by Misty Evans
Liv leaned across the console to kiss him as she lifted one of the cups from the carrier. “How did you know I needed a large one of these?”
The kiss had been too quick, too brief. After she’d taken a sip, he caught her by the back of the neck, dragging her face into the center between the seats again, where he laid a proper kiss on her, parting her lips and teasing her tongue with his. She tasted of coffee and comfort, desire and encouragement. When he finally let her come up for air, she looked at him with a deep craving in her eyes and a shy smile. He wanted to freeze that moment and carry it with him the rest of the day.
She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
The thought struck him as odd. He had a nice life. He enjoyed his job and had good people working under him. He loved his family, and missed them every day. “I brought you a brownie too, if you want one.”
“Coffee and chocolate? You really know how to woo a girl.”
“Next best thing to beer and cannolis.” He fished the folded paper bag of brownies out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. Taz stuck his head over the seat, licking Victor’s ear and making him jump, almost spilling his coffee. “Hey, boy,” Victor scratched his chin. “Miss me?”
The dog caught the scent of brownies and nearly came into the front seat. Olivia held them out of reach and used an elbow to keep him in the back. “Down, Taz. No chocolate for you.”
The dog obeyed reluctantly, keeping his big face between them. Olivia took another sip and tucked the brownies safely away from the dog’s nose. “Where to?”
Paranoia flared again, eating away at his insides. He scanned the buildings nearby, the cars parked up and down the street. “Drive randomly for a few minutes. I want to make sure we don’t have a tail.”
She put the car in gear and eased into traffic. “I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to do paperwork to get my boss out of my hair. How are Cooper and Thomas?”
“The doctors are keeping Cooper sedated. He’s still in serious condition. I have Thomas at a safe house, and I’m going to insist Ronni join him. Unfortunately, I’ve spent most of the morning dealing with local law enforcement, the bomb squad, the medical examiner, and a host of others, including dozens of requests from news organizations wanting a statement about my “dead” agent. I’m doing my best to keep Thomas’s actual status under wraps as long as possible, but there are too many people involved. Word will leak soon enough.” He rubbed his eyes and took a drink of the hot coffee. It was a bit weak. He probably should’ve gone for straight espresso, but he wasn’t choosy at the moment. “It’s been a long morning.”
She took a left. “San Diego PD have any leads on the bomber?”
“None. The office the taskforce uses for meetings is in a rundown building that houses a senior center, an ambulance chaser, and an accountant. The neighborhood has no traffic cams, no ATM cameras, or other sources of video. No witnesses have come forward. Thomas immediately contacted the dead agent’s superior, obviously, to let him know what happened, and I’ve gotten an earful from him, but nothing helpful. Agent Marin was undercover in the Suarez cartel, and he left a couple names with Thomas that might give us leads into Cooper’s shooting, but we’ve got nothing else substantial on who planted the bomb.”
“You think the shooter might be part of the Suarez cartel?”
“It’s the strongest lead we have at the moment and appears more likely than a mob hit. The suspects we had at the park all turned up as dead ends.”
Liv’s cheek sucked in as if she were chewing on it as she turned the idea over. “Street gang hits are often less precise, so that fits with the different methods and sloppy execution that left both Cooper and Thomas alive.”
“Since Marin’s death is not public knowledge yet, whoever set the bomb believes Thomas died. One of the reasons I’ve been running interference hot and heavy with the news media is to keep the idea alive. Eventually, whoever tried to kill Thomas will figure it out, but I’m buying as much time as possible in hopes we find the killer before he can do any further damage.”
They flowed with the light afternoon traffic, weaving around the city. Both checked rearview mirrors and kept an eye on cars that followed them for more than a few blocks. None raised flags. After Victor was certain they were not being followed, he directed Liv to Thomas and Ronni’s apartment building.
“Celina is still at the hospital, and I put Mitch on bodyguard duty with her so Ronni could be with Thomas. I need to pick up some clothes and things for the two of them. Everyone else is on high alert and laying low. If I had my way, I’d round them all up and put them in the safe house.”
“It’s natural to want to protect them,” she said. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised you haven’t done that already.”
“I floated it by all of them and got nothing but pushback. They want to work the case, not hide out, and I understand their motivation. Some, like Cooper, have spouses and kids to worry about.”
“They’re afraid to leave them vulnerable.”
“Exactly. We don’t know if this is over, or they’ll start targeting family members as well.”
“What a nightmare.”
His thought exactly. “I’ve been in touch with a former agent who worked on the taskforce several years ago, and who now runs a security service in DC. I can’t get the FBI or Justice Department to release funding for increased security on my agents yet, but if I have to, I’ll hire bodyguards for them myself.”
She pulled into the parking lot. “Director Allen doesn’t believe there will be more attempts on your agents?”
“I spoke to him for the third time today a few minutes ago, and he’s unwilling to come out and say someone is specifically targeting the SCVC Taskforce, even though I’m in charge of several here in California and none of those have been targeted. Some days he’s more politician than agent.”
“He can’t possibly believe these are simply random attacks.”
