by Layla Reyne
“The arms dealer that was killed in the sting,” Chris said, “was he affiliated with Brewster?”
“A competitor, from what I can tell.”
“Hawes said he had contracts on each of them.”
Wheeler pulled a bank ledger toward them. “Paid for by this entity.” He pointed at a highlighted entry. A generic holding company name Chris didn’t recognize. Didn’t mean it wasn’t connected to Brewster. Or Rose. “I didn’t get very far before hitting a privacy wall.”
“I can help with that,” Jax said.
“Keep digging,” Chris said. “This could be our way in. If it traces back to Rose, see where else her money goes, and comes from. She can’t have funded all of this with Madigan money or else Hawes would have noticed. We need an independent money trail.”
Chris strolled to the other end of the table, to the collection of crime scene photos and case files he knew all too well. And yet, had only just gotten a fuller picture of. “I can fill in more details about this night.”
By the time he was done, Jax was silent, and Wheeler had collapsed into a chair, his elbows propped on the table, his head held in his hands. “How are you… How can you… Aren’t you angry at—”
“I’m fucking furious,” Chris bit out, letting loose a little of the anger he’d kept locked down. “And that anger almost cost you your life and almost cost me my family and my future.” He shuffled papers and yanked out Izzy’s ATF headshot. “It almost cost us any chance of getting her justice.” He took a deep breath, reined the anger back in, and laid the picture down. “Because my anger was focused in the wrong direction. Hawes isn’t the problem. Rose is the culprit. Hawes was just trying to protect his family, his company, and his city. He thought he was acting in self-defense. And maybe he was. We still don’t know what happened during those few days before Izzy’s death. She went dark. Amelia and Zoe both implied there’s more to this.” He turned his attention to Jax. “Can you help with that too?”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you.” Chris stepped back from the table. “And make sure he also gets some sleep.”
“I’m a hacker, Agent Perri,” they said. “Not the best at that either.”
“Take shifts, then,” Chris said, turning for the door. “And check in regularly.”
Wheeler followed him out onto the porch. “You still don’t trust me.”
Nothing could be further from the truth. “Why do you think that?”
“Because you’re not telling me everything.” Despite the increasing paleness of his skin and the sweat dripping down his temples, Wheeler stood tall, demanding to be taken seriously.
Chris pointed back at the door, toward the table full of evidence the agent had already assembled, even operating at half-strength. “That case you’re building in there is the key to shutting this down, once and for all, and getting justice for Izzy. You are the best agent I’ve worked with when it comes to the details, which makes you the best person for this task. Hawes and I need your focus here. Trust us that we’re covering the other bases.”
Wheeler held his stare one beat, two beats, then deflated. He rested back on the patio rail, head hung. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to this.”
“Used to what?”
“Someone wanting me on their team.”
Chris clasped his bicep. “We do, Scotty. Don’t forget that.”
“Thanks.” He cleared his throat, then lifted his head again. His gaze bounced around, landing anywhere but on Chris. “Listen, um, has the agency made any official announcement…about me?”
“Still listed as MIA. No official statement.”
Wheeler tapped his thumbs against the rail, the rhythm rapid and irregular.
“Is there someone—”
“No,” Wheeler cut him off. “Perri—”
“I think you can call me Chris.”
“Chris, this job is all I have.” His wandering gaze drifted back toward the house. Toward his work. “I don’t want to lose it.”
“Just trust me a little longer.”
“We at least need to brief Tran, before she makes any further statements.”
Chris looked away then. “About that…”
“Fuck, did Rose get to her too?”
“Hawes thinks it’s possible. Add her to your dig list.”
Wheeler ran a shaky hand through his dirty-blond hair, mussing it up more than it already was, the unstyled strands longer than Chris had realized. Despite the circumstances, casual and disheveled was a good look on Scotty Wheeler. “How big is this, Chris?” Wheeler asked. “When’s it going to end? How’s it going to end?”
“With us getting justice for our colleague and making this city a safer place.” Chris had to believe that, on both counts, given the number of people depending on him. And if he and Hawes were to have any hope for that future—that home—Chris wanted. “That’s our job, isn’t it?”
“But is it going to get us killed?”
Chris sure as fuck hoped not, but he couldn’t answer no with any certainty.
Chapter Six
Blue eyes blazing, Helena squared off across the dining table from Hawes, every sharp line of her body taut. “You’re throwing it all away, just like that?”
Was she putting on an act, or was this for real? It sure as fuck looked real. Same with Holt, who sat at the head of the table, bottle-feeding Lily. His expression vacillated between blank despondency and anxious fear. Either way, he hadn’t liked what he’d heard; that much was real. But was it a surprise to him? Hawes’s SFPD sources had reported that Chris was at the station today, but neither Holt nor Helena had been summoned for questioning. Did they know this had been in the works? Had Chris gotten the message to them? Did it matter when Hawes was certain Rose was eavesdropping from the kitchen? He had to sell this either way.
“What am I throwing away? A two-week fling with a federal agent?”
