When the Storm Ends

by Jillian Anselmi

  “Look, I know you told her you’d take care of her, but you were ambushed. No one could have saved her,” Travis says, as if he can read my thoughts.

  “I still wanna know how the fuck they knew she was here.” I pinch the bridge of my nose with my good hand.

  “They’re still trying to find out where the leak was.”

  “She had a TracFone and no one besides your cousin knew where she was.” I say, cringing from the pain.

  “Damn, she got under your skin real good. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love with her.”

  “Travis, I’ve never felt this way before. Yeah, at first I thought we’d just fuck, she’d go back to New York City, and that would be the end.”

  “Well, that is your MO,” Travis chuckles.

  “The more she told me no and cussed me out, the more I had to have her.”

  “Yup, that’s usually how it happens. Did I ever tell you how Trish and I met?”

  “You tryin’ to keep my mind off Lani?” I ask, lifting a brow.

  “Yeah, is it working?”

  “No, not really.” Sighing, I answer his original question. “No, I don’t think you did.”

  “I arrested her.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, sir. When I was up in Dallas there was a protest against the treatment of cattle. It was a peaceful protest, but they were blocking the entrance to the farm and not letting any of the help through. I put the cuffs on her, and right then, I knew she was the gal for me.”

  “How could you possibly know that?” I ask, my tone skeptical.

  “I fell in love with that fiery spirit she had, her tenacity. The fact that she stood her ground for her morals was a huge turn on. Lani’s strong and definitely spirited. I can see the similarities between them, and I can see why you’re falling for her.”

  “I’m pretty sure she hated me when we first met.”

  “I hated you when we first met,” he laughs. I start to chuckle, but cringe from the pain radiating from my shoulder.

  “C’mon, now! I’m a loveable guy!” I say, smiling.

  “Yeah, you are. You just take some time getting used to.”

  LANI’S FLORAL SCENT still lingers in the house. The thought of her with those sick, twisted assholes makes my skin crawl. “Brody, you okay?” Travis asks as I stare at her cowboy boots—the ones she bought to go line dancing with me.

  “I’ll be fine once we find Lani.”

  Walking into my bedroom, I throw on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. Having my arm taped up doesn’t allow me any mobility and the empty arm hole hangs limp. As I slip on my cowboy boots, a thought comes to me. Money. Lani’s money. “Travis!” I yell from the bed.

  “Yeah?”

  Boots on, I spring from the mattress and jog into the living room. “Money.”

  “You lost me,” he says, furrowing his brows. He’s sitting on the couch, looking at me like I’m crazy.

  “Lani’s inheritance payment is in a couple days,” I continue.

  “Yeah, and?”

  “She needs to physically be at the bank to sign for the deposit. It’s part of her parents’ will,” I claim, staring at her boots again.

  Travis thinks for a moment. “So, you think Armond took Lani back to NY to get her money?” he says, jumping up from the couch.

  “That’s exactly what I think,” I say as I pace around the living room. “We need to get on a plane.”

  “Brody, it’s not that easy,” Travis cautions, pulling his phone from his back pocket.

  “I don’t care if I have to walk to New York City. I’m goin’!” I growl at Travis.

  Sighing, Travis takes off his cowboy hat and runs his fingers through his hair. “I need to inform the FBI.”

  “Then do it,” I snap.

  “And I guess I can pull a few strings, get us on a flight.”

  “What are you waitin’ for? Let’s go!”

  FIVE HOURS LATER, we’re on a non-stop flight to Kennedy airport. Travis notified the FBI and they’re on high alert. Tomorrow is September first, the date Lani needs to sign for her inheritance. I didn’t have the banking information, so someone from the bureau looked it up and set up surveillance.

  Upon landing, we’re whisked away to an undisclosed location. When we reach the rendezvous point, I’m thrust into a room. They pump me for as much information as they can, but there isn’t much for me to say. I tell them everything Lani told me, but it doesn’t give them much to go on. I’m pissed that I couldn’t have been more help. Why didn’t I ask more questions? Why didn’t I think about the money angle?

