Gage shrugged. “Good. Normal.” He didn’t want to talk about Anna. The time he’d spent with her had felt special, precious. Definitely not something he was interested in discussing. But he knew what Scotty was really asking: Had he been able to learn anything from her? Did she know about Natalie—or was she maybe connected to the attack at the office earlier that day?
He thought back to Spencer’s comment earlier, at the bar. He’d said the Navy brass thought their team had been dirty and that they’d killed Nick when he’d wanted out. But what ifNataliewas the one mixed up in something shady, something attached to her publishing house, and Nick had been killed because his wife had told him too much? It just seemed like too much of a coincidence that while he and his teammates were investigating a suspicious death, they happened to walk into a situation involving another violent attack.
So, who’d set that explosion—and why? What was their connection to the sniper who had taken Nick out? And why trash Williams’s office? There was something rotten about that company—and Gage needed to find out what it was.
Scotty sipped his beer and asked, “What? You cranky from not getting any?”
“She’s not like that.”
Scotty shrugged. “She’s female—meaning trouble on two legs. You ought to know that, my man. Did you happen to bring up the fact that we’re looking for Nick’s widow, who we suspect is an author at her publishing house?”
“I asked. The name didn’t ring any bells.”
Scotty frowned. “Spencer and I didn’t find anything either. It’s like Natalie never existed, which is damn suspicious. Either she’s a pro at covering her tracks, or…”
“Or she was using a false identity.” Gage leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Has Spencer had any luck getting his ex to see if there’s a file on her with NSA?”
Scotty gave a laugh. “I doubt she’s interested in being particularly cooperative. Evidently, Spence and his wife didn’t part on the best of terms. So what’s next? Kyle’s still MIA. We’re going to be officially listed as AWOL soon. And we’ve got zip to show for our troubles.” He sank back in his chair. “This is not going well.”
Gage dropped his empty beer bottle into the carton. “It seems pretty clear that something bad is going down at that publishing company—the place wouldn’t have been set on fire and trashed otherwise.”
Scotty glanced at him. “You sure that whole thing was staged?”
Gage nodded. “Not only staged, but whoever pulled it off was a pro. That helo was right on time—the whole thing had the feel of a first-class op on an exact timetable.”
Frowning, Scotty asked, “You hear anything on what caused the explosion?”
“No—and I’m not likely to, unless we can work some connections with local PD. Since we’re not supposed to be reachable, that’s going to be hard.”
Looking out over the railing, Scotty said, “The damn thing sounds like a military op. But what does a book publisher have that’s so important that someone would be willing to kill for it?” He glanced at Gage. “You going to use your new girl to get us more intel?”
Gage pressed his lips tight. He wanted to say no, wanted to keep all this messiness away from Anna. But that wasn’t an option. So he nodded. “I’m going to use whoever I need to. We’re going to find out who killed Nick and why, if I have to rip that publishing company apart myself.”
7
“In other news, there is still no word on the whereabouts of billionaire Coran Williams. An early adopter of new technology, Williams made his money in the defense industry before retiring to found a successful publishing house.
Williams has always seemed to lead a charmed life—until yesterday, when a fire broke out in his DC-based publishing company.
Five people were hospitalized with injuries, and officials have not yet determined the cause of the blaze. No one has been able to reach Mr. Williams for comment.”
Anna sipped a glass of Chardonnay and stared at the television screen. She couldn’t believe that there was still no news on Coran. How could he have disappeared? He was supposed to have gone golfing—how did anyone vanish from a golf course?
The police had been reluctant to allow her back into the offices this morning, but they had needed an accounting of what might be missing, so one person from each department had been allowed back in. For the art department, that probably should have been Marcella—but she was still in the hospital. As far as Anna could tell, nothing had been taken, but the place was a mess from smoke damage, water damage, and human damage. Plenty of stuff had gotten knocked over when people had fled the building, and everything had been thrown into further disarray when the emergency workers had come through to rescue trapped employees and put down flare-ups. Cleaning it all up was going to be a massive pain in the neck—but, to her surprise, it was an ordeal that would be starting soon. Anna had wondered if the building would be closed for several days or even weeks while the investigation was ongoing, but the police officer who let her in told her they’d only be taking the rest of the day to gather evidence. The next day, the office would be open for business again, though the investigation would continue behind the scenes.
So much for any hopes of a few days off to process what had happened. They’d all be back at the grindstone—and with a host of new challenges to deal with. Several key employees were in the hospital, and the damage the building had taken meant that some areas weren’t cleared to be used. It looked like they’d be rearranging the workspaces to squeeze everyone into the safe areas. Thankfully, Anna’s studio was intact, but she would be sharing it with people from other departments for the time being. She wasn’t looking forward to the chaos, but there was no other option, so they’d just have to deal. The book projects were all safe, waiting in the offsite servers. With the exception of some of Coran’s notes, which he still insisted on writing out longhand in notebooks, the company could keep doing business.
Anna had always wondered why Coran was so resistant to using technology when he’d made his money on innovation.
The news was still showing footage of yesterday’s explosion and fire. Anna rubbed absently at her cheek. It could have been her in the hospital—she’d heard from Linda, and she was due for release in a day or two, but everyone in the basement had had more than a close brush with death. The smoke in the lower parts of the building had been worse, and there’d been chemicals in the air. Even the ones who hadn’t been seriously injured would need to be monitored to see if what they’d inhaled resulted in any long-term consequences.
She startled when her cat jumped up onto the kitchen counter. “Oh no you don’t, Romeo!” She grabbed the fluffy gray cat and put him back down on the floor. After feeding him, she flicked off the news and curled up on the couch. She was looking forward to a quiet evening—and she had books to read, ones she’d downloaded earlier from the company’s servers. She liked to read the early drafts to get cover ideas for the shoots, and two new manuscripts had come in yesterday morning.
Oddly, there were three new files on her tablet—she could have sworn she’d only downloaded two , but maybe someone had sent her an extra file yesterday. Coran often sent her files to get her assessment if he had a book he wasn’t sure about buying. She was happy to be an early reader, and she liked it that he respected her judgment.
A couple of times, Linda had even sent her submissions that the editorial department had decided to pass on. How Linda got the files, Anna wasn’t asking. But Linda knew Anna’s tastes and grabbed her the files for odd books she thought Anna might like.
Anna opened the first file—Lavender Lilleby N.T. Smalls. She didn’t recognize the author’s name, and a half a page later, she knew why. She went back over the text again to see if maybe she was missing something.