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Authors: Kim McMahill

Tags: #Suspense & Thrillers

A Taste of Tragedy (22 page)

BOOK: A Taste of Tragedy
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CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
 

Morgan had fallen asleep somewhere along the way to Sedona. She was momentarily confused where she was when Nick nudged her awake.

“What’s the code to the gate?”

She stared at him, her mind racing through the keypad, trying to come up with the numeric equivalent, but the image failed to form in her mind.

“Morgan, are you okay?”

She nodded and bit her lip.

“The code?” His arm rested on the rolled-down window and his fingers hovered over the keypad

There was no use stalling any longer. “It’s N-I-C-K.”

His head whipped around and their eyes met. He looked as if he was going to say something but then returned his focus to the key pad and punched in the code.

The gate rolled open and they drove through. Nick waited until it shut and then proceeded toward to the house. Morgan punched the button on the garage door opener and watched as it rose slowly.

Embarrassment over her security code colored her cheeks. She avoided Nick’s gaze as she quickly got out of the vehicle, grabbed her overnight bag, and opened the door. Flipping on the light, she entered the kitchen and tossed her bag on the nearest chair. She moved toward the sink, her throat suddenly very dry. As she reached for the faucet handle, her hand froze and then began to shake.

“What is it, Morgan? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Nick stated as he rushed to her side. He followed her gaze to her laptop computer, which rested on the counter in a puddle of water.

“Stay here,” Nick stated as he pulled out his Glock 17.

Morgan couldn’t have moved even if she had wanted to. She had been here less than sixteen hours ago, and she hadn’t even fixed herself breakfast. She had done nothing in the kitchen that could have gotten her computer wet. She caught glimpses of Nick as he maneuvered silently from room to room, checking every nook and cranny of the house.

“Nothing else looks disturbed,” he said as he returned to her side and pushed the power button on the computer. As suspected, nothing happened.

“I didn’t even use the kitchen this morning. I didn’t spill anything on it.”

“I know. The only person I know who is wound even close to as tight as me is you. You don’t spill things, and if you do, you clean them up immediately.”

She tried to smile. Having someone who truly knew her was comforting.

“Come on. Just sit here and try to relax.”

Morgan didn’t resist as Nick led her to the sofa. A moment later, he returned with a glass of wine and set it on the coffee table next to her. “I’m going to check the doors and windows closer, and then have a look around outside. If someone was here, they’re gone now, okay?”

She nodded but didn’t feel any better. Someone had been here. There was no other explanation for the water on the counter under the computer. If someone found the e-mails, they had probably hoped to destroy the electronics and make it look like an accident. If she hadn’t returned so soon, the water would have dried up and the computer would be dead without obvious reason.

Nick moved around the house with familiarity, retrieving the flashlight from its usual place in the drawer next to the refrigerator. Morgan watched him until he disappeared into the darkness, her mind reeling through all the details of the past few weeks.

Except for a computer in her duplex left on and another destroyed, she had no tangible evidence anyone had broken into her homes in
Phoenix
or Sedona. Other than the e-mails and sample she had sneaked out of the manufacturing facility, no one would have any reason to find her a threat. The only person, besides Nick and his partner, who knew the content of the e-mails was
Preston
, although she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already shared the information with Aaron.

Shaking off the fear and confusion, she forced herself to focus. She retrieved a pen and notepad and settled back down on the couch to make the list Nick wanted of everyone involved, her key suspect at the top of the page.

“Have you had any work done on the sliding glass door recently?” Nick’s voice interrupted her thoughts and she set the pad down.

“No, why?”

“There are a few scratch marks on the locking mechanism on the interior side of the door, which is odd. The marks could have been caused by a knife or screwdriver slipping. Other than that, I found a few tracks around the house. There were no shoe treads or toe definition from bare feet, so I would guess someone was walking in stocking feet.”

“There’s been no work on the door, and I have no idea what could have scratched the metal.”

Nick double-checked the door locks, holstered his gun, and sat in the chair opposite Morgan. “What are you working on?”

“The list you wanted me to make, but I have a good idea who broke in this morning. I don’t know how we’ll prove it, and I seriously doubt it was his idea.” Before Morgan could continue, Nick’s phone rang. She watched as he answered. He paused as he looked up at her. She was confused by the expression on his face, but said nothing.

He stood and turned his back to her, but she clearly heard the words he spoke and the expression made complete sense. “The code is…well, it’s, N-I-C-K.”

Morgan had to chuckle. Spelling his name out wouldn’t spare him any teasing from his partner.

