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“Why?” Fascinated, Fleur leaned over to look in Ronan’s ear. The tiniest earbud in all of creation was nestled inside. “That’s how you hear him?” Ronan nodded. “How do you talk to him? Where’s the mic?”
Ronan smiled. “Trade secret. If I told you, I’d have to?—”
“Kill me. I know, I know.”
“God, no. I’d have to get you to sign an NDA, and I’m fresh out of those.”
She blinked and then laughed at him. “You’re the most unexpected man.”
“Glad I can keep you amused.”
“You do,” she said and pointed at the papers. “Are we done with these?”
“Not quite. Do you have duty schedules on who works the communications tent on Tuesdays?”
She felt the smile slip off her face. “I can get them from Miller.”
“Ask him for that and something else. I don’t want to tip our hand.”
Her gut dropped. “Why? Do you think he’s involved?”
“No.” Ronan shook his head. “But if you were asked for that information and you knew the person asking was working on the convoy issue, would you do some snooping of your own?”
Fleur nodded. “I would. So would Miller.” She sighed and tapped the top of the table with her pen. “I can ask for duty rosters from admin, communications, and kitchen areas.”
“Perfect. Since the beginning of the year, please.” Ronan pulled the reports toward him. “Now that we know which day to focus on, we can look for other similarities.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
Ronan nodded as she stood up. “I’ll be here.”
Fleur walked next door and called at the flap. “Miller, okay to enter?”
“Sure, come on in.” Miller had a fan on his desk,and the air moved comfortably around the small tent. “What can I do for you?”
“The Guardian people want the duty rosters for admin, communications, and the kitchen area since the beginning of the year.”
“There in the filing cabinet.” He pointed behind her. “Under duty rosters, but why would they want them?”
“I can honestly say they are leaving no stone unturned.” She blew out a breath of air. “Details, details, details.” Which was the truth.
Miller chuckled. “Well, at least they’re trying. I hope they find something soon. Maybe we can relocate most of these people before we have to bug out.”
“I hope so, too.” Fleur grabbed the files. “I’ll have these back to you as soon as they’re done.”
“Sounds good,” Miller said distractedly, working on whatever was before him.
Fleur exited his tent and went back into hers. “Here you go.” She put the file for the communications tent in front of Ronan.
“All right. We need to find out who works on Tuesdays.” Ronan grabbed half the stack and handed her the other half. He stopped and looked up at her. “Unless you have something else you need to do?”
She shook her head. “There are over a hundredstaff members in camp. Only three of us work on convoys now.” There used to be six. Two other sections had lost two people each. She lowered her eyes to the rosters.
When Ronan tapped her foot with his boot, she lifted her gaze. His deep voice promised, “We’ll find out how this happened and who’s responsible.”
She smiled sadly. “It’s still raw. Does it ever get easier?”
“Eventually, the pain dulls. For me, the memories are just as sharp as the day it happened, but the emotions are … contained.”