First Wave, page 5
Josh was curious enough he wanted to ask her about it. But she wasn’t going to open up until her conditions were met—until she knew she could trust him.
There wasn’t enough time for that. Not when, right now, they had until tomorrow night to figure out who killed Maggie and what it had to do with shipments.
They had to focus.
“So what do you think?” he asked her. “Bikers?”
Dakota shrugged. “Maybe. We can find the compound and then run the information. See what we get back.”
“Want to drive over and look? Maybe do some surveillance?”
“Sure.”
“How’s your head?” Maybe she shouldn’t be traipsing around snowy mountainsides when she had a concussion.
“I’ll let you know if I need a break.”
That was something, at least. She’d sat down last night as well. Maybe she wasn’t the kind of stubborn woman who pushed herself to breaking just to make a point. Good to know.
“All right.” Josh held the passenger door open for her.
“Are you going to keep doing that?”
“Probably.”
“Who taught you to be a gentleman? Maggie’s grandmother? Your mother?”
Josh tried to figure out the answer to that. “My mom, probably.”
“What’s she like?”
“She was amazing.”
Her brow crinkled. “Was?”
“Cancer. I was fifteen. It was awful, but she was a great mom. It’s easy to remember the good things. All the stuff moms do like make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. You know?”
“Sure.” The word sounded choked.
Josh said, “But I also remember the way she’d get on me if my room stank. Or if I left my stuff all over the hallway when I got home from school.” He grinned. “Because we’re all human, and no one is perfect. She said that was why she needed Jesus in her life so much. Because she’d get overwhelmed trying to do it all herself.”
It was a risk. A feeler, to see how Dakota viewed faith.
She nodded. “God is there when I need Him.”
“Like that song, right? I need Thee every hour. She used to sing that while she was cleaning.” He smiled at the memory. “I haven’t thought of that in a long time.”
Dakota’s smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something.
The roar of a truck engine cut her off.
Josh spun around to see. Dakota grabbed him. He kept spinning, taking her with him, going down to the ground. Instinct fired even before he could discern what the problem was.
Then he saw it. Flying through the air.
Grenade.
Chapter 6
They rolled across the ground as the truck exploded behind them. The front end lifted up in a fireball that nearly flipped it over completely.
Dakota didn’t quite scream, but the noise she made wasn’t far from it.
The sound was like thunder. Like the boom of a rocket launcher tearing apart a metal building. They rolled to a stop, and Josh groaned in her ear. His truck.
The truck that had pulled up alongside them was gunning it away from them. She noted the license plate.
“Dark blue truck.” She glanced at him. “Same one as last night?”
“Maybe. It was dark.” He nudged her. “Get off me.”
Dakota rolled to sit beside him. Squishing him with her enormousness? Didn’t matter what size a woman was, she figured they always felt two sizes bigger than they really were. At least, she usually did.
“Not because you’re crushing me.”
She narrowed her eyes. Behind him, flames licked the truck. The black smoke rising from the front end stank badly enough her nose wrinkled.
He said, “I just want to get up off the ground.”
“I’m going to wait a minute before I do that.” She pulled out her phone and called Talia.
The woman answered before the first ring had sounded in Dakota’s ear. “Hello, IT—”
Dakota spoke over her. “Blue truck. Washington plates.” She rattled off the letters and numbers. “Find out who it belongs to. I want their address. Now.”
“Backup?”
“Yeah, send the boys.” Salvarez and Niall could help her navigate the local cop, who was surely done dealing with that tree. Explosions probably didn’t happen much in this town. She figured someone from the bar, one of the crowd now gathered outside, had already called the deputy.
She hung up on Talia and watched the bartender come over with a fire extinguisher. He handed it to Josh, who used it on the flames. Dakota’s backside was numb from sitting on the ground. She gritted her teeth and stood, pulled out the hairband holding her ponytail in and redid it. Her head pounded. Enough she thought about being sick but swallowed the sensation down and took a few deep breaths.
Josh gave the fire extinguisher a few short bursts, then said, “Who’d you call?”
“Technical support.”
He handed the fire extinguisher off and came to stand beside her. His eyes surveyed her head. “Did you hit it again?”
She said, “No,” instead of shaking her head.
“Technical support?”
“Talia Matrice. She’s on loan from the NSA. Probably already knows everything about you, including the time you failed a math test in the sixth grade. And what you had for dinner last night.”
Josh’s eyebrows lifted.
She said, “It isn’t just that she’s good. She’s also incredibly nosy. She says social media killed it though, because everyone posts all the time about every single detail of their lives. Still, the juicy stuff is always buried.”
His eyes turned interested. “What juicy stuff is there about you?”
“Plenty buried. Not really juicy, though.” And that was all she was going to say about that. He hardly needed to know the ins and outs of her history, but she could at least acknowledge she had one. He’d figured that much out, and she wasn’t going to insult his intelligence by denying it.
Before he could dig farther, she said, “Sorry about your truck.”
“I have insurance.”
