Deadly Justice (12 page)

She snorted a laugh, and her cheeks flushed a becoming pink.  “You're kidding, right?  I love my brother, but work for the same company?  Especially with him as my boss?  No way, no how.  We'd kill each other within the first week.”

Carpenter grinned.  Yeah, he understood that.  He'd interned with his grandfather one summer and they'd nearly come to blows more than once. 

“Working for Lawrence was the next best alternative.  I had a job I was qualified to do, and independence.  A win-win.”

“Okay.  Other than the man's gambling problem, do you know of any other pseudo-illegal activities he's involved in?” 

Her gaze shifted to glance over his right shoulder, not quite meeting his.  Hmm.  Might be a tell, an indication she wasn't going to be completely forthright.  He needed to keep an eye on that move. 

“I'm not sure what you're inferring.  I told you about his intermittent betting and getting in over his head.  So far, I've been able to keep him from getting his legs broken.”

“No, sweetheart, I'm talking about something bigger than the gambling.  Maybe drugs?”

“No!  I mean, he occasionally smokes some pot, though never in the office.  A couple of times when I had to deliver papers to his home for his signature I've smelled it.  But you mean selling drugs?”  She shook her head.  “Honestly, I don't think he's smart enough to handle something that complicated.”

No shifting of her eyes that time. 
Truth
. 
Okay, let's try another track. 

“No drugs, got it.  What about something more tangible—like guns?”  It was the proverbial shot in the dark, but she might know more than she let on.

There it was again, the gaze up and over his right shoulder before she answered.  Yep, it was a definite tell.  There was a burning in his chest that seemed to radiate from his heart.  It saddened him to think she'd lie to cover for somebody doing something as despicable as gunrunning. 

“I don't know.”  Her quietly whispered response surprised him.  He'd expected an outright lie.  Instead, she'd admitted to not knowing.  A quick grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he fought it down.  Now wasn't the time to show emotion.  It was time to probe further, get her to open up about what she knew.

“That's an ambiguous and fairly revealing answer.  What makes you uncertain, Andrea?”  He settled against the corner of the desk.  He'd much rather be moving around the room, but remained still and focused, needing to keep pressure on the striking woman seated before him.  Once he had answers, figured out the lead to Webster's location, then he could relax and explore things with the pretty little vixen who'd fascinated him from the start.  Until then, she was a person of interest, guilty by association. 

She sighed, scrubbing her hands across her face.  “I'm not one hundred percent sure why I'd even suspect anything, but he's been dealing with the vice president of the imports division a lot recently.  It could be nothing.  We started importing a new line of computer tablets and parts from an overseas manufacturer we'd never used previously, and he's probably being cautious because of the high turnover of products.”

“But you suspect it may be something more.”  It wasn't a question, but she apparently took it as one.

“Normally, any information from the vice presidents would be directed to my computer, and I'd handle any problems or direct the inquiries to the appropriate division support.  If I questioned anything, I'd take it up with Mr. Mitchell.  Instead, things have been funneled directly to him, bypassing me completely.” 

Carpenter ran a hand through his hair, and straightened from his casual posture.  Taken as just an isolated thing, Mitchell dealing with a vice president might not be construed as anything out of the ordinary.  But add it to the wire transfer linked to Richard Webster, and it ratcheted things from coincidence to suspicious.

“Let's say your suspicions are correct.  Anybody among Mitchell's associates who might be working with him, maybe funneling weapons into his shipments?” 

“I haven't got a clue.”  She leaned forward, her gaze never wavering.  “Before Lawrence took off with his girlfriend, leaving me to deal with the whole charity event, I'd planned on sneaking into his office and going through his files.” 

“And then you found his office ransacked.”

She nodded.  “Yes.  You know everything else.  I never got the chance to look for anything.” 

With a sigh, he walked around his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out her cellphone.  He couldn't keep her isolated forever.  Maybe a show of good faith might earn him some brownie points.  Getting her to trust him a little, maybe get back to the rapport they'd started building, might go a long way in figuring out their next move.

“Here.” 

She looked at the phone and then at him.  “Why are you giving this back?” 

