Colby Velocity (5 page)

Sayar must have had one hell of a good hiding place. “What's your take on the robbery scenario?”

“No way,” Kendra said with absolute certainty. “Someone wanted it to look that way.”

“I don't think the cops are buying it, either.” He slowed for another turn, this one right. “Not for real. If they are, then they're not too bright.”

Kendra turned in her seat to study him. “What did you see in the other rooms besides Yoni's lack of decorating skills?”

She had that part right. “I'm guessing he ate out a lot.”

She smiled, her expression—her eyes—distant. Rocky's throat tightened. The smile hadn't been for him but he'd liked it a lot all the same. “He ate out and with his parents. Cooking was not one of his fortes.”

“No beer or hard stuff, either.”

“Focused and unusually straitlaced.”

Rocky felt a twinge of sympathy for the parents. They had raised a good, hardworking son it seemed and this happened to him. Not fair. Not fair at all.

“What about his bedroom?”

“Now there,” Rocky made another slow turn, “is where things got interesting.” He rolled carefully past a house where children played kick ball in the yard. “Sayar's wallet and computer were missing. But not the thirty-two-inch flat-panel television in his bedroom. An MP3 player lay right on the bed side table in plain sight. No cheapo, either. This was one of the high-dollar jobs. And if that isn't enough to convince you this was no robbery, forty bucks was next to the MP3 player.”

“I knew Wayne was holding out on me.” Kendra shook her head, her lips compressed in a firm line.

“That's his job,” Rocky offered. He had no idea
why he felt compelled to defend the guy, but it was a reasonable explanation.

Kendra opened her mouth to argue, but then snapped it shut.

Didn't take a mind reader to know what she'd started to say. She had expected more from her former lover. Maybe the two had been a lot closer than Rocky had suspected.

“I suppose the burglar could have been interrupted by Yoni's return before he made it to the second floor,” Kendra suggested, playing devil's advocate.

“Possibly,” Rocky agreed. “But if he had that much notice that Sayar was coming, why not run out the back door and avoid the whole confrontation?”

“Exactly,” Kendra agreed.

No way it was a robbery.

“There's an alley between the rows of town houses,” Kendra said, “take the one directly behind Yoni's side of the street.”

Rocky doubled back, then maneuvered down the narrow alley, careful of the garbage cans and bicycles. Each town house had a privacy fenced patio area and a parking pad designed for two vehicles.

“That's Yoni's car.” Kendra pointed to the next parking pad on the left.

Rocky pulled in beside the small green hybrid. “He must have taken a taxi to the airport and then
back.” Otherwise he would have entered his home from the back door.”

“Makes sense.”

Kendra was out of the car as soon as Rocky had shifted into Park. As he emerged from the vehicle she lifted the latch on the gate and disappeared behind the eight-foot dog-eared fence.

Rocky scanned the alley. A cat pilfered through an open garbage can a few houses down. Otherwise the alley was quiet and vacant.

Satisfied that Burton or one of his buddies wasn't going to show up and arrest them for breaking and entering, Rocky stepped through the gate she'd left standing open. He'd expected to find her moving patio chairs or prowling through the two shrubs flanking either side of the steps leading to the back door.

He hadn't anticipated finding her dismantling the barbecue grill. She'd opened the lid, removed the rack and was digging through the mound of unused charcoal.

Rocky was just about to ask her what she hoped to find when she produced a large zip plastic bag. Inside was a square boxlike device.

Kendra turned to him with victory on her lips. “Yoni's external hard drive.”

Like he realized earlier, the lady had moxie.

Rocky re-mounded the charcoal, replaced the
rack and closed the lid. He couldn't help eyeing the windows of the town house as he dusted his palms together. “We should get moving.”

“I'll hook this up to my laptop when we get back to the hotel.” Dirty bag or not, Kendra stashed her find beneath her cream-colored jacket.

“We don't need back inside for anything, right?”

She shook her head.

Being a good citizen and because Burton would know who'd unlocked the back door, Rocky locked it, then checked to ensure it was secure. No need to tick off Kendra's one official
contact.

The alley was still deserted except for that determined cat who'd found himself an edible treasure. Once in the rental car, Rocky resisted the impulse to zoom away from the scene of their crime. Drawing unnecessary attention wouldn't be smart.

