Come Gentle the Dawn (20 page)

And what was he bringing her from himself? Lies, deceit and distrust. His heart felt as if it was ripping in two. How could he tell her? When? What would happen to this fragile joy they now shared? Linc didn’t want it destroyed. But how could he make Brie believe him? That his feelings for her were genuine? That he never meant to hurt her? Oh, God, he was going to, and he’d never felt as miserable.

S
o what now?” Brie asked quietly over breakfast with Linc.

“I called the FM when I was at the police department, and McPeak and Laughlin will fill in for our quadrant while we push this investigation on who’s after you.”

“Linc, if they want to kill me, why haven’t they done it yet?”

“They may have tried with that second explosive device up in Cleveland we answered.”

Brie nodded. “It might have been. But they’re tearing up our homes, not firing shots at us. Or me.”

Linc agreed with her. “Whoever it is is looking for something, Brie. Some tangible piece of evidence that was either in your possession or John’s.” He shook his head and scowled. “Believe me, I’ve been through all your paperwork and John’s, and I can’t find anything
that would incriminate any company except for Bach. I just can’t figure it out. When John died, did Carol give you anything of his?”

Brie thought for a moment. “I was in the hospital when she called up one day. Carol was in tears, I remember that much.”

“What else?” Linc asked, hoping against hope that she could provide a clue or lead.

“I was on painkillers at the time, Linc. I think…I think she was going to throw out all his haz-mat books and manuals. I told her I’d take them, because John had some old ones that were out of print that had valuable information in them.”

“Did you pick them up when you got out of the hospital?”

She shook her head. “Carol had a key to my house, and she said she’d take the boxes over there. When I got home, there were three boxes in the living room near my bookcase.”

“What were in those boxes?”

“Books and manuals.” Brie looked at him. “I can show them to you if the person who broke into the house didn’t take them. What will you do with them?”

“Well, whatever they’re looking for is probably small and could be tucked away. It means sifting page by page through all of John’s books.”

Sudden excitement coursed through Brie, and she sat up. “Linc, I’ll know if any of his books are missing!”

“How?”

She clapped her hands. “I have a Rolodex that has every title and author of the books I own. That was one of the things I did right after I got out of the hospital.
The books that belonged to John, I made a notation on each card. We can find out right away if all his books are there. And if they aren’t, we’ll know within a couple of hours, and that would give us a lead!”

Linc resisted her enthusiasm. “It’s a lead,” he admitted gravely. He reached out, caressing her hair. “The house is a mess, Brie. Are you up to going over there?”

She gave him a tender smile, sliding her arms around his shoulders. “I’m ready to tackle it.”

He ran his thumb across her flushed cheek. “From now on, I want you to be extra careful. Just stick close to me. If I tell you to hit the deck, do it without question. Okay?”

Brie swallowed hard, seeing the military part of Linc surfacing. “Yes, I’ll always listen to you.”

He grinned, trying to relieve some of the strain he saw appearing at the corners of her mouth. “You mean you’ll stop being bossy at haz-mat spills?” he taunted.

Brie managed a smile, loving him for his ability to ease the pressure from her. “That will never happen, Tanner.”

With a groan, Linc got to his feet, pulling her along with him. “I was afraid of that.”

*

As Brie walked through her home, she felt the strong urge to start cleaning immediately, but she knew how important it was to find the Rolodex. So instead she merely waded through the overturned furniture in the living room.

Linc spotted the Rolodex on the carpet next to the cherrywood desk. He gestured for her to come and sit next to him. “Take a look at this and give me the titles of John’s books and I’ll make a list of them.” Everywhere Linc looked, books were scattered like leaves off
an autumn tree. There were hundreds of books to search through. It was going to take a long time to find them all—if they were still in the house.

Several minutes later, with thirty-five books stacked in piles, Brie called off the last title. She looked at the miniature towers that surrounded them.

“They’re all here, Linc.” Triumph was in her voice.

He took five books from the first stack. “That’s a good sign, little cat. Now comes the hard part—going through them page by page, looking for a clue.”

She joined him on the couch they had righted. “If there is one,” she groused.

Linc nodded, opening the first book. “Right. But judging from the break-ins, there’s probably something in one of these books that might point a finger. It’s the only link I can think of between you and Carol and John.”

