“You were right, I should never have taken him into your house. I should have called you from where we were.”
“Which was?”
“A short way up the trail he’d found a plateau overlooking the ocean.”
“I know it, and yeah, you should have called me from there. Why didn’t you?”
“Showing up like he did totally freaked me out. Then hearing he’d been posing as Dan Miller—Scott, it was just unbelievable. Uh, can we lie down for a minute? I feel a bit shaky.”
“Of course,” he replied, kicking off his shoes.
As they stretched out on the comfortable bed, and he heard her let out a heavy sigh, it occurred to him Danny’s sudden reappearance in her life had affected her more than he’d thought.
“I took him into the house because he needed to talk to you,” she continued as she settled into the crook of his shoulder. “The information was so sensitive, I thought the only place he should tell you was in the security room. I realize now I wasn’t thinking straight, but that’s no excuse. I’m embarrassed, and I feel like an idiot for taking him in there.”
“It’s okay, I understand,” he murmured softly, relishing the feel of her body as she snuggled against him. “When something shocking happens it’s easy to react without thinking it through. By the way, Danny came to your defense.”
“How did he know you were upset about it?”
“He’s sharp enough to know you shouldn’t have taken him into that room,” Scott replied, then taking a breath, he lowered his voice. “Elizabeth, when this is over I’d like to hear about the two of you—but you don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not,” he added hastily, suddenly feeling oddly awkward.
“But I do want to tell you, and it’s not complicated. When we were in junior high we were in love—as much as kids can be—and seeing him again… I still love him, but not the way I love you, Scott,” she said softly, shifting in his arms to stare up at him.
There were calls to be made, and Pete would soon be back, but unable to stop himself, Scott fervently dropped his lips on hers.
Swept up in an unexpected wave of passion, he hurriedly tore off her T-shirt and bra, then quickly stripped and tossed their clothes on the floor. She mumbled his name, but cutting her off with another crushing kiss, he moved on top of her, spread her legs with his, and placed his cock at her entrance.
It hit him.
No condom.
Assuming we both survive…
“Scott? Is something wrong?”
“Everything is right. You’re right, and being with you like this is right,” he murmured, then taking a breath, he thrust his naked cock into her warm, moist channel.
Flesh against flesh.
Hot energy pulsed through his loins.
With every stroke, she moaned his name.
Though overcome with an urgent need to quicken his pace, he forced himself to pause, knowing if he didn’t, his climax would seize him too soon.
“Please don’t stop,” she whimpered. “You feel so amazing.”
Her bleating plea instantly shattered his resolve.
Slowly withdrawing and flipping her over, he grasped her hips, pulled her into his pelvis, then gazing at her reddened cheeks, he slid back inside her luscious passage. He began pumping with vigor, forcing himself to slow down when he felt the threat of his climax, but her moans of pleasure and writhing body made holding back almost impossible.
“Stay still,” he growled, landing a hot smack.
She gasped, but abruptly stopped moving.
Closing his eyes, he slowly moved in and out, savoring the salacious sensations as he gradually increased his pace. Knowing his release couldn’t be denied much longer, he thrust a hand beneath against her pussy and rubbed her clit. He’d barely begun when she arched her back and let out a wild cry.
“Please… may… I…?”
But her hot channel was already pulsing against his swollen member.
“Yeah…”
He’d managed to groan out the word seconds before erupting with a dizzying, spine-tingling, mind-numbing explosion…
* * *
Watching Scott slowly open his eyes, Elizabeth assumed he’d been stirred awake by the sound of a car rolling up the driveway.
“Welcome back, Captain Scott.”
“How long have I been dozing?” he asked, rubbing his hand across his face.
“Not long. Did you pass out?”
“I’m not sure, maybe for a second,” he replied, then rolled on his side and stared at her, his expression inscrutable.
“No condom,” she muttered. “It’s nice to know I’m irresistible.”
“Elizabeth, I—I need to take a quick shower and eat something, and I also have to bring you up to date.”
“Go ahead. I’ll get myself together and see what I can find in the kitchen.”
“Call the local pizza place. Pete has the number,” he said quickly. “Just order what you want and he’ll pick it up.”
“Pizza,” she repeated, “what a good idea.”
“I have them sometimes,” he quipped as he climbed off the bed and headed to the bathroom.
“Pizza or ideas?” she called after him.
“Both!”
As he closed the door behind him, she couldn’t shake the feeling he’d been about to tell her something important and changed his mind. Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, she quickly dressed, then made her way down the stairs, running her fingers through her disheveled hair.
Pete was in the kitchen drinking coffee when she entered. He knew the pizzeria, placed their order, then helped her set the table before leaving to pick it up. Finding a six-pack of Corona beer in the refrigerator, she pulled out three to open when Scott walked in.
“You look better,” she declared. “Do you want a beer?”
“Better than what?”
“Than when I left you bleary-eyed and out of it.”
“Elizabeth, I’m never out of it, but I admit that shower perked me up, and yeah, I’d love a beer,” he declared, ambling across to her. “I take it Pete’s left to get the pizza.”
