Chapter Twenty-Four
He woke warm, sandwiched between the back of the couch and Sam’s body. Sam’s cheek was pressed against his, his breath a burst of warm air across the sensitive skin of his neck.
Content to lay there, he enjoyed how solid Sam felt against him. His breathing was slow and even, his body rhythmically pressing against him with each rise and fall of his chest.
Drew’s stomach grumbled, despite his best efforts to silence it. It didn’t wake Sam but did encourage him to plan to seek out the kitchen and make some breakfast. Sam’s watch told him it was just after five. They had some time before they needed to leave but it would be better to travel on full stomachs.
Figuring out the best way to extract himself without waking Sam turned out to be more of a challenge that he’d anticipated. He settled for pushing himself up and attempting to slide over the back of the couch. Only as he moved, sliding out from under Sam, the other man woke, catching hold of him and tugging him down so he was flat on his back on the couch, Sam’s arms either side of him. He could feel the power and strength in Sam’s body at how easily he’d maneuvered him, even though he'd been more sleep than awake. Sam’s eyes scanned him, as if assessing whether he was a threat before he relaxed, peering down at Drew bemusedly.
“Where, exactly, were you going?”
“To the kitchen, to make you some breakfast.”
Sam checked his watch, blinking at it. “It’s five am.”
“I know but…” he paused, remembering who he was talking to, “I guess that’s normal for you.”
“Yeah.”
Drew’s stomach grumbled again and Sam raised an eyebrow. “Breakfast for me or breakfast for you?”
“Does that have to be mutually exclusive?” he argued, wrapping an arm around his stomach as his face heated.
“I guess not. Alright, breakfast it is.” He climbed off Drew, pulling him to his feet, and they went in search of food.
Drew checked the fridge while Sam rifled through the cupboards.
“Long life milk,” he called.
Sam reported back a moment later. “Coffee. Tons of coffee. And some sort of packaged oatmeal. And there’s a microwave.”
A few minutes later they were sitting around the table with large cups of coffee and bowls of flavored oatmeal.
“I don’t know how you can eat something so sickly sweet in the mornings,” Sam said, pointing his spoon at Drew’s bowl of maple syrup and cinnamon flavored oatmeal.
Sam’s was cinnamon and banana. Drew thought his looked more appetizing but Sam ate with gusto.
“We’ll need to get to Materdale early so we can check out the meeting spot. I don’t want you there when this courier comes.”
“No.” Drew shook his head. “I know Diego. It’ll need to be me who meets them. Diego doesn’t trust you yet.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“We’ve been safe in his home for the better part of a day. In a few hours, we’ll have the information we need. We’ve come this far, can we really risk not getting what we came for?”
“Alright, we’ll do it your way,” Sam capitulated.
The walk back to the car was far more pleasant than the walk to the house. The ground was still wet and muddy, but though the skies were overcast, there was no rain.
Sam was quiet but alert and Drew just tried to focus on keeping his footing this time around. The car was where they left it and, after a hairy few seconds wondering if they were going to be stuck in the mud, they managed to turn and get back on the road.
Drew got the radio on, searching for a channel. This far out there was mostly static on the FM. As they came closer to populated areas, they picked up a local station and were treated to a long two minutes of country music before they mercifully cut it short for news and weather. There wasn’t much of interest, a burst water main somewhere neither of them had heard of and a county fair.
“We could always swing by, it sounds like fun,” Drew suggested, after the presenter gushed for a full five minutes on the variety of craft stalls.
“Yeah, I always need knitted socks. It’s not the same when they’re not handmade.”
The town of Materdale was a sleepy place that hadn’t yet woken when they drove through it at nine am. They stopped to ask directions to the old mill which was on the other side of the town. As they drove through the center, it occurred to Drew that he was wrong. This was probably as lively as a town like this got, which was to say, not very.
“Quaint,” Sam remarked.
“I like it. Wouldn’t want to settle here, though.”
“Yeah, not enough danger and excitement for you, huh?”
“Maybe I’ve got the wrong idea. I’m sure they’d appreciate a good, if inartistic, barista.”
They got one or two odd glances as they drove through, but most people paid them no mind. The pace of life here seemed almost snail-like compared to the frenetic activity of the city. In one way, Drew could see the appeal. He felt like he’d had enough excitement to last him a lifetime but was well aware they were only at the beginning of this adventure.