  After being debriefed, I’m escorted into another room where an agent is waiting to greet me. “Brody Russell, I’m special agent Dallas.”

  “How ya doin’?” I murmur, still pissed.

  “Let me let you in on what’s going on. Why don’t you take a seat,” he advises, pointing to a chair.

  “Do you know where Lani is yet?” I snap. If I could have prevented this . . .

  “No. But you were right. We contacted her accountant today. She’s scheduled to come in to the bank tomorrow to sign for her inheritance.”

  “Good. You’re gonna snatch her up before she gets in the bank then,” I say, relieved.

  “No, not exactly. We’ll have surveillance on the bank as well as the streets leading in to it. Problem is, we’re not picking her up until we know where Armond is.”

  “You’re gonna use her as fuckin’ bait?” I roar. “No fuckin’ way!”

  “Look. He’s the leader in a large ring of heroin distribution on the east coast. Big fish.” Pausing, he has the decency to look contrite. “Delani is . . . well, a little fish.”

  “The fuck she is,” I shout, my temper getting the better of me.

  “Brody, this isn’t up for discussion and it’s not my decision to make. Once she leaves the bank, we’re gonna tail the car in hopes it leads us to Armond.”

  Getting up, I pace the room, running my good hand through my hair. “Y’all can’t leave her with those animals any longer. They’re pure evil.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Dallas whispers. Looking over at him, I notice his cool composure’s gone. His brows snap together as he turns crimson. “I’ve got a daughter a few years younger than her. I want to rip Armond’s balls off and feed them to him for what he’s done,” he growls. His face morphing back into the collected federal agent, he adds, “But I can’t. We need to play this out. He can’t stay underground for long.”

  “I don’t know if I can watch her walk into the bank without rushin’ in to get her.”

  “That’s why you’re staying here,” he says, his eyes narrowing.

  “No fuckin’ way am I stayin’!” I argue. I can’t stay here. I need to be there, near Lani. Just in case . . .

  “I can’t have your personal feelings getting in the way of what we need to do.”

  “All right, all right,” I grunt, throwing my good hand up in the air. “I’ll stay in the surveillance van. This way, I can be close enough in case somethin’ goes wrong, but far enough not to cause trouble.”

  Dallas mulls that over for a moment. “Okay. I can live with that. But promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

  “Yeah, I promise.”

  Brody

  TRAVIS AND I meet Dallas at the command center at nine o’clock. He introduces me to Davis, who’ll be watching the monitors in the back of the van, and Michaels, who’s driving. “He’s to sit there and say nothing. Don’t let him out of your sight,” Dallas threatens Davis.

  “Yes, sir,” he mutters, disappearing into the van.

  “Brody, are you sure this is a good idea?” Travis asks. “You’re not known to sit idle and wait.” He’s right. I’m impulsive as all hell and it’s going to be a long day of sitting on my hands.

  “This is where I need to be.”

  “Don’t go doing anything stupid now.”

  “I’ll try not to, but you know me,” I tease.<
br />
  “All right, let’s go,” Davis yells from inside the van.

  “Good luck. I’ll be back here if you need me.” Nodding my head, I step into the white cargo van equipped with every possible electronic device and then some. This is some high tech equipment. What I wouldn’t do to have a couple of these machines back in Texas.

  “Sit there, and don’t touch anything,” Davis directs me.

  “Sure,” I say with an exaggerated nod. My cowboy boots not giving me much traction, I slide to the back of the van. Davis glares at me as I sit on one of the leather bucket seats. “Sorry,” I mumble.

  The van starts to move as I get comfortable. Davis starts turning on monitors and flipping switches. “It’s twenty minutes to the bank from here,” he reports to a computer screen.

  “What time is she supposed to be at the bank?”

  “Noon. Gives us plenty of time to set up surveillance without anyone seeing us.”

  “That’s good.” This is too long of a ride to be silent, so I try to strike up conversation with the computer geek. “How long you been with the bureau?”

  “Eight years,” he replies, not taking his eyes off whatever it is he’s doing.