“O-kay.” Weren’t most guys all about their vehicle? She’d figured he would be mad about the fact it had just been destroyed.
“The point is you’re okay, I’m okay. No one got hurt.”
There was an edge to his words. One she didn’t understand. He seemed almost frustrated—because of her concussion? That wasn’t his fault. “The fact they did this means we’re on to something. If there was nothing to find, then they wouldn’t have reacted to us digging into their business like this.”
“So we’re on the right track?”
“Something we did, or said, got back to them and they retaliated.”
He worked his mouth back and forth. “I told them we’re feds.”
“Could be that. Or it could just be us coming here.” She indicated the bar with a sweep of her hand. “Maybe one of them called the owner of that truck, and they paid us a visit.”
A car pulled into the lot. Salvarez was at the wheel, Niall beside him. The two had been canvassing town and visiting again with the owners of the apple orchard. She was interested to know if they’d discovered anything. A destroyed truck was hardly a win, unless Talia got the name of the owner of the fleeing truck. And that was assuming it wasn’t a stolen vehicle that had sped away.
Following the car was a fire truck, and then a sheriff’s department vehicle. If they’d intended to stay under the radar, it wasn’t working. So much for an incognito investigation. Everyone in town would know they were feds by the end of the day—not just those guys from the orchard.
Salvarez shut off the car. Both guys came straight to her, but Sal in particular took in the vehicle. “You guys okay?”
Josh said, “We’re good.”
Dakota nodded as much as she could without pain reverberating through her skull. She could use another dose of Ibuprofen, but always forgot to note what time she’d taken the last dose. How long had it been?
“Pierce?”
She snapped out of her thoughts. “What?”
“You okay?”
Dakota said, “I’m okay.”
Salvarez didn’t look convinced, but he let it go. “Bomb?”
“Grenade.”
Josh said, “Military.”
Dakota turned to him.
“I’m just pointing out that it isn’t easy to get a grenade unless you’re in the service and you stole it. Or they could’ve bought one from someone who is. They don’t exactly sell them on the open market, right?”
“That jives with what we found this morning,” Niall said. “The military connection. Or at least a military-style of operating.”
Dakota frowned. She had to wonder if this was going where she had a feeling it might. It was like a ghost suddenly appearing at the corner of her vision. That otherworldly specter of the past reared its head, mouth open, ready to chomp down and devour her.
Salvarez’s eyes were dark when he said, “This morning we found out there’s a local group holed up outside of town, living off the land. Recruiting local guys who don’t want to pay taxes.”
“A militia?” Two words, but it sounded choked coming from her mouth. She cleared her throat and then asked it again.
Salvarez nodded, his eyes knowing.
Josh said, “You think that’s who is transporting drugs, or guns, or whatever through the orchard?”
“Could be.” Sal shrugged one shoulder, his attention still on her. “Niall and I are going to go check it out.”
Because he was trying to save her from having to do it? “This is my case.” She got to town first, that meant she took point. The only agent with seniority here was Victoria. Salvarez didn’t have the authority to bench her. “Josh and I will go.”
She saw him glance at her out the corner of her eye.
“I have to go check on Neema.”
“Fine. We can do that on the way.” Why did he sound like he didn’t want to come with her?
The sheriff’s deputy who’d shown up wandered over. Dakota figured she’d continue making her point and strode between the guys toward the deputy. She stuck her hand out and introduced herself. Watched that flare in his eyes when she mentioned Homeland Security, and the task force.
Just another day on the job.
. . .
Josh shook the deputy’s hand.
“Thanks for speaking with me. I appreciate your time.”
“No problem.” Like Josh was one of these task force agents, some high-up federal guy who deigned to speak with the small town sheriff’s deputy. Instead of what he actually was—a rookie entirely too worried about what would happen when his name ended up on a report. Or when someone called his office and it got back to the assistant director that he was here, wrapped up in a murder investigation.
Dakota stood with her fellow task force agents. The conversation was intense as indicated by all the frowns and gesturing.
The sheriff’s deputy wandered off, and Josh looked over his truck. It was a wreck. No way could he salvage that. It would have to be towed away and scrapped.
He sighed. That sweater on the back seat was his favorite. Or, it had been his favorite. Now it was a charred mess. Other than that he didn’t keep much in there, but he’d have to figure out a new way to get home. After he called his insurance guy.
Josh turned away from the crowd gathered, the agents and first responders, and started walking toward the center of town. The air was crisp. Thankfully the side of the road wasn’t lined with a curb of mounded brown snow. Most of that had melted. April was coming.
His boots splashed the puddles as he walked, and cars passed him with a gust of wind that numbed the back of his neck.
His phone was going to ring at any moment. He knew it. He’d get fired or called back to the office and reprimanded. Then fired.
It could’ve been a whole lot worse. When he’d confronted the two men and the teen, they could’ve killed both him and Dakota. Josh had forced the situation. And he thanked God it hadn’t been worse. She could so easily be dead right now, because he’d put her in danger just trying to save her life.