Kendra tucked the bag with its contents beneath her seat and reached for her seat belt. She hesitated, then reached for her cell phone.

“Kendra Todd.”

The sound of her name made him smile. When he'd first learned that the Equalizers would be joining the Colby Agency he'd had some reservations. But now, after getting to know the staff—Kendra in particular—Rocky felt pretty much at home.

“Who is this?”

Rocky shifted his attention to her as he braked for the first intersection.

Kendra drew the phone from her ear and stared at the screen.

“What's up?” Tension rifled through Rocky.

Her gaze connected with his. “We have a rendezvous where we'll supposedly receive evidence about Yoni's murder and the identity of the killer.”

Rocky checked the cross street then pulled away from the intersection. “Your caller didn't ID himself?”

“No.”

The single syllable carried a truckload of confusion and disbelief.

“Did he name Sayar's killer just now?”

“Yes.”

Their gazes intersected once more.

“Senator Castille.”

Lincoln Memorial, 9:00 p.m.

Kendra waited in the shadows of the Lincoln Memorial. Yoni Sayar deserved justice. Having his death swept under the rug as a random act of violence was wrong. Kendra intended to right that wrong.

“We've got company,” Rocky whispered in her ear via the communications link.

“Black sedan,” she confirmed.

Room service at the hotel had provided the fuel she'd been lacking. With no sleep, she'd been on the verge of total exhaustion. But the anonymous call along with a ham and cheese on rye back at the room had energized her. With Rocky's help she'd spent two hours attempting to make some sense of Yoni's electronic files. Her friend hadn't warned her that the files would be encrypted.

Why would he ensure she knew where his external hard drive was hidden if she couldn't make
sense of the information stored there? Rocky had downloaded the files and sent them to the Colby Agency for further attempts at decoding. Two staff members from research were pulling an all-nighter toward that end.

She and Rocky had assessed their needs and selected the essential equipment, including their weapons, for this covert rendezvous. Arriving an hour early had provided the opportunity to survey the area and get into place. The minutes had dragged by like hours. Exhaustion had crept back into Kendra's bones.

A man emerged from the sedan she'd spotted and headed for the steps leading to the monument. He carried a slim briefcase or portfolio. Kendra checked the weapon at the small of her back beneath her jacket. Whatever this guy's game, she was prepared. Rocky was less than ten feet away, lost in the shadows, as well.

Before the man reached the top of the steps he reached up and ran a hand—his left hand—through his hair. Irritation burned through Kendra. She stepped forward, allowing her anonymous caller to see her.

Grant Roper.

Castille's aide. Kendra's replacement. Left-handed, arrogant, conniving jerk.

The surprise she'd felt at having the anonymous
caller name Castille as Yoni's killer evolved into equal measures of astonishment and outrage. Roper had been bucking for her position for months before she'd walked away. What the hell was he doing turning on the man he idolized now? This did not feel right.

The distinct hum of a setup vibrated the night air.

“Kendra,” Grant acknowledged as he stepped closer.

“I don't know why you called and asked for this meeting.” Kendra took another step in his direction, giving him her most intimidating glower. “But I don't appreciate your games, Grant. Good night.”

She stared past him.

“I told you I have evidence. Do you want to see it or not?”

The question stopped Kendra's determined departure. She turned her head to stare at him over her shoulder. “Did Castille send you?” That would be just like the old buzzard to send his minion to try and spy on Kendra's investigation. He would know all the right buzz words that would get her attention.

Grant's face furrowed into an incredulous mix of shock and desperation. “Are you joking? He'd have the same thing done to me that he did to Sayar if he even suspected I was talking to you.”

“Why should I believe anything you say?”
Kendra contested. He'd have to do more than talk if he wanted her to be swayed. She didn't trust him one iota. “Where's the evidence you claim to have?”

He jerked his head to the left. “Let's move away from these spotlights.”

Kendra gestured for him to go first. He'd barely taken two steps before Rocky moved out of the shadows. Grant balked.

“Who's he?”

“My partner.” Kendra moved in closer. “That's all you need to know. Now, let's see that evidence or I am out of here.”

Grant was visibly displeased with Rocky's presence but that was too bad. Kendra had absolutely no sympathy for the slimy little snake.

