The Man from Nowhere Page 12

  Trish had to laugh. “That’s a priceless image.”

  “Well, I’m away so much they consider me a mere appendage to their lives.”

  Coffee poured, they sat facing each other at the table.

  “Okay,” Lori said. “Gage asked me to come over and fill you in.”

  “Oh. I thought he’d call or drop by.”

  Lori shook her head. “He wants this totally under wraps. Seems to feel it might cause you some trouble if he’s seen around here too much.”

  Trish nodded slowly. “I suppose it could. I don’t know.”

  The other woman shrugged. “Gage knows what he’s doing. So here’s the deal. My partner and I have come to town to visit the Callahans next door. Not really, but that’s the cover. Believe it or not, I’m actually related to Moira.”

  “Really?”

  “Second cousins thrice removed or some such Conard County thing. We were close as kids, moved apart, but we’ve met a few times at family reunions and stuff, so Moira was glad to have me visit, along with my partner, who is passing as my boyfriend.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’re actually cops in Laramie. And we’re here, as I understand it, because somebody might want to kill you.”

  “That seems to be a distinct possibility.”

  Lori nodded, her expression serious. “I was told we’re to avoid doing anything that might scare the guy off for all those reasons that cops both hate and love.”

  Trish nodded reluctantly, queasiness filling her. “I’m bait. I have to be or I might never be safe.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much what Gage said, and I can tell you he’s no more thrilled about this than we are. I suggested doubling for you in the house and hiding you somewhere else.”

  “No!” Trish was surprised at the vehemence of her own response. Scared as she was, she also felt the danger. “If we make any changes…We can’t do that. Trust me. I’m already worried that we might do something that’ll mess this up.” She shook her head. “Just call it a major hunch.”

  Lori sighed. “That’s pretty much what Gage said. Regardless, we’re going to be watching over you as best we can, given the restrictions of needing to catch this guy in the act.”

  “At least in the act of entering my house.”

  “Yep. And if that’s the only way we can make you safe, that’s what we’re going to do. Anyway, Gage called us in because nobody in town knows we’re cops, and apparently he doesn’t want that hitting the rumor mill.”

  “That could create a problem, all right.”

  “So I just want you to know, my partner and I will be right next door watching. And I think Gage is looking for a couple of other people he can insert without generating comment. Regardless, you’ll have two of us watching every minute.”

  “Thank you.” Trish felt a sting in her eyes. “I can’t tell you how much that means.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Lori said. She leaned forward so she could pat Trish’s hand gently. “Gage said he has reason to believe that the dangerous time will be between midnight and two, but we’ll take turns watching round the clock, anyway. And with the dog, we’ll be alerted by any serious barking.”

  Trish glanced down to find Tad chewing on his tennis ball. “He’s only barked once before.”

  “Wow. How long have you had him?”

  “Just a few days.”

  “Maybe he’s just settling in, then. Some dogs don’t bother to bark much. Others…well, you wish they’d shut up.”

  Trish managed a smile. “It’s great just knowing you’re there.”

  “Thanks. Anyway, I’ll just finish this coffee and get back to raking leaves. They don’t rake themselves, and it’s a good excuse to be outside…in the sunshine.”

  But Trish knew Lori didn’t want to be outside for the sunshine, however cheerfully she might say it. At least four people now believed someone was trying to kill her.

  Five, including herself.

  Chapter 9

  Grant should have felt more relaxed when he awoke. Gage Dalton seemed like a good guy, and more than that, a good cop. Trish had called earlier, interrupting a dream he’d thought important at the time and now could not remember, to say Gage had brought in a couple of Laramie cops undercover to watch her. That was good news.

  And at least now Dex knew Grant was alive. Grant wasn’t yet ready to deal with how that felt. Hearing Dex say, “So when are you coming back, G?” as if Grant hadn’t left without as much as a goodbye. As if he hadn’t tried to sell out of the company. As if he hadn’t left his best friends to wonder if he’d been swallowed by the earth itself, or worse.

