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Under Fire

Page 61

by Brenda Jackson

“That the person deliberately had the serial number wiped off, possibly knowing there were ways it could be restored. Then, pretending to be an FBI agent, deliberately gives it to Karl. If law enforcement could have recovered the serial number and linked it to Nyla, she could have been charged in Barcos’ death as an accessory or an accomplice. I don’t like it, Nate. Especially when the people who have the resources to recover the serial number are those two FBI agents, Wells and Harris.”

“Do you honestly think they’re corrupt?” Nate asked.

“At this point, I’m not sure of anything, which means that I’m suspecting just about everybody. Any word from Cranston on that burner phone?”

“No, but just like finding out about the serial number, it all takes time. But we’re on it.”

“And I appreciate you guys.”

“Hey, we’re having fun. Just like the old days.”

She smiled. “Yes, just like the old days.”

“Oh, yeah, by the way, Cranston might have a lead on that hidden video camera you discovered in the warehouse. From your photos, he recognized the brand and might be able to trace it not only to the manufacturer but also to who might have purchased one in your area.”

“That would be awesome,” she said. “Even better would be if we could find a copy of the recording to see what someone else might have watched that night.”

“I’ll keep in touch.”

“Thanks, and again, I appreciate you and Cranston.”

“Don’t you think we know that? Just take care of yourself. You aren’t invincible, you know.”

Nate and Cranston would tell her that all the time. She often heard it from Malik, as well. “I know, and I promise to take care of myself. Goodbye, Nate.”

After ending the call, she leaned back in her chair, thinking about everything Nate had shared with her. Every time she thought she had figured out one lead, another one would get dropped on her. Working for the defense wasn’t easy for an ex-FBI agent who was used to going after criminals. She admitted she’d learned a lot from Locke over the past weeks.

Both in and out of bed…

She shook her head, knowing she needed to stay focused and not think about the in-the-bed part. That was too mind-blowing to dwell on right now. Maybe that was why she looked forward to the end of their workday and the start of the fun-day. She enjoyed her time with Locke, and it was the relief she needed from what could have been a stressful day. He refused to let it. She enjoyed it whenever they went out to dinner or when they shared space in the kitchen. She’d always enjoyed cooking and discovered he did, too.

Forcing her mind back to the Halifax case, she stood, needing to share this latest development with Locke.

***

“Locke? Are you busy?”

Locke glanced up from his laptop and smiled. “I’m never too busy for you, Hollis.”

If only she knew just how much he meant that. Over the past weeks, she had become a fixture he liked having around. He recalled that while at Orin’s party, as they’d been dancing, she mentioned his mother’s prediction that they would one day marry. Hollis said she could see a wife and kids in his future. Little did she know that he could see a little further into the future than she obviously could. She would be his wife, and the kids would be theirs.

He hoped she wouldn’t mind moving to Oregon. For years he had hated the South, especially after what happened to him as a teen in Georgia. Sheppard knew how he felt and suggested that, instead of returning to Atlanta, he and Shogun join Macayle when he returned to his home state of Oregon. Shogun, who hadn’t wanted to move back to Illinois any more than Locke had Georgia, thought it was a swell idea. To this day, neither had regretted their decision.

The more he was around Hollis, the more he was able to read her, and he knew that for her to interrupt what he was doing was serious. “So what’s going on with you?”

She came into his office and took the chair across from his desk. He smiled at the thought that, although she worked here, she still dressed professionally every day in her pencil skirts and jacket. Once in a while, she wore a pantsuit. He liked watching her get dressed in the morning, knowing that at the end of the day, he would be the one undressing her. He enjoyed every moment of it.

“I just finished talking to Nate.”

He knew of her ex-colleagues, Nate Adderley and Cranston Riley. Because of their expertise, she considered them vital to her investigative team. “And?”

She then told him everything Nate had shared with her.

Damn! That was the last thing he needed to hear, he thought. “You’re right, FBI agents have the resources to do what Nate did, and when they do, they could easily say Nyla was a party to what went down in that warehouse, and was Karl’s accomplice,” Locke said, rubbing his chin and not liking the thought of that. “I’m wondering how that gun, which was part of a theft eight years ago, could wind up in the hands of the person framing Karl for murder.”

He paused and then asked, “Have you read the police report of Nyla’s robbery?”

“Not yet.”