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Chapter 8.
Charlie sat on the overstuffed sofa in Jack's living room, having been introduced to the nine men Luke worked with. Hating crowds, she fought the urge to pull her legs up under her to seek a less exposed position. Geez, is every Saint huge? Sucking in a deep breath, her eyes raked over them carefully, finding nothing but trust and intelligence in their expressions. Glancing to her side, where Luke sat protectively, she took in the comforting smile he offered.
The dark-bearded boss began, "Ms. Trivett, Luke's explained you have quite a story to tell. You need to understand that, while we're investigating with the FBI, we are a private investigation company. You are under no obligation to tell us anything."
"Thank you," she said, her soft voice strong and sure. "But I'm tired of running. Tired of hiding. And tired of trying to figure things out on my own."
With a nod, Jack leaned back in his chair and said, "Then we'll let you take it from here to explain your connection to Eli Frederick."
She had told most of the basic tale to Luke last night but knew she needed to be more forthcoming today. With everything. With another deep breath, she began, "I met Eli my freshman year in college, when he and two others were sort of the last to get chosen for a group project. So the four of us worked together and, to my surprise, found that we got along." Her face softened as she thought of those early days.
"Tim Kelly had a natural leadership about him and took over that role. Hai's English was rough, but he was a hard worker and d.a.m.n smart. Eli...Eli was actually funny. He had zero people skills and was an acquired taste, for sure. He was brilliant and had no problem letting others know he was so much smarter than them." She grinned again at the memory. "But with our group, he actually became more human.
"Tim couldn't wait to join a big company after graduation. Hai had family in California so I wasn't surprised when he moved there. And Eli? I was stunned when he took a company job and," she chuckled wryly, "not stunned when he quit six months later to work freelance." Shrugging as though in apology for him, she added, "He hated being in a cubicle world. I'm sure he thought he was much more intelligent than the others and, oh my G.o.d, if he had to work on large, group projects, that would have made him nuts."
Glancing over to Luke, unable to read his expression, she said, "I know I make him sound terrible. He wasn't. That was just Eli."
"Tell us about your continued involvement with him," Luke prompted.
Nodding, Charlie said, "By the time I graduated, Eli was making a lot of money working freelance. Companies would hire him to write all or part of a program and he could do it in the ease of his own home. He'd bought an old two-story condo in Baltimore, near the waterfront, and since it was an end unit, he had windows overlooking part of the bay. I visited a couple of times. It wasn't a great place, but it seemed to suit him. Anyway," she continued, "he sold me on the idea of working freelance also. He said he had a ton of work he could send my way until I got enough clients coming in on my own."
"You didn't want to work for someone else? Someone with benefits?" Jude asked.
Looking around at the large group of men who all worked together, Charlie knew it would be hard for them to understand what it is like for someone who hated crowds. "I...well, Eli didn't like people very much. But for me, I...uh...well, big groups make me nervous. I seem to be okay if people are moving around, but when a lot of people are crowded in a room and I feel as though I can't get to the door, I get nervous...on the inside. Anxiety problems, so I've been told. It just seemed easier to do the same thing that Eli was doing."
"Are you okay in here, Charlie?" Luke asked, solicitously. He suddenly realized what an overwhelming crowd the Saints could be when piled into one room.
Nodding jerkily, she said, "Yeah. Um...I can see the door and, well, this room is huge so it feels safe." Looking at the two-story room with the stone fireplace along an outside wall with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the Blue Ridge Mountains on either side, she had to admit, "Actually, this room is really fabulous. It feels open and airy." Blushing, she said, "I guess that sounds silly."
"Not at all," Jack said, smiling at the description of his beloved home. He looked up as Bethany walked into the room, a tray filled with cold water bottles in her hands. He jumped up to take the heavy tray from her, stealing a quick kiss. Bethany gifted him with a glorious smile as she nodded toward Charlie and then left the room.
