Deadly Testimony (8 page)

It would be cheaper to eliminate the one witness providing testimony than pay the fines associated with each instance of the civil case. Plus, multiple instances meant executives involved could be facing enough back-to-back sentences in jail to miss the majority of their lives.

No wonder people wanted Kyle dead.

“Once those containers are recovered, I believe—even if I can’t prove—authorities will discover they were smuggling other goods.” Kyle dragged his hand through his hair. “I’m not sure what though, so there are further investigations going on. I don’t even know if this is the only trial I need to get through.”

There were a lot of red flags as far as she was concerned, enough to make her restless.

“Not knowing what you don’t know is dangerous. It could be key to keeping you alive.” She slipped past Kyle and headed for her duffel. Pulling out her slim tablet, she set it on the coffee table along with a small wireless router.

Kyle paused in his pacing. “For a person in what I considered to be a very physically focused job, you spend a large amount of time on technology. What are you doing now?”

“I’m firing up my personal mobile hot spot and logging in to Safeguard’s virtual private network.” It didn’t take long to get everything up and running. “I don’t like waiting around to see if someone is going to take a poke at me. I’m going to do some digging into your friends Tall, Slow and Grumpy from last night. Could be they were hired by the same interested party or could be there’s multiple contracts out on you. It’d be good to know who is active in the area and likely to be looking for you.”

He resumed his pacing. “I don’t suppose your research will be instantaneous.”

“Nope.” Though she was already sending an update to Diaz to let him know what she was doing and reaching out to a contact or two who might be able to run some queries in parallel with her own line of research. “I like to keep busy at times like this.”

“And here I thought you’d spend most of your time watching the door or the window.” There was no edge to Kyle’s words but he did have a hefty dose of sarcasm in there. “I really am not the type to watch movies.”

She paused. “Do you have experience in this kind of research? Background checks? Organizational contacts?”

It would actually put a new perspective on things. She’d start wondering what sorts of resources he managed when he was overseeing the projects he managed for Phoenix Biotech.

But Kyle shook his head. “All of the projects I oversaw had to do with chemical formulation and manufacturing process development, production scale-up and quality oversight before the chemicals we sell are shipped to various biotech companies worldwide. I was responsible for project management and financial accountability on those projects. The chemical engineers and raw material vendors in my networks were in support of those areas of concentration. Not a one of them would employ Tall, Slow or Grumpy.”

He smiled as he used her labels for the thugs. And she let herself smile in return. Actually, a part of her was relieved. It helped her believe he truly hadn’t been knowingly part of the uglier side of whatever Phoenix Biotech was up to.

“I hate the comparison, but they’re likely to have more in common with me professionally than you in terms of network connections.” And didn’t that just burn to admit.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “I imagine the scope of what they can do is extremely limited as compared to your range of skills.”

“You’d be right.” She continued to bring up search windows, fingers flying over the ultralight wireless keyboard. “But that doesn’t make dealing with them more enjoyable in any way.”

“You’re not pleased at all in working around large, heavily muscled men of action?” His tone had gone back to teasing.

She fired off one more query and slowly raised her gaze to meet his. “I respect people who are good at what they do. Not a one of those men was above average in strength, dexterity or intelligence. They weren’t exactly charismatic either.”

Kyle held her gaze for a long moment. “Someday, I hope to have the opportunity to demonstrate for you how very good I am at the various things I do.”

Chapter Nine

Kyle studied Isabelle a few moments longer. She was studiously ignoring him at this point but there was a telltale hint of dusky rose showing through her bronze complexion. His commentary wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

Grinning, he decided to give her some space. Or as much as was possible in a shared hotel room. Even a junior suite layout with a sitting area. His longer stride made pacing the room less than a valid option for keeping himself busy.

Instead his gaze landed on the bags she’d brought up from the front desk. She’d specifically said they wouldn’t be ordering room service either. If she’d gone and gotten takeout, it had to be something nearby and ready in record time.

