As they walked back to the cottage, Chad assured Emma that she shouldn’t get overly concerned. His take was that she happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and caught a hunter on her land. Finding the casings had reinforced what he’d already suspected. He handed her a business card. “Call me if you have any trouble. We’ll examine the casings. I’ll spread the word around that we’re looking into this and that might be enough of a deterrent to keep whoever it was off your property in the future. Still, keep your eyes open and don’t take any unnecessary chances for the time being,” he said before climbing back into his cruiser.
* * *
EMMA PUSHED HER chair back and rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension from having been sitting at her computer most of the morning working on an assignment. The chair’s legs scraping over the floorboards woke Max. He was stretched out on his good side beside the desk. She was glad his wound was healing well. When she glanced over at him, he rolled partially onto his back and raised a front paw into the air to invite a belly rub. With a quick laugh, she dropped down next to him to oblige.
She soon had the large dog purring almost like a cat. When she stood up, she pressed her hands to the small of her back and stretched to loosen the kinks.
Although she’d continued to be nervous about working for Arlene Greenberg, with Josh’s encouragement, she’d finally accepted another assignment from her. Yes, she worried about not doing a good job, but Pinnacle had hired a full-time staffer, so Elite Consulting was her only source of income for the time being. She tried to remain positive.
Checking her watch, she decided to take the dogs out and then spend some time going through Daniel’s files. “How about a walk?” she asked Max. He was immediately up on all fours. With an affectionate rub of his head, she left her office, Max close beside her.
Theo was sprawled on the floor in the kitchen. He came to attention as Emma and Max entered. Grabbing her coat, she led them out the back, and they had a leisurely walk around the property.
Back inside, she took Daniel’s files into the great room. Josh had said he’d be over that evening after dinner to help, but she wasn’t sure there was much either of them could do.
Emma had been through all the files at least once and most of them a few times. She was more convinced than ever that she wouldn’t be of any use to Daniel, although this time it wasn’t for lack of trying. She opened the file that contained the results of the tests of the rifles. Suddenly, she remembered that she’d never gotten around to comparing the report she’d gotten from Morgan to the one Daniel had tracked down.
She retrieved the copy of the testing report Morgan had given her. Turning from one page to the next, her attention was caught and she examined a page more carefully.
“That’s odd,” she said out loud. The font size for the paragraphs outlining the test results appeared to be slightly larger than for the rest of the document. Then she noticed something else. In the left margin of the page, there was an imprint, a scoring of the paper. Although illegible, it seemed to be handwriting.
She took the report with her to her office and rummaged through a drawer until she found a soft-leaded pencil. With the point sideways, she gently rubbed the tip over the scoring until the entire area was lightly shaded. The writing was now clear in reverse contrast. There were two lines of script angled across the margin. The beginning of the lines flowed off the paper. What was visible read:
ll Grant. Let him
ow this version is acceptable.
Emma huffed out a breath and leaned back in her chair. Someone must have placed a piece of note paper on top of the report and jotted a message. But what were the missing letters?
She copied the truncated message on her own notepad and started writing down words that ended in ll and ow that might fit. She tried various combinations until she had it narrowed down to what she considered most likely.
The first word could be call or tell. Either made sense. She was almost certain the letters missing from the second line were kn for know. Although she couldn’t be positive, she acknowledged that it wasn’t that important. The message was clear.
Grant had to be Grant Stewart, the scientist who did the testing of the rifles for American Freedom Munitions. It would be too much of a coincidence to be anyone else. And the version being acceptable seemed to imply what Daniel and she had suspected. The report had been altered—falsified. The difference in font size also pointed to that possibility.
But whose writing was it?
Then a thought occurred to her. She still had the handwritten note Morgan had given her with all his contact numbers. She scrambled up, startling the dogs in her rush to get her address book from her office. Finding the note, she compared the reverse image on the testing report and Morgan’s handwriting.
She was no expert, but the angle of the script, the showy flourishes for the capital letters and the unusual way the letter a was written—more like a type font than handwriting—caused her to conclude the writing on the margin of the report was Morgan’s. A handwriting expert would be able to verify it.
She pushed out of the chair and with a self-satisfied smirk on her face, she paced to the window and back. She’d done it! She found something that could show that Morgan had been aware of the defects with the rifles.
She thought about calling Josh. Checking the time, she realized he would be arriving shortly anyway. She did, however, leave a message for Daniel.
She fed the dogs and had a quick bite to eat, then retrieved the copy of Grant Stewart’s bio that she’d printed from the internet. His credentials were solid, his educational background impressive. The awards and recognitions bestowed on him considerable. There was nothing in his background to suggest he wasn’t competent or would be anything less than scrupulous, but if she was right about what the scribbled note meant, he was complicit, too. Someone else to be held accountable.
