“I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”
“We can’t take the chance, and I’m not paying your cousin to do something I can manage.” She eyed his lower back. “Let’s hope none of your organs have been punctured.”
“Mama—”
“Hold still,” she demanded. “I suspect this is going to hurt.”
That was all the warning he got before she ripped the glass shard out of his back. He bit back another scream, not wanting to give his mother any more reason to insult his masculinity.
Wadding his T-shirt, she pressed it against his wound, putting her sturdy weight into the task. He couldn’t breathe. Black spots formed before his eyes. He buried his face into the crook of his arm, hiding the gathering tears. Heaven help him if she saw such weakness.
She grasped his wrist and dragged his hand to his wound. “Push hard.”
The position was so awkward that he had a hard time putting good pressure on the injury.
A shuffling noise caught his attention, and he angled around to find her at the stall’s entrance.
“Where are you going?”
“To get a needle and thread.”
“What if my kidney’s been punctured?”
“Well, since kidneys contain a lot of blood, I suspect you’ll be dead before I return.”
His heart sank as he watched her walk away. Warm liquid trickled down his side. He scrambled to put more pressure on the hole in his back. Did it matter? Could he be bleeding out internally, even now?
His gaze fell on the bloody shard of glass before shifting to the stall opening. A muscle below his eye twitched. His trembling fingers walked across the dirt floor and enclosed the shard in his palm.
He waited for his mother’s return.
33
“Got some information from my contact at the Coroner’s office,” Raelyn said the moment Deke slammed through the bunker’s door.
When he’d informed the team about Vasquez’s edict regarding Dylan’s case, every one of them had flipped headquarters the proverbial bird. He would never forget their loyalty.
“Better be good news,” he said. “I’ve had my fill of the bad.”
“Depends on your perspective.”
Weariness crept into his bones. He made a bring-it-on hand gesture.
“Desomorphine was found in the victim’s system.”
“Desomorphine?” Wes murmured. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s an opioid derivative. Cheap. Home-brewed. Highly addictive. Deadly.” Rae scrolled down her computer screen. “Began showing up in Russia around 2002. It hit the U.S. in 2013. Street name Krocodil.”
“Why Krocodil?” Wes asked.
“Because the user’s skin turns green, scaly, and bumpy.”
“Doesn’t make any sense,” Jax said. “Gracie Gilbert’s record was clean. No arrests. No prior drug or alcohol abuse. From all accounts, a good mother. Someone who was working hard to improve her lot—not washing it down the toilet. She was a semester away from graduating junior college.” She flicked the end of her pencil against the glass surface of her desk. “Why would she suddenly become an idiot?”
“I agree with Jax,” Keone said. “To go—”
“Exsqueeze me,” Jax interrupted. “Could you say that again for the recording?” She shoved her smartphone in his direction, like a seasoned reporter.
Keone’s eyes narrowed in warning before he continued. “To go from no drug use to Krocodil is extreme. Most people start with heroin and work their way down to Krocodil when they can no longer afford their drug of choice.”
“Maybe she was stressing about school or finances or single motherhood—or all the above,” Matteo said. “Gave in to temptation. She wouldn’t be the first.”
“If Matteo’s right,” Taji mused, “who introduced her to such a dangerous drug?”
“And why?” Deke added. He lifted his gaze to Rae. “Point of entry?”
“Between her toes. If you recall, my contact caught a glimpse of the victim’s foot when she arrived. He thought it was a contusion. Turns out, the discoloration was the onset of gangrene, a common side effect when users miss their veins.”
“Damn,” Wes said. “That’s some bad shit.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Rae said. “A heroin addict’s average life span is four to seven years. Krocodil addicts? One to two.”
“What else do we know?” he asked. “Taj, any sign of my brother?”
“Nothing, sorry. He’s off the grid.”
“Jax, did you gain access to the victim’s phone?”
She sent him an are-you-serious look. “In the past five days, Gracie texted her daughter, someone named Tina, her mom, and a guy named Henry. She met Tina for dinner and swapped shifts with Henry.” Jax held up the phone. “Would you like to see her social media pages?”
“Did your surfing unearth any new leads?”
“No, but I gotta try that new deli on Anderson Street now.”
“What d’you have on Tina and Henry?”
“Henry Scoffield’s a single white male, twenty-four years old, shares an apartment with two other guys, holds down three part-time jobs, and streams porn every Sunday night.”
Matteo snorted. “Sounds like a typical twenty-something guy.”
“Tina Armstrong’s a single white female, twenty-seven, no kids. Childhood friend of the victim. She waits tables at the same pub as the victim and Henry, though she’s transferred over five thousand dollars in the past two months to a bank account under the name of Belinda Armstrong.”
“Mother? Sister?” he asked.
“Latter. Appears the sister’s fighting leukemia.”
“Where’s a waitress getting that kind of money?” Keone asked.
“Sounds like an off-the-books job,” Wes said.
“She has an arrest record for possession of narcotics.”
They all shared a round-robin look, understanding dawning.