  No questions. No recriminations. Just, “So when are you coming back, G?”

  He looked at the faint print in the wallpaper, a trellised pattern so subtle he had to lean close to be sure it was even there, and wondered how much of life was exactly like that: patterns engraved in our existence that we don’t even notice. We look right past them, he thought, willfully blind both to risk and opportunity, to trap and treasure.

  Oh sure, he knew he liked Dex and the other guys. They had started with an idea—no, a dream—and they’d turned it into reality together. You didn’t do something like that and not form bonds. But they were the guys at work, after all. Yeah, you talked about lives and wives and kids and ups and downs, but they were just the guys at work.

  Until you abandoned them, wallowing in grief and self-pity and guilt. Walked away from the dream you’d built up into reality together as if it was so much litter on the sidewalk, already just another tattered shred of history. You went off chasing a cockamamie vision that you couldn’t tell a soul for fear of ending up in a psych ward, but you couldn’t ignore it for fear of worse. Then you met your vision, up close and in real life, and that just scared you all the more because things like that did not happen. But they did.

  And did you call home for a reality check? Call home to apologize? Hell no. You called home to ask a friend to commit a federal crime for you. And he did it without a moment’s hesitation. And he said, “So when are you coming back, G?” as if you’d done nothing more than take an afternoon off for a round of golf.

  If a God existed and really gave a damn, was really fair, all of the other good stuff that people with faith said they believed, there was a special place in heaven for people like Dex. And rather than kick himself for what he’d done, or wondering why Dex was the kind of man he was, Grant decided to do the one thing that made even the slightest sense in a moment of reflection in a hotel room in a faraway town he’d stumbled to in a bizarre vision. He picked up the phone.

  It was silent for a moment, and then Grant heard the voice of the front-desk clerk. “Can I get you something, Mr. Wolfe?”

  So she had learned his real name somehow. Everything he’d heard about small tight-knit communities appeared to be true. But of course it was. His throat tightened briefly as he thought of the close-knit community he’d left behind. Dex and Jerry and all the others. “Yes. I need to make a long-distance call. I guess you need my credit card for that?”

  “We usually would,” the woman said. “But since it’s you, just make the call. Hold on and I’ll give you an outside line.”

  “Um, thanks, but—”

  “Mr. Wolfe,” she said, “I don’t know much. But when Gage Dalton says ‘good people,’ I know what that means. You just go right on being ‘good people’ and make that call. Okay?”

  Grant swallowed. “Okay, sure. Thank you.”

  “And Mr. Wolfe?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t waste much time on apologies. Good friends don’t need it and the rest won’t listen. And somehow I bet you’re calling the kind of friend who won’t need it.”

  My God, he thought, as he waited for the dial tone, did this whole town read minds? Or had someone at the sheriff’s office gossiped? Most likely the latter, he decided.

  Moments later he had a dial tone and punched in the numbers from memory. “Dexter
Flagler’s office,” the woman said. What was her name? Karen.

  “Um, Karen…this is Grant. Grant Wol—”

  “Oh, sure, Mr. Wolfe. I’ll put you right through.”

  He had to let himself smile.

  “Hey, buddy!” Dex had once thought he’d be a football coach, and he certainly had the voice for it. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing, really,” Grant said, only now truly realizing how badly he missed Dex. He had one of those moments that had happened too often since the plane crash, a surging flood of memory. This had been a good part of his past, but still, did everything have to be painful?

  He cleared his throat and spoke again. “I just woke up and realized that I didn’t explain anything when I called you yesterday. Not why I left or anything. Just asked you for a favor. A big favor, as it turned out. It was selfish of me and—”

  “One more word like that and I’m hanging up,” Dex said. “You know me better than that, or you wouldn’t have called and just asked for that favor. And I did it. So you not only know me, but you’re right. So no explanations and no apologies, okay? We’re all just happy to hear you’re okay. Or the rest of them are.”

