Hard to Handle (19 page)

Kaylee felt a shiver of fear trickle down her spine.

“I did some research for any similar devices using a few possible schematics,” Renee continued, pointing to a few other images and technical drawings. “They're very popular in Mexico, Greece, and almost every conflict-ridden country in Africa and the Middle East. Much less popular in the United States, but I found five reports over the last few years.”

“One in particular caught my attention. From last year, in Rockville, Maryland,” Sam explained as he pulled up pictures from an online news report. “The car blew up in the parking lot in front of a post office, and belonged to a woman that worked there. But the post office is right across the street from one of the city planning offices.”

The group around the table was silent for a few seconds.

“Another message,” Raymond finally said.

“Looks like we have a plan for the next few days,” Sam declared as he stepped back to stand in front of the Fortis team and Kaylee. “Raymond will continue looking through any information from four years ago. Kaylee will arrange a meeting with Mark McMann. Evan and I will set up surveillance at the Ross sites. Renee, can you review our security footage again to see if we can identify who triggered the explosive or when they planted it on the car?”

Everyone nodded, then went back to working at their computers. Kaylee went into the living area and sat down on the sofa with her cell phone to catch up on some work for Antonoli. Despite the efforts to go after the people responsible for the threats against her and her dad, there was still a business to run. Annie and Paul were dedicated employees, as were many of the tradespeople working at the two building sites in Brooklyn. Kaylee had a responsibility to them until other arrangements were made.

At around seven o'clock, the team took a break. Sam took Niko out for a walk again, and then he sat with Renee and Raymond at the kitchen table for dinner. Evan took his plate back to the dining table to eat in front of his computer. Kaylee returned to the sofa and ate while watching the news. But her stomach churned from the obvious rift between Sam and Evan, ruining her appetite.

Evan, Renee, and Raymond stayed for another couple of hours, doing a little more work and sharing information, then went back to their hotel rooms for the night. Sam continued working in the kitchen so Kaylee went to her room for some much-needed rest. But as she lay in bed under the covers, she kept hoping for a knock at her door. In her imagination, it would be Sam, feeling as relieved as she was to have all their secrets out in the open. There would be no barriers between them, and new possibilities.

But of course, it didn't happen. She fell asleep alone with her wishful thinking.

CHAPTER 19

“What're you wearing?” Evan asked in a husky voice.

It was Sunday night, and he was in his hotel talking to his girlfriend, Nia, through a video chat application. Nia smiled seductively. He could see that she was lying back in their bed, with a couple of down pillows behind her head.

“Right now? Let me see.” She kept the camera on her copper-brown face but was looking down at her body. “I'm wearing those pink panties you really like. The see-through ones, and . . .”

“And?” he prompted, loving how much she teased him.

“And nothing else.” Evan groaned. “Would you like to see what I mean?”

“I think I would,” he replied with an appreciative smile.

“Okay, but under one condition.”

“And what's that?”

“You tell me what's going on with you.”

“What?” he asked, confused. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Yes, you do, Evan. You've been acting weird ever since you got to New York. So tell me what's going on, and maybe I'll reward you.”

Evan sighed. Nia James was very sharp and she knew him very well.

“Maybe?”

“It depends on how long it takes for you to stop pretending it's nothing,” she explained with absolutely no remorse. “Is it Mikayla?”

“Yeah. No. I don't know,” he replied, obviously conflicted.

It had been three days since he had learned about Sam and Mikayla, and Evan was still struggling with the knowledge. While his blinding anger had faded somewhat, the idea of his friend sleeping with his fiancée remained an uncomfortable fact. It was also aggravating trying to figure out why it mattered at all four years later.

“What does that mean?” Nia asked when he didn't explain his convoluted answer.

“Yes, it has to do with Mikayla, but not just her,” he said, certain it wouldn't satisfy her.

“Are things okay there on the assignment? I thought you said she was safe now.”

“She is. There's no immediate danger. Most of our leads have hit a dead end, but we're focusing on detailed surveillance now,” Evan told her. “In fact, I've just spent another fifteen hours in a car or hiding behind dusty equipment. For the second day in a row.”

“Poor sweetheart, I'm sure you could use a little help relaxing,” Nia suggested.

“I'm pretty tense.”

“Well, I'm happy to help. Once you tell me what's bothering you,” she persisted. “Is it about Mikayla or not?”

Evan sighed, wishing she were more easily distracted.

“Yes, but not the mission.”

“Baby, you're starting to lose credits here. In fact, I'm starting to feel a little sleepy.”

