Jordan studied the girl’s face, the brilliant, silver eyes and long, black lashes were the reason Tara felt so familiar. She was the feminine image of her brother, both of them blessedly beautiful.
Tara pulled her hand back toward herself, motioning for Jordan to follow.
No way. Where would Tara take her? Heaven? Hell?
Jordan tried to resist following, but the pull was too strong. She recognized the streets of Titus, the restaurants, the bank, the gas station. Even Buck’s sleazy nightclub. Christ, they were in hell.
The Main Street Diner sparkled with Christmas lights, and Tara stopped in front of it. Why would Tara take her here?
The door opened. A large banner featuring Santa in a sleigh heaped with eight dollar pizzas hung on the wall as the Tuesday special. The neon clock next to it read 2:10.
Arlo and Warren Buck were seated at a table with two other men, strangers to Jordan.
A Longdale cop with buzzed, blond hair sat drinking coffee at the counter. He was a regular at Buck’s. Ty had been friendly with him, because they’d worked together as cops.
Ty sat at a table behind Arlo and Warren. Two other bouncers from the nightclub were with him.
Tara glided around Ty, looking every bit the angel Jordan believed her to be. Suddenly Tara stopped moving and focused on Warren. Jordan followed her lead and saw what had Tara’s attention.
Warren was using his foot to push a duffel bag from between his legs to the man across from him.
Here it was, the payoff. The drug exchange. Anyone in the place would miss it if they weren’t watching. A casual nodding of heads and the two strangers were up and carrying the duffel out the door.
Ty pulled his gun and aimed it at the two suspects. They were halfway to the door and kept going.
The Longdale cop pulled his gun, too, but not on the suspects. He aimed at Ty. Shot Ty. Once...twice...three times.
Tara stood like a shield in front of her brother. The vision was silent. No voices. No sounds of gunfire. But in that one instant, Jordan could see the plea in Tara’s eyes.
Save my brother.
Chapter 22
“Please God, no! Please, no!” Jordan heard the words, felt them pouring, over and over from her mouth, but she couldn’t quiet them.
“Jordan, it’s okay. I’m here.”
“Ty.”
“No, it’s Bahan.”
Disoriented, she struggled to remember where she was. Tara and the diner were still front and center in her mind. “That’s why Tara took me to the diner,” she whispered.
“What? Damn it, Jordan. What are you saying?”
She turned her head and looked at Bahan. “The drugs,” she said. “It’s going to happen tomorrow. At the Titus Diner. Ty’s going to get shot unless we help him.”
Bahan wasn’t an easy guy to shake up, but Jordan knew she’d managed to do it. His eyes were huge and he was holding his gun. “Jordan, you had a dream. A bad one apparently. You scared the shit out of me screaming like that.” He sat his gun on the nightstand. “Wait here.”
Bahan left the room and returned with two glasses. “Drink this.” He pushed one into her hand and tossed back the other.
Coughing, she choked down the vodka. “Are you trying to kill me? I thought that was water.”
“You need something stronger than water after that dream. So do I. Damn it, you scared the crap out of me, Jordan.”
Scanning the room, she located her jeans and then pulled them on. “It wasn’t just a dream. I mean, it was but... Look, I can’t explain right now, but the drug exchange is going to happen in the diner on Main Street in Titus. I think tomorrow around two. We have to go. We have to be there.”
He pulled her to the bed and sat beside her. “I know sometimes dreams seem very real. But I think—”
“No buts, Bahan. You have to call your people, tell them to be ready.” She took his hands and squeezed tight. “We have enough time to set up everything.” She was familiar with the look he was giving her, the are-you-crazy one. “I know we don’t have much to go on, but I swear this is for real.”
“Are you listening to yourself? I mean really listening? You want me to gather DEA, FBI agents, and police officers for the second day in a row, waste all that manpower again, because you had a dream? I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.”
“I’m not some crazy off the street, Bahan.” She grabbed the sweatshirt she had on earlier. “Don’t treat me like I’ve lost my mind.”
