Dangerous Passage

by Lisa Harris

Revenge might be yours, Lord, but surely you don’t mind some help every now and then. I can’t let him get away with this again.

  No matter what explanation he came up with, Mason Taylor had to be responsible for the ambush at the warehouse, and this time she would prove it.

  Carlos stood outside one of the interrogation rooms, talking on his cell phone.

  Avery cut him off. “Where is he?”

  “Just a minute.” Carlos pressed the phone against his chest. “Who?”

  “Mason Taylor.”

  “He’s in interrogation room one, but—”

  “Alone?”

  “For the moment. I’m waiting for Captain Peterson to—”

  She didn’t have time for explanations. Avery shoved open the door to the room. Three chairs, one long, narrow table, and Mason. “I want to know what happened back there at the warehouse—”

  “Avery.” Carlos was right behind her.

  The metal door slammed shut behind them. “I just want five minutes, right now.”

  Mason stood, uncertainty marking his face, but he didn’t fool her. He never had. Dark blond hair that needed to be cut, day-old beard, and muscular frame. Her brother had trusted this man with his life. That had been Michael’s first mistake. Mason might as well have pulled the trigger on him.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Sit down, Mason.” Ignoring Carlos, Avery leaned forward, her hands braced against the table between them, waiting until he complied. Mason looked back at her, more confusion than defiance in his eyes, then finally sat down. “I was just told that my partner probably won’t make it out of surgery alive, and I want to know why. What were you doing this time? Playing the role of the inside man? The mole in the department we never found? They let you explain away my brother’s death, but if Mitch dies . . . this time I’m going to make sure you don’t get so lucky.”

  Mason managed to find his composure and shook his head at her. “I didn’t betray Michael, and I didn’t betray this department today.”

  “Really. Then explain it to me. Because the way I see it, you have everything to do with it. You were there at the warehouse. What else needs to be explained?”

  “I was your brother’s best friend. When are you going to realize that I had nothing to do with his death?”

  “When the evidence stops pointing in your direction.”

  At one time, she’d considered him a friend as well. He’d spent almost as much time at the Hunt dinner table as her brother had. But Michael’s death changed everything. And as much as she hadn’t wanted to believe the compelling evidence of Mason’s guilt, neither could she ignore it.

  “You knew Michael was walking into a trap. I have phone calls and a paper trail, all pointing to your involvement, and just because the department cleared you doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking for the truth. You can’t tell me you didn’t know. And now Mitch?”

  “Michael wasn’t supposed to be there that day, and you know it.” Mason’s voice rose, tinged with anger. “I warned him that he needed to stay away. I don’t know why he didn’t follow my instructions. I guess we’ll never know.”

  “Which is all very convenient for you, isn’t it?”

  “Avery, we’ve gone over this a hundred times.”

  “And we can go over it a hundred times more until I finally get the truth from you. And this time, you can add why my partner is now fighting for his life.”

  “I had nothing to do with what happened today.”

  “You can’t be serious. You were there. You’ve been arrested for harboring arms and as an accomplice to attempted murder.”

  “Avery?” Captain Peterson stood in the doorway. Arms crossed. Anger evident across his ebony features. “To my office now.”

  “I—”

  “Now.”

  She followed the captain down the hall, furious for the interruption. They could yank her off the case, but that wouldn’t change anything. She would find her brother’s killer.

  With only a few weeks on the job, the captain hadn’t had time to decorate his office. All that hung on the wall were a couple family photos of his wife and two grown children and a few awards. No clutter, frills, or excess, simply direct to the point like he always was. She missed the hands-on, fatherly approach her father had always taken with the officers. Captain Peterson was here to get things done. Nothing more.

  He pointed at the open chair and took the one behind his desk. “Sit down.”

  Avery hesitated. Standing would make her feel more in control, even if it went against the older man’s request.

  “Mason Taylor is responsible for what just happened. We were ambushed at that warehouse, and now Mitch is probably not going to make it through surgery.”

  “I understand how hard this is for you, and because of that I’m giving you a little slack for your behavior, but that doesn’t mean a screaming match between the two of you is justified—”

  “My behavior?”

  “Detective.” He pointed to the chair again.

  Avery closed her mouth and sat down.

  “I’ll start. Then, maybe, I’ll let you say your piece. Like I said, I realize that you just witnessed your partner getting shot. Something that is extremely traumatic, which is why I’m not sending you home on disciplinary leave, but don’t ever try and take over an interrogation like that again.”

  Avery balled her hands into fists. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with trauma. Maybe now you’ll believe the evidence I have against Mason Taylor in my brother’s case. We all know that there’s a mole in this department, and his presence at the warehouse proves—”

  “It doesn’t prove anything. He’s not under arrest.”

  Avery felt the air gush out of her lungs, suddenly glad she was sitting down. “What do you mean he’s not under arrest?”

  “Taylor has been working undercover. He infiltrated a ring of smugglers working at that warehouse and has already handed over a growing amount of evidence all tied to money laundering, fraud, weapons selling, and now apparently, human trafficking. Mason Taylor isn’t your bad guy. He’s in one of the interrogation rooms so no one on the outside realizes he’s undercover.”

