When this was over, when they’d caught Alice, Payton was going away. Somewhere far from Texas and Chaz and Martha. She’d find a place where she couldn’t screw up anyone else’s life.
Arizona could be nice. All that sun, no cold weather. She could get a place off the grid and finally be free. Free from her father’s legacy. Free from her own stupid decisions. Free from the DEA. All of it.
She drained the last of her mug and rinsed it in the kitchen.
Tate would be here sometime mid-afternoon. She was hoping for some kind of news on the shooters, the investigation from Webb.
Unlike a typical agent, Payton couldn’t just walk her happy ass into the DEA offices. She was so far under cover that most agents didn’t know who she was or that she existed. Webb was old-school that way. Given the number of agents he’d worked with who’d taken bribes, she couldn’t say that she blamed him. If she didn’t dislike his cutthroat tactics so much, she might thank him for being so careful with her real life.
He wasn’t doing it for her though. What mattered to him was closing cases, and if that meant putting her in a tight spot, she didn’t doubt he’d do it. It was why he was still so bitter about her firm stance to become an agent. With credentials came procedure. And procedure would hopefully keep her alive. There were rules that Webb had to follow with her that he might not if she were simply an asset. Which was why she’d had her credentials and service weapon collecting dust in a safety deposit box for the last two years until she swung by the Houston bank to pick them up before heading to Dallas. Those just might save her life in the end.
In an effort to protect her and the case, she might as well be a real criminal. Until Webb was back to officially debrief her and transition her out of the field, she was stuck in limbo, waiting at his beck and call. She couldn’t even hand off the phone. Without her on hand to guide the process the forensics team would likely trip one of the fail safes, rendering the phone a really ugly paperweight.
Chances were, she’d be flown out to Houston where they were holding the rest of Alice’s team and the product confiscated from Alice’s plane. Payton would be of more use there. And she wanted the damn phone out of her hands. She was tired of the responsibility riding on her. Let it become someone else’s problem.
The phone was the key to the whole case. Not only because it contained the details of Alice’s operation and what concoctions she’d distributed where. It also contained dirt. Material to blackmail port officials and federal employees so she could get what she wanted. And lastly, her contact list. Everyone worth knowing was in that phone. Any one of those three things made it invaluable. The combination on one device was...priceless.
It’d taken Payton two years of being the fake Mr. Smoke for Alice to trust her enough to put the phone in her hands. Even then, it was password protected and needed a finger print to access the device. Three incorrect attempts would trigger the first fail safe. Acid. Not only would it destroy the phone, but it would trigger the two detonators on either end of the case.
An ugly surprise for any would be thief.
Alice had never confided the password to Payton. Or anyone else. But once Alice trusted Payton, once she’d let down her walls, she’d begun handing it to Payton without activating the lock screen. And that was all Payton needed to download the first of several system update packets. These viruses could reprogram the phone. Remove the triggers.
The only catch was that the thumbprint couldn’t be bypassed.
So, they’d used Payton’s.
Webb needed her to crack it open and build a case against not only Alice, but a dozen other people.
It was the kind of bust people like her lived for. Yes, it’d taken two years of her life, but in one move, they’d take out the leaders in the illegal pharmaceutical drug trade.
If it weren’t for that, if Payton’s presence wasn’t explicitly needed, maybe she’d leave today.
She wandered back into the living room.
A week ago, everything seemed so simple.
Do a casual drop in on Chaz, see Martha, kill some time and after Christmas head into the office to start debriefing and assist in building a case. Somewhere in all that, she’d start the paperwork for a transfer. A desk job. Something she could do that wouldn’t cost her soul.
She could leave the DEA. And do what?
Her criminal justice degree and her work history made her uniquely suited to do a few things. And that was it.
Webb would pitch a fit.
Maybe it was best if she went somewhere else.
New Mexico. California. Somewhere warmer.
Payton crossed to the little writing desk. There were pens, paper, a couple hook-ups for electronics.
She picked up one of the slim, black pens and tapped it against the paper.
Tate could likely get her a copy of the transfer request. Not that anything would happen this close to Christmas, but she should start on it now. Before she talked to Webb. Before someone insisted she was the only person who could do an op.
She liked knowing she was on the right side, but it was time to admit she didn’t want to work in undercover anymore.
Payton pulled out the chair and uncapped the pen.
First, she needed a plan of action. A list she could work from.
At the top of it had to be, say goodbye to Chaz.
But could she do it?
Faced with him, the anger, the betrayal...the thought of seeing him hating her...she couldn’t do it.
A letter, then?
It wasn’t right. That was the coward’s way out. But when it came to Chaz, she couldn’t look him in the face and say goodbye without destroying the last bit of her heart.
Chaz eyed the mug. It had some sort of lizard on it. But of course it would.
“Sleep okay?” Kyle slapped Chaz on the shoulder.
“Yeah.”
Kyle leaned against the counter and peered across the house toward his sister’s, Abby’s, room. There’d been an underlying tension between the siblings since Chaz had arrived last night. He’d spent quite a bit of time making the insurance claim on the house. Nothing more could be done until things had been assessed. He’d promised Arthur that he wouldn’t stay at the house and tempt fate.
