Page 47 of Under Fire

“Who are you?” a loud voice boomed from behind Hollis. She turned and saw an older man and woman standing there. She immediately knew they were Nyla’s parents. Nyla favored her mother. Darlene Roker was sophisticated-looking and beautiful for her age. However, Hollis could see the strain behind both Nyla’s parents’ eyes. They probably weren’t getting much sleep at night from worrying about their daughter.

Hollis stood to face the older couple. “I’m Hollis Calloway, Mr. and Ms. Roker. And I’m an investigator for Karl Halifax’s defense.”

“Then I want you to leave because I won’t be providing you with any information. As far as I’m concerned, there is no defense for Halifax. He killed a man, and in doing so, he placed my daughter’s life in danger.”

“Karl Halifax says it was self-defense,” Hollis said.

“I read the papers, Ms. Calloway. He was at the warehouse that night, meeting with Donnie Barcos to get back into whatever illegal racket he’s been in all his life.”

“You don’t know that, Walter,” Katherine Farrell said.

The man turned angry eyes to his sister. “As I said, I read the newspapers, Kat. We live in Tampa, you don’t. You’re in New York, living the life and going to your Broadway plays without really seeing what the man has done. Nyla hasn’t been the same since she took up with Karl Halifax. She even broke up with Michael to be with him.”

“That’s not true, Walter, and you know it. Nyla and Michael had ended things a good year before she met Karl,” Katherine Farrell reminded her brother.

Walter Roker glared at his sister. It was obvious he didn’t like being called out. “Michael was working on getting her back when Halifax entered the picture. It’s as if that ex-convict has some type of mind control over Nyla. He’s brainwashed her, and she refuses to see what type of man he is. Her devotion to him doesn’t make sense.”

To Hollis, and it seemed to Katherine Farrell, too, it made perfect sense. Nyla Roker loved Karl. “I promised Nyla that if I had a chance to talk to either of you, I would let you know that she was okay.”

“You talked to Nyla?” Darlene Roker asked excitedly, taking a few steps forward.

“Yes, I saw her right after she escaped from that house.”

“How is she?” Walter Roker asked, his voice strained.

“She is fine. Nyla also wanted you to know that she felt she had no choice but to block your calls again, and that when all this is over, you will discover how wrong you were about Karl Halifax.”

“I don’t see that ever happening,” the older man rasped in a cracking voice. It was apparent that although he was clearly glad to know his daughter was okay, he refused to let go of a father’s protective anger.

“Please leave,” Walter Roker then said. “I just don’t understand my daughter’s blindness when it comes to that man.”

Hollis wanted to say it had nothing to do with blindness, but it was all about love. It was sad that Nyla’s parents couldn’t see it. Not wanting to cause the Rokers any more stress, she said, “I’ll see myself out.”

***

Hollis’ next stop was the abandoned warehouse. Afternoon traffic made it take her nearly an hour to get there. It had been years since she had been on this side of Tampa, which used to be a nice section of town, until several prominent warehouses closed, leaving many people living in the area unemployed. Most moved elsewhere to find work.

Now the huge building, its steel exterior showing signs of rust from neglect, was an eyesore and probably infested with no telling what. She was glad there was plenty of daylight left. Although thanks to Derek and Malik, she was skilled at handling a Glock or any other weapon within her reach, she wasn’t in the mood to hurt anyone today.

She glanced around, aware of her surroundings, her hands in her pockets, one of which contained Charlie. When she reached the front, she entered the code on the door that Locke had given her. She heard a click as it unlocked automatically. When she entered, she made sure to lock it back since she didn’t want any surprises.

Glancing around, she was disheartened by the state of things. Although the owner had paid a clean-up crew, they had only cleaned the crime scene. As far as she was concerned, they hadn’t done a good job. A stained spot remained on the floor where Barcos’ body had fallen, with reddish-brown discoloration fading into cracks in the cement. The silence in the building was eerie, and she appreciated the daylight shining through the shattered windows.

Not wanting to waste any time, she began looking around. According to the crime scene reports, several cameras were installed inside and outside the building; however, because the warehouse had been abandoned for so long, none were functional. She had worked with Nate and Cranston long enough to know there were some things the FBI had to check for themselves and not depend on local law enforcement to do.

This warehouse had been vacant for years, and there was no power. Most assumed that if the network was dead, the monitor would not produce a signal, and that meant the cameras were inoperative. That was not always the case. Tech-savvy criminals knew how to bypass just about anything.

She glanced around and began walking the perimeter of the building, glancing up toward the ceiling. After circling around, she noticed four cameras in this area. Thankfully, all within her reach. Using the flashlight on her phone, she studied each camera. They were so old that even the bolts and screws holding them in place showed signs of rust.

Pulling a headlamp that looked like nothing more than a headband from her pocket, she put it on and studied the camera to see how the wires were attached. Like the bolts and screws, all showed signs of wear and tear. She took a closer look at the wires and noticed that one wasn’t caked in grime like the others. Interesting.

Using her fingernail file that could convert to a screwdriver, she unassembled the top portion of the camera to take a closer look. It didn’t take long for her to find what she was looking for. A device, no bigger than an aspirin, was embedded in the side of the camera’s eye. Just as she thought, someone had set up a temporary cellular surveillance network that bypassed the old cameras and connected them to a newer system. That gave them the ability to see everything happening in real time. Her heart began to pound at the thought that somewhere there could be a video showing exactly what had happened that night between Karl Halifax and Donnie Barcos.

However, she didn’t want to jump the gun in her assessment of anything. First, she needed to take photos to determine just how many of the four cameras had this setup. She found only two. She would forward the photos to Nate and Cranston. They would help her determine where the video output went and, hopefully, to whom.

She had just about finished with the last of her photos when she heard a sound. She quickly slid her phone back into her pocket, snatched the headlight from her head to slide into her pocket as well, and pulled out Charlie when the sound of footsteps on the cement floor came closer. She held her gun in position, ready to fire if necessary, when two men rounded the corner.

It was Special Agent Jack Wells, and he had another man with him.