Chapter 22
Austin
John’s number flashed on the caller ID of my personal cell phone late Thursday morning.
“Winchester.”
“Get your ass to the SSI office and be prepared to fill me in.”
My first instinct was to tell him I didn’t take orders from him, but I had just enough sense to recognize that he’d only call if something bad had happened.
“What happened?”
“Two more guys came to Grannie’s asking about Nina.”
That makes three. We hadn’t ID’d Ralph Smith yet, but it was only a matter of time. Maybe we’d have better luck with whoever showed up today.
“Is she safe?”
“I’ve assigned someone to protect her.”
Good, John’s bodyguard’s were top-tier operators.
“I’m on my way.”
I closed and packed my laptop, holstered my gun, and put on my navy blue jacket.
Still using my personal phone, I called Gibson.
“Gibson.”
“We need to go back to Weatherford. I’ll fill you in on the way.” Not that I knew much.
“Give me five.”
“Meet me in the garage.”
I locked my government issued laptop and phone in my office safe, and locked the door on my way out. If someone wanted access, they’d have to create one hell of a scene first.
In the garage, I swept my car for a tracker. Nothing.
I turned off all the location apps on my personal phone before turning it off. I was deactivating my car’s LoJack system when Gibson opened the passenger door.
“They’re going after her?” he guessed, messing with his phone. “It’s off.”
“They are,” I said, getting behind the wheel.
I started the car and pulled out of the parking garage. “We led them right to her.” A pang of guilt settled in and made itself at home in my gut.
But how? We’d only known a few days, and we’d worked off the record for half that time.
The aging app. Fuck. I’d run it on the company laptop using my credentials on the company program. Given the accuracy of the photo, they would’ve narrowed down possible IDs from facial recognition within hours.
Plus, knowing we were investigating the Singer case, they would’ve tracked us. In this day and age, it was easy for a professional to track someone without actually following them.
A blessing and a curse.
“Do we know who?”
“Not yet, but John has them on video, so we can use facial recognition.”
“Is she safe?” Gibson might act like a hard-ass, but he didn’t tolerate anyone hurting innocents.
“John assigned one of his guys.”
“We have to tell them, don’t we?”
We did. Keeping John’s team in the dark was no longer an option.
“We won’t tell them everything. It benefits us to have SSI providing Nina’s protection, but they need to know what they’re facing.”
“Agreed,” G said. I’d anticipated him giving me more grief. “Do you suspect they’re digging into Nina’s parents too?”
I didn’t suspect; I knew. I could give John stand down orders until I was blue in the face, but it wouldn’t make a difference. SSI protected their own, and they considered Nina family.
“I’d bet my left lung on it.”
He laughed. “I got that vibe from him.”
Coming from G, that was a compliment.
We set parameters for what we’d share as I drove.
“It’s no secret we’re investigating a cold case, but I haven’t talked to anyone,” Gibson said. “Have you?”
“No, but I aged Nina on my work laptop and didn’t start working off grid until after I suspected dirty officers. But before then, it would’ve been easy to track my investigation.”
“We need to find out who else has accessed the case files.”
“I have a feeling they’re covering their tracks.” Better than we had prior to working off grid.
“I would.”
So would I, which meant we were at a tactical disadvantage. They knew who we were, which cold case we’d linked to our current case, and apparently, they’d followed our trail to Nina.
The uncharacteristic pang of guilt I’d felt swelled. The young, innocent woman with the beautiful, expressive blue eyes had me feeling things I couldn’t afford to feel.
Attraction. Desire. Guilt. Responsibility. Protective.
Attraction and desire happened, despite my family thinking I was an emotionless robot, but I wouldn’t act on them. And I could shove the guilt down and pretend it didn’t exist.
I’d hold on to the responsibility, knowing I’d placed her in danger. I vow to keep her safe. The deep-seated need to protect her had me flying down the highway like a man possessed.
The beautiful woman in the cherry dress was too young, too innocent, and protected by my uncle. I could help her, but there was no way in hell anything could happen between us.
Needing a distraction from my inappropriate thoughts of Nina, I thought about my ex-wife. She’d accused me of cheating and tried to take me to the cleaners. It’d taken me fifteen minutes to pull up all the evidence I needed to prove she was the one cheating.
One benefit of my job, there wasn’t a camera I couldn’t access if I tried hard enough.
She’d thrown a hissy fit in court, but in the end settled for a modest alimony check. One I no longer had to pay, because she’d married some other unsuspecting fool.
By the time they said their vows, I was indifferent. I’d stopped the automatic payment with the same level of emotion I used to tie my shoes.
I didn’t want or need a relationship. My job kept be busy and on the move, and the last thing I wanted was another wife cheating on me because I left her alone too often.
The occasional date to find a consenting partner to meet my desires was enough for me.
“We need a third party,” Gibson interrupted my train of thought.
“What?”
“We need someone with CIA access who can’t be linked to us.”
“Right,” I nodded absentmindedly.
“Dude, do I need to worry about you?” he asked.
“No, I’m good.” At least I would be by the time we reached Weatherford. “When we get to SSI, I want Sharpe to sweep our phones for trackers.”
“That’s fine. I left my company phone in my safe.”
“Same. Laptop too.”
“Going dark was always my favorite,” Gibson joked.
“You’re fucking touched, dude.”
If I had to go rogue to solve a case, there was no one I wanted at my side more than Ryan “G” Gibson.
