12. Chapter Twelve
MATT
“Anna Black did have an interview scheduled at Willow Haven, and she did file a police report about a stolen car at a rest stop in Virginia,” Ian told Matt when he returned to the pub later that evening. Of course, he’d waited until he saw Anna and Mrs. Campbell return safely from their appointments or whatever.
“So, she was telling the truth.” Matt exhaled, feeling an odd sense of relief, but it didn’t last long.
“About that, yes,” Ian said.
Which Matt immediately took to mean she wasn’t telling the truth about something else. “Explain, please.”
“Legally speaking, Anna Black can’t work as a personal caregiver in the state of Pennsylvania. Among other things, she needs to prove she has a valid nursing license, or at the very least, has completed training and has sat for—and passed—a competency exam. Had she been hired at Willow Haven, they would have seen that she got the necessary certificates and whatnot as part of the onboarding process.”
“But she didn’t get the position, so they didn’t,” Matt reasoned. “That doesn’t mean she isn’t qualified or competent. I mean, she had to be to be considered for the job in the first place, right?”
“My thoughts exactly. Which is why I requested a copy of her application for employment.”
“They just gave it to you?”
“One of the board members is a family friend,” Ian told him, waving his hand as if inconsequential. “Under experience, Anna listed three prior caregiver positions over the last seven years. All elderly females with no close relations. Two now deceased, one in hospice.”
A knot tightened in Matt’s gut. “Any evidence of foul play?”
“None whatsoever. The deaths were deemed natural causes. The woman in hospice is in the final stages of Alzheimer’s. No signs of abuse or neglect.”
“Financial gain?”
“None that I can find. There’s no indication that she received anything more than her wages, which were reasonable compared to industry standards.”
“Okay.” So far, Ian hadn’t said anything to justify the niggling feeling Matt had that he was missing something. “So, what are you not telling me?”
Ian hesitated before answering. “It might be nothing, but … I haven’t been able to find anything that I can definitely tie to your woman prior to seven years ago.”
“She’s not my woman,” Matt protested.
Ian ignored him and continued, “Fear not. I’ll find her. Anna Black is a common name, and there are a lot of them to wade through. I could narrow things down if I knew where she spent the first twenty-some years of her life. Did Mrs. Campbell mention anything about where Anna might have grown up, gone to school, anything like that?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“That surprises me. From what Kieran says, Mrs. Campbell is a highly skilled interrogator.” Ian placed his forearms on the bar and leaned forward. “Hey, here’s an idea. Why don’t you ask her out?”
“Why would I do that?”
“She’s new to the area, right? Doesn’t know anyone or have any friends. Show some interest. Lay on the charm. Ask some questions. Get to know her.”
Matt frowned. Gathering intel through non-digital means was his specialty, and he had done a lot of things in the name of amassing intel without blinking an eye. But this felt different.
“Oh, come on,” Ian said with a smirk. “Don’t act like it’s a hardship. I’ve seen what she looks like, remember?”
Yes, she was attractive in a quiet, sexy librarian kind of way. The fact that she didn’t seem interested in him? A definite plus. And, sure, there had been those brief flashes of feminine appreciation in her pretty eyes both times he’d seen her, but beyond that, no interest.
Then again, as he’d rationalized earlier, there was no harm in being friendly. Playing the good neighbor. Engaging in a little harmless flirting. He wasn’t going to seduce her or anything. And it was for a good cause.
“All right.”
“Attaboy. Way to take one for the team.”
As Ian straightened and walked away to tend to a customer, Matt caught sight of Sean playing pool in the lounge. The guy was just as big as ever, though his hair was shorter than it had been the last time Matt had seen him. He was still rocking that very clear don’t fuck with me vibe. All of his uncles were forces to be reckoned with, but Sean was just extra.
“Hey, Uncle Sean.”
Sean looked up. “Hey, kid. Heard you were back. You up for a game?”
Matt shrugged. He knew from experience that Sean was a damn good player and he’d probably get his ass whipped, but he had nowhere he had to be and nothing he had to do. “Sure.”
Sean gathered the balls and racked them up while Matt grabbed a cue. Sean won the first game. Matt won the second.
“You’ve learned a few tricks,” Sean commented, approval in his eyes. “Best of three?”
Matt nodded. Beyond calculating angles and placements, it was a relatively mindless activity. That was a good thing because the conversation with Ian kept banging around in his head, along with potential ways of cozying up to Anna. Bonus: Sean wasn’t a big talker, so conversation was minimal. Or it had been.
“So, how was Honduras?” Sean asked casually out of the blue, lining up his shot.
Matt kept his expression carefully guarded. “Excuse me?”
“That’s where they sent you, wasn’t it?” Sean sank the ball and eyed the table. “Always been a hot spot. I hear it’s even more of a shit show now than it was thirty years ago.”
Matt cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t know.”
Sean smirked. “Right, me neither. Because I was never there.” Another shot, another perfect sink in the pocket.
Sean was playing so well; Matt wondered if he’d deliberately slacked off during the second game, letting him get the win so he’d let his guard down.
“You know,” Sean continued, “you remind me a lot of my friend, T. He had the look too.”
“What look is that?”
“Ultra-rich young playboy, looking to feed his dark appetites. Drugs. Sex. Weapons. Whatever. Different strokes, am I right?”
Matt said nothing. He remained off to the side and kept his eyes on the table. His poker face was a hell of a lot better than his pool game. When Sean finally missed a shot, Matt grabbed the chalk and ran it along the tip of his cue stick.
“Thing was, T wasn’t into any of that, but he did whatever his country asked him to do. He was young. Stupid. Believed he was doing something for the greater good.”
“So, what changed?” Matt couldn’t help but ask.
“He was too good at his job. Better even than they gave him credit for. He discovered who the true power was behind those multimillion-dollar deals, and spoiler alert: it wasn’t who they said it was. Needless to say, he became a liability. Those people he’d been working for all those years? They betrayed him. Set him up and left him to die in the goddamn rainforest.”
The seven ball kissed the corner pocket, but didn’t go in. Matt straightened and stepped back. Sean eyed the table and moved around to the far side.
“Did he? Die, I mean.”
Sean leaned down and took his shot, a smooth glide made by rock-steady hands. “Officially, yes.”
“What about unofficially?”
“Unofficially, one of his teammates wasn’t quite as naive as he was, followed him in, and saved his ass.”
Matt didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing.
Sean sank two more in quick succession. “The thing about people who die violent deaths though, they sometimes become vengeful spirits. Righting wrongs. Dispensing justice. They’re not bound by the rules of the living. Or their laws.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Call it a cautionary tale. When you’re really good at what you do, like he was, the powers that be want to take you to the next level. They promise you great things. Tell you how awesome you are, how you can make a real difference, yada yada yada. But what they don’t tell you is, you’re not fighting for freedom and democracy anymore. You’re working for them. They own you. And you are very much expendable, no matter how much smoke they blow up your ass. Eight ball, side pocket.”
Sean completed the run and straightened, returning the cue to the rack against the wall.
“What about the other guy?” Matt asked. “The one who saved him?”
“He kept his mouth shut. Finished his commitment and walked away.”
“And what? He resumed a normal, boring civilian life?”
Sean’s icy-blue eyes glittered as he offered a rare half smile. “Maybe not so boring. Anyway, good talk. Think about what I said, yeah?”