“I’m not a monster or the bad guy in all this, sweetheart.  I'm doing my job and trying to find the real bad guy.  You were the best lead I've had in a long time, but I've got no reason to think you're anything but what you've claimed.  So I'm trusting you.”  He held the phone out and she took it. 

“I would like you to stay with me.  Here.  Until we hear back from the police about what they find out about the break-in at your office.”  Though he said the words, he hoped she'd stay, because he had no intention of letting her leave.  Not yet. 

She contemplated his words for so long he'd almost convinced himself she'd say no.  “Okay,” she whispered.

“Good.”  He reached out a hand and helped her to her feet, struck again by her scent when she walked past him.  His hands itched to pull her back against him and wrap her in his arms and never let her go.  But he couldn't, because she was the job.  The means to an end—capturing Richard Webster.  Take his eyes off the prize at this point and he'd lose everything. 

The door closed behind her with a soft click and he rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes.  With a final glance at the door, he walked around and plopped into his chair. 

“I am screwed.” 

A
ndrea pulled out the cellphone she'd gotten back from Carpenter and dialed her brother. Zach picked up on the first ring.

“Can you talk?”  His deep voice was exactly what she needed to hear, especially after the day she'd been having.  Zach didn't go for small talk, especially after the call earlier, and she knew exactly what to say.

“Screecher, please.”  Her brother would know she wanted him to activate the scrambler which would block anybody from recording or listening in on their conversation.  All they'd get was a loud screeching sound, an unintelligible garbled mess.  It was one of his newer toys that the Agency desperately wanted to get their hands on.  Big brother was smart, though, and was holding out on them.

“Done.  What the hell is going on, sis?  How'd you get involved with Carpenter?  I've gotta tell you, the man is sharp and he's connected.  I don't know how high his reach goes, but you are in over your head.” 

“I'm not backing down, Zach.  You know I can't.”

Her brother sighed loud enough to be heard over the phone.  “John wouldn't have wanted this for you.  He loved you and he'd want you to be happy, not focused on some twisted path of revenge.”

Andrea winced at the mention of her former fiancé's name.  John Lockwood had been her best friend for years before they became engaged.  A cop, he'd been killed in the line of duty during a drug bust gone wrong.  He'd loved his job and helping people, but he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and interrupted a deal gone bad and been shot through the head, execution style. 

“I have to do this.  Richard Webster was behind John's death and until he's brought down, locked in a jail cell or planted six feet under, it's not over.”  She stared out her bedroom window into the vivid blue water filling the pool.  It was a beautiful oasis, but right now its serenity wasn't having any soothing effect on her rattled emotions. 

She'd almost broken down and told Carpenter the truth, the real reason she'd gone to work for Mitchell.  How had she let him get to her like this?  She'd loved her fiancé with all her heart, but she found herself attracted to Samuel Carpenter with an intensity she'd never felt with John.

“What can I do?” 

“Right now, nothing.  Carpenter's suspicious of me, but I don't think he's got any idea I'm searching for Webster for my own reasons.  His computer guy, Carlisle?  He's really good.  I had no idea he'd trailed the wire transfer Mitchell had me send, but somehow he sniffed it out, and that's what put Carpenter on my tail.” 

“Carlisle?  Do you mean Stefan Carlisle?”  Her brother let out a whistle.  “I tried to hire him a couple of years ago to work for me.  He's brilliant.”

Andrea smiled.  She heard the aggravation in her brother's voice.  He didn't like not getting what he wanted, and apparently he'd wanted Carlisle. 

“He's good enough he found a back door into Simco.”

“Seriously?  You and I both tried and couldn't get past their encrypted firewall.”

“He did.  Got all the way into the Human Resources Department, but when he tried to get into Jacob Simmons' file, he got attacked by a fast-moving virus that fried his laptop.  I doubt that will keep him out for long though.  He's kind of—focused.”

“It all comes back to Simmons.  Have you got any idea what they were looking for?”

“Not a clue.  Can you send me everything you've got on him?  Files, photos, anything.  He's connected to this somehow.  Maybe if I play nice with Carpenter, I can get more info.  I have to get to Webster first.”  She clenched the phone in her hand tight enough it'd probably have fingernail marks when she hung up.  The thought that Webster still walked the streets as a free man while John was buried six feet under burned like acid in the pit of her stomach. 
Damn him!