She examined his photo at the top left corner of the bio. It was a professional head shot of an unsmiling narrow face, with pale blue, watery eyes behind wire-framed glasses. He had short blond hair, showing the early stages of a receding hairline. There was something vaguely familiar about him.
When the dogs clambered up, she knew Josh had arrived. She followed them out, placing the file folder on the coffee table, and tossed the bio on top.
As soon as Josh walked in, he took Emma in his arms and held tight for a few moments. “Mmm, this is what I needed.”
She smiled up at him. “Bad day?”
He rubbed his palms over his face. “It started with an emergency call early this morning and it didn’t let up.”
“Would you like a glass of wine?” she asked as she led him into the kitchen.
“Thanks. It can’t hurt,” he responded.
She poured them each a glass and he followed her into the great room. Taking a sip, he placed his glass on the table. “What’s this?” he asked, picking up the sheet of paper with the photo on its top left corner.
“Oh, it’s the bio of the scientist who did the testing on the rifles.”
Josh frowned at it. “I don’t remember seeing it in any of the files.”
“You wouldn’t have. I printed it today from the web. I was curious about his credentials. But wait until you see what I found!”
“Mmm-hmm,” he responded distractedly as he continued to stare at the picture.
She could see he was trying to sort something out in his mind. “What’s up?”
“This guy looks familiar.” Josh continued to scrutinize the picture. “I just can’t place him.”
“So, about my news...” She opened the file and pulled out the report with the writing in the margin and the slip of note paper with Morgan’s handwriting on it.
Josh scanned both and glanced back up at Emma. “The writing looks to be the same person’s. Whose i
s it?”
She grinned. “The one on the note paper is Morgan’s. Which makes it likely that the one in the margin of the report is his, too!”
He looked at the truncated words. “What do you think it says?”
She explained what she thought.
“Have you told Daniel?” he inquired.
“Not yet. I tried his cell but it went direct to voice mail. If he really is under surveillance, it might not be a huge leap to think they’re monitoring his cell phone, too. I didn’t want to leave the details in a message, so I asked that he call me.”
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Josh was still thinking about the testing of the rifles and the scientist who did it. He was giving Toby, a charcoal-gray standard poodle, his annual physical, when an idea sprang to mind. His thoughts were racing while outwardly he remained focused on the examination, finishing up as quickly as possible without appearing to be rushing.
“Toby looks to be in excellent health, Mrs. Burton. He’s a beautiful dog and very well behaved.”
Lisa Burton beamed at him. “Thank you, Dr. Whitmore. Phil and I love our Toby. With our kids now off at college, we do dote on him. It’s a good thing he likes all the attention.”
“I’m sure he does,” Josh agreed as he ruffled the wiry fur on Toby’s head, and walked dog and owner out of the examination room.
He checked his watch. Two more patients and at least forty-five minutes before he could follow up on his supposition.
When Josh finally finished with his last patient of the day, he grabbed his coat, stopped in front of the reception counter and smiled at Sherri. “Turned out to be an okay day, huh?”
“Not bad. We’ve had worse,” she replied as she filed the records of their last patient.
“Sherri, I’m in a bit of a hurry. Would you mind locking up?”
“Not at all.” She grinned. “Hot date with Emma tonight?”
“You never know. But first there’s something else we need to deal with. Thanks for taking care of things,” he said. Whistling for Winston, he waved goodbye and rushed out the door with his dog.
He drove to Emma’s through lightly falling snow.
“You’re here earlier than I expected,” Emma said when he arrived.
He brushed his lips over hers. “Have you heard from Daniel?”
“Not yet, and it’s unusual for him to take so long to return a call.”
“Don’t worry about it. I had a thought today I want to check out. Where are the files?”
“In my office.” She tilted her head slightly. “I’ll go get them. Any particular file you want?”
She looked so darn endearing he almost forgot what had prompted him to rush over.
“The one with all the photos in it. The pictures of the senator and his associates by that boat. Bring the bio of the scientist who did the testing and last year’s American Freedom Munitions annual report, too, would you please?”
While Emma headed to her office, Josh added some logs to the fire in the great room and poured them each a glass of soda. When she returned, he handed her a glass, and accepted the file and documents. He took a close look at the photograph on the bio first. He then turned to the third page of the annual report, AFM’s president and CEO Jack Hughes’s message, and studied the photo.
Placing the bio inside the annual report to mark the page, he put the documents aside. Next, he found in the file folder the photo of the senator on the bow of the boat with a drink in his hand, slapping his companion on the back with the other.
Josh’s gaze shifted to the cabin of the boat. Holding the picture closer, he narrowed his eyes and focused on the two men visible through the cabin window.
“I knew it!” he exclaimed, startling Winston, who’d been in a deep sleep at his feet. “Sorry, pal.” He patted Winston’s head to reassure him.
Emma scooted forward to the edge of her chair. “What is it?”
