Frosted (Moreno & Hart Mysteries)

by Allison Brennan

  “I assume it’s working fine, or he would have said something.” Krista checked her watch. “Now we just need Adam.”

  “And Chad,” Scarlet murmured.

  Krista shot her a warning look and turned in her stool to look out over the restaurant, where wedding guests were clustered around tables eating fancy canapés. Half of the room had been set up with a jazz quartet and dance floor, and a few festive couples were already out there.

  “Where is he?” Krista whispered to Scarlet.

  Scarlet assumed she meant Chad. “He offered to bus tables. He should be here by now.”

  The bartender appeared with their drinks, and Scarlet beamed a smile at him. “Vince, you did say your friend Chad was planning to work tonight, right?” She nudged Krista with her elbow. “Krista was just wondering.”

  Vince smiled. “He’s just taking a quick break.” He nodded at Krista. “I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

  Krista gave a coy smile and picked up her wine. “Thanks.”

  Vince disappeared, and Scarlet scanned the guests, looking for any familiar faces that might throw a wrench in their new scheme. Ever since R.J.’s unexpected appearance, Scarlet was paranoid. But she was pretty sure they had everything covered. Dave had agreed to take Trina into town for dinner to get her out of the way—and he hadn’t even made Scarlet explain why. Scarlet had been beyond pissed this afternoon when their plan had fallen apart when R.J. had gone all macho-alpha-jealous-male and driven three hours to see Krista, so maybe Dave had read her body language and decided not to mess with her. Smart man.

  “There’s Adam,” Krista whispered. “But I still don’t see Chad.”

  Scarlet turned on her stool to see Adam stepping into the bar, once again wearing his leather bomber jacket.

  “Hey.” He came up and gave them each a kiss on the cheek. “You guys started without me, huh?”

  “Sorry,” Krista said brightly. “Couldn’t wait.”

  Adam shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a coat rack near the bar, then signaled the bartender. “I’ll have a bourbon, straight up.”

  Krista shot him a look.

  “Or... make that a Heineken. In the bottle’s fine.”

  He took a seat next to Krista, and Scarlet watched with amusement as he draped a hand over her shoulders. He seemed much more at ease now than he had earlier when Plan A fell apart.

  “How’s it going, Kay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Looks like a fun wedding,” he said. “Anyone seen Tiffany?”

  “She was with some of the bridesmaids a minute ago,” Scarlet said. “Maybe she’s on the deck?”

  Adam’s beer arrived and he smiled at the bartender. “Put it on my room, will you? I’ll get the round.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Krista pulled out her phone and checked a text then gave Scarlet a slight nod.

  “Oh, hey, there she is, Adam.” Scarlet nodded toward the far side of the room. “Over by the buffet table. See her?”

  Adam sipped his beer. “I’m going to go say hi.”

  And with that, he left.

  Krista and Scarlet made chit-chat for another few minutes and finished their drinks before going back up to the suite. No sooner had they stepped off the elevator than Krista got a text.

  “He took the bait,” Krista said excitedly.

  “Perfect. Where’s Adam?”

  “He said he’s going to stay down for a while, give Blake plenty of time.”

  Scarlet unzipped the stylish black boots she’d been wearing in the bar and shoved her feet into snow boots. Krista ran into the bedroom.

  “Come on, let’s go.”

  “I’m coming.” Krista hurried out and tossed Scarlet her ski jacket.

  They rushed down the back stairwell and slipped out a side door. The sidewalk around the lodge was blanketed with a fresh layer of snow, and Scarlet glanced up at the sky with a scowl.

  “It’s still coming down.”

  “Nothing we can do about it,” Krista said, hurrying around the lodge to the parking garage and staff housing.

  R.J. was waiting for them at the back door. They slipped inside and immediately followed him into a dim stairwell. It was a secondary staircase, not the main one, but he corralled them into a corner where they wouldn’t be seen by someone coming down.