He pulled a manila folder from his leather case. “I can show you what I have, but I can't let these originals out of my possession. Castille thinks I destroyed them. If he finds out…”

Yeah, Kendra got the idea but that didn't mean she believed a word of what Grant had to say. She accepted the folder. It felt heavier than it looked. She opened it, stared at the first of what turned out to be a stack of eight-by-ten photos. There were six in all. Each one showed Senator Castille in intimate conversation if not compromising positions with a young woman. Judging by the way she was dressed, a prostitute.

“Who's the woman?” Kendra banished her own conclusion and focused on Grant's face, looking for the signs of deception she fully expected.

“She
was
Aleesha Ferguson. Spent most of her time working K and L Streets. When she wasn't serving the senator's needs—if you know what I mean.”

Kendra shook her head. “I find this difficult to believe.” Had to be a hoax. She thrust the folder back at the man she knew from experience would beg, borrow or steal to get what he wanted. “Castille is a lot of things but not this.”

“I've been keeping tabs on his extracurricular activity for months,” Grant argued. “This is no onetime occurrence. The pictures are real.”

“You said
was.
” Kendra waited while Grant put the folder away then met her gaze. “What happened to this Aleesha Ferguson?”

“Hit-and-run.” Grant lifted his chin and stared knowingly at Kendra. “Your friend Sayar helped cover up the whole thing.”

The little weasel had crossed the line with that statement. “Yoni would never have knowingly participated in a criminal act of any sort.” Kendra made up her mind. “We're done.”

She turned her back on the wannabe player and headed for the steps. Rocky moved up beside her, adjusting his stride to hers.

“Check it out,” Grant called out to her. “Aleesha Ferguson was killed by a hit-and-run driver. The case was never solved. Mrs. Castille was the driver. She called Sayar that night. Check his cell phone records. You'll see!”

“I'm telling you the truth!”
floated across the summer air as Kendra reached the car.

Rocky started the engine and roared away from the curb. Kendra steamed, so angry she barely remembered to fasten her seat belt.

“Any possibility that twerp is telling some fragment of truth?”

Kendra wanted to say unequivocally hell no. No way would Castille stoop to such immoral behavior. Absolutely no way would Yoni help anyone—not even Mrs. Castille, who, he undeniably admired and adored—cover up a murder. No. No. No.

“The pictures were real,” Kendra confessed. Whatever else she didn't understand or want to believe, that much was jarringly bona fide. “But there may be a perfectly logical explanation we're not aware of.” There had to be one. She couldn't wrap her head around the outrageous concept otherwise.

“Then we have to make ourselves aware.”

Kendra met Rocky's unrelenting gaze. Her partner was right. No one was going to willingly give them any facsimile of the truth about Yoni's murder or anything else, for that matter, he may
or may not have been involved in personally or professionally.

Not here…where secrecy and diversion were ways of life.

10:31 p.m.

K
ENDRA INSERTED THE KEYCARD
into the door of her hotel room. She would definitely need coffee to stay focused while they hashed through the pathetic clues and leads they had at this point.

“I'll grab my laptop,” Rocky said as he unlocked the door directly across the hall.

“I'll put on a pot of coffee.” Kendra pushed through the door, flipped the light switch and tossed her purse onto the luggage rack.

Instinct nudged her, sending her gaze sweeping across the room. Her breath stalled in her chest.

“What the…?”

Her room had been ransacked.

The side chair's upholstery was shredded. The mattress tossed off the bed…linens strewn across the carpet. Drawers had been removed from the chest and scattered haphazardly on the floor.

Her attention settled next on the travel bag she'd abandoned when they first arrived, its contents seemingly vomited from the zippered opening.

The external hard drive.

She stumbled across the room in her haste.
Dropping to her knees at the desk, she crawled beneath it and peered up at the under side of the desk top.

The compact piece of hardware was gone.

Kendra eased back from under the desk and plopped down cross-legged on the carpet. Something else she should have anticipated. Castille knew she was here. Wayne. She couldn't see what Wayne had to gain by taking the drive. Castille…the jury was still out on him.

Okay, it wasn't a total disaster, she reminded herself. Rocky had downloaded the files and forwarded all to the Colby Agency. So nothing was actually lost in that sense.

