Out of the Mist (Can't Help Falling Book 1) Read online

  "Anything we find is evidence." Finn's neutral, logical, pleasant voice intruded on her fury.

  "We had a deal," she accused. "I lead you here . . . you help me get home."

  When Finn raised an eyebrow, Matt shook his head. "No deal, Jules." His eyes flashed with frustration— as though it were somehow her fault he'd lied to her. "You assist with this investigation or we'll park you in a jail cell— suspicion of drug trafficking." He nodded to the door. "If there's a body in there . . . suspicion of murder."

  Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded. Matt's rigid expression eased momentarily.

  "See? It's better to cooperate." His fleeting grin mocked her.

  An insult left her lips before she could stop it.

  "That's anatomically impossible." He held her gaze before turning to study the scene.

  Humiliation warred with despair as she retreated to the sidewalk. Her ankle aching, she sank to the pavement. Willing herself not to cry, she shut her eyes to the scene before her, still hearing Matt's mocking voice in her head.

  ***

  "These prints are fresh." Matt squatted to the concrete floor, forcing Julie's anguished expression from his head. Those eyes. Drenched with betrayal. How did she manage to appear innocent when the evidence kept mounting against her?

  Damn her— what was he supposed to do? Just believe her? That would go over great with his boss. And Mullaney . . . if he ever showed up to finally take her off his hands.

  "Dude, you were a little harsh."

  Great. Finn, too? "She doesn't seem to understand she's our prime suspect." Releasing an aggravated sigh, he reviewed the pattern of footprints visible near the door, comparing them with his own. Jaw tight, he jerked his camera from the evidence kit. "Keep an eye on her. She'll probably get it in her head to run."

  "I think it's a little early to assume she's our suspect." Finn measured off the space, adding notes to the margins. "She's obviously involved somehow-"

  Like he needed the kid to tell him that? "I just said that to scare her," he interrupted, hoping O'Brien would take the hint. Resigned to the apology he'd have to make, he risked a glance to where Julie sat on the sidewalk. Eyes scrunched shut, she still leaned toward their voices. Despite her anger, her interest was piqued.

  "Get as many pictures as possible." The interior of the warehouse smelled musty and dead. "Once we open this place up, it'll never look like this again." Finn was studying a work bench in the corner. "What've you got?"

  "Bloodstain over here. We'll get DNA." He waved a hand in front of his face. "There's so much heroin floating in the air, I'm getting dizzy."

  Matt frowned. "Is that a cell phone?"

  "Yeah. Minus the battery." Finn cocked his head toward the tarp. "Wanna bet that's her car?"

  Why would Matias leave Julie's stuff behind? Matt slid his mind into that of the perp. The battery made sense. No GPS trace. But why leave the rest? "If she surprised him— then Matias still had to pack the drugs," he reasoned. "Maybe he planned to get rid of her stuff later?"

  Finn concentrated on the footprints. "He came back . . . but he was in a hurry."

  Matt studied the pattern, moving carefully outside the perimeter. "And he wasn't alone."

  "It's not Viper's style to send one guy." O'Brien squatted to the floor for a closer look, restless energy seeming to vibrate from him. "Munoz probably had a posse."

  "Let's assume Viper was ticked," Matt suggested. "That explains Matias returning to the hospital. He messed up the hit and had to fix it."

  Finn's gaze narrowed. "Then he bumps into you— and screws up again." The kid stared at him, thoughts racing behind his eyes. "Maybe the crew was here to hit him."

  O'Brien's voice carried because Julie flinched and rose to her feet. Matt watched her limp closer to the building. Satisfied she wasn't about to run, he crossed the room. "Let's check under the tarp."

  When Finn flipped the wall switch a fluorescent bulb hummed to life— a reminder to check the power bills for this address.

  "Can I move yet?" Her anger with him apparently gone, Julie's voice held curiosity.

  "No." The answer was in chorus as Matt traced the bottom of the tarp with his toe. Behind the concealed object was a rusted bay door. If there was a vehicle under the tarp, it had been driven into the building through there. Removing a tool from his back pocket, he peeled back the tarp.

  "It smells bad in here." She lifted a hand to her nose.

