Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
E lliot stowed his bags and then made his way into the kitchen. He sat down at the table with his notes and called Guardian.
“Operator Two Seven Four, how may I route your call, Lima One?”
Elliot chuckled. “I’m not Lima One anymore.”
“According to all our paperwork, you are. Archangel was very insistent you don’t change call signs.”
“Probably for the best, old dog and new tricks being what they are.”
The operator laughed. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”
“Well, thanks. I need to talk to whoever is assigned to this case in CCS, and then I’ll need to talk to logistics.”
“CCS coming up. Con is your assigned operator.”
Con? Wow, that was way above his current pay grade. Jewell, Con, Brando, Ring, and Ethan were the elite CCS operators who served the hierarchy of the Guardian echelon, not personal security operators like himself.
“What’s up, Elliot?”
“Why are you my CCS specialist on this case? A bit of overkill, isn’t it?”
Con laughed. “Normally, I’d say yes, but when my mother is the one who called in favors for your client … not so much.”
“Your mom is?—”
“Yeah, let’s not dwell on that, okay? And don’t say her name. If you do, she magically appears, and then I have a bad day.”
Elliot chuckled. “You got it. I need some help. I need any camera feeds you have in front of the following address. I’m narrowing the dates and times down due to contextual clues from conversations with Ms. Callahan and her personal assistant. So, maybe expand the search parameters by a couple of hours either way?”
He could hear Con typing. “What are you looking for?”
“For the first address, the courier, license plate, or any information on the person who dropped off a dead rat.”
“The what now?”
“A dead rat sent in a gift box with the knife still through the thing’s body.”
“Fuck, so not your run-of-the-mill crazy, huh?”
“I’m not taking anything for face value on this. I need Dom Ops here in New York to process the box, animal, and knife. She also received a letter. I haven’t looked at it yet, but it’s part of the case.”
“I can initiate that. Pick up in an hour at your location?”
“Downstairs in the lobby. I’ll meet them there.”
“You got it. What else?”
“Do you have access to the cameras in the parking garage at this location?” Elliot was hoping he did.
“Yep. Not great coverage, but in and out at the keypad and in and out at the elevator.”
“Perfect. I’m not sure of the date yet. I’ll have to check, but Ms. Callahan’s car was vandalized. All four tires were slashed. She had it towed and sold.”
“I can find the date. It should be as simple as seeing who was authorized on the passkey from security. I can access their database.” Con made a hissing sound. “Dude, those simpletons don’t even have two-factor security on their system—not that that would stop anyone who’s had a minute’s worth of training. I’m in, and I’ll see what I can find.”
“Thanks.”
“Is that it?” Con asked. “You’re too easy.”
“For now, I need to handle logistics and set up a security system for her business and this apartment.”
“I can do that. It’s kind of my thing.” Con laughed. “I’ll get the best. From what I understand, Maya Callahan can afford it.”
“She doesn’t want camera surveillance at the office.”
“Why not?” Con’s shock echoed through the comment.
“She values her personnel’s privacy,” Elliot repeated the comment.
“More than she values her life?”
Elliot shrugged and said, “I’m trying to be accommodating.”
“Huh, well, okay, here’s the thing. You told me, right? If I forget and happen to install one or two very well-disguised cameras that don’t violate anyone’s privacy, would that be a bad thing?”
Elliot glanced at the kitchen door. “That would make me feel a lot better, but it isn’t what she wants. I must defer to her on this.”
Con chuckled. “Then you follow your instructions. I’ll follow mine.”
“Thank you,” Elliot said, smiling. Con would do it no matter what Elliot told him. That was a given. The man was a bit rogue, but he was damn good at what he did. One of the absolute best. Not the best. Elliot had met the best several times while guarding Archangel. It wasn’t who anyone would expect, but the man had designed Guardian’s systems back in the early days when he was still an adolescent. His brain worked on levels Elliot couldn’t comprehend.
“You’re welcome. I’ll handle the installation of security systems at her office and the apartment. You’ve got transportation taken care of?”
“I do.”
“Then let me get to work. I’ll have our contractors out the day after tomorrow to install. Can you handle one day with shit security?”
“I think I’ll manage.”
Con laughed. “Well, good on yah, then. Talk to you later.”
“Lima One is clear.” He hung up the phone and blinked as he realized he’d instinctively used his old call sign. It was definitely an old dog and new tricks type of thing.
He glanced at his watch and then called up a food delivery app on his phone. He hadn’t eaten anything except for the small lunch he’d had on the airplane, and after the workout that morning, his stomach thought his throat had been slit. He ordered, including something for Maya … damn it … Ms. Callahan in case she was hungry. He set the delivery time to be at roughly the same time as the Dom Ops personnel would arrive. Before that happened, though …
He returned to his room, opened his briefcase, and took out a sealed pair of latex gloves before retrieving the letter Jessica Hall had given him.
He carefully pulled the letter out of the bag and opened it. It looked as if newspaper and magazine letters had been cut out and pasted onto the paper. He narrowed his eyes. Both magazines and newspapers were scarce commodities in the current digital age, although some of the presses still survived. The message, however, lined up with the items delivered last night.
