Brutal Obsession (The Safeguard Series, Book One) (17 page)

Ashlyn knew her stalker, just as Garner had known his killer. It was someone they were used to being around and had no problem turning their back on them.

The knock that came at the door was expected, but Keane still withdrew his weapon as he verified who wanted entrance via the video feed. In addition to verifying the image on the screen, he pulled back the thin curtain on the right side sidelight of the door and made sure no was behind Coen Flynn—who matched his photo exactly—standing alone on the welcome mat dressed in a pair of jeans, a grey shirt, and a baseball cap worn backwards. Nothing flashy. Nothing very memorable in this middle class neighborhood.

Keane removed the barricade bar from its notch on the door, pulled it out of the metal insert on the floor, and stowed it in the corner. He then unlocked the deadbolt, including the lock on the doorknob, and turned the silver handle. He stepped aside without a word and waited for his new team member to enter. According to the details Brody had provided, Coen was six months straight out of the United States Marine Corps and fresh back from his third overseas tour in Afghanistan. Those intervening six months he’d worked as a private security contractor protecting high value targets from kidnapping threats.

According to his short bio, Coen had grown up in Arizona, leaving behind his parents and a younger brother who he had stayed in contact with regularly. His specialty was close combat and urban assault tactics. Most of his time in the Stan had been spent routing out insurgents who had lived in tribal enclaves in a multitude of villages surrounding Kandahar. Calvert had chosen his team well, covering all the bases while ensuring they all had done a protection detail of some sort during their tours or subsequent to their service.

“It’s good to meet you,” Keane said, shaking Coen’s hand after securing the door behind him, including locking the bar into place with a heavy metal click. “I’m sure Calvert didn’t expect you would be on this assignment so quick, but what should have been a simple case just blew up in our faces. This guy has considerable experience doing electronic surveillance.”

“Brody’s told me a lot about the details of the case.” Coen’s dark gaze slowly took in the layout of the house, only stopping when he saw Ashlyn sleeping on the couch. She hadn’t stirred once in the last hour, telling Keane this was the first time she’d allowed her body to really rest. “He wanted me to let you know he’s also ordered you some khaki shorts, whatever the hell that means.”

Keane wasn’t about to get into the fact that Brody hated his sense of fashion, saving it for another time. He motioned they should head into the kitchen, not wanting to wake Ashlyn. She needed what rest she could get.

“We’ve rented the apartment over the garage next door,” Coen said as he leaned against the far counter, placing the bag he’d carried in next to the toaster. He adjusted his cap, lifting it enough to show the length of his black hair. It was long enough to signify he hadn’t cut it for a few months. “Sawyer is setting up the equipment and we have a clear view of the front, along with the approach up and down the street in either direction. We’ll have to make perimeter checks of the backyard, seeing as the proximity of the surrounding houses and the construction being very similar tends to obscure our view of the backside of the property. The number of privacy fences in the neighbors’ backyards have created dead zones that prevent us from a clear assessment, except when directly patrolling those areas. So stay clear of the backyard as a general rule.”

“Has Coulter approved SSI’s involvement in the investigation?” Keane asked, already knowing the answer. Brody had been in close contact with him, but things could change on a dime. “Stalking a federal prosecutor and hacking into her personal network is one thing. The murder of Chief Jarod Garner? This puts the case into a whole other ballgame and the press coverage is now in full force. The feds are going to need all the help they can get.”

“Which is why Coulter’s superiors are maintaining centralized control of the case. To be quite honest, we’d have to be idiots to want to participate in investigating at this point. They’ll be looking to find someone to blame for the Bureau’s failures thus far. An independent firm might just suit their purposes,” Coen warned, resting the palms of his hands on the counter behind him. “This is going to turn into a nationwide manhunt because of the bloodshed this guy has left behind. The media isn’t going to let this go and Ashlyn Ellis’ life is going to be dissected on the six o’clock news for all to see. We follow protocol, keep the primary safe, and wait this out. The perpetrator will screw himself up somehow, sooner or later.”

