Critical Doubt Read online

  What else?

  Paul's words rang through his head once more: I fell for the lie.

  Were Mason and Hank working some other plan that Paul and Todd knew nothing about?

  After Paul had been shot, Hank and Mason might have decided Todd was a liability. They might not trust that Todd would continue to be loyal if he heard what had happened to Paul, what had almost happened to him and Savannah. They might have changed the plan since last night's events.

  He paced around the alley, feeling the sounds beginning to build in his head. He couldn't let them in. He couldn't afford an attack now. He had to keep it together.

  "Ryker."

  Savannah's sharp voice cut through the fog building in his head.

  "What?" he snapped back.

  "Are you all right?"

  "I told you to stop asking me that."

  "I'll take that as a no," she said, annoyance in her gaze now. "Here's what's happening. Parisa is calling Spear right now." She tipped her head toward Parisa, who had stepped away to make her call. "We'll stop any shipments from leaving the facility today."

  "Good."

  "Then Parisa will head back to the office with Todd, where he'll be interrogated. You and I are going across the street to check out the motel and see if the guys left anything behind."

  Her calm, logical words drove away the creeping wave of incoming bells. She had a plan, and he needed to take action, to keep moving forward. "Fine," he said shortly.

  "Savannah," Parisa said, rejoining them. "I spoke to the CEO of Spear, Randy Jepsen. He says one of their trucks left the building thirty-eight minutes ago. According to the GPS tracker, it's exactly where it should be, heading toward the Baltimore shipyard. Highway patrol and agents are heading that way now. With any luck, we'll have the truck and its contents in our custody within the hour. Spear is putting the building on lockdown. No other vehicles will be leaving their facilities today."

  "Great," Savannah said. "We'll meet you at the office as soon as we check out the motel."

  "Great."

  As Parisa got into the SUV, they walked down the alley.

  "So, on a scale of one to ten," Savannah began. "With ten being so angry you're seeing fiery-red dragons in your head, how mad are you at me?"

  "About a thousand."

  "Okay, that's more than I was hoping for. You're angry that I brought Parisa in before you had a chance to get all the information from Todd."

  "It wasn't the best timing." He paused as they reached the end of the alley.

  "When I sent the text, I didn't know what we were walking into, Ryker. I had to play it the way I've been trained, and that's to call for backup, to let my team know where I am, what I'm doing, how they can help."

  "I get it, Savannah. But I wish I'd had more time alone with Todd. Now there will be lawyers and federal agents involved. We missed the perfect opportunity to find out how the plan was going to be executed and who else is involved."

  "We know the players—Mason and Hank."

  "There could be others. Chief Tanner was involved. Who knows who else they've recruited?"

  "True." She gave him a thoughtful look. "But here's what I really want to know... Do you wish you had more time alone with Todd, because you think you could have gotten Todd to call it off? Are you trying to stop your former team, or are you trying to save them?"

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Savannah's question rolled around in his head. It would be stupid to try to save the people who were trying to kill him. But there was a voice in his head that kept reminding him that these guys had once been his best friends, his brothers, the men who had always had his back, who had saved his life on more than one occasion. And Paul had done that last night.

  Were they all bad? Or was just one of them pushing his own agenda?

  "Maybe I do want to see if any of them can be saved," he said finally.

  "Well, Todd might have a chance. He can't move forward on the plan now. He didn't seem to be aware of the attack on us. Maybe he hasn't done anything more illegal than fake his own death."

  "He's still involved in the conspiracy."

  "If he turns on the others, he'll get a deal. And if he can prove that he had nothing to do with the attacks on us or on Paul, he might still have a life to save. Maybe the motivation behind the plan will also play in his favor—if they were truly trying to just take care of the families."

  He heard the doubt in her voice. "You don't believe that?"

  "Not entirely. I think it might have been the lie that Paul was talking about."

  "I had the same thought."

  "Todd sold it well, though. He believed it."

