The Agent's Surrender. Kimberly Van Meter
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that if that were the case. “I’d like to poke around Tessara, but first I want to talk to Nathan again and see if he left anything out of his statement.”
“Such as?” Jane asked, frowning. “Are you saying that Isaacs could’ve withheld evidence?”
“No. But maybe he forgot some details. It’s not as if Nathan didn’t get caught up in some hairy shit, too. Winslow almost won that fight. Nathan was in ICU for weeks recovering from a bullet wound to the gut, and that’s no cakewalk.”
“I read the file. Even bleeding out, he managed to take a beating from Winslow before killing her. Impressive,” she admitted. “Nathan Isaacs is a bit of a badass.”
Yeah, it was true. He wouldn’t steal Nathan’s thunder just because the sudden admirable light in Jane’s eyes caused a spurt of jealousy from out of nowhere. So instead, he said, “He’s a good man. One of the best.”
Jane nodded, and it was apparent he’d caused the wheels to start moving, which was a good thing. He’d rather have her working with him than against. “Fine, we can talk to Isaacs, but everything is going on the record. I don’t want anyone using the excuse they won’t talk unless they have anonymity.”
“Sometimes you have to bend the rules, Fallon,” he told her, giving her no such promise. When lives were at stake, sometimes regs went out the window. He’d do whatever it took to get the real answers, and that included twisting the rules into a pretzel.
“You’re impossible to work with,” she groused under her breath as they walked into the main room. The bar was off to the right, and a pool table stood, dejected and forgotten, on the left. Jane noticed the table and said, “I’m surprised they didn’t immediately sell that at auction.”
“Me, too,” he said, frowning. Everything of value had been stripped from the bar, including Miko’s collectible tap handles he’d purchased for a steal on eBay. Holden strode to the pool table and ran his palm over the familiar green felt. He and Miko had played many games on this table and wagered more money than they should’ve because they were both so damn competitive. A smile tugged at his mouth at the memory. “Miko was a terrible pool player but a great cheater. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d found a way to slant the table to his advantage. He didn’t even deny the fact he didn’t play fair. The sucker was always taking me for a couple hundred every time we played.”
“So much for that honor you were talking about,” she quipped drily, and Holden shook his head.
“No, it wasn’t like that. He considered any competition fair game. Second place is first loser. C’mon, Fallon, you can’t tell me you don’t feel the same.”
“True,” she agreed grudgingly. “But I don’t condone cheating of any kind. If you can’t win on your own merits, you don’t deserve to win.”
He grunted a concession and bent down to inspect the ball return. “Maybe it’s broken and they figured whoever bought the place could either throw it away or have it repaired.” He felt along the track. The balls gleamed in the dim light, a reminder of better times. He pulled three quarters from his pocket and slid them into the coin return, pushing it in, but the coins slid back out, answering that question. “Yeah, it’s broken,” he said, reaching underneath to feel along the underside. The pads of his fingers found a tiny button and he stopped, motioning for Jane to bring the light. “I feel something...a button of some sort. I don’t know much about pool tables, but I can’t imagine why there’d be a button underneath the table.” Jane came closer and bent to peer beneath the table with the light. “You see anything?”
“That’s odd,” she agreed. “Press it and see what happens.”
“Famous last words,” Holden quipped with a grin and she grimaced at his humor. But soon neither were laughing because suddenly a hidden door released and a taped manila envelope dropped to the floor. “What the... Miko, you crafty son of a bitch...”
“What the hell is that?” Jane asked, the cold forgotten and her eyes trained on the envelope. “Why would your brother hide something in the pool table?”
“Because no one would think to look there,” he answered with pride for his brother’s smarts. “Good one, bro.”
“That’s evidence,” she said, moving to stop him before he ripped open the package. “We should give it to the forensics team and let them determine what’s inside.”
“Screw that. My brother put it there. I’m sure of it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because of the way it’s taped. Miko always wrapped envelopes with three strips of tape with a crisscross at the back so he’d know if anyone else tried to read his mail and then reseal it.”
“Weird...but okay. We should still give it to forensics.”
“Whatever is in this envelope is not leaving my hot little hands.” He tucked the envelope into the interior pocket of his jacket, and after one final sweep of the bar, he headed for the door, satisfied they’d found all that would be of use to them there. “Let’s go before we turn into popsicles.”
“You’re seriously not going to turn that envelope over to the proper authorities?”
“Nope. As far as I’m concerned, the proper authorities haven’t done a good enough job to earn my trust with this case. And that definitely includes you.”
She glared, but he didn’t care. “You make it really hard to like you,” she finally said.
He grinned. “That’s okay, honey. I ain’t looking for a dinner date. C’mon, let’s go someplace secure and see what my brother kept squirreled away.”
His hands were frozen, but his heart was lighter than it’d been in months. Finally, a break. Thank God for Miko’s penchant for hiding things. It was oddly comforting to know that even though Miko had changed, some things had remained the same.
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