“Did you get Internal Affairs on the record yet?”
“No. I think you’re going to have to do that.”
Ruben nodded. “Anything else?”
“Nothing except that I’m sure Salazar and Chisolm know we’re on to them. We’ve taken too long. We should have wrapped this up sooner.”
Ruben signed. “We’ve got an even bigger problem. You know the source you said was trying to reach me?”
Cooper nodded.
“Well, I talked to her last night – apparently the DEA is in on this with Metro Internal Affairs. It’s one of their regional taskforce cases. My source told me they’re getting ready to make arrests.”
“What?” Cooper slammed his fist on the desk. “What do you mean getting ready? When?”
“I don’t know. My source didn’t know. But we might not get the story nailed down in time.”
“Did you talk to the DEA?” Cooper’s face was hard and angry.
“Haven’t had a chance. I just heard this late last night. You’ll have to follow it up.”
Cooper stared at him. “Why can’t you? No, wait, I don’t think I want to know.”
Ruben stared at him for a moment, unsure what to say.
“Let me get this straight.” Cooper stood up and scooted past Ruben to stand at the opposite end of room, near the sump pump. He crossed his arms over his chest. “The DEA and Internal Affairs have had their eye on Chisolm and Salazar all this time and we missed it. So we’ve been plugging along, taking our sweet time, and now they’re going to quietly arrest them, and our story is worthless. We’ll be just another couple of schmucks at the news conference getting a press release.”
Cooper’s face had turned beet-red. “And we flush two months of reporting and data analysis down the toilet! And why? Because you pick the worst fucking time imaginable to shack up with some amnesia victim with a great ass. Does that about sum it up?”
The thing was, Ruben could find very little incorrect in Cooper’s summary. “We can still pull it off,” he offered.
“You’re right. But how fast?” Cooper stayed across the room.
“I’ll get Internal Affairs confirmed. You get the DEA and pull together the data. You’ve got to get a comment from Chief Chavez—he won’t even talk to me.”
Cooper nodded.
“Which one do you want to try to get a reaction from, Salazar or Chisolm?”
Cooper rolled his eyes. “I’ll take good ole’ Leroy.”
“Thanks a lot.” Ruben said. “But I suppose I deserve that.”
“Yes you do, and worse.”
“I’ll also get something on the record from the evidence room sergeant,” Ruben said.
“Great. I’ll get a comment from the prosecutor’s office.”
“Great.” Ruben rubbed his jaw carefully. “And then we put it in the newspaper.”
Cooper let his arms drop to his sides. “Will Howard go with that?”
Ruben stood up now and walked to his friend. “Why wouldn’t he? It’s all there, and if we get confirmation from the DEA and Internal Affairs, we’re covered. As long as our numbers are right.”
“They’re right.”
“Then we’re golden.”
Cooper smiled. “Today then.”
“I can’t do it today.”
Cooper’s mouth fell open and he gave Ruben a little shove on his chest. “You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not kidding. Cooper, how long have you known me?”
“Since freshman year, so what is that now, twelve years? Why do you ask?”
“And in those twelve years have I ever put anything before my job? Anything?”
Cooper sniffed and raised his chin. “No.”
“Then if something is keeping me away from a story as huge as this, it’s got to be important, right?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“Two days. I need two days. Then I’ll bust my ass to get this ready to bring it to Howard.”
Cooper narrowed his eyes at Ruben. “So it is the motorcycle chick.”
Ruben pursed his lips and then hung his head. “She’s gone.”
Cooper waited, but nothing more was coming. “And this is a catastrophe because…?”
“Because I love her.”
“Oh, man…”
“She’s in a whole lot of danger. I’ve got to try to help her, but I don’t know where she is.”
“So you’re going after her?
Ruben nodded.
“Now this is something truly different. It’s usually the other way around, right?” Cooper grinned at Ruben. “Where do you think she went?”
“North. She stole my truck and took off to the house she rented somewhere north of Santa Fe.”
“She stole your truck.” It was a statement, and Cooper was now close to laughing.
“Yeah.”
“Then report it stolen. That’s a no-brainer.”
“I can’t get the police involved.”
“Oh, really? Why’s that?”
“Catch you in two days.” Ruben was at the door. Before he could do anything more, he had some loose ends to tidy up.
This was one of Bradley Rowe’s favorite identities, simply because of the freedom of spirit it lent him. In jeans, Nikes, a baseball cap and a sweatshirt, he could pretend to be anybody and nobody, just a young guy not yet burdened by the results of his choices.
And Brad liked the idea that even though he was thirty-nine, he could pass for a twenty-seven year old graduate student. It was good for the ego.
The only thing he didn’t like much about this particular guise was that he had to travel coach, and at the moment, a little tow-headed girl in the next seat continued to stare at him without a trace of self-restraint. She’d hardly taken her eyes from him for the last fifteen minutes. It was unsettling.
Didn’t anyone teach their children manners these days?
“Jessica. Please, it’s rude to stare.” The mother shot Brad an embarrassed smile and he shook his head as if to say it was not a problem.
Thank God the little girl turned away. There was something so piercing about the way kids looked at you. Kids always gave him the willies.
