Page 32 of Cyn
“Well, I guess we now know what James McElroy was doing on his days off,” Cyn said. Joe turned in his seat to look at her. “I know him,” she said, pointing to the man in the photo that McElroy was talking to. The two men were standing in a doorway, McElroy looking like he wanted to enter while the other man held the door preventing him. There was nothing aggressive or defensive about either man’s posture, it simply looked like the man at the door didn’t want to invite McElroy in.
“Who is it?” Joe asked.
“His name is Abir. He’s an information guy. No loyalties to anything or anyone other than money. The only reason he’s still alive is because the information he peddles isn’t worth killing over.”
“What would McElroy want from him? And how would he even know of him?”
Cyn sat down then leaned back. “Djibouti is a poor country. I think we both know how quickly money can get certain people talking. That picture was taken six weeks before McElroy died. My guess is that McElroy spent his first few times off base trying to find someonelikeAbir, someone who had information he wanted.”
“And we’re going on the assumption that he wanted information about Al-Shabaab,” Joe said. “But again, to what end?”
Cyn shook her head. “Bring up the other pictures again, please.”
He did as asked, and she examined the remaining three. In one, McElroy appeared to be studying someone’s home. In another, he was walking down the street, his gaze focused on a man ten feet in front of him. And in the third, he was talking to the same man as in the second.
“We need to find out who that man is,” she said, pointing to the image.
“Will Mac know?”
“Maybe, but he can always run it through facial recognition if he doesn’t. So can I, when I get home,” she added.
“Want to place a bet he’s tied to Al-Shabaab somehow?” Joe asked.
Cyn laughed. “Sucker’s bet. Now why don’t you get us a couple of beers to enjoy while we fit in a little work before heading into town?” She paused, then grinned. “If we’re lucky, maybe we’ll even run into Abir tonight.”
Chapter Eleven
Cyn walkedinto the foyer of her home and dropped her bag on the floor as she typed a text to Devil, Nora, and Six letting them know she and Joe were home. There’d been a delay with their commercial flight, so instead of landing in the afternoon, Boston time, it was now close to eleven at night. By the time she made it to her kitchen, each of the women had replied and let her know they would come by tomorrow after work. Cyn smiled at their immediate responses.
A fourth ding issued from her phone, and she looked down to see a text from Joe. She’d dropped him off at his house before coming home, and no doubt he wanted to make sure she’d made it the three miles to her own home.“You home? Did you let the club know we’re back?”
“Yes, and they’ll all be here tomorrow afternoon,”she texted back as she poured herself some sparkling water.
“Any updates from Mac?”
They’d given Mac the four images Meleak had provided, and he’d promised to run them through the recognition program. If she didn’t have an email from him yet, she’d start running the images through her own system once she was settled in. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to get any intel from Abir as he’d been out of town visiting his mother for a few days. That little bit of information had cost her twenty bucks.
“Haven’t checked my email. Hold on,”she wrote back. Switching to her email app, she saw nothing from Mac. It was early in the morning in Djibouti, she might hear from him in a few hours, but it couldn’t hurt to start running her own program.
“No news. I’ll run it through my program tonight,”she said. He acknowledged the text, then their thread went silent. She stared at her phone, feeling oddly unsettled. They’d spent five days more or less in each other’s pocket yet she found she wanted to see him again. She wanted him in her kitchen having a glass of wine or beer with her and then she wanted him beside her when she fell asleep that night. They hadn’t crossed the sex threshold yet, but he had slept beside her on the flight home, and she’d liked—really liked—having his arm wrapped around her, heavy and strong, as if he was anchoring her to something important.
She was thirty-eight years old and for the first time in her life, she wanted to spend time with a man she was interested in for more than a romp or two in bed. The feeling was a novel one, and she considered whether or not she should dwell on it a little more. But then good sense got the better of her and she told that little voice inside her head to pipe down.
She looked at her phone and considered how easy it would be to send him an invitation to come over for the night. She was pretty sure he’d come. Thinking about the goodnight kiss they’d shared when she’d dropped him off earlier had her shifting on her feet.
One little bit of reality held her off, though. She had tomorrow free to sleep in, get ready for her first day of classes—which started the day after tomorrow—and generally be the master of her own schedule. Joe didn’t have that luxury. It was eleven o’clock at night, and he had to be in the office at seven in the morning for a full day’s work.
She sighed and went with the next best option.
“I think Six only works a half day tomorrow. They’ll all probably be here around four. Want to join? Maybe stay for dinner?”she texted.
The “read” message appeared below her text, but no little bubbles popped up letting her know he was responding. Her heart started to thud, and she began to wonder if maybe she’d jumped in a little too fast this time. After all, they’d spent five days together, maybe he needed a break?
The phone rang in her hand, startling her. She glanced at the screen and saw Joe’s name.
“Hello?” she answered.
“If I come over tomorrow, I’m not going home after dinner,” he said.