“I'll send everything to your cloud backup.  But, sis, be careful.  Carpenter can be a deadly enemy if you cross him.  He's relentless, but I've heard he's also fair.  Find out what he knows, and trust your gut.  Maybe work
with
him instead of separate.  It might be the ticket to bringing down Richard Webster once and for all.” 

“I'll think about it.”  She'd done nothing but think about working with Carpenter ever since she realized they had the same end game, finding Richard Webster.  But she was afraid she'd lose out on her chance for revenge when they caught up to him.  Carpenter seemed the kind to toss a man behind bars and leave him to the tender mercies of the judicial system. 

She couldn't allow that to happen.  Webster had too many friends in high places and he'd find a way to walk away a free man.  No, she'd come too far to let him live. 

“Love you, Zach.  Thanks for everything.”

“Love you too, sis.  Call if you need anything.  I can be there in less than an hour.” 

She couldn't help smiling at his words.  Even after all this time, he was still the overprotective big brother, wanting to shield her from all the evils of the world.  Only some things you couldn't be protected from—you had to protect yourself or die trying. 

“I will, I promise.  Just get me those files ASAP.” 

She disconnected the call, and tried to figure out what to do next.  Could she trust Carpenter?  Everything he'd done up to this point would indicate he wasn't trustworthy.  Shoot, he'd run her down with his car just to get close to her. 

Plus, there was the tracker he'd put in her shoe at the benefit.  He didn't know she'd found it, but she wasn't stupid.  Unless he had some kinky foot fetish, what man takes off a woman's shoes and massages her feet when he barely knows her?  Though it had felt wonderful, she'd instinctively grown suspicious.  He'd been up to something and it hadn't taken more than a quick trip to the ladies room to find his little added bonus tucked into the toe of her shoe. 

She'd left it there since she hadn't planned on going anywhere else after the party, and hadn't worn those heels since.  Now, she always checked to see if he'd tagged her with a tracker, but so far there hadn't been any more.  Then again, he really hadn't needed one.  She was practically a prisoner in his home.

Could she afford to trust him?  Her mind said absolutely no.  But there was more at play here than just her brain.  Her heart told her to follow her gut instinct, the little voice that said he'd never hurt her, to give him a chance. 

She was torn.  Torn between the image of her fiancé lying on the cold dark ground with a bullet in his brain, and the tall, handsome man who made every nerve tingle with unawakened promises.  

First things first, though.  She needed to get her laptop back from Carpenter and study Zach's files.  Maybe they'd help make her decision.  If she made the wrong choice, Richard Webster's life wasn't the only one on the line, and that thought chilled her to the bone. 

C
arpenter pulled Andrea's laptop out of his desk and carefully laid it on the polished desktop.  When she'd asked for it back earlier, he'd hesitated and read the hurt in her eyes.  Damn it, he couldn't afford to be swayed by a beautiful woman, not at this juncture of the investigation.  This was as close to Richard Webster as he'd gotten in a long time.  Nothing would keep him from finally taking the bastard down—not even Andrea.

A quiet knock on the study door sounded before it was inched forward and Andrea stuck her head through.  He waved her in, a clenching in his gut.  She'd probably come to try and get the laptop again, and he had no legitimate reason for keeping it.  Carlisle had duplicated the entire thing just a few hours ago, and he'd get a report on anything and everything it contained, so why was he reluctant to give it to her? 

It boiled down to trust.  He wanted her to trust him enough to share its contents without having to pry and steal whatever he needed.  Not that he was above that—as he'd proven by having Carlisle dig into her computer and her background.  She looked squeaky clean on the surface.  Nothing in her past threw up any warning signs, which in and of itself was a screaming look-at-me red flag.  It was too pristine, without any gaps or missing time.  There was definitely more to Ms. Andrea Kirkland than what they'd found so far.  Which was why he'd keep Carlisle digging—because he needed to know everything.  Because his gut screamed that she was hiding something—big.