  “Eight years, wow. You look pretty young to be workin’ here that long. How old are you, anyway?”

  “Twenty-six,” he says without flinching.

  “How old?” I gasp.

  “I’m a computer prodigy. I graduated high school at fourteen and college at sixteen. They recruited me while I was still at MIT.”

  “I’m sorry. Where?”

  Sighing, he says, “Massachusetts Institute of Technology. It’s only the best school for computer science.”

  “Oh, yeah. I knew that.”

  The van takes a hard left turn and my chair rolls across the wood floor. Gripping onto one of the metal counters, I stop myself before I’m flung into the brainiac’s computer screens. “We’re here,” Michaels says over a PA system.

  “Okay. Now, we wait,” Davis says as he sets up his equipment.

  The computer monitors come to life and I now have an unobstructed view of the entrance to the bank. “Do we have eyes inside?”

  “Yeah, there are two agents acting as loan officers and one as a security guard. We’re going to leapfrog.”

  “What’s leapfrog?” I ask.

  “That’s when we follow a target up to a certain point, then pass him off to another group up ahead, and then leapfrog to pick up the surveillance farther down. This way, if anyone’s watching, they don’t know we’re there.” That makes me feel a little better. I’d rather be in the bank, but I don’t want to jeopardize Lani’s safety.

  Waiting is the hardest part. By the time two hours pass, I’m about ready to crawl out of my skin. Looking over Davis’s shoulder, I watch the screens. “There’s a black Dodge Ram pulling up to the entrance to the bank,” Michaels says as he enters the back of the van.

  “I got it. Running the plates now,” Davis says as he types.

  “Good. Everybody have their ear pieces in?” We both nod. “Is that her?” Michaels asks as a frail girl exits the truck.

  My heart accelerates as her delicate body walks up the shallow steps toward the entrance. “Yes, that’s her.”

  “Target is a dark-haired girl wearing a white t-shirt. All eyes on her. She’s entering the bank now.”

  “Got her,” one of the agents from inside the bank says. “She’s going up to one of the tellers.”

  The Dodge pulls away as quickly as it came. “Where’s the truck going? You got an ID on that UNSUB yet?” Dallas’s voice vibrates in my ear.

  “Negative, still running the plates,” Davis mutters, his eyes glued to the screens.

  “Shit. Someone tail the Dodge, find out where it’s going,” Dallas commands.

  “On it,” another agent squawks through our earbuds.

  “Target is talking with a bank manager and they’re going into the back,” an agent whispers.

  “Good. She’ll be signing for the deposit,” Dallas mumbles. “Where’s the UNSUB?”

  “Just got on the freeway, heading north,” the tailing agent divulges.

  “Where the fuck is it going?” Dallas questions.

  “Still waiting on target to exit the back area,” an agent reveals.

  “I don’t like this,” I mutter under my breath. “Something feels off.”

  “Everything’s going according to plan. It’s fine,” Davis says, changing the angle of his cameras.

  “Why would the truck leave?” I ask, my legs twitching.

  “Precautionary measures, possibly,” Michaels answers.

  Ten minutes go by and I know something’s wrong. “Where’s Lani?” I ask, concerned. “I haven’t seen her exit yet.”

  “Anyone have eyes on the target?” Michaels asks.

  “Negative, she hasn’t come out of the back yet.”

  “Davis, where the hell is that plate information?” Dallas’s voice booms through my ear piece.

  “Just came back. It’s coming up as stolen, sir. The plate doesn’t match the vehicle.”

  “This is taking too long. Something’s wrong,” I blurt.

  “We’ll give it a few more minutes. I’m sure she’s fine,” Michaels insists. My stomach is tied in knots and a wave of nausea overcomes me.

  “Tactical team, move in,” Dallas announces, and a swatch of black uniforms overtake the entrance. All I can do is sit and listen.

  A few long minutes of chatter back and forth between the agents later, an update is given. “Target isn’t here. I repeat, target is gone.” Gone?

  “What the fuck do you mean gone?” I ask Michaels.