“Guess I need to pay Miss Armstrong a visit,” he said. “Jax, I need the name of her supplier. Send her address and the name to my phone.”
“On it, boss.”
“Wes, Matteo, dig into the victim’s personal life. Call me naive, but I doubt a childhood friend’s going to introduce a virgin user to Krocodil. We’re missing a link.”
“What about me, Commander?” Taji asked.
“Technology has failed to find Dylan. Time for boots on the ground.” He glanced between Taj and Keone. “You guys track him down.”
“Rae, you’re a runner on this one. Anything odd comes up—you handle it.”
Everyone scattered, including Deke. He made it halfway down the mountain before he realized he hadn’t requested a status report on the Distributor’s mole. His phone vibrated. Pausing, he checked Jax’s information, but found a text from Evie instead.
Where are you?
He shoved the phone back into his pocket. He couldn’t take on any more regrets. Watching Evie walkaway with her brother after their incredible bout of lovemaking nearly destroyed him. But he couldn’t have her involved in this—at any level.
A few minutes later, his phone vibrated again.
Ignoring me? Really, Deke?
He clenched his teeth and picked up his pace.
Another vibration.
I guess I’ll have to start my own investigation.
“The hell you will.” He pounded a couple buttons on his phone. It rang four times before she picked up. “Don’t you dare, Evie.”
“Hello to you, too.”
“This thing is growing before my eyes, and Dylan’s still missing. I don’t need another worry.”
“I want to help, Deke. Not cause you stress.”
“There’s nothing you can do here. Stay where I know you’ll be safe.”
“So I can spend my time pacing and worrying about you?”
His descent slowed to a halt. “Don’t worry about me. I have…resources that I can tap into.”
She said nothing fo
r the longest time. “I’d like to hear more about these resources.”
Something in her tone kept his normal redirection behind his teeth. “Soon. Now’s not a good time.”
“Will it ever be a good time?”
He didn’t know what to say. Since his split with Lisa, he’d never had the urge to share the work he did with SONR. But the desire to reveal that part of his life with Evie was strong. How could he open up to her and still protect the team? Was it even possible?
Dammit. No one could advise him on the issue either. Every member of SONR was single. And he sure as heck wasn’t sharing his love life with Director Vasquez. That path would lead to expulsion from the team.
He’d remained silent too long, for Evie said, “I’m coming, Deke. Tell me where I can find you.”
“Evie—”
“I’m coming.”
The resolve in her voice thundered across the miles. No amount of persuasion would deter her.
Sonofabitch. “Meet me at the Roundhouse pavilion, two o’clock.”
Evie rubbed her palms down her capris for the second time since exiting her vehicle and heading toward the pavilion. Seeing Deke for the first time since their lovemaking ripped at her nerves like a freshman experiencing her first out-of-control crush on the hottest sophomore in high school.
She shook her hands as if the action would break loose the tension. How upset would he be? Jalapeño hot? Or habanero?
Straightening her spine, she increased her speed. No sense dwelling on the storm ahead. She wouldn’t change a single word of their conversation. Deke would soon learn—if he wasn’t already aware—that she was no bystander. Not when those she loved were in trouble.
Love.
Yeah, she truly loved the big lug. It wasn’t a silly crush or a case of wanting what you can’t have. Deke had climbed beneath her skin, day by day, month by month, year by year, with every kindness he rendered, every joke he told, every touch he yielded.
Did he feel the same way? Sure, they’d made love, but that didn’t equate to romantic love. Love that would bind them together for decades, help them through the dark patches.
She saw him the second she stepped inside the pavilion, sitting on top of a picnic table, staring at her.
“Hello,” she said.
He said nothing. Habanero, then.
She strode forward, her orange Skechers silent against the concrete floor. Once she stood before him, she placed her hands on his knees. His features revealed neither anger or joy at seeing her.
Edging closer, she kissed his forehead before pressing hers to his. She tunneled her fingers through his hair, clasping the back of his head. “I’ve missed you.”
He closed his eyes and hauled her close. Their lips an inch apart. “Beautiful, stubborn mule.”
“Afraid so.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“We’ll keep each other safe.”
“You don’t understand what we’re up against.”
“Then explain it to me, Special Agent Conrad.”
His body hardened to granite. “What did you say?”
“You’re not a conservation writer, are you?”
“Of course I am.”
“But you’re something more.”
He nudged her away and stood, fingers digging into the back of his neck. After what seemed an eternity, he released a growl-sigh. “Dammit, Evie. I can’t talk about this.”
“I understand.”
Facing her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing.”
“Close, but not convincing enough.”
“I’m not up to anything.” She shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong. I would’ve rather you’d confided in me, but I get that work comes first.”
“How?”
“The scene at your brother’s apartment didn’t ring true. I pieced it together from there.”
“I’m doing my best to keep lies out of this. How about you do the same.”