“He has. Can you tell me the latest?”
“Sure, let’s sit down.”
Settling at the table, Elizabeth listened attentively as he told her about his unexpected invitation to the party, and Danny’s tip on how to identify Conchello’s wild boys by their rings.
“That’s great news,” she exclaimed.
“It’s fantastic. My agents in the catering companies will now be serving them spiked cocktails. The drug will make them slow to respond, and more than two drinks should put them to sleep.”
“It’s a shame we can’t do that in the VIP area, and Danny was right about midnight. Sonny hits a gong and everyone has to leave.”
“I assume that’s when the hell in the Chamber of Conscience commences,” Scott said grimly. “I take it you were never in there.”
“No, thank God.”
“I should probably tell you its main purpose, but it’s ugly. If you don’t want to hear about it…”
“Chairs on wheels and a trap door?” she asked quietly. “It’s not just a rumor?”
“Sadly it’s not just a rumor. Did you hear Rosemary is the one who pulls the lever?”
“No! Oh, my God. It’s so hard to wrap my brain around all this. Sonny was never nasty to me, and Rosemary was always a sweetheart.”
“Now you know there’s nothing sweet about her,” Scott said gravely. “Conchello’s inner monster surfaces when he’s dealing with people he has to terrify into loyalty and silence, though I’m sure it comes out at other times as well.”
“Scott, I have to ask you something, but please don’t be offended.”
“Go ahead.”
“Why all this plotting and planning? Why can’t you just get a search warrant and barge through the doors? If it’s because celebrities will be there, who cares? Or you could—”
“You can stop there,” Scott
said, holding up his hand and cutting her off. “We would much prefer to do something run of the mill, but remember what happened with that raid you told me about?”
“How could I forget? Conchello left just before it went down, and his men ambushed the agents when they came in. All hell broke loose. It was bad, really bad.”
“Any arrests?”
“Only a few street dealers.”
“Any drugs or money found?”
“Oh, I see your point.”
“When an agency manages to nail someone in his organization, they don’t talk. Now I know why. Danny told me about a brothel in Santa Barbara called the monastery. Conchello threatens to send off wives and sisters to work there. Witness protection can only go so far.”
“I can’t believe it,” she mumbled, her eyes widening in horror.
“Elizabeth, that’s only one of his many terrifying threats, and he’s walking around a free man because he has far-reaching contacts who keep him one step ahead. Operation Justice has been in the works for almost a year, but there’s only a handful of agents involved. We’re holding this as close to the chest as we possibly can.”
“We didn’t get him in Los Angeles because of Jim Parker. How could I have been so wrong about that man?”
“You weren’t the only one, and that’s in the past. We need to focus on tonight. Everything is in place, and I’m confident we’ll be successful, but I’m worried about that fucking trap door. If we can’t get there in time…” Scott muttered, shaking his head.
“Maybe Ewen can get in there and disable it somehow.”
“Danny said the door is kept locked, and Conchello carries the key on a chain around his neck. I just don’t—”
“Scott! I know what to do!” she suddenly exclaimed.
“Your pizza boy is here!” Pete declared, marching into the kitchen holding two boxes. “Hi, Elizabeth, sorry to interrupt. You know what to do about what?”
“That horrible trap door,” she said excitedly. “It’s wild, and you’ll have to do without Danny in the surveillance van, but it could work.”
Chapter 32
The Conchello estate
When Scott heard Elizabeth’s suggestion he immediately called Frank. The chief lauded Elizabeth’s idea as first rate, and though he wasn’t sure they’d be able to pull it off in time, he gave the green light for Scott to try. Nail-biting hours passed.
In spite of a couple of hiccups, a few minutes before eleven p.m., wearing a receiver in his ear and a tiny transmitter attached to his shirt, Pete stopped a black truck outside the gates of Conchello’s estate. Elizabeth, Scott, and Brad watched from the surveillance van parked nearby. Though the party was in full swing, Scott wouldn’t go in until Pete’s mission had been completed.
On the island, Jack and his team were also waiting for the go-ahead. They couldn’t commandeer the encampment until the drug lord was neutralized. If he got word his base was under fire he’d likely disappear.
Peering through the windshield, Pete spied a row of limousines lined up along the driveway, and lowering his window, he heard loud, pounding music. Reaching out, he pushed the call button on the freestanding keypad.
“Name, please.”
The female voice sounded young and pretty.
“I’m from Concord Liquor. I have a wine delivery.”
“Go past the front of the house and around to the back. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”
“Thanks.”
The gates swung open.
Moving slowly past the long, sleek cars, his pulse ticked up. The rich and famous were inside, and what sounded like a huge crowd of excited partygoers. As he cautiously passed the portico and followed the driveway around to the rear of the majestic home, two burly men dressed in black raised their arms signaling him to stop.
“Here comes the welcoming committee,” he muttered as they approached.
“How many?” Scott asked.
“Two, and they look like they stepped straight out of central casting.”
“What have you got?” one of them yelled as Pete leaned his head out the window. “We weren’t expecting any deliveries.”