  The room spun around her. “He was responsible for my brother’s death, and now Mitch . . . I don’t believe this is just a coincidence.”

  “I’ve read the file and your complaints against him, and while I can see where the evidence might point to him, there has never been enough to back up your theory. And despite what you think about the man, he’s always performed his job in an exemplary manner.”

  “But what about today? His presence at the warehouse wasn’t simply a coincidence. Surely you don’t believe in coincidences any more than I do.”

  “I told you, this wasn’t a coincidence. He was undercover.”

  Avery tried to make sense of what he was telling her. “Then why didn’t you tell us before we went in there that he might be in the middle of this? Mitch wouldn’t be in surgery right now. And if Mason really is working on our side, why didn’t he stop the ambush from happening?”

  Captain Peterson leaned forward. “Mason’s been working undercover, helping the FBI with a gun-trafficking investigation first discovered by our department. But even I wasn’t privy to all the details, including today’s meeting with the buyers. Mason tried to stop it once he realized what was happening. Which means that if Mason hadn’t been there, more of you could have been hurt.”

  Avery still didn’t buy it. “They met us with open fire.”

  “They thought it was a raid on the weapons they were getting ready to transport. The reason more people weren’t hurt is because of Mason. He told them to stand down once he realized what was happening.”

  But by then it had already been too late.

  The captain’s arguments did nothing to convince her of Mason’s innocence. Too many things simply weren’t adding up. “What if I get you the evidence you need?”

  �
�How are you going to do that?”

  “I’ve found another witness that slipped through the cracks—or as I’m beginning to believe, was purposely covered up.”

  “You do it on your own time and don’t let it affect your work. And don’t bring anything to me until you can back it up with hard evidence.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I need you to stay on this case, because you’re one of the best detectives I’ve got, but I won’t hesitate to pull you off if you can’t put your feelings aside. If you can’t do this—”

  “I can.”

  “And you’ll do it with Mason’s help.”

  Avery bit back the angry retort that surfaced. “You expect me to work with him?”

  Captain Peterson ignored her question. “He’s been working for the Sourns, and he has information he’s been gathering that might help with your illegal alien case. Maybe between the two of you, you’ll be able to put Sourn away for good.”

  “This isn’t just a case of illegal aliens. Girls are being trafficked across the country, and Sourn is our biggest lead right now.”

  “This is exactly why I want Mason working with you. And why I need you to put aside any personal feelings you might have and work with him to solve these cases. Right now we’ve got two murdered girls, a police raid gone bad, and one of our own that might not make it through the day—not to mention the gun running and everything else Sourn and his people are involved in. I want this case closed and put behind us before anyone else gets hurt.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “And in the meantime, I want you to take the rest of the day off—”

  “I can’t—”

  “You don’t have a choice, Detective North. You won’t be following up on what happened today, anyway. I’m putting Rogers’s team in charge of wrapping up what happened at the warehouse, though I’ll let Tory and Carlos join them if that makes you feel better. You’ll be working with Mason on tying Robert Sourn to the trafficking and weapons smuggling. But not today.”

  There was no use arguing that she wanted to be the one to take down Mitch’s murderer as well. From day one, Captain Peterson had run the precinct like a military general and made it clear that just because she was the daughter of the previous captain, there would be no special treatment.

  “What about the Sourns?”

  “I’ll make sure someone lets you know when they’re brought in, but for now, I want you to rest. I’ll see you on Monday morning at oh seven hundred hours for a meeting between you and Mason. Maybe by then you’ll have cooled off a bit, so you won’t end up killing each other.”

  34

  Avery paced the carpeted floor of the hospital’s waiting room. She’d forgotten just how much she hated being enclosed within the walls of a building, engulfed with sickness and dying. Because no matter how prepared she thought she was to face death in her job, its presence always came as a surprise. Especially when it was one of her own.

  Too much blood loss . . . Hit an artery . . . We don’t expect him to make it through the surgery . . .

  She’d chosen to hang on to the last shred of hope until five minutes ago when the surgeon had spoken the words she’d prayed she wouldn’t hear. I’m sorry, but we lost him.

  Mitch was dead.

  Avery stopped at the large window overlooking a row of oak trees that lined the hospital’s landscaped grounds. They had attempted to create a relaxing atmosphere using natural sunlight and nature, but none of their efforts helped to ease the grief and frustration inside her. Instead, the doctor’s final words had shattered the remaining hope she’d held on to. She now had to tell Mitch’s parents, who were flying in from Orlando, as well as his fiancée, who was driving to the hospital right now, that Mitch was gone. And then somehow find a way to help them all put the pieces back together again. This wasn’t supposed to have happened.

  Avery sank into a chair and studied a row of yellow marigolds starting to wilt from the afternoon sun. Mitch’s vest was supposed to protect him from bullets, but instead the rifle cartridge had hit the seam and penetrated his chest. There was nothing the doctors could have done to save him. Nothing, she’d been assured, that any of them could have anticipated and stopped from happening. But no matter how many times she replayed the scenario, all the assurances fell short. They should have been able to secure the building and anyone inside in a matter of seconds, but instead they’d been hit with gunfire. There had been little time to react beyond running for cover.