Almost three hours later, Brie got up. “Nothing,” she groaned, rubbing her neck, which she had held in the same angle for so long. The sun had changed position, leaving a muted light in the living room that she loved so much. “Come on, let’s take a break and I’ll pour us some coffee.” At his apartment, she had wisely filled both their thermoses with coffee and brought them along with some cups.

Reluctantly, Linc followed her into the kitchen, taking the book he was thumbing through with him.

“John was one for highlighting things in yellow and making notes in the margins, wasn’t he?” Linc made himself comfortable at the table.

“Yes, he was very thorough,” she answered, filling the cups and sitting down opposite him.

Linc thanked her for the coffee and settled back with
the book, slowly turning page after page. John’s handwriting was clear and precise compared to his own hen scratchings. He read every margin note and highlighted sentence trying to figure out if they had any significance to the case.

He sat up, frowning. “Come here, look at this,” Linc said, placing the book on the table.

Brie stood and leaned over Linc’s shoulder, looking at where he held his finger. In the margin John had written, “PCB in #2. See Earl.”

“What do you make of it?” Linc asked. “This is a chapter on polychlorinated biphenyl—PCB.”

She rested one hand on Linc’s shoulder, studying the cryptic note. “PCB in number two could mean a lot of things. Number two tank or tanker?”

“Earl? Who’s that?”

Brie searched her memory. “Linc, I don’t know when John might have made that note. He was forever making notations. Earl might have been one of his teachers in college, for all I know.”

Excitement surged through Linc, and his mind began to work. “Number two could be a fuel oil grade, too. Couldn’t it? You know, the oil people use to heat their homes.”

“Yes, it could.” Her brow wrinkled. “But PCB in fuel grade oil is illegal because PCBs are known to cause cancer.”

Linc got even more excited and snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute! A certain level of PCB is found in the oil of older transformers. It could refer to an electric company, one of the companies you gave a hefty fine to—Ohio Utility.”

“By law and EPA regulations, that oil is to be drained from the transformers and trucked to disposal sites.”

Linc nodded, putting his finger on the name Earl and tapping it. “I’m going over to the police department.” He’d call Washington and get their computers to check on all the company representatives that John and Brie had checked in the past five years to see if an Earl showed up.

“Okay, go ahead,” Brie said. “I’m staying here to clean up.”

*

After working six hours nonstop, Brie sat at the kitchen table. Slowly, her home was taking on a familiarity once again. Her mind returned to Linc and his keen interest in her problem. Every time she thought of him, her body felt like a simmering caldron of fire. Brie tried not to think of the obvious, that she was possibly falling in love with Linc. There was nothing not to like about him, she decided, feeling serene for the first time in nearly six months. He was honest, hardworking and loyal, attributes she applauded.

*

Linc came back four hours later. He entered the room, a look of triumph on his face.

“We may have struck pay dirt,” he said, sitting down next to her on the couch. “Earl Hansen, the representative from Carter Fuel and Oil, was coughed out by the computer.”

“Oh, Linc, he couldn’t possibly be a suspect!”

“Everyone is at this point, Brie.”

Brie shook her head, not wanting to believe it. “Linc, he’s a dear, sweet man.” She grimaced, seeing the implacable set of Linc’s jaw. “He used to bring me wild-
flowers from around the corner of the office,” she muttered defensively. “How can a man who is that thoughtful and sensitive be contaminating fuel oil?”

He reached over, capturing her hand. “Believe me, little cat, people will do anything with enough reason,” he murmured. Linc saw the genuine distress in Brie’s eyes and felt badly.

“What are we going to do?”

He held her cool, damp hand in his, trying to soothe her. “I think I’ll pay a visit to Carter Fuel under cover of darkness, take a few samples from their underground tanks and get the oil analyzed. If they are mixing PCB with good fuel oil, it isn’t going to be in their office records, you can count on that.”

“And if the PCB shows up?”

“Go to the authorities and have them arrest Earl and Frank Carter.”

Tears gathered in Brie’s eyes. “Earl is innocent! He just isn’t the kind of man who would do something like that, Linc.”

His mouth tightened. “Don’t forget, John was murdered, and someone tried to kill you, too,” he told her quietly. His words had a chilling effect on Brie. He hated shattering her illusions about people.

