The Silent Threat by Elle Gray

Author:Elle Gray [Gray, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Blake Wilder FBI Mystery
Published: 2023-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

The Cobalt Lounge, Beacon Hill District; Seattle, WA

“Thanks for meeting me,” I say.

“Not a problem. But what’s with all the cloak and dagger?” she asks. “Why not just meet at the field office?”

“There’s a lot going on down there right now,” I say. “So, until I’m sure of a few things, I’d rather keep you in the shadows.”

“Kind of like a secret weapon, huh?”

“Exactly like that,” I say with a small laugh.

The Cobalt Lounge is an out-of-the-way place where I don’t have to worry very much about being seen. It’s not a very big place, and the lighting is fairly dim. The tables and booths are all crafted from light-colored wood and deep blue-colored cushions. The bar runs along the left wall of the building. The wall behind it is lined with frosted glass shelves, lit from below and filled with liquor bottles. Deep, rich blue neon lighting lines the top of the walls, and Bob Seger’s “Mainstreet” plays at an acceptable level from speakers mounted all around the place.

It’s off the beaten path and is a place I’ve met CIs before because it’s usually frequented by regulars, and outsiders tend to stand out. It’s not too difficult to pick out the people who don’t belong here. It’s why I asked Spenser to meet me here when she called and told me she was in town and that she needed to talk. So, after we finished up at Masuda’s shop, I slipped away to meet her clandestinely. Astra didn’t like the idea of me going alone, but I pulled rank and told her to go home for the night and that I’d catch her up on it all in the morning.

She brushes her thick, black hair over her shoulder, and her jade-green eyes flit back and forth around the room as she takes a drink of her Manhattan. Spenser is tall and athletic. And with her olive-colored skin and almond-shaped eyes, she’s got an exotic and somewhat mysterious look about her that I’m sure most men find appealing. She and Astra could probably stage a beauty contest on their own.

I take a sip of my drink and get her up to speed about what’s going on down at the field office. I tell her all about Caitlyn’s mole and our need for secrecy. She listens to everything without interrupting, and when I’m done, she puts her glass down and nods.

“Well, it sounds like you have a lot going on up here,” she says.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“And you’re sure this Masuda guy is involved?”

“I’m positive. One hundred percent positive,” I say.

“Why are you so sure?”

“Aside from the fact that both cars used in these crimes were from his lot?”

She nods. “Aside from that, since, by your own admission, you found zero trace evidence in the SUV and the van,” she says. “Speaking of which, have you found anything on his employees that indicate their involvement?”

“Nothing,” I admit.

“Okay, so back to my original question,” she says. “How do you know this

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