“Hold on a second,” he said, pulling the photo out of its plastic sleeve and turning it over. Other than a number on the bottom right, the back was blank. He handed the photo to Emma. “Do you know when this was taken?”
“Yes,” she said, gesturing toward the file with her glass. “The log of the file contents inside the front gives the date and location for each photo.” She flipped over the photograph, as Josh had done. “This number should be on the list.”
He scanned the entries. “July 2015. At the senator’s summer house.” When he leveled his gaze on her, his smile was feral. “Independent testing, is it? Do you have a scanner?”
“Yes, in my office, but...”
He took the photo, the bio and the annual report with him. After scanning the photo, he sat down at her desk to manipulate the image. He zoomed in on the two men inside the cabin. He played with the resolution to clarify the image the best he could while Emma stood behind him, peering at the screen.
“This is as good an image as I’m going to get.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “What do you see?”
She shook her head. “Two men on a boat,” she said, stating the obvious.
“How about with this?” He opened the annual report to the president and CEO’s message, where he’d placed the bio. He held up the two pages for Emma to examine, one displaying Hughes’s image, the other Stewart’s.
Her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly as she let out a soft “Ohhh. It’s them, in the senator’s boat at his summer home.”
He smiled. “And that photo was taken over a year before the award of the contract.”
“And a year and a half before the so-called independent testing of the rifles,” she added, understanding. “So the senator had entertained not only the CEO of AFM at his summer home, establishing a clear connection before the tender, but they both knew Stewart, too, well before he was commissioned for the testing.”
Josh nodded. “Wait a minute!” he said suddenly. “There might be more to it than that.” He grabbed the AFM annual report again and leafed through it. “Well, what do you know,” he exclaimed again.
Emma inched closer to be able to see what he’d been reading.
“You said that the picture was taken in July 2015?” he asked.
“Yes. Why?”
In answer, he pointed to a paragraph a third of the way down the page.
She scanned it and shifted her gaze to hold Josh’s. “Hughes hadn’t been appointed as CEO at that time. Robert Ferguson held the position until the end of January 2016.”
“Isn’t that a cozy bit of coincidence that the man who facilitates the contract award, the man who would later run the company and the man who presumably falsified his own test report to allow the sale to go through all knew each other before the process even began.”
“It might be circumstantial, but it can’t be ignored.” She glanced down, her eyes resting on Hughes’s picture. She examined the photo more closely. “I’ve seen Stewart before.”
“There might have been another picture of him in the files.”
“No. That’s not what I mean. I’ve seen him in person. In Morgan’s office.”
Josh swiveled around in the chair and looked at her intently.
“I was waiting for an appointment with Morgan. My meeting before had been canceled, and since I was already in the area, I went directly to his office. I was there very early. He—Stewart, that is—was just leaving,” she added. “It had struck me as odd that when Morgan saw me waiting, he seemed to block my view of the man going out of his office.”
Josh drew her down on his lap and rubbed her back gently. “I’d say we have some information of substance for Daniel.”
“Yes.” She checked her watch. “I’m going to call him again.”
When her call went to voice mail again, she kept her message brief. “Daniel, it’s Em
ma. Please call when you get this message. Don’t worry about the time.”
She huffed out a breath and turned back to Josh. Now that they’d found something that could link Morgan with the faulty firearms, she was impatient to pass it on to Daniel. She gathered up the file and other documents, and placed them together in a single new red file folder and slipped it into her desk drawer. It seemed she might be able to help Daniel bring the senator to justice after all.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EMMA, JOSH, DANIEL and Daniel’s fiancé, Jenna, sat around Emma’s dining room table, file folders and papers piled in front of them. Jenna had accompanied Daniel, because she’d been helping him with his research. Although Daniel had a pad of paper and a pen, Jenna had her laptop in front of her.
As none of them had had time for dinner, Emma put out a variety of snacks in serving bowls in the center of the table along with two bottles of wine, one white, the other red. Emma munched on a pretzel as she opened the red file folder in front of her. She glanced around the table, her gaze settling on Daniel. “Would you like me to start?”
At Daniel’s nod, Jenna positioned her hands over the keyboard.
Emma showed them the copy of the testing report she’d received from Morgan. Daniel and Jenna read the two lines of script:
ll Grant. Let him
ow this version is acceptable.
They filled in the missing letters as easily as Emma had. “Call Grant. Let him know this version is acceptable,” Daniel guessed. “If we only knew whose writing it was.”
“I think we do.” Emma showed them the sample of Morgan’s handwriting.
Daniel and Jenna agreed that it appeared that both notes had been written by the same hand. In response to Daniel’s question, Emma explained the report’s origin. With a little guidance, it didn’t take long for Daniel to notice the discrepancy in font size as well.
“Emma, this is very helpful. Each piece of the puzzle makes our case stronger, and this does point to Morgan.”