“After leaving you at the coffee shop, I realized you’d done an excellent job throwing me off the scent. Deep down, I knew you wouldn’t get involved with me if there was someone else, but it took a while to cut through the distraction you threw my way. Then I recalled the weird vibe I picked up on between you and the hot Italian and the techno-geek on the phone.”
“Hot Italian?”
“Just an observation. I didn’t kiss him or anything.”
“So you jumped from a weird vibe to special agent?”
She hesitated, not wanting to involve Reid.
“Who did you discuss this with?”
“I didn’t know I was discussing this with anyone. Though I needed to talk through what I’d observed with someone.
“And that someone was?”
“Reid.”
“Reid,” he repeated in a flat voice.
“He was my best option, given the circumstances. As it turned out, I made the right choice.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“His tactical mind pieced everything together. He even suggested you were black ops.”
He made a silencing sound and surveyed the area.
“Don’t worry. He promised not to say anything. Not even to Brynne.”
“People always talk.” He let out a stream of F-bombs. “This could kill my career.”
“He promised—”
“All it takes is one slip to the wrong person. My team’s success is dependent on complete secrecy.”
“If you’d confided in me at the coffee shop, I would never have gone to my brother.”
“You don’t understand. I could never reveal this part of my life to you—or anyone. Too much is riding on the organization’s anonymity.”
“Does Lisa know?” Where did that come from? Of course, Lisa wouldn’t know.
When his silence stretched, her heart stuttered to a halt before slamming against her ribcage. “Oh my God, she does.”
“Some of it,” he admitted. “We were together when I became a special agent. She doesn’t know about the other.”
“Did your job cause the split? Or did something else?”
“A little of both.”
“That’s all you’re going to give me? ‘A little of both.’”
“I don’t see how hearing the details of my breakup with Lisa is going to solve anything.”
“It might not, but the information is important to me.”
He released a harsh breath. “I became a special agent while Lisa and I were still together. She was there during the application process and weeks of specialized training. It was one of the happiest moments of my life, the culmination of years of hard work.” He stretched the muscles in his neck, first one way then the other. “The job demanded—demands—that I be away from home a lot, which is tough on any relationship, but especially difficult on one that’s already rocky.”
“Rocky?”
“We were friends before crossing over to lovers. It proved to be a bad decision.”
Although she found his and Lisa’s story disturbing on a primal level, she didn’t regret pushing him. She took an odd comfort from the fact that they didn’t have the right chemistry to be intimate.
She pressed a hand against his back. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me for sharing something that had the power to hurt you.”
“I admit that it was difficult to hear, but my mind’s at peace on the subject now.”
He faced her. “Does nothing make you mad?”
Smiling she said, “Brothers, broken fingernails, animal cruelty.” Her humor faded. “Threats to those I love.”
He caressed the underside of her chin with his knuckle. “The Steele clan is lucky to have you.”
“I wasn’t talking about my family, you dope. Well, I was, but they’re not the only ones.”
“Did you just call the man you love a dope?”
Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Not funny. This was a serious moment, and you ru
ined it.” She cupped his face in her hands. “If you’re not ready, don’t say the words. I’ve waited half a lifetime. I can wait a while longer.”
“Sweetheart.” He brought their bodies closer together and whispered against her temple. “I adore everything about you. But this job destroys relationships. It’s not unlike what happens to families of police officers and soldiers.”
Her throat started to close. She wouldn’t beg, but she still wasn’t ready to give up. And it wasn’t like her father or Micki. If he left her for long periods of time, he would return. She knew he would return. “Some couples have made it work and have spent decades loving each other and building families. What if we’re one of the lucky ones?”
“What if we’re not? I don’t want to lose you.”
“Haven’t I proven my steadfastness? That what I feel for you is stronger than age, brothers, and long periods of separation? Don’t we at least deserve a chance?”
His tortured gaze seemed to hang on her every word, as if they were a direct line to hope. Hope that he hadn’t allowed himself to consider in a long, long time.
A burst of joy entered Evie’s heart. Had she finally broken through the elusive barrier that had separated them for years? Would he finally set aside all his concerns and give them a try?
When he remained frozen in place, she closed her eyes a moment to push back the despair that threatened to turn her into a blathering, wild woman. “Can we take this one day at a time? Enjoy each other’s company?”
He swallowed hard, and a new intensity shifted into his features. Heat radiated off his body, warming her, electrifying her. “I’m going to enjoy you a whole lot, Evie Steele. Are you prepared for that kind of company?”
“You don’t scare me, Deke Conrad.” She drew his bottom lip into her mouth and teased it with her tongue before releasing him. “And don’t think you’re going to keep me away from this case. That green-eyed creeper threatened you. I’m not going home until I find him. With or without you.”
His hand cupped the side of her face. “Now I know why your brothers keep such a close eye on you.”
“I ran circles around those egomaniacs.” She melted against him. “If you’re going to be a blockhead like them, I’ll be forced to run around you, too.”
He nuzzled the tender flesh behind her ear. “I’ve got a couple people I need to interview. You can tag along.”
Roaming Wild (Steele Ridge Book 6) Page 18