  "I thought he did, but I'm not sure I can trust my gut anymore, because I could have never imagined any of them doing any of this."

  "There could be levels of knowledge—not everyone is in on the entire scheme. I can't imagine Paul doing any of this, either. Yet he is. Maybe I'm too naïve. God knows, I've seen a lot of shitty people in my line of work. Perhaps I'm not cynical enough."

  "Don't let the shitty people change you, Savannah."

  She gave him a small smile. "Can I just say that while the takedown might not have gone the way you wanted, I'm really glad you're all right."

  "You were worried that Todd was going to take me down?" he scoffed.

  Her smile broadened. "That was stupid, wasn't it?"

  "I'll say. Todd has never taken me down in his life."

  "So, on a scale of one to a thousand…"

  He couldn't help but smile back at her. "I'm no longer seeing fiery-red dragons. Come on, let's check out the motel."

  They crossed the street and walked down the block to the Happy Days Motel, a two-story, run-down building that probably rented rooms by the hour. The older male desk clerk was eating a bag of chips while the television blasted a game show in the background. The lobby smelled like cigarettes and stale coffee.

  He let Savannah take the lead, using her badge to cut through any resistance, but there was none to speak of. The clerk took one look at Paul's photo and immediately handed over the key card and a room number.

  "There were three of them," the man said. "They've been here since Sunday. Paid me in cash. But both their vehicles are gone. Saw 'em leave last night. Never came back."

  "Did you get a license plate on either vehicle?" Savannah asked.

  "No, we don't do that here. No cameras in the lot, either. Our guests like privacy. But one was driving a big gray truck. The other was in a silver sedan, looked like a rental car."

  "Thanks," Savannah said.

  "I wish we'd gotten license numbers," he said, as they left the office.

  "That would have been helpful, but we can check traffic cameras in the area to see if we can pick up either vehicle."

  "You're always thinking."

  "It's what I do."

  "You're good at it."

  "I have to be. Otherwise, I don't catch the bad guys," she said lightly.

  He had to admit as pissed off as he'd been about her calling in Parisa before he had a chance to really talk to Todd, Savannah was a damned good partner.

  They made their way up to the second floor and paused on either side of the door, guns drawn.

  Savannah knocked on the door and said, "Room service."

  There was no answer. She used the hotel key to open the door, and they moved into the room in perfect sync. There were two double beds and a pullout couch, all of which were unmade. There was a pile of junk food wrappers and bags on the table and empty beer bottles and energy drink cans on the dresser.

  "Your friends are slobs," Savannah commented, as she tucked her gun into the back of her jeans. "Apparently, unlike you, they forgot their military training." She walked over to the table and moved a bag from Big Fat Taco to the side. "Wait a second." She pulled a piece of paper from under a taco wrapper. "Look what we have here."

  He was at her side in an instant, peering over her shoulder at a road map. "That looks like a service
road off the main highway." He studied the map with a critical eye. There were several Xs marked in various locations along the road. "They're setting up a perimeter. This is the intercept site."

  "But how will they get the truck off the highway and onto the service road?"

  "They'll block the highway in some way—a vehicle fire or a broken-down truck blocking all lanes. The only way out will be this road." He felt like he was back in the military again, assessing a target, calculating different scenarios, weighing the risks, the opportunities for success or failure.

  "That makes sense. But the truck would certainly have other armed security besides Hank on board."

  "That person could be in on it, too. If Hank is driving the truck, he could take the service road because of said blockage, which will make sense if someone checks the GPS. He could even radio in that he's taking a different route. He stops the truck. The rest of the team moves out at least some of the weapons, maybe not all. Maybe just enough to escape immediate notice."

  "Or Mason will just tamper with the inventory. I saw inventory sheets on his desk. That's his job."

  "Exactly."

  "I need to call this in."

