Focusing on Hadley helped him get a lock on it.
Damn, the distraction of slim curves clad in a fitted, dark-gray skirt, and a formfitting, pale-gray top helped a lot. Her hair was loose, and diamonds winked in her ears. He noted that her hair was damp from the rain. She needed an umbrella.
The sexy executive look gave him plenty of X-rated ideas.
If she knew what he was thinking, she’d do him bodily harm.
He studied her profile—slim nose, delicate jaw line, perfectly shaped ears. The beautiful features hid a will of pure steel.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Killian suggested.
“Secura had a shipment of bulletproof vests go missing six months ago,” Bennett said. “It’s not uncommon. Logistics get screwed up sometimes. We couldn’t find it. Then, soon after, a shipment of high-tech fabric uniforms was stolen from a warehouse, en route to a customer.”
“We got wind that the gear was spotted in the hands of terrorists and rebel groups in Africa,” David said.
“It’s not weapons, but my company spends a lot of time and money on R&D,” Bennett said. “Our gear is the best there is, and it helps save lives.”
“And this gear will make it that much harder to stop the terrorists and rebels,” Hadley said. “L’Orage has a history of stealing weapons from military or police locations, and selling them for a tidy profit.”
“And now it seems he’s branched out into body armor and other supplies,” Bennett said, flexing his hand.
“He’s well-connected,” she said. “He has a long list of clients. He has contacts in the right places to get shipping schedules and security details, and more. He’s bribed people on the inside when he can.”
Bennett kept his face impassive. The bastard sure had info on Secura that he shouldn’t have.
“And the would-be bomber at last night’s party?” Killian asked. “He was one of yours?”
Bennett felt a muscle tick in his jaw. “Yes, Archie Martin. He’s an employee at Secura. He was carrying a note. It was the usual rhetoric about stopping sending our soldiers to die on foreign soil. Stop interfering with other countries.”
“Had Martin shown support for this sort of thing before?” Killian asked.
“No. He’s former military himself, worked as a communications and information systems specialist in the British Navy. He’s a good employee.” Bennett scraped a hand through his hair. He’d seen Archie breakdown last night. Something had happened to him. Something had forced him into this.
“Was he your leak?” Hadley asked. “Could he be involved with L’Orage?”
“Possibly,” Bennett replied.
“We’re holding Mr. Martin for questioning,” David said. “But he’s had an episode and is under medical supervision. We can’t get any useful information out of him.”
Bennett’s gut tightened. Whatever had happened, Archie was still one of his. He’d ensure the young man got the help—medical and legal—that he needed. “As far as I can tell, I don’t believe Archie had access to all our shipment details.”
Hadley’s mouth tightened. “So you might have more than one leak at Secura?”
Now his hand balled into a fist. “I plan to find out.” He already had his security team scouring Archie’s computer and company phone.
“This has L’Orage stamped all over it.” She crossed her legs to the other side. “He has tentacles everywhere. I’d hoped he was gone.”
“I suspect you were getting too close,” David said.
Killian nodded. “He was feeling the heat, and went underground for a bit.”
“Well, he’s back now, and I want him stopped.” Bennett would do whatever he had to in order to achieve that. Secura and the work they did was too important to him.
He saw Hadley eyeing him with a narrowed gaze.
“So, you need to find your mole,” Hadley said. “Or moles.”
“I’ll find them.”