The old mill had long since closed; boarded up, the area around it quiet. They stopped in front of it and got out, Sam doing a quick scout of the area while Drew took out his phone. When a car drove by, he held it up, pretending to take a picture. He took a few real ones for good measure, on the off chance someone asked to see his phone.
Sam was back after only a few short minutes. “Nothing going on,” he said. “I guess we just wait.”
Drew could see he was on alert for danger. He was scanning the area repeatedly, conscious of the few vehicles that came their way.
The area was quiet enough that they could hear the approaching engines long before the vehicles came into view. At nine-forty, another engine approached, not a car but a motorcycle. It came to a stop across the road from them. He and Sam were sitting on the bonnet of the car. Sam straightened up, cautious eyes watching the new arrival. He stepped off the bike before taking off his helmet. Only he was a she.
She clocked the mill, then glanced at them, before reaching into the back of her bike. Sam’s hand went to his waist where his holster secured his gun, hidden under his jacket. He didn’t draw it, just kept his hand there, watching her, his body angled so she couldn’t see what he was doing.
“Sam,” Drew said in warning. Diego wouldn’t have sent danger to them, that was one thing he was certain of.
The woman pulled a package from the back of her bike and crossed the road towards them. Sam relaxed, bringing his hand to rest on his thigh.
“Which one of you is Andrew?” she asked.
“I am,” he said, holding up a hand.
“Excellent. Early and everything. I like that in a man.” She kept a straight face as she spoke, glancing down at the package.
“Hold on, I’m supposed to ask you a security question.” She straightened up and cleared her throat, as if about to make an announcement. “If I’m a meal, but not lunch, if I’m weapon, but not a bat, if I’m one and I’m all, I am a…”
Drew thought quickly, watching Sam turn to him in consternation. “I am a walrus,” he said.
“And so you are. Enjoy your day.” She handed him the package, didn’t ask for a signature, and crossed back to her bike. They watched her get back on, do a U-turn and drive back the way she came.
“A walrus?”
“It’s a movie reference.”
“Diego likes his clues.”
“Maybe a little too much. Had we not had that coffee, I probably wouldn’t have got that.”
They got back in the car and started driving.
“Should I open it?”
“Definitely. I want to know what we have so we can decide what to do.”
Inside was a large sheaf of paper and three USB keys. There was a folded, typed note.
'Three copies and some bedtime reading,' was all it said.
“What are those papers?” Sam asked.
Drew slipped the USB keys back into the envelope. They weren’t much help without a computer. He flicked through the papers, ignoring the lurch and protest of his stomach.
“Some of them are emails, Russell's, someone else’s. Not… not the emails I sent. Different ones. News articles about… about the kind of stuff Russ is doing. The anti-competition stuff. I don’t understand all of it. A coroner’s report on that… that man’s death.” Drew couldn’t say his name.
He kept going through it. There was a lot there and Drew couldn’t say for certain how Diego had accessed all of it. Some of it looked like internal company memos. Not just Russ’ company but one of his rivals as well.
“I think I know part of what Diego was trying to tell us. A few of these articles mention an investigator with the FBI specializing in corporate fraud. Fred Mathis.”
“Okay, so Diego is pointing us toward who to approach with the information.”
“It looks like it.”
He considered for a moment before adding, “Diego told me to get a lawyer. He says I need to protect myself.”
Sam glanced over at him.
“What do you think?”
“I think I’m in over my head and it looks bad that I worked for Russ, had a relationship with him, and lived with him for over a year. It wouldn’t be hard for them to connect the dots and decide I was in on it. And a few words from Russ would do the same.”
“But you weren’t?”
It was the first time Sam had asked him outright.
“I ran the day I found out.”
“But you went back.”
His chest seized at the challenge.
“He didn’t give me a choice. If he had, I’d never have—”
Sam pulled over.
“Hey, take a breath, okay? I believe you, I’m just trying to see it from the other side. I think Diego might be right about you needing legal representation. But now that we have the information, I don’t think we should sit on it either. So we’ll need to get all our ducks in a row very quickly. I can call the VA for a recommendation or we can call the bar association and they’ll give us one.”
“I don’t have the money for that. Well, I do, but I can’t get to it without Russell.”
“We’ll work around that.”
“Okay.” He forced himself to take a few deep breaths. “Okay, I can do this.”
“Yeah, you can.”