  As Savannah got on the phone, he looked around the room, hoping for more clues, but there wasn't much else to see. There was one duffel bag on the floor. He guessed that belonged to Todd. He put it on the bed and riffled through it, pausing at two framed photos. The first one was of the team, taken probably three or four years ago.

  He sucked in a quick breath at the sight of the seven of them, looking so young, so alive, so invincible. They'd been deployed to Afghanistan and even in the hot desert, they'd thrived as a team. It hurt to look at them now, to know that the dark-haired, dark-eyed Leo who had dreamt of being a pilot would never see that dream come true, that Carlos with his olive skin and laughing eyes would never laugh again, would never see his wife or his four young children, the oldest only eight, the twins only two.

  And then there was Hank, bare-chested, as he always preferred to be, sporting a thick dark beard and sunglasses, Paul with his sandy-brown hair and boyish charm, Todd, with his dirty-blond hair, dragging on a cigarette.

  His gaze came to rest on himself, on the warrior he'd once been: courageous, fearless, unwilling to look at any obstacle as anything but a challenge. He'd been their leader, their friend, their brother, their confidant. But maybe that's the way he'd seen it, and not the way they'd seen it. Because he realized now that he was a bit removed from the group, a foot of space between him and the next guy.

  Had he always been just that little bit separate? Had he had his walls up even before his injuries, before the bells began to chime?

  Frowning at that question, he moved on to the next photo and found himself looking at a very young Todd. He was probably ten in the photo, and he was sitting next to his mother in front of a very tall Christmas tree. She had her arms wrapped around him and was planting a kiss on his cheek. She was young, blonde, pretty, her face lit up with happiness.

  This was the woman Todd had done this for—the mother he'd already lost to Alzheimer's but still felt a desperate need to take care of.

  Ryker drew in a deep breath, feeling like he'd just taken a punch to the gut.

  "What did you find?" Savannah asked, moving next to him.

  "Some photos." He handed her the one of Todd and his mother. "That's Rebecca, Todd's mom, before she got sick."

  "She's pretty. Did you ever meet her?"

  "About a year before she got sick. She was devoted to Todd. And she used to write him long letters. She'd tell him about every detail of her day, whether it was not being able to find the canned tomatoes she wanted or if she had a cavity at the dentist or if she'd run into some old friend of his. And she always had gossip about the neighbors. Mr. Pearson who was painting pornographic art in his garage studio while his wife thought he was doing sunsets and Mrs. Richardson who would sneak into her neighbor's garden and steal their vegetables. At least, they thought it was Mrs. Richardson. It could have been Mrs. Draeger. There was going to be a sting one day to see who it was." He smiled at the memory. "Todd used to read us the letters when we were passing long hours of boredom. I remember we were all amped up trying to figure out which neighbor was stealing the tomatoes."

  Savannah gave him a soft smile. "It reminded you of a normal life back home."

  "I guess it did." He looked back at the photo. "Todd adored his mom. After his dad died, it was just the two of them. He was the light of her life, and she was his."

  "I'm sorry. It sucks what happened to her."

  "It does suck. I understand why Todd needs to take care of her in the right way."

  "But does the end justify the means?"

  "Well, that's the question, isn't it?"

  "What's the other photo?"

  He handed it to her. "The team—in much better days."

  "This is the one I saw a couple of years ago, when I realized you were in Paul's unit. Carlos was with you at the bar the night we met. He was your wingman."

  "He didn't think you'd even noticed him."

  "Well, I was pretty wrapped up in you," she admitted.

  He put the photos back into the bag, wishing he'd never looked at them.

  Savannah put a hand on his arm. "I know this is difficult for you, Ryker."

  "It doesn't matter if it's hard. It is what it is," he said tersely. "What did Parisa say?"

  "That the map we found is good news, because they located the GPS tracker, and as you may have guessed, it was placed on another vehicle."

  "Then they're off the grid."

  "Hopefully not for long."

  "They could have changed the hijack point. Or they could have already taken the weapons. It looks like they moved up the time, so who knows? Clearly, Todd was left out."

