In the Enemy's Sights - Marta Perry Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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was like him, to take something and pervert its ordinary purpose to something bent.

      She stopped at the table. He’d have heard her come down—he had ears like a fox.

      “Stop playing games and come out here. I don’t have much time.”

      A footstep grated, and he appeared in the archway. “You always have time for me, don’t you, querida?”

      She forced a smile, trying to show an affection she didn’t feel. “You sound even hoarser than usual. These tunnels aren’t good for your throat.”

      “Yet another thing for which I have to thank the Vances and Montgomerys. Making me hide like a rat in these tunnels, while they live the high life.” He yanked out a chair and slumped into it. “I understand Kenneth Vance is back in town.”

      “So I’ve heard.” She said the words cautiously, not wanting to stir his icy rage to life. He’d been livid at the failure of the attack he’d engineered on Vance’s plane through his drug contacts in South America.

      “These Vances have more lives than a cat. Just like my new name.” He gave a bark of gravelly laughter. “Funny, isn’t it?”

      “If you say so.” She shifted position, careful not to touch the dusty table. “You have something you want me to take care of?”

      “Yes.” He slapped his palms down on the tabletop. “Kenneth Vance is about to discover that Colorado Springs is just as dangerous as his missions over South America. And since he’s spending so much time there, it will be a pleasure to bring Montgomery Construction down with him.”

      She knew better than to argue, or to wonder how he knew so much about what Kenneth Vance was doing. He had his methods, and he didn’t tolerate disagreement with his plans.

      “What do you want me to do?”

      “Step up the vandalism—not enough to make the police take notice, just enough to make them nervous. I don’t want a full-scale investigation at this point. You can use that fool O’Brien.”

      “He’s getting scared. The police are paying too much attention to him.”

      He glared at her. “He’ll do as I say if he knows what’s good for him. So will you.”

      She shrugged. “Of course. Don’t I always? I just don’t see the point of breaking windows and painting on walls.”

      “I told you. Make them nervous. Make them wonder. And then, just when the Montgomerys and Vances think success is within their grasp—” He slammed his palm down on the tabletop again, so hard it shuddered. “Then we finish them.”

      “When did you find this?” Ken barked the question at the night watchman.

      Frank Collins bent, his belly straining over his belt buckle as he planted hands on his knees and stared at the slashed tires on the truck. “I told you. Around six this morning.”

      “Why didn’t you call anyone then?”

      The man shrugged. “I didn’t figure there was anything you could do about it then. I might as well wait until you got here.”

      “That’s not your decision to make. You should have reported.” He gritted his teeth. It probably would have done no good, but he still wished the man had followed orders. “Did you find any sign of how they got in?”

      Collins shot him a resentful glance. “Nah. Could have come over the fence, I guess.”

      He suspected Collins hadn’t bothered to look. The first thing he was going to recommend to Quinn was that they hire someone else to take over the night patrol. Since that was Quinn’s car coming toward them, he wouldn’t have to wait long to tell him.

      The car shrieked to a stop next to them. Quinn got out quickly, face tight with worry.

      Ken glanced at the mechanic who’d been checking the rest of the machinery in the equipment yard. “Jess, did you find anything else?”

      “Amateur hour,” the man said. “Sugar in a couple of tanks, but we caught it before any harm was done.”

      Quinn reached them in time to hear that. He ran a hand through his hair, some of the strain leaving his eyes. “That’s good to hear. Double-check everything before any equipment goes out of the yard.”

      “That’s going to put us behind at the hospital site,” Jess warned.

      “Do it as fast as you can, but don’t skip anything. I don’t want any foul-ups.” Quinn turned on Collins. “How could anyone get in here without you spotting them?”

      Collins shrugged, not meeting their eyes. “Can’t be everywhere at once, can I?”

      Quinn made a dismissive gesture. “All right. You can go home.”

      He waited until the man was out of earshot before snorting. “He was probably asleep in the office the whole time.”

      “Replacing him is the first thing I was going to suggest,” Ken said. “How serious is it to fall behind at the hospital site?”

      “Serious.” Quinn’s face grew tauter. “There’s been nothing but trouble there, and the hospital board is looking over my shoulder the whole time. There’s a substantial penalty for not completing on schedule. After the losses from the fire, we can’t afford to lose anything else.”

      “I’m sorry, man. You counted on me.”

      Quinn’s expression eased, and he punched his arm. “Forget it. Nobody expected you to spend your nights here. How do you think they got in?”

      “Good question.” The thoughts that had been lurking under the surface came out. “No obvious break-in signs. I can’t help but wonder about the people Julianna had in here yesterday.”

      Quinn gave a short nod. “Hard to believe, but you’d better check it out. Talk to her.”

      Easy to say. Not so easy to do. He glanced at his watch. She should be here by now. He’d better get it over with.

      Julianna moved away from the window when she saw Ken coming toward the office. It was hard to concentrate on work when everyone had heard about the vandalism, but standing around watching certainly wouldn’t help matters.

      “How bad is it?” she asked as he came through the door.

      “Not as bad as it could have been, I guess.” Concern set vertical crease lines between his eyebrows. “Sugar in the gas tanks, some slashed tires.”

      Ken shrugged out of the denim jacket he’d worn against the early morning chill. Did he realize that the caramel color of the sweater he wore brought out gold flecks in his brown eyes? Probably not, and probably she shouldn’t be noticing that.

      “Sounds like something teenagers would do.”

      He nodded, coming to sit on the corner of her desk. “That’s what I thought, too. If someone really wanted to cause trouble for the company, they wouldn’t bother with such small stuff.”

      “The police—”

      He shook his head. “Quinn doesn’t want the police called. The company doesn’t need any more negative publicity to make clients nervous about hiring us.”

      “I understand that, but surely we have to do something—at least try to find out who did it.”

      “He seems to think I can do that.” Ken’s frown deepened. “I keep telling him I don’t know anything about security, but he won’t listen.”

      “He’s known you a long time. He has confidence in you.” Odd, that she was reassuring Ken. She’d always thought he had more confidence in himself than anyone she knew. The accident must have dented that somewhat.

      “Well, I’m trying.” He frowned down at her, and something inside her tightened at his grim expression.

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