Chapter 6

Elena’s hand tightened on the sandwich, squishing the bread, and she deliberately eased her grip as tuna salad oozed out from between the slices.

“You mean Arnold Blake?”

“Yes. Any insights into what might have happened?”

“You’re the security chief.”

“It was before my time, and the police don’t have any leads.”

Her mouth had gone dry, and she took a sip of tea. “I didn’t know him well,” she managed to say.

“Did he seem suspicious to you?”

That might be an opening to say something about the emails Arnold had sent her. But then what?

“No,” she responded as she turned her sandwich in her hand, wishing she could get up and walk back to work. Shane Gallagher had put her on edge as soon as he’d started talking to her today. Then he’d fooled her into relaxing before springing a question about Arnold Blake. Or maybe she shouldn’t put it that way.

Maybe he saw that he’d spooked her because he leaned back in his chair, focusing on his sandwich for a while and eating some of the potato salad. She took some of the salad, too.

She finished most of her sandwich, saving the edges of the bread. She was annoyed with herself for acting nervous around him. He didn’t know about her damn dream. And she wasn’t going to talk about Arnold Blake.

Arnold had been in his early sixties when he died. He had been friendly to her when she came to S&D. She’d thought of him as a mentor because he’d shown her the ropes in the IT department. And she’d come to him with questions when she was finding her way.

He was married, and she had no intention of getting involved with him outside of work. But he’d started a correspondence with her that wasn’t strictly work related. He’d sent her little jokes, and he’d been into puzzles. He was designing them, calling them SIMon Sez, and sometimes he’d run answers by her. But that was about as far as it went with them.

Because her mother had made her superstitious about discussing the dead, she didn’t want to talk about any of that with Shane. Instead, she walked to the edge of the lake and broke the bread crusts into pieces, throwing the bits into the water. The mom duck paddled over, and the babies followed. Smiling, she fed the little family, watching them scrabble around for the food.

Shane came up beside her, and to her relief, he didn’t ask any more questions about Blake.

“You like animals?”

“Yes. That’s one of the things I miss in the States. There were lots more animals around back home. I loved to watch the babies with the mommas.” She looked at her watch. “This was a nice break, but I should get back to work.”

“I’m sorry if I kept you from something you needed to do.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just stay a little late.”

“Sorry,” he said again.

The conversation had petered out. For a little while, she’d felt closer to him. Now she reminded herself that she had no business thinking about him as anything but the company chief of security. They drove back to the S&D building without speaking.

“Thanks,” she said as she got out at the front door and hurried back to her desk.

As soon as she was out of his sight, she was angry with herself for being so off balance. She wanted to be a normal, self-assured American woman. She’d reached that status in her work. Now she had to do the same with her personal relationships. But she didn’t have a personal relationship with Shane, she reminded herself. Just a fantasy relationship. That silent observation made her snort.

* * *

Shane dragged in a breath and let it out as he watched Elena hurry into the building. She’d been on edge with him, and he needed to know why. Because she was deep into something illegal that she was afraid the security chief was going to discover? If that was the case, she could be in danger, which gave him another reason to find out what had prompted her reaction to him.

Or was he just looking for excuses to maintain contact with her because that’s what he secretly wanted?

He spent the rest of the afternoon working on background checks, putting in extra time because he felt guilty about…something. He wasn’t sure what.

Elena had told him she might work late, too. When he finally made his way down to the parking lot, she was standing beside her car, looking around with a disturbed expression on her face.

Wondering what was wrong, he hurried over. By the time he reached her vehicle, she was inside again, trying to start the vehicle, but the sound told him she wasn’t having any success.

Leaning down, he rapped on the driver’s side window of Elena’s car.

Her head jerked up. When she saw it was him, she rolled down her window.

“Shane. What are you doing here?”

“I was working late, too. It sounds like you’re having problems.”

She tightened her hands on the wheel. “My car won’t start.”

“I can take a look.”

She gave him a grateful look as he walked around to the front of the vehicle.

“Open the hood release,” he said.

As he leaned in and looked at the engine, he could see her watching him through the crack between the hood and the bottom of the window. The worry in her eyes made his chest tighten because he was thinking this might give him an opportunity he’d been looking for. He clamped his teeth together as he reached to touch a few engine parts, then shook his head. “I guess I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“I’ll have to call a tow truck.”

He looked around the almost empty parking lot. “It’s late, and I don’t want you hanging around here by yourself. I’ll wait with you.”

He saw her consider the offer.

“I don’t want to put you to any trouble. You probably want to get home.”

“Why don’t you let me drive you home, and you can take care of the problem in the morning?”

