Hit 'N' Run (Under Suspicion #1) (18 page)

“Creepy.” Jordan shuddered.

“Think of it,” Mitch continued, standing to pace the small room. “This was a family who planned ahead by decades. This pipeline is their golden goose, and we stole the hen before she was able to lay her eggs.”

“So what now?” Luke got up from the table to add the information as a point on the whiteboard. He wrote in small block letters:

drug smuggling supports

pipeline development
.

Mitch laced his fingers behind his head. “I have to talk to Lorna. She knows this company.”

“Good luck with that,” Luke murmured, turning from the board.

***

Mariam answered the door with a frown. “Listen, Mitch,” she began, her cheeks puffed out while she checked over her shoulder. He heard the merry tunes of children’s shows. She stepped out on the porch, keeping her hand on the doorknob as she softly closed the door behind her. “I don’t know what went on between the two of you. But I have never seen my girl so broken up.”

“I know, Mariam.” Mitch hung his head, imagining the kind of pain he inflicted when someone who guarded her privacy so closely realized it had been laid open for comment. “I’m sorry. I need to explain to Lorna. I need to make her understand.”

“I think the time for that is past.” The older woman shook her silver curls. “I have waited so long for her to find someone to share a life with, and for some reason I had hoped it would be you. But—it’s no use, Mitch.”

His own mother might have been standing there telling him how disappointed she was in him. Mitch felt lower than gum on the sole of his shoe. “If she can just give me a chance to explain.”

Mariam sighed and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “She’s not here, Mitch,” she said, starting to turn back towards the entrance to the house.

Mitch’s hand shot out to rest gently on her shoulder. “Where is she? I really need to know, Mariam. I need to make this right.”

She faced him with clear eyes, which seared through to his soul before answering. “Away for a couple of days on business.”

“Where?”

“Mitch, really…” Mariam pulled back. “I just don’t—”

Mitch’s throat constricted with emotion. “Mariam,” his hand tightened marginally on her shoulder. His stomach knotted with a feeling of dread. “It’s important. She’s important. I may not have handled everything the way I should have, but…” He dropped his hand, dejected, to his side and paused for breath, unsure of how to make her understand. Feeling this way for another person was new to him. When he and Lorna parted before, he was hurt and never able to get over it, always blaming her. Now he knew she was in danger, and he felt responsible. “I need—”

Was it something in his tone? Maybe it was his intensity that made her turn back towards him. “She’s gone to the interior—northern British Columbia, Mitch. They’re doing a big shoot on Aqua Oil. I don’t know the particulars.”

“Who would?”

“You’re persistent, then.” She nodded at him.

He returned her nod with assent.

“Her assistant, Tia.”

“If you happen to talk to her—”

“I will,” the petite woman replied quickly. “She always calls to wish us a good night.”

“You’ll tell her I stopped by?”

Mariam reached out a hand to touch his arm, a soft expression of sympathy lit the green depths of her eyes. “Of course I will.”

“Thank you, Mariam,” he said, starting to turn away, expecting the matronly woman to retreat to the house. When she didn’t release the grip on his forearm, he turned back, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Just wait here a minute, will you?”

“Of course. What is it?” Curious, he stepped back towards the door.

“I’ll be right back,” she replied vaguely.

Mitch scanned the road, looking for abnormalities. Every car parked along the street looked suspicious.
Because you spent so much time parked on her street, watching
. He leaned against the railing, his elbows supporting his weight, wrists dangling loose. To a casual observer, he would look off the cuff as he scrutinized the surroundings. Inside, he was anything but casual: strung tight with a foreboding sensation he couldn’t seem to shake.

The slight whoosh behind him signaled Mariam’s return. She looked solemn as she glanced down at the brown paper package in her hands before shifting her gaze to his. Bobbing her head in what appeared to be more reassurance for herself than for him, she handed the parcel over. “Here.”

Mitch’s heart stepped up its rapid beating. “What’s this?”

