with a screech. A few pens rolled out along with a puff of dust and an assortment of discarded paper clips. He picked up one of the pens and shone the light on the lettering. Tessara Pharm. Not surprising, since it had been discovered Penelope Granger, aka Penny Winslow, was the one pulling the strings. He pocketed the pen and closed the drawer.
Jane caught the movement and moved toward him. “What’s that and why are you putting it in your pocket?”
“Calm down. It’s a pen.”
“Why are you taking it?”
“Because I am.”
She let it go, which was good. He didn’t know why he had scooped up the pen, either. “Where’s it from?” she asked.
“Tessara Pharm.”
“Ugh. That place leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Big pharm companies are usually up to no good, in my opinion.”
“Yeah, I hear you,” he agreed, moving to the next drawer and opening it. Empty. He slid his hand along the edge of the bottom, looking for anything that his brother might’ve hidden, but nothing aside from wood met his fingers. Dropping to his knees, he flashed the light beneath the desk, checking for evidence of a false bottom, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He rose with sharp disappointment, feeling as if he were missing what was right in front of him.
He thought Jane sensed his disappointment, though for a long moment, she didn’t say anything. “I understand—” she began, and he immediately cut her off.
“You don’t understand, and don’t patronize me with your attempt,” he said brusquely, moving away from the desk and flashing the light into the corners of the room.
“I’m just trying to help,” she muttered.
“Yeah, well, help by looking. There’s something here. I can feel it.”
“Great—another gut instinct. Does your gut give a clue as to where exactly we should be looking, because all I see is a sad empty room that’s as cold as a storage locker.”
Frustration built under his breastbone. “Hell, I don’t know,” he said, walking slowly over the floorboards to listen for minute changes. He walked into the small supply closet and flashed the light around. Nothing but empty shelves and dust. He stamped the floor, listening for a sound change. He explained when he caught Jane watching him with a question in her gaze. “When Miko and I were kids, we would hide things in the floorboards of our old house. We were always trying to hide alcohol or important stuff from our old man, who was a raging alcoholic. When he was sober, he was an okay dad, but when he drank...let’s just say he made living hard.” He didn’t know if Miko had held on to the habit, but it was worth a shot.
“How often did your dad drink?” she asked.
“Only on the days that ended in Y.”
“Sorry.” She seemed to mean it. “So what’d you hide?”
“Anything we didn’t want him to sell or break. Sometimes we hid money, too. Otherwise, our dad would drink it all away and we’d have nothing left for food.”
“That’s rough.”
He shrugged. “Everyone’s got a sob story, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“How about yours? I can only go from what I know firsthand, but your dad seems like a piece of work. Couldn’t have been easy growing up with The Major.”
“Oh, is this sharing time?” She lifted her brow. When he hiked his shoulder, she shook her head, not ready to reciprocate. “Let’s just focus on the task at hand, all right?”
“I’m curious.... How happy was your dad when you broke things off with me? He probably threw a ticker-tape parade.”
“My dad doesn’t like showy extravagances,” she answered, flashing her light along the ceiling, looking anywhere but at Holden. “And he’d never do anything that gave anyone the impression you mattered in the overall scheme of things.”
“What was his problem? As far as I know, I never pissed in his cornflakes.”
“Are we doing this now?” she asked, annoyed. “It’s in the past and we’re here to do a job. Story hour will have to wait.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and continued to slowly pan the floor. Why was he looking for answers to a mystery that didn’t need solving? Who cares if some self-important asshole didn’t think he was good enough for his daughter? “But here’s the thing, you dropped me like a bad habit all because Daddy said so. Frankly, Fallon, I thought you had bigger balls than that.”
She stopped and met his gaze. “My balls, or lack thereof, are none of your business. Can we please stick to the task at hand, or would you rather pull up a chair and start a counseling session? I should warn you, I’m all out of tissues.”
“You’re a piece of work. You did me a favor,” he muttered, unable to believe he’d opened his mouth in the first place. “Forget I mentioned it.”
“Already have.”
Damn, he was stupid ten times over for bringing up ancient history at the worst possible time. But sometimes his mouth just took over and he had to run to catch up. Sort of like the day he’d taken it upon himself to have a talk with The Major. Yeah, that’d ended in all sorts of bad. He supposed good intentions didn’t mean crap in the Fallon household. Holden’s first real, solid relationship had gone down in flames all because some crotchety five-starred major general had really messed up ideals and expectations for his only daughter.
Holden looked at Jane. “You know, I feel sorry for you.” Jane regarded him with a wary expression, but he continued. “Yeah, I do, because you’re constantly looking for Daddy’s approval and you’ve obviously never seen the movie before. Well, I have, and I can tell you—it never ends the way you want it to. Your dad is an overbearing prick and he’ll never give you what you’re looking—no, begging—for, yet you’ll sacrifice everything in your life for that one tiny nugget of approval from a man who ought to just love you for who you are. And it’s sad, Fallon. Really sad.”
She swallowed audibly and he knew he’d hit a nerve, but in true Fallon style, she didn’t bend or show weakness. “Are you finished?” she asked in a husky tone that immediately made him feel like a toad. What the hell was wrong with him? He should’ve just left it alone. What did it matter what her issues with her dad were? They didn’t affect him any longer. Jane was free to live under her father’s thumb if she chose.
He waved her off. “Forget it. I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m sorry...that was out of line. I guess I’m just on edge.”
“Sure.” She accepted his apology with a stiff nod and walked away as they both continued to search the office.
After ten minutes, Holden rose with a muttered expletive. “You’re right, nothing’s here.”
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Jane said, heading for the door. Although she had a reputation for being a hard-nosed investigator, she was plainly happy to get out of the room. Seemed Jane wasn’t immune to the heebie-jeebies.
Holden took one final look at his brother’s office, trying not to picture him sprawled across his desk with the back of his head shot off. Nathan had said in his statement that moments prior to Miko eating that bullet, he had told Nathan to dig deeper into Tessara Pharm. Nathan Isaacs, one of Miko’s best friends and fellow snipers formerly employed by the now-defunct I.D., had managed to peel back a layer of corruption within the covert government agency, but he’d nearly died in the process.
Holden caught up with Jane on the stairs. “I didn’t see any mention of Tessara Pharm in your report aside from the brief notation about Winslow. Didn’t you ask any questions regarding Miko’s involvement with the pharm company?”
“What involvement? Winslow was the only