Dangerous Secrets Read Free Page B

and
breathed the military daily for nearly twelve years before getting out and
joining C&M.
    Once he’d finished reading, he passed the folder
back and took the iPad she handed him. Tapping the screen he got his first look
at the woman.
    “Mallory Thompson,” Robyn said, confirming his
assumption.
    She was stunning. She had shoulder-length black
wavy hair, lovely green eyes, skin the color of honey and a smattering of
freckles over her upper cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She was, quite
frankly, the most beautiful woman he’d seen in a long time.
    Not classically beautiful, but
beautiful in a natural, raw way that too few women could ever achieve, even
with their four hour rituals. Handing the pad back over, he sat back in his
chair. “When’s she expecting me?” he asked.
    “Six or so, though she’ll likely still
be surprised to see you,” Robyn said.
    Most people were the first time they
laid eyes on him. He was, what his mother so fondly love to point out to anyone
that would listen, a bruiser. Broad shoulders, thick chest and heavily muscled.
Not a bodybuilder by any sense of the definition, but he wasn’t about to blow
away in a good strong breeze, either.
    Rob handed him another set of folders.
“This is what the cops managed to dig up before the trail went cold. I didn’t
mention it to her, so it’s up to you if you want to share.”
    Flipping open the top folder, he looked over the
evidence they’d managed to collect, including the scrapings under Mallory’s
nails. Most had been degraded or compromised but the skin sample had been
clean. She’d likely curled her fingers up into a ball to protect it, acting on
instinct.
    The lab had gotten a DNA profile from the sample,
but there’d been no matches in their database. They were still working
international and other agency databases to find a match. So
far, no hits.
    “So we know the guy has three good scratches, but
given it was ten days ago, they’ve likely mostly healed. Unless they get lucky
with him being in a federal database or international, we’re screwed as to an
ID.” He looked up at Robyn and cocked a brow.
    “Pretty much,” she said.
    “And we still have no idea what this drive is that
he was looking for or why he’s looking for it?” he asked.
    “None. Shawn and I,” she
said, naming her co-owner of C&M. “Have put out feelers to various groups
we know and who know of such things. We’re looking to see if there was a heist
or something. So far, nada. Granger isn’t the sort to
spook. He’s been a cop longer than most of us have been out of diapers. But he
told me, flat out, he has a bad feeling about this entire thing.”
    “Which means you’re taking the threat seriously,”
Trent said. It wasn’t even a question. When a man of Granger’s years said he
had a bad feeling, it was best to listen.
    “Yup,” she nodded. “I wish I could give you more,
Trent. But we just don’t have it. We’re going into this blind.”
    “Not like we’ve never been in a similar situation.
Though, usually, they don’t try to kill a client until we’ve been on the job
for a while.”
    She gave him a sour look that had him chuckling. It
was the truth, whether she liked to admit it or not. Usually, people knew when
they were in trouble or were high profile enough to expect some sort of trouble
or retribution. But Mallory Thompson was a chef. Not exactly a high threat job,
except for kitchen accidents maybe.
    Shutting the first folder, he slid it under the
second and opened it up. It was a review of all those in Mallory’s life,
backgrounds, criminal records and anything else that could be of use, or not.
It included everyone in the apartment building, the apartment management group
and on site caretakers. There were sheets on all the employees and the owner of
the restaurant she worked at. There were even police records of incidents that
had happened at the restaurant and within twenty blocks of her apartment over
the last five