Hawes fought not to flinch at his own lie. Fling was too small a word for the hurricane that had upended his world, but in the midst of the storm, he’d found something he thought out of reach for himself. Something his brother had shared with Amelia, for a time; that his parents and grandparents had been lucky to find. A steadying rod, a lover, a partner. Yes, it had only been two weeks, but Hawes knew. Chris was it for him, not just some fling.
“A mode of operation that’s held us back.”
Another lie. Hawes’s rules had kept them clear of the law. Had made both their operations—legal and illegal—cleaner and easier. Less risk of life and livelihood. But that’s not what Rose needed to hear.
“Let’s talk about what we’d be gaining back,” he argued against himself. For her benefit. “A ready-made weapons stash. Stability for the organization, inside and out. Our sister-in-law.”
“The mother of my child.” Holt glanced up from Lily and her bottle, his warm brown eyes both anxious and angry. “If we do this and we get caught, she could go away for even longer than what’s on the table now. How does this work out for her? For me and Lily? Why not let Oak handle it? They’ve got Reeves on tape as the responsible party. Oak will find a way to get her off or at least reduce the charges.”
It didn’t work out for Amelia or for her immediate family. That realization had settled into Hawes’s gut as he’d failed to fall asleep in Chris’s arms last night. Amelia was just another pawn for Rose to manipulate. The only way this worked out for Amelia was to cooperate with law enforcement, which he and Chris had agreed on in the wee hours of the morning, before Chris had left the condo. But again, with Rose listening, that was the last thing Hawes could say.
“We don’t have time for that. Rose needs Amelia—”
“What can Amelia offer that I can’t?” Holt countered. “I’m a better hacker. Whatever Rose needs, I can do it without risking Amelia.”
“You’d do that for her?” Rose entered from the kitchen, revealing herself. Tulip and Daisy trailed behind her as she rounded the table to Holt’s side. “A
fter she betrayed you?”
He aimed the same worry and ire at their grandmother, equal opportunity it seemed. And not to be cowed where his family was concerned. “She’s the mother of my child.”
“I need both of you.”
“I can—”
“She has a part to play. She knows that.” Rose squeezed Holt’s shoulder. “I will protect her, I promise.” Then let her hand drift lower, to run her fingers through Lily’s auburn fuzz. “This is all for Lily, and I won’t cause her mother, or you, any harm.”
Maybe she did actually believe that, but Hawes wasn’t willing to take the risk. He’d done what he could to pave an easier road for his brother’s family. But even then, he wasn’t taking a chance.
“And we’ll have her back in custody before anyone realizes she’s missing,” Hawes said.
“How’s that going to work?” Helena asked.
“By taking a page from your favorite movie.” He retrieved two tote bags from under the table and dumped their contents out on top—brown hair dye and matching wigs. As serious as the matter was, he couldn’t hold back a smile. This had been something he and Helena had talked about as kids. A heist they’d dreamed about pulling one day. He’d never thought it would be his sister-in-law they were stealing, but Hawes couldn’t deny the rush that came with knowing they were actually going to do this.
Seemed Helena was feeling the same way, one side of her mouth quirking up. “We’re going to Thomas Crown this shit?”
Hawes nodded. “She’s being brought to the courthouse tomorrow morning to be arraigned on additional charges connected to the incident at MCS. We’ll make the switch while she’s in the Federal Building.”
“We have soldiers who look close enough to make the disguises work,” Rose added.
“A couple captains too,” Helena said.
Hawes’s stomach sank, the momentary rush skidding to a halt. If Helena was willing to bring the captains in on this, had Chris failed to get the message to her?
Motion at Helena’s side, the one away from Rose, caught his attention. Five fingers spread, once, twice. Five by five, a saying from Helena’s favorite Buffy character, Faith. A secret code he and Helena had picked up, which their parents and grandparents had never caught onto. She’d gotten the message, loud and clear.
Hawes’s smile returned. “You going to play along?”
And Helena’s grin grew wider. “We’ve waited our whole lives for this. Fuck yeah, I’m in.”
The only one not smiling was Holt. Two steps closer and Hawes knelt beside his brother, hand on his knee. “She’s the mother of your child. We don’t do this without your okay.” Fuck Rose. On this, Hawes would not compromise.
“You promise to protect her?” he asked Hawes. Not Rose or Helena. That trust his twin still had in him was more of a rush than any heist they were planning to pull.
“I promise, Little H. This is all about protecting your family.”
Holt’s big mitt came down on top of his. “Our family.”
FCI Dublin was a short walk from the ATF’s Northern California division office. That was the only explanation Chris had for why Vivienne Tran was climbing into the back of the transport van where Chris waited for Amelia. He was at a complete loss, however, to explain away the signs that Tran hadn’t come from the office—black jeans, gray T-shirt, leather jacket; hair loose, out of its usual bun and cascading down her back and around her face in glossy black sheets; eyes as far from flat as Chris had ever seen them. They were liquid tar, the angry heat in them dangerous, a trap for anyone who tread too close.
He scooted the opposite direction on his bench seat. “SAC Tran—”
“Save it, Perri.”