Of course, he’d figured he could just crash at his mom’s condo, but the world had other plans. Mom hadn’t mentioned having work done to the place while she was gone. Abby’s offer of their spare room was a godsend, especially after a full shift and being on his feet.
His knee wasn’t giving him as much hell as it had been, which was one thing.
Kyle was still staring at Chaz in a way that wasn’t exactly friendly.
“Something you want to say?” Chaz asked.
“You hurt my sister.”
So, that was it.
Chaz shifted to lean against the island and face Kyle.
The siblings were...volatile, to say the least. Some of which Chaz understood, what with living with Payton as teens. But that’d been...different. Even then.
“I did. I didn’t mean to, but I did.” Chaz set the mug down. “I—”
The door at the end of the hall creaked open.
Chaz closed his mouth so hard his teeth clicked. Kyle turned, busying himself with pouring a cup of coffee. Abby shuffled out with her hair in a messy bun and wearing over-sized clothes.
“Kyle, shut up,” she mumbled on her way to the coffee.
“I didn’t say anything.” He threw up his hands.
Abby merely grunted.
Kyle darted a glare Chaz’s way behind her back. Abby smacked Kyle in the stomach, making him spew hot liquid on Chaz. After that, the sniping began in earnest. Chaz scooted out of the way and toward his cell phone charging at the end of the bar.
One missed call.
He blocked out the bickering and swiped his finger over the screen.
All of five minutes ago.
An unknown number.
Not Payton.
He shouldn’
t get his hopes up. She was under protective custody after all.
Besides, Chaz had about a dozen people to see regarding the damage to the house. Insurance to cut a check, estimates for fixing things and so forth.
He unplugged the phone and hit dial since they hadn’t left a message.
The line rang a couple of times.
“Tate.”
“This is Chaz Fair—”
“Chaz. I’m Marshal Tate.”
“Marshal...I don’t know a Marshal. I’m sorry, who are you with?” Chaz plugged his ear.
“No, I’m with the US Marshals. Is—what’s going on over there?”
“Kids fighting.” Chaz exited into the garage, which was a toasty ninety degrees. Abby kept her reptiles out here to appease her brother. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Actually, I have something to drop off for you. I swung by your place but you weren’t there.”
“Right. No, I wasn’t. What do you have for me?”
“Something from your friend.”
Payton.
The Marshal wouldn’t even say her name.
Things must be bad.
Chaz gave Tate directions to the Winters’ house and began pacing.
He didn’t like this.
What would Payton have to give him?
Chaz returned to the on-going sibling war.
“Guys,” he bellowed over them. “A federal officer’s going to be here any minute. Go to your corners.”
Kyle flipped him the bird, his face flushed.
Abby crossed her arms over her chest, glaring daggers at her brother’s back as he stomped down the hall to his bedroom.
“Everything...okay?” Chaz shoved his feet into his sneakers and loaded his pockets down with wallet and keys.
“Yeah. What’s this about?” Abby turned to watch him. “Is Payton in trouble?”
Chaz knew what Abby was thinking. He couldn’t tell her the truth, but neither did he like the people in his life assuming she was the source of all his problems. Besides, he shouldn’t have blurted out the federal officer bit. He could have just said someone was swinging by about his house.
The cat was out of the bag.
“Payton’s sending over something,” he said instead.
“They let criminals send federal officers to do their chores?”
“She’s not a criminal, Abby,” Chaz said with more force than he should have. He couldn’t tell Abby the whole truth. That she was a fed on a sensitive case, but he could fudge things a bit. Make Abby understand without revealing Payton’s secrets. “She’s...she’s an undercover cop.”
Abby stared, mouth agape, eyes wide.
Fuck. He couldn’t say anything else, but he needed to talk to someone. It shouldn’t be Abby. But she was the one here. She deserved to know the truth.
“I just found out, I shouldn’t have said that.” Chaz shoved his hand through his hair.
“Wait like—today or—”
“Yesterday. Everything, all the shit I’ve told you, it’s because she’s undercover. So much stuff makes sense now.” He braced his hands on the counter.
“You’re serious? Payton? Your sister?”
“Yeah.”
“Holy... Shit. I...I’m sorry, Chaz. Shit.” Abby turned to stand next to him. “I owe her an apology.”
“Me, too. I’ve thought—and said—a lot of really awful things about her over the years that...weren’t true.” He owed her so many apologies.
“You’ve been in love with her, haven’t you?” Abby peered up at him.
“Uh...”
“Or you like her.”
Chaz shrugged.
“You’ve never dated anyone seriously. Ever. And it’s not because they weren’t nice girls. I still think you were crazy for dumping Jessica, but she wasn’t Payton, was she?” Abby’s too perceptive gaze bored into his skull. “You don’t have to answer that, it’s all over your face.”
The doorbell beckoned Chaz away.
Fucking hell.
He’d barely realized the depth of his feelings for Payton, and Abby could see them plain as day.
Chaz unlocked the door and swung it open.
