Tracking Shadows (Shadows of Justice 4) (17 page)

BOOK: Tracking Shadows (Shadows of Justice 4)
11.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

"Mmm." As if she'd dignify that rumor with any sort of contradiction.

"Do you need a tour?"

She wanted one, but was afraid to push his patience too far.

"Of the apartment, I mean."

"Oh. Sure."

April babbled on about guest suites and facilities as she opened storage cabinets and explained the entertainment system. Trina just listened. "Bedroom's through there," April finished, pointing down a short hallway. "And I'll, um, just get going."

"Okay." Trina wondered how April could bubble over in one minute and be absolutely still, like now, in the next. "Thanks."

The girl rushed to the door, then hesitated and turned back. "This is really a great place to be.
Like having a family."

The party line, Trina thought, but she smiled. "Thanks for the tour."

"Ah." April stood a little straighter. "What exactly did you do to me?"

"Oh."
Crap
. Trina pushed her hair behind her ear and tried to think of how to explain it. "Well, I, umm."

"It hurt at first."

And Trina didn't have any good explanation for that. "Sorry." But suddenly, 'sorry' wasn't enough. She heard the brutal honesty spill out of her mouth. "Look, I used you. Made you see what you needed to see to open the door for me. It's hard to explain. Being so abrupt with you is why it hurt. Sorry," she finished lamely.

"You have some history or business or whatever with
Micky."

Trina only shrugged.

"It's obvious. And you can take care of yourself. Why'd you let me believe otherwise on the el that night?"

Trina didn't
do
the friend thing like this. Friendships meant sharing. While April was nice enough, there was no way Trina could stay around and risk decent people finding out about her killer career.

"You don't have to say it. I figured out you were using me to get in here."

Was the girl tearing up?

"It's okay. I'm the last of Sis' hires and everyone says I'm too naïve to be here anyway." She blinked in a flurry. Even as tears spiked her lashes, her chin
tilted, a sure sign of determination. "They're wrong. Sis said I have good intuition. Whatever you're up to, I don't think you mean to hurt Micky or us. He's decent no matter what anyone says and running this place and business his way is a whole lot better than a lot of us deserve."

Trina just stared, speechless.

April turned and walked out, pulling the door shut behind her.

Trina slowly counted to ten. Carefully, she tested the door, amazed she wasn't locked in. The guilt of who she was and what she'd done to April bubbled up, pushing for an outlet. One weak seam and her emotions would explode. First a deep breath, then another, and one more until she felt the foreign sensation subside. If only she had the psychic ability to locate people, she could find
Micky, take action, and leave.

Except she was no longer so certain what kind of action she would take if given the chance.

Leaving the debate for later, she went into the galley kitchen and helped herself to a bottle of water from the fridge. Wishing for something much stronger, she drained half of it as she mentally sorted the pros and cons of her situation. Too weary to tally the final score she headed for the bedroom.

"Oh, Lord." The furnishings were as plush here as out front, but it was the sight of her empty luggage that caused the cold knot of panic in her gut.

Her clothes were hanging in the closet and tucked into drawers. Her computer sat on a table near a reading chair waiting to be put to use.

Anything, anytime, anywhere
, echoed in her mind.

He'd called it rumor. Said he used the rumors. Looking at the complete inventory of her life on the road, she wasn't buying
that
line anymore. This was more than rumor. She rubbed her arms against the chill of exposure. He'd found and collected her things with the efficiency of a man who knew everything about her. A man with a very long reach.

Too unsettled to take an inventory, Trina turned her back on the bedroom in favor of the couch and oblivion of television.

Chapter Seventeen

 

"Nothing out of the ordinary, sir." Keegan reported via holo-conference from the storage center office.

Micky
heard the rasp of Mary's nail file in the background. The only computer with the required equipment was there at the front counter, but it didn't matter. The kid didn't need to hide anything but his smuggler's identity from Mary.

The kid looked steady enough, which wasn't a big surprise considering Jim was a fine recruiter and trained his personnel to exacting standards.
"All right. Don't let Mary give you a hard time."

"Heard that," Mary drawled from somewhere outside the camera's range, but Keegan only rolled his eyes.

"Ben will be out tomorrow. Check in at the scheduled times."

Keegan acknowledged the reminder with a nod before the picture dissolved.

Micky turned to Ben and Jim. Sitting across his desk, they wore matching unhappy expressions. He raised a hand just as Jim opened his mouth. He had a plan and wanted to paint the picture before Jim ran off at the mouth about Trina and risks and inevitable consequences.

"You can handle the repairs up there right, Ben?" Ben nodded. "Good. We can't leave the place jerry-rigged forever."

Jim opened his mouth, but Micky cut him off. "It's time to get on top of this issue, Jim. We can't keep the girls cooped up and I refuse to become a recluse. If Ben's at the storage unit handling repairs, he can socialize and help Darlene with the recon. Yes," he plowed on over Jim's automatic protest. "Darlene and her cat are going back home too. They just got caught in the crossfire."