He ignored her as he grabbed the Jeep’s keys off the pegboard in the kitchen. “I’m going to pull the Jeep out so Devyn can put her car in the garage. If anyone followed you here, we don’t want to scare them off with an unknown vehicle.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
 

When Morgan heard the garage door shut, she walked toward the kitchen, pausing in front of the decorative mirror to check her hair and makeup. She wasn’t sure why, but she couldn’t help feeling intimidated by a woman she had never met but was such a huge part of Nick’s life.

She was holding her breath when Nick stepped through the door followed by a tall, blonde, athletically built woman. Her heart sank. Nick’s partner was stunning in a casually beautiful kind of way. She was the type of woman who looked great in jeans or shorts, but clearly had the ability to be glamorous with a little effort. She wore no makeup and her hair was in disarray, but it didn’t detract from her natural beauty.

“Hi, Devyn Nash.”

Morgan took her extended hand and tried to return the smile. “Morgan Hunter.”

She held eye contact with Devyn, refusing to be the first to look away or end the handshake.

“Devyn, the bathroom is down the hall there if you want to freshen up,” Nick stated as he grabbed her arm and pulled the women apart.

“She seems nice,” Morgan stated as she turned her back to Nick and retrieved three glasses from the cabinet, filling each with ice cubes and water.

“Most people wouldn’t categorize Devyn as nice, but she does have her good points. There’s no one I’d rather have my back if things go wrong. She’d deny it, but she can be a softy.”

“Don’t be spreading lies about me,” Devyn said as she sauntered into the room.

The way the woman’s eyes examined the room, Morgan had no doubt she missed nothing and the scrutiny made her feel exposed. She watched as Devyn wandered to the mantle, eyed the photo of Morgan and Nick, and then gently touched her Senorita gnome. She smiled and her eyes twinkled as they met Nick’s. “Very nice. I’ve always been curious about gnome collecting. I’ve never seen this one before. Where did you get it?”

Before Morgan could answer, Nick cut in. “Save it. Did the search of Smith & Brown turn up anything?”

“You could say that. I just heard from Conroy about an hour ago. When I asked Sacramento to go have a look at everything removed from Dexter Fowler’s office, I got the run-around, so Conroy called Sacramento’s SAC, who ordered him to conduct the search immediately. Of course, he reported uncovering nothing of importance, but shortly after he left, I got a call from Neil Kimball, Dexter’s supervisor, stating that one of the janitorial staff asked him if Sacramento was Dexter’s replacement. Apparently, while Smith & Brown closed for Dexter’s funeral and the building was empty of everyone except the lone janitor, Sacramento tossed Dexter’s office.”

Morgan handed Devyn the glass of water. Their eyes met, and Morgan forced a smile.

“Thanks,” Devyn said as she took a sip and then set the glass on the coaster on the coffee table as she took a seat on the sofa. “Anyway, to make a long story short, they haven’t arrested Sacramento yet, but he’s under surveillance in hopes he’ll lead us to Coterie. The security cameras in the building were jammed during the time the janitor claimed to have seen
Sacramento
, which is unfortunate but not surprising. Even a bad agent would be smart enough not to get caught on camera. So until
Sacramento
slips up, which I have no doubt he will, all we have is his word against the janitor’s.”

“That would explain why Coterie is always one step ahead of us,” Nick said.

“Sure would. Now tell me what I don’t know,” Devyn replied.

“Morgan spent the weekend here and left early this morning for work,
Phoenix
is about a two-hour drive south of here. When we got here this evening, we noticed her computer, which contained the e-mails you read, sitting in a puddle of water. Needless to say, it won’t power up. We’ll see if tech can pull anything off it, otherwise the electronic copies are lost. Morgan also believes her duplex was broken into. This person is good. The only clues left behind at her duplex were a crooked doormat and her computer was on when she got home even though she always turns it off at night.”

“Actually, I backed up my files onto a flash drive this weekend and put it in my safe deposit box here in town,” Morgan interjected.

“Wow, I can see what drew you two together,” Devyn said.

Nick ignored her. “As I mentioned earlier, whoever is behind this is a professional, and we have no proof of any wrongdoing at the moment. The sample results probably won’t hold up in court, since there is no proof where it came from, only Morgan’s word that it was part of the supply used in the products. If anyone realizes she took the sample, and has any brains at all, the rest of the substitute product is gone by now. Same with the e-mails. Without the electronic trail, there is no proof they were written by Dexter and Stan. Really, the only reason we’re here is because of the ties between Frank, Dexter Fowler, and Stan Jacobson, Morgan’s dead predecessor.”

“What do you mean, substitute?” Devyn asked.

