Shot Through the Heart

by Diane Benefiel

  His expression hardened. “You didn’t need to know.”

  “Really? I didn’t need to know when I was acting as a double agent? You don’t think I needed to be armed with as much information as possible when Simon had me in his car, driving me around the city so he could explain just how easily he could murder me or my father?”

  “That’s exactly why you didn’t need to know. You acted surprised when Simon brought up Savannah, right? You’re safer if Simon thinks you aren’t so close that I’d tell you everything. He’s already after you because of your connection to Kyle; you’d be an even bigger prize if he thought you and I were involved to the point that I’d tell you about Savannah, something Nathan and I have kept quiet about. He’s got to know we haven’t been up front with the task force. That we’d be booted to the side because of conflict of interest if they found out.”

  Rane’s staccato words echoed her anger. “I think you should have told me about that. I’m the one playing both sides. The more information I had, the better prepared I’d be. You should have trusted me.”

  “This isn’t about trust, Rane. It’s about shutting down the DiNardos and sending every damned one of them to prison.”

  “And so getting close to me, sleeping with me, someone who has a connection with them, was a good way to achieve your ultimate goal, revenge for Savannah’s death.”

  “Justice is different from revenge. And I’m not using you. It may have started out with me going undercover to rent the apartment from you, but things evolved from there. You know they did. I didn’t plan on getting into a relationship.”

  “So that little opportunity was just too good to pass up.”

  He crossed the room to stand in front of her. His shoulders were taut with tension. “It wasn’t like that, Rane. You know it. You twisted me up. We’re together because we can’t not be together.”

  Rane pushed off the bed. She jerked the closet door open and grabbed her boots. “That makes a lot of sense.”

  “I didn’t say it makes sense. But you’ve got nothing to be mad about. I’ve been as honest as I could, given the circumstances. You might have tried the same.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just what I said. You didn’t tell me about your dad, about his connection to Kyle.”

  She stilled in the act of arranging clothes in the duffel, her gaze catching his. “What connection?”

  His expression remained grim. “Still trying to play it close, Rane? When you and Kyle met, you talked about a connection between his prosecution and your dad. Want to explain what that was about?”

  “Dad was a cop, so, sure, he may have been involved in Kyle’s arrest. Other cops were, too.”

  He was silent for a long moment. Voice quiet, she spoke. “You’re grabbing at straws.” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Kyle said something when we met that day at the hospital. Kind of. The two cops you had at the tables weren’t close enough to hear us.” She paused, frowning. “You wanted to put a wire on me, but I’d refused.” Realization dawned. “You wired me anyway, didn’t you? You somehow planted a wire on me.”

  He jammed his fingers through his hair once again, making it stand on end. “Okay. Yeah, I put a bug in the strap of your lunch box.”

  Rane stalked up to him, drilled a finger into his chest. “When I refused to wear a wire, you agreed I didn’t have to. But it was just another lie.”

  He grabbed her finger and held tight when she would have jerked away. They were nearly nose to nose. “I never agreed. I just stopped arguing about it.”

  “You distracted me with shower sex so I wouldn’t notice you hadn’t agreed.”

  “No. You distracted me with shower sex. God, Rane. You make me so crazy I can’t think half the time.”

  Tension arced between them, but Rane tried to insulate herself from the connection. She had let herself get lured into the idea that she could, just maybe, end up with him. She had to remember that their relationship had started with deception and, as far as her life was concerned, trust and honesty were rare commodities. She pulled back, and this time he her go. “This never would have gone anywhere. We’d better go.”

  “What the hell do you mean by that? We’re not done.”

  “Yeah, we are. I don’t do relationships, and you’ve just proven why. People lie. They can’t be trusted.”

  “That’s crap. Nothing is that black and white. Yeah, I didn’t tell you about Savannah because it wasn’t my story to tell, and I thought you would be safer not knowing. And Denton’s orders were that you be wired when you met with Kyle.”

  “Sounds convenient.”

