Deadly Intuition (Hardy Brothers Security Book 2) (3 page)

Grady was still stewing about Sophie Lane an hour later when he returned to Hardy Brothers Security. James and Finn were sitting in the downstairs office talking, so Grady threw himself into the open office chair, sighing dramatically to make sure they were paying proper attention to him.

James raised his eyebrows. “Problem?”

“You failed to mention that the Daily Tribune is a nut barn,” Grady said. “That little tidbit might have helped.”

Finn chuckled. “Nut barn?”

“The people there are crazy,” Grady said. “Oh, by the way, Marge was crushed when I told her you wouldn’t be coming this week because you were tending to your sick girlfriend.”

James smirked. “What did she say?”

“She wanted to know if it was serious.”

“What did you say?”

“I lied,” Grady replied, shooting James a double thumbs-up. “In her mind, she’s still got a shot.”

“Who is Marge?” Finn asked.

“She’s the receptionist at the newspaper,” Grady said. “She’s in love with James and his dreamy eyes.”

“I’m sure she would settle for you,” James shot back. “Did she really call my eyes dreamy?”

Grady ignored the question.

“What’s she look like?” Finn asked.

“She’s not your type.”

“How do you know what my type is?”

“Let’s just says she smiles all the time and leave it at that,” Grady said. “Three of the advertising women did insist on walking me back out to the lobby, though.”

“Hey, some of them are attractive,” James said. “You could’ve probably gotten lucky with one – or more – of them, if you really tried.”

“They’re not my type.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re too … agreeable,” Grady replied.

James snorted. “I forgot. You only like them when they say no before they say yes. You like the challenge.”

Grady’s mind drifted to Sophie. “Not all of them.” And not
that
big of a challenge.

“Uh-oh, I know that look,” Finn teased. “What’s her name?”

“What’s whose name?” Grady asked, feigning innocence.

“Whatever woman did catch your fancy,” Finn pressed. “If it wasn’t the women in advertising – and Marge is too happy – there has to be someone else. You’ve got that … look.”

“What look?”

“That someone-told-me-no-and-I-need-them-right-now look,” Finn said, merriment flitting across his face.

“I don’t have a look.”

James steepled his fingers, regarding Grady with an unreadable expression. “I have to agree with Finn on this one. You’ve got a look.”

“I didn’t meet anyone I was interested in,” Grady argued.

“Okay.”

The room lapsed into silence for a moment.

“There was a woman who had some sort of incident in the parking lot as I was leaving, though,” Grady said, avoiding meeting either of his brothers’ interested gazes.

James and Finn exchanged amused glances.

“She’s a reporter there,” Grady continued. “Sophie something-or-other. Some guy was giving her a hard time when she was trying to leave.”

“Do you know what it was about?” Finn asked.

“She said it was nothing and that she had no idea who he was,” Grady said.

“You don’t believe her?” James asked.

“I don’t think she’s lying, if that’s what you mean,” Grady replied. “I just think the guy seemed really intense, like he was upset about something really specific. He was kind of a jerk.”

“And we have no idea what she’s working on?” Finn asked.

James opened his laptop. “We can find out pretty easily. What’s her last name?”

“I didn’t catch it.”

James typed for a few minutes, his attention focused on the laptop screen. “Her name is Sophie Lane.”

“Like Lois Lane?” Finn said, his eyes sparkling. “You could be Superman in bed. That’s got to be fun.”

“She’s got the personality of Lex Luthor,” Grady grumbled.

Finn pursed his lips but refrained from saying anything, instead focusing his attention back on James. “Anything?”

“She’s got quite an impressive list of stories here,” James said. “How old is she?”

“She’s young,” Grady said. “Like mid-twenties. What kind of stories did you find?”

“There’s a lot of county corruption scandals here,” James said, continuing to scan the screen. “She’s the one who took down Donald Jaye out in Romeo last year.”

“That’s the guy who was dating a sixteen-year-old, right?” Finn asked.

“That’s the scumbag,” James said, nodding. “It looks like, at least for the last three months or so, she’s been torturing the sheriff’s department with a series of stories about missing funds and prisoner mistreatment.”

Grady leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “The guy I saw didn’t look like he was a cop, so I think we can rule out the sheriff’s department there.”

“What if he’s related to one of the prisoners who was supposedly mistreated at the county jail, though?” Finn asked.