“Jordan, come on. If McGee suspected something else was going to happen, don’t you think he would have said something?”
“He doesn’t suspect anything.” Damn. She didn’t have time for this. Ty’s life was in danger, and Bahan was giving her the third degree. Telling him about the dreams could end their friendship, not to mention their working relationship, if he decided she was nuts.
She covered her eyes with her hand. Was she really going to do this again? Hell, yes. If it was the only way to get backup for Ty, she’d risk anything.
Bahan was still sitting on the bed. She eased down next to him and looked him in the eyes. “I’ve never told you this before, I hoped I’d never have to tell anyone, but sometimes I have dreams. In the dreams are visions. Most of the time it’s visions of a case I’m working on. I can’t explain it, I don’t know why or how it happens, so don’t ask.
“It’s how I knew to look for traces of blood in the garage on the last case. It’s how I tracked down that old warehouse the Angelo brothers killed that girl in, and it’s how I know the drugs are coming into Titus tomorrow. I’ve never asked you to go out on a limb for me like this, but I need your trust. I’m not making it up. I swear to you, I’m not.”
“I need another drink.” He walked out of the room and returned a few seconds later with the entire bottle of vodka. “So...you’re telling me you’re like, what? A witch? Voodoo? Psychic?” He leaned against the door frame.
“No. I don’t stick pins in dolls and put curses on my enemies. See, this is why I don’t tell people.”
“Relax, Broomhilda, I’m just trying to figure out what you’re saying.”
“Ha ha, you’re hysterical. Just forget it.” She pulled her hair back and slipped a rubber band around it. She felt like an idiot. Should have known better than to say anything to him. “Can you at least take me home? I have things I need to do.”
“No. You can’t drop a bomb like ‘I have visions, I have dreams, and then get angry because I need a little explanation. Things are fairly black and white to me.”
He grabbed her wrist as she attempted to push past him. “Are you saying you’re so good at what you do because you’re a psychic?”
“No.” On a flash of anger, she jerked away, but then had second thoughts about letting anger get in the way of Ty’s safety. If Bahan didn’t understand and wouldn’t help her, no one would.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never put a label on it. I think I’d be considered more a medium than a psychic. I can’t read minds or anything, but I see a lot of dead people. It’s not something I do on purpose; it just happens.”
He paced away and ran a hand down the back of his neck. “There are a couple of psychics that contact the bureau from time to time. Some of the guys claim they’ve gotten a pretty good lead from them once or twice. I know people say it happens, but I—”
“Always thought those people were full of it. Yeah, me, too. I guess I still figure a good portion of people who claim some kind of sixth sense are liars. I’ve done my best to suppress it, make it go away. During the day, I’ve pretty much got it licked. But at night, when I’m sleeping, sometimes it comes back with a vengeance.
“This has been happening your whole life?”
“Pretty much.”
“And you’ve never told anyone? Why?”
“Are you serious? You just called me Broomhilda, you idiot. Nothing good has ever come out of me telling anyone about this. Ty was the first person I’ve told in year
s and only because I had no choice.”
He held up both hands. “Back up. What’s McGee have to do with your dreams?”
This was getting complicated. She hesitated, but coming clean with Bahan was the only chance she had, that Ty had. “While I was in Titus, I kept having dreams about a teenage girl. I had no idea who she was, but I kept seeing her murder over and over. Ty had never told me he even had a sister, but when I was at his parents’ house, I saw her picture.”
Bahan stepped back. Squeezed his eyes shut like his head was swimming. “McGee had a sister that was murdered?”
“Yes. Her name was Tara,” Jordan said.
“Let me see if I got this straight. You saw a girl get killed in one of your dreams, but had no idea who the victim was?”
She nodded.
“And McGee had a sister who was murdered, but never mentioned it, even after you two had slept together?”
She nodded again. “It’s hard to explain—”
Bahan held up one finger to stop her. “You really need to work on your communication skills.” He grabbed the vodka bottle and took a healthy swig. “So you saw the guy who killed McGee’s sister? Were you able to arrest him?”
