CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rowan’s breath stalled. “Homegrown terrorists. Where would Heather get a list of terrorists?”
“A better question, how old is that list?” Brent scowled. “And why did she give Rowan the list for safe keeping?”
“She didn’t trust many people, especially in Jay’s world. In fact, Heather didn’t have contact with friends except me. Jay didn’t like her friends and barely tolerated me. I’m lucky he didn’t cut me out of their lives.” Knowing her creep of a brother-in-law, he’d tried. Thankfully, Heather must have stood strong against the pressure.
“Sounds like Jay was a control freak. My guess is your sister got the list from Jay without his knowledge.”
The risk her sister took to obtain the list, code it, then bring it to Rowan made her stomach twist. What was so important she would take such a risk? “Why did Jay have the list?”
“Adam, send me a copy of the list,” Zane said. “I’ll run checks on these guys to see where they are at the moment.”
“Copy that.”
“Everything under control at the shop?” Rowan asked.
“No more problems with Wright or anyone else. Lacey settled down after you and Brent left. Traffic’s been steady. It’s nice working here.”
“May I ask a favor, Adam?”
“Ask.”
“Will you make sure Lacey arrives home safely and Frank hasn’t broken into her house?”
Silence, then, “That’s happened before.”
“A couple times. Will you check?”
“No problem, Rowan. Boss, further orders?”
“I want you at Coffee House when the doors are open. Once you’ve decoded the other part of the list, we’ll shift research work to you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thanks for keeping my friends safe, Adam,” Rowan said.
“It’s my job, but I can’t say it’s a hardship. First rate coffee and snacks at my fingertips all day? Yeah, I’ll suffer for the cause.”
She laughed. “I’m glad Lacey is taking good care of you.”
“Brent, I’ll let you know when I’ve cracked the other code. Check your email in a couple minutes. Z, you and Claire still coming to my place for dinner tomorrow night?”
“You bet. Not letting you welsh on paying your debt, brother-in-law or not.”
“You cheated,” he said.
Zane chuckled. “Didn’t have to cheat. You’re lousy at sled hockey. I expect a full Mexican spread.”
“Yeah, yeah. Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.” The operative ended the call.
“Sled hockey?” Brent’s eyebrows rose. “That’s a new sport for you.”
Zane shrugged. “Claire has turned into a hockey fan since I took her to a Predators game. She wanted to learn how to play.”
“Sounds like fun,” Rowan said. “Do you let her win?”
He scowled. “What do you take me for? A softie?”
She started to apologize, but Rowan noticed the twinkle in his eyes that confirmed her suspicions. “Does she know the truth?”
“He’s too smart for that.” A small smile curved Brent’s mouth.
“She’s pretty cute when she does her victory dance,” Zane said.
She grinned. Rowan couldn’t wait to meet Claire Murphy. She sounded like a fun person to know. “What now?”
“Work.” Brent brushed a soft kiss over her mouth. “I’ll check the potatoes and start the steaks. Get started on your Maxwell Imports search while I work on dinner.”
When Brent left for the patio, Rowan retrieved her laptop. Sitting across from Zane, she booted up her system and thought about that simple kiss Brent gave her. Simple? Ha! How could a brief peck on the mouth cause such a strong reaction? That kiss didn’t mean anything, she reminded herself. Or did it?
She glanced out the patio door at the man poking potatoes. Did she want the kiss to mean something? No. Maybe. Rowan sighed. Yes, she did. Was that too much to hope for?
Probably. What would he see in her? A date to pass the time? Something more? Who was she kidding? Brent Maddox wouldn’t be interested in her when he realized Alexa was part of the equation from now on. As of last night, Rowan and Alexa came as a set.
Rowan typed in her password. No sense brooding when a tidbit of information might help Brent and Zane find Alexa. A direction would help. So if spending time surfing the Net would save Zane or Adam from grunt work, Rowan was glad to type her fingers to the bone.
She keyed in the name of Jay’s company, startled at the number of hits that popped up. Based on the headlines, not all the stories written about Maxwell Imports were complimentary.
Settling back in her chair, Rowan began to read. The news articles were good in the early days of Jay’s company. Reporters called the company a rising star and a challenger for leadership in the industry. According to rumors, Maxwell Imports raked in a substantial profit the first four years. Then the economy did a number on the company and, like every other business in the country, profits slumped. Two years ago, business boomed again.
Rowan frowned. She started Coffee House on a shoestring budget about that time and profits were hard to come by. In fact, she’d had to dig into her savings account for several months because business was slow at first. The people who faithfully bought coffee from her in the early days complained about the economy’s sluggishness.