Grady considered the question. “I guess that’s possible. What do the stories say about the missing money?”

James read further. “It looks like more than $600,000 is missing from the county coffers. The county commission is blaming the sheriff’s department. The sheriff’s department is saying that they never received the funds.”

“And there’s no paper trail?” Finn asked. “That doesn’t sound likely. I thought there were checks and balances in place for stuff like this.”

“People fake the checks and balances,” James said. “That’s why there’s always so much corruption in government. It looks like she’s put a lot of time in on this story. It’s supposed to be addressed at tomorrow night’s county commission meeting. It looks like it will be a real madhouse.”

“Why haven’t we heard more about this?” Grady asked.

“I don’t know,” James replied, shrugging. “Maybe we just weren’t paying attention. We’ve been busy with other stuff.”

“Still, this is a big story,” Grady said. “I can’t imagine how we missed it.”

“Missed what?”

Everyone’s attention shifted to the doorway where Mandy had suddenly appeared. She was a beautiful woman, bright blue eyes and a welcoming smile usually gracing her sculpted face. Right now, though, all that beauty was hidden under pale features and sunken eyes.

“Hey, kid. Don’t take offense at this, but you look awful,” Grady said. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Mandy’s hair was pulled away from her face into a messy ponytail, which jostled back and forth as she shook her head. She was wearing fuzzy
Hello Kitty
pajama pants, and one of James’ oversized T-shirts, making her look younger than her twenty-five years. “I just wondered where everyone was. I woke up and the apartment was empty.”

“I just came down to get some work done,” James said. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Mandy didn’t look angry about being abandoned during her time of need. “It’s not like I want you to watch me puke – or dry heave now – every hour,” Mandy countered. “I was just curious what was going on. I feel like I’m disconnected from the real world.”

James smiled. “It’s okay to be sick, baby. You don’t have to be Wonder Woman all the time.”

Mandy smiled dully. “You’re wasting your charm right now,” she said. “You have no chance of getting laid, and I don’t have the energy to muster any enthusiasm for anything heavier than
General Hospital
.”

James cocked his head to the side. “Do you want to try and eat something? I’ll go and get whatever you want.”

“I’d rather not throw up again,” Mandy said. “I’ll try eating something tomorrow.”

“You should at least try drinking something,” James prodded.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Finn and Grady laughed. “At least your head is in a good place,” Grady teased.

Mandy leaned against the doorframe, resting her forehead against the cool, metal bar. “What were you guys talking about when I came in?”

“Do you know anything about this county corruption scandal?” Finn asked.

Mandy furrowed her brow. “The money missing from the sheriff’s department? Yeah. It’s a big deal. Everyone is talking about it.”

“How come we don’t know about it?” Grady asked.

“I don’t think they’re talking about it in the circles you run in,” Mandy replied.

Grady was offended – at least he was fairly certain he was. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Do you hang out with county officials a lot?”

“No.”

“Do you watch the news every night?”

“No.”

“Do you read the newspapers every day?”

“No.”

“So, given all that, how do you think you would’ve heard about it?” Mandy asked, her blue eyes curious but devoid of recrimination.

Grady stuck out his tongue. “You’re a pain when you’re sick.”

“If you ask your brother, I’m a pain whether I’m sick or not,” Mandy replied. “It’s just one of those things you have to be looking for to pay attention to.”

Grady was confused. “I don’t have to be looking for signs to know you’re a pain. You’ve been a pain since you were a kid.”

Mandy reached over, smacking the top of his head lightly. “That’s not what I was referring to. I was talking about the corruption scandal.”

“Oh.”

“What do you think will happen?” Finn questioned.

Mandy shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve worked for the county long enough to know that someone will lose their job over this.”

“The sheriff?” James asked, his tone hopeful. He didn’t have a lot of respect for the department.

“Doubtful,” Mandy said. “He’ll blame someone else. We may never know who actually stole the money – or where it went.” Mandy raised her hand to her stomach, her face twisting uncomfortably. “Crap. Not again.”

The Hardy brothers watched her go, cringing in unison when they heard the office-bathroom door slam shut.

“Did the doctor give you any idea when she would be better again?” Finn asked. “I actually feel a little sorry for her.”

James sighed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “Hopefully tomorrow. I’m supposed to make sure she eats bland food for a week.”

