Page 9 of Axel (Reed Hawthorne Security #6)

Axel

“Thanks for meeting me here,” Agent Steven says as we stand outside a public library on the Upper East Side.

“Why are we here?” I ask.

“The anonymous tip form was sent in from one of the computers here. We need to question the staff and find out if there is any video footage or photos that might show who submitted it.”

I frown and glance at Durango, who also doesn’t look happy.

“Why do we need to know who the tip came from?” I ask. “I thought you said it was related to an investigation you already had going on and you needed us to confront or infiltrate the gun smugglers.”

She glances around, but no one is paying any attention to us. “I need both. The person who reported this might be inside the organization. Which means he might give up more information in exchange for protection. ”

I relax a little. “Yeah, that makes sense. Do you know anything about this person? Man, woman, young, old?”

“Nothing yet.” She opens the door.

We follow her to the main desk, where she flashes her FBI ID and requests to view the sign-in sheet for the public computers. The person behind the desk leads us to an office in the back.

“We keep everything electronically, so let me pull that up for you. It was last week?” the librarian asks.

“Yes, on Saturday at three in the afternoon,” Stevens says.

Saturday seems so long ago. It was the day Savvy and I were caught up in the explosion.

“At that time, I show two students, minors, three names I recognize as regulars, and…” she sighs.

“What’s wrong?” Stevens asks.

The librarian stands up. “I’ll be right back.”

She leaves the room.

I walk over to the computer and try to see what was so upsetting. “It says Beautiful Woman.”

The librarian returns with a teenage boy following her. “This is Jake. He checked someone out for a computer on that date but didn’t get her name, which we require, along with some kind of identification.”

Jake’s cheeks redden as he stares at the floor.

“Jake, tell us everything you remember about the woman,” Stevens says.

“Um.” He swallows. “She asked to use the computer and said she didn’t have any ID on her. I told her I needed ID, and then she begged me. She said it was life or death, and she looked really scared. I couldn’t say no.”

“Describe her,” Durango says.

Jake nods. “She was really pretty but older. Around forty, I think. Dark long hair. And she was wearing a nice dress.”

Stevens closes her eyes, and even though I don’t know her well, I can tell she’s frustrated. “Do you have video cameras here?” she asks the librarian.

“Yes, we do. Let me pull it up. Jake, come here and tell me if you see her.”

Jake stands behind the librarian as she goes through videos. “That’s her!” he points at the screen.

She turns the monitor so we can see it.

Stevens pushes some wayward hair behind her ear. “All we get is the back of a blue coat and a raised hood. No face.”

“Let me see if I can find when she leaves.” The librarian fast forwards through the video. “Here we go.” Then she plays it for us.

The woman walks from the computers to the front door, looking down with her hood on.

“She knows about the cameras,” Stevens says.

It does appear she is avoiding them.

“Well, at least now we know we are looking for a woman,” I say.

“In a blue coat,” Durango adds.

Stevens blows out a breath. “Yeah, that will narrow it down. Thank you for your time. Let’s go.”

We follow her outside in silence .

Durango claps his hands together. “Who wears a coat in this weather?”

He’s right. Even though summer is ending, it’s been warm. A jacket is all that might be needed.

“Someone who doesn’t want her face seen,” Stevens says. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

We follow her to her car. She stops at a dark SUV down the road.

“Great spot,” I say.

She shrugs. “I have luck with parking places.”

We’re all silent on the drive to Staten Island. My mind keeps going back to Savvy and hoping she’s safe. Then I chastise myself for losing focus on an assignment. Finally, Stevens pulls up a couple of blocks away from the waterfront and parks.

“The building we will be working out of is a block over.” Stevens opens the door and gets out.

Durango and I get out and meet her at the trunk. She opens it and pulls out a duffel bag.

“Whoever gave you this tip isn’t from New York,” I say.

Stevens glances around. “Why do you say that?”

“And I can tell you aren’t from here, either,” I add. “Because this is Staten Island. The person would have said that if they were from here.”

Stevens stares at me. “Staten Island is New York.”

We grab our bags and close the trunk.

“I’m not saying it isn’t. It’s just a person would have been more specific,” I say.

Stevens is already walking down the street, so we follow her. She makes her way to the back door and unlocks it. We all enter. It appears to be an abandoned office that was gutted a while ago. It smells musty, and there is a thick layer of dust on the tables lining the wall.

“That warehouse there is the one we are watching,” Stevens says as she points out the front window to a warehouse across the street.

“It has seen better days,” Durango says.

He’s not wrong. The roof has a tarp over part of it, and there is graffiti all over the front.

A car pulls up across the street. We all step away from view but keep monitoring the activity.

“What are the chances we got this lucky so fast?” Durango asks.

A young man gets out of the car, carrying two pizza boxes. An older man meets him outside and takes the boxes from him. Then the young guy drives away.

