Wanted (FBI Heat Book 3) (4 page)

As he waited for his boss to arrive on Tuesday morning, Dillon paced beside his desk. He’d hardly slept last night after talking to Kat. Despite the lack of his usual enthusiasm, he had run the Carlsbad beach route again, but this time his legs had felt leaden. Not because he was tired, but because his mind kept wandering to thoughts of Kat instead of maintaining its intense focus on the workout.

Finally, Rex stepped off the elevator. Dillon approached him before he could even get to his office. “Boss, can we talk?”

“Made a decision already?” Rex asked.

“No. It…It’s about a…tip I got.”

Rex frowned and jerked his head toward his office. Dillon followed him inside and shut the door. They sat down at the little table by the windows.

“Tell me about this tip,” Rex said, stroking his chin.

“‘Tip’ may be the wrong word.”

His boss raised his eyebrows. “Then just talk to me.”

Dillon gulped. “Last night, I talked to…uh…a…friend of mine who works at the Diablo Beach Nuclear Power Plant.”

“The place up the coast that’s shut down?”

“Yeah. My…um…friend thinks there’s something odd going on.”

Rex rolled his eyes. “What is it with you guys?”

“Huh?”

He exhaled. “Every time you bring up something about a girlfriend, you can’t say her name.”

Dillon stiffened. “Why do you think—”

“It’s a ‘tell.’ Ben does it. You just did it. All you guys do it.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s a…an ex,” he said defensively.

“So?” Rex chuckled. “Ex-girlfriends also qualify for NAS, Name Avoidance Syndrome. Continue, with a name, please.”

“
Katriona MacKenzie
,” he emphasized, “works as a night operator at the plant. She’s been noticing temperature fluctuations in the spent fuel pools. Her boss isn’t taking her concerns seriously.”

Rex straightened in his chair, and his expression turned serious. “Why not?”

“He claims she’s just inexperienced.”

“Is she?”

“No. She used to work at Avila Canyon, which is a fully operating nuclear power plant.”

Rex stroked his chin. “Did she show you evidence of the problem?”

“She doesn’t have any.”

“Has she documented it in any way?”

“I don’t believe so.”

Rex glared at him. “You don’t have shit?”

“No, sir. But Kat wouldn’t have called me if she wasn’t seriously worried.”

The older man studied him. “How ‘ex’?”

“Excuse me?”

“How long ago did you break up and how bad was it?”

Dillon bristled. “I don’t see the relevance—”

“You damn well should. In fact, it should’ve been your first analytical thought. Could this ‘sky is falling’ scenario be payback? It’s a bitch, you know.”

His jaw clenched. “Kat would
never
do something like that.”

“Humor me.”

He narrowed his eyes. His personal life was none of Rex’s goddamn business. But if he wanted to officially pursue Kat’s concerns, he’d have to play along. “
She
broke up with me two years ago. This is the first time we’ve spoken since.” He drew a deep breath. “That’s why I know this is legit, and she’s really scared. Or she would never have called me.”

Rex’s laser-like gaze scrutinized him until Dillon wondered if his boss could read his mind. He struggled to maintain a calm, professional demeanor because he didn’t appreciate the scrutiny.

“For now, we’ll consider these temperature fluctuations to be real, but your first task is to document them.” Rex rubbed the back of his neck. “What’s the worst-case scenario?”

Dillon had an instant answer because the idea had been part of what kept him awake all night. “A catastrophic meltdown.”

“Holy shit. If it’s true, her boss should be screaming for the cavalry.”

“Agreed. That’s part of the problem. Kat doesn’t understand why he isn’t, and that makes her unsure whom she can trust with her information.”

“Does she know how this is happening? Could it be just an equipment malfunction?”

“It could be, but if it were, the fluctuations would show up in the reports. And they don’t. Unfortunately, the best theory points to intentional manipulation.”

Rex’s eyes widened. “Sabotage?”

“Possibly.”

“How?”

“Someone hacking into the computer system.”

“Inside or outside job?”

He shrugged. “No clue.”

“Jesus. We need more intel, some concrete evidence. While you meet with Ms. MacKenzie, I’ll confer with Alan Carter to see if he thinks this scenario sounds like terrorism. He may want to involve the San Diego Joint Terrorism Task Force or the Nuclear Regulatory Commission.” He shook his head. “I have no idea if the NRC deals with this kind of shit or not.”

