Nothing to Hide

by Allison Brennan

  “Doesn’t always happen. He got out two months ago. We sent a scout to do surveillance yesterday to confirm the tip—I was suspicious because of something the caller said that reminded me of Kane, so I called him, thinking it was one of his people. It wasn’t. Then I pulled the list of all the known Saints gang members. At first I didn’t put two and two together—but the scout returned with a photo of Brian going into the house with Jose, and I realized Torres was out of prison. But neither of them was there when we raided. Is Brian missing?”

  Sean looked out at the field. Brian was warming up with his team. Michael and the rest of the boys from St. Catherine’s were in the bleachers with Sister Ruth.

  “No. I’m with him now.”

  “Jose wasn’t in the house. I know you have an affinity for those boys—I do, too. But Jose is bad news. He did extra time because his attitude got him into more trouble behind bars. If Brian has been initiated, you’ve got to get him away from those boys.”

  “I know what’s going on.” Michael was trying to save Brian. And somehow, Jesse was involved. Shit shit shit! How could Sean protect any of them if they lied to him?

  “Sounds like you know more than I do.”

  “Michael’s trying to get Brian away from his brother. That means he’s been following him, found out about the house—tipped you off.” With Jesse. That’s why Jesse and Michael had been spending so much time together—they were partners in this … this intervention.

  “I trust Michael,” Brad said, “he’s never going to be one of them, but he can be ruthless and reckless, and you know it. Worse, do you realize what the Saints will do to him if they find out? That house was new—just started up when Jose got out. That means very few people know about it. He’s going to think Brian betrayed him—or he knows about Michael. And get this—Lucy had me run a plate last week. Said it was a car that looked suspicious around Saint Catherine’s. I didn’t think anything of the owner, a distant cousin of Jaime Sanchez, and the address is in the general area of Saint Catherine’s. But—it’s the house we raided, and the distant cousin who owns the car? He’s working a long-term job in Houston. Seems he let the Saints back in, but didn’t stick around.”

  “I have eyes on all of the boys. I’ll find the truth.”

  “Are you at Saint Catherine’s? I’m heading there now.”

  “No. Brian has a soccer game at Houston Park on Guadalupe. The boys are here watching him.”

  “I’ll be there in twenty. Until we know where Jose and the rest of the gang are, Brian and Michael are both in danger. I’m sending you a recent photo of Jose—and also, I talked to Kane late last night when I put everything together. He’s flying up now, should be landing soon.”

  “Thanks, Brad.”

  Sean hung up, jumped out of his car, and opened his trunk. He pulled out an extra gun and ammo, concealed everything with a light windbreaker. Then he called Nate Dunning, his closest friend in town who, fortunately, was on FBI SWAT and one of the few people Sean trusted explicitly.

  “Want to watch a soccer game?”

  “Sure, I guess. When.”

  “Now. And bring extra firepower. We might need it.”

  * * *

  As soon as Sean caught Michael’s eye, Michael knew that he knew the truth. Sean didn’t wait for him to approach, but went right over to Sister Ruth.

  “Ruth, we may have a situation. Can you keep the boys here with you? In the stands? My friend Nate Dunning with the FBI will be here soon and he’s going to sit with you and keep an eye out. I need to talk to Michael.”

  “Sean, what’s going on?” Ruth asked, concerned.

  “Brian’s brother was released from prison and is back with his gang.”

  “Should we go home?”

  “Not until I can get you protection there. Where’s Mateo?”

  “He’s visiting local nursing homes with a group of parishioners. I can try to reach him—”

  “No, it’s better that he’s out now. I’ll talk to him later.”

  Sean looked at Michael and didn’t say a word. Michael followed him to a spot under the trees behind the bleachers. Sean could see the entrance to the parking lot from their location.

  “Tell me everything,” Sean said.

  “What do you know?”

  “So you can lie to me? Like Jesse has been?”

  Michael straightened his spine. “I told him we could handle this on our own.”