“Okay, okay,” Evan conceded, amused despite his internal turmoil. Then he told her a very simplified version of the facts.

“Wow, I did not see that one coming,” she said afterward. “Though it does explain a few things.”

“Really? Like what?” he asked, wondering how anything about it could provide clarity.

“Sam,” Nia said, as though there were something obvious Evan should know. “He's always seemed a little . . . lonely to me.”

“What?” Evan demanded with a loud snort. “Lonely how? He's not exactly a choirboy, Nia. The man gets plenty of action, trust me. Not as much as Lucas, of course. That is, before Lucas met Alex in the spring and lost his mind. But you get my point.”

“I'm not talking about how many women he dates, Evan. I've met a few of them, remember? I'm just saying that Sam always seemed distant or distracted even while out with some very beautiful women. Like there was a part of him that was unreachable.”

“I think you're reading too much into it, Nia. Sam's not exactly the life of the party. He's a sarcastic smart-ass on a good day.”

“Well, the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.”

“Nothing about this makes sense, Nia.”

There was silence, and Evan watched her full lips turn into a frown.

“Are you jealous? Is that what's going on?”

“Jesus, Nia. You know how I feel about Mikayla. And about you. I'm not jealous,” he said with frustration. “But I think I have a right to be pissed off.”

“Maybe, four years ago. Or if you were still in love with her and hadn't moved on with your life a long time ago,” Nia said with some reproach. “But you don't and you have, right? So what exactly is so upsetting about your ex-fiancée and one of your best friends being together?”

He sighed with frustration. “It's the fact that they both kept a pretty big secret from me.”

“Or is it some stupid guy thing that I don't understand? Like, any woman you've been with belongs to you even if you don't want her anymore?”

“Okay, now you're just being ridiculous,” he snapped.

“You're right. It is ridiculous.”

They were both silent and annoyed with each other.

“Did you tell Mikayla why you wanted to marry her?”

“Christ, woman, what are you going on about now?”

“Don't patronize me, Evan,” she scolded softly, and he knew he had crossed a line. “You've told me on more than one occasion that you were with Mikayla because the relationship didn't interrupt your work, that it would have been a comfortable marriage but without any passion.”

“Those weren't my exact words,” he mumbled, still embarrassed about his juvenile thinking not that long ago.

“Whatever. Did you tell her that?”

He was silent. Of course he hadn't. And he was starting to see Nia's point, unfortunately.

“No, of course you didn't. You let her and Sam admit their mistakes and regrets, and you stood there like a victim, inexcusably wronged by his close friends, and completely innocent of all wrongdoing,” she said with brutal honesty. “When, really, Mikayla just saw the truth before you did, and she had the balls to call you on it. You should be thanking her for it, not brooding about your bruised ego. So who's been keeping secrets?”

“Okay, I think you're being a little harsh.”

Nia rolled her eyes through the video app.

“Maybe, but you're really stubborn. And what is wrong with Sam and Mikayla finding happiness together?” she asked, in a softer tone. “Why shouldn't they have what we have?”

He looked away, easily remembering the many veiled and guarded looks Sam would give Mikayla when he thought no one would notice. And she wasn't much better.
Shit.
Evan hated it when Nia made perfect sense.

“I'll answer you after I get a peek of those pink panties,” he teased, feeling measurably better.

“Mmmm. You've changed the subject. Which means you know I'm right,” Nia noted with a cheeky grin. “I know how difficult that is for you, so maybe you've earned a reward.”

“How big is the reward?”

“How much time do you have?”

* * *

As Evan had told Nia, the leads that Fortis was pursuing for the New York mission had dried up pretty quickly. Raymond could not find any relevant information connecting George Clement and Jason Holt from four years ago. Renee was unable to identify the person, or persons, who had planted the explosive device and detonated it on Wednesday evening. Kaylee was still waiting for a reply from Mark McMann to set up a meeting. By Saturday morning, Sam determined that they should focus their effort on local surveillance of Ross operations, in hopes of identifying someone with information connecting Ross and Groveland.

Evan's plan had him, Sam, and Renee positioned at each of the three Ross construction sites from six o'clock in the morning until eleven o'clock at night. They rented three nondescript vehicles and loaded them up with digital cameras, binoculars, a small cache of concealable weapons, and enough water and quick meals to keep them fueled. For hours, they noted the operations and movement of people and equipment, and took digital pictures of anyone who looked to be in a leadership role. Raymond remained at the apartment with Kaylee, and provided central communication and support through connected earpieces. They also hired David Ferguson to stay with Kaylee as backup.