A parking spot was open at the end of the first row. “In my time as West Coast director, the only instances when we have butted heads has been when it came to budget restrictions. It’s not about what he believes, but what will happen if he declares the SCVC Taskforce needs funding in order to protect its agents. In the big picture, he thinks it shows weakness, that my agents can’t protect themselves, or are not trained well enough. In that case, they don’t belong on this elite group.”
“Ah, yes. Appearances in DC are everything.”
“I could have two dead agents right now, and he still wouldn’t approve funding for increased security for the rest.”
She parked and they took Taz and the brownies and went up to the apartment. Thomas had given Victor a key and the access code for the alarm system.
The place was small, but clean and neat. Victor suspected that was Ronni’s doing more so then her husband’s. While neither of the agents were home all that much, the place had a comfortable feel to it, very inviting. Victor hoped that one day his would too.
Olivia helped herself to a brownie, under Taz’s intense supervision, while Victor gathered clothes. He had no idea what to grab for Ronni from her collection of toiletries, and Olivia jumped in to help.
“Ronni has a lot of hair products and makeup,” she said, eyeing the full shelves. She picked out several bottles and lifted the bag. “Hope I grabbed the right stuff.”
Victor noticed how Taz followed Olivia everywhere. The dog was probably hoping for brownie crumbs, but he also seemed somewhat protective of her.
Maybe I can get her to adopt him.
“Was that a police dog vest I saw on the backseat?” he asked as she took the lead collecting clothes for Ronni, saving him the embarrassment of going through Ronni’s dresser drawers for undergarments.
She smiled, swallowing the last of her brownie and brushing her hands on her jeans. “Taz came to work with me today. He’s in training, if anyone asks.”
Yup, I think I could love her. She found a way to take every
situation and make the best of it. He’d tried to do the same throughout his life, taking care of his disabled mother while she raised him and his sisters with no father in the picture and a very limited income.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” He smiled at her as he sent off a text to Thomas, telling him they would be at the safe house shortly.
She returned it, then the smile faded. “Victor, there’s something I need to tell you.”
His stomach went tight at her tone. “What is it, Liv?”
The dog sat at her feet, sensing the unease in her voice. She patted his head, averting her eyes from Victor. “It’s just that… Well, you know how I feel about y—”
Victor’s phone blared with Celina’s ringtone. He snatched it from his pocket. “Sorry. It’s Celina.”
“Oh, um. Go ahead. You have to take it.”
He punched the button. “Celina, how is he?”
Her voice was teary, but with happiness. “He’s awake, Victor! The Beast rises. You have to come.”
Yes! Everyone on the taskforce referred to Cooper as the beast. “That is great news. Hang tight. I’m on my way.”
He disconnected and shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Cooper’s awake.”
Olivia smiled again, but it was strained. “That’s wonderful. I thought they had him sedated.”
“I’ve never known anything that can keep Cooper Harris down, and apparently not even heavy doses of intravenous drugs. I need to talk to him. He might have seen the shooter. It’s a long shot, but it’s possible he could ID the guy.”
She headed for the door. “I’ll drive.”
6
The marshal was on the move again.
The man watched the red dot pulse on the map, glad he’d stuck the small tracking device on her car when he’d seen her at the hospital. She was proving to be of more value than he’d expected.
Technology was a wonderful thing. A few years ago, he would’ve had to physically follow her, and she was a busy woman. He would’ve found himself running all over the place, trying to keep up with her. Today, he had time, so he’d followed her just for fun.
She was an unexpected bonus in this scenario. He hadn’t realized she was involved with the director, and his ego smarted a little. The director was a slight impediment on that front, but give the situation time. Olivia would come around.
Now he understood things differently and he was always one to use every opportunity.
Deputy US Marshal Olivia Fiorelli definitely presented a prime one. It was no hardship to seduce her into his web.
She could access important information he needed and assist in his mission with the director, without ever realizing she was doing so. She might also offer a bonus target his superiors would appreciate, but that’d mean putting his quest to win her heart aside.
No way he was doing that. Olivia was his and he would protect her at all costs. She was the woman he wanted next to him when he pushed his bosses out of the way and moved to take over the Southern California quadrant of the Fifty-seven Gang. The DeStefano Syndicate was going down in flames, and the sooner the better.
More power, more money, more security. He could eliminate his enemies in one fell stroke, all thanks to the woman driving the car he watched on the GPS map.
She was headed for the hospital, leading him to believe there were two possibilities. Cooper Harris was dead, or the man was awake and talking.
While he preferred the former, his gut told him it was the latter. Either way, it made no difference. Harris wasn’t the real target. Neither were the other taskforce members. In his line of work, a good distraction and sleight-of-hand were the best ways of getting what he wanted. It was unfortunate he’d missed the man’s heart by centimeters—another dead agent on his kill list would be a nice addition, especially one as prominent and seemingly invincible as Harris—but in the end, it was the director he wanted gone.
Soon. Very soon.
Everything was going to work out fine. With Olivia providing effective intel, it might be sooner than he’d originally planned. All he had to do was convince her he was the better man.