Dillon squirmed in the chair.
Damn.
Maybe Rex was right about his personal connection to Kat being relevant. “It might be better if I work behind the scenes and let someone else take point on future contacts with Ms. MacKenzie.”

Rex gave him a wise, knowing look, but at least he didn’t say
I told you so
. “Understood. Conrad Regis told me yesterday afternoon that he wants to accept the transfer to Counterterrorism so team up with him.”

“Right.”

“Both of you let me know what cases you need me to reassign so you can give this your highest priority. Now get busy.”

Fifteen minutes later, Dillon and Conrad huddled in a small conference room with their coffee and discussed the Diablo Beach investigation. Bringing his friend and fellow agent up to speed didn’t take long since there was so little to tell.

“While Rex covers the high ground, we’ll get down and dirty in the trenches,” Conrad said when Dillon finished. “Let’s set up a meet with your contact.”

He looked away. “About that. Rex and I decided it’d be best for me to stay in the background.”

Conrad leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. His unblinking blue eyes scrutinized him for a full minute.

“What?” Dillon blurted out in exasperation.

“This ‘friend’ wouldn’t happen to be your ex-fiancée from up north?”

“Shit. Does it matter?”

“Staying in the background isn’t your style, O’Malley, but now I understand.”

“Look, it’s no big deal. Things will just go easier if she doesn’t have to deal with me.”

“Or you with her.” Conrad cocked his head. “She called your cell. She doesn’t know you’ve left the San Francisco office.”

He huffed. “Yes,
she
is Katriona MacKenzie, but you’re wrong. She does know.”

Conrad’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, but she doesn’t know you transferred to San Diego. You’re practically neighbors, and she has no clue.”

Dillon gave him one of his infamous don’t-fuck-with-me glares. “Butt out of my personal life, Regis.”

The other man chuckled. “Lighten up, dude. I’m just messin’ with ya.”

There’s that damn phrase again.
“You lighten up, and get the fuck off my back. Let’s get to work.”

Conrad snickered. “Agreed. Do you want to listen in on the call?”

“Yeah. Put it on speaker.” After drawing a long breath to tamp down his anger, he gave Conrad his ex-fiancée’s number from his iPhone. Kat’s phone rang and went to voicemail. Was she still at work or possibly sleeping? Regardless, they needed to talk to her ASAP. “Try again.”

This time, a woman answered, but she wasn’t Kat. He immediately recognized her mother’s heavy Scottish accent.

“Katriona MacKenzie?” Conrad asked before Dillon could signal it wasn’t her.

“Who’s callin’?” Aileen MacKenzie said brusquely.

Conrad angled a questioning glance at him. Dillon nodded.

“This is FBI Special Agent Conrad Regis.”

A long pause followed.

“What do you want with Katie? Did that bastard Dillon O’Malley put you up to this?”

“No, ma’am. I wouldn’t do anything for that bastard.” Conrad grinned at his buddy. “Ms. MacKenzie has asked…for our help.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Aileen said.

Conrad cleared his throat. “I need to speak to Ms. MacKenzie, please.”

“Well, you can’t. The doctor gave her a sedative, and she’s sleepin’.”

Dillon shot out of his chair and gestured with his hand to keep the woman talking. He leaned over the table, closer to the phone.

“Is Ms. MacKenzie all right?” Conrad asked.

Aileen sighed. “Yes, if you ignore the mild concussion and nasty gash from her head hittin’ the car window. They kept her overnight for observation, just to be sure. We’re hopin’ that when the doctor stops by durin’ rounds this morning, he’ll discharge her.”

What the hell happened?
Dillon’s chest tightened, and his heart pounded. He mouthed the word
hospital
.

“She’s at what hospital?” Conrad asked.

Aileen hesitated. “It’s in San Clemente, but I don’t remember the name. You see, I was terribly upset when I got here. It’s been a really long night.” She sighed as if she hadn’t slept while keeping vigil over her daughter.

“What happened?”

She hesitated again. “Why did you say you’re callin’ her?”

“Problem at work,” Dillon whispered.

“Ms. MacKenzie contacted us about a possible problem at the Diablo Beach Nuclear Power Plant.”

