Mindhunters 4 - Deadly Intent by Kylie Brant Read Free Book Online Page B

didn’t sound like voice mail,” Travis muttered. He was looking under the couch cushions and checking the pockets along the side.
    Kell set the phone aside to be collected later and began pulling open the drawers on the desk, pulling out a few old receipts and some fast-food menus. Hubbard’s taste seemed to run to pizza and Malaysian. There were a couple bank account passbooks, one for checking and the other for savings. The guard had a balance of eighteen hundred and change in checking and nearly ten thousand in savings. He opened the next drawer and found a notepad, flipped through it. He looked up when Macy reentered the room. “Find anything?”
    “No. Except that the man is exceptionally neat. The carpet’s been freshly vacuumed. I’m heading upstairs.”
    The CBI agent veered in her direction so Kell trailed after them up the staircase. There were three bedrooms and a bath on the second floor. Two of the bedrooms were furnished but looked unused and as generic as the kitchen. The remaining bedroom had an unmade king-sized bed. Drawers were hanging out of the dresser. He strolled over to take a look. “So much for being a neat freak. Someone was in a hurry.” The remaining contents didn’t even leave the drawers half-full.
    “Here, too.” Macy opened the closet doors wider and he saw the empty hangers inside. She crouched down to dig in the corners of the space, and her coat pulled up, revealing a very fine ass rounding out her black pants. Which was a purely objective observation, and not the reason he headed in her direction.
    “A duffel bag is in here, but the marks on the carpet look like something heavier had sat next to it. A bigger suitcase maybe?” She rose and put her hands on her hips, eyeing the overhead shelf. It was filled with some cardboard boxes, but it was the mini filing cabinet in the opposite corner of the closet floor that caught his attention.
    Kell squatted before it and tugged on the top drawer. Locked, but these things wouldn’t challenge an eight-year-old. He amused himself by pulling out the tools he’d placed in his coat pocket and picking it with his left hand before looking up to check on Macy’s progress. She was on tiptoe, stretching as far as her five-foot-five or so height would allow, which had her sweater under her unfastened coat creeping up to show a band of creamy skin on her abdomen. Because he was male, he sat back on his heels and watched, mentally calculating how much farther she’d have to stretch to show anything even more interesting.
    Her gaze dropped, caught him staring. He grinned, unabashed. She settled back on her feet and glared at him, yanking at the hem of her sweater. “You ass.”
    It wasn’t the first time she’d leveled the words at him, he recalled. And he had to admit, he got a kick out of the way she said them, all clipped and prissy, with that faint British accent she always denied. “Need some help there, Duchess?”
    Ignoring him, she turned to the CBI agent, who was lifting the bed’s mattress for a look under it. “Dan. Can you reach this?”
    Dan? Kell searched his memory, tried to recall if he’d heard the agent’s first name before. When had she? Mentally shrugging, he pulled open the cabinet drawers as the agent came over like a well-trained lapdog and fetched the boxes off the top shelf for her.
    Both drawers of the file cabinet were stuffed full of the sort of things people put away for safekeeping and then promptly forgot about. Old bills and receipts, the warranty on the TV, which had run out several months earlier. The deed to the house, property tax stubs, and—his brows skimmed upward when he pulled out the next folder—a birth certificate.
    “So where’s our guy plan to go after this if he leaves his birth certificate behind?”
    Travi— Dan —was pawing through one of the boxes he’d retrieved. “Maybe somewhere he plans to use a new identity.”
    “You have some known talent in the vicinity that dabble in