“Nope. Just pizza delivery,” I say.

“Yes, but we got to see Robert.” Stevens holds up her phone, showing us a photo of the man, and it matches who we watched grab the food.

“Good. We know he’s there. But for all we know, he might be sending the guns somewhere via the water and we won’t see anything from here,” Durango says.

He’s right. We are facing the street side of this warehouse and not the ocean side.

She unzips the duffel bag. “I mentioned there was another investigation. We had two agents following a trail of guns used in a variety of crimes throughout the northeast. They all trace back here to a man everyone calls Artemis. ”

“Have you found the guy?” I ask.

She pulls out binoculars and holds them out. Durango takes them.

“No. It’s an alias. We know little about him, which is why I was happy when this tip came in. It might finally connect the dots.” She hands me a second pair of binoculars.

“You think Robert is Artemis?” Durango asks.

“It’s possible, although we suspect it’s a nickname for someone much more connected to all the players,” Stevens says.

We spend the rest of the day surveilling the warehouse. There are no deliveries or even visits. After it gets dark, a man steps out from the side of the building.

“That’s him,” Stevens says.

“Bob Kuffel,” I say.

Stevens frowns at me.

“Savvy refers to him as Bob.”

“I still need to talk to her,” Stevens says.

“She hasn’t called me back yet,” I say.

Why hasn’t she called me back? I can’t help but worry about her.

Bob walks to the street as a car pulls up. He gets in, and it drives away. Stevens grabs her phone and starts typing.

“You get the plate?” Durango asks.

“I did. Checking on it now.”

The room we are in grows dark now that the sun has set. There are no lights on in the warehouse. I suspect the man has gone home for the night, but we can’t be certain.

“Got a hit. It looks like the car belongs to his mother. ”

Durango sits down and leans against a wall. “Gotta be honest here. I’m not getting any vibe from this guy that he’s invested in criminal activity.”

“How do you know his mom isn’t a mob boss?” I ask.

Durango laughs. “Guess I don’t.”

Stevens stares at her phone. “Mom is clean, and she lives about five minutes from here.”

“I’ll bet five dollars she’s taking him home for dinner,” I say.

Durango’s stomach growls. “I don’t suppose anyone brought any food with them?”

“There’s a burger shop a few blocks over. Why don’t you go grab us all dinner?” Stevens says.

Durango pulls up a map on his phone and locates the place. “Sounds good. Burgers and fries good for everyone?”

“Works for me, thanks,” Stevens says.

“Me too,” I say.

Durango leaves as Stevens and I keep watch out the window.

“How long you been with the FBI?” I ask.

“A while,” she says. “How long have you been with Reed Hawthorne Security?”

I grin. “A while.”

We wait in silence until Durango returns. After a few hours, Stevens keeps yawning.

“We should probably take shifts so we aren’t all exhausted,” I suggest.

She nods. “That’s a good idea.”

The moon has moved just enough that it barely lights up the space. All there is for sleep is the bare floor, but it will have to do.

“I’ll take the first shift of watch,” I say.

Stevens and Durango each lie down, and it doesn’t take long for both of them to fall asleep. Few cars go by on the road. I try to distract myself by searching for stars, but they are too hard to see with all the light pollution.

A person walks by on the sidewalk. Based on the walk, it’s a woman.

She’s wearing a coat with a hood, but I can’t see her face.

It’s dark, so I can’t make much out, but she seems out of place here.

But the way she walks is familiar. I watch her as long as I can, and at the end of the block, she turns right.

A few minutes later, a box truck pulls up in front of the warehouse. Robert climbs out, followed by a man I’ve never seen.

“Hey guys, this might be it,” I say to wake Durango and Stevens.

“What’s going on?” Stevens asks.

The floor creaks as she and Durango get up.

She’s up, taking photos of the two men before I can answer. Durango is next to me in an instant. We all watch as the two men walk around the side of the warehouse and disappear.

A few minutes later, they both reappear, each carrying one end of a large crate. They load it into the back of the box truck, which we have a full view of at our angle. It’s the only item in it. The driver closes the back as Bob returns to the building .

The man left outside calls someone. Then he climbs into the truck and drives away.

Bob walks back out to the street and heads down the road, out of sight.

“I’ll go get eyes on him,” I say.

I exit the building out the back and walk to the street, staying out of the moonlight. When I reach the corner, I peek around it. Bob is getting into a car. He drives off and doesn’t double back, fortunately.

Now would be a good time to check out that warehouse. I head out to the main road and spot the woman in the coat walking on the opposite side. She passes under a streetlight. Her coat is blue. It’s the same coat from the library video. It’s the informant.

I run across the street toward her. She must hear my footsteps because she takes off. I catch up and grab her arm. She screams as I spin her around. When I remove the hood, it’s me who’s in for a shock.

“Savvy?”