. Her inviting him over was huge.
His cell buzzed with another text. Pierce was on his way to surgery. Shane hoped the man survived. He wanted him in court. He wanted him in jail and then prison. He wanted him to pay for his crimes.
When and if Pierce was stable, he’d be booked and transported to Virginia. Sloan planned for the task force to start interviewing him as soon as the doctors allowed. So far, the only words he’d uttered had been to demand a lawyer.
Yeah. Innocent men did not draw weapons on federal agents nor demand counsel while bleeding out.
Shane high-fived his teammates as he passed them. They all wore happy grins because they’d finally caught this motherfucker and obtained some measure of justice for Scotty. Not that it would help Grace or their kids, but it beat this guy being on the loose. Shane met Novak in the doorway.
“Nothing obviously hinky,” Novak stated.
The two TacOps agents split up. They were searching for all the electronics which Shane would take back with him to Quantico, including any hidden surveillance equipment, along with looking for anywhere this asshole may have stashed his crypto.
“Where are his computers?” asked Shane.
“There’s an office at the rear to the west. Doesn’t look like he uses it much.” Novak looked impatiently at the door. “We’re leaving the field office for the airport in ninety minutes unless we hear differently.” He headed off with the other operators.
Shane wandered through the house. It was nicely furnished but without any great design statements. Basic middle-class home of a single American male.
Shane found the office where Dexter was already bagging the computer and tech.
Shane took a few photos on his cell and sent one to Yael. The lounge had a worn-out couch and a large-screen TV attached to the wall above the open fireplace. A dusty gaming box sat on the console and even as he spotted it, the other tech guy came over to bag it.
A couple of framed photos sat on the sideboard that Shane took snaps of and forwarded to the task force to investigate. Maybe the guy had lost someone he loved or had some sort of bad experience that had set him on a life of crime. Except the guy was hardly living it up. If Shane had a few million dollars of ill-gotten gains in the bank, he’d at least have a beach house in Barbados or Mexico and not keep working the boring day job.
Not that Shane’s job was boring. People would pay good money to get even a glimpse of the sort of excitement he lived every single day.
He was wandering into the kitchen when Yael replied to his photo of the computer. “There has to be something else. Maybe a laptop?”
Shane checked the freezer but it contained nothing more exciting than ready meals and ice cream. The fridge had a bunch of salad and cheese. He stepped out to the garage but the place was empty except for a new lawn mower, some paint tins, and some unused-looking sports equipment.
He carefully pried the lid off one of the cans with a screwdriver he found on a shelf. He wore gloves. Found nothing except an inch of old varnish. The other cans were heavy enough to contain paint. He supposed the Bitcoin could be hidden inside in some sort of waterproof container but he wasn’t sure that would be the safest place. He left it for the evidence techs who were better at this stuff than he was.
He texted Ashley Chen the image of the office. Wrote back to Yael. “No sign of a laptop here. Maybe it’s at the office or in his car? I’ll get Ashley to check.” He fought the urge to call Yael, wanting to hear her voice.
He headed back inside. Dexter had placed the electronics near the door and was proceeding to remove every light switch, electrical socket and forced air grate. The other guy was examining the light fittings and sweeping underneath furniture.
Shane got that feeling again that something wasn’t right. “Does this feel like the home of a computer geek?”
Both men paused and looked at one another, and then at him. They shook their heads.
He called Ashley and she picked up immediately. “Did you find anything except that desktop?” she asked sharply.
“No, ma’am.”
She swore.
“Did agents find anything at his work desk or in his vehicle?” Shane asked.
“I’ll tell them to look again. We haven’t found his vehicle yet and he’s not saying a word about where it might be but then again, he’s been shot. We have people scouring the streets and nearby parking garages.”
“Maybe he has a bolt hole? Somewhere he stores all his computer gear?” Shane scratched the back of his neck and looked outside to see the Evidence Response Team preparing to come in.
“Probably. I’ll get people to start searching records. Where are you now?”
“About to leave his house and let ERT do their stuff.”
The TacOps guys were incredibly efficient and were about finished. They picked up the bags of electronics they’d stacked at the door.
Dexter spoke. “Tell whoever is on the phone there is no detectable hidden surveillance. We’ll give you a ride back to the FO if you want.”
Shane nodded. Something didn’t feel right but he couldn’t pin it down. Maybe he was being paranoid.
“I heard,” Ashley told him. “Have them drop by Pierce’s place of work first, will you? They might see something the other agents missed. I’ll have them hold the aircraft for you.”
“I’ll ask them.” The TacOps agents eyed him as they all headed past the ERTs with nods. “And as much as I would love to be on that flight, don’t make the guys wait around for me.”
The thing he hated most in the world was the incessant waiting in between the excitement.
“That’s not your call,” Ashley said quickly. “Blame me if you need a scapegoat, but I want those electronics in Quantico tonight.”
She rang off and Shane was left staring at the phone.
“Where to next?” Dexter asked with a wry grin after they’d stowed the evidence securely in the van.
“She wants you to check Pierce’s workspace in case the other agents missed anything,” Shane said, climbing inside the surveillance vehicle and closing the door.
The bald guy nodded and put the van in gear. Dexter started looking up directions to the office on his cell. The notes of some Latin American song rang loudly through the air in a surreal soundtrack that made Shane ache for the quiet peacefulness of working with Yael, or the boisterous camaraderie of the team. The fact he was more excited about seeing a woman again than working a case was a first. Scotty would have been proud of him.