Which meant finding a way to make Director Dupé look like the bad guy in this scenario.
Hmm…
That would take some doing, but it wasn’t impossible. The man turned over options and ideas as he tracked Olivia’s progress. Watching the red dot make a turn off the main road, he wondered if she would return to Carlsbad yet tonight. She had a meeting later; would she put Dupé over her job?
His phone rang with a call from one of his superiors. He thought about letting it go to voicemail, yet believed in taking care of things immediately and not letting them pile up. He’d have to talk to the man sooner or later, might as well get it over with.
As he watched the red pulsing dot arrive at the hospital parking lot, he answered with a statement. “Nothing to worry about, boss. I have everything under control.”
The man on the other end seemed to disagree, launching into a series of arguments and accusations. The red dot stopped.
Interrupting his superior wasn’t the best idea, but he wasn’t in the mood for being berated by a man who sent others to do his dirty work while he enjoyed the power and profits his position allowed.
“I told you I have everything under control,” the man said. “Let me do my job.”
“Where are you?” his superior asked. “We should meet. Now.”
Not going to happen. “I’m in San Diego,” he said, staring at the red dot. “I should have more information after tonight. I’ll be in touch.”
He disconnected, knowing it was a bad idea, but the other man didn’t realize his days were numbered. Soon, he’d be nothing but another mark at the end of the riflescope.
Because taking out Victor Dupé was only the first step in the overall plan. Soon, DeStefano and Molina would join him six feet under, somewhere in the desert.
His superiors were shortsighted. They were so intent on controlling the micro aspects of California, they kept missing the bigger picture.
He sat back and took a swig of whiskey. He could appreciate the director’s position as head of the entire West Coast FBI, but he needed a source inside the Bureau to smooth the way for certain transactions. From all accounts, Director Dupé was not that person. He couldn’t be bribed or threatened into cooperating.
Which only left one option—someone needed to take his place.
Taking another sip, he sat back, eyeing the GPS as a new thought came to him. If Dupé had feelings for the marshal, that could work to his advantage, at least in the short term.
Liking this recent turn of events in more ways than one, he smiled to himself.
Yes, Olivia Fiorelli definitely offered many opportunities, and he was going to make sure she ended up on his side of the law very, very soon.
Cooper Harris was indeed awake, but extremely groggy according to Mitch Holden, who met Victor and Olivia as they stepped off the elevator. Mitch’s handshake was firm and quick. He frowned slightly at Taz’s presence, but said nothing, giving the dog a pat on the head before he directed all of them down the hall toward the ICU.
Olivia planned to stay in the waiting room with the dog, and at first, Victor didn’t seem to notice she wasn’t right behind him. She’d just settled into one of the worn waiting room chairs when he popped his head back in.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “Aren’t you coming?”
The ICU floor limited how many people could be in a patient’s room at one time, and with Celina and Mitch already here, Victor would max that number. Plus, law enforcement was a funny thing. She knew Cooper and Celina casually, but she wasn’t part of the team. It could make things awkward. “They won’t allow Taz into ICU.”
He seemed genuinely surprised. “I’m sure the rules forbid it, but since when has that stopped you?”
She smiled, but stayed put. “I’ll hang out here with your dog. I know when to push it, and when not to. Go talk to your agent a
nd tell him I said hi.”
After he left, she checked her emails as Taz lay at her feet. A minute later, Dr. Emma Collins came strolling into the waiting room.
“Hello, Olivia.” Emma was dressed in a peacock blue skirt and matching jacket. Her blond hair hung loose around her shoulders, and a pair of blue framed glasses sat on her nose. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”
“Lending moral support,” Olivia said. “How is he doing?”
She leaned down and patted the dog’s head. “Cooper? They don’t call him The Beast for nothing. He’s one tough guy, and I suspect he’ll be up and running in no time.”
“And Celina? How is she holding up?”
Emma glanced out the window. Olivia had the feeling she wasn’t seeing the view from this floor. The doctor had some interesting experiences in her background, all of which would leave a normal person with severe PTSD, so Cooper wasn’t the only tough one around here. “There are times when it’s harder on the people around the injured person, because of the emotional strain, than on the person themselves.”
In other words, Celina was still a hot mess and probably would be for quite a while. Seeing the man you love shot in the heart right in front of you and your child was about as traumatic as it could get. “Victor hoped she might talk to you about what happened, so I’m glad you’re here. How is Jett?”
Jett was Emma and Mitch’s son, about the same age as Cooper and Celina’s daughter. The two kids had been fun to watch back at Christmas, and Olivia was once again grateful that no one had gotten hurt that night at the hospital.
“He’s a handful,” Emma said, bringing her gaze back and smiling at Liv. “I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”
There was that look in her eyes that parents got when they talked about their kids. Olivia wondered if her dad had ever looked like that when he’d told someone about her. “I don’t suppose he takes after his dad in the ‘handful’ department?”
The smile grew. “I’m surrounded by a lot of testosterone at the ranch. You should come out sometime. Do you like to ride?”