The reason didn’t matter. Not when he should’ve thought through the outcome more. Instead, he’d just reacted. Gone on instinct.
Josh stuffed down the urge to kick a mound of crunchy snow.
The quicker he got back to Neema, the quicker he could find a way to get out of here. Get back to his life. He didn’t need to hang around Dakota and her team, not when doing so just reminded him of everything his career as a federal agent wasn’t. Yet. Maybe it never would be. And what was the point in longing for something that hadn’t happened and might not ever?
When the truck exploded, he’d protected her. That made up for putting her in danger in the first place, right? They were square. He could leave right now, with his conscience—and career—intact.
A car pulled up alongside him. Josh waited for it to pass, but it just slowed. Like they were trying to keep pace with him.
His hand shifted toward his weapon.
After a second the engine revved and the vehicle pulled directly ahead of him. The front window rolled down. Dakota said, “Need a ride?”
“I’m fine walking.” He was halfway to town already.
“It’s cold.”
“I like walking. It’s my time to think.”
Usually he did it with Neema beside him and earbuds in. Not that he was actually listening to anything, but people were less inclined to stop and talk if they thought you couldn’t hear. Together they hiked mountains. Ran along forest trails. They even walked the neighborhood around his house. Didn’t matter, so long as it was quiet and they were moving.
Dakota said, “Get in the car, Weber.”
Behind her, in the driver’s seat, that Alvarez guy snorted. Was the third one, the guy Niall, in the back?
This was about reminding him he wasn’t part of their team. Maybe getting a ride wasn’t that big of a deal, but it also wouldn’t help that much.
“Do you want me to tell you that we need your help?”
“You don’t,” he pointed out.
“Maybe we do and none of us know it yet,” she said. “I’ll at least admit to that much.”
He’d have figured she was mostly serious, except for that gleam of humor in her eyes. He didn’t need to be placated. “I don’t mind getting a ride.” It was cold, and he didn’t have his gloves.
“Then get in.”
He’d been right that the other guy—Niall—was in the back seat. He nodded to Josh and then went back to his phone.
Alvarez glanced over his shoulder once before he pulled back onto the road, and they headed for the motel. “Don’t forget you still have to look at mugshots.”
“Did you get anything back from the license plate?”
Dakota was the one who answered that. “Nothing yet.”
“How’s your head?”
“Fine.”
He said, “You expect any of us to believe that’s true?”
The guys reacted to his words. Shifted. Glanced at him. Josh just sat there. The three of them were in agreement about that, at least. Dakota was one stubborn woman. But despite it, he didn’t think she would endanger anyone just to prove she was fine when she wasn’t. Josh didn’t have enough experience with her to know when to push the situation and when to hang back.
Dakota said, “Whether it is or not doesn’t matter. What matters is finding who killed Maggie Detweiler and what the source of that chatter was. That’s where you come in.”
“Mugshots?”
“Yes.” She paused. “We know who Terrence Crampton is, but we need to ID those other two guys.”
“You think Terry and his buddies are the ones who tossed a grenade under my truck?”
Alvarez said, “Pretty definitive way of saying back off.”
“Except that it strands me in town, and now I have a grudge as well. How does that help them cover up what they’ve done and keep me off their tails when they’ve no doubt got more nefarious things to do?”
Someone snorted, he wasn’t sure.
Dakota twisted in her seat and said, “Nefarious?”
He shrugged. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“I’m—”
Alvarez and O’Caran both said, “Fine,” dragging the word out far longer than she would have done.
Josh nearly laughed.
“Maybe I wanna walk,” she told them. “Did you think about that? No, because you only think about yourselves.”
“You don’t want to walk, Cupcake.”
“I like walking.”
Alvarez said, “You do?”
“Yes, gumdrop.” She leaned closer, firing the word at him like a cannon blast over the deck of a warship.
Josh said, “Do you guys ever get along?”
Sal said, “Yes.”
Dakota said, “Of course.”
Beside Josh, O’Caran glanced over, shook his head and mouthed the word, No. Josh smiled, and the young NCIS agent returned it. Then he glanced at his phone. Seemed like this guy felt his pain, because he said, “If you guys are done bickering, Talia got a license plate.”
The NSA person?
“The truck that fled the scene belongs to Terrence Crampton.”
“Sounds familiar,” Josh said. “Maggie’s boyfriend is the one who threw a grenade at us?”
“He threw it at your truck.” Dakota pointed out.
Like it made a difference? They could have been seriously hurt, even if Terry hadn’t been aiming at them.
“Meet Terrence Crampton.” O’Caran held out his phone so Josh could see the screen. “This the guy?”
Josh looked at the screen. “Yep. Confirmed. That’s the guy on Maggie’s phone, and that’s one of the guys I saw standing over Dakota last night.”
Alvarez’s grip tightened on the wheel until his knuckles whitened. O’Caran didn’t look much happier. Dakota stared straight out the front window.
“But he wasn’t the man who killed Maggie.”
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