  “You can’t. You’re playing with fire and putting your own head on the chopping block. Dammit, Michael! You were responsible for taking out Jaime Sanchez’s operation and sending half the Saints to prison. Those who scattered, where do you think they went? Back to the Saints. You think they’re going to forgive you? You’re not that stupid.”

  Michael glared at him. “Brian knows he made a mistake, we’re fixing it.”

  “You should have come to me.”

  “You don’t know how to handle these people. I would have called Kane if I thought it was necessary. Instead, I called in a tip to the DEA.”

  “Donnelly called me. He figured out that it was you.”

  That surprised Michael.

  “You’re playing with fire. The raid was a complete success—except that Jose Torres wasn’t captured, and they think a handful of his gang slipped out with him. He’s going to know that either you or Brian made that call and he’ll come after you. Maybe you’re prepared to fight and die, but what about the others?” Sean swept his hand to the stands, where the seven other boys living at St. Catherine’s were excited to watch Brian and his team compete. “You saved them only to condemn them. And you dragged Jesse in with you.”

  Michael glared at him. This kid did not back down. Sean admired his tenacity, his deep sense of right and wrong, but worried that his stubbornness would get him hurt. Or worse. “Jesse is the one who saw Jose with Brian in the first place,” Michael said. “He’s the one who got pictures and told me. I figured out it was Jose and we confronted Brian. I was prepared to expel him, but he came around, he understands what is at stake, and he’s mine to protect.”

  “And you’re mine. Dammit, Michael, you’re not alone and you need to stop acting like you’re the only one who cares about these boys. I care. Lucy cares. What about Mateo and Ruth? Do you think Torres is going to give a priest and nun a pass? And while you think you had a plan, your plan sucked. You need more than an anonymous call to shut down this operation.”

  “Jose was supposed to be there,” Michael said quietly. “Brian made sure of it. I don’t know how he disappeared.”

  This kid was so smart and so stupid all rolled into one.

  “Who hit Jesse? I want the truth.”

  “He told you?”

  “No. He lied to me. I think to protect you and Brian. What the fuck happened? He has a cracked rib and I know what taking a punch looks like.”

  Michael took a deep breath. “Wednesday Brian skipped out on the second half of practice to meet Jose. Jesse chased after him. It wasn’t just Jose, but a couple of his thugs. Jesse tried to talk Brian out of going. Jose punched him. He doesn’t know who Jesse is, Brian swears that he told Jose that Jesse was just a friend from soccer. I will protect him.”

  “You can’t even protect yourself, Michael. Don’t give me that look—why didn’t you trust me? What have I done to make you not trust me?”

  That surprised Michael. “I will always trust you. But you are not in this battle. You’re not like your brother.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You have something to lose.”

  Sean stared at him. He thought he understood Michael—but he didn’t, not until that moment. “Because of my family?”

  Michael nodded.

  “You are my family, Michael.”

  “Jesse is your family.”

  This was a conversation they needed to have, but not now. Nate pulled up in the parking lot and Sean motioned for him. “We’re going to have a long talk when this is over, Mic
hael—because it’s not over. Nate’s going to stick with the boys for the duration. Donnelly is on his way, and Kane is flying in from Hidalgo.”

  “You called Kane?”

  “Donnelly did. Because he’s the one who figured this out. And dammit, you are going to come clean completely, because you just put a bull’s-eye on everyone at Saint Catherine’s. Brian may have started it, but I could have extracted him from that without you getting involved. I may not be Kane, but never underestimate my ability to get shit done.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Saturday Late Morning

  Lucy made it to the soccer game just before halftime. She was surprised to see both Nate Dunning and Brad Donnelly there—Nate was sitting with the boys from St. Catherine’s, and both Brad and Sean were clearly working a protection gig.

  She walked up to Sean and kissed him. “What’s going on?”

  “Long story short: Brian’s gangbanger brother is out of prison. Michael turned him in to the DEA—but he slipped away.”

