Page 108 of Her Selfless Warrior (Omega Sky)
“My house, therefore my grill. No comments from the peanut gallery.”
Kostya rolled his eyes, then turned his attention back to Lark.
She’d brought her laptop in as well as her many notepads. It was damned cute how many pencils she had lined up. He and the other guys had smothered chuckles when she’d pulled out her electric pencil sharpener. At his question, Lark grabbed one of her notepads and started leafing through it.
Gideon looked up from his laptop. “I checked the employment records at Sanofi, and Rick’s down for short-term disability. Apparently, he had gallbladder surgery.”
Kostya watched with a smile as they all frowned. “Apparently, none of you have had to fill out paperwork on behalf of one of your employees. Schroeder must have phoned that in and handed it to HR.”
“Wouldn’t he be trying to get ahold of Rick?” Amy asked through the phone’s speaker.
“Definitely,” Lark answered. “What’s worse, I think that these men with accents might be visiting the other Sanofi employees. Gideon, can you check to see if any of the others have gone on short-term disability?”
Ryker flipped the steaks and Kostya’s stomach growled as they waited for Gideon to answer the question.
“Got it,” Gideon looked up from his laptop, his brown eyes gleaming. “Guy named Mel Stanley had a pretty traumatic skiing accident. It really fucked him up. Broken bones and lots of lacerations. He’s been in the hospital for two weeks. Then there’s Donald Harkins. Supposedly he was in a car with a friend, but he was thrown during the crash and the friend left him for dead and drove off. This was ten days ago. He’s not expected to make it.”
Lark shivered.
“Enough of this shit. I need to bring in my friend from the FBI. Rick Turner was in charge of engineers who were working for the Missile Defense Agency. I would bet my bottom dollar that whoever is doing all the killing and maiming is after code from that project.”
Kostya nodded as did his two men.
“Amy, honey, I’m going to have to cut this phone call short. I have to call Trevor over at the FBI. This can’t wait another minute.”
“Understood. Be safe, Lark. Make those idiots take care of you. Just because they’re all brawny military types doesn’t mean they have this in the bag. Especially any goof with the last name McQueen; that shit just sounds made up to me.”
“Listen here, pipsqueak—”
Lark cut the connection before Ryker could say anything more.
“Dammit, Ryker, I think I smell my steak burning,” Kostya grumbled.
