Page 18 of Sasha’s Secret

“A couple of things. What can you tell me about Frank Schofield?”

This was promising—he was asking about the ex-cop after only one conversation with him. Maybe it wasn’t her imagination after all, if Rocco’s instincts were in line with hers. “I’ll give you the details when we get back to the office, but, as you probably know, he’s a retired police officer from up north. Good at his job in his day, if his records are to be believed. Gerry hired him on Linzi’s behalf about a year before I started working for her, in circumstances not unlike the current situation. Why do you ask?”

Rocco set his coffee down on the low table between them. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a lack of cultural awareness on my part—for which I apologize—but… I can’t put my finger on it yet, but there’s something not right about him. You say this has happened before?”

Sasha wrapped her hands around her mug for extra warmth. “It’s why Frank was hired. The threats and packages stopped soon after he started.”

Rocco frowned. “What sort of packages? What was in them?”

Sasha shuddered. “Nothing good, according to what I was told. Dead animals, mostly—you get the idea.”

“If he was so successful last time, is there a reason why you haven’t told him this time?”

How could she explain the inexplicable? “If I said it was instinct, that I have no proof, that I can’t even point to any specific incidents that give me reason to suspect him, would you believe me?”

“Yes.”

“But why? You don’t even know me.”

Rocco chuckled. “I have instincts too, and they tell me I can trust yours. Anyway, we were talking about Frank. He doesn’t live on site, does he?”

“No, none of the security team do. Frank has a house about twenty, thirty miles away, I believe.” Unless he’d relocated since she’d first felt the need to look into him.

“And when he’s not on duty, who’s his deputy?”

“Brian Schofield—his son.” Sasha had never been happy about the nepotistic arrangement. “Why do you ask?”

“What do you know about him?”

Sasha thought about that one and came up short. “Not a lot. By that, I mean he doesn’t stand out for any particular reason. I think he started a few months after his father. Does his job, doesn’t ruffle any feathers—or hasn’t so far.”

“When we get back to the office, I’d like to take a look at his records.”

“You’ve got your login—help yourself. Just, please… don’t delete everybody by accident.”

Rocco chuckled. “I’ll try not to.” Then he sobered. “There is something else, though.”

“Go on.”

“I ran into one of the guards in the block while I was there—Scott Monroe. You know anything about him?”

“Again, for the details, I’ll need to check the personnel records. If I recall, he’s a recent recruit—Army vet, with an exemplary service record. Why’s he attracted your attention?”

Rocco raised an eyebrow. “He got the drop on me as I was leaving the security block. You might not think it’s important, but it shows he’s alert, with good situational awareness. Good to know he has military experience; it might come in useful. I have a proposition, but before I put it to him, I’d like your agreement. Out of professional courtesy I should also speak to Schofield, but I’d rather leave him out of this particular loop if I can.”

“If you think that’s best, I’m not going to argue. So what’s this proposition?”

“When Linzi attends the awards, I want someone else there who I know I can rely on implicitly. She’ll be out in the open, and it’ll be an ideal opportunity for someone who means her harm.”

“You really think that’s likely? On what basis?” The subtle shift in Rocco’s expression told her there was more to this than met the eye.

“I’ve seen some of the online threats, and while I’m no expert, I believe there’s an escalation. If whoever’s behind it intends to make those threats real, the awards will be their first opportunity to do it. That, and instinct. The first time I ignored instinct was also the last.”

She didn’t want to ask, but she couldn’t stop herself. “What happened?”

Rocco picked up his coffee and took a fortifying drink. “Good people died.”

Like a perfectly aimed punch, the short, bleak answer hit home with breathtaking accuracy. Sasha could identify with the deeply buried emotion behind it only too well. She’d seen good people die, too—including Jack. “Then if your proposition is designed to prevent that from happening again, you have my full support. What do you intend to do?”