On Monday, they were on their third day of stakeouts.

“Boys, I think we have something,” Raymond announced.

“What is it?” Sam asked. He was in Clifton, about twenty miles to the northwest.

“I've been tracking Fleming, Battleford, and some of the other managers at Groveland, just in case one of them oversees the Ross projects,” Raymond explained with excitement. “According to credit card records, Nate Battleford has just bought water and mints at the Newark airport.”

“Shit,” Evan swore. “He's headed to one of the Ross build sites.”

“Yup, it would seem so,” Raymond confirmed. “I'm searching through the security footage to get eyes on him, maybe track wherever he's headed.”

“I think we have to assume it's either the Newark or Jersey City build,” Sam suggested as he put away his digital camera and started up the budget rental car. “They're both equally close to the airport. I'm going to head back south to be closer to either.”

“Okay, I got him,” Raymond announced about ten minutes later. “He's in a limousine. There are two men with him, and they look like professionals. I'm logged into a traffic camera and they're on Interstate ninety-five. They're headed into Jersey City.”

That was Renee's position.

“Evan, how long will it take to get there?” asked Sam, who was now on the highway, driving toward the target site at a high rate of speed.

“Twenty minutes, tops.”

“Renee, maintain your position until Evan and I get there,” Sam instructed firmly. “Raymond, once Battleford is at the build site, find us positions that will give us access to him with little resistance.”

“You got it,” Raymond acknowledged.

“What's the play here, Sam?” Evan asked.

“I'm hoping to find a private spot to have an intimate conversation with him, see what he can tell us about Groveland and bribes to city officials, with a little persuasion. You and Renee will offer cover in case the two bodyguards he's with have skills.”

The building site in Jersey City was the renovation of a public school located near the suburbs. Renee's rental car was parked on the street across from the school, in front of an auto body shop. For the next fifteen minutes, Raymond provided updates on Battleford's approach, and outlined several options for the team to converge on the target. When the limo finally arrived and drove into the construction zone, Renee casually got out of the car and walked around the block to a secluded spot at the corner of the unfinished building. She had a clear line of sight to the trailer near the entrance of the closed-off area, which was being used as a makeshift construction office.

Evan arrived first, and Raymond directed him to another location, where he could creep onto the building site undetected, and with an open view of the office. They both watched with weapons drawn as Battleford exited the limo with his two bodyguards and talked to several men who approached.

“I'm parked at the far side, near the park,” Sam announced a few minutes later. “How are we doing?”

“I have eyes on the target,” Renee confirmed.

“Ditto,” added Evan.

“How many men are with him?” Sam asked as he ran casually toward the action.

“I see six including the two bodyguards,” said Renee. “There should be one woman inside the construction office, doing administrative stuff.”

“Okay, let's see if he goes inside—then I'll join him for our chat. If not, we move to plan B.”

“And plan B is . . . ?” Raymond asked.

“I'll grab him before he gets back in the car,” Sam replied as he found a secure position from which to watch the target. “It's a little messier.”

The team held their breath as Battleford slowly made his way around to the side door of the trailer, opened it, and stepped inside. The two bodyguards and other workers remained out front, casually talking. Sam quickly ran from his position to the back of the trailer; then he crept along until he could look around the corner and scope out the access entrance.

“You have company, Sam,” Renee whispered into the earpiece. “One of the supervisors is entering the office.”

“What about the others?” he asked, completely relying on his colleagues to provide accurate visual intelligence.

“The bodyguards and other guys are out of visual range. You're clear,” Evan confirmed.

Sam withdrew his Beretta, released the safety, and made his move. With a quick run, he reached the doors of the trailer and swung them open. The woman was the first to notice him. She was at the very back of the large space, standing beside a desk with a thick folder in her hands. It took her a second to realize he was a stranger with a gun. Battleford was in the middle of the floor with his back to the door, and the second man was just inside. She let out a strangled scream, just as Battleford turned around to find Sam's gun pointed directly at him. The other man immediately stepped back and raised his hands in the air.

“Nate Battleford, you and I need to have a chat,” Sam said calmly.

Battleford spread his hands wide by his side, suggesting he was unarmed. “You could have made an appointment.”

“Perhaps, but I'm not known for my politeness,” replied Sam. “You are?” The question was directed to the man standing just a couple of feet away.

“Nigel,” he replied briefly, swallowing loudly.

“Okay, Nigel. I'm only here to talk to your boss. So why don't you go stand beside that lovely lass in the back?”