She shook her head. “I really don’t know. I was upstairs cleaning and saw this on her desk. I can only assume she meant to give it to you upon her return.” She glanced down at the wood decking of the veranda. “But you’re here now. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind my giving it to you.”

Accepting the large manila envelope without glancing at it, he said, “Whatever it is, Mariam, I want you to know I’ll be back. I am not about to give up on us.”

Mariam’s brow appeared to clear at his words. “Oh, I’m glad to hear it, Mitchell.”

Somehow the formal use of his name on her lips seemed just right. “I won’t lose her again, Mariam.”

Walking with purpose down the path towards the street, Mitch noticed the black sedan shadowed under the branches of a large poplar tree. With a calm patience he didn’t feel, he waited until he rounded the edge of the lawn, out of sight of the sedan before he pulled out his phone.

Chapter Sixteen

Pleasantly surprised by the outcome, Lorna and Tim worked in easy harmony. They worked throughout the day, sharing ideas on how they would best use the footage. It was a perfect day for both video and photo shots. She’d expected their time together to be awkward, but she loved her job and she was doing what she loved—strategizing and planning.

After her illegal search, she had expected to be awkward in his company, but caught up in the moment, she focused on the job.

Tim Fong’s congenial manner that had served him so well in business made spending the day with him a pleasure. Including June, they enjoyed a picnic of the finest foods laid on a table dressed with real silver and crystal goblets—decadent. With an affable smile, which matched his casual jeans and open-necked shirt, topped off with a lamb-soft leather jacket, he gave off every impression of trustworthy calm.
Everyone wears a costume
, Lorna reflected, turning to face him as he approached, complete with all his electronic gadgetry, from the large recently erected tent.

Despite what she now knew about him, she still wondered why, with his obvious good looks and attractive personality, there was no Mrs. Fong.
Too picky? Too busy?
Just to interrupt her contemplations, June came scurrying out from the temporarily constructed shelter they were using as an office, iPad open, tapping wildly as she marched.
Too much June—likely.

Not bothering with preamble, June halted her march a couple feet from Tim. “The truck hauling the valves is stranded in Seattle.”

Tim looked between Lorna and June, nodding once to Lorna before turning so she faced his back. Taking the hint, she buttoned her thin navy blue dress jacket and walked slowly backward a few paces, giving them privacy. Rubbing her arms against the sudden chill of the gathering northern shadows, she was glad she had thought to dress in layers today.

“What happened?” Tim’s questioning tones traced across the short distance. “Start at the beginning.”

“They’re claiming…”

“Who’s claiming, June?” he said. His voice held a slight edge of impatience. “Be specific.”

“The Washington authorities have our driver and are claiming that the load was oversized and snagged on a steel girder.” June’s shuddered breath was audible across the expanse. Lorna couldn’t be sure if the woman suffered from severe nervousness or was simply overwrought. Either way, Lorna stretched the distance further, taking her phone out of her pocket, pretending she had a signal to check e-mail while she waited. “The bridge collapsed and a couple of cars drove right into the river.”

“Did the load make it through intact?”

“Yes, but…”

“No buts. So long as the load made it undamaged, everything else can be managed.”

“I don’t see…”

“Lorna?” Tim’s voice shot over June’s rising tones. “Can you come over here? We have a situation for you.”

Lorna retraced her steps, slipping her phone into her pocket. Nodding at June, she turned her attention to Tim.

No fool, knowing she had heard the exchange, he raised a hand in question. “What’s the first move?”

Lorna turned to June. “Was anyone hurt? Specifically, did anyone die because of the bridge collapse?”

“No, thank God.”

“Okay then. Tim’s right. Corporate’s first priority is the load, and you have it confirmed as undamaged?”

“Yes, but the driver’s in custody.” June was reading from her iPad, and Lorna wondered how she managed to get a signal out here when she herself couldn’t.
They must have a portable hotspot or satellite.

“Okay,” Lorna lifted her hand to her nose, running her forefinger knuckle down the bridge, thinking out loud, absorbed with the problem at hand. “We have to take care of our guy. He’s moving our product and getting the job done. Get a lawyer to him immediately.” She turned to Tim. “Which firm do you use in the States?”