  “Does he know Michael turned him in?”

  “We’re assuming that he does.”

  “This is what Jesse has been keeping from us,” Lucy said.

  “Yes.”

  It was clear now. Michael had a knack for instilling loyalty in people. It’s how he had led the boys at St. Catherine’s during their darkest hour. It’s how he kept them alive. They trusted him. Jesse trusted him.

  But Michael was still a kid, and he was not bulletproof.

  Sean continued. “I haven’t had the chance to talk to Jesse. He’s with his team.” He paused, glanced at her. “Kane’s on his way.”

  “It’s that serious?”

  “Brad thinks so. I have some ideas on how to draw Torres out.”

  “You know why Jesse didn’t talk to you, right?”

  “No. I don’t. I should have been the first person he came to.”

  “He wants to be strong like you and Kane.”

  “Like Kane.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Michael essentially said that if he thought this situation was serious enough, he would have called Kane. That I have too much to lose.”

  “Don’t take that personally. Kane is a warrior to Michael.”

  “That kid—I don’t know what to think.”

  “You love him. He trusts you, Sean—but he’s been solving his own problems for years. It’s not going to be easy for him to change.”

  “But now Jesse is involved. I just—damn, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

  “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

  Brad approached before Lucy could say anything else. Sean always took things personally, and she had to get him to see what was really going on.

  “Hey, Lucy, thought you were working.”

  “I am. I’m waiting for a call that our suspect has been located.”

  “Status?” Sean asked Brad.

  “I have two agents patrolling. No sign of Torres.”

  “Do you think he would show up here? At a soccer game?”

  Brad shook his head. “I think he’s going to hang low until he can hit hard. Does Brian know what his brother was in prison for?”

  “I don’t know,” Sean said. “We were focused on the boys’ parents. I can tell you the fate or disposition of every mother and father of those boys, but not siblings. I should have seen this coming.”

  “I should have seen this coming,” Brad said. “You’re not a cop, Sean. I had all their files. I should have tagged Jose Torres.”

  “I have an idea,” Sean said.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I want all the boys in my house. I have the room.”

  “You can protect them there, but they have to go to school. They can’t live there forever.”

  “Michael and Brian will remain at Saint Catherine’s. Jose is going to be looking for them, and he’ll think that a house with a nun as the only adult will be easy pickings.”

  “Bait.”

  “It’s the only way. This can’t drag on for weeks or months. We don’t have the manpower to watch them all twenty-four seven. We lay a trap. It’s the only way we can protect them. But we keep this information tight and contained. I know your house is clean, but I can’t risk anyone getting wind of this.”

  “The two agents I have with me today I trust with my life. We’ll keep it small and sharp. Plus we have Kane and Nate, right?”

  Sean nodded.

  “Good. I’m waiting for intel back on Torres and the two others that slipped away, then we’ll figure out a solid plan.”

  Sean looked down at his phone. “Kane just landed. He’ll be here before the game is over.”

  * * *

  Lucy left just as Kane arrived at the soccer field. “Where’s she going,” he asked Sean in lieu of hello.

  “Back to work. Murder suspect has been located.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  For now, it was him, Brad, and Kane. Michael was back in the stands with Nate and the boys, and Brad’s two agents were patrolling the park.

  Sean told Kane what he wanted to do—split up the boys and set a trap for Torres.

  “And when that fails?” Kane asked.

  “It’s a good plan.”

  “He’s not going to walk into a trap.”

  “Not if it’s obvious.”

  The last thing Sean needed right now was Kane completely taking over. He would lose all respect from Michael and Jesse. They both saw Kane as a hero, a warrior—and he was. Sean loved and admired his brother more than anyone on the planet. Sean couldn’t compete with that. He hadn’t even been able to protect Jesse and Madison in his own house.

  Maybe he should listen to Kane. Kane knew a hell of a lot more about this shit than Sean did.

  “Bait is a good idea,” Kane said, “but we need more intel about Torres. Who he runs with, what he’s done.”