  "Speaking of Todd, Parisa said that Todd is requesting to speak to you and only you."

  "All right. Let's hope he has more to say."

  He led the way to the door, and they walked briskly back to his truck. As soon as they got there, he had second thoughts. He didn't want to waste time looking for an explosive device, but he also didn't want to take the chance that someone had seen them go into the bagel shop and into the motel. "Let's take a cab."

  She met his gaze. "Good idea."

  Ryker was quiet on the cab ride to the DC FBI field office, and since Savannah didn’t want to say much in front of the driver, she remained silent. She knew that Ryker had been moved by the photos he'd found in Todd's bag. She had been touched as well. How could she not be? She might not know the rest of the guys, but she knew Paul. She knew the people Paul had been doing this for, and seeing Todd with his mom had definitely put a more human face on his actions.

  As she thought about her friend, she took out her phone. "I'm going to call Abby. It's weird that I haven't heard from her this morning."

  Abby didn't pick up the phone, so she left a short voicemail. She'd barely finished doing that when her phone buzzed, but it wasn't Abby; it was Jax.

  "What's up, Jax?"

  "I just left the mortuary in Dobbs. After applying some pressure, I got the truth. There were no bodies brought into the mortuary. No one was cremated. Chief Tanner asked them to provide an urn with ashes. They were not the physical remains of anyone. The ashes were from a fireplace."

  "I can't believe the chief did that."

  "I got the feeling from the staff at the mortuary that Tanner runs Dobbs like his own personal business. He's the boss. They do whatever he says."

  "I don't doubt that. But what was in it for him?"

  "I'm trying to figure that out. However, when I stopped in at the police station, I was told Chief Tanner had had a family emergency and left town last night. I checked with his family, which includes a sister in Omaha and a brother in Des Moines. Both said there was no emergency they were aware of and that they hadn't spoken to Tanner in days. In fact, his sister hadn't spoken to him in a couple of years. She didn't seem to like him much. Sh
e said he was controlling and egotistical and sometimes a little creepy where women were concerned. Apparently, when his first wife left him years ago, she confided in Tanner's sister that the chief had a porn addiction."

  "Bingo."

  "Addiction is always a weakness to exploit. And an addiction to porn when you're the chief of police could be very upsetting to the local community. Especially if that porn extended to underage girls. Anyway, that's it on my end. I just spoke to Parisa before I called you. She filled me in on the weapons grab. It's quite a plan. She says she has one of the guys in custody."

  "Yes. Todd Davis. He seems to be out in the cold now, so he's definitely not the mastermind, but hopefully when he realizes he has a chance to make his sentence easier, he'll start talking."

  "That's usually the way it works. First one to talk gets the deal."

  "That's what we told him."

  "I should be back in DC tonight, depending on when I can get a flight. I don't think there's much more to find here in Dobbs."

  "I would agree. In fact, if you want to just head back to LA, you can do that, too. Parisa is getting her entire team involved in this."

  "Well, if you're covered, then I will head back to Los Angeles. Although, it might be fun to come to DC just to annoy your new boyfriend," he said with a laugh. "Damn. I'm not on speaker, am I?"

  "No, you're not. And I'm hanging up now. Thanks again for your help."

  "Good luck with the rest of it."

  "I'll see you back in LA." She ended the call.

  "Want to fill me in?" Ryker asked.

  "I'll give you the details when we get to the office, but there were no bodies at the mortuary, and it looks like Tanner was involved in the coverup. He's now disappeared."

  A gleam entered Ryker's eyes. "Interesting."

  "Well, at least Tanner's reign is over now. My dad always thought Tanner was such a wonderful guy. He used to rave about his discipline, his control, his unwillingness to bend the rules just because he was watching over a small town and not a big city. It gives me a little pleasure to know my father was wrong. I'm sure I'll never hear him admit it, but it's true."