The familiar bark quelled some of Chris’s dissonance, but not enough that he was willing to disclose more than he had to, especially in light of Hawes’s suspicion that Tran might be dirty. “Save what?” he hedged.
“The lie you’re going to tell me about simply escorting Amelia Madigan to the courthouse.” She slammed the doors shut behind her and claimed a spot on the bench across from him. “That’s the marshals’ job, not yours.”
“Given the nature of the case—”
“I said save it. We don’t have time.”
A swerve from what had sounded like the beginning of a dressing down. So what was this, then? Even more unsure of her motives, Chris held his cards close. “Time for what?”
She shifted forward, forearms resting on her crossed knees. “Time for me to explain how this jailbreak is really going to go down.”
Chris pushed back with his heels, sliding down the bench seat while drawing his gun, leveling it, two-handed, directly at his traitorous superior officer. “You’re working with her?” His voice came out a rough growl, from the blistering heat of betrayal and the blistering pain in his shoulder.
Tran didn’t flinch, at his voice or actions. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she killed my wife, and I will see her pay for that.”
“Who—”
Tran twisted a finger in the bullet chain around her neck, drawing up the weight that hung below the collar of her shirt. Two rings, both coiled serpents, one studded with amethysts, the other with rubies.
Chris gasped and lowered his gun, pain temporarily sidelined by surprise. He’d seen that amethyst ring more times than he could count. On Izzy’s finger. He’d never known it was a wedding band, much less that Vivienne Tran had one to match.
“Izzy was your wife?” How was that possible? Tran wasn’t listed in any of Izzy’s records. But given the way Tran longingly regarded the rings in her palm, Chris didn’t doubt the truth staring him in the face.
“We couldn’t do it officially, under the law, for too long, and then because of the agency. I was her superior, technically. We had a private commitment ceremony.” She closed her eyes, and her fist around the rings, holding them to her chest. “She was my wife here, and in all the ways that counted.”
While Chris’s head still spun, she delivered another blow. “She’d gone dark for three days and then resurfaced only for me to be in a fucking meeting. She broke cover to leave me a voice mail. Said the mission was going to shit. I tracked her phone, but I was too late, by five fucking minutes. I got to the scene, and Hawes Madigan was on his knees beside her, where I should have been.” She cast her gaze aside and swallowed hard. “Maybe if I’d gotten there in time, if I’d just answered the call, I could have saved her.”
Dots connected that never had before. “That’s why you covered it up. Because you wanted vengeance too.”
“Vengeance… and absolution.” She let the rings fall back below the collar of her shirt. “This has been the longest three years of my life, Perri. But we’re so close now.”
Chris reholstered his gun as he sought to connect more dots. “How did no one see you at the scene?”
“I didn’t get to be SAC without some skill.”
“Except Rose found out you were there,” Chris speculated. There had to be some sort of leverage that connected them.
“Only because I told her,” Tran said, shooting down his theory. “I went to her, told her who I was to Izzy, and told her I wanted vengeance, against Hawes.”
Not leverage, a common goal. Chris peeked beneath his collar to check the bandages around his shoulder. Something mundane to counteract this wobbly reality. Except he’d gone without the sling today—he needed the extra mobility for the tasks ahead—and now his shoulder ached from the quick draw, a stark reminder of the reality of the past two weeks. Of the full weight of what Tran was saying. “You let me walk into this.”
“Because that’s what Izzy would have wanted. She said you were the best, and you’ve proven it, even if you are a giant pain in my ass. And now we have Rose right where we want her.”
“Rose? Not the rest of the Madigans? You said you wanted to bring them all down. That Hawes was a target.”
“For her benefit,” Tran said. “She needed to think I w
as on her side. That the ATF was after Hawes and not her.”
“So Hawes—”
“I was there, Perri. I saw him that night. He was on his knees, in the rain, crying as he tried to stop Izzy from bleeding out. Helena had to drag him away from the scene. He regretted what he did, immediately. It was a terrible accident, engineered by his own grandmother.”
Fucking hell, she’d known the entire time, and she’d still sent him in to infiltrate the Madigans. She couldn’t have known he’d fall for Hawes, but she’d kept those details secret, from everyone. Part of him was angry at her for that omission. But another part of him understood that she couldn’t disclose those details without disclosing her relationship with Izzy. Understood that those details could have compromised his cover. Understood, all too well, the lengths a person would go to to avenge the ones they loved. In any event, none of that mattered because she was right. They were so close now.
“All right,” he said. “What’s the plan?”
She briefly confirmed the details of the bait-and-switch plan he’d also received an encrypted message about in the wee hours of the morning.
Then Chris filled her in on his conversation with Wheeler and their suspicions about Elliot Brewster.
Tran nodded. “Rose thinks Brewster is her best bet for shoring up power. But she also hates him, even more so after the last DV charge. She’s surrounded herself with powerful women, and he is a slap in the face to all that. Which is why we’re going to give her an alternative.”
“And now we’re back to ‘how this is really going to go down’…”