She thought that over, then finally nodded, climbed out of her car, and locked the door behind her.

“Do you have a tissue?” he asked. To emphasize his problem, he rubbed his thumb across his fingers.

She was instantly contrite, making him feel even guiltier.

“You got your hands dirty. I’m sorry.” Digging into her purse, she found a tissue pack and gave him one. He wiped at his hands, but of course he couldn’t get all the grime off.

“Where do you live?” he asked as they walked back to his car. Did he see a vehicle at the edge of the parking lot with its lights on? A car pulled the wrong way across several spaces. As he looked in that direction, the driver started the engine and drove off.

“Luckily, not far,” Elena was saying. She gave him directions to a downscale garden apartment complex only a few miles from the S&D office. “I probably could have walked.”

“Not a great idea.” As he turned into the complex, he looked toward the side of the road. “There are no sidewalks here.”

“There are—in front of the buildings.”

“Which one is yours?” he asked as he made the turn off the main road. He hadn’t been to the location before, and he thought he’d categorize it as lower middle class. The yellow-brick buildings looked to be at least fifty years old, each with a metal balcony. Some had a couple of plastic chairs on them. Other balconies were obviously being used for excess storage. And some sported bicycles.

She glanced up, maybe judging his reaction.

“It’s not fancy.”

“It probably doesn’t matter once you get inside.”

She directed him to a building at one end of the complex. When he pulled up, she immediately reached for the door handle.

“Do you think I could come in and wash my hands?” he asked.

When she answered, “Of course,” he got the feeling that she wished he’d simply drive away.

Instead he turned into a nearby space and cut the engine.

They both got out, and she turned rapidly away, leading him toward the front entrance, where she stopped to get her mail, then took him up a flight of concrete steps to the second floor.

“A good location,” he remarked. “I mean, better than the basement for safety—and not so far to climb as to the top.”

“But I do sometimes hear people in the apartment above me walking around.” She gave him a quick smile. “And of course, it’s possible a guy on a rope could swing down from the room above and crash through the window.”

He laughed. “Yeah, but unlikely.”

After unlocking the door, she switched on the light, and they both stepped inside. She walked a few paces away as he looked around, then breathed out a small sigh as he made a professional judgment. If she was pulling in extra money because she was stealing information from S&D, it didn’t look like she was spending it on herself.

The furnishings were inexpensive, probably even secondhand. Some of them were like the furniture he’d rented for his own apartment. But there was really no comparison. He hardly noticed or cared about his surroundings. She obviously wanted to make her living space into a real home, and she’d worked hard to do it on a budget. She’d found some unusual pieces, like the carved sideboard, and added a lot of touches, like bright throws and pillows that gave the place an unexpected warmth.

But he wasn’t simply admiring the decorative effects. He was also looking for a place where he could leave the bug he’d been carrying around, thinking he’d use it if he got the opportunity. He might have put it in her office at S&D. But he hadn’t thought there was much chance she’d talk out of turn there. Her apartment was a much better bet.

Elena saw him taking the place in, and the expression on her face told him that she cared what he thought about her efforts.

“This is charming.”

“Thanks.” She raised a hand and let it fall back to her side. “I’m paying off some student loans. The decorating style is early cheap.”

“But you’ve done a good job with it. It looks like you have a flair for design.”

“Thank you,” she said in a low voice. He was fairly sure she wasn’t comfortable with him being there. And he was thinking that the sooner he left, the better, before he did something he shouldn’t. And what would that be, exactly? He managed to keep his mind from going there.

He held up his still-dirty hands. “Which way to the bathroom?”

“Down the hall.”

He looked in the direction she’d indicated, still thinking about the bug in his pocket. If he got her to fix him something to drink, he could probably plant it then.

“Do you have a rag I can use?” he asked. “I don’t want to get grease on your towels.”

She brought him a piece of terrycloth, then left him alone to soap his hands.

He looked around while he worked on the grime. It was a standard apartment bathroom, but she’d given it a lot of personality—with a rainbow-colored shower curtain and small ceramic figurines on a wicker shelf sitting on the toilet tank top.

He got most of the grease off and wrung out the towel, then draped it over the edge of the tub.

He was just fumbling in his pocket for the listening device when a loud rap at the front door made him go still.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was after seven. So, who was dropping in on Elena this evening? Not someone with a key.

He heard her walk to the door and hesitate a moment before opening it. She stepped rapidly back as someone barreled into the apartment.

A sharp male voice spoke. Shane could tell by the inflection that a question was being asked. But he didn’t know what the guy had said because he’d spoken in Spanish.

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