Lori Harris L.

Set Up With The Agent


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leads with little progress. Recently, because continued Intel hasn’t picked up any mention of the theft or the weapon, we had started to theorize that Thesing may have had second thoughts and either destroyed the MX141 or possibly hidden it somewhere. That his death had been a result of his refusal to turn it over to the buyer.”

      Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on his knees and met her gaze. “And then just this morning I received a call from Rabbit Rheaume’s attorney. Rheaume claimed to have been approached in early July by a man looking to sell MX141. In exchange for the prosecution dropping a number of charges, Rheaume would give us his identity.”

      Her shoulders dropped slightly. “And now Rabbit is dead?” As if she’d noticed his previous interest in her legs, she tugged at the hem of the navy-blue skirt, tucking one ankle in even more tightly behind the other.

      It was a prim-and-proper pose that he suspected she’d perfected during the years when she’d acted as her father’s unofficial hostess following her mother’s death.

      “And you don’t really think it’s a coincidence. You think whoever has the chemical weapon knew Rheaume was about to give him up?”

      “The timing and the way it went down certainly leaves open the possibility.”

      Her eyes narrowed. “How did it happen?”

      “An inmate using a shiv got Rabbit in the jugular. He was dead before prison guards could get to him.”

      “And the inmate? Did you question him?”

      “Didn’t get the chance. A guard shot him.” Mark clasped his hands in front of him. “Right now we’re interviewing any recent visitors the inmate had, but there’s only a few and none of them look promising.”

      Her eyes narrowed. “If it was a hit, someone would have needed to contact him to set it up, wouldn’t they?”

      “Sure. But it looks as if there may have been a middle man, another inmate who was involved. A go-between. Who, even if we’re lucky enough to ID him, obviously isn’t going to talk. At least not right away.”

      She nodded. “So you’re hoping I can help in some way?”

      “At the time of the theft and the possible contact between our unsub and Rheaume, you would have still been working the money laundering case. Any chance you saw or heard anything?”

      Beth’s mouth tightened briefly before she answered. “I saw and heard a lot during those eighteen months as Rabbit’s assistant, but unfortunately, none of it pointed to Rabbit’s involvement in the sale of any type of weapon, even assault rifles. And certainly nothing like a chemical weapon.”

      Obviously it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “You’re certain?”

      “Absolutely certain?” She hedged. “No. Of course not. Even though I was involved in most aspects of his business, I imagine there were instances where that wasn’t the case. Rabbit was the cautious sort. He built himself a pretty good niche business laundering money for half a dozen mid-level drug traffickers. He wouldn’t do business with large ones because they were the ones the feds were after. And he refused to take on a partner. Which is why he managed to fly under the radar for so many years and why it was so difficult to get the evidence needed to prosecute him. All that being said, though, I just can’t see his having the type of contacts who would deal in chemical weapons.”

      She leaned back. “My guess, for what it’s worth, is Rabbit somehow heard about the theft and decided to use it to his advantage.”

      This time when her mouth tightened, his gaze lingered on her lips for several seconds before he caught himself and forced his eyes to meet hers again. “A deal would have been contingent on the info panning out.”

      “Even if it didn’t, he would have had some fun messing with the feds. Rabbit likes—” She broke off to correct herself. “Rabbit liked to mess with people. He really enjoyed watching them squirm. He was cruel like that.”

      She glanced away, her voice dropping. “One minute he’d be chatting you up, the next he’d have your face in the dirt and a gun muzzle planted against the back of your skull.”

      Because he’d read her file, he knew she was speaking from personal experience.

      Getting to her feet, she motioned toward the kitchen. “The coffee should be ready by now. If you’re in a hurry,” she said over her shoulder, “I can put it in a to-go cup.”

      She wanted him gone. Unfortunately, there was at least one more thing he needed to discuss with her. “No. I’m not in any hurry.”

      After pouring two cups, she handed one to him, then retreated with the other to lean against the opposite counter. The harsh fluorescent lighting revealed the shadows beneath her eyes. She’d had a rough night, maybe a couple of rough years. Eighteen months undercover, constantly on edge, continually fearful of taking a wrong step, would have been a difficult assignment for even a seasoned agent, let alone one with just over a year’s worth of experience.

      Why had she been chosen for the assignment?

      He set his cup on the counter. “I think there may be one possibility you haven’t yet considered.”

      “What’s that?” She blew on her coffee.

      “If Rabbit Rheaume wasn’t lying, if he was killed to keep him from talking…Maybe it wasn’t Rabbit behind what happened to you tonight.”

      Something flashed briefly in her eyes. Renewed fear maybe, but then it was gone. She took a quick sip and then lowered the cup. “So you’re theorizing that whoever silenced Rabbit is now trying to do the same to me? Because he believes I know something?”

      “I think you have to consider the possibility. Especially given that Rabbit contacted us today and not a week from now. Why, after arranging your death, not wait to hear if Leon Tyber was successful? If he had been, there’d have been no need to contact us. To get messed up in any of this. At least, that’s my understanding. That without your testimony there was a good chance the prosecution wouldn’t get a conviction.”

      She seemed to contemplate what he’d said for several seconds, and then just as quickly discarded it. “Thanks for the warning, but I’m putting my money on Rabbit. And even if I’m wrong, whoever your unsub is, he’s not stupid. He’s got to realize that if I did have any information, I would have already shared it. If not before tonight, certainly during this visit.”

      Looking down at her coffee, she pushed away from the cabinetry before lifting her chin, meeting his eyes. “Besides, nothing has really changed. I’ve been looking over my shoulder for months now. I’ll just keep doing it.”

      Her calm composure didn’t particularly surprise him. In essence, she was right. Nothing had really changed for her. “It still might be a good idea to stay with a friend for the next few days. Or maybe even your father. If you want, I could talk to Bill Monroe about a few days—”

      She cut him off, her voice sharp. “I’ll be fine.” Her mouth briefly tightened as if she regretted her tone. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep.”

      “That’s not a bad idea. For both of us. I have an early flight tomorrow, and I’m sure after everything that’s happened, you must be beat.”

      She remained silent. He’d been about to suggest he could sleep on her couch, an offer that, given everything he’d seen and heard to date, she wasn’t likely to appreciate.

      He dumped what remained of his coffee into the stainless steel sink. But when he turned back to her, something in her expression stopped him from heading for the door. “What is it?”

      Beth’s eyes narrowed. “Did Rabbit say he’d actually met with the seller?”

      “Why?”

      “There was one call.” She started to bring the mug up to her lips again, but then suddenly lowered it. “It came in on July fifth.