Close To Danger (Westen #4)(11)
“What past? Did she serve in the military?”
“Yes and no.”
Bobby scrunched her brows down. The woman was as bad as Gage. “Lorna, I’m trying to understand what happened.”
“Harriett was an Army field nurse right out of nursing school, long about the end of the Vietnam war. In fact, she met Lloyd Justice back then. He’d been wounded and she was one of the first persons to see him off the helicopter at the hospital. He said, her quick thinking to move him up in the triage line and the hand holding the towels on his abdomen kept him from bleeding out until the surgeon could get to him.”
“So that’s how she came to Westen? Because she became friends with Gage’s father?”
“Not really. And she didn’t come to Westen for about twenty years. She had…other duties, first.”
“Other duties?” Bobby asked quietly.
Lorna leaned in closer. “After the war ended, Harriett traveled quite a bit. She’s quick with languages. Russian, Chinese, Spanish, French. She’s also quite adept at blending into the scenery.”
Bobby mouthed an Oh. Then paused to let the meaning of Lorna’s words sink in. “You mean she worked,” she looked around as if someone might actually be watching them, then whispered, “for the CIA?”
“For years it’s been a rumor. I think the only one, besides Harriett, who truly knew the answer was Lloyd.” Lorna paused for a moment. “And now possibly, Wes.”
Before Bobby could ask more questions, Glenna returned with a brown paper to-go bag with her lunch order.
“Lorna, is there any chance I can get off work a little early today?” Glenna asked her boss. “The boys are out of school and home already. While they’re good boys, I hate to leave them alone too long. Besides, my brother Dave over at the Greasy Motor said they’re starting to get calls for tows due to the weather.”
A single mother of two middle school boys, Glenna worked days at the café during school hours and evenings in the summer when her brother and his wife could watch the boys.
“Give me one more hour, Glenna. Rachel should be in the door by then and you’re on your way home.” Lorna slid from her perch, grabbed Bobby’s ticket and took it to the register. “And you’d better get the sheriff’s lunch to him, Mrs. Justice, or we’ll have one hungry bear on our hands. And given the state of the weather outside, we might need him in his best mood.”
Bobby pulled on her coat and hat, grabbed her lunch bag and followed Lorna to the register. Apparently finding out more about Harriett and Wes was going to have to wait until after the storm.
*
Seated in a tall, comfortable Queen Anne style chair in the receptionist area, Wes, slowly flipped through an investment magazine, not really paying much attention to the articles and barely registering the ads. What he was doing, was observing. Whenever he’d been on an assignment he’d always wanted as much information as possible about the environment he’d be operating in, the locals and their routines. This was no different.
So, he sat quietly observing the people moving about. Employees. They came with an air of confidence, knowing where they were going, what their direct path to an objective was. Some paused to chat with other coworkers. Other than Kelly, the receptionist, none noticed nor interacted with him. Clients. Like he had, they all stopped to talk with Kelly. Some were shown directly to a lawyer’s office, others were seated until their appointment time. Auxiliary staff. Most people never noticed the maintenance workers or the person maintaining the indoor plants.
Today he was taking notice of anyone and everyone who entered Chloe’s sphere of work. Someone in her world was stalking her, terrorizing her. He’d seen how pale she’d gone when the call had buzzed her phone. Her fear was so acute, he’d wanted to scoop her up, carry her out of the building and tell her everything was going to be okay.
Only he couldn’t. Until he knew who was threatening her or why, he couldn’t keep her safe.
Anger still coursed through his blood. Chloe might be opinionated, bossy and way too self-assured for her own good, but she didn’t deserve to be frightened like he’d seen her in her office. Problem was, he was hunting an elusive monster in a concrete and technological jungle. Chloe might not be able to identify her stalker from the anonymous phone calls and texts, but he had tools the average person didn’t. He damn well planned to use them to keep her safe—whether she liked it or not.
At the thought of her reaction to finding out he’d cloned her phone, he lifted the corner of his mouth slightly. He had no doubt she was going to be pissed. The fireworks were going to be spectacular.
Pulling out his phone once more, he studied the two cell tower areas that the satellite had pinpointed the caller had been near. Unfortunately, Chloe hadn’t kept the mysterious caller on the phone long enough for the third tower to ping. It really didn’t matter, though. Both of the towers they’d gotten a lock on served the downtown Cincinnati area. As he suspected, her stalker was local.
Commotion came from the end of the long hall where he’d determined the senior members of the law firm—the big wigs—held offices. A middle-aged man, mostly bald with tufts of salt and pepper hair cut close, exited one office, talking to his entourage. Two younger men and a middle-aged woman close on his heels. The two men typed away on their electronics—a phone for one, a tablet for the other—while the woman jotted notes on a legal pad as she walked. All four wore winter coats, obviously on their way out to a meeting.