“What problem? She hasn’t said anything to Craig and me.”

“She hasn’t told us much either. That’s why we urgently need to talk to her. How did she get injured?”

His explanation seemed to assuage Aileen’s suspicions and concerns because her tone changed. “Would you believe both of her rear tires blew out just as she was getting off the freeway last night? She thinks she must’ve hit something because she heard two loud noises right before the car went out of control. She’s really lucky the Civic didn’t roll over.”

Dillon’s gut roiled with realization. Conrad’s expression told him they were thinking the same thing.

“Both tires? That’s pretty unusual,” Conrad said.

“Yes. The highway patrol officer told us they searched the area but didn’t find anything suspicious on the roadway so they impounded her car for closer examination. I sure hope Katie’s insurance pays for the damage. She can’t afford an unexpected expense right now.”

“Will she be going home after she’s discharged?”

“I’d rather she come stay with us for a few days, but she already said she’ll sleep better in her own bed. Of course, until she gets back on her feet, Craig and I will take care of…Oh, here’s the doctor now. I’ll tell Katie you called, Agent…uh…”

“Regis. Conrad Regis. Tell Ms. MacKenzie we hope she feels better, and we’ll be in touch soon. Real soon.”

“I really wish you’d stay with us,” Kat’s mother said as she pulled to the curb in front of the Oceanside bungalow late Tuesday morning.

“Mom, I appreciate the offer, but we both know I’ll recuperate faster in the peace and quiet here,” Kat said, opening her eyes. She couldn’t admit it or her mother would make a fuss, but riding in the car had made her nauseous.

She gazed out the windshield at the beautiful day to get her mind off how lousy she felt. Last night’s fog had long ago burned off. Cottony clouds and squawking seagulls decorated the clear sky instead.

“Well, your daughter is goin’ to miss you somethin’ awful,” Aileen said.

“And I’ll miss her twice as much. You and Dad spoil her so rotten that I doubt she’ll even notice I’m not around.”

“She’s our little Scottish angel.”

“Mom, she’s American, like me.”

“Okay, okay, Scottish-American.”

“Not American-Scottish?”

Aileen shot her an annoyed glance. “Heavens no. Scots should always get first billing.”

Kat would’ve laughed if her head didn’t hurt so much. “Thanks again for coming to the hospital. Tell Dad thanks also for taking care of Skye by himself so you could come. I hope she slept well for him.”

Aileen laid a warm hand on Kat’s arm. “Never think you’re in this parenting thing alone. The father of your child may be a total loser, but your dad and I will always be there for you. Now I insist on helping you get settled.”

Why argue? It was a waste of effort to try to dissuade Aileen MacKenzie when she’d set her mind to something. Despite living in the US for decades, she’d not lost a speck of her Scottish stubbornness. In fact, she was quite proud of it. She enjoyed bragging about passing on an abundance of those stubbornness genes to her daughter and granddaughter.

Kat let her mother help her out of the Buick and down the walkway to the front door. Thankful that someone had retrieved her purse from the Civic after the accident, Kat handed the bag to her mother to dig for the keys. All she wanted was a cup of strong hot tea and another long nap.

Aileen ushered her inside to the couch before returning to the car to get Skye’s car seat and other baby related items from the trunk. Thankfully, the CHP had removed all of it before impounding the Civic.

Kat glanced around the small living room, reveling in the familiarity of the cheerful, homey décor and the many framed photos of her daughter. She took a long sniff of the unmistakable scent of a baby-in-residence and let it out slowly, releasing some of the tension from the car accident and an awful night in the hospital. God, it felt great to be home.

As Aileen guided Kat down the hallway to the bedroom, her mother’s cell phone rang. “It’s your father again. He’s more of a mother hen than I am. You get in bed, and I’ll make your tea.” She stopped abruptly in the doorway. “I almost forgot. An FBI agent called your cell this morning while you were sleeping.”

Kat froze with her blouse halfway unbuttoned. “Dillon?”

Her mother’s face darkened with undisguised dislike. “Of course not. That jerk better never contact you.”

Kat swallowed hard. Had she opened Pandora’s box by asking her ex for help? “Who was it, Mom?”

