Chapter 10

The morning sunstreamed through the diner’s windows, warming the vinyl booths and coaxing curls of mist from the damp pavement outside.

Across the table, Mason polished off his plate of biscuits and gravy. He ate with military precision, focused and economical. Yet somehow, he still managed to look intimidating even while enjoying his food. Since sitting down twenty minutes ago, he’d charmed the waitress and cook alike.

To her, though, he gave nothing but cool politeness. Fine. She didn’t want a partner any more than he seemed to.

Pushing away her bagel, Avery met his gaze. “We need a strategy.”

Mason chased the last of the gravy around his plate with his last bite of biscuit. Once finished, he folded his hands on the table and looked at her directly. “Ten bucks says you already have a plan.”

She bristled, though she wasn’t sure why. Of course she was prepared. But his noticing grated on her for some reason.

“I did have a plan, before you barged in.”

He ignored the jab. “What kind of evidence do you need to make your case?”

“Testimony won’t be enough. Their lawyers would shred your brother on the stand.”

Mason made a dismissive sound. “Wouldn’t be necessary. He’d be dead long before any trial started.”

“No joke. I need hard proof to get traction here.” She leaned forward, serious again. “So let’s figure out how to get it.”

He stared her down, his green eyes radiating intensity. “Tell me what you need.”

They bantered back and forth, compiling a list of must-have evidence Avery needed—mainly proof of the cargo coming in on large container trucks and some smaller, local delivery trucks—and whatever cargo was heading out on the constant flow of UPS and Fed-Ex vehicles leaving the facility. The trucks that came and went were the real deal. As far as she could tell after running their plates, they were all running legitimately.

“I need to get a look at that cargo.”

Mason rolled his eyes. “Well, I need to talk to Santa Claus, but that’s not gonna happen. Paul’s not allowed to have his phone on the warehouse floor. No way he can take photos. Plus, if they caught him?—”

“I know. I wasn’t going to ask him to take that kind of a risk. I just want him to give me info on how things work inside. Once I know how many employees work his shift, their jobs, etc., I figured I could come up with a plan.”

“Makes sense.” Mason nodded at her untouched bagel. “You gonna eat that?”

She pushed the plate toward him.

“I have a plan, too,” he announced as he slathered half a bagel with cream cheese.

“You wanna fill me in on it there, cowboy?”

He chewed for a minute. “I’m more of a lumberjack than a cowboy, just FYI.”

“What’s the diff?” She couldn’t believe she even asked.

He aimed the bagel at her. “Small stuff. Cowboys ride to the rescue. Lumberjacks build a cabin, stock the firewood, prepare stew and then whisk the heroine away before the danger even starts. No need for rescue.”

The temperature in the diner went up a few thousand degrees. Or maybe it was just her. She cleared her throat. “Are you going to share this plan?”

He pushed the plate away from him and sat back, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “I ran your investigation by my people last night.”

“You what?”

“Don’t stress out. We’ve all had higher security clearance than the entire FBI, including the director. Nobody on my team’s going to rat you out.”

“You should have discussed this with me first.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “That’s not how I roll. You’re putting my brother in danger. I’ll do what I have to do.”

When he put it that way, the man had a point. Not that she’d let him know she agreed. She made an impatient gesture with her hand. “We can argue about that later. What did you tell them, and what did they find out?”

He gave her a long look before answering. Under other circumstances, she might have called it smoldering, but given their non-existent relationship, she guessed it was more of an I-hate-this-but-I’m-trapped-into-working-with-you-for-now vibe.

He lined his napkin up with the edge of the table, clearly considering his words. “They’re still diving into the company’s background, but they agree the deaths of those three men seem suspicious. Highly statistically unlikely at the very least. There’s also some question about where Rain Bay Trucking got the infusion of cash it needed to build that fancy new warehouse. There’s no record of a new investor.”

“So you’re thinking they used illegal money?”

“That’s what my team thinks.”

Even though Mason’s team didn’t have any definitive info, she loved the idea that there were professionals doing the background work that she had neither the time nor the resources to conduct on her own. Once the Bureau got onboard with her investigation, she’d have all the backup she needed. Until then, Mason’s team would be a welcome addition. As long as they stayed in the background.

She smiled at him across the table. “So for now, we see what your brother can come up with.”

His strong, tan fingers dug into the tabletop. His face hardened and he swung his gaze back to her. “You’ve got two days, then I’m pulling him out.”

“Two days! We didn’t agree on a timeline.”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

Her first instinct was to turn him down flat and leave. But that would leave her back at square one, with no insider info. And less time on the clock. Not a great strategy.

Two days would give her time to change Mason’s mind. Besides, if Paul couldn’t get the info she needed in two days, how could she be sure he’d get it in two weeks?

It was now or never.

“Fine. Two days.” She slid out of the booth. “Saddle up, or grab your axe or whatever.”

He was on his feet before she could blink. “Where we headed?”

“That’s need-to-know. You got a jacket? It’s gonna be wet later.” She slapped a hand down on the check and slid it toward him. “Don’t forget to pay on the way out.”