Chapter 3 #3
“The school used to be a seminary. Hundreds of young boys used to stay there throughout the year, either because they were training for the priesthood, or because they were taking basic philosophy courses. The original building burned down in the early 1900s and, when it was rebuilt, the architects said they’d designed several passageways to prevent students from getting trapped inside the building if it ever caught fire again.
Those revised blueprints have been lost, and no one really knows whether those tunnels were or weren’t built.
In the early 2000s, when Nathan was a student there, a water main broke resulting in major reconstruction being done to the third, fourth, and fifth levels that are underground, along with the crypt.
It was during those renovations that Nathan began claiming he’d found the underground tunnels. ”
“And you’re worried that if those tunnels do exist, he’ll use them to sneak in, find a place in them to stash the money, and then get back out without anyone ever catching sight of him,” Hayes surmised.
“Correct,” Naomie replied with a grateful smile tossed in Hayes’ direction.
“We’re posting security cameras at the entrances and exits around campus, but this school is immense—if we deploy a massive workforce to secure the area and get eyes on possible rooms and places—”
“You’re afraid to spook them, and then you’ll have lost them for good,” Hayes concluded.
“That’s right, Agent Monroe.”
“Hayes, please,” he politely requested. She shot him a warm smile that was hard to miss. Hayes felt Beckett’s eyes boring holes into him as he focused on the wall of case data.
“So what’s the plan?” Beckett asked, giving her a hard look. “Do we have to dress like priests? Go undercover as schoolgirls? Hayes is the only one who could look good in a plaid skirt,” Beckett remarked sarcastically, gesturing towards the pictures of students walking to class.
“We’ll be sending in seven pairs of undercover agents to be stationed throughout the school. You will need to monitor your assigned area 24/7, and we’d keep a communication channel open at all times.” She pointed towards a recently updated set of blueprints posted on the wall.
“That’s where you need us? Inside the school? For a stakeout?” Hayes asked in an effort to understand exactly what her plan was.
“Yes. We already have teams monitoring the Fortier family residence and several other places Nathan might go, but this—” She turned to look at the school again. “This feels like our best bet, and we need to be subtle.”
“Should have started with that—subtlety is our bread and butter.” Beckett grinned and patted himself on the back.
Naomie scowled at Beckett. Hayes muffled his snort of laughter with a hand over his mouth, pretending to cough.
He had to admit it wasn’t very often he met anyone like her who was clearly immune to Beckett’s charm.
His methods and attitude were always unorthodox, which Hayes could firmly attest to, but usually, he grew on people like—fungi on expensive cheese.
Always undesirable at first—and then later highly praised.
Carl detected the rising tension in the room and rose to his feet. “How about I escort Agents Thérault and Monroe to the bunker so they can get outfitted and review the finer details of the operation?” He’d created the perfect opportunity for Naomie to get rid of them.
“Yes,” she said, with a decisive nod and tight smile. “Thank you, Carl.”
Carl led the way to the door, and Beckett quickly followed. Hayes slowly got to his feet, taking a final look at the display of data before heading for the doorway. On his way out, his gaze caught Naomie’s and he bowed his head politely.
“Hold up, Agent Monroe,” she said.
Hayes turned around and walked towards her.
“I trust Mr. Forbes. And you better believe that his glowing recommendation and your professional demeanor are the only reasons that your partner is still in my precinct. I will not be undermined by an agent. I don’t care what redneck state he popped out of.
If he can’t learn to work under a woman, I’ll kick his ass right back to the boonies where he belongs!
” She spoke so rapidly that Hayes barely had a chance to register what she was saying.
“Uh—” he said as looked into her eyes searchingly. Had she just—did she think—
“He’s actually Canadian—and I can assure you that Agent Thérault does not have any trouble working for a woman. He’s not—”
She held up a hand to stop him. “Spare me the excuses. Simply warn him, would you? I am not amused by insubordination nor immaturity. He is certainly not the only idiot with a gun willing to complete this mission. If he fails to cooperate, then I’ll move on to the next one in line.”
Hayes had an insane urge to laugh. It was so surreal—so goddamned ridiculous, that he could barely restrain himself.
But with no small amount of effort, he refrained.
First, because she’d stated precisely how she felt about insubordination.
Second, because he realised for the first time that she reminded him a little of himself.
Of the person he’d been only a few years ago.
The one who’d looked down on Beckett with disdain and had been so arrogantly dismissive.
He told her none of this, of course. There was little he could do at this point to change her mind about Beckett, so it wasn’t worth the effort to even try.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, nodding curtly and then walking out the door.