He’d pound on a problem until he’d solved it.
And he’d eliminate anyone who needed to be put down.
Being lethal with his hands and most weapons made him dangerous, but it was his mind that our enemies needed to fear.
Gibson was brains and brawn, and I got a kick out of watching people underestimate him.
“Don’t you forget it.”
“Hi, Meg. John’s expecting us.”
“Hey, Austin. He’ll be right down.”
“Nice office,” Gibson said after surveying the bright, spacious lobby lit by sunlight flowing through the second story skylight.
“It’s new.”
“I know.” I could hear the humor in his voice, despite it not showing on his face.
Like me, he’d done his homework and knew more about SSI and everyone who worked there than they’d be comfortable with us knowing.
“Winchester. Gibson,” Jay greeted us as he approached the reception desk. “Thanks, Meg. I’ll take them up.”
She gave him a lazy salute and went back to typing at her desk.
Glass walls lined the large conference room on the second floor.
Not secure.
I could see John, Jamie, Jack, Cate, and Doug inside.
“Did he call in everyone?” Gibson asked.
“Blaszek and Robinson aren’t here,” Jay answered.
Nathan Blaszek. Navy SEAL and civilian black ops. Captured while doing deep undercover work infiltrating a domestic terrorist cell. Married to Ashley York. Soon to be a father.
Matthew Robinson. Troubled youth who spent teen years on a ranch for wayward kids before joining the Navy and becoming a SEAL.
On paper, everyone at SSI was top-notch and trustworthy.
In reality, they’d have to earn my trust.
“John, can we speak in private for a moment?”
“No. This is bigger than your secret.” He looked at everyone in the room. “I trust my team.”
Half of whom were my family.
“John,” I used my authoritative, government badge-holding voice.
“Austin.” John was one hundred percent unphased.
Gibson laughed at my uncomfortable standoff with my uncle. “Your call, boss.”
“Take a seat,” John said.
Gibson did. I didn’t.
John grinned.
“This dick measuring contest is fun to watch, but maybe you two can put them away so we can get to work,” Jay said, leaning against the back wall.
Christ, Jay’s as touched as Gibson.
“How secure is the room?” I asked, tilting my head towards the two walls of windows; one ran along the hall, the other ran along the back, giving us a view of the back lot.
“Sharpe.”
Blackout screens rolled down, shutting out the outside world.
“Sound?”
“Isolated and secure.”
“So, I’m guessing you’re not just handling supply chain logistics?” Jack asked, confirming John and Jay hadn’t shared our secrets.
I looked at Gibson, knowing I couldn’t out myself without outing him. He nodded, confirming our earlier agreement.
“No.” I admitted. “Though I do work for the government. The CIA, to be exact. This is Officer Ryan Gibson.”
Gibson saluted as jaws dropped. They recovered quickly, and I continued.
Skipping small talk, I said, “I need to know what happened today.”
“Two men came into Grannie’s asking about Nina.” Images appeared on the screen behind John.
“I’ll need a copy of the footage.”
“I need an email,” Doug said.
“Gibson?”
“On it.” He talked to Doug while John told me the rest.
I stared at the screen while he spoke.
“They claimed to be old family friends who had information about her parents.”
“Did you get any contact information?”
“Yes.” John handed me a business card. “The number goes to a burner.”
“That’s what I’d do,” Gibson said.
Me too. Using a burner was textbook spy craft.
“Where’s Nina now?”
“At Grannie’s. Robinson’s with Nina and Blaszek is watching her grandmother’s house.”
“Did they see her?”
“No, she was in Mary’s office.”
“Play it again,” I said when the footage ended. I watched, noting their mannerisms and body language.
“They’re pros,” Gibson said before I voiced the same observation.
“CIA?” Jay asked.
“Probably not; they have textbook gun-for-hire energy.”
The two white men appeared to be in their late thirties.
“I’m running facial recognition, but no hits yet.”
“If they’re pros, you won’t get one,” I said. “We’ll run it on our end.”
“I can have someone run it through the FBI database,” Cate offered.
Gibson and I shared a look. His raised eyebrow matched mine. I nodded.
“Thanks, that’d be helpful. You have someone you can trust to keep it on the DL?”
“Yes, sir.”
The FBI and CIA rarely played nice, but we had access to shared databases. Unless they’d had their IDs erased or were deep undercover for the CIA, Cate’s contact should discover their names without revealing that Gibson and I were digging around.
“How hidden are Grannie’s cameras?” Gibson asked.
Not hidden enough, I’d noticed them immediately.
But you know your family, and the shit they’ve been through. I knew to look.
Had these guys done their research? Would they know to look?
No, they hadn’t, or they wouldn’t have risked being caught on any camera.
Or maybe they’re not worried about showing their faces.
Which meant we wouldn’t get a hit.
“Completely,” Doug answered. “Only the external cameras serve as deterrents.”
“We’ve had some trouble, and we didn’t want anyone knowing we could tag them in the shop,” John added.
“Aren’t you worried about Mary? About Beth?” I asked.
Doug didn’t answer, but his face told me all I needed to know. He’s worried.
“Have you met my wife?” John asked.
I had, but apparently my childhood memories and dossier didn’t tell the full story if John wasn’t worried about her safety.
“Ma won’t let us hover,” Jamie added.
John’s phone buzzed. “Nina’s shift is over. Should Robinson bring her here?”