Resigned to fast food, he strode over to the bags to investigate what was for dinner. He’d only had a few bites of the excellent sandwich he’d put together and he suffered a pang of regret for having had to leave those supplies behind.

What he found instead was a series of small containers, carefully labeled, and he froze. “Where did you go for food?”

Isabelle didn’t even look up from her laptop. “Safeguard has connections to an excellent catering company in downtown Seattle. I had them deliver directly to me a couple of blocks away. That way, we don’t need to worry about room service or who made the food we’re about to eat. Standard practice for me and other Safeguard operatives on longer engagements. The shorter ones, we just don’t eat or drink anything we didn’t bring with us on the job. There should be a note in there telling us what everything is.”

Kyle wasn’t sure whether to be irritated or complimented. The contents of these bags were enough for more than one meal. “You told them my ethnic background?”

Isabelle shrugged. “I didn’t. But the owner of the catering company experiments with a lot of ethnic cuisine. She knows I’ll eat anything she sends me. No questions asked.”

Interesting. “I’m concerned about this woman having access to my personal information.”

“Not likely.” Isabelle waved a hand. “It’s not our procedure to share those. What probably happened was when she received the order from me via secure email, she contacted Gabriel Diaz to see what happened to the previous order for food that was supposed to last us several days and asked a couple pointed questions to see what else she could send. Was there anything we didn’t like? Do we have access to a microwave? Questions like that.”

“And Gabriel Diaz would’ve let her know about my ethnic background. The coincidence is a little too unlikely.” He didn’t give a shit if Isabelle was starting to get irritated at his line of questioning. They were supposed to be ensuring his safety. Obviously, there’d been issues ever since he’d gone into protective custody. This sharing of information, however benign, came across as unprofessional to him.

Isabelle sighed and stood to face him. “Most likely, she asked what type of food would be appreciated. Most likely Diaz would’ve taken a guess. I can confirm at my next communication checkpoint if necessary. But think on this—last time I headed out on a mission I got some great Brazilian dishes. The first time I met her, she packed us muffuletta sandwiches. She starts with something interesting and branches out from there. What did Maylin send this time?”

His temper cooled as he realized Isabelle still didn’t know what had been sent them for dinner. From her exasperation, and the slight edge to her voice, she was also ready to push back on him for the insinuation that she or her superior at Safeguard might have been anything less than professional.

Reaching out, he flipped the switch to the lights on the wall and ignored her glare. If he was going to eat, he was going to do so in comfort without feeling like he was under observation. The light behind her was more than enough to see by without being too much.

He approached the lower coffee table—they’d need the space to spread out properly—and motioned for her to move her laptop. Her jaw tightened but she did without comment. He started to take out the various dishes.

“Korean food, prepared in a traditional style.” He glanced at Isabelle.

She shrugged. “I haven’t had much Korean food. Not many of my coworkers have historically been as adventurous about food as the Safeguard people are.”

A shame. He was more curious as to whether she simply didn’t care what she ate or she was open to trying a variety of cuisines. He was betting the latter considering her earlier enjoyment of the chocolate beverages. She had a palette, a refined one.

He grunted. “These smaller containers are called
banchan
and are side dishes to accompany a main meal with rice and a soup. There’s a variety, always, and they’re meant to be shared. If we don’t finish them in one sitting, they’re to be put away to be brought out again at the next meal.”

Isabelle’s eyes widened. “There’s a ton of them.”

“Nine here. There’s always many served with a meal.” He pulled out Korean-style chopsticks and a long-handled spoon for each of them and set them out. “She sent
haemul-sundubu-jjigae
as our soup. It’s a sort of spicy soft tofu stew with seafood.”

Isabelle took up a small container of rice and extended her spoon to the
sundubu
, catching up a small amount of broth and sipping experimentally. “It’s good.”

“There are restaurants that serve just the
sundubu
or with a bowl of rice and a plate of fried whole fish. But not with a full accompaniment of
banchan
like this.” He tried one of the
banchan
nearest him. “These
kkwarigochujjim
are very tasty. They’re steamed, seasoned
shishito
peppers.”