June replied in his stead, and Lorna focused her gaze on the other woman’s long face. “I imagine they have someone in Washington.”

“They’re based in Seattle,” Tim said.

“Good. Then we get someone over to assist this guy immediately.”

Tim turned harsh dark eyes on June, which totally transformed him from the jovial good-natured fellow of a few minutes ago to a don’t-fuck-with-me guy Lorna preferred to avoid. “Why aren’t you taking notes?”

Tim’s tone matched his look, and a cold shiver snaked along Lorna’s spine.

June’s head bobbed, brows furrowed in absorption; her faded eyes grew large before she started to tap at high speed on the iPad.

Waiting for June’s fingers to still their motion before continuing, Lorna strove to keep her voice at a level pitch. “Next is his family. They’ll have seen something on the news by this point too, or he would have called. Get someone from corporate human resources to them and offer reassurance. Flying the wife to Seattle to be with him would be best if he’s going to be detained at all. If not, make sure all of her information comes from corporate before she sees it on the news.”

“Smart,” Tim agreed, his voice and look having returned to what Lorna considered his normal. “I like it.”

Lorna couldn’t help the slight flush rise up her neck at his praise. “He would have had pilot trucks with him?”

“Yes, both ahead and behind,” June confirmed, not lifting her head from her tapping fingers and the screen of the iPad.

Lorna moved her fingers so she tapped a fingernail against her front teeth in deep contemplation, puzzling out the best strategy. “Signage,” she said, as though it were a breakthrough. “Have legal check to see if there was signage announcing how high the bridge actually was.”

Brow still furrowed, Tim crossed his arms, nodding approvingly.

She turned to him in conversational stance, placing her hand on her hip, mulling the matter through. “In all logic, if the bridge wasn’t high enough to accommodate the load, the responsibility falls on the lead pilot to radio back. I mean, really, that’s what the radios are for.” She lifted one finger at a time to enunciate her points. “They had the permits; they were following all safety measures. Now the first order of business is to get a corporate press release out to all local media so we can get the load across the border to us. We can deal with everything else strategically once we have the load.”

Pausing for breath, she focused on Tim. “You’ll have to make yourself available for comment. I can finish up here, provided you’re okay with my wrapping things up here on my own while you and June take care of this.”

Tim laid a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Well done, Lorna,” he said with a smile overshadowed by a touch of sadness. “I guess that’s why you get paid the big bucks.”

“Thank you,” she responded. She opened her mouth to say something more, found her mind suddenly filled with thoughts of where his money had originated, seeing Tim for the first time in a bit of a sinister light, and closed her lips tightly.

His hand stayed on her shoulder as he watched her for a bit longer than necessary before he dropped his hand and turned to issue more orders to June as they proceeded to walk towards the tent. A flurry of activity saw the canvas structure dismantled within minutes, loaded into the large chopper with an AQO logo on the side. Lorna had yet to receive a response about why the logo, if they were going to use initials, wasn’t just AO. But then the blades began to whir as everyone left, except the production crew and Lorna standing in the meadow, and her mind focused on finishing the details of the shoot.

***

Driving around the block, Mitch parked his truck, grabbing the baseball cap hung on the back of his headrest. He stowed the envelope under the bucket seat and walked back towards Lorna’s house. Phone in hand, in rapid succession, he called all parties necessary to post a security watch for Mariam’s and Kris’s safety.
Luke would be best
, he thought, but he’d leave that up to the team to decide. He requested contact between their detachment and Prince George’s detachment and arranged transport for himself and Hank to the interior. The last call was for his Chief.
Save the best for last
.

“I have what we need to close the noose,” Mitch said, stopping a couple of houses back behind the black sedan, crouched out of sight. He opened the envelope, confirming what it contained was unnecessary. Finally seeing Lorna clearly, he now understood; ethically, if she had information, she would freely pass it along, regardless of how she might feel about the situation or what it may mean to the past she’d been running from her whole life. He had been a fool for ever doubting her. “I’ll drop it off before I catch the chopper to Chetwynd.”