  That would be the dead guy. He was in the building . . . somewhere. Arm stretched to lift the tarp, Matt paused. An expression of dread crossed O'Brien's serious face. Interesting. The kid was squeamish.

  "Got a tan Ford under here." Still using the tool, he pulled the canvas back over the roof. "Can you ID it?"

  Eyes wide, she nodded. "My purse— is it on the passenger seat?"

  Careful not to touch the vehicle, Matt leaned in, hands cupped around his eyes. "It's black? Sort of . . . shiny?"

  In her eagerness, she took a step closer.

  "Don't," he warned. "That mess on the floor is evidence." Her purse on the front seat. Wallet— directions. Everything.

  Freezing in her tracks, Julie's frustration was palpable. "Can I at least have my phone?"

  "It's all evidence, Jules." Exasperated, he glanced at her. "Your purse. The stuff inside your purse. You can't touch anything."

  Behind the car, Finn maneuvered the trunk with a slim jim. When the trunk popped, his head whipped back in surprise. "Oh, shit."

  Face suddenly green, the kid's mouth clamped in a forbidding line. Matt quickly followed when he bolted for the door.

  "What is it?" Julie's expression held curiosity. "Did they steal my spare, too?"

  Hand at her back, he nudged her out the door. "Probably not a good idea to be downwind."

  Moments later, she clapped a hand to her nose as the smell of decay drifted their way. "Oh, God-"

  "Honey, there's more than a spare in there." The old man was no longer missing.

  ***

  "Drug residue everywhere. Liftable footprints in the dust," Matt catalogued the information to his SAC. "At least one body in the trunk but it's wrapped up. We don't want to move it." The identity would have to wait until the forensics unit arrived. According to Leo, they were about thirty minutes behind Mullaney. "Evidence of multiple parties present."

  Away from the smell of death that sent him running, Finn studied the facade of the building, searching for trace in the parking area. Jules had been temporarily locked in the car for safekeeping. Exhaustion warring with relief, she hadn't put up much fight.

  "Anything else?" Leo's voice disrupted his thoughts.

  "Yeah— Julie said Munoz spoke the night he dumped her on the side of the road." He relayed her story.

  "Vibora. You're sure?" The incessant pen-clicking ceased on the other end of the line. "It means serpent. Or— viper."

  His neck suddenly prickling in the eerie stillness, Matt listened to his boss with one ear. Though she was safely locked in the car, the urgency to double-check was too strong to ignore. His reaction made little sense, but he'd followed his instincts for too many years to disregard them now. Disconnecting with his boss, he strode to the parking lot.

  "She's fine." Finn didn't look up from what he was doing. "She fell asleep a few minutes ago."

  Tension still gripping him, Matt forced himself to change direction, joining Finn where he studied the gravel parking lot. After relaying the information from Leo, Finn digested the news.

  "So Munoz mentions Viper as he's getting rid of Julie." He glanced to the car where she slept. "Was he getting rid of Julie because Viper ordered it? Or because she's Viper?"

  Matt surveyed their isolated surroundings. "Hit her so he can take over?" Drug lord was the riskiest job title on the planet. No matter how many guards they employed, no cartel leader was ever safe. From rival gangs or their own upwardly mobile employees. "If she's Viper, her company would be good cover."

  "Her company is worth
eight million." Finn shot him a look. "You really think she needs the money?"

  Matt refused to analyze the relief washing over him. He didn't want her to be involved. That much, he could admit. "Okay, so if it's not her— is someone using Ktec as cover?"

  "The marketing guy?" Finn wandered a few feet, his gaze back on the ground.

  "Or Dandridge."

  "The lawyer who took over." O'Brien squatted to the ground, examining an indentation. "Something weird there. How did he manage to take over the damn company?"

  "She was your age when her dad died." Matt peered over his shoulder. "One day he's there, handling everything. The next— she's left in charge?"

  "We need to look into that," Finn interrupted. "What if her father was involved?"

  He glanced toward the car. "Yeah. It crossed my mind." But it would require finesse. Before he'd seek permission to exhume his body, they'd need to review the medical examiner's file. For now, Julie was managing enough stress. Discovering her father might have been involved would be bad enough. But learning he might've been murdered to gain control of his company-

  "What are you looking at?" Pushing aside another possible twist to the case, he acknowledged his brain was on overload. Focus on the question at hand. At least one dead body in the building. And Finn was clearly sensing something. Crime scene work was slow and painstaking, requiring a level of patience Matt didn't possess. But his best friend's step-brother had an abundance of it.

