Project Enterprise Read Free

is classified?”
    â€œYes, ma’am.” He was quiet for a minute. “What about experts who help you with technical stuff?”
    â€œExperts? You mean experts in scientific advances that haven’t been discovered yet? Or are fictional? Those kind of experts?”
    He didn’t blink. “Yes, ma’am.”
    Jilly leaned forward, hissing through clenched teeth. “Aren’t any. Don’t exist. I make it all up.” She leaned back, taking a couple of deep breaths. “Have you read my books?”
    â€œI read one of them, the first one.” He smiled again. “It was good.”
    â€œBut somehow classified.”
    â€œWell, yes.”
    He shifted, as if uncomfortable, but he didn’t look uncomfortable.
    â€œYou know, your comedy routine would play better with your straight man here instead of patrolling my back yard like Sherlock Holmes.”
    He grinned. His gaze seemed admiring, but that might have been part of the routine.
    â€œSeems to be taking the cops a long time.” Had he even called anyone? Maybe they killed “Jusan”…
    She heard an odd, thumping noise. What the…
    Helicopters. Several of them.
    She gave Daniels an ironic look. “I’m sure that’s the HPD. They always arrive by chopper.”

    H e liked her , Rick realized, more than he should. She had spunk and a good eye for bull. She’d seen right through them, even before the real Men in Black swarmed over her place like ants on cake. Though they also wore jeans, just more expensive ones.
    She still sat at her kitchen table, her hands loosely clasping her bottle of water, staring at the wall in front of her. One or two times, Hitchens, the guy in charge of the team, had stopped to ask her a question. Each time, she’d turned her gaze toward him, stared at him for a full minute, then looked away without speaking.
    She hadn’t asked for a lawyer. Yet. He hoped she didn’t, since she wasn’t getting one.
    Fyn emerged out of the woods at the back of her house and gestured for him. They met in the center of the backyard.
    â€œFound something.”
    Apparently he’d used up his allotment of full sentences. Rick signaled for a couple of the guys to come with them and followed Fyn into the woods. It was cooler under the trees but somehow more humid, which felt like it canceled out cool. The heat made the smell back here more pungent.
    Fyn stopped and pointed to one of the trees. Rick stepped around, staring at the scorch mark on the tree, about chest high if the man was as short as the dead fan. They moved deeper into the wood and found more of the marks until they reached a small clearing. Fyn paced around, pointing out his finds. Some trampled flowers, a mix that clearly wasn’t indigenous. More scorch marks. Tire tracks. Footprints. A dead ferret.
    A ferret?
    Rick crouched by the critter. No scorch marks on the visible side. He turned it over and realized it was still warm. Its heart was still beating. Okay, even in an odd situation, that was pretty strange.
    He stood up, stepping out of the way of the photographs being taken.
    â€œWhat if he just walked in on something?” If he’d been planning on an unscheduled visit with his favorite author, sneaking through the woods might seem logical, particularly to a guy dressed like Spock.
    â€œSee if you can find our victim’s vehicle.”
    Rick didn’t wait to see the guy nod, just headed back toward the house. When Fyn joined him, Rick wasn’t totally surprised to see him carrying the ferret, which was starting to wake up. He hoped they found an owner. Fyn appeared to be bonding with it. And Rick would probably get the blame when he wanted to take it home. Fyn’s wife could kick some serious butt.
    When they got back to the house, more show and tell.
    The victim was one, Oscar Redding. According to his Texas driver’s license he was taller and thinner than he looked.