Covert Justice. Lynn Huggins Blackburn

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      “Two months ago, you hired a man by the name of Mark Hammond, I believe?”

      “Yes.”

      “Mark Hammond isn’t his real name.”

      Blake put his head in his hands. This couldn’t be happening. “I run background checks on all my employees.”

      “If you’ve got the money and the know-how, it’s not hard to create an identity that can withstand all but the most thorough of investigations.”

      “So—”

      “Mark Hammond’s real name is Markos Kovac. He’s the youngest grandson of the original Kovac and he has a lot to prove. He’s the baby of the family by quite a few years and most of his older brothers have already established their roles in the organization.”

      Blake sat up. “How do you know this?”

      “The Kovac family is my job.”

      She didn’t elaborate and the set of her mouth made him think she might not say more, but she swallowed hard and continued. “I know more about the Kovacs than anyone else in the Bureau. When Markos and his wife, Katarina, bolted for North Carolina, I followed. I’ve been here four weeks, watching, following, listening—trying to figure out what Markos is up to.”

      “I haven’t seen you.”

      “I’m an undercover agent. That’s kind of the idea.”

      Something about this whole conversation didn’t make sense. “What does any of this have to do with me? Mark may not like me, but I don’t think he’d run me off the road. Besides, I hate to tell you this, but he was at work when I left.”

      She started to answer, but he cut her off. “Has it occurred to you that maybe this guy wants to go straight? Maybe he wants to get out of the family business and live an honest life.”

      She bit the inside of her lip. “No one leaves the Kovacs. No one has even tried in the past fifteen years.” The words were more breath than whisper. She looked up at him and the pain on her face made him lean toward her. He wanted to comfort her, somehow, but he didn’t even know her.

      The moment passed. “What do you mean, about Markos not liking you?”

      Blake rubbed his face with his hands. “I’m sure it’s nothing. We’ve just had a few minor issues.”

      “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to decide whether your issues are minor or not.”

      Ah. Yes. There was the bossiness he remembered. “Fine. He’s had some inconsistencies with quality that none of our other supervisors have had. The last twenty or so off-quality batches we’ve produced happened on his watch. I’ve questioned him, even hung out during shifts, tried to ask around. There’s nothing I could prove in terms of negligence in his work, but I did tell Dad and Caroline that I was watching him. We’ve been wondering if he might be some sort of corporate spy.”

      “Do you have a lot of trouble with corporate espionage?”

      Blake couldn’t resist the opportunity to brag. “We make things no one else can make. Sure, we produce a lot of stuff that’s standard—your basic water bottles, food containers, chemical containers—but over the past ten years, we’ve built a reputation for making specialty containers no one else will even attempt. We make unique shapes and if we can’t make it, no one can. This year we landed a huge account for water bottles shaped like footballs, basketballs and baseballs. Our client has already sold them to over thirty professional teams. They hit baseball parks this summer. That account alone doubled the production on our specialty lines.”

      She didn’t seem as impressed as she should be.

      “We have some fierce competitors out there who would love to get an inside look at what we do.”

      Heidi raised her hands. “Okay. Okay. You guys are the best. I’m not disputing your status. But I know the Kovacs, and corporate espionage isn’t their style,” she said. “He’s here to do more than steal some trade secrets.”

      “Care to be more specific?”

      Heidi looked down. “I can’t.”

      “You what?”

      “I can’t be more specific, because I don’t know. That’s what I’m here to find out.”

      * * *

      Blake sat back in his chair. Heidi watched as the struggle to grasp her words played out across his face. They sat in silence for several minutes before he cleared his throat. “What does any of this have to do with me getting run off the road last night?”

      There it was. The question she’d been waiting for and the one she dreaded answering. “I don’t know. I’m hoping you might be able to help with that.”

      Skepticism radiated from his face. “Me?”

      “One of the things that has bugged me from the beginning is why Markos chose HPI.”

      “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

      “You make plastic containers. What’s dangerous about plastic? Sure, you store chemicals in high quantity, but he’d be able to get those in other places—places run by men who don’t have your reputation for high moral standards. I can’t figure out the connection between what you do at HPI and what he could be planning. But after last night, I’m certain of one thing.”

      “What?”

      “He believes you are standing in his way.”

      Blake stood and paced around the small living room. He’d taken this far better than she’d expected. He hadn’t thrown anything. He hadn’t asked her to leave. He hadn’t refused to believe her. His mind had to be in turmoil, but he didn’t appear rattled. If anything, he looked like a man who was formulating a plan of action.

      No. Not what she’d expected at all.

      He turned to her. “Are you hungry?”

      “Hungry?”

      “Yes. I’m starving. How do you feel about pizza?”

      “My feelings are generally favorable toward anything that involves cheese.”

      A true smile flickered across his face and Heidi looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time. Dark hair with a hint of curl. Dark brown eyes. Strong chin. He reminded her of the brooding movie stars of the ’40s. Until he smiled. His smile did something funny to her, but she didn’t have the time or inclination to explore the emotion.

      He pondered the phone in his hand. “Is it safe for me to have a pizza delivered?”

      She could tell he was trying to keep things light, even as he processed the seriousness of the situation. “It should be, but to be sure, you can use my phone.”

      He took her phone and dialed the number from memory. “What do you like?”

      “Meat. СКАЧАТЬ