The Rescue(31)

That would have been nice to know. Must have slipped Justin’s feeble mind.

“Did you verify her credentials four months ago?”

“I’m pretty sure I inspected her badge,” said Justin. “I didn’t sense anything off. Is there a problem?”

“Not from you. I work with the Ares legal department, and we’ve had a few fake inspectors and auditors hit Ares locations in the southeast United States. Florida up the East Coast to North Carolina. We’re pretty sure one of Ares’s competitors is behind it.”

“Wow. That’s crazy. Why would they want to do that?” said Justin. “All it takes is a quick call to the FAA to ask about the waivers.”

“Exactly. We’re not really worried about it, but I do need to follow up,” said Gunther. “I’m going to swing by in about forty minutes to review video and take a close look at the waiver. Maybe there’s a pattern.”

“Perfect. Most of the techs are out on calls, and that’s right in the middle of lunch. I’ll stick around, and we’ll have the place to ourselves. So we don’t spook anyone.”

“Even better. Any chance the agent is still around?”

“No. She took off. I watched them leave.”

“Them?”

“There was another agent in the car,” said Justin. “He didn’t come in.”

Gunther disconnected the call and immediately dialed one of the preset numbers on his phone.

“All clear up here,” said Jay.

“Haul ass to the vehicle and drive it as far up the path we followed as possible,” said Gunther. “I think Decker was in Riverside, at Ares Aviation.”

“I’m on my way out,” said Jay. “Is he still there?”

“No. But this might be the freshest his trail will ever get for us. Penkin wasn’t tortured. In fact, I think Decker let him commit suicide.”

“That’s not good,” said Jay.

You have no idea.





CHAPTER TWENTY

Harlow cracked open a Diet Coke and took a long drink, stopping when she hiccuped. Then she plunged her hand into the cylinder of Pringles, straining at the fingertips to reach the depleted stack of sour cream and onion chips. Decker watched her curiously.

“What?” she said, finally lifting several chips free.

“You’re like a junk food monster.”

“Based on what? A few hours observing me in the car?” she said, chomping down on the Pringles.

“My guess is that you spend a lot of time in your car on stakeouts,” he said, pulling an empty Skittles bag from between the seat and center console. “Munching on garbage.”

“One man’s garbage is another woman’s treasure,” she said, snatching the bag out of his hand and stuffing it into the door cup holder. “There’s more Diet Coke in the cooler.”

He glanced toward the back seat, then shook his head. “Any water?”

“Just Diet Coke,” she said. “Sorry. You should have said something.”

“When you told me you filled a cooler with drinks, I just assumed.”

She honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking or serious. Was he really complaining about the drink selection?

“You really won’t drink Diet Coke?”

“I gave up soda.”

She was about to say something sarcastic when he continued.

“About nineteen months ago.”

“That’s a conversation stopper,” she said before taking another sip.

“Maybe I’ll give one a try. I never got into the diet soda, honestly.”

As he reached between the seat backs for the cooler, a silver SUV pulled into view on Airport Drive.

“Forget the Coke. We might have company,” she said, putting the can down and swiping her cell phone from the dashboard.

Decker remained motionless, twisted in his seat. Even the slightest movements attracted the eye. Sitting up in the seat while the SUV pulled even with them could have easily betrayed their position.

“Tell me when I can move,” said Decker.

She waited a few seconds, until the SUV had pulled into the strip mall parking lot across the street.

“You’re good,” she said, putting together a quick text.

Decker glanced at her with a thin frown before lifting a telephoto lens–equipped digital camera from the case between his feet. “Who are you texting?”

“None of your business.”

“Did one of your people follow us out here?”

She sent the text and grabbed the camera. “What do you care?” she said. “I have this covered.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Good. Keep a close eye on our surroundings,” she said, readying the camera. “I don’t like surprises, either.”

Harlow focused the camera’s viewfinder on the SUV, following it into a reserved parking space right in front of Ares Aviation. She zoomed in and looked for a clear picture. The vehicle next to them mostly obscured the two men in the front seat. She’d have to wait until they stepped out of the SUV, which wouldn’t provide much opportunity to capture their faces.

“Anything good?” said Decker.

“Not yet,” she said, pressing the shutter release. “I might get one of them on the way in—if I’m lucky.”