Page 38 of S.O.S. Perk

Elody laughed. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about in that regard. The man has—”

“Agent Vessers, Agent Tertia,” Baskins voice barked from the doorway of the conference room just down the hall. “To me, stat. We’ve had a break in the case.”

The two women looked at each other before hotfooting it toward the room where everyone else was still convened.

“What’s up?” Sloane asked, getting a glance at a plethora of excited faces as both she and Elody took seats.

“We have confirmation that Kaelyn Jeffersonisin the Nelsin home.”

‘Your drone?” Elody asked Del.

“Uh, uh,” Del responded. “Jeremy must have gotten spooked at something that happened at school today, because he made a call. It was untraceable. To a burner phone. But we got it recorded. Nelsin told whoever was on the other end of the linethat he felt things were getting hot at school; he wasn’t sure if he could keep the girl at the house any longer. He asked the person he’d contacted if they could take Kaelyn away.” His face grew deadly serious. “The person on the other end, using a voice changing app, was not cooperative. They told the boy that Kaelyn was Jeremy’s mess to clean up, and that he needed to ‘take care of the problem’ himself.”

Baskins scowled. “Jeremy confirmed that he’d do what needed to be done. Tonight.”

The boss didn’t bother to hide his desire to get everyone’s ideas on how to take this on. “What we need is a plan that gets the girl out of danger without blowing our investigation.”

Everyone in the room understood, and the air filled with adrenaline as Baskins threw down the gauntlet.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Perk’s brain cooked all the way back to his temporary residence. He’d wanted to be part of getting the girl to safety, and it looked like that might happen. It was one of the reasons he’d joined the Army, and then the OPD. He’d been looking for ways to make a difference, even if it was helping one person at a time. So far, his career hadn’t exactly panned out to much of that, so being tagged as the inside man on this job made his blood hum in his veins.

He pulled his ancient Volvo up to the house, and getting out, he skulked inside.

A big-ass cold cut sandwich wouldn’t hurt to help him get centered.

Perk opened a package of ham and salami, then placed his slabs of bread on a plate. But before he could get down to business, his phone rang. His real phone. With a blocked number. That could only be…

“Hello?”

“Perk, this is Baskins. We need you back here. Right now.”

Perk’s heart leapt. He didn’t waste any time asking questions.

“I’m headed.”

Something definitive must have happened. He fist-pumped to himself, grabbed the cold cuts, threw them on the unprepared bread, and scurried out the door. He’d gladly eat a dry sandwich any day of the week if it meant the operation was moving ahead.

When he pulled into the FBI’s parking garage, swallowing the last of his midnight meal, he noted that not one of the cars that had been there when he’d left, had moved. All the agents and Perk’s team were still present.

Why then, did they need him?

Perk brushed the crumbs off his shirt, got out of his car, and headed to the elevator.

He’d find out soon enough.

“Ah, Mr. Perkins. Glad you could rejoin us,” Baskins greeted as soon as he walked into the conference room.

“No place I’d rather be,” Perk responded. “So, what’s going on?”

Baskins deferred to Del, who didn’t mince words.

“After you left, Perk, our drone surveillance confirmed that Kaelyn is indeed at Nelsin’s house. The problem is, Jeremy told whoever he’s working with that he’ll be ‘taking care of her’ tonight. Which doesn’t sound good, and also means we can’t afford to sit on the intel and hope you get inside the house tomorrow. We’ve been brainstorming ways of getting the girl to safety without blowing our op.”

Perk thought for a moment. “Why don’t we just go in and grab her? We can intimidate Nelsin into complying by telling him he either plays along with the Feds without tattling to his string-puller, or he gets locked away somewhere for the rest of his life without even his computer for company. That ought to motivate him.”

“We thought about that,” Sloane acknowledged. “But we realize that kids, especially brilliant ones like Jeremy can be arrogant. He might figure he has this all under control even though he doesn’t. In which case he’ll try to manipulate things to his advantage, eventually squealing to his contact as a possible Hail Mary, which will then derail everything.”

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