“Let me see.” Her forehead furrowed with concentration. “Oh yes, his name was Conrad Regis.” She frowned. “He said you’d contacted the FBI about a problem at work.” She eyed her daughter with curiosity. “What’s goin’ on at the power plant, Katie?”

“Nothing, Mom.”

“Don’t tell me ‘nothing,’ young lady. Someone—especially you—wouldn’t call the FBI unless there was somethin’ serious goin’ on.”

Well, damn. Good going, O’Malley. The agent you had call me from San Diego spilled the beans to my mother. Now I’ll never hear the end of it.
At least Dillon hadn’t wasted any time in contacting the San Diego office on her behalf. Did it mean he was taking her concerns seriously? Would Special Agent Regis feel the same?

She sighed with relief. Working with someone from the San Diego, instead of the San Francisco, office meant not having to deal with the baggage of her and Dillon’s past relationship. Regis wouldn’t know anything about what had happened two years ago so Kat wouldn’t feel like he was judging her. Hopefully, the guy was as sharp as Dillon and would help her figure out what the hell was going on at Diablo Beach…and why her boss wasn’t worried about it.

“Officer Mark Wilson, I’m FBI Special Agent Dillon O’Malley. I understand you worked an accident last night at the Basilone Road exit off northbound I-5.”

“That’s right. What’s the FBI want to know about it?” Wilson asked with a hint of resentment.

“We’re trying to determine if it has any connection to an ongoing investigation.”

“What’re you investigating?”

Dillon rolled his eyes. He didn’t need the pushback. “I can’t disclose that information at this time, but if we decide the accident is related, we’ll need your cooperation.”

His tone was apparently enough to make the officer rethink his attitude. “The California Highway Patrol is always glad to help the Feds. What do you want to know?”

“Was Ms. MacKenzie able to tell you what happened?”

“She said she was startled by two loud pops and a car zooming by really close just before the Civic’s rear end went ‘bonkers.’ Her word, not mine. She admits she probably overcompensated and that caused her car to almost tip over.”

“I understand both rear tires blew out. That’s unusual unless there’s a spike strip or significant debris on the roadway. Did you find evidence of either?”

“Nope. The road surface was clear.”

“Did you determine another cause?”

The silence stretched on, but Dillon waited.

“Got no proof, but we’re examining the car for evidence the tires were…shot out.”

His jaw clenched, and his stomach concurred. “But you didn’t find any casings or bullets at the scene?”

“Nope. But it was kinda hard to search last night with the fog and all. I’m gonna take another look today.”

“Did you discuss the possibility of gunshots with Ms. MacKenzie?”

“Nope. Didn’t want to scare the nice lady. We’re thinking this might be another one of those goddamn freeway shooters,” Wilson said.

“Understood.”

“Is that why the FBI’s interested?”

He ignored the question. “Who reported the accident?”

“Someone heading to the Diablo Beach power plant. If he hadn’t been delayed by the fog, it might’ve been quite a while before the accident was discovered. The guy said he only stopped because he recognized Ms. MacKenzie’s car. You know she works the night shift at the plant too, right?”

“Yes. Anything suspicious about the other employee?”

“Nope. He’s on their security team. Clean as a whistle, just like Ms. MacKenzie.”

“Did he actually see the tires blow?”

“Nope.”

“Or the car that zoomed past?”

“Nope.”

Frustration built up like steam in a pressure cooker. “Was the victim able to give any identifying information about that vehicle?”

“Only that it was large and dark. Thought it was a sedan.”

“Well, that narrows it down.”

The officer chuckled. “Especially on our freeways. Sorry I don’t have more to tell ya, Agent O’Malley, but Ms. MacKenzie was pretty shook up after being knocked unconscious. She kept babbling something about the sky.”

“The sky or the fog? She might’ve thought the fog contributed to the…accident.”

“Definitely the sky. She said it several times. Also, it happened so fast, she didn’t get a good sense of any of it. I’m hoping she remembers more after she’s had time to think about it awhile. Would you like to talk to her directly?”

Dillon gulped. “Thanks. I don’t think that’ll be necessary. But let me know the results of the car exam.” He gave the officer his contact information before disconnecting.

There was no obvious connection between Kat’s accident and her concerns about Diablo Beach, but Dillon’s gut told him there was one. In fact, his body was screaming lots of things, most of which he needed to disregard. Even worse, his Y chromosome kept sending him all kinds of conflicting signals. Those he definitely had to ignore.