  “Is he here?” Krista whispered.

  “Got here two minutes ago.” R.J. took out Scarlet’s phone and pulled up her surveillance app. The black-and-white camera footage showed a bird’s eye view of Blake’s room. Or rather, the room that was supposed to be Chad’s. Blake tossed Adam’s jacket on the bed and walked to the closet. R.J. handed Scarlet the phone as they all leaned closer.

  “What’s he doing?” Scarlet asked, frowning at the image. “Is he taking a shower?” Blake was stripping off his shirt and tie. He tossed the clothes on the bed, then grabbed a T-shirt from a duffle bag and pulled it over his head.

  “He’s getting ready to go somewhere,” R.J. said.

  “But has he even checked the jacket yet?” Krista looked at him.

  “No. He must be really confident Adam doesn’t know about the diamonds.”

  They watched, riveted, as Blake pulled out his phone and checked a message. Then he put the phone down and spread the jacket open.

  “Here he goes.” Krista squeezed Scarlet’s arm.

  He touched the lining, going directly to the place where the stones had been hidden. Adam had had the surprising brainstorm to sew pebbles under the fleece lining to make it feel like the diamonds were still there.

  Scarlet watched, holding her breath. Everyone was counting on the fact that he’d transfer the jewels to another hiding place so he could leave with them. No one thought he was brazen enough to waltz out of the lodge with a stolen jacket someone might recognize.

  “What’s in his hand?” Krista looked at Scarlet.

  “Pocketknife.”

  R.J. reached under his jacket and pulled out a Glock.

  “Hey,” Krista said. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “I make it up as I go.” He headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

  “R.J.!” Krista hissed. She looked at Scarlet. “We said no guns.”

  “It’s just a prop,” Scarlet said. At least she figured he was using it as a prop, because it was a real Glock. She turned her attention back to the screen as Blake made a slice down the center of the jacket lining.

  He stepped back.

  For a moment he didn’t move.

  Then his hands went to his head and he looked to be tearing out his hair. He turned and punched the wall.

  “Ouch,” Scarlet said.

  “He looks pissed.”

  Blake reached for his phone and then whirled around as someone burst into the room. In a heartbeat, R.J. had him on face-down on the floor with his hands behind him. It was a lightning-fast maneuver he’d perfected doing hundreds of skip traces.

  “Nice takedown.” Scarlet smiled at Krista. “You have to admit, you love to watch him work.”

  #

  When Scarlet and Krista reached the room, Blake was cuffed to the towel rack in the bathroom, where he was kicking the wall and cursing a blue streak. He was also crying—big sloppy man-tears that streamed down his flushed cheeks. Scarlet didn’t feel sorry for him a bit.

  “I’m fucking dead, man! You can’t do this to me!”

  “You did this to yourself.” R.J. finished frisking him and tossed his wallet on the floor. “Check that,” he told Krista as she stepped into the room.

  Blake whirled. “You! I should have known it was you. You’re going to get me killed, you little bitch.”

  R.J. slammed him against the wall. “Hey. Watch your mouth.”

  “You don’t understand. These guys are brutal. I make the drop tonight or I’m dead!”

  The tears started up again, and R.J. stepped back, shooting Krista a look as he moved past them into the bedroom. “Stay away from him.”

/>   Scarlet stayed out of kicking range as she entered the room and pulled the door shut behind her. It wouldn’t shut properly because R.J. had kicked it in, but at least it provided a noise buffer.

  Krista was crouched on the floor, going through Blake’s wallet. Scarlet joined R.J. near the bed to check out the cell phone.

  “Looks like he called someone ten minutes ago. Must have been while he was walking over here.” He sidestepped Scarlet and went back to Blake.

  “What time’s the drop?” R.J. demanded.

  “Please. You have to listen to me. I need the diamonds back.” Snot was streaming out of his nose, but he was clearly struggling to pull himself together. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me have the stones.”

  “The drop. What time?”