  "See this?" Finn extracted a pencil from behind his ear, making a notation on his pad. "The way I see it, she parked around here." He pointed to a barely visible indentation in the dirt. "Next to another car."

  "Maybe it's the woman she claims was here?" Finn retraced his steps, passing the agency car where Julie slept.

  "The coworker. Tori." Risking a glance, Matt experienced relief on seeing her curled up, her face peaceful in the patch of sunlight. "As long as she's sleeping, she isn't talking" he muttered.

  O'Brien smirked. "I'd imagine the Victoria's Secret body sorta makes up for the overactive mouth?"

  "I hadn't noticed," he lied, his face suddenly heating.

  The kid chuckled. "Right. Uber-hot blondes— definitely not my thing." Finn led him to another spot in the dirt. "Okay— so check this out."

  "You gave up your PhD to do this?"

  A smile creased his serious face, making him appear even younger. "Postponed. It started getting boring."

  "You talk to TJ lately? Where's he stationed?"

  "You know Teag. Everything's classified." Finn's expression underwent a startling change. While his smile remained, his eyes went flat and cold. "Always was— even before he made Special Forces."

  He'd forgotten the long ago issues between Teagan and Finn. Hell, the falling out had been years earlier. But clearly still unresolved. His new partner and his oldest friend. Matt had zero interest in jumping in the middle.

  Finn pointed out a faint impression in the dust. "You believe her story about being knocked out?"

  "911 reports that night of an arm waving from the taillight of an old Plymouth." Julie's battered face floated before his eyes. "And she was found with a pretty nasty head injury."

  O'Brien dropped to one knee. "Then I can narrow down the vehicle big-time."

  "The kidnap vehicle?"

  "Uh-huh." Sunlight glinted off his auburn head.

  "How the hell are you getting that from a shadow in the dirt?" Matt crossed his arms. "You can't pull a useable tread-"

  "Not after the rain," Finn dismissed. "Both prints are the same level of deterioration."

  "What are you seeing that I don't?"

  "I'm a car guy." Finn tipped his head back, shading his eyes from the sun. "After the eighties, very few cars were manufactured with taillights that weren't welded into the frame. Plymouth was one of them. I'm thinkin' we're looking for '93 to '97. Maybe a Duster because they were popular."

  "Genius." Matt pulled out his phone. Something Jonas could look into. A VIN on the car— asuming it was from the Marsh Point area. Maybe a title trail that hadn't been covered. Viper hid his transactions behind layers of LLCs and fronting companies. But there was always the hope that a tiny detail had escaped notice. Like a power bill. An old junked car. Or the property tax records. Someone owned this place.

  His mind already shifting to the next item on an endless list, he was startled by the tap on his arm.

  Finn— motioning to get Julie from the car. "Someone's coming."

  It took a full moment before instinct kicked in. Jerking the door open, he hauled her out, her warm, fragrant body dead weight in his arms as she was jarred awake. "Jules— wake up."

  "No— what are you-" Confusion, then terror made her flail against him.

  "We need to hide." Half dragging, half carrying, they stumbled into the woods behind the building. His entire being focused on the approaching car. Shoving Julie back, he drew his gun.

  His senses throttled open as time slowed to nano-seconds. A part of his brain knew she stumbled and fell to the ground. Finn had taken up position ten yards away. "Stay down," he ordered. Down low. Smaller target. He heard the safety on Finn's Sig Sauer as the agent prepared for the next sixty seconds.

  Tires crunching the gravel lot, the nondescript car pulled in near theirs. His gun trained on the driver's door, Matt didn't blink. When the door swung open, he steeled himself.

  "I know you're out there, Magic. Lower that gun or you'll regret it."

  Adrenaline screeching to a halt as he recognized the rasping voice, Matt glanced to O'Brien and nodded. Lowering his weapon, he glanced down at Julie. Her back against the tree, tense features strained, she closed her eyes in relief.

  "Dammit, Mullaney— you should've called."