Isabelle extended her chopsticks and snagged one. “I’ve had them grilled before in other dishes, not Korean.”

He nodded. “They’re used in other cooking. Not too spicy. Good flavor.”

“What are these? Are they supposed to be cold?” She used her chopsticks to tap the side of a container.

“
Eomuk-bokkeum
. Spicy stir-fried fish cakes.” He raised an eyebrow. “Some people prefer not to know what they are eating before they try it.”

Isabelle seemed unfazed. “I’ll give them a try either way but I’m generally interested in what I’m eating so I can try to remember what to call it if I like it and want to find it again.”

Fair. His anger was slowly leeching away and he had to admit it’d been a long time since he’d enjoyed a meal with someone. Here, in this moment, with the dim lighting and sophisticated decor, he could imagine they were dining in privacy by choice rather than necessity. The sofa was small and as either of them reached for food, shoulders bumped and knees touched.

Every chance contact zinged through the fabric of his clothing to his skin, heightened his awareness of her.

He’d been out to dinner on dates frequently enough, to be sure. But there hadn’t been this element of exploration and discovery in the dinner.

It was pleasant. Something he found himself enjoying despite his continued concern.

“You’re going to confirm that your supervisor did not share my private information with this chef and I appreciate that.” He decided to return to his initial concern and put it to rest so they could enjoy the rest of the meal. “Do you really believe your supervisor simply told her we might enjoy Korean food?”

Isabelle nibbled at a piece of napa cabbage kimchi before answering. “Maylin would’ve felt bad about the earlier food being left behind. She’d have wanted a challenge to make up for us not being able to enjoy it. He probably told her to go for Korean to stretch her skills and give her something she could roll up her sleeves and dive into. He cares about the people around him that way.”

“A good leader does those things.” Kyle could acknowledge the consideration. And it was obvious Isabelle was very loyal to the other man. Considering her fiery personality and independence, Gabriel Diaz must be a man worth following. The kind of person Kyle hoped to be if he survived all of this.

“Yeah.” She paused in her eating, setting her chopsticks down.

Studying her, Kyle deliberately placed a piece of food in her rice bowl. An offering of sorts.

She huffed out a quiet laugh and picked her chopsticks back up. “He is a good leader. Let’s just say leadership is not one of my strong points.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Kyle helped himself to more food. If he was eating, she might be inclined to share more. And he wanted to hear it.

Isabelle shrugged. “When you work with a new team, there’s a key time frame in which you establish yourself, earn their respect, so they will follow your orders. Otherwise, they question, hesitate. And in combat, none of us can afford that split second. Not everyone who meets me gets the best impression.”

And people may have died because of it. It went unsaid, weighing down the silence.

“Anyway, depending on the nature of my assignments in the foreseeable future, proving myself to the people around me continues to be a work in progress.” She deliberately popped a piece of food into her mouth and chewed.

Kyle considered her words. It explained a lot about the way she confronted the men in the elevator lobby. He’d been intrigued but others might have found her attitude grating, intimidating. He wasn’t sure if she altered her approach based on the people she met but perhaps it was as she said, a progression.

“What you’re eating is called
tongbaechu-kimchi
, by the way.” He paused to taste it himself. “Please pass on a message to the chef that her cooking is quite good.”

“Yeah? On par with the restaurant quality you prefer?” Isabelle reached for a dish of soybean sprouts.

“Better.” He used his chopsticks to separate the fillet from the fish and place a portion on his rice. She hadn’t tried for the larger main dish yet. Perhaps she wasn’t familiar with how it was served. “Her food has a home-cooked quality to the dishes that is sometimes lost in restaurants when they substitute for more easily obtainable ingredients here in the United States.”

Isabelle had been watching him. Carefully, she placed her rice container back on the table and copied his motions to acquire her own helping of fish. She didn’t lift her rice back off the table again.