One thing he couldn’t ignore or disregard. One point was front and center. What had happened was no accident. Someone had tried to intimidate Kat, injure her…or worse.

Kat tried hard to sleep, but images from the accident kept flashing through her mind. Something floated at the edge of her memory, but it remained hidden in the fog like the car that had sped past her last night. Surely, the driver had heard the same loud noises. Wouldn’t he have looked in his mirrors to see what caused them and seen her car careening off the road? So why hadn’t he stopped?

A chill tiptoed like icy fingers up her spine, and she shuddered. Had that car been the source of the sounds? Had they been the engine backfiring? Twice in rapid succession. Did cars even have that problem these days? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard anyone mention a car backfiring.

She closed her eyes again. The large dark sedan loomed beside her small white Civic. Had she glanced to the left or had she spotted it only in her peripheral vision? She couldn’t recall actually seeing anyone inside or even the glow of the dashboard lighting. Just a black blur racing past. She cringed at the intimidating image.

Her cell phone put an end to her attempt to sleep, but she answered without lifting her head from the pillow anyway.

“Hey, Kat. How are you feeling?” Charlie Lee asked.

She smiled.
Good ole Charlie. Always there for me.
“Lousy. My head feels like it’s going to explode. Before I forget, please thank Simon Clarke for me. I’m just so grateful he stopped when he saw my car.”

“Will do. But he already told me that you thanked him before the ambulance carted you away. He says it’s no big deal. Anyone would’ve done the same.”

“Not really. The driver who was there when it happened didn’t bother to stop.”

“Crap. I didn’t hear there was another car involved. What an asshole.”

“My thought exactly.”

“Speaking of assholes, Farook was in rare form last night.”

“I can only imagine. He was so pissed you would’ve thought I had the accident on purpose.”

“He’s a jerk. Don’t worry about it. When will you be back?” Charlie asked.

“In a week, hopefully.”

“Well, you take care. Call me if I can do anything.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

After disconnecting, Kat crawled out of bed to fix herself another cup of tea. Sitting at the tiny table in the kitchen, she cradled her head in her hands. As she’d told Charlie, her boss had hardly been understanding when she’d called him from the ER. He’d complained that he would have to cover for her in the control room since it was too late to call in another operator. This morning, after the doctor ordered her to stay home for a week, she’d left a message for Farook. The man hadn’t bothered to call her back yet.

Asad Farook had disliked her from the day she started at Diablo Beach. She couldn’t figure out what she’d done to earn his disdain, and he made no effort to disguise his animosity. It had really been no big surprise when he dismissed her concerns about the temperature fluctuations as if she were a newbie operator. How would he react if he learned she’d contacted the FBI? He’d erupt, for sure.

She sighed. He’d already given her negative job performance reviews, which virtually guaranteed she wouldn’t get a raise this year, a raise she needed. Honestly, she feared for her job.

And now this. Her boss would find some way to use this situation against her.

She looked down at the paper where her mother had written the name of the FBI agent who’d called. Maybe she should contact Special Agent Conrad Regis. If there was a chance Farook would fire her, she needed to work quickly to get someone looking into the problem. If it wasn’t an equipment malfunction or computer error, it could well be sabotage. The questions of who and why boggled her mind.

She gingerly touched the bandage on her left temple. Thankfully, she hadn’t needed stitches. Although the gash stung, the internal pounding was what scattered her thoughts and destroyed her concentration. Perhaps waiting a few more hours for Special Agent Regis to contact her was the best idea.

Disappointment swelled inside, bringing tears to her eyes. Who the hell was she trying to kid? Pissed at herself, she slammed her fist on the table. She had wanted Dillon to help her, but he obviously didn’t want to. Instead, he’d eagerly passed off the information to some poor schmuck in the San Diego office so he wouldn’t have to deal with Kat himself.

She wrapped her arms around her middle and hugged. Tears spilled over. She was a strong, capable woman, but oh, how she missed the reassuring strength of Dillon’s arms and presence, his physical and emotional support. He had always made her feel safe and protected. Even when she did stupid stuff, he’d always had her back.

Dillon had loved her with all his heart. And what had Kat done?

She’d broken it.