  ***

  Chapter 7

  Rising from the mossy ground, Julie staggered to her feet. "That's okay . . . I'm fine." Matt and Agent O'Brien had re-holstered their guns while striding toward the new arrival. "You two just go off and . . . whatever." Nerves stretched taut as she expelled several quaking breaths, Julie acknowledged she was as close to losing it as she'd ever been. Her heart still in holy-shit-we-need-to-run mode, she pressed a hand to her chest.

  Agent Barnes, on the other hand, was acting as though it was just another day at the office. Deep in conversation with the graying, wizened man who'd caused them to flee a few minutes earlier, she was surprised to hear Matt chuckling with the man whose nose made him resemble an angry buzzard.

  Where did she go from here? The discovery of her car had seemed like a breakthrough. Until Finn found a body in her trunk. When he'd explained— aka lectured her— on why they couldn't touch anything, she'd been patient. Until Barnes had denied access to her stuff. Her phone, ID, her damn credit cards . . . which she could be using right now to make her way back to Boston. She glanced back to the warehouse. Her possessions . . . fifty yards away. And she couldn't have them. Her freedom within reach. Yet unreachable.

  By the time Matt's state police friend Mullaney arrived, he was just one more person who glanced at her before moving on to the more interesting stuff. Another day of her life sifting away. Another day KTec was rudderless. How long would it take before Dandridge stepped in?

  A shudder tore through her. Was Tori safe or still missing? Had Bernie Lambeth lured her to the warehouse as well? Troubled, she drummed restless fingers against the rough bark of the tree she leaned against.

  A moment later she held her breath, wary as Matt approached. "The forensics team wants to move the car but they need you to ID it for them."

  "I thought I already did. It's my stuff on the front seat-"

  "Miss Kimball," he cut her off. "Could you just come with me?"

  If he was back to 'Miss Kimball', things must be pretty bad. Julie offered him her coldest I-mean-business stares while acknowledging the fear clutching her stomach. "May I remind you, Agent Barnes, I'm not guilty of anything?"

  Matt's smile was tight. "Jules, you are in a mountain of trouble.
"

  Her life was spinning out of control. And the guy who'd promised to help would likely be the one arresting her.

  "According to the forensics team, not only are there two dead men in your trunk," he reminded, "but it appears you've been transporting heroin in your company car."

  Agent O'Brien arrived as Matt continued to eye her suspiciously. In contrast to Matt's antagonism, Finn was smooth professionalism. "The team is waiting."

  Rooted to the spot, she felt Matt's hand at her back. With a gentle push, they entered the gloomy warehouse. "Let's go."

  Teeth chattering, she reluctantly faced the memory she'd dreaded. When they skirted a tagged area of scuffled footprints, she froze.

  Matt's touch intensified when she swayed. "You okay?"

  "I fought him h-here."

  "Was it only Munoz?"

  Julie hesitated, then veered right. "Someone was there." She pointed to a doorway leading into a small office. "Watching."

  Finn turned. "Did the person touch anything— the door frame?"

  Forcing herself to remember when all she wanted was to forget, she drifted closer to the doorway. "He leaned there."

  "Male?" Agent O'Brien directed a tech to the area she pointed out. "My height? Shorter?"

  She risked a glance at Matt. His guarded expression made her heart plummet. He'd reverted back to being her enemy. "More like him but not as . . . bulky."

  "I think my feelings are hurt."

  Heat rose in her cheeks. 'Built' would have been a better word to describe Agent Barnes. Followed closely by suspicious. Impatient. Annoying. Strong. Sexy. "He was . . . smaller, like a medium instead of large."

  Finn's voice floated back as they neared the car. "We'd like you to ID the bodies, too."

  A tremor coursed through her. "Bodies?" She'd forgotten there was a person— people dead. Her knees buckled at the thought. "I h-have to-" Julie raised a hand to her mouth. "I might be sick-"

  ***

  Matt shoved her through the door. She needed air, fast. Because if she puked, he'd pretty much be done for. Slumped to the sidewalk, she dragged in panting breaths, her forehead damp with perspiration. Squatting next to her, he resisted the urge to stroke the silky spot he'd discovered at the nape of her neck. He seriously needed to regain a grip on his waning professionalism. Too many eyes were watching. "Jules? You okay?"