  “Oh?” Grant asked.

  “I didn’t tell them anything. Just that you called and you’re okay. I couldn’t tell them the rest. And I’m not sure how much I can say on this line. Get me?”

  “Yeah,” Grant said. “I get you. I don’t like what I’m getting, though.”

  “You shouldn’t, buddy,” Dex said. “That stuff you asked about is serious, big-time, ‘up your rectum from a thousand miles away’ kind of stuff. That far and that accurate. Still getting me?”

  “I am. And I’m liking it less and less.”

  “Then you’re hearing what I’m saying. Keep your head down, buddy. Whatever you’re doing, whyever you’re doing it, keep your head down. We want you back, but not for a funeral. Okay?”

  “You got it,” Grant said. “Head down, no funeral. I think I can still fathom simple instructions.”

  “I keep it too damn simple cuz you’re too damn smart,” Dex said. “As always.”

  Grant managed a laugh. “Yes, sir, coach.”

  The tension in Dex’s voice lapsed for an instant, and he actually chuckled. “Now I know you’re getting me.”

  “You’re the best, Dex. I want to say that much. And I want to say thank-you. That’s what I really called to say. Just…thank you.”

  “You’d do it for me,” Dex said. “For any of us here. We always knew that. So do what you need to do and get your ass back here, where your friends can babysit you. And if you’ve met some friends there, and it sounds like you have, bring them back with you. Always need more friendly folk in this city.”

  “We’ll see,” Grant said, feeling his chest tighten again with emotion. “I gotta go, Dex. Thanks again.”

  The tension returned. “Head down, buddy. Way, way down. That’s the no bovine manure, straight-up scoop.”

  “I get it, Dex. I get it.”

  “Get it, and don’t forget it.”

  Always the coach, Grant thought as he hung up the phone. And always the friend. More’s the point, if Dex’s instincts were right—and they were rarely wrong—Trish was in a lot more danger than Grant had imagined. If those chips were the reason someone wanted Trish dead, that someone wouldn’t be sending any amateurs. He’d find pros.

  “She needs the Secret Service,” Grant said to the trellised wallpaper. “And I’m just a half-crippled geek.”

  You’re not God, Gage Dalton had said. But what was the rest? Let Her do Her job, and you do yours. Well, he wasn’t sure what his job was. But he was damn sure going to try.

  It was still early afternoon when Grant returned. Trish saw him on the porch and immediately opened the door, greeting him effusively and reaching for his hand to draw him inside.

  Grant looked startled, but she didn’t explain until she closed the door behind him.

  “That was for the benefit of my guardians.”

  “Oh, the cops.”

  “Exactly. So they don’t have to come over to check you out.”

  “Oh.” He looked a little downcast, but then an impish smile, utterly unexpected, appeared. “I wouldn’t have minded at all if you’d meant it.”

  Her cheeks colored faintly. “You seem to have…changed.”

  “I had a good talk with Dex. I—” He broke off. After a moment he found his voice again. “I realized that in running from the bad things, I ran from the good, too. I need to start reestablishing my connections with the good things.”

  “I’m happy for you.” And she was. In spite of feeling a strong pang in her heart, because that meant he would be leaving as soon as this business was over. But hadn’t she known that all along?

  Still, the pang persisted as they went to sit in the living room so he could be comfortable. Sitting on the couch side by side should have made her feel close to him, but the gulf was still there, larger than the twelve inches between them would have indicated.

  “I’m glad you talked to Dex again.” And she meant it. It was only a small, selfish part of her that didn’t, and she pushed that part back.

  “Me, too.” A long breath escaped him, as if he were releasing something. “It’s amazing. He acted like I never went away. And just like that, it felt like I never had. He wouldn’t even let me apologize.”