Keane didn’t reply right away, quelling his instinct to do something other than sit around. He hadn’t realized the transition of occupations would be this much of a struggle. Ashlyn had thought it was perfectly okay for her to walk into an office he’d yet to clear for her security, but she’d opened the door before he could stop her. He’d followed close behind and had recognized the sour odor of death right away, as had she.

The look on Ashlyn’s face would stay with him forever…the disbelief, the horror, the disgust, and the self-incrimination. He’d still yet to talk to her in-depth about what had happened back at the office. The majority of the morning had been spent going over statements with Coulter and then allowing Ashlyn to speak with Bishop Vance regarding the transfer of the Glasson case.

Every single person in the U.S. Attorney’s Building was shaken by what had occurred and Ruth had needed medical assistance when she’d gone into a full-blown panic attack, having missed any clues of the murder of her boss. Pilates could only get you so far.

“I figure you might want something to do in your spare time, though,” Coen said, pulling out papers that had been folded vertically so they would fit into his back pocket. He tossed them just right, so that the bulk of the thickness hit the kitchen table. Keane pulled out a chair and took a seat, reaching for whatever gift Coen was offering. “That’s the list of names of those who were in and out of the building during the elapsed time since Garner had arrived and the discovery of his body. Apparently, the feds have video footage of him arriving in the underground parking garage around zero four hundred. Not even his assistant could give a reason why he would have been at the office at that time.”

“Where did you get this?” Keane asked, looking over the catalog of names. The building was large and thus a rather high count of employees. Several names were highlighted and he recognized the reason why.

“Let’s say I have a friend in the Bureau who owes me a favor or two,” Coen replied, not revealing his sources. Brody had mentioned that Coen had quite a few contacts in the city and Keane was starting to realize just how far those contacts went up the ladder. “Victor Wright is currently Coulter’s prime suspect. He’s being questioned and has already retained a lawyer, although claiming his innocence the whole way.”

“I can see why they would automatically make that assessment, but how did Wright gain access to Ashlyn’s apartment?” Keane continued to go down the list of names, recognizing that Aiden Younger was included. That couldn’t be right. He looked up to find Coen staring at the arched entryway from the living room. “Ashlyn, we didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s okay,” Ashlyn replied, looking a little worse for wear. She was in the same clothes as last night, her hair still pulled back at the nape of her neck, and she had absolutely no color in those high cheekbones of hers. She was still downright beautiful and Keane had never met another woman who could come close to compare. Her blue eyes were shifting between the paper in his hand and Coen. “And you are?”

Keane rose from the table and caught the raised eyebrow Coen had given in response to Ashlyn’s inquiry. She was standing tall and doing her best to maintain the professional manner perfected over time and many accomplishments. She had a heart of gold and an attitude of steel. It was an intriguing combination that had caught his attention five years ago and still had the ability to amaze him today.

“Coen Flynn—recent acquisition of SSI,” Coen said, introducing himself while stepping forward with an extended arm. “I’m part of your perimeter security team, as well as a hulk by the name of Sawyer Madison. We’re here should anything or anyone attempt to put your life in danger or spoil your solitude.”

Ashlyn’s life
was
in danger, but those employees of SSI could mitigate the degree. She reached out and shook Coen’s hand, a tentative smile replacing the stern expression she’d walked into the kitchen with.

“You were talking about Victor,” Ashlyn pointed out, reaching for the paper in Keane’s hand. He relinquished it, not willing to keep her in the dark. She had every right to know who would have had an opportunity to kill Jarod Garner. “He didn’t do this. He doesn’t have it in him. He didn’t stalk me and he certainly didn’t commit murder.”

Ashlyn read through the names as she slowly turned and walked back into the living room. Both Keane and Coen followed her, hoping she would see something that would give Coulter a leg up. It was doubtful, but anything was possible. She reached into the leather case she’d brought with her and pulled out her pen, immediately sitting down on the couch and crossing off names. Having a purpose had given Ashlyn some color back.

“The people I’m crossing off the list are females,” Ashlyn explained, glancing up for confirmation. “Didn’t Agent Coulter say the profile he was using was of a white male in his thirties? We should be able to narrow the list down to a handful of men whom fit that description. As for Victor, he’s in his forties and I’m sure there is no proof he was in my apartment building last night.”