  “Ten.”

  Scarlet checked her watch. “Damn, that’s in ninety minutes.”

  No doubt the feds would want a shot at these smugglers, whoever they were. Blake Johnson was clearly just a mule, and not a very good one at that. But getting a police presence anywhere in ninety minutes... no matter how important these guys were, it was a tall order.

  “That’s tough,” Krista said, and Scarlet knew she’d been following the same train of thought. “They’d have no time to scout the location. And that’s assuming they believe everything we say without question.”

  Scarlet stepped closer. “Where’s this happening?”

  Blake looked at the three people teamed up against him and started blubbering again.

  “You guys, I’m dead, don’t you understand? I’m dead unless you let me out of here.” He looked at Krista. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “You did this to you.”

  “You don’t understand! You’re going to get me killed, you fucking cunt—”

  R.J. punched him, and his head snapped back against the wall with a crack. He slumped to the floor, still dangling by his cuffed wrist.

  R.J. hauled him to his feet and pinned his forearm against his neck. “You’re getting on my nerves here, Blake. Now, answer the question. Where is the drop?”

  “I don’t know. I have to confirm I have the stones and they’ll give me the location.”

  R.J. held up his phone. “You’re going to call. And you’re going to make it good, too. No more crybaby shit.”

  Blake went still. He looked from R.J. to Scarlet. He didn’t even dare look at Krista. And he seemed to realize his only choice was to cooperate.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  “Smart move.” Scarlet nodded. “Make sure you do it right, or we walk out this door and never look back.”

  R.J. held up the phone. “What’s the number?”

  “The last one I called.” He wiped his snotty nose on his shoulder. “Phoenix area code.”

  Scarlet looked at Krista. Phoenix wasn’t good. They’d been hoping for a local connection so they’d have an in with the police. But it was what it was.

  R.J. tapped the number and held the phone under Blake’s nose as the call went through. Someone picked up but didn’t say anything.

  “Yo, you there?” Blake’s voice was strained but clear. “Hello?”

  A grunt.

  “I’ve got the keg. Where’s the party?”

  “Northeast corner of Sullivan Park in San Bernardino.”

  Scarlet looked at Krista.

  “Okay, see you there.”

  R.J. clicked off and pocketed the phone. He gave Blake a stony look. “How’s this go down? These guys know you?”

  “They’ve never met me. I’m just supposed to drop a beer can on the street and take off. End of story.”

  R.J. gave him a hard stare. He looked at Scarlet and Krista, and they followed him deep into the bedroom where they huddled beside the window.

  “We might be able to get someone in place,” Scarlet said in a low voice. “I’ll call my brother. But getting down there’s going to be a haul.”

  “The snow’s stopped,” Krista said. “I can make it in the Jeep if I leave now. You think John will help us?”

  “He’ll definitely help us. And he knows I’ve got something brewing right now, because I told him to be on standby. The question is whether we can get there in time. Someone’s going to have to at least attempt to make a drop if we want to lure anyone into taking it.”

  Krista checked her watch. “You work out the logistics with John, and then call me on the road.”

  “Hold on there, Speed Racer.” R.J. looked at her. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ll make the drop.”

  “No way.”

  “Way. They’re expecting a man, not a woman.”

  “He’s right,” Scarlet said.

  Krista glared at her, then at R.J. “This isn’t even your case, R.J. We didn’t need your help—we just asked you because you were here.”

  “You wanted my help, you got it.”

  “R.J.—”

  “Too late now, babe. I’m in.”

  #

  Krista checked her watch for the hundredth time and for the hundredth time glanced at her phone. She hated waiting.

  “You’re driving me insane. You know that, right?” Scarlet looked up from the game of Solitaire she was playing on Blake’s bed. Adam’s shredded jacket was still spread out on the end of it.

  “He should have called by now.”

  “He doesn’t have time,” Scarlet said logically. “He barely has time to get there as it is.”