The problem was that now someone had their hands on Yoni's files. The ones he'd wanted to ensure she alone found if anything happened to him.

The most she could hope for at this point was that the agency could break the encryption before whoever had taken the external drive did so.

A long, low whistle reverberated from the door.

She looked up as her partner entered the criminal disarray. “I think it's safe to say someone suspected Yoni had discussed more with you than the idea of hiring the Colby Agency.”

“Only two people were aware of my meeting with Yoni,” she voiced the theories she had already considered.

“Castille could have sent his underling to distract you while another of his loyal followers did this,” Rocky theorized.

“But,” Kendra argued, “I'm one hundred percent certain he wouldn't have sent those pictures as a prop.”

“That leaves Burton.”

“Yeah,” she granted.

Would Wayne have given her and Rocky access to Yoni's home if he was building a cover-up? Rocky had ensured they hadn't been tailed after they'd left Yoni's town house.

On the other hand, would her old friend have permitted their entrance into the crime scene—which was unquestionably outside regulations—for this very purpose? To determine if she knew something he didn't…like where the external hard drive was?

Kendra didn't want to believe the worst about him. Like Yoni, she'd always considered Wayne one of the good guys. Even a good man had his price. Castille was immensely powerful. Not that he'd proven a particularly bad guy, but power often brought out the worst in a person. The senator was no exception.

She rubbed her eyes, pushed her hair back. This was exactly why she'd left this world behind.

No one could be trusted when professional gain was at stake.

“Damn it.” Kendra braced to get up when a hand reached down to her. She looked from the strong, wide hand to the man standing over her.

“Come on.” He wiggled his fingers. “We'll move across the hall and use my laptop. See what we can find out about this Aleesha Ferguson. We'll figure this out,” he hitched his head toward the mess, “later.”

Kendra placed her hand in his, watched as his long fingers curled around hers. Warmth whispered through her, bringing with it a sense of relief and safety she needed more than she would dare say out loud.

Rocky pulled her to her feet in one smooth motion. “Housekeeping will take care of the mess.” He gestured to the room at large and shrugged. “It's not so bad.”

Another reality settled in as Kendra took a closer inventory of the room. No, it wasn't bad, the place was a disaster. Curtains, linens, furnishings had been damaged or destroyed. Hotel management was not going to be happy when they saw this.

“Okay,” she relented. He was thinking a lot more clearly than she was. Kendra felt so damned tired. So frustrated. Her soul ached with regret for Yoni…for his family.

And her heart twisted with the need to find the truth…and justice.

Rocky kept her hand in his, leading the way to the door. As she stepped over her scattered clothing she hesitated, frowned. Pulling free of Rocky's gentle hold, she crouched down to inspect her favorite teal blouse. Shredded…like the chair. One piece at a time she picked up each item she'd hastily packed. Every single one was damaged beyond repair. Except the pair of jeans and the T-shirt she'd thrown in for no real reason. Maybe to blend better with her partner.

Didn't matter. Just clothes. She could buy more.

Why would whoever had come here looking for the hard drive have done this?

This part was a personal attack against her.

Rocky ushered her to her feet once more. “Don't let this scare tactic get to you. The person or persons responsible want you to be afraid.”

He was right. She nodded, then followed him out the door, grabbing her purse as she went. Her attempts at slowing the whirlwind of confusion building to a hurricane in her brain proved impotent.

Searching for the external drive, then taking it, she could see. Someone had something to hide and didn't want her to find it.

But why the personal attack?

Maybe just the fear factor, like Rocky had said. Probably not personal at all. Well, whoever had damaged her things could get over it. She wasn't going anywhere. Not even across the street to another hotel. She and Rocky were showing no fear. This reaction from the enemy proved one thing for certain: someone was getting nervous.

When they were in Rocky's room, door closed and locked, he pointed to the chair, a duplicate of the damaged one in hers, and ordered: “Sit. I'll make coffee.”

Kendra couldn't say how many minutes passed with her brain meandering in a shocked daze, but the smell of freshly brewed coffee drew her mind back to the here and now. “Smells good,” she had the presence of mind to say.

“I don't know about good,” Rocky said as he handed her a cup, “but definitely strong.”

She cradled the cup in both hands, letting the heat permeate her palms. Felt comforting.