Die, you rat bitch
Direct and clear. He folded the letter and put it back in the bag. Not exactly a death threat, but the intent was clear, and the letter was received before the dead rat. If the same person had sent it, it was most definitely an escalation. Hopefully, there would be fingerprints or some genetic material not obscured by the handling of both objects. Dom Ops had access to the best private labs in the country, and Guardian didn’t have the backlog most of the public law enforcement agencies faced.
Elliot gathered both objects and carefully placed them on the nightstand in his room. He took off his jacket, removed his tie, and folded up the suit jacket, placing it in a paper bag. Whatever material Maya had slipped on was also on his jacket. He wanted it tested. He didn’t buy her declaration that it could have been spilled on the floor by accident. It almost seemed to be a silicone lubricant that had been wiped on the floor. The question was when and by whom.
Elliot unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. Then he placed the gift box and the letter in separate paper bags and sealed both, placing his initials on the seal and overlapping them onto the bag, starting the chain of custody.
He unpacked his clothes and made sure his suit for the following day was ready to go before making his way to the front reception area. As he exited the elevator, he smiled. Ross Stapleton, the long-time branch chief of the New York office of Guardian Security, was leaning against the reception desk and talking to the men working.
“Ross, you son of a bitch. It’s been too fucking long.”
“Sawyer, you asshole, you still look like shit.” Ross smiled as the men clasped hands and gave each other a quick clench and a slap on the back. “How have you been?” Ross asked.
He sobered immediately. Ross had been friends with a couple of his team. The man knew what he’d gone through at those funerals. He shrugged. “Hanging in there. Better now that I have an assignment.” Elliot lifted the bags he held in his left hand. “I need you to process these for me. The jacket has something on it I believe may have been intentionally placed to cause an accident. The others are self-explanatory.”
“I’ll make sure it has top priority.”
Elliot nodded. “Thank you.”
“Excuse me, sir. I don’t believe I’ve met you. My name is Dan Finely. I’m a retired NYPD officer, and I work here in the evenings. I had to do something to get away from the television news channels.”
Ross laughed. “Dan and I have worked together on too many cases to count. He’s a damn good cop.”
“Good to meet you.” Elliot shook his hand. “Were you here last night?”
“Yeah, I was. Me and Junior over there.” The man jerked his thumb in the direction of a younger man.
“Junior isn’t my name. I’m Tony Martell. I’m not ex-NYPD, but I’m marine trained.”
“Good to meet you, and thank you for your service.” Elliot shook the man’s hand.
“Short-lived as it was. Got me a fancy metal fake foot, a lifetime of a damn toe I can’t itch, and nice desk jobs like this.” Both Tony and Dan laughed.
“Nice is right, and the pay ain’t nothing to spit at either,” Dan said. “Rich people pay pretty darn good to have their access controlled.”
“Speaking of which, can you tell me what happened last night regarding the delivery for Ms. Callahan?”
Tony cocked his head. “Something wrong?”
“Just a question or two about who sent it,” Ross said. “Elliot here is taking over Ms. Callahan’s security until some business things get sorted out.”
“Right.” Elliot chuckled. “My month to babysit and play door guard.” He used the words Jade had used earlier.
Dan looked between the two men, and Elliot knew the older gent wasn’t thrown by his and Ross’s bullshit. Tony, however, bought it hook, line, and sinker. He pulled up a large book and flipped the page back. “Yeah, here it is. A guy walks in and has creds for South Allegiant Courier service. He signed in. Ben Henderson. I checked his badge and signed for the package. The guy was in and out in under a minute. Wimpy ass thing, too. You know one of those people no bigger than your finger?” He scratched his chin. “I took the package up after I called Ms. Callahan. I don’t think she was expecting anything based on how she acted.”
“She wasn’t.” Elliot nodded. “That’s why we’re asking the questions now. It was a surprise, and she isn’t sure who she should thank.”
The door opened again, and a young man with a purple mohawk, striped black and white socks, and a grumpy kitty T-shirt entered the lobby. “Grub delivery for Mr. Sawyer.”
“That’s me.” Elliot took the bags from the man and gave him a twenty-dollar tip.
“Thanks.” The man slid his helmet back on and left just as quickly as he’d entered.
“That’s my sign to get out of here. Elliot, you need to come over for dinner. Driscol will be upset if he doesn’t get to see you.”
“Depends on my schedule, but I’d like that.” He shook Ross’s hand, then turned to the security team. “Guys, good to meet you.”
“You let us know if you need anything,” Dan said. “Ross can vouch; I’ll be in your corner.”
“We’ll be in your corner,” Tony countered and rolled his eyes. “I might not be out in the ring, but I can be Mick to your Rocky.”
“More like the kid who holds the spit bucket,” Dan replied dryly.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a dick?” Tony shot back, and both men smiled.
“Yeah, you, every day.”
“Thanks.” Elliot smiled at the two of them before making his way back to the elevator. The smell of the food reminded him just how hungry he was.