  “It’s the truth. It may be a little gray, but my reasons were sound. And I’m betting your reasons for holding back about your dad aren’t exactly black and white either.”

  Shoulders slumped, Rane looked blindly around the room. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” She grabbed the duffel and strode out, leaving him standing in the middle of the floor.

  Chapter Twelve

  John checked his Glock and secured it in his holster, mind focused on the coming operation. Rane was protected. He’d gotten her to the safe house, and despite his opposition, Denton had assigned Ty to guard her. John didn’t 100 percent trust the guy. There was just something about him. Ty irritated John most of the time, but he didn’t have anything solid against the other officer, so he’d given in when Denton had held firm. Ty had pulled a hamstring earlier in the week, so he couldn’t be in on the raid, but he could stand guard over Rane in the safe house.

  John followed Ben and Nathan into the van and, with Denton driving, passed through the quiet streets in the early morning dark. They reached their destination, parked in an alley about a block from the warehouse, and quickly exited the vehicle.

  Like the others, John moved silently through the darkness to take up his position. The air felt heavy with moisture as fog rolled in off the ocean. He slipped on his earpiece and heard Nathan confirm to Denton that he was in place. He pressed the button on his mic. “I’m good here.”

  The team waited at the perimeter of the warehouse until, as their informant had claimed would happen, a rental truck pulled up and began backing into a loading bay. Following the plan, Nathan crept up behind the driver as he stepped out of the truck.

  “Hey, dude, you got a light?” The man whirled to find Nathan, dressed like a bum, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

  Using the diversion, John ran around the back of the truck.

  “Where’d you come from?” From his vantage point, John could see the driver look around nervously.

  Nathan shuffled closer. “I been sleepin’ in that building over there.” He waved to his left, and when the driver followed the movement, Nathan raised a fist and clipped him on the chin. The guy crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. John got the guy’s cell phone before pulling him around the building where two team members cuffed him and placed him in the van.

  John and Nathan flanked the loading bay door. John swiped through the driver’s cell, found recent texts, and punched in a message. Shipment’s here.

  A response came almost immediately. Wait there. Will open loading door.

  The rest of the team scrambled into place, and when the door slid up, they swarmed in. In a matter of minutes and without a shot being fired, it was over. DiNardo’s men were cuffed and isolated in a holding area for transport to the station.

  Denton motioned John over to the rear of the rental truck and pushed up the rolling door. The back was full of pallets stacked with crates. They got a crowbar, and John pried the top off one. Inside were bags marked Colombia’s Finest Roast Coffee Beans. Unfolding a tactical knife, he slit open a bag. Dark beans spilled onto the floor. The smell made him wish for a cup, strong and black, but coffee beans weren’t what he was looking for. He slit open another bag, and, stomach sinking, another. Just coffee beans. Fuck. Denton grabbed a bag and used his knife. Again, just coffee. The rest of the team joined them and they went throug
h all the bags. Coffee. No heroin. Just coffee.

  John stalked out of the truck, Nathan following. They strode out into the parking lot, now swarming with police cars. “Son of a bitch. What the hell happened, Nathan? I could have sworn Eddie was telling us straight.”

  “Yeah, Eddie was being straight.” His eyes narrowed. “They were onto us. They knew we were coming. That’s the only explanation.”

  “Shit. The whole operation’s shot to hell. This was supposed to give us what we needed to put them away.” John’s head was buzzing as he mentally sorted through the ramifications of the failed raid. “We’ve got to have Eddie picked up. If the DiNardos figure out he’s our source, they’ll go after him. Whatever went wrong, it wasn’t his fault.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Tell Denton.”

  John raised his brows at the distracted tone, but crossed the parking lot to talk to the team leader.

  “I’ll have Eddie picked up,” Denton agreed, deep voice calm.

  Both men looked up when Nathan approached. “It’s Ty.”

  “What?” Denton’s voice sharpened.