His reason for this trip was to do damage control without having to get the committee involved. It shouldn’t be hard to find her. His first stop would be the dance academies and studios in the area, then, the indoor basketball courts. He knew that wherever Janey had gone, she’d be looking for a place to dance.
He smiled to himself. He remembered last year’s trip to Hong Kong, when he’d found her missing from their bed and went in search of her. Though it was barely six a.m., she was downstairs in the hotel ballroom, twirling and jumping in her usual trance, as half the hotel staff stood tittering in the doorways.
So if she were in Albuquerque, she’d find a place to dance. And that would be her undoing.
The little girl was staring at him again, and Brad shot her a sideways glance. She glowered at him, and the way the frown lines appeared between her sandy brows reminded him of Janey.
Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry this had to happen.
“Why are you going to New Mexico?” The little girl waited for his answer with her chin tilted up, her eyes focused on his.
He smiled. “To visit a friend.”
“Where?”
“In Albuquerque.”
“I live in Albuquerque.”
“That’s nice.” He smiled pleasantly at the mother, who had turned to monitor the exchange. Brad returned his gaze to the wisps of clouds below the airplane.
This was the first time there had been problems. Everything had gone quite smoothly in his work for eight years, up until just eleven days ago, right before his gallery’s anniversary party. He’d never forget how the terror squeezed tight in his chest at the sight – the papers pulled from files, drawers opened, the copy machine left on. He started to sweat as he realized that Lawrence had been poking around – and the man didn’t even have the sense to try and hide
it.
How long had Lawrence been betraying him? Where had he gone with the information? How much damage had been done to the committee?
He hoped to God that his swift removal of Lawrence would end any breach of their security. He didn’t want to burden the committee with this setback. He’d taken care of Lawrence by himself.
Like he’d take care of Janey.
Brad closed his eyes briefly and inhaled through his nose. He didn’t look forward to this gruesome business.
Janey looked so lovely the night of the gallery ball. She’d worn the light peach gown he brought her from San Francisco, a sleeveless, tight-fitting shell that topped a sweeping ballroom skirt of silk taffeta. Her color was high that night and her eyes flashed with confidence. He remembered noticing that she seemed settled for the first time in many months.
How did she come to see him with Lawrence? Where was she just before he followed Lawrence upstairs?
“Peanuts?”
Brad jerked his head toward the woman in the navy blue pantsuit who held out two foil packets. “Uh, no. Wait! Sure.” He reached for them.
“Would you like extra?” Brad grinned down at the little blond girl and watched her face light up at his unexpected generosity. He set the packets down upon her tray.
“That was nice of you.” The mother smiled at him.
“Sure.”
Brad turned back to the window. He tried not to think of how many people would have to die when the committee’s plans coalesced into action, people like this girl and her mother. The truth was, throughout all of human history, great change could occur only after blood was spilled. All justice required sacrifice.
Bradley Rowe understood that better than most. It gave meaning to his family’s death. They were martyrs and it was his duty to finish what they’d started. Besides, he understood bloodshed–the art and science of violence was his passion, his profession.
Three rows back, a man refused the offer of peanuts, then returned to his magazine. He checked his phone. Another hour before they landed. Why the hell was Bradley Rowe going to New Mexico? He’d notified the Albuquerque field office that he was following a suspect there. Maybe they’d have something for him once he got to town, but this trip puzzled him to no end.
In the three years Val Sheridan had been trailing Bradley Rowe and Liberty Path, he’d never seen any connection with any militia organization based in New Mexico. All of Liberty Path’s activities were centered in Northern Virginia, Maryland, Eastern Pennsylvania, and New Jersey. This trip didn’t seem to fit.
Sheridan wished like hell that Janey O’Connor would surface. She worried him. It had been eleven days since anyone had seen her, and she was the key to his investigation. If Janey O’Connor went missing, so would his case against Rowe.
Besides, Sheridan had two daughters of his own, and he’d feel awful if anything happened to her. He already felt awful. He hadn’t been especially fair to Janey O’Connor. He hated to have to threaten her the way he did, making up shit about her dead father. She was an innocent young woman and she didn’t deserve that. But, as always, you do what you have to do.
This case was too important to screw around with. With her help, he could prove to his superiors that Bradley Rowe was in deep, and that Liberty Path was more than a bothersome fringe group. They were planning something big—he could smell it.
Janey O’Connor was the key. As soon as he got back from this little excursion, he’d look for her in earnest, talk some sense into her. She wouldn’t be hard to find. Women that beautiful and talented don’t exactly blend in with the crowd.
“Peanuts?”
Four rows back, the two young men in business suits smiled politely and accepted the foil bags from the attendant. “Miss?” The man by the aisle touched her arm. “How much longer until we land?”
“About fifty-five minutes, sir.”
The men looked at each other and grinned.
Oliva stood at the door under a skylight, her wet hair combed off her pretty face, a terry cloth robe cinched tight at her waist.
“Hey, Olivia.” Ruben stood on the little tile porch outside the upscale condo. “We need to talk.”
She kept a hand on the edge of the door and stared at him. “Did you come to tell me what a nice time you had with me on our date—eleven days ago?”