Jay had been in business longer. Maybe his customers’ businesses had grown again at that time. As far as she knew, Rowan didn’t have customers in the import/export business. Still, the profit surge timing bugged her.
As tired as she was, Rowan might forget details that struck her as strange. She needed paper to keep track of them. “Would Brent mind if I looked for paper?” she asked Zane. “I need to start a list of information to follow up on.”
“It’s fine, Rowan.” Zane winked at her. “He won’t mind if you explore.”
She blinked, not sure how to take that statement. Why wouldn’t Brent mind? She’d seen how he reacted to the invasion of his home.
Brent walked into the kitchen, paused. “Everything okay, babe?”
Her heart skipped a beat at the endearment. She loved hearing those sweet names from Brent’s lips. “I need paper.”
“Top right hand desk drawer in my office.” Brent grabbed the plate of steaks and left again.
“Told you,” Zane said.
In his office, Rowan found the paper and a pen, returned to the table to make notes. Minutes later, Brent brought inside the steaks and potatoes. Rowan breathed deep. Oh, man. The food smelled good. Brent set the platters on the table.
The first bite of steak made Rowan groan in appreciation. “This is incredible, Brent. I might hire you at Coffee House.”
He chuckled. “Unless you expand your menu to include items from the grill, I’ll have to pass. I’m not a baker.”
“You didn’t grill my scrambled eggs and toast this morning.”
Brent shrugged. “That type of breakfast food is easy. What your suppliers provide you with in the mornings is beyond my capability.”
From there, the conversation shifted to funny stories about Brent and Zane’s experiences in the military. When they finished telling tales on each other, Rowan glanced down at her plate, surprised to find it nearly empty.
She glanced at Brent, found him watching her. He winked and started gathering plates and utensils. He and Zane had kept her attention so she would eat. Rowan had to admit she felt stronger, though her body was tired, her brain foggy.
Once the dishes were cleared and the dishwasher running, they returned to the table.
“What did you find in your search?” Brent asked Rowan.
“Weird stuff in Maxwell Imports’ background.”
“Explain.”
“Jay’s company started strong. I’m not sure what he imported, but he made a good profit. The economy tanked and his business suffered. Two years ago the company’s profits soared. Overnight, Jay’s company went from being in the red to operating in the black.”
“Interesting.”
“I started Coffee House at the same time and customers complained about how tough it was to turn a profit. I struggled in those early months. Not Jay, though. One week he’s in the red, the next he’s bucking up against the top of the profit chart.”
“Huh. Anything else?”
“Rumors that Jay was into something illegal. On the plus side, it seems his customers were very happy with his service. No complaints from anyone.”
“That’s strange in itself,” Zane muttered. “Even Fortress has complaints.”
“Exactly what I thought,” Rowan said.
“Anything new on your search, Zane?” Brent asked.
“All six of our militia leaders are where they’re supposed to be. One of them, however, is serving time in the state penitentiary for tax evasion.”
Brent snorted.
Zane chuckled. “Here’s what caught my attention. The Volunteer Militia has a new leader, Keith Phillips. Keith has been busy. He’s traveled a lot of miles recently, including several trips to Mexico.”
“Why Mexico?” Rowan asked.
“He’s not working on his tan,” Zane said.
“Do you know where he’s going?” Brent asked.
“Sorry, boss. Once he crossed the border, Phillips fell off the radar until he returned to the U.S. I can tell you he crossed the border at El Paso.”
“Chihuahua province. That isn’t what I wanted to hear.”
“What’s wrong with him going to Mexico?” From the look on Brent’s face, the information was significant.
“I want to know who Phillips did business with.”
Nice way to dodge the question. “You’re sure he’s up to no good.”
“As sure as the sun rises in the morning, babe.” Brent shifted his attention to his friend. “What assets do we have on the ground in Mexico?”
“None of our people. I checked while we talked to Adam. However, I consulted the DEA’s database. They have agents scattered throughout the country.”
Rowan’s eyebrows rose. Consulted, huh? Sounded like a fancy term for hacking. What was the penalty for hacking into a secured federal database? Jail, fines? Probably that and more. Rowan didn’t think the DEA had a sense of humor about security.
“Anyone we know?” Brent asked.
“Veronica Miles ring a bell for you?”
Brent whistled. “Can we get in touch with her?”
“I know someone who knows someone.”
“Get her a message. See if she’ll tap into her network.”
Zane sent him a pointed look. “We’ll owe her big time for this.”
“A favor. Any time, anywhere. My word on that.”
Rowan blinked. How much would this information cost Brent? From Zane’s grim expression, she guessed the price would be steep.