“That sounds fun,” Grady said. “Maybe you should make her some soup? You could put a little apron on, and serve it to her in bed like a good boyfriend.”

James pushed his chair away from his desk and got to his feet, ignoring the pointed jab. “My blonde calls. Do you guys need anything before I cart her upstairs for the night?”

Finn shook his head. “Just take care of her. I actually miss the nonstop sarcasm and teasing.”

James smiled, the expression rueful. “Me, too.”

Sophie was ready for war. Sure, it wasn’t actual war – but she was going to be slugging it out in the trenches with some of Macomb County’s best, brightest, and most powerful over the next few hours, and the thought made her giddy.

That’s as close to war as she ever hoped to get.

She settled into a chair in the back row of the county-commission chamber, notebook in hand, and surveyed the room. County commission meetings were often full – but this room would be overflowing within the next fifteen minutes. The corruption scandal had caught the attention – and ire – of the entire county.

The financial crash that hit the nation as a whole years before was still causing problems in Michigan. The automotive industry was struggling to recover. Since Southeastern Michigan’s economy was based on the automotive industry to a large degree, even decades after the auto boom that solidified the state’s reputation was almost forgotten, that meant a lot of people were still struggling financially. That meant they were angry. And, when people were angry, they wanted someone to blame. The government was an easy mark.

Sophie listened to a few people as they talked around her. Most were expressing outrage. Others had some wild conspiracy theories, most of which couldn’t possibly be true. Some, though, were silent and fixated on the chairs in front of the room. Waiting. They didn’t have to wait long. The county commissioners filed in and sat down in their designated spots within a few minutes.

Sophie recognized the county sheriff, Aaron Morgan, standing against the far wall. He was scanning the room and, when his gaze fell on her, he let it settle for an uncomfortable minute. Sophie met his accusing glare evenly. She wasn’t about to back down now.

The commission chairman banged the meeting into order. Sheriff Morgan broke eye contact first, focusing his attention on the front of the room. After a few seconds, Sophie shifted her gaze there as well.

The meeting went pretty much how she expected it would. Public comments were on the agenda at the beginning, which meant a steady stream of angry residents and public accusations kicked everything off. By the time everyone said their due, the entire room felt like a cesspool of rage.

When it was finally time for the county commissioners to discuss the situation themselves, Sophie wasn’t surprised by what happened.

“I think we need to form an investigative panel,” said Peter Hamblin, a Republican from Harrison Township. “We can’t afford this kind of graft on the county level. We need to find out where that money went, who took it, and then take the appropriate steps to get it back.”

The crowd murmured their approval.

“I agree,” said Tara Black, a Democrat from Roseville. “I think we should have at least six people on the panel. How about three from each party? That assures both sides have representation and will be able to follow whatever paths they see fit. We need to work together on this.”

Sophie knew there was no way anyone would argue. Picking a political affiliation over a united front at this point would just further enrage people.

Sheriff Morgan finally stirred from his spot, moving toward the microphone at the center of the room with a purpose. “Maybe I speak?”

The commission president, Sam Arnett, nodded and held out his hand in an accommodating manner. “Of course. We would be happy to hear from you.”

“I think … .”

“You should identify yourself, for the record,” Arnett said, clearly enjoying the power he wielded in this specific situation.

A muscle ticked in Sheriff Morgan’s jaw. “My name is Aaron Morgan. I am currently serving my second term as sheriff of Macomb County.” He waited to see if there would be further comment. When it became apparent there wouldn’t be, he continued. “I understand that this … situation … is a big concern for the county.”

“I should think so,” Black said. “That money could be going to infrastructure. Roads. County services.”

Sheriff Morgan ignored her. “I would request time to be able to conduct a full internal investigation into my department. If the culpable party works for me, I will find them.”

Commissioner Hamblin laughed, the sound hollow as it echoed throughout the room. “Last time I checked, you denied ever receiving the money.”

“And that’s why I have to investigate,” Sheriff Morgan said.

“And how much time do you want to investigate?” Commissioner Black pressed. “This has been cause for concern … media fodder … for three months now. From what I can tell, you haven’t done a thing. Instead, you’ve ignored the problem in the hopes of it just disappearing.”

“That is completely untrue,” Sheriff Morgan countered. “We have been looking into the situation. Investigations like this take time. They don’t just get magically solved.”

“You have taken time, and come up with nothing,” another commissioner piped in. “Why should we give you more time?”