Charlie watched the exchange in interest. If only, she sighed. But men like the Saints did not go for computer nerds like her, she was sure. Glancing to the side at Luke, she could not help but wonder what type of woman he went for.
"So, more about Eli?" Cam asked, interrupting her musings.
Jerking back to the conversation she was supposed to be focused on, she blinked several times. What's wrong with me? Maybe I have been alone too long!
Clearing her throat, she continued, "It worked out well for the past several years. Eli sent some work my way and then I began to build up clients of my own. It was...well, nice for the most part. I worked from home. On my own equipment. And I learned a lot. The money allowed me to pay off my student loans and then afford some expensive computers and programs. My clients included some government agencies where I would create false pasts for persons who would be going into hiding, or witness protection, or even just who needed to get lost."
At this, the other Saints gazed at her in a mixture of admiration and awe as she continued.
"I lost touch with Hai when he went back to China and Tim married and settled in Boston. But Eli and I would communicate weekly, if not more. I lived only about an hour from him, so it wasn't unusual for me to drive to his place to meet."
She watched as the men listened intently to her while taking notes on their tablets. How odd to have all my words written down. To have been alone for so long and now to be in a room full of strangers who are delving into my business. But this is for you, Eli, and whatever the h.e.l.l you got yourself into.
"About two years ago, Eli contacted me and asked if I would help him work on some programming. He had a job that was taking a long time and the client was in a hurry. So I agreed. It was for a medical company that was creating databases to match up organ donors with recipients. I worked on part of the programing but Eli worked on most of it. It was actually his client and he got paid and then turned around and paid me from his money. And..." she pinned them with her hard stare, "that's probably why I'm still alive."
At this statement, Luke's gaze jumped to hers. He had listened to her story in the middle of the night but she was going into more detail now.
She rubbed her forehead, trying to focus on little sleep and lots of nerves. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, rubbing some of the tension away, she let out a sigh. G.o.d, that feels good. Another time...another place... Giving herself a mental shake, she shot Luke a smile.
"Almost eight months ago, Eli contacted me through a secure network we had established for sending sensitive materials back and forth to each other. He emphatically said he needed to talk to me but couldn't use his phone. We arranged to meet in a small town between Baltimore and where I lived. This was a pretty big deal for Eli, who hated leaving his area. When we met, I couldn't believe the change. Even working from home, Eli shaved, wore clean clothes, and generally had good hygiene. But this time, he looked haggard and I honestly wasn't sure the diner manager was going to serve us. Eli started rambling, peering around us as though someone was going to jump out, but I finally got him to talk to me."
Letting out a deep breath, Charlie continued, "He said that the contract we had worked on together was for something wrong. It was hard to understand, but he said that he did some digging into the contractees when he questioned some of the work they wanted him to re-do. They sent some work back to him and when he put my programs together with his, he saw a larger picture than just the part he had worked on himself. And he got suspicious, started digging, and found something...horrible."
Luke watched as she twisted her hands together in her lap and he instinctively reached over to place his long fingers over hers, giving a comforting squeeze. The gesture was not ignored by the others in the room, but no one said anything.
Looking around at the faces focused on her, she shook her head slightly as her voice trembled. "All he would say that day was that he uncovered something illegal with the organ donor list. He wouldn't give me any details then, but wanted to know what he should do. Of course, I told him to call the police and he replied it was much bigger than the police. So then I told him to contact the FBI. He left soon after that but later he said he wanted to be sure. He told me about two months later that he had called the FBI, but was afraid to give them his name or any particulars." Shaking her head, she said, "He really had no clue what to do and since I didn't know what was going on, I couldn't help him."
"Did he ever share with you?" Bart asked. The large man gave an air of a laid-back surfer, but Charlie knew that belied his intensity as she noted his fierce blue-eyed gaze pinned on hers.