“All right, then I’m going with you.”

“What?”

Brie got up. “I said I’m going with you.”

“No way. This could get dangerous, Brie. How do we know Carter doesn’t have a security guard who patrols that place at night?”

“Carter has a huge German shepherd that’s loose within that fenced area.” She gave him a slight smile of
triumph. “And I just happen to know the dog, Captain, very well. If I’m along, I doubt if he’ll bark or attack you when we go over the fence to get those samples.”

Linc chafed, he didn’t want Brie along. But a dog was harder to fool than a sentry, and dogs barked, alerting everyone.

“Besides, Linc, if Carter does have PCB in the fuel oil, how do we know it’s in the underground tanks? Why couldn’t it be in any one of the five trucks in his garage?”

She was right. That would mean taking several samples and spending a lot of time collecting them. The possibility of getting caught was doubled because of the time factor. If Brie did come along, that time could be cut in half. “Okay, you’re coming along,” he said gruffly, standing. “First let me contact the police.” In reality he’d contact Cramer at ATF, apprising him of everything, in case something went wrong. That he had to put Brie in a potential line of fire agitated Linc. It would be so much simpler if he could walk in with a search warrant. If he did, Carter would get suspicious, legally stall for time, then remove any evidence before they could get their samples. And then where would they be? Dammit!

*

Brie crouched next to Linc, her heart hammering away in her throat. She checked the time on her watch: three o’clock. Linc had made her get into her dark blue uniform and wear a long-sleeved black sweater beneath it to cover her arms. Then he had produced a tin of black substance and she had had to smear it all over her face until only the whites of her eyes showed. She wore a thin black knit cap over her hair. Linc had on a differ
ent outfit: a body-molding black nylon suit. He looked frightening, Brie thought. This was the military part of Linc Tanner with which she was now dealing. Every piece of equipment he carried on his person had a use, including the 350 magnum in the black shoulder holster. A shiver crawled up her spine. When she questioned his expertise, he muttered something about learning it in Vietnam. She believed him.

“There goes the cruiser,” Linc whispered, nodding to a Litton police car that crawled by the facility, which sat at the edge of town. “He won’t be back for another hour. Okay, go get Captain.”

Brie gave him a frightened look, felt his hand gripping hers and rose. They had been sitting for a while near the brush along the creek behind the fuel oil company. They had made sure no one was inside the compound and that the police cruisers passed by at regular intervals. She was amazed at what Linc knew about this sort of activity and was a little in awe of him as a result.

She stumbled going up the sandy incline. Quickly recovering, Brie walked with a confidence she didn’t feel toward the fence. Captain was on his feet, his hackles rising, his huge yellow eyes becoming wolflike slits.

“Captain!” Brie called softly, whistling to him. “Come on, boy! It’s Brie, remember?” What if the German shepherd didn’t recognize her? He had always followed her around when she visited before. Brie crouched down by the wire fence, calling the dog. Sweat popped out on her upper lip and her mouth went dry when Captain began an ominous growl. He approached her in long, graceful strides. It was a moonlit night, and
Brie could see the feral glitter in the animal’s eyes. She shoved her hand through the wire and held it out to him, wondering if he was going to bite her. A choked sound came out of her throat as Captain opened his mouth, revealing his white fangs.

“Captain!” she called more firmly.

The German shepherd halted a foot from her.

“What’s the matter with you? You know who I am. Brie, remember?” She worked her hand farther through the fence, the flesh pinched by the wire. “Now come here! Come on!”

Captain hesitated then gave a friendly wag of his tail. Relief surged through Brie as she felt Captain’s welcoming tongue on her fingers. She slowly got up on wobbly knees, the dog whining and remaining where he was. In a moment, Linc was at her side.

“Grab his collar and keep him occupied.” Linc put down a small satchel, then pulled out a hypodermic needle filled with a clear liquid.

Brie’s eyes widened as she saw him sink the needle into Captain’s hindquarter. Moments later, the dog slowly sank to the ground. Brie uttered a cry.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?”

Linc threw the satchel over the fence. Gripping her by the waist, he said, “No, he’ll be unconscious for about an hour if I’ve guessed the dose correctly. Okay, up you go. Remember, swing one leg clear.”