"Meaning?"

Micky studied Ben, the kid's trusting nature was giving way to a smarter, more useful world wisdom. "I've been studying the report and this whole thing from a new angle. At first I was sure the tainted packing material was sabotage, now I'm not so convinced that shipment was intended for me. But it's only a matter of time before it will be."

Jim leaned back in the chair. "You think there's a traitor in the warehouse."

"At least using someone in the warehouse." Micky nodded, catching Ben's panicked look. "I know it's not you. Whoever is behind this knew me way back, but that's beside the point. Let me walk you through my theory."

He cued up the news report about a labor dispute in Canada scheduled to resolve much sooner than originally anticipated.

"So?"

Micky
smiled at Jim's expected reaction. "They import shipping material from this side of the border. A company up around Gary, actually. Again, that's not the real point. Chloe is the real point. Notice anything different about her lately?"

Ben and Jim frowned at each other. "She's been mellow since that whole thing in the cigarette room."

"Exactly. Mellow and agreeable." The guys nodded and Micky continued. "The workers who went on strike got agreeable too."

"You think whatever this new drug is got used to subdue a labor dispute." Jim shook his head. "You
gotta be way off. Connecting dots that aren't even there."

"Nah.
I'm right." He pointed to the report on his monitor. "Look, some of the workers – only those with previous lung troubles – got really sick recently. Others just got agreeable.

"Now, Chloe."
He switched to the warehouse sign-in log. "She's got a pot habit, we all know it," he added for Ben's benefit. "But her trips in and out have doubled, even though we're not distributing at the moment."

Jim sat forward. "Want me to tail her?"

"Not just yet. I like this mellow version of the girl." Micky turned off the monitors. "Whatever it's called on the street, it improves the high and increases the dependency.

"Her blood work showed she only took enough of a hit off the cigarette packing material to get happy, while I got nailed because my lungs couldn't handle the chemical boost someone's been putting in her pot."

"You think she's the Trojan horse."

"It's possible. Chloe makes no secret of working for the best smuggler in Chicago, but the timing doesn't line up completely."

"But how did the packing material get used for your cigarette shipment?"

Micky
turned to Ben. "That brings me to part two of your assignment up by the docks. When you're not repairing or socializing on the strip, I want you to get in with the ferrymen who delivered to us. I'm ordering another shipment and I'll let you know when it's due."

"We won't need cigarettes for months."

Micky acknowledged Jim's grumbling with a shrug. "Consider it an investment. I always stock up when the price is down. It's not like the market's going anywhere. What I'm looking for Ben," he turned to the younger man again, "is confirmation this packing material thing was an accident."

"Oh." Ben's eyes went wide. "You think they skimmed the material from a different delivery."

"It's only smart to look at every angle. I'm hoping by working backward we can figure out how the packing material got contaminated with this new drug.

"Jim I want your team to break down the company ownership and dig deep enough to find out who has what kind of access to the packing material plant up in Gary."

"Fair enough, boss."

Sending Ben on his way, he asked Jim to stay. "What's the update on that video virus thing?"

"Not much new. Kyle got the system scrubbed and did something that will alert us if another attempt is made. The corrupted data hasn't managed to magically fix itself."

Micky
had already written off those hours. "No surprise. But we're back online over the whole place?"

Jim nodded.

"Great." It made a difference in how and where he'd be using the stealth suit. "Thanks."

"Boss?"

Micky braced for the worst. Jim's expression was grim. "Can I turn on the feed in the guest room?"

"Absolutely not."
Micky shook his head. Trina should have that much privacy.

"She's not like the others and you know it," Jim protested. "I'll ghost her computer then."

"No. She gets the same courtesy we've shown other guests here."

Jim's shoulders rolled back and his jaw set. Despite his obvious disagreement they both knew he'd follow orders. "What if she tries to make a break for it?"

"Tail her. I'm not as blind to her as you think." He waved off Jim's protests. "I'm not offended by your concern, either."

"You're entitled to your privacy, boss, but I'd appreciate it if there's something I should know. For the good of everyone," he clarified.

Micky knew he had to give Jim something. The man knew him too well and he truly cared about everyone in their makeshift family. One more example he wished Trina could see, so she'd understand he wasn't the most wanted smuggler in Chicago for the wrong reasons.

"Trina Durham is – was – an old friend. We go back to before I became Slick
Micky." He sighed. "What she is now, well, I'm not sure yet. But relax. I won't let her be my downfall."

Jim nodded and left the office, but
Micky knew those sketchy details weren't nearly enough for his head of security to ease up. And that was fine. Micky hadn't climbed to the top or stayed on top by working alone.

He returned to his desk and his planning, trying not to entertain any ideas of what Trina was up to in the guest suite. Or who might have hired her to cause him trouble.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, the girls rejoiced with an exuberant cheer when
Micky announced they could start back on their normal routes. With a meaningful eye for April, he extended the moratorium on new recruits and new customers, but no one offered more than the obligatory grumbling.