  “They say you can judge a man by his enemies, but if you ask me, you can judge him better by his friends. You seem to have some very good ones.”

  “The best,” he agreed. “God, I don’t want to choke up again.”

  “Why not? You’re allowed to.”

  He glanced at her. “Haven’t you heard? It’s not manly.”

  “Where you’ve been, I think it would be less manly if you pretended to feel nothing.”

  “I haven’t been able to pretend that for a long time.”

  “So don’t start.”

  He turned sideways and reached for her hand. When she didn’t object, he closed his fingers around hers and squeezed gently. “There’s more to talk about than whether I’m very lucky in my friends.”

  “I don’t know that I’d call it luck, but go on.”

  “Dex said something that scared the bejesus out of me.”

  She tensed. “Do I want to know?”

  “I think you have to.”

  She pressed her lips together, knowing that thoughts she’d been avoiding since Lori had left were about to be stirred up. “Give it to me.”

  “These chips are for smart weapons.”

  “I kind of figured that out. Nobody would want any other kind.”

  “Well, we’re talking about orders of magnitude here. I won’t quote Dex exactly because you might not like his language, but let me put it this way. You’re familiar with the size of a bull’s-eye on a target?”

  “Of course.” Her fingers gripped his as tension returned in one massive slam.

  “Well, imagine being able to hit one from a thousand miles away.”

  “Oh, my God!” She clapped her other hand to her mouth as if she could hold something in. Her heart turned over and her stomach sank like a stone.

  “Exactly. This is a huge breach. And frankly, Trish, if this killer doesn’t turn up soon, we’re going to have to go to the FBI with this. We can’t allow stuff like that to get into the wrong hands.”

  “Of course we can’t. Oh, God! I had no idea we were doing something so critical!”

  “Of course not. Everyone would want a low profile on this, and there’s no reason anyone at the plant should have to know exactly what these chips do. It’s not their part of the job.”

  “But…” She looked at him, panicky. “I need to let someone know right now.”

  He shook his head. “Trish, you already let the CFO know. It’s in his hands.”

  “But what if…what if…” She couldn’t even bring herself to say it.

  “Could anyone else know what you found?”

&nb
sp; “In theory, of course they could. I mean, I didn’t ballyhoo it, but people knew I was looking into things and getting a little disturbed. If someone at the plant had done something wrong, and he knew I was sniffing around it…how smart do you have to be?”

  “Not that smart,” he said grimly. “Okay, here’s what you do. Call Gage now. Or I will. Have him contact the feds. I’m sure there’s a way he can keep them from bumbling into the middle of this in a way that will scare off our only possible link to the bad guys. They should have as much interest as anyone in making sure they don’t blow this.”

  She felt gutted, hollowed out, and looked at him even as she felt terror pinch her eyes. “You know what this means?”

  “What?”

  “If those chips weren’t just miscounted, they’re going to send a pro after me. A thing like this…it’s too important to screw up.”

  His mouth tightened, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to, apparently. Instead, he gave her hand a quick squeeze, then pulled away. “I’ll be right back. I’ll find a way to let Gage know how serious this is without getting any of us in trouble.”

  She nodded, watching him walk out of the room to use one of her phones, feeling as if her last lifeline had just deserted her.

  And suddenly she saw dominoes starting to fall in a long chain. Because she wasn’t the only one who knew. She’d told Hank. So Hank would be under suspicion unless he’d already reported it. Assuming he knew what those chips were for, and at his level in the company he probably had some idea.

  Regardless, he had been informed, so if someone wanted to kill her because she’d discovered a discrepancy, they’d have to kill him, too.

  And of course, the FBI would want to know how she’d found out the importance of the chip. And that would drag Grant and Dex into the middle of the maelstrom of a federal investigation that might get them all jailed.

  Telling herself she was protected because she hadn’t realized the significance of the missing product was nothing but a thin wall against the questions that were going to be asked now. Questions she couldn’t answer without getting other people into trouble.