"Yes...or at least part of it." Licking her lips nervously, she continued, "He said that it appeared that someone was...using questionable ways for getting organs for recipients." The reality of what she was saying what she had known for six months-began crashing down on her. Throat constricting, she panted as she tried to continue to speak. "Eli thought they were just taking organs."
Luke watched as the blood drained from her face and planted his hand on the back of her head, forcing her head down between her knees. "Breathe, Charlie, breathe slow and deep."
His voice sounded far away, but calmed her nonetheless. Her vision blurred as she gulped in air. Hearing other sounds around her, she felt a cold cloth on the back of her neck. As she continued to breathe deeply she felt Luke's warm hand smoothing back and forth down her spine. After a few minutes her vision cleared and the sound of Luke's voice as he whispered in her ear was no longer far away. Pushing against his hand she raised up, embarra.s.sed at having made such a spectacle of herself.
Blaise kneeled in front of her, his fingers on her wrist taking her pulse. After a moment, he released and nodded at Luke.
Charlie heard him say, "Heart rate is a little elevated," and she could only wonder about the world she suddenly found herself in. Bethany appeared in front of her, holding out a gla.s.s of orange juice, her hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Here, drink this. It'll help revive you."
"I'm so sorry-" Charlie began.
"Don't apologize," Luke said." It's all good. We know you've been through something traumatic, so take your time and just tell us what you know as best as you can."
Almost afraid to look around the room at the faces of the Saints, she took one last fortifying breath and lifted her head. Drinking deeply, she felt the tart juice jolt her system. She was pleasantly surprised to see nothing but concern etched on the faces of the others in the room. With this encouragement she continued her tale.
"When Eli told me what he feared, which was that a client was somehow taking organs from unwilling or unknowing patients, I understood his shock. He wouldn't give me specifics, so I have no idea who he was talking about. I told him that he had to talk to the FBI. He agreed and several days later told me that he had set up a meeting with an agent that he had spoken to there. The meeting was to take place two days after we talked but he called before the meeting to say he was going to send me all of his information just in case he needed a backup. So, using our secure communication network, he sent me some of his work, including what he had been investigating on his own."
Taking a sip of the juice, she shot Bethany an appreciative glance. "I knew the day that he was supposed to meet with them he might need moral support. So I decided to drive to Baltimore to be with him when he met with the FBI agent. And that was when I saw it happen."
"What? What did you see?" Jack queried.
"I saw Eli Fredrick...murdered."
At her proclamation the Saints sat motionless, the silence in the air hanging thickly over the group. Charlie stole a glance to the side at Luke, knowing he had only heard part of the story the evening before, but wondered what he thought now that he was hearing the whole thing. She did not have to wait long to find out.
"f.u.c.king h.e.l.l, Charlie," Luke said, his curse joined by the others resounding about the room.
Knowing she needed to continue, Charlie said, "I drove to his house a couple of hours before he was supposed to meet the agent. When I would visit I would walk around the side to the door that led into his kitchen. So I did the same as I always did. I parked on the street, walked around the side, but before I got to his backdoor I pa.s.sed the first-floor window of the dining room that he used as his office. I normally wouldn't even look in, but I heard voices. Angry voices. Eli never had people over so, realizing he had company, I glanced into the window."
She shuddered as her mind went back to that day, remembering the details as sharply as if they were occurring in front of her right now. "He was sitting in a chair," her shaky voice barely able to be heard. "There were three people in the room. One man was holding Eli's arms behind him, another man was rummaging through Eli's computers and papers, and the third was a woman who turned around with a gun in her hand."
Luke looked over at Jack, wishing Charlie did not have to go over the story again, but knew there was no choice. His hand had not left her back and he slid it to her shoulder to pull her body against his slightly. His heart pounded as he remembered the many times the other Saints had their women sitting in this very room, telling their experiences. But Charlie's not my woman. She's just a...well, a...h.e.l.l, I don't know what she is! A friend? Watching the beautiful, brilliant woman with a core of steel sitting next to him, he knew she was a friend and could easily be more. But am I the type of man she would want?
