Page 56 of Snow

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The late afternoon sun beat down on Platform Two as Snow made his way to the next item on his punch list. He had been at this for hours now, trailed by two of Brett’s men like a pair of loyal dogs who didn’t know when to quit.

He and Nova had been aboard the rig for two full days, and they hadn’t uncovered anything concrete. But it hadn’t done a damn thing to ease the knot in his gut. If anything, it had made it worse.

Brett and Clint weren’t acting like men with nothing to hide. Between the constant surveillance, the carefully controlled access, and their determination to keep both him and Nova within arm’s reach of one of their people, their actions spoke louder than any evidence ever could. They were hiding something. Snow just hadn’t figured out what, or where, it was yet.

He crouched beside a pressure valve, feigning interest in the readings while his jaw tightened with frustration. Every corridor he wanted to explore, every door he wanted to open—these two were right there, watching, and reporting back to their master, no doubt.

The only real progress he had managed had come the night before. After waiting until nearly two in the morning, when most of the crew had finally turned in, he had slipped quietly from his and Nova’s room while the rig settled into its nighttime rhythm.

Moving through the shadows, he had managed to sweep the top two levels of Platform Two without drawing attention. Every maintenance room and storage closet he had been able to access had come up clean. No evidence that explained why so many federal agencies had taken such an interest in this place.

He still hadn’t been able to get anywhere near Platform Three, the place that he really wanted access to. That isn’t saying that he hadn’t tried. The night he snuck out, he tried to access it, but his key card wouldn’t work on the steel-grated door leading to the catwalk connecting Platform One to Platform Three.

Nova had pegged Brett from the moment she had met him that first night. Arrogant didn’t begin to describe the man. Calculating, controlling, and predatory were far more fitting. The polished smile and easy confidence were nothing more than a mask hiding someone who was used to getting exactly what he wanted.

Snow had seen it for himself in the way Brett smiled. He was all teeth and no warmth, like a shark circling its prey.

Just that morning, Brett had looked directly at the two men tailing Snow and said, “Make sure you stick to Platform Two. I don’t want anyone wandering where they don’t belong.”

That sentence had echoed in Snow’s mind all day. Because in his experience, the quickest way to make someone curious about a place was to tell them they weren’t allowed to go there.

“Hey,” Snow said, straightening up and wiping grease from his hands. He nodded toward a junction box mounted on the far wall. “That panel there, what does it control? The auxiliary pumps or the secondary filtration?”

The two men exchanged a look. The younger one, Dalton, scratched his head. “Uh, I think it’s the pumps?”

“You think?” Snow pressed.

Dalton’s partner, a thick-necked guy named Voss, shrugged. “Hell if I know. Capperson would know. That guy knew this rig like his own backyard.”

“Who’s that?” Snow asked.

“He was one of the engineers. Been with the crew since we started construction, like a year and a half back. He was also one of Brett’s right-hand men,” Dalton said. “Then about seven weeks ago he just disappeared. Everyone still wonders what happened to him. Dude was there one day, gone the next. Weird as hell.”

Snow kept his expression neutral, but his mind was already turning it over. One of Brett’s right-hand men just disappeared with no explanation, and the crew was still whispering about it. Men like this Capperson guy didn’t walk off an oil platform in the middle of the Gulf without anybody knowing what happened.

He made a mental note to have Nova look into his personnel records. Her cover gave her access he couldn’t touch without raising flags, and if there was a paper trail on Capperson, like a termination notice, a transfer, anything, she could find it.

Before he could press Voss for more, his phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and smiled when Nova’s name lit up the screen.

Nova: Are you free for dinner? I have something to run by you.

His gut told him this wasn’t just an excuse to share a meal. Nova’s legal mind was always working, always connecting dots everyone else overlooked. If she had discovered something, he wanted to hear it.

Besides, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to dinner and spending a little time with her.

The mission had stolen most of their time together over the last two days, leaving little more than five a.m. workouts, quick hourly texts, and the occasional conversation before one of them inevitably fell asleep. Somewhere along the way, he had started missing those conversations.

He wasn’t about to pass up the chance to have one now.

He typed back a reply.

Snow: Dinner sounds good. Give me about an hour and a half to finish up?

Nova: Perfect. See you then.

Snow grinned as he slipped his phone into his pocket and turned back to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb.