Page 47 of Night Watch
“Why did you leave law enforcement?” she asked.
His head popped up. “For Aiden. Dad needed a kidney transplant, and Aiden donated one of his. At the time, he was an ATF agent. We were worried he would get into a shoot-out or confrontation and lose his only remaining kidney. So we formed the agency to keep him safer.”
Ah, family trumped everything in Erik’s life. Which was why he’d often taken her home on weekends for family dinner and why he frequently talked about getting married after they graduated. Oh, if that had only been a possibility, she would have his and his family’s loving arms surrounding her after the loss of her mother and their kindness and wisdom supporting her.
He brought the laptop to her. “I’ve got it all queued up. Happy viewing.”
She caught a whiff of his masculine scent, a mix of musk and mint. The same basic scent as he’d had in college, and her mind traveled back there again. Back to him holding her. For that moment, every problem receded and she believed she could overcome all obstacles.
“Something wrong?” he asked from the chair across from her.
She hadn’t even noticed him move back to his seat. She had to do a better job of letting the past go.
“I’m good.” She started a video and cupped her hand at the side of her eyes to keep her focus pointed at the computer. The big white bandage on her hand helped, and she managed to review file after file until she was tired from sitting. She was about to get up for a glass of water when, on her screen, a guy ran furtively across the lab parking lot in the dark and stopped in front of the lab door.
She paused it. “Look at this!”
Erik rushed around the table, but she kept her eyes pinned to the man, noting details. He wore dark clothes—maybe black. Heavy boots and a stocking cap. “He fits the build of the intruder at my mom’s place.”
“He sure does.” Erik moved closer to the screen.
She looked at the date stamp. “Nine-fourteen p.m. on the night before my mom’s funeral. During her visitation at the funeral home.”
The man produced a key from his pocket and slipped into the lab’s door.
“Who is he, and why does he have a key?” Kennedy waited to hear the alarm go off, but it didn’t. “She would never give a key to a counterfeit drug maker. If he works for them, he would’ve had to steal it.”
“Let’s keep watching.” Erik leaned over her, and for once, she barely noticed how close he’d come to her, but she did see Pong slink off and settle in his kennel. He kept an eye on them though, so maybe he was picking up on the tension.
The video played for nearly an hour without any action and finally the man exited.
“He’s not carrying anything so if he took something it must be small,” Kennedy said.
“He had to have the security code too, or there would’ve been a police response.” Erik’s voice came from close behind.
“Look.” She tapped the screen on the main warehouse entrance, where a uniformed guard stepped out. He yelled something and ran toward the intruder.
The intruder bolted back through the lot toward the river and out of camera range.
“The main warehouse has their own cameras,” Erik stated. “They could’ve captured additional footage. Rewind and zoom in on the guard’s uniform so I can see which company he works for.”
She rewound the video. “Shouldn’t we just go straight to the warehouse manager?”
“If it’s the company I think it is, I have contacts there. I should be able to get the video.”
She zoomed in and froze the screen on the guard’s chest. The patch readSteele Guardians.
“Perfect.” Erik stood back. “I know Londyn Steele, and her family owns Steele Guardians. She should be able to get us a copy of the video and do it far faster than going through the warehouse manager.”
He pulled out his phone and stabbed the buttons, then lifted it to his ear. “Londyn. Good. It’s Erik Byrd. I have a favor to ask.”
Kennedy watched him as he described their need, his enthusiasm not waning as he listened to Londyn’s response.
“Perfect,” he said. “You know anything about the potential anthrax investigation?” He tapped his finger on the table as he listened. After a moment, he said, “Can you ask around?” A deep frown marred his usual pleasant expression. “Yeah, I get it. You can’t tell me anything, but thanks for your help on the video.”
He looked like he was going to lower the phone but then said, “Of course not. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” His frown deepened. “Thanks. Have Mackenzie call me ASAP.”
He lowered his phone but kept it in his hand. “I forgot to mention Londyn’s a detective with PPB. She can’t share anything about the investigation.”