"Keep going, Charlie," he encouraged softly.
Her pale face with dark circles underneath her haunted eyes, turned toward him. She whispered the next part just to him, as though that would ease the telling.
"She fired...straight into Eli's head." She slumped against Luke, unable to hold herself rigid anymore.
Knowing she needed to recover, Luke signaled the other Saints and they began to move from the room. Hearing them leave, she jerked her head up. "No, no. Don't go. I need to finish this. It'll never get any easier so we might as well plunge on."
The Saints resumed their seats. "I'm so sorry to keep asking, Ms. Trivett," Jack apologized, "but what happened next?"
Her hazel gaze lifted to Jack as her chin quivered. "I ran."
Monty looked over at her and said, "There was no report filed about his murder. You didn't call the police? You didn't tell anyone?" Monty growled, unable to hide his irritation.
"No!" she shouted, her eyes now morphing from fear to anger. "And don't you dare judge me. You have no idea what my life has been like for the last five months!"
Luke's fingers flexed around her shoulder as the other Saints seemed to jerk back in unison at Charlie's vehement reaction. "No one's judging," he whispered.
Monty, immediately contrite, agreed, "I'm very sorry to have made you think I was judging, Ms. Trivett. It's my background. I used to work for the FBI."
"Why didn't you contact the authorities, Charlie?" Luke asked softly. "We just want to know what was happening. Honestly."
She held his eyes for a moment, then sucked in another shuddering breath before slowly moving her attention around the room to each of the other nine men, finally landing on Monty. "I didn't know who to trust," she explained, her voice now steadier. "The woman...holding the gun...on her belt...she had a badge."
Chapter 9.
The Saints milled around the room for a while, allowing Bethany to show Charlie to the bathroom. Monty looked over at Luke and said, "I'm really sorry, man. I didn't mean to upset her earlier."
"It's not you," Luke acknowledged. "As soon as she told me the first part of her ordeal, I knew we needed to get her in here to go over everything."
Blaise asked, "So she's been on the run for all this time? That's a long time for someone to hide...especially someone who has no experience in staying covert."
"I agree," Luke agreed. "I have a feeling that she's been investigating as well, but we'll know more when she comes back in." His eyes continuously glanced to the hall where Bethany and Charlie had disappeared. As he looked around the living room, he noticed the watchful eyes of the other Saints as they focused on him. Lifting an eyebrow, he c.o.c.ked his head, but before he could say anything, Jack spoke.
"Luke, we understand there's more she has to tell us and we also know she's been your unidentified cyber-contact for the last couple of months. I just gotta ask, since it looks like we'll be a.s.sisting her, is she someone special to you?"
"Honestly? I'm not sure," Luke answered, his arms lifted to his sides. "She's smart...special...and stronger than anyone I've met. I feel like I know her and yet she's an enigma to me. But one I'd like to spend more time with, seeing what might be there."
Nodding, Jack said, "Good enough. Then we'll make sure you're on her immediate protection detail."
With a jerk of his head in acknowledgment, Luke turned and walked down the hall to see if she was all right, missing the grins from the other Saints behind him.
Standing at the sink, Charlie ran cold water into her hand and splashed it on her face. The icy shock helped revive her and she patted her face dry with the decorative hand towel. Jack doesn't seem like a decorative-hand-towel-sort-of-guy. But when he looks at his wife, I get the feeling he'd do anything for her. Even have fluffy, pretty hand towels. A snort escaped as she looked up into the mirror. G.o.d, I've just told them I witnessed a murder and I'm thinking of bath ornaments. I must have really lost my mind.
Dreading going back out into the testosterone-filled room, she heaved a sigh before hearing a light knock at the door.
"Charlie?" Luke's voice called softly. "You okay?"