A young black man in slacks and a long-sleeve polo stood on the door step. Chaz vaguely recalled seeing him yesterday.
“Tate?” Chaz held out his hand. “Chaz Fairchild. Come in?”
“Thanks.” Tate stepped over the threshold, his gaze sweeping the room. He smiled and nodded at Abby, then directed his attention back to Chaz. “I just came to drop this off. Your friend said it was important? I’m headed over to see her if you want me to take anything.”
“Would you like some coffee?” Abby smiled over her mug.
Tate seemed to consider it for a moment.
Chaz ripped the envelope open. Three sheets of hand-written pages were folded up inside.
“It’s fresh.” Abby poured a mug and brought it to Tate.
The blood rushing past Chaz’s ears was too loud to make out their conversation, the small talk.
The first few words in Payton’s looping, puffy script chilled him to the bone.
He needed space. He needed to get away from people.
Chaz stepped out onto the front porch, the chilly morning be damned, and strode across the lawn to his truck parked at the curb. He climbed in behind the wheel and sat in the cold vehicle, the words on the page turning his blood to ice.
Chaz,
The last thing I wanted to do was cause trouble and mess up your life. It’s the one thing I’m good at, it seems. After this case is over, I’m leaving. I don’t know where I’m going...
The rest of the words were a blur. She tried for funny, but even the written words fell flat.
She thought...she thought he hated her. That refusing to go with her was some sort of admission that he didn’t want her.
He sat back and scrubbed his hand over his face.
Payton meant to leave him.
It’d be one thing if she didn’t want to be with him. If they wouldn’t work out. But from what he’d seen...they had a chance. There was something there. And maybe Abby was right. He’d never really given another relationship priority, but he would with Payton. Because he knew they could work. She had to give up on this idea that she was the common denominator when it came to what was wrong with things. The way he saw it, she’d taken the disaster that fate dealt her and bluffed her way to the final table. Payton was one of a kind, and he’d be damned if he let her go without the chance to show her how he saw her.
Tate stepped out of the front door, a wide smile on his face. Abby leaned out, her glasses sitting at an angle on her face.
He should stop the Marshal. Get him to...what? Take a letter back to Payton?
This was between them. He needed to look her in the eye and tell her this wasn’t over.
Tate jogged down the drive and strode a couple cars away to a newer-model SUV.
Chaz started his truck before he could put too much thought into what he was about to do. It probably broke a few laws, but this was his Payton.
She couldn’t leave him.
Not now.
Chaz let the SUV ease onto the street first. He counted to five, then followed. Instead of turning right, he gassed it and went two streets over, and turned. There was only one way to the main street from the Winters’ house.
Sure enough, Tate was pulling through the stop sign as Chaz approached. He did a rolling stop and forced himself to not run up on the other guy’s bumper.
Chaz had never tailed anyone, only seen it on TV. Besides, he had no idea if Tate was going straight to Payton or stopping somewhere along the way. All he could do...was wait. Bide his time. And hope he could see her before she made an epic mistake.
14.
Payton shut the front door a little too hard behind Tate. She didn’t even offer to help carry the groceries.
“Did you give it to him?” She’d been ready to crawl the walls for twenty-four hours with nothing to do besi
des think herself to death.
“I did. This morning. He took it and walked out. No idea where he went.” Tate shrugged and set the groceries on the counter. “I was going to wait around, see if he had something for you, but he was just gone.”
“He likely got called into work.” Payton sighed and sat on one of the bar stools, trying to not be too upset—and failing.
“Webb called. He should be back in Dallas by the morning—with the suspects they rounded up in the bust.”
“Great.” She tried to muster some enthusiasm. Webb’s presence would mean a more focused search for Alice now that they had the idea she was in the area.
“You need me to get you something? A movie? A book?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks for the food.”
“No problem. I usually keep the place better stocked, but we just got done with a long, involved case.”
“I’m just grateful for a roof over my head. Go on. You’re busy and I can do this stuff on my own. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“You locking all the doors? Keeping the security system on-line?” Tate ignored her and started putting the cold foods away.
“Yes, and I’m brushing my teeth, washing behind my ears and wearing clean underwear.”
“Good girl.” Tate flashed her a grin. “Met some of your guy’s friends.”
“Yeah?”
“Red-headed woman?”
Abby.
Payton’s mouth went dry.
Well, she’d expected Chaz and Abby to fit like puzzle pieces, but Payton had hoped her pillow would at least be cold before he replaced her. Guess he realized what a good thing he’d been missing all along.
“Looks like I have a date for New Year’s.”
“What?” Payton shook her head and blinked at Tate.
“Yeah, first time I’ve had a woman ask me out. I could get used to that. How’s dating a fireman, anyway? They get the hours we work?”
“Abby asked you out?”
“Girl, you sure you got some sleep?” Tate peered at her from across the counter.
“Not much.”
“Well, get some rest. As soon as Webb gets back, I get the feeling no one will be sleeping.” Tate checked his phone. “I’m headed out. You need anything, hit the button on the security system. I’ll check back in at the end of the day. You still packing?”
Up in Smoke (Firehouse Three, #4) Page 13