Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“That bad?” Gavin asked.
“Worse.” I shook my head with a sigh. “Guess we better go tell my parents.”
He guided me to the office with his palm on my lower back, something my mom was quick to notice, judging by the smug grin she wiped from her face when Gavin looked at her. Luckily, Stryker and Len were facing the door and missed it too.
“I’ve already found a lot of missing items.” I flipped through the sheets on my clipboard. “Firing modules, igniters, controlled pyrotechnic compounds, and equipment capable of being used in multiple destructive devices.”
“How much?” Stryker asked.
“I can’t give you exact numbers tonight.” I hated how true that was. “Until we do a full physical inventory against the field records, we’d only be making an educated guess. The electronic numbers may include transfers and material prepared for the fundraiser, so we’ll need to go old-school to be certain.”
Len nodded. “Tamsin is right. We need to count everything against the field records. I’ll get people here first thing in the morning.”
“I don’t think this can wait,” I argued, reluctant to let so many hours pass until we had answers.
Dad shook his head. “Everyone in this building has just gone through an explosion, Tamsin. Nobody’s at the top of their game right now. You included.”
Gavin scanned my face, and I wished I didn’t look how I felt because he agreed. “Morning.”
I wanted to point out that he didn’t run Bellamy Pyrotechnics, but my dad had made the decision first, and he actually did.
But Gavin must’ve read the temptation in my expression because he asked, “You want accurate numbers?”
“Obviously.”
“Then you need enough sleep to recognize them.”
I hated that he was right. And that he could see I knew it.
“Fine,” I grumbled.
Stryker pulled my gaze from the man who fascinated me more than I wanted to admit when he announced, “The club will keep the place locked down tonight.”
“We appreciate the help,” Dad thanked him. “We’ll start the physical audit in the morning.”
“First thing,” I added, earning me a deep chuckle from Gavin.
We headed out to the lot after Stryker finished giving orders to the men he was leaving behind. Gavin’s hand settled at my lower back again, guiding me to where I’d left my truck in the area reserved for employee parking.
“Who knew the warehouse would be this empty tonight?”
If only my answer was as simple as his question. “Anyone who knew we’d all be at the fundraiser. That list isn’t short.”
“How many people have access to the loading area?”
“Permanent staff with keys. Drivers when they’re dropping off. Vendors if they’re on the schedule. Contractors, sometimes.” I glanced up at him. “Temp crew aren’t supposed to have the code, but they’ve watched us punch it enough times to make a good guess.”
“How many of those people know the show schedule?”
“Probably too many.” I sighed. “The run sheet isn’t treated like a secret.”
None of what we’d found so far pointed at one person. The pool was too big.
“This is me.” I pointed at my extended-cab truck that made most men do a double take when they saw me driving.
Gavin just held the door open for me and waited until I was in the driver’s seat to murmur, “Drive safe.”
Then he shut the door and walked toward his motorcycle.
After the night we’d had, I shouldn’t have been surprised by the single headlight that pulled in behind me right after I turned onto the street.
I checked the mirror twice. Then a third time, just to be sure I wasn’t imagining it. But he was always there, following me through town and down the quiet street that led to the house my grandfather had built for my grandmother. By the time I parked in the drive, my adrenaline was giving way to exhaustion, and I couldn’t decide if I was irritated or relieved when he pulled in behind me.
I got out as he cut the engine. Another bike rolled up before I made it to the back of my truck to ask Gavin why he was here. When he met the rider at the curb and took a small duffel from him, I had the answer to my question. But I still asked it anyway.
“You’re staying here tonight?”
“Yup.”
He acted like this had been the plan since we left the warehouse, guiding me up the stairs and through the front door.
After setting his helmet on the table and duffel beside the couch, he checked the locks on the front and back doors and looked through the windows before drawing the blinds shut.
I watched him test the back door again. “Do you really think all of this is necessary?”
“You in charge of the inventory?” Gavin glanced over his shoulder. “The audit tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re a potential target.”
I was surprised by the flare of irritation at the idea that he was only here because he had to be. Which was ridiculous since I barely knew the guy.