  “It’s got to be Ty. He’s the leak.” Barely controlled rage underlined his tone. “They were ready for us. They’ve been one move ahead of the team every step of the way. They knew we were going to hit the stash house the day I was shot, had goddamn assault rifles already sited on us when we got there. Remember Ty wasn’t along on that raid? Bailed for some reason. And Simon knew Johnny wasn’t with Rane when he broke into the house and kidnapped her. And they knew we were coming here.” His gaze narrowed at John. “We’ve got to get to Rane.”

  John felt an icy ball of fear lodge in his gut as the implications sank in. At Denton’s okay, the brothers commandeered a patrol car and, with Nathan behind the wheel, raced through the city toward the safe house, siren wailing, blue and red lights flashing. Tires squealed as they reached the white stucco building on the tree-lined street. John had his door open and was running up the walkway before Nathan had fully stopped the vehicle. The front door was locked, and he pounded, waited, and then pounded again. Nathan joined him, and at his brother’s nod, they both stepped back and kicked, sending the door crashing in.

  Ty lay slumped on the floor. He raised himself groggily to his knees, a goose egg prominent on his forehead.

  “Rane!” John ran through the kitchen and then down a back hall, flipping on lights as he went. He found the room she’d slept in. Her purse sat on the nightstand, the flannel pants he remembered her packing tossed on the bed. A quick search of the rest of the house confirmed the nightmare was real. She was gone.

  He returned to the front of the house. Nathan had Ty on his feet, back against the wall, an arm across his throat. “Where is she, you fucking shit?”

  “I don’t know!” Ty’s voice sounded panicked as he struggled to breathe. “They knocked me out, man! I just came to when you guys kicked in the door.” When Nathan drew back a fist, Ty’s eyes wheeled in his head. “Johnny! Call him off! He’s nuts.”

  John grabbed the front of Ty’s shirt as Denton charged into the room behind them. Nathan let go, and John yanked the man close until they were nose to nose. “Where’d they take her? Anything happens to her, there’s not a hole deep enough for you to crawl in that I won’t find you.”

  He shook off Denton’s restraining grip, but lost his hold when he found himself being hauled back by the back of his jacket, Denton’s face an inch from his. “Stand down, Johnny. If he’s the leak, we’ll deal with it. But we’ll do it right. You and Nathan back off.”

  Nathan grabbed his arm to keep him from going after Ty again as the man babbled excuses. John shook free and strode back to the bedroom. This time, he went in carefully, scanning for anything that would point to where Rane was being held. He dumped the contents of her purse and cursed silently when he saw her cell phone. No chance of tracking her using the phone. The suitcase she’d packed for the night didn’t yield any clues, nor did a search of the rest of the house. He returned to the living room where Ty was being escorted out, hands cuffed behind his back.

  The remaining members of the team turned their attention toward him. “The bastard’s got Rane, and she doesn’t have her cell on her.”

  ***

  Rane held herself stiffly against the movement of the vehicle. With a dark hood pulled over her head, she’d lost all sense of direction. She’d initially tried to make a mental map of where they were going based on the van’s motion but it had become impossible. She swallowed convulsively to force down the nausea brought by motion sickness and fear. Her stomach pitched as they rounded a turn, and then, blessedly, the vehicle stopped.

  They hadn’t been driving for that long, and she suspected they were still in the city. The safe house—well, the not so safe house had been near downtown, and she guessed they’d only driven twenty minutes. Focusing on details, on things that might help her survive, helped push back on the abject terror that had filled her when she’d seen Ty. She’d awakened early and grabbed a quick shower. A commotion had brought her from the bedroom, and when she reached the front of the house, she’d found his still form prone on the floor. She’d bent over him, and that’s when they’d gotten her.

  She’d been grabbed from behind, a hood pulled over her head. She’d fought, even breaking away at one point. She’d pulled off the hood and, in the scramble that followed, kicked, punched, and clawed until a fist in the face had snapped her head back and bloodied her lip. There were two goons, and she hadn’t stood a chance. The next she knew, the hood was back on, dark and stifling, and she was being shoved into what had to be the cargo space of a van, wrists bound behind her. She hadn’t recognized her attackers, but it seemed obvious that Kyle had been right. Simon DiNardo was moving ahead with his plan to kill her.

