Realizing he was still standing outside, vainly hoping she’d forgotten something so she’d have to come to retrieve it, he shook his head at his foolishness and walked back inside. Iris was waiting for him.
“That was some real heat you and Ms. Ware were generating there.”
“I think I’m in love.”
She laughed. She’d been his admin for two years and was as efficient as she was observant. “Let me know when the wedding is, but in the meantime, cool off. Your bat phone rang while you were outside. Sterling wants a face-to-face. He left a link.”
Damn! Switching gears, he cleared his mind of the lovely Jasmine and went to his office. Chris Sterling worked for the Justice Department. They’d known each other since their days together at the Air Force Academy. Although Torr didn’t consider him a friend, they shared a mutual respect.
He tapped the secure link. The connection opened, and the craggy face of the blond, blue-eyed Sterling came on-screen. After greeting him, Torr asked, “What can I do for you, Sterling?”
“Two things. First. Defense needs one of their translators picked up and flown out.”
“From?”
“Sanaa.”
Yemen. Not my favorite place to send my crew. “Timeline?”
“ASAP.”
For the next twenty minutes, Torr asked questions and Sterling offered answers. Once he was comfortable with the plan’s logistics and was certain his crew would have the necessary backup to get in and out of the city safely, the conversation moved on to the second reason for the call.
“We’re trying to locate an artifact recently smuggled out of Mali. How familiar are you with the ancient library at Timbuktu?”
“Not very, but I can look it up.”
“Okay. The library was in what we now know as Mali, and many of the library’s old books have been hidden away for hundreds of years in the homes of some of the locals. Rebels swept through a few years ago, and what books they didn’t burn, they stole. One was on astronomy. It’s priceless—not only intellectually but culturally. It turned up a few months ago on the international black market. A Canadian was the seller. Law enforcement arrested him. Court let him out on bail. Two days later, he was murdered. Before his death, the Canadian authorities think the book was mailed to a man in Detroit. This is where the case gets sticky for you. Your brother Kel’s name has shown up on the investigation list.”
Torr froze.
“It’s due to his connection to a company he contracts with, a place called CODEX, run by a woman named Jasmine Ware. Do you know her?”
“I do. How is she involved?”
“Ware has used Elliot Vernon on and off for a few years to secure books for her business, and we want to know if she’s also involved in the theft.”
“Does Kel know Vernon?”
“Yes. He did some carpentry work for Vernon’s office and home. Not sure if he was recommended to Vernon by Ms. Ware or not. Her ties to Vernon go back decades. Looks like he’s a friend of the family. Your brother and Ware show up numerous times on Vernon’s cell phone log and emails.”
Torr didn’t like the sound of this. He knew Kelvin wouldn’t involve himself in anything illegal. He hoped Jasmine wouldn’t either, but he didn’t know her well enough. “So has Vernon been picked up?”
“He’s gone missing. Along with his wife. The Canadians think the smugglers may have been double-crossed, because Vernon’s partner was murdered a week ago. Whoever killed him cut off his hands.”
“Damn. So, the two murders may be related.”
“Quite possible.”
“Do you think Vernon has the book?”
“No way of knowing for sure, but that’s another possible.”
“I know my brother isn’t involved, and I’m not letting him be targeted. I’ll hunt down Vernon myself if I have to.”
“I knew you’d want to know, so I’m telling you this off the record.”
“I appreciate that.”
“How well do you know the CODEX owner?” Sterling asked.
“Just met her today.” He explained their meeting. “Have the FBI or any of our agencies talked to her yet?”
“As far as I know, no. Although the Mali government reached out to the State Department for assistance, this isn’t a high-profile case for anyone here, at least not yet. Everyone seems content to let the Canadians ride point.”
Torr didn’t want to believe Jasmine Ware was involved, but he wasn’t risking his brother being accused of smuggling, Shakespeare quotes or not. His upcoming lunch date with her now had a whole new dimension, one he didn’t care for. “Off the record, I’ll start looking for Vernon. I can beg forgiveness later. I know some people at the Bureau I can quietly reach out to. The sooner my brother’s name is cleared, the better.”
Torr wasn’t sure how to proceed with Jasmine, however. Should he leave her in the dark? That seemed unfair, but if she was involved, he didn’t want to tip her off and maybe send Vernon even deeper underground if the man was indeed in hiding and not already dead like his partner.
Torr sighed. “You’ll let me know if anything else comes to light?”
“I will, and let me know if you find him.”
“Will do.”
They said their goodbyes, and Torr called his brother. When they were done talking, he touched base with his second-in-command and set the wheels turning on the rescue mission in Yemen.
On her way back to the office, Jasmine decided to swing by the Vernons’ place to see if they were home. They lived nearby in a neighborhood known for its stability, tree-lined streets, and well-kept brick homes.
As she eased the Mustang to the curb in front of their small, two-story brick home, the yellow police tape circling the property grabbed her attention. Alarmed, she got out, wondering what it meant. Next door, a young man wearing hospital scrubs and carrying a backpack stepped out and descended the stairs.
“Excuse me,” Jasmine said before he could continue on wherever he was going. “Can I ask why the police tape is here?”
“Somebody broke in night before last. Cops said the perps came in through the back door and totally trashed the place. Drawers and closets emptied out onto the floor, furniture and mattresses slashed. Ms. Elaine across the street saw movement inside and called 911. By the time the police showed up, whoever it was had split. Police said perps were apparently looking for something.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Vernon weren’t here, I take it?”
He shook his head. “Nobody’s seen them for a couple of days. You related?”
“No. Just a family friend. I was supposed to be picking up a package from Mr. Vernon.”
“Hope it wasn’t what the bad guys were looking for.”
As he got into his car and drove away, she hoped not too. Walking back to her own vehicle, she noticed a black town car parked directly across the street. She didn’t remember it being there when she arrived. The dark-tinted windows kept her from seeing who, if anyone, was inside. Forcing herself not to stare, she started the engine. Still concerned about the Vernons, she drove off and called her dad.
“Hey, Daddy.”
His voice came through the speakers. “Hey, baby girl. How are you?”