  Dallas walks into the surveillance van. “Anyone have eyes on the bank manager?” he asks into his walkie.

  “We’re interviewing him now,” an agent confirms through my ear piece.

  “We’ll find out in a minute,” Michaels says as he and Dallas exit the van. I follow them.

  “I want facial recognition ran on every person, male or female, who exited the bank in the last half hour,” Dallas commands over the walkie.

  “Can someone tell me what the fuck just happened?” I shout, needing answers as we walk into the bank.

  “We checked all the exits, sir. She’s not here,” an agent tells Dallas.

  “What did the bank manager say?” he asks.

  “They’re still interviewing him.”

  “How could she have just vanished?” I ask, my temper starting to flare.

  “I don’t know, but I’m gonna find out,” Dallas promises me. “Sit tight,” he mumbles as he walks toward the tellers.

  Walking out of the bank, I sit on the shallow steps—the same shallow steps Lani walked up not twenty minutes ago. I rub my forehead, praying something will percolate up there, giving me the right answers.

  A few minutes later, I get a tap on the shoulder. “They were good, but we were better,” Dallas says, sitting down next to me. “I just got word the Dodge was left abandoned, but we had eyes on the pickup vehicle. The UNSUB got into a white cargo van. We followed it up to a house in the mountains, about an hour from here.”

  “That’s where Lani is?” I ask.

  “We believe so. I have eyes on the house now and will be confirming shortly,” Dallas assures me, standing up. He walks back to the van and I follow.

  “I still don’t understand how she got out of the bank without anyone seeing her,” I wonder aloud, stepping back in.

  “Here she is,” Davis says, pointing to a female exiting the bank. “She might have changed her hair, but facial recognition doesn’t lie. She looked right at the camera.”

  “Where is she going?”

  “She’s getting into that silver Ford. Davis, run those plates,” Dallas orders.

  “On it,” he says, typing in the information. Within minutes, a name pops up, as well as an address—the same address for the house in the mountains.

  Picking up a phone, Dallas dials. “Max, it’s D
allas. Can you tell me if a silver Ford, license plate JDC 8834 is parked near the house?” He waits, then nods his head. “Thanks,” he mutters, hanging up the phone. “Gotcha.”

  SIX HOURS LATER, Travis and I along with some other local police, are following the FBI up to the house. “I’m worried, Travis,” I say, confiding in him.

  “We’ll get her back,” he assures me.

  “That’s not what I’m worried ‘bout. I know she’s strong—God, she’s so strong—but I don’t know how much abuse she can take before she snaps and she’s gone.”

  “You can’t think that way. Just focus on bringing her home.”

  “I’m worried, is all,” I say on a sigh.

  “You really love her, don’t you?”

  Nodding, I answer, “More than I thought I could, after what happened with Celia.”

  “You need to stop doubting yourself. I know that pain ran deep, but Celia was a two timing whore. Not every woman’s like that,” Travis reminds me.

  “I know that now.”

  “Good. You keep thinking positive thoughts. Everything’s gonna work out. You’ll see.”

  The convoy of FBI and police cars drive down a long dirt road that splits two directions at the end. The lead car stops and everyone gets out. As Travis and I close our doors, Dallas walks over. “This is your last stop,” he murmurs. “We’ll take it from here.”

  “The hell you will!” I roar. I won’t accept anything less than being there for Lani when they pull her out of that house. My pulse quickens as I try to control my temper.

  “It’s too dangerous,” Dallas argues.

  “I signed my freedom over to this country, just like you, and that girl means more to me than you can imagine. I will stop at nothin’ to get to her, and you can believe that.” I’m seething, my entire body vibrating with anger.

  “That’s the problem. You’re too emotionally involved in this case. That’s how you make mistakes.”

  “I said I’d play by your rules, and I am, but don’t shut me out when I can be an asset,” I argue back. “I promised I’d protect her and I have every intention of doin’ just that.”

  Dallas rubs the top of his bald head, then sighs. “Fine. But you do everything I say. Is that understood?”