“I checked in with the lab while you were
en
route. What they’ve found so far is that the contents in the sample Morgan provided don’t match the composition filed on GCF’s GRAS form. The lab theorizes that the company may have tried to substitute cheaper synthetic ingredients for the much more expensive natural ingredients the company claims to use.”

“How much could that possibly affect the bottom line?” Devyn stood and began to pace.

Morgan had already thought of that and had done as much research as she could on the sweetener’s cost. “
The only place hoodia
gordonii
grows naturally is
South Africa
's
Kalahari Desert
, so its price is staggering, and although m
onk fruit is starting to be grown commercially, it’s still expensive. The manufacturing process for the approved formula is complex and time consuming. For the quantities GCF uses over a year, and the estimated cost difference between using hoodia
gordonii
and monk fruit versus synthetics, we could be looking at four to five million a year, maybe more. I had a difficult time accessing data on the sweetener. And claiming the expense of producing MFHG3 rather than the actual expense of the synthetic probably saves GCF nearly as much in state and federal taxes.”

“If Dexter’s claims in the e-mail are true about the sweetener stimulating the appetite and being addictive, maybe it isn’t just about the money savings. They could be trying to ensure their customers remain in a perpetual need of their product,” Nick added.

Morgan thought about her conversation with the woman in the grocery store and realized Nick had a valid point. The woman seemed almost like an addict as she filled her cart with Healthy and Delicious Foods products and expounded on how much she craved them.

“Research indicates that the active ingredient in Hoodia suppresses the appetite by acting on the nerve cells in the brain that sense glucose, by sending signals to make the brain think the body is full, even if it isn’t. These signals may even be much stronger than the signals sugar sends for the same reason,” Morgan stated.

“Interesting. This situation is really starting to fit the Coterie profile,” Devyn said.

As Morgan sat back and listened to Devyn and Nick discuss the financial implications, she suddenly realized how exhausted she was. Since starting her new job, she hadn’t gotten many decent nights of sleep. She looked at the clock and saw it was just after midnight, and she had gotten up at 4:00 a.m. the day before in order to make it back to
Phoenix
in time for work.

“I’m sure we could all use some sleep. I know I’m beat. Devyn, there’s a guest room at the end of the hall on the left with an attached bathroom. Please make yourself at home. I guess that leaves you the couch, Nick. Blankets are in the same place they’ve always been. I’ll finish up on the list of Giant Cactus employees in the morning.”

“I’ll lock up,” Nick said.

Morgan looked up at him. The phrase was so familiar it felt like she had stepped back in time.

“By the way, where’s the rod that used to be wedged in the runner of the sliding glass door?”

Morgan thought for a moment before the memory returned. “Oh, I used it a year or so ago to knock down a couple vacant swallow’s nests under the eaves in hopes they wouldn’t come back. I must have set it down in the garage and forgot to put it back in the door. If you can’t find it out there, I saved the broken handle from an old broom you could probably saw off to fit.”

Nick went out into the garage, leaving the two women sitting across from each other in the warmly decorated living room. Morgan didn’t know what to say, but had no doubt Devyn would soon break the awkward silence.

“Nick has a Mariachi gnome sitting on his desk that no one is allowed to touch. I always wondered what was supposed to be in its hand and why he was so protective of it. Now I know. I want to ask you a million questions, but I’m not sure where to start.”

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about Nick. He’s very private.”

Devyn threw her head back and laughed. “Now that’s an understatement. I didn’t even know he’d been married until I was driving him to the airport after he got your package.”

Morgan wasn’t sure how she felt about the fact that, despite all the time these two must spend together, he had never mentioned her. Had he moved on so thoroughly that he never thought of her? Surely he still cared. She thought back to the kiss they shared in
Phoenix
earlier that night and Devyn’s mention of the gnome. She feared that maybe the true reason for his silence about her was that she had managed to hurt him that deeply.

“We bought the gnomes on our honeymoon,” Morgan whispered.

Devyn moved from her chair to sit next to Morgan on the couch and took her hand in both of hers. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. Nick is special to me, and I’m just so curious about his life before me.” Morgan looked up with eyes filled with so much pain that it made Devyn flinch. “Not like you think—nothing romantic. Nick is my longest lasting partner. Apparently, people find me difficult to be around and impossible to work with. I was starting to feel like a major social loser until he came along, and now I’ve convinced myself it wasn’t just me, it was all those insecure men I used to work with.”

This brought a weak smile to Morgan’s lips. “Yes, he is more secure than most men. I hope you don’t take him for granted the way I did. Even though he’s a good person, he can only be pushed so far before he pushes back.”

“Thanks for the advice. Now let’s get some sleep, and we’ll figure all this out in the morning.”

BOOK: A Taste of Tragedy
7.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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