  Krista glanced out the window. It was no longer snowing, but the roads were probably icy.

  “And John’s there?” Krista asked. “You’re sure.”

  “He’s there.”

  “What about the team?”

  “They’re there.”

  “What about paramedics, in case anyone gets hurt?”

  Scarlet shot her a look.

  “It happens.”

  “Everyone’s there. They’re set up. Calm down, Kay-Kay.”

  Krista rolled her eyes and paced to the other side of the little suite, where Blake was now seated on the side of the tub, his wrist still cuffed to the towel rack. For the past hour, he’d stared down at his feet without saying a word, and he had the bleak look of a man about to walk the plank.

  Krista didn’t feel sorry for him. He’d brought this on himself by getting mixed up with this smuggling ring. And Mac had come back with more on the background check. Blake Johnson had been busted six years ago trying to bring ivory through customs in San Francisco. So, this wasn’t his first rodeo.

  He glanced up, and Krista flinched at the sight of his shiner. It was already turning black.

  “Your ride should be here soon,” she said.

  John had contacted the feds, who of course wanted in on the action. A pair of FBI agents was on the way to Bear Lake.

  “Want some more ice for that or—”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Alrighty then.” Krista paced back into the bedroom and checked her watch.

  Scarlet huffed out a sigh. “Seriously, Krista.”

  “Seriously what? I’m worried. You would be, too, if it was Alex going.”

  Scarlet lifted an eyebrow, and Krista realized what she’d said.

  Shit. She didn’t want to have this conversation now. She wasn’t ready.

  She might never be ready to talk about her feelings for R.J., not in any kind of honest way. She wasn’t even honest with herself.

  Krista turned away, hoping Scarlet would take the hint and leave her alone. Her phone chimed from the dresser and she grabbed it.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  Krista turned to Scarlet and mouthed Adam.

  “Still waiting on that pickup?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, well, I’m in the lobby. Tiffany and her friends are here. The wedding party kind of spilled out, so people are lounging around and having drinks.”

  Krista sighed.

  “Anyway, I’m fine to come up there if—”

  “
Don’t come up here. I told you. Keep doing what you’re doing, and let the authorities handle this. Keep your phone on, though, because I’m sure they’re going to want to interview you when they get here.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m calling about. You think I should have a lawyer present? You know, since it was my jacket and all? I mean, I went through Customs with it—”

  “That’s a smart idea, Adam.”

  Scarlet glanced up with obvious surprise.

  “If you know someone, you might want to call them.”

  “Okay, will do. I’ll go hang out with Dave and Trina in the room. Call me when they show, all right?”

  “I told you, I will. And don’t tell Dave anything. The last thing we need is the press here.”

  “I know, Kay.”

  Krista hung up. She checked her watch again. Why hadn’t they heard anything?

  Scarlet lost her Solitaire game and began to shuffle the cards again. She said to Blake through the open bathroom door, “So, dumbass, tell us—why Adam Brock?”

  Blake shook his head and didn’t respond.

  “Right place, right time,” Krista said. “From their perspective.”

  “He was stalking Adam before he even left for South America—the photos we got from the party.”

  That had Blake speaking up. “Photos?”

  Scarlet began to lay out another game of cards. “At the restaurant. Two days before he left. We figure you knew, and you needed to check out his jacket. Probably took a gazillion photos of it so you could match it perfectly.”

  Krista nodded. “And then swapped it out before he returned.”

  “Smart plan,” Scarlet said, feigning admiration. “He walks through Customs, goes through a metal detector but no X-ray scan. Charter plane means minimal security. A risk, but you minimized it. And if he’s caught?” She shrugged. “It’s his jacket. He’s been wearing it the last two weeks. So he takes the fall for everything.”

  “Except, when he returned to the States, you couldn’t get your hands on the jacket,” Krista said. “The note didn’t scare him, he didn’t get sick off the champagne, and when your associate did get a chance to search his apartment, the jacket wasn’t there.”