  She had to think past the fear. She braced herself when the back of the van opened and strong hands pulled her out. She stumbled and was yanked to her feet. The hood was jerked off her head, and she blinked. They were at the harbor. The light of early morning was muted by thick fog, giving everything a monochromatic look of black and gray. The dull knocking sounds of boats pulling against their moorings accompanied the muted cry of gulls. “Get moving.” The order was accompanied by a rough push. The two men gripped her arms and forced her to walk in front of them.

  They passed between big cavernous buildings that might have once been canneries. Sound was muted in the damp air. Seals barked in the distance, and an engine chugged on its way to the Sound. She tried to see as much as she could; there was no telling what detail might be useful to help her escape. And she would escape.

  They approached a dock, and she could see masts and rigging for fishing boats. Fishing boats meant fishermen, didn’t they? A deep breath helped steady her nerves and brought the slightly rotting odor she’d always associated with Seattle’s wharves. Where were the fishermen? She’d thought the place would be full of activity, but maybe even fishermen took Sunday off.

  Her captors changed direction, and the docks disappeared from view as they moved between two buildings.

  “We’ve got to get her inside before we’re seen.” This came from the guy she thought was in charge. The other guy had called him Mick.

  “Do you think the boss will kill her?” The second man’s voice sounded uncertain.

  “He’ll do whatever he does. You’re an asshole, Juan. Don’t start getting cold feet now.”

  “I don’t got cold feet. I just don’t want to be there when he kills her. I know he’s your cousin, but the boss gives me the creeps, man.”

  “Shut up, you idiot.”

  She’d been trying to keep her head and think about her surroundings, looking for the best avenue of escape. But at Juan’s comment, terror seeped deep into her bones, settling over her like a black leaden curtain that sapped her resolve and threatened to block out any hope. Not paying attention in the half-light, she stumbled again and found herself caught against the slightly pudgy body of Juan, who stank of sweat and
body odor. “Hey, I think she likes me.”

  Rane instantly tried to pull away, but his grip tightened on her elbow. Mick unlocked the door of a warehouse, smaller than the others, and Juan pushed her up a short flight of steps.

  The harbor sounds faded as they entered the building. They crossed a wide space where a moving van was parked, its rolling back door open, showing an empty cargo area. Its engine emitted the quiet ticking sounds of a vehicle recently driven. They entered a hallway and stopped at a door along the wall, open to a lighted office. A burly man with short-cropped dark hair sat at a desk littered with Coke cans. The air stank of stale cigarette smoke.

  Mick motioned Juan to stay with Rane in the hall while he entered the room. He spoke to the man at the desk. “You get the product moved?”

  “What do you think? Do I look like a moron?”

  “Just answer the question, Pete. Did you get the dope out of the van and onto the boat?” Mick sounded like he was barely holding onto his temper.

  “Boss told me to move it, so I moved it.” He rubbed his hands. “I just wish I could have seen the faces on those cops when they got the dummy van and figured out there was no heroin. Just coffee beans. Stupid assholes.”

  “Shut it, dumbass. We got to get the van out and this place ready to blow, so you’re coming with me.” He turned to Juan. “Lock her in the workroom, and then come to the back.” Mick walked down the hall with the other man.

  Juan pulled Rane toward a door farther along the same wall. The nebulous outline of a plan was forming in her head. Figuring Juan as the weak link, she began putting it in place. She deliberately tripped again, this time going almost to her knees. When he pulled her to her feet, she let out a tremulous sigh and affected a breathy voice. “Thank you.”

  He responded with a brief grunt, but she could see his gaze slide over her face, her breasts. He unlocked the door and stuck the keys in his pocket. Standing with his back to the door to hold it open, he waited for her to enter the pitch-black room.