Page 2 of Broken Wheels

He’d worked with Tanner in the past, and always found the man affable enough. His jokes were bad, but said with enough mirth to make everyone laugh.

Except me. Maybe I don’t have a sense of humor.

Yeah, it was probably that. Considering his job, he had very little to laugh about, and it would be disrespectful to find humor at a dead man’s expense.

And there he is.

Tanner exited the building and glanced around. He was bundled up in a thick coat and maybe gloves. He had to give Tanner credit—he sure as hell wouldn’t want to be working in this building, even wearing several layers. Even at a distance, Tanner’s nerves showed: his short, jerky movements, the way he eyed his surroundings, stopping now and then to scan the vicinity. It had to have been fear that had kept him alive all these years. No matter what anyone said, a healthy dose of paranoia wasn’t a bad thing.

It had clearly worked for Tanner.

Go back inside, Tanner. Don’t make me hurt you.

Except hurt wasn’t what he had planned, and he knew it.

Tanner bolted for the car and reached inside.

Don’t. Don’t do it, man.

Tanner drew out several manila folders, held them to his chest, and then rushed back inside.

Aw fuck. You had to do it, didn’t you?

Such a shame. If only Tanner had followed the rules, what was about to happen would be totally unnecessary. But to break them in such an egregious way?

That couldn’t be allowed.

He crept toward the building as silently as possible, close enough to hear Tanner inside muttering to himself. There was a knot in his belly and a feeling of heaviness in his chest. Tanner had been the one who usually stopped and picked up coffee for everyone. Myself included.

Being a decent human being didn’t absolve him from his crimes, however.

He peered around the corner. Tanner was tapping away furiously on a MacBook. He made a mental note to make sure nothing happened to that. They’d want to know what more Tanner had discovered and whether or not he’d shared that information with anyone else.

Well, he certainly can’t share it with his former colleagues, can he?

But there was always the chance he’d missed someone. With this job, no stone could be left unturned. He did a quick mental assessment. He could take Tanner from where he stood, but he couldn’t risk the laptop being damaged. Patience was better. Eventually Tanner would move away, and that was when he’d take him.

He didn’t have long to wait. After ten, fifteen minutes at the most, Tanner muttered something and headed for the door. As soon as he was outside, he checked the surrounding area with the same obvious nerves, then made a beeline for his car.

Show time.

He stepped out of the shadows, stealth no longer necessary.

“Tanner.”

The short cry that burst from Tanner spoke of fear. He spun around, his eyes huge. “W-What are you doing here?”

Disappointment crushed him. If there was one thing he hated, it was when someone tried to bluff. “Please don’t play dumb. You know why.”

Tanner’s shoulders slumped. “Wait. No. You have to understand. I have to tell you what I found.”

His ribs grew tight. “You know as well as I do that it doesn’t matter. It never mattered.”

“Wait. You have to listen to me.” The note of desperation in Tanner’s voice only made his task more difficult.

He shook his head sadly. “I wish you’d just let it go. Why did you need to get involved?”

“Because of what they’re doing!” Tanner’s eyes were wild. “We were told the project was scrubbed, but I found letters. They mothballed it, sure, but someone started it up again. If they go ahead with it—I found messages that say they will—there will be consequences. People have the right to know.”