“I think the time for waiting is over,” Commissioner Hamblin said. “I think the time for action is upon us.”

Sheriff Morgan furrowed his brow. “I am an elected official. You have no power over me.”

“Unless you’ve done something illegal,” Commissioner Hamblin corrected. “If you’ve done something illegal, than we do have power over you. We can instruct the prosecutor’s office to file appropriate charges if that becomes an issue.”

“And, in case you’ve forgotten,” Commissioner Black added. “We are the county government. That means we have power over your department. We may not be able to oust you from office, but we do have the power to make rules, set budgets, and decide upon investigative methods when necessary.”

Sophie could see Sheriff Morgan’s Adam’s Apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard. “So, your decision has already been made?”

“It has.”

The meeting progressed for another hour, but nothing of substance was achieved. Sophie took the time to interview a few residents for additional color once the meeting adjourned, and then made her way down to the main floor of the county building.

She wasn’t surprised to find Sheriff Morgan waiting for her outside. “Ms. Lane.”

He was trying to be intimidating, but Sophie refused to be intimidated. She didn’t care who he was – or how powerful he fancied himself. “Sheriff Morgan.”

Up close, Sheriff Morgan was an attractive man. His hair was brown, cropped a few inches from his head, and his eyes were an intense shade of green. He was trim, not overtly built, but clearly in shape. He also exuded power – like most politicians, even at a local level, and he liked to bask in his power base.

Tonight, Sheriff Morgan didn’t exemplify any of the amiable traits he trotted out during local election cycles. “I suppose you’re happy with yourself.”

“How am I to blame for this?”

“You’re the one who went digging for trouble – even if you had to manufacture it,” Sheriff Morgan replied.

Sophie caught a hint of movement out of the corner of her eye, recognizing Morgan’s right-hand man, John Madison, pacing near one of the county building’s flower gardens. Sophie turned her attention back to the sheriff. “I didn’t manufacture anything.”

“If that’s your story.”

Madison reached for Morgan’s arm, tugging on it insistently. “Let’s get out of here. You’re not going to accomplish anything here.”

Sheriff Morgan ignored him. “You’re just trying to make a name for yourself. You’re building your career on the backs of hardworking police officers, not caring if you ruin them.”

“I’m trying to find out the truth,” Sophie countered. “The fact that you don’t want me to find out the truth says a lot about your character.”

“The truth?” Morgan spat. “You wouldn’t know the truth if it smacked you in the face.”

“Why don’t you enlighten me?” Sophie challenged. Her heart was hammering, but she was trying to exude a sense of calm given the situation.

“The money hasn’t been stolen,” Morgan said. “It’s just … misplaced. It will show up somewhere. This is just an accounting error. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

Sophie quirked an eyebrow. “Can I quote you on that?”

“That this is an error? You bet your ass.”

Madison tightened his grip on Sheriff Morgan’s arm. “Now is not the time, Aaron. Walk it off. You’re just making things worse.”

He really was. Since Morgan had a reputation as a hothead, Sophie wasn’t surprised at his little outburst. Quite frankly, she expected it to be worse.

“We need to go,” Madison pressed.

Sheriff Morgan blew out a sigh, wrenching his arm from Madison’s grasp. “I get it, John. We’re going. Christ.”

Sophie watched the duo for a second, trying to wrap her mind around their relationship. Madison acted more like Sheriff Morgan’s father than his employee – a distinction that had perplexed Sophie since she started covering county government two years before.

There was something
off
there.

Sophie’s attention was snared by the sound of squealing tires. She turned to the empty street in front of the county building. It was late – too late for random traffic in the area – and the noise was cause for concern.

Sophie focused on a vehicle – an older model Ford of some kind – as it turned the corner from the ghettos of Mount Clemens and pulled onto Main Street. The hair on Sophie’s arms was standing on end. She knew something was wrong. Just like a television show, though, she couldn’t make herself move from where she was standing. It was like she was frozen in time and space.

The car was zooming down the road, finally slowing some as it moved past the county building.

The back window of the car was lowering – as if in slow motion. Sophie recognized the barrel of a gun poking through the open window. Suddenly, the world exploded around her as a series of small explosions echoed throughout the night air.

Instinct took over. Sophie dropped to the ground as gunfire rendered her temporarily deaf.

Then everything went dark.