“I don’t know.” Jordan shrugged. She was trying to ignore the lump welling in her throat. “Ty didn’t believe me when I explained how to track the guy down. In fact, he was brutally honest in his reaction. Asked me if I was crazy.” She blinked back the tears, simply refused to cry in front of Bahan. “I haven’t taken any of his calls or returned his texts since.”
“Unbelievable. He’s called me a million times, you know that? I told him to back off. I figured he did some stupid asshole man thing that all of us do, but... Did you give him time to absorb this bombshell?”
She wouldn’t admit it to Bahan, but the answer was no. She was too hurt to give him any time to understand. Now she wondered if maybe it would have made a difference?
Bahan sat her down on the bed. Stared at her as if she were in the interrogation room. “Are you in love with him?”
The tears did come now. She shook her head, refused to answer because she’d never been good at lying to Bahan. “It doesn’t matter. Loving someone doesn’t mean you can accept who they are.”
“I don’t want to play devil’s advocate,” he said, “but I’ve known you for years. We’ve got a long history, so whatever you’re telling me isn’t going to keep me from caring. But it is big. Huge in fact. Did you give McGee a fair shake?”
“I don’t know. I tried to hide the truth and pretend I was normal. But I’m not normal, and I never will be.”
“No arguments here.”
She glared at him.
“Based on the number of times he’s tried to get me to spill information about you, I’m thinking if you asked McGee if he wants normal or he wants you, you’d probably be surprised how quickly he’d jump on a little insanity in his life.”
Jordan tugged on her shoes. “I can’t waste any more time. I’ve got to go. It’s okay if you can’t come with me.”
“Yeah, I’m going to let you go back to Titus alone and play renegade again, since it worked so well for you last time.” He shook his head, then whistled. “We’re really talking about a dream here? How do you know it hasn’t already happened? Or maybe it’s going to happen next week. There’s a lot of money and manpower tied up if you’re wrong, Jordan. Do you know for sure it will happen tomorrow?”
There were no hard and fast rules when it came to dreams. But she knew it hadn’t happened yet. If something had happened to Ty, she’d feel it in every part of her soul. Cowboy would have moved heaven and earth be the one in her dream instead of Tara.
The other side of the coin was that she couldn’t promise the drug exchange was going down tomorrow, but she felt that Tara’s timing was key.
Jordan looked at Bahan trying to decide how to answer. She’d dismissed the dream about her family, and it had cost her everything. She could live with a pissed-off Bahan if she happened to be wrong. But if she was right and didn’t act on it, failing Ty would be the one thing she could never live with.
“Yes, Bahan. I’m positive it’s happening tomorrow. I’m going to Titus with or without you.”
Chapter 23
Jordan pulled in two narcotics detectives she worked closely with, and Bahan was able to roust three FBI buddies who owed him favors. Jordan and Bahan had spent most of the night going over the plan. She went through it with the team as Bahan drove the unmarked van—for the second day in a row—to Titus.
“Two unidentified male suspects will be meeting with Arlo and Warren Buck inside the diner. One will have long, dark hair, sunglasses, blue windbreaker. The other will be blond with a green fatigue jacket.”
“How did you get this information?” asked one of the special agents.
Jordan felt her back go straight, stiffening at the question.
“We got a tip from an agent in deep cover,” Bahan said over his shoulder. “There was mention of a diner, and he thinks these two are the delivery guys for the Delago Cartel. Their clothing may not be the same, but it’s what they were last seen in.”
Jordan turned and met Bahan’s eyes in the mirror, hoping her silent thank you registered loud and clear.
“History tells us Buck will probably have a few guys with him, bouncers from his club. One of those guys will be our inside cop. Tall. Dark, wavy hair. Don’t hurt him,” she added.
Bahan pulled into the town’s twenty-four-hour department store, parked in the back of the lot. “We’re going to take a few minutes, pull our undercover look together. Be right back.”