“Profiles are loosely based on the facts provided in that case,” Keane warned, not wanting Ashlyn to get ahead of herself. She understood quite well how profiling worked, but she didn’t want to heed her own advice. “He could be a she that sees herself as a dominant in a relationship. Ages can be off by a few years in either direction based on maturity and not physical age…but the one thing that can’t change is this individual’s knowledge in everything and anything to do with technology. You understand why Coulter would single out Victor.”

“Then why not Paul?” Ashlyn offered up another scapegoat in her attempt at convincing herself Victor could not be the culprit. She tapped her pen to the paper. “There’s also Ben, Craig, and Ryan who are in the same department with the same extensive skillset. They were all there at that hour, most likely working on the Haung case.”

“I’m sure Agent Coulter will contact Townes Calvert, per our protocol, and give us updates on the interrogations he’s conducting,” Coen said in order to appease Ashlyn’s doubts, setting down the black duffel bag he’d grabbed off the kitchen counter. “In the meantime, I brought a couple weapons, ammo, and a few additional pieces of security surveillance equipment I’d like to set up at the back of the property.”

Keane reached for the Px4 Storm chambered in .40 caliber Smith & Wesson, weighing the firearm in his hand. It was similar to the 92 FS model Berretta she kept in her room, with a bit more punch, and would make her at ease should she need to use it. Coen also handed him a Sig Sauer P220 Elite, for which Keane would use as a backup. He took the four extra magazines of 230 grain hydra-shock rounds as well.

Ashlyn had been staring at Coen with curiosity and Keane admitted to a stab of jealously, even though he wasn’t remotely entitled to such an emotion when it came to her. It wasn’t until she spoke up that she unknowingly alleviated the uncomfortable position he found himself in.

So much had happened within the last thirty-six hours that Keane hadn’t had time to dwell on them or their past. It was always simmering underneath the surface, from when he would catch Ashlyn studying him, when they touched innocently, or when either one of them brought up the past. He’d known the moment he’d set eyes on her that they had never truly finished what they’d started five years ago.

“I know you from somewhere,” Ashlyn exclaimed in a strange, somewhat crazy kind of puzzlement. The arched brows above her blue eyes came down as she struggled to recall where to place Coen’s face. Keane looked between the two, curious now as to where she would have known Flynn, especially considering that he’d just come back from a personal security contract in Mexico City. “Your brother—”

“Is home in Arizona and staying out of trouble now,” Coen replied with a hardened tone, picking up the black duffel bag with a small degree of agitation. He adjusted his ball cap once more, this time so the bill faced the front and shadowed his face. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head out back and set up this gear while the neighbors are still at work.”

Keane didn’t know his new team members that well, but everyone had the right to their own privacy. He had nothing to hide, but he sure as hell didn’t want his personal business to be fodder for the gossip mill once they all got back to Florida. Whatever had happened to Coen’s brother was enough to cause him some measure of discomfort and could only lead to dissention among the small group of operators. That’s the last thing they needed to happen between the team members on this case.

“I didn’t mean to upset him,” Ashlyn said as she watched Coen disappear from view. Her vexed blue eyes returned to Keane. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t want to know,” Keane corrected her before taking the piece of paper out of her hand. “I don’t know Coen all that well, but men in general don’t want their family secrets to follow them wherever they go. This job might be Coen’s way to wipe the slate clean. Regardless, Calvert has vouched for him and that is all I need to know to place my life in his hands.”

Ashlyn nodded her agreement and then shook her head slightly as if to clear it from any disruptions or further distractions. She still appeared exhausted, but her mind was evidently spinning enough that she wouldn’t be able to close her eyes for a while.

“Why don’t we get some coffee and then go over this list in detail?” Keane suggested, holding out his hand for her to take. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to do so, but he was finding it very hard not to cross that line that separated professionalism from becoming too personal with Ashlyn. “Maybe we can find something to help Special Agent Coulter since you’re so sure Victor isn’t behind this mess.”