  For Mitch it had been too late.

  “Avery?”

  She turned as her father dropped his cell into his pocket. She’d been so lost in her own world, she hadn’t even realized he’d been talking to someone. He’d insisted on staying with her, a gesture she’d appreciated more than he knew, while her mother—and two police officers—stayed home with Tess until they had a handle on what had happened at the warehouse. The last thing she wanted was her family caught up in the fallout of this case. Enough people had been hurt already.

  “Tory just called and wanted to know how you’re doing. They’re finishing up at the scene and will report back to you as soon as they’re done.”

  Avery nodded. “Thanks.”

  He sat down beside her on one of the hard leather chairs. “I told her you were handling things as well as could be expected.”

  “Which is a nice way of saying I’ve completely fallen apart?”

  “Considering the circumstances, I think you’re handling things quite well.” He’d been through this with her before. “It’s okay to hurt, Avery. Mitch was a huge part of your life.”

  “Which is why I can’t stop thinking about Kayleigh.” She pulled back, glad for his presence, while at the same time feeling an irrational frustration that her father didn’t have the power to make it all just go away. “I don’t know how to tell her Mitch is gone.”

  She felt a heaviness in her chest as reality began to sink into her own mind. “I’ve heard the words ‘your husband isn’t coming home.’ ‘Your brother was killed serving his country.’ I know what it’s like to have your entire world shatter in an instant.”

  “Which is why Kayleigh is going to need you. You’ve been where she is right now.”

  Avery tried to swallow, but her mouth felt as if it were full of sand. She reached for her drink and fumbled with the straw. The ice had long since melted, watering down the tea to a flavorless liquid, but at least it was wet.

  She set the drink back down, stood, and started pacing again. Intellectually, she knew he was right. She did understand all too well what Kayleigh was about to face, but the thought of telling her that Mitch was dead still seemed too surreal . . . How had things turned into such an ugly nightmare that she couldn’t wake up from?

  “I still don’t know if I can tell her.”

  “You can. Because Mitch would want you to be the one to tell her.”

  Avery stopped and dropped her gaze to the black-and-gray pattern on the carpeted floor, knowing he was right. Perspiration beaded at the base of her neck. The air conditioner was struggling to keep up with the hot Georgia afternoon. Like the day Ethan had died.

  The memory swam through her mind. She’d been at her mother’s that day. They’d sat on the front porch together, sipping iced tea and waiting for the next breeze to float by while the repairman fixed the air conditioner that had gone out during one of the hottest weeks of the summer.

  Michael . . . Ethan . . . Mitch . . . She’d lost all of them. And they’d all been protecting the people of this city. Sometimes life was so unfair.

  “Mitch should be here right now.” Tears began forming again. “He should be alive and planning a wedding with Kayleigh. He called me a few nights ago and told me he’d bought a seven-day cruise package for their honeymoon as a surprise, but he was afraid he’d end up telling her. He never could keep a secret.”

  “You’re right.” Her father moved in front of her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Just like Ethan and Michael, he should sti
ll be here, but we both know all too well that’s not always how life works.”

  “Sometimes I don’t know if I want to do this anymore.” Tears formed in her eyes. “What if we take down Sourn? There’ll just be someone else to take his place. I solve one crime, and there’s always more waiting for me. It never ends.”

  Her father took her hand and led her to the row of chairs overlooking the hospital grounds. “It’s hard whenever someone makes the wrong choice that affects others around him, but you can’t let that change who you are.”

  “My head knows that.” She sat down beside him. “But my heart . . . Is there ever a time when it’s best just to walk away?” The idea wasn’t new, but today, the reality of her choices engulfed her like a raging storm. “I have a daughter to think about, a family who cares about me, and a relationship to explore with Jackson. How do I know that tomorrow I won’t walk into a situation like today, and I’m the one who doesn’t come home?”

  “We can’t know, Avery. None of us do.”

  “It just hurts so bad.”

  “I know.”

  Her father gathered her into his arms and let her sob. The strain of the past week, every moment of despair and heartache she’d witnessed, flooded through her. Sometimes life simply wasn’t fair. Sometimes the good guys didn’t win. Sometimes none of it made sense.

  He reached down and grabbed a handful of tissues from the square side table, handed them to her, then waited for her to blow her nose.

  Avery dropped the used tissues into the trash. “Thanks for being here.”

  “You know I’m always here for you.”

  Kayleigh would be here any moment, which meant she had to get control of her emotions—at least for now.

  “One last thing.” Her father took her hands in his. “You do what you do, because while it might not save the world, what you did today matters to Malaya, and it will matter for the rest of the girls when you find them. What you do matters, and that is why God has given you the courage to get out of bed every morning and face evil head-on.”

  Avery nodded, trying to draw strength from his words. It might not be enough for right now, but later, when she had a chance to step back from the situation, his encouragement would give her something to hold on to. She blew her nose again, then took a deep breath.