Different cultures ate with different table manners. He appreciated the way she respected his and followed his example. Not many people in his life ever had.

“I’ll let Maylin know.” Isabelle continued to eat.

“The soybean sprouts you tried earlier are
kongnamul-muchim
and these are seasoned dried anchovies or
myeolchi-muchim
.” He indicated a container next to the soybean sprouts. Really, this was an enjoyable meal.

“Crazy range of texture between dishes. Won’t get bored.” She was trying a little bit of everything and she’d gone back to the grilled fish a few times. “Aren’t these the same kind of little fish?”

“Dried anchovies, yes. Those are stir-fried.
Myeolchi-bokkeum
.” He was also amused to note she had no trouble with fish served whole. The larger grilled fish entrée had the fish head and tail intact. The tiny dried anchovies were to be eaten whole. Isabelle had met both without hesitation.

There were a lot of people who’d have balked at any of those.

Isabelle let out a happy sigh. “I’m never going to remember all of these but they are good. Really good. What are these?”

He studied each in turn. “
Kkaennip-jangajji
. Perilla leaf pickles. And those are
ojingeo-bokkeum
. Stir-fried squid. The last one there is
sukjunamul
. Mung bean sprouts.”

“And this is the way every meal is served? Seriously?” She surveyed the table covered in dishes. Even though they’d sampled everything and finished their rice, there was plenty for another meal or two.

“Traditionally, yes.” Kyle eyed the table. “The
banchan
can vary greatly depending on the cook and the region, the local vegetables and the season. Many restaurants I’ve visited here specialize in serving just the entrées or dishes ordered à la carte instead of providing all of this.”

“Hmm.” Isabelle spent time savoring a spoonful of the
sundubu
. It was fairly spicy but she showed all signs of enjoying it. “Maylin’s going to ask so is there anything you wished would’ve been included? And this is probably one style of meal, right? What other meals do you like? Because I’m seriously game to try more Korean food based on this.”

He grinned. “Well, Korean fried chicken and beer are a fantastic meal. The fried chicken is very good quality, with very crispy breading and not nearly as greasy as the fast food I’ve seen in the United States. There’s at least one restaurant chain that I know of in this country that does it well. The flavors can come in soy garlic or spicy here. Very flavorful. And in Korea, you can get several other flavors.”

She blinked. “Fried chicken. That’s a Korean thing?”

“Very Korean.” He smiled. “It’s well-seasoned and tender, never dry. And the chicken is served with pickled radishes. Makes for a great palette cleanser so you can eat more and more.”

“That sounds deliciously dangerous.” Isabelle sat up straight, placing a hand over her belly.

“You don’t look like the type to diet.” He wasn’t against eating healthy but he’d had countless dates where his companion decided to forego the specialty of whatever fine restaurant they’d been eager to try for a generic salad in the name of being on a diet.

Isabelle shrugged. “I’m more a believer in portion control. I want to eat all the things, but my metabolism isn’t magical. I stay active and I try not to overindulge. When you talk about that fried chicken, for example, I’m thinking I’d go for more fried chicken and just a little bit of beer. It’s important caloric intake decision making.”

He chuckled. “Wise.”

“Anything else come to mind?”

He glanced over the dishes again and sighed. “It would have been difficult to manage these two dishes. Both are served in heavy stone or earthenware pots but they are very comforting.”

Isabelle stared. “Stone.”

He nodded. “
Bibimbap
is served in a hot stone bowl. It’s white rice topped with
namul
—sautéed and seasoned vegetables—and various sauces. Like chili pepper paste, or
gochujang
, and
doenjang
, a salty soybean paste. There’s also thin-sliced beef or other meat, marinated, and a raw egg. The stone bowl is so hot, it is literally cooking the rice. The trick to it is that the stone bowl is brushed with sesame oil or similar. When it’s served, you stir the rice to mix up the various things piled on top without scraping the final layer of rice directly against the sides of the bowl. Given a few minutes, you get a crispy crust of fried rice for added texture to your
bibimbap
. Very filling.”