“Hang on, let me check my sheet,” Pete replied, picking up a clipboard from the passenger seat. “The address is correct, 3220 Songbird Lane, but there’s a card here. Maybe this will explain it.”
Lifting the crisp white envelope from the clip and pulling out the piece of paper, he read the note aloud.
Hey, Sonny, sorry I can’t make it. Here’s the wine I promised, along with a special gift. Make sure you’re alone when you open the crate. Speak to you soon, Leon Hartley.
“Here, you can see for yourself if you want,” Pete said, handing it down to the glowering guard.
“Huh,” the man grunted. “Who the fuck is Leon Hartley?”
“You’ve never heard of Leon Hartley?” Pete exclaimed, feigning surprise.
The name belonged to his high school math teacher, a tiny, bespectacled man who reminded Pete of a woodpecker.
“Can’t say I have.”
“To be honest, I wouldn’t know him either, but my daughter drives me crazy. He’s all she talks about. She’ll be tickled pink when I tell her about this.”
“Okay. Step from the truck and carry it in.”
“No can do, it’s a big crate strapped to a dolly. I need a large entryway,” Pete replied, already knowing the house had a small loading dock for oversized deliveries adjacent to the wine cellar.
“Follow me.”
As the man lumbered ahead, an automatic light illuminated a roll-up door behind a high, wide concrete block looking incongruous against the sleek, modern home.
“Just what every international drug lord needs,” Pete muttered. “Scott, can you still hear me from back here?”
“You’re clearer than my cell phone.”
“It’s quiet, real quiet. There shouldn’t be any trouble,” Pete murmured as he expertly backed up and came to a stop. “I’m going in. Wish me luck.”
Jumping from the truck, he walked quickly past the guards and swung open the back door, revealing a large wooden box strapped to a wheeled stand. With one of the guards standing close by, he lowered the truck’s platform to line up with the dock, then pushed the crate out into what appeared to be a storage room.
“It should go in the wine cellar, follow me,” the second guard said briskly.
Following him to a wide arched doorway at the back of the room, Pete stood to the side as the man punched a code into the security keypad. Memorizing the numbers, Pete rolled the crate into the cellar, unbuckled the wide straps, and deftly pulled back the dolly.
“You’ve done that before,” the thug remarked with a grin.
“A few times,” Pete replied, returning the smile as he walked out. “I have one more stop to make before I can call it quits. It’s been a long day.”
“Lucky you, I’ll be here all fucking night,” the guard grumbled.
“Sorry to hear that. Maybe you should look for another job.”
“The pay’s too good.”
“I guess everything in life’s a tradeoff,” Pete remarked, returning the dolly and closing the door.
“Ain’t that the truth.”
Climbing back into the cab, Pete raised his window and drove slowly up the drive, finally letting out a breath as he passed the front of the house.
“Okay, Scott, mission accomplished,” he declared as he headed through the gates, “and I have the security code for the cellar door. Ready?”
“Yep.”
“201918.”
“Clever,” Scott remarked. “The last two digits of the last three years, easy to remember but tough to guess.”
“Yeah, well, no one ever called Conchello stupid.”
* * *
His body curled inside the crate, Danny heard the cellar door close. Peering through the small round holes, drilled to accommodate the width of his eyes, he discovered the room was completely dark. Flipping back the bolt
s on the side of a panel, he pushed it down and crawled out. Dressed in brown and black camouflage, if anyone had seen him, they would have thought he was a gigantic tarantula. Retrieving a small but powerful LED flashlight from his breast pocket, he shone it up and down the walls, then across the floor.
“Scott?” he murmured softly.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Great, I was worried I might have lost you. It’s pitch black in here. I ran my flashlight around the walls and ceilings and didn’t see any cameras.”
“That validates what we’ve gathered on the network from here. You’re good to go.”
“I saw the door Pete would have come through, and the one leading into the house, so based on the plans, I estimate the entrance to the concrete room is about twenty feet in front of me, but there’s a wine rack against the wall.”
“It will probably slide out, or across,” Scott suggested, “but take it slowly when you try to move it.”
Straightening up, Danny stepped across to the rack and shone the beam across the floor.
“Hey, it’s on tracks,” he said softly. “I’m pushing it now. Yep, there’s a door here,” he announced as it came into view. “I’m trying the handle.”
It turned in his hand.
“Holy crap, it’s unlocked.”
“That’s surprising,” Scott said quickly. “Danny, be extremely careful.”
“No shit,” Danny muttered, moving the light around the door frame. “Ah, there’s a trip wire across the threshold, but that appears to be it.”
“Keep your guard up.”
“Will do,” Danny murmured, stepping over the wire as he walked into the dark, empty chamber. “Okay, I’m in.”
Closing the door behind him, he shone the beam around the barren room, then upward, and saw the huge hole in the ceiling.
“I can see the bottom of the shaft. It looks to be about six feet square.”
“So are we good?” Elizabeth interjected. “Will it work?”
Her Very Strict Captain Page 25