  Brad said, “He was in prison for possession with intent and manufacturing meth. Because he fled the scene, resisted arrest, and shot a cop—not fatally—he was tried as an adult at the age of fifteen. Given five to ten. Served seven—three in juvie, four in max. Ties to the Saints through his father, who was killed in prison. I dug around last night into senior’s life—he was killed after the boys were rescued.”

  “Shit. So retaliation. And Torres probably knows that.”

  “Good bet.”

  Sean said, “According to Michael, Jose enticed Brian with dreams of being a family again. That they were brothers, bonded for life, and Brian had some sort of obligation to him. Michael said Brian has come back into the fold, but we need to verify that. This is his big brother—he has an idyllic image of him. He might be humoring Michael because Michael threatened to call you.”

  Kane stared at him. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “All those boys, include Jesse, see you as their savior. You fought for them and you won. Take no prisoners. I get it—you’re a hero.”

  “I’m no fucking hero.”

  “To them you are. No one can compete with that.”

  “Donnelly, check the perimeter,” Kane said without looking at the agent.

  Brad didn’t even object to the order, just turned and walked away.

  “Spill,” Kane said.

  What could Sean say? “I’m glad you’re here because I’m out of my depth with this bullshit, but the fact remains that Michael and my son see you as the only one who can fix this. They had every opportunity to tell me what was going on, but they didn’t. They thought they could fix it themselves, and if they couldn’t, you were waiting in the wings.”

  “This is what I do, Sean. So your nose is out of joint because they don’t see you as a killing machine? Damn, you’re an idiot. You’re just as much a hero to those kids as I am.”

  “Jesse lied to me! Torres punched him in the gut and cracked his rib and Jesse lied about it. He doesn’t think I can keep him safe.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “I coul
dn’t! His mother died because I couldn’t keep them safe. And deep down he knows that, and that’s why he didn’t tell me what was going on this week. And here we are.”

  “I’m going to tell you this once, Little Rogan. Jack and I were there, in the house, two of the best-trained mercenaries working today, and we couldn’t keep any of you safe. Get it? You were also a target. Are you so dead set on feeling guilty that you don’t remember that Carson Spade put a fucking million-dollar price on your head? Do you think that I didn’t feel exactly what you’re feeling when I woke up and my little brother was missing? That I couldn’t protect you when you asked for my help?

  “Get over the damn pity party right now, Sean, because we don’t have time for it. I don’t know what’s going through Michael’s or Jesse’s head right now. And neither do you. We’ll set them straight. But right now, I need you completely focused. You are the fucking smartest guy I know, but if you keep second-guessing yourself we’re going to fail, and I’m not about to lose any of those boys—not Michael, not Brian, and certainly not Jesse.”

  Sean wanted to hit Kane—and he wanted to hug him. He did neither. His emotions had been a wreck for the last two and a half months since Madison had been killed, and it was true—he had been holding on to the guilt because it was something tangible.

  But he had to let it go. He had to find a way to let it go and forgive himself.

  “What’s your plan?” Sean asked.

  “I was special forces. No way am I coming up with a strategy without more intel. First thing: We get those boys out of the line of fire, they’re sitting ducks here. Put Donnelly’s people at Saint Catherine’s with them. Then I’m talking to Brian, and no one is going to be in the room with me.”

  “Kane—”

  “I’m not going to beat him, but he will wish I did when I’m through. And I’ll know what we need to know to find Jose Torres and put an end to his threat, once and for all.”

  * * *

  Sean wished there was another way, but Kane was right—moving the boys into his house would split their protective detail, and everyone wanted to keep this operation as tight and controlled as possible. But Kane liked Sean’s idea of getting the younger boys as far from potential danger as they could. He called a friend, Father Francis in Hidalgo who’d served with Jack in the army—known as Padre to his closest friends, not because he was a priest, but because he had been a former seminarian when he first enlisted. He joined the priesthood when he left the army.