4. Jack
4
JACK
I grin at Sloane and her distaste at having us come in and take over. Her mouth puckers and her eyes narrow, and I already know being soft on her won’t work. It’s not going to be remotely possible.
This woman is begging to lash out, to find a safe target to unleash all of the pent-up anger and frustration on. I will gladly be the stand-in for her abuse.
“Don’t worry, we’ll only get in your way a little bit.”
She rolls her eyes and puts her hair up with a simple band. Bending, she shakes her mouse to wake up her computer. It comes on, and she turns to glare at me again, her hand on her hip.
Ooh, she’s sharp.
I press on her buttons just a little harder. “Like right now. Come walk me through what you found.”
She doesn’t jerk into movement like soldiers do when I tell them what to do. They assume it’s an order, but Sloane is a civilian. She looks past me to Boone for confirmation, and he nods. Sloane grabs her clipboard and marches into the warehouse without looking back to see whether I’m coming.
But I’m already on her tail. I try not to ogle her, but she’s prettier than I expected. And those pants are doing her all kinds of favors.
Shooting another look over her shoulder, Sloane can probably feel my eyes on her. It’s not personal, even if I can appreciate the way she downplays her beauty. She can’t hide it, though.
It’s my job to uncover how helpful she’ll be. How honest. How to best gain her trust.
We’re back in the dregs of the warehouse, tall steel shelves on either side of us reaching toward the ceiling. Most of the inventory is still wrapped in plastic, obviously waiting to be transported elsewhere when needed.
Her light blue blouse is a pop of color against the monochromatic workplace. And somehow, the fluorescent lighting doesn’t wash out her skin tone. Sloane looks lively and healthy, almost glowing in her element.
Walking me to a tall stack of crates and pallets of boxes, she points. “Wrong serial numbers. What’s on the boxes doesn’t match what’s on our manifest. The contents are correct.”
Sloane steps away as if to move on, but I catch her by the elbow to gently keep her put. I hold my hand out for her clipboard. Giving me a renewed frown, she looks at her arm until I drop it, and then she hands over her notes.
I don’t hold them long, seeing where she’s highlighted the wrong numbers and a checkmark for when she logged it. Nodding, I hand it back to her.
She’s off with a snap, and I enjoy how her hips sway from her hustle.
We make rounds in this part of the warehouse—more unmatched serial numbers. But the last one is odd. Tear gas containers packed as cleaning supplies. I can see why she said something. This isn’t a small mistake.
If it’s a mistake.
I have a feeling that there’s much more hidden among the old manifests that will share the same kind of error.
Sloane crosses her arms as I examine the canisters. Those stormy blue eyes analyze my features, trying to determine what I’m thinking. Am I taking her seriously?
She’s more than ready to dismiss me and go about her investigation on her own because she doesn’t have anything concrete. Not yet. But what she’s found is suspicious.
“How far back does this thread go?” I ask.
Her shoulders stiffen. “I only got to check through the last few days. This is what’s left in our warehouse that I found. More have already been dispatched to where they’re more useful on base.”
The way she shifts and looks back to the office tells me she’s keeping something a secret, holding something back.
Her suspicions of me and my team are a solid barrier between us.
Careful, darling, I will smash through. It’s only a matter of time.
Sloane crosses her arms again. Taps her foot. “Everything else is in the system. On the computer. And I have a delivery to oversee since the other supply specialist isn’t coming in today. I don’t have time to train you on it, so if you’ll excuse me?—”
I’ve never had a woman try to escape my presence with such precision. “Wait, Specialist Montgomery.”
She stops mid-step, wavering as if contemplating marching off like she didn’t hear me. It’s too late for that. Squaring her shoulders, she pivots on the spot and sets me on fire with her gaze. I’m sure she wishes I would actually burst into flames, but it just amplifies my heat.
I resist the urge to grin at her.
“We’re not done yet.”
“Why? Because you say so?” The anger in her eyes turns sharper, and I’ve pushed a button that I shouldn’t. A real trigger point.
“Because you haven’t told me everything.”
“There isn’t anything more to tell you. Like I said, I haven’t had much time to investigate.” And there is the crux, we’re not only in her way, but we’re also stepping on her toes.
Well, that’s our job, so I’m not at all surprised.
I step closer, the ace card still up my sleeve. “What about the visitor you had last night?”
The deep resentment pushing at her brows and the jut of her chin win me the point.
“He came in after everyone left last night…” I prompt her. “Walked you to a blind spot, out of the cameras, and… did what?”
Sloane stares into me, the silence spreading. What did he say to her? Why isn’t she telling us about it? Why hasn’t she said anything to her boss?
“We saw him on the video, so there’s no point in keeping it a secret.”
“Maybe he’s my secret lover and it’s none of your damn business.” Her voice turns into a threatening hiss, like she’s primed to strike if I push her one more inch.
“That’s not what it looked like to me. You didn’t know him. He frightened you.” I step closer, forcing her to look up at me.
The hard line of her jaw doesn’t bode well for me, but I’ve cracked harder nuts. “He didn't do much more than you’re trying to do now. Intimidate me. Keep me from doing my job.”
“And did you get a name?” This close to her, I can smell the sweet honeysuckle of her shampoo.
“You’re the investigators. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
I’m not really an investigator. At least, that’s not my main job. Gathering information, sure. Profiling people, absolutely. Solving crimes? Not really my bag. I just sweep in and save people who are in danger.
Like Sloane will be if there is something to what she’s found. And she needs to open up, to trust us, not stand in our way.
“Listen, I don’t know what he said to you, and there’s no way I could, so why don’t you tell me? There’s no point in keeping secrets.”
She grits her teeth because we’re keeping secrets from her, too. It’s a double-edged sword.
Normally, I wouldn’t push her like this. I’d have more fun prying information out of her and enjoy every inch she shoved back. I like a woman with some fire in her veins. One who’s not afraid to unleash it on me.
“Tell me.” I close more of the gap between us, watching as her pupils dilate—with hate or lust, I’m not sure. Maybe a combination of the two.
“He told me to drop it. And he knew my name before I introduced myself.”
I nod. “What did he say, exactly?”
“To stop looking into his supply orders or there will be consequences.”
Yeah. She’s stepped into a game that is way out of her league.
“And his name?”
Another flare of her nostrils. “Caspian Vorn.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Sloane spins on her heels and speeds back to the office. She’s pushing back through the door when I reach it, clipboard and pen in hand and a mutinous expression. Her shoulder nearly knocks into me on her way past, but I turn to watch her go, wondering if one of us should stay close.
Just in case.