Opening the door, she leaned her head back to look into his face. At five-feet-seven-inches, she was unused to having to lean so far back to look into someone's eyes. But Luke was tall. His lean, muscular body filled the doorway and she fought the desire to melt into his embrace. Shaking her head, she replied, "Yeah, I'm fine. Well, as fine as the witness to a murder who has now been on the run for almost five months can be."
Her attempt at a smile fell flat, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly anyway. "Come on," he said, reaching his hand out to link his fingers with hers before gently pulling her out of the bathroom. He tried to ignore the tingle he felt all the way up his arm from their connected fingers, but almost stumbled as he drew her closer anyway. "Let's finish this, so we can figure out how to help you."
The feel of his fingers intertwined with hers sent warmth from her hand to her heart. She could not remember the last time someone had held her hand. Allowing him to take the lead, she followed him back into the large, airy room as everyone resettled into their seats.
"Are you all right for continuing?" Jack asked, his gruff voice softened by his kind eyes.
Nodding, she sucked in a fortifying breath and said, "Yes. I want to finish. I've held this in for so long...it feels...I don't know...kind of freeing."
Clearing her throat, she said, "I can't tell you specifically about the other people in the room other than the woman with the gun. It all happened so fast."
"What can you remember about her?" Luke prodded.
"I saw the gun first and was...stunned. My feet felt leaden and I couldn't even scream," she said, her eyes pleading with his for understanding.
He squeezed her fingers again, willing his strength to flow into her.
Her chest heaving with exertion, Charlie said, "Then she spoke Chinese and twisted around to face him. That was when I saw the badge clipped to her belt."
"Chinese?" Monty asked, keeping his tone neutral.
"I don't know Chinese, if that's what you mean, but it sounded just like Hai when he would slip back into his native language. She said a phrase I often heard him say." Seeing the raised eyebrows from the group, she explained. "Hai learned a few of our sayings, like, Who knows, when asked a question and he didn't know the answer. But he would generally slip back into Chinese and when Eli would ask why a computer program wasn't working, Hai would say Shu zhdo." Looking back to Luke, she said, "The woman said those word to Eli before she shot him."
"Who knows..." Luke pondered out loud before looking at the others. "Was she asking who knew about what he was working on?"
"I'm not sure but, if so, that means the killers know that he may have shared the information with someone else," Patrick added, his focus landing on Charlie. His expression mirrored the others in the room-shock.
"What did she look like?" Monty prodded. "Was she Asian or Caucasian?"
"Asian," she answered definitively.
"Can you identify her?" Monty continued to ask, but frowned as Charlie shook her head.
Swallowing hard, she waded in again, "No...I just saw...she fired. I saw...I saw he was dead...and I ran. I made it back down the street to where I had parked and drove away." Pinning her gaze on them again, she said, "It's easy for you to sit here and think that I should have called the police. I should have done something. All I could see in my mind...besides Eli getting shot...was that badge on her belt. I made it back to my apartment, brainstorming the whole way. I knew he was supposed to meet with the FBI... what if that was them? What if one of them got to him first to keep him from talking? Or, if it was someone else, then the FBI would find him when he didn't show up."
Her face crumpled as she dropped her chin to her chest. "But they didn't look, did they?"
Fat tears slipped down her cheeks, spearing Luke's heart. Tucking her into his arms, he pulled her face into his chest. One hand slid around to cup the back of her head and the other banded around her waist. His eyes caught Jack's over the top of her head and he knew his expression gave off mixed signals. On the one hand, he wanted the interview to be over...to take her back to his home, let her sleep in a real bed. After she had confessed last night that she had moved around for months, his heart hurt for her. But he knew they could not stop. They had to know everything.
"Jack?" Bethany's quiet voice called out. He turned his admiring gaze toward her. "Why don't I fix some food? Maybe have some of the others come?" A quick smile and nod was his only answer, but the only one she needed. Turning, she left the room.