Jordan hopped out of the van with the spray she needed to gray Bahan’s hair. “You’re going to need to bend down—”
“Hey,” he said, “you can’t keep up this pace. Slow down. Take a breath.”
“I can’t slow down. If I do, I’ll lose it. I can’t lose it; Ty’s life is at stake.”
“You’ve got to relax a little, or you’ll be too wiped out to get this done. You did a good job pulling it all together at the last minute.”
“We did a good job.” She hugged him, then stepped back. “I couldn’t have done any of it without you. You’re indulging me on something you don’t believe in, I get that, and yet you’re still standing behind me. I won’t ever forget it.”
“Fuck it,” he said. “If you can’t do something crazy with guns and drug dealers once in a while, what’s the point, right?”
She shook her head at him and laughed. Bahan was right, the tension inside her was coiled so tightly, it felt like the first real breath she’d taken in hours.
All the humor quickly left his face, he propped his hands on his hips. “I don’t think either one of us is going to forget this night, Jordan. But I still have one reservation. If McGee’s life is in danger, we should give him a heads-up. If it were me, I’d want to know.”
Jordan shook her head adamantly. “You’d want to know so you could change things, do something different, alter what you’d normally do. If Ty does that, it might not go down like I’m anticipating.
“Right now, I know I can take out the crooked Longdale cop. I don’t want to risk Ty by doing anything different to mess it up. If he hesitates or acts too early or gives himself away, it could get more dangerous. I say we go with the plan just the way it is.”
Jordan tucked her hair under a curly gray wig and put on some old lady make-up and clothes. She grayed Bahan’s hair and forced him to wear the pants and jacket she’d picked out. She gave him some old-man glasses and was pretty damn happy with the result. She aged them both by at least thirty years.
When the team was in position and they were ready to proceed, Bahan went into the diner ahead of her and picked out a booth.
She walked in a minute later and looked up. Twinkling Christmas lights, a Santa banner, and the neon clock that read 1:36 hit her full force. She stopped abruptly.
Bahan caught her attention and motioned her over with an angry wave. �
��What the heck are you doing? Trying to get noticed?”
“No. Sorry.”
They settled and the waiting game began. A waitress filled their coffee cups. They ordered, slowly. Poked at the food that came, slowly.
“This is incredibly nerve-racking,” Jordan mumbled. “I don’t know how you can eat. I feel like I could throw up.”
“If we both go into a diner, order food, and don’t bother to eat, someone may wonder what the hell we’re doing here. So take a bite, will you?”
Attempting to ease the thundering in her head, she rubbed at her temples. Maybe she was wrong. About the day? About the time? Her dreams were never wrong, but maybe she’d confused things because of her feelings for Ty?
Christ, her feelings for Ty. They were stronger now than they’d ever been. What if Bahan was right? What if she’d endangered Ty, because she didn’t warn him? A huge lump swelled in her throat, and her heart tumbled right over itself.
“Yo.” Bahan snapped his fingers close to her face. “Don’t do that. Do not space out on me.” His voice was soft and controlled, but it held the dangerous warning she needed to get her head back on straight.
She nodded, channeled the Ice Bitch again and put the fear behind her. She was not wrong. Everything inside her said this was going down today.
The bell on the door chimed. Someone entered. Bahan said nothing, but gave her the nod. Barely shifting, she watched the Longdale cop with blond, spiky hair walk up to the counter and sit on a stool.
“We got a bird in that nest out behind the house.” Bahan used the code sentence.
It was less than five minutes before the bell chimed again. The stunned look on Bahan’s face told Jordan she’d gotten the details correct. She didn’t bother to turn. Didn’t need to.
“We got eggs in the nest, too.” Bahan said for the benefit of the wire. “Six for sure,” he said, indicating the number of suspects with guns. “Maybe as many as seven.”
She listened to the sounds of people settling in, calculated the best moment to risk a glance. When she did, she realized she hadn’t just gotten most of it right, she’d nailed every last damn detail down to the color of clothing they wore and the seats they chose.
Dream Huntress Page 24