21
A few hours later, Shane trudged off the transport plane at Andrews Air Force Base. Novak slapped him on the shoulder as the others jumped into vehicles. “Great job getting an ID by the way.”
Shane pulled a face. “Wasn’t me. Yael Brooks is the person who identified Pierce.”
“Tell her from me she did good next time you see her. If Pierce survives and is convicted, that fucker’s headed straight to death-row.”
In this case, Shane would bring party poppers to the sentencing. “I’ll let her know…next time I see her.”
Novak gave him a knowing look that Shane refused to acknowledge.
“You coming to the bar later to raise a toast to Scotty and Kurt?”
Shane’s throat swelled with sudden emotion. “Don’t you have to get home to feed the kittens?” he ground out.
Novak smiled. “Charlotte’s home. She promised to pick me up later and maybe join us. Tomorrow, we plan to go visit Grace. Do some chores around her place and give her a break from the kids.”
Shane nodded. “I’ll drop by on Sunday if there’s anything she needs.”
He thought about his friends and then he thought about Yael’s text. For the first time since he’d joined the FBI, he was torn about which to choose. Maybe she’d wanna come out for a drink too? After all, she was the one who’d led them to Pierce…
“I have to take this evidence to the lab straightaway for the techs to run a bunch of forensics overnight before the computer people can get started analyzing what’s on them in the morning.” He checked his watch. Twenty-one hundred. “I’ll see you at the bar as soon as I am done.”
Novak nodded. “See if Yael would like to join us. I, for one, would love to buy her a drink.”
Shane huffed out a quiet laugh. He should have known he wasn’t fooling anyone. He thought about the misplaced guilt she carried on her shoulders for Dave Monteith’s death and how, because of her intelligence and hard work, they’d finally arrested the suspect. Even though he wanted to keep her all to himself it wasn’t his call. She’d just moved to the area so she’d probably enjoy getting to know more people.
But how awkward would that be if they stopped seeing one another?
If?
The if surprised him.
He didn’t remember the last time he’d had a relationship last longer than three weeks. Most tended to end as soon as Gold team actively deployed for their sixty-day operations stint.
He shook his head at himself.
It was early days. He had no idea where the two of them would end up eventually. And he knew he’d have to tread carefully around Yael to have any hope with her at all. She’d obviously been hurt in the past and he didn’t want to be the next chump to screw with her.
He felt something for her. He just didn’t know what those feelings were or if they’d last. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to be in any kind of relationship—Grace’s grief and her fatherless children were clear reasons not to get involved.
Shane headed to his truck which he’d left near the hangar earlier. He called Yael but she didn’t answer so he left a message saying he was going to be late and asking did she want to join him for a quick drink at the bar with the guys. He headed over to Quantico and followed instructions to drop the evidence at the National Laboratory. One of the scientists was waiting for him when Shane got there. He signed off the evidence transfer and headed off base.
He was tired and didn’t really want to go for a beer but they hadn’t had the chance to raise a toast to Montana yet. The urge to head straight to Yael’s was equally strong. It wasn’t only the thought of sex driving him. He wasn’t an animal. It was the need to connect with her and tell her what had gone down thanks to her hard work. To thank her in person.
And if thanking turned into naked body worship, he didn’t consider that a problem. She’d been responsible for catching this bastard. He would worship her as much as she’d let him.
He checked his phone. She still hadn’t called or texted him back. Maybe she was asleep. They certainly hadn’t gotten much last night.
Bar or Yael’s place?
Shane wasn’t even sure which choice he was going to make until he took the turn to the bar almost against his better judgment. He parked and sat there, torn. Even the memory of her soft curves had him feeling restless again and he almost put his truck in gear. But these were his teammates. He didn’t really have a choice.
Someone rapped on his window. Cowboy stood there grinning at him.
Shane slid his phone in his pocket, pushed open his door and got out of the truck. He slipped his cast into the sling that hung around his neck because the bone ached and he should rest it.
“Where’s Yael?” Cowboy asked with a knowing smile.
Shane shook his head and shoved Ryan aside before pushing into the bar.
The guys were in their usual corner and a few shouts went up when they arrived. He laughed, feeling the warmth of belonging surround him. It felt good to be part of a group like this. A woman with long dark hair that reminded him of Yael’s sat next to Hunt Kincaid and was laughing at something Demarco—one of the snipers—said to her. Her arm banded her stomach she was laughing so hard.
What would Yael think of his friends? He checked his phone again. Still nothing.
Charlotte Blood walked in with another negotiator, Dominic Sheridan, and his fiancée. Novak swept Charlotte into his arms and gave her the sort of kiss that could blister paint. Everyone whooped and she blushed. Sheridan put his arms around the woman at his side.
A slow ache of loneliness began to build in Shane’s chest.
Cowboy and Will Griffin propped up the bar beside one another. They had a lot in common. Ryan Sullivan had lost his wife eight years ago and had a daughter who was being raised on the family ranch back in Big Sky Country. Shane had met the kid during a visit once. She was cute as hell and loved her dad but the guy was probably right about her being better off on the ranch. She loved it there and the Hostage Rescue Team didn’t keep routine hours. It would be impossible for a single parent to juggle working this job.
Novak quieted everyone down then raised his glass. “To Dave Monteith and Kurt Montana. Two of the strongest, smartest, and best HRT operators I ever knew. And the toughest, nicest people I ever had the honor to work with.”