"Will Jaden be giving more classes soon?"

Micky hardly recognized Chloe's voice without the caustic edge. He paused, thinking about it. Jaden was a good influence around here. Smart, savvy, and determined to empower as many women as possible. He'd convinced
her
he wasn't a monster. Maybe she could help him convince Trina. "I'll see what I can do. Anyone who wants to help me barter, let me know." With that, he was ready to wrap up the briefing, when Marion slowly raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"We, ah." She swallowed and smiled. "We have planned a memorial for Sis."

So they'd done it without him. He wasn't sorry they'd taken the initiative, only slightly ashamed he'd never mustered the courage. "When and where?"

"The gym. Eight o'clock tonight. With your permission."

Micky
nodded, choking on the lump in his throat. After repeating the announcement for the room, he dismissed them.

He barely resisted the urge to run. Or scream. It was simple common sense to let them say goodbye to a woman who'd helped so many of them improve themselves and their prospects.

"Marion?" She turned, her cheeks going pink. "You've made fine plans I'm sure. Did you invite anyone outside of our warehouse?"

"No, sir.
Not with the lock down."

"That's good. Thank you."

"Would you say a few words? Please?"

Oh, Jesus. The one question he'd hoped to avoid. He started to shake his head, but her steady gaze, complete with a hefty dose of pity glimmering in her eyes had him nodding affirmatively, if slowly.

She patted his arm. "You'll feel better and so will the rest of us once we've said a formal good bye."

"Closure?"

Marion nodded.

"Right."
He cleared his throat and stepped away from the kindness of her touch. "Guess I'll go think up something appropriate."

Her smile held too much sympathy to give him the comfort she surely intended. "Be careful out there today." Never mind that Marion didn't venture 'out there'. Frustrated and confused by the sudden memories of Sis, he retreated to his office to regain his composure.

He turned the corner and watched his day go from bad to worse. Trina paced the width of the hallway, clearly agitated about something.

Damn. He'd had a plan that started with the morning meeting, included several hours out on the streets in the stealth suit, and ended with a private dinner with Trina. Of course that last bit was simply a pipe dream, but that didn't mean he wouldn't take advantage if opportunity presented itself. Maybe something with crystal and candles...or maybe a beer at the party someone was probably planning for after the memorial. He put a damper on his personal issues and strolled forward into the unknown.

"Oh." She stopped short and wouldn't quite meet his eyes. "Hi, Jo– I mean Micky. Good morning."

"Is it?" He shook his head when her expression hardened. "Forget that. I don't mean to argue, I just got some weird news. Is your room okay?"

"Yeah. It's fine. Do you have a minute?"

"For what?"

"To talk."

He was afraid to hope she might want to talk about her real business in Chicago. "I've got a few minutes."
Micky applied his thumb to the pad above the door lock and stepped back to let her enter first.

"Why aren't all your doors controlled by biometrics?"

He cocked an eyebrow and refused to answer. Did she think he'd lost IQ points plus half his face in the explosion? More likely she believed the rumors that he indulged in the hard drugs he pushed since she didn't seem inclined to believe he wouldn't even push the hard stuff.

"You look agitated," he said because it was true. "Are my security measures that upsetting?"

"No. Of course not."

"Have you had breakfast?"

She nodded. "You probably know April brought it to me."

Actually, he didn't, but he was sure Jim or someone else did. "Would you like coffee?" It was his stock in trade after all.

"No, thanks. I prefer tea."

He grabbed his chest and acted out a minor death scene, grinning as he straightened up. "Don't let the girls know, they'll set out to convert you."

Her eyes were wide, and the freckles dusting her nose stood out against her suddenly pale face. He was either a bad actor or something else was eating her up. "Trina?"

She cleared her throat in that nervous little habit he remembered. "You brought my things here."

He nodded, waiting.

"How did you find out where I was staying?"

"You gave the information to Mary."

"No. I didn't. I gave her an address for billing."

"True," he admitted. "But you know there aren't that many motels up around the strip. Mary had

your
alias and we just used it to track you down."

Her defeated sigh didn't make a lot of sense. She was smart, smart enough to kidnap his people and rig the terms of the exchange to her favor. He hoped he was prepared for whatever scam she intended to attempt today.

"You go to extensive lengths to protect your little commune here." He bristled at the jibe, but she continued. "I'm thinking you didn't bother with the equivalent consideration for my safety."

BOOK: Tracking Shadows (Shadows of Justice 4)
11.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Reluctant Cowboy by Ullman, Cherie
In the Presence of My Enemies by Stephen A. Fender
Deliver Me From Evil by Mary Monroe
Starstruck (Fusion #1) by Quinn, Adalynn
Gather Ye Rosebuds by Joan Smith
The Woman at the Window by Emyr Humphreys
Bear Lake by A B Lee, M L Briers