“Ten.”
“Oh. Pardon me.” She tried to shut the door, but Ruben stepped inside the foyer.
“Olivia. I need five minutes.”
She squinted at him and relaxed her hold on the door. “There’s coffee in the kitchen. I’ll put some clothes on.”
“That’d be great, thanks.”
She frowned at him.
“The coffee. The coffee would be great.”
He watched her pad across the carpeted floor into her bedroom. Olivia was angry with him, and he didn’t blame her.
Ruben took a seat on Olivia’s white leather couch and checked out the chic vaulted ceiling and wide modern windows. For the first time, he realized that Zia—Janey—probably lived in a place as nice as this, or nicer. She probably hated every minute she spent at Pura Vida.
He held his head in his hand. He missed her so much. He ached for her—the sound of her laugh, the powder blue of her eyes, her wide smile. He’d find her. He had to.
Olivia was pouring herself a cup of coffee. “What can I do for you, Ruby?”
Ruben quickly reviewed the situation—he was dealing with an angry, possibly jealous, kick-ass reporter. It was probably safest just to just get to the point.
Olivia sat down next to him, and Ruby noticed she’d managed to dress for work and put on her makeup in just those few moments. Impressive.
She leaned against the back of the couch and turned toward him, grinning. “Are you here to ask me to go hike the petroglyphs with you?”
“What?”
Olivia laughed. “Nothing. What’s up, Ruben? You feeling better these days? Coming back to work? You look terrible, you know.”
He nodded at her. She was definitely pissed. He decided to just come out with it. “How did you know Janey O’Connor was here? When did you see her with me?”
Olivia’s eyes shot wide and she jumped from the couch like she’d been stung by a wasp. “What?”
“When did you see us together?”
Her mouth hung open. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ruben stood and went nose-to-nose with her. “I was in the newsroom last night when your friend Patty faxed a few extra things to you.”
Olivia’s face fell and her chin began to quiver. “You’re an asshole, Ruby.” She turned away but he reached for her arm.
“Olivia. This is important.” She spun around again but he kept his grip on her. “Janey is in serious danger, and I need to know exactly why you were snooping around and what you were looking for.”
“Looking for?” She jerked her arm from his hand. “Nothing. I don’t give a rat’s ass about her and I’m not snooping.” Tears welled in her big brown eyes. “I just saw her with you and… I couldn’t remember how I knew her… and…” The tears fell down her cheeks.
“When did you see her with me?”
“At your house. Tuesday morning.”
Ruben tried to remember what happened Tuesday morning at his house. Oh, God!
“Ever heard of knocking, Liv?”
“I did knock, you jerk! Your truck was there so I went around back to look for you. I thought you were sick! I brought you bagels!”
Ruben raised a single eyebrow and stared at her. “Bagels?”
“And after I saw you two in the kitchen I threw them out the car window and they rolled down Corrales Road, you pig!”
He shut his eyes and sighed. His jaw began to pound. Olivia had already started for her bedroom. “Hey, wait…”
She returned with a few sheets of paper clutched in her hand. “I interviewed her two years ago. I remembered her from this.”
Olivia shoved the papers in his
chest. Ruben grabbed them, scanned the “Cinderella Story” headline and gazed at the picture of Janey, laughing. Even in this poor printout she was special. “I didn’t find this story online.”
“My old paper’s web page sucks – their archives are useless. That’s why I had to ask her to fax everything.”
Ruben was reading the article and smiling. “This is good stuff, Liv.” He didn’t look at her. “I think you captured her well.”
Olivia grunted. “So how long have you been seeing her? How often does she come out here to be with you?” Olivia wiped the tears from her cheeks and her mascara smeared. “I never would have pictured you as the ballerina type.”
Ruben looked up, puzzled. “How long…?” Oh. Of course she had no idea Janey was the girl on the motorcycle. “Hey, Liv. Sit down a minute, okay?”
She nodded.
“I didn’t mean to blow you off. I apologize.”
She gave him a blank stare.
“I just met Janey, and I really had no idea things were going to progress… well, as fast as they did. I didn’t mean to string you along. Please believe me.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“So you were only poking around because you wanted to know who I was with? Is that the truth?”
She nodded again. “Yeah.”
“And you didn’t call anybody or ask around about her?”
She stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you didn’t call Philadelphia trying to find out why she was here, did you? I just need to make sure nobody was tipped off about where she was.”
Olivia blinked.
Ruben’s heart began to thud in his chest. “Who did you call, Olivia? Who? Did you tell anyone where she was?”
Olivia swallowed. “I called Bradley Rowe, her…”
“Shit!” Ruben was up and headed to the front door.
“Ruben! I didn’t tell him I saw her here! I just asked a few questions, that’s all.”
He whirled around, furious. “Who else did you call? Who else?” He nearly screamed.
“The Philadelphia Ballet. They’re pretty worried about
her.”
Ruben nodded and opened her front door. She followed him out to the driveway and gasped at the shattered glass, ragged metal, twisted fiberglass that was once the front end of a staff car.
Collision Course: A Romantic Thriller Page 17