“Chetwynd?”

“Lorna’s in danger. She’s there now with Tim Fong.”

“Has she contacted you?”

“No. She doesn’t know. Hank and I are leaving within the hour.” His eyes were trained on the two heads in the front seat of the car. “I just have to take care of something, then I’ll be right in.”

“What?” Boulet sounded thoroughly befuddled. Mitch smiled. Despite the situation, he was enjoying the moment, his Chief’s discomfiture. “You’re going where? With Hank? Where are you right now?”

“I’ll explain everything within the hour.” Mitch ended the call abruptly as a female jogger approached. Pretending to be tying his shoe, he stored the phone in his pants pocket, drilled the cap low over his brow to shadow his eyes. Waiting for the voluptuous runner to pass the sedan, he crouched low, out of sight by the back bumper. If they were men at all, their eyes would be trained on the curvy runner and not on their mirrors and what approached from behind.

Crouched beside the vehicle, Mitch could see the license plate was a phony. His intention was to release the air from the back tires without being seen. Slashing them would be optimum if the two weren’t in the car. However, with them present, a slashing would only alert them to his presence, and for now, he wanted them watched. Easing around the side, keeping out of sight, his eyes trained on the side mirror, he released the valve on the tire to let the air out slowly. If push came to shove, he hoped this would halt their progress somewhat.

***

Wrapping the shoot just as darkness blanketed the eastern sky, Lorna was pleased by the day’s action. All had gone well. Weather that had threatened throughout the day remained at bay, although by the looks of things now in the growing gloom, it wouldn’t be long before those black clouds dumped their load. Lorna lingered at her rented SUV, waiting for the camera crew to gather their equipment. Cut off from cell coverage, she had no idea how the Washington State issue was faring.

On one hand, she was glad for the Seattle issue because it had kept her mind from pondering how she was going to proceed with the information she gleaned about Aqua Oil’s financial history. What would she do once she did release the information? What would it mean for U’s future as a credible company? Aside from the fact she had made her mind up to give Mitch the information, the question remained; when would she give it to him?
Sooner rather than later, for sure. But how should I tell him?
If I call him on this, will he think he was right all along and that I really was involved and am simply trying to save my own neck?

No
, despite their continued communication issues, somehow Lorna understood she could, in the end, trust Mitch. Her hand covered her heart as she recalled the hurt in his voice when they parted Saturday. How he reached for her and how she walked away too offended, too stunned by his revelations to listen.
I just don’t know where to go from here. What a mess
.

She waved farewell at the four-man camera crew as they drove past. Shaking her head to clear it, she decided she would deal with the details of her crumbling existence later. Climbing into the Buick Enclave, she knew the loss of one client wouldn’t ruin her. She would simply have to work harder to replace the loss. Bending her head forward over the steering wheel to peer at the sky, she blew air through her nose, dreading the two-hour drive ahead of her to get back to the nearest town where she was lodging. A town overrun with forestry workers going to one site or another. Their big quads latched to the back of the large diesel trucks.
Well, what did I expect would be up here where there’s nothing but trees? Fishermen?

Pulling her cell from her pocket, checking for a signal, she groaned—
still no coverage
—anticipating all of the e-mail she would have to get through that evening. Her eyes fastened on the OnStar symbol, wondering if it would even work in this remote area.
Doubtful
. Holding the cell against the ceiling as though height would somehow support signal strength, Lorna rolled her eyes. She managed to get through to Mariam on the landline from the hotel last night, and she didn’t want to chat long, considering what they charge for in-room calls.
Scandalous
.

The cost of in-room calls was, of course, worth it. She hated to be away from Kris for any length of time. Nodding her head at the clouds, knowing procrastination was not going to make the clouds any less ominous or the drive any shorter, she pulled the ignition fob out of her pocket, and laid it in the console beside her before pressing the engine start button.