Chase

by Sidney Bristol

  “No. We’ve had a bunch of bodies wash up. First ones were already released to the families, but they had similar markings on them.” Matt pulled on gloves and led them to the first body, nearest the door. He gestured to little sores all up and down the man’s arms.

  “Meth,” Gabriel said.

  “Yes, but . . .” Matt picked up the corpse’s hand and showed them the fingers.

  “There’s no fingerprints.” She reached out and swiped her finger over the dead man’s digit.

  “Nope. Burned off postmortem. The bodies from last night have the same cocktail of meth in their systems and their fingerprints have been removed.” Matt walked to the back of the freezer and gestured to a badly mangled body. “I was able to ID this one. You aren’t going to like it.”

  “Lay it on me.” Gabriel held his breath.

  “Andrew Rivas.”

  “Fuck me.” Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Why is that bad?” Nikki asked.

  “It’s Hillary’s brother.”

  “Hillary? I’m guessing that was the other car from this morning?” Matt asked.

  “Yeah.” Gabriel’s lungs burned from lack of oxygen, so he breathed through his mouth. “We think they were running the drugs for the Cubans. They’ve been beefing up their distribution since Evers has gone MIA.”

  “That would make sense, actually.” Matt gestured at the door, and Gabriel couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  “What else do we know? What does this mean for us?” Nikki seemed distracted, which wasn’t like her.

  “That’s about it,” Matt replied.

  “Was anything recovered off the bodies?” Gabriel asked.

  “Not a lot.”

  “Can I look it over?”

  “Sure.” Matt shrugged.

  “Do you need me? Or can I make a phone call real quick?” Nikki asked.

  “Honestly, there isn’t much to see,” Matt said.

  “I’ll meet you at the car?” Before Gabriel had finished speaking, Nikki was headed for the doors.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nikki retreated from the building, out into the bright sunshine. She pressed her second speed-dial number and pressed the phone to her ear. What did it say about her that her boss was her first speed dial and her father second?

  “Hello, Nikki, your father’s finishing something up.” The cheerful voice of her father’s secretary wasn’t unexpected. It was rare that he answered his own cell phone even at the office.

  She listened to the sounds of papers shuffling and muted voices for a few moments. She glanced back at the doors to the building, but Gabriel hadn’t followed her.

  “How’s Florida?” Her father had a pleasant, easygoing disposition that disarmed most people. Which was their mistake.

  “It’s hot.”

  “That bad?”

  “Yeah, but I think we’ve got some leads to work with.”

  “Anyone get hurt in that explosion?”

  “You heard about that?”

  “You landed yourself in a hot mess down there. I didn’t want to step in after the decisions were made, but I wouldn’t have put you with that team.”

  She smiled. “Is it because of Gabe, Dad?”

  “Not entirely. Their operation is . . . complicated.”

  She held her tongue. Now wasn’t the time to press for answers. Her father knew more than he was letting on.

  “Do you have time to talk?” She crossed one arm across her chest and drew in a deep, calming breath.

  “About ten minutes.”

  “Gabe told me he loves me. In Spanish. He doesn’t know I understood him.” She began to pace the length of the Skyline. This was a conversation most girls would have with their mothers, but hers wasn’t a great source on the subject. Not that her father was, either, but he had more feeling.

  “You never got over him.” Not a question, a simple truth.

  “Wrap up the case. Then worry about the rest of it. I’d imagine any man you would fall in love with would also understand your sense of duty. Everything I’ve heard about Gabriel tells me he’s a man who will land on his feet wherever he ends up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Maybe I’ll meet him this time?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Get back to work. Worry about the rest of it when the bad guys are in prison.”

  She hung up, feeling a little less desperate.

  Gabriel loved her.

  That fact still made her insides go warm and mushy. Of course she’d felt strongly for him before. They’d made plans together, but they hadn’t said those words. At least not yet. She’d been waiting for them, unsure how she would say them back—and it never happened.

  How would she tell him she loved him in return?

  Could she say it?

  Words had never been intimidating, but those three little ones stacked together were so profound. They symbolized her vulnerability, her hopes, everything she’d wanted for them to be, packed in a tight little sentence.

  Part of her wanted to wait until this operation was wrapped up and they could maybe take a little time off. But the hard truth was that they didn’t know if they’d survive. They’d had three close calls in less than twenty-four hours. It was a lot to handle.

  But should she tell him? Their lives were separate. One of them would have to give up everything for the other. She didn’t want to ask him to leave Miami, and yet she knew deep down she couldn’t leave the FBI. Not yet. Not until there was something better to go to. Someplace where she could do more good. Gabriel would understand that. It was their dream. The vision they’d shared and bonded over.

  Maybe she shouldn’t tell him. Not yet, at least.

  A message from Emery waited for her.

  No leads from A/R or J/J. Got a couple #s for NicoSilva. Medical discharge, lost a leg. Explosivesbadass. Baby mama/daughter missing.

  There were three numbers, with no other information. What was the best course of action? How should they approach this lead?

  She glanced toward the morgue doors and bit her lip. This was her case, but from the moment she got here she’d shared the responsibility with Gabriel. She swiped the text off the screen and tapped her phone, dialing Gabriel’s number from memory.

  The line barely rang.

  “I’m coming to you.”

  “I’ve got three possible numbers for Nico. Emery just sent them over. Also, it looks like his kid and her mother are missing.”

  “Did you call the numbers?”

  “No, I thought we should consider how we want to approach this. There’s no telling if these numbers are even good. We can’t just call him and say we’re the FBI, we want you to cooperate.”

  The double doors to the morgue opened and Gabriel strode toward her. Nikki’s heart did a somersault in her chest. His body language, the way he walked and carried himself, inspired confidence when hers was lagging. He hung up the line and slowed to a stop.

  “Think the kid factors in?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Give me a number,” he said.

  She read the first number to him.

  “What are you going to say?” she asked.

  “Depends on if he answers the phone.” They stood there in silence for a few moments. Gabriel shook his head. “Invalid number. Next.”

  “Seriously, what are you going to say?” She tamped down on the anxious excitement and read off the second number. It was probably a long shot to hope they’d get the man on the phone, but they could give it a whirl.

  “It’ll come to me.”

  “Gabe.”

  “I don’t know yet. It depends on how he answers the phone—if he answers.” He pressed the phone to his ear. “That one’s not working either. Next.”

  The moments dragged on as she waited. One side of Gabriel’s mouth hiked up.

  Was it ringing?

  “Not picking up,” he muttered. “Voice mail . . . Hi, Nico, this is Bobby. I’m a friend of David Swiss
. He gave me your number and said we should chat. Hit me up.”

  “Was that him?” Nikki asked.

  “Not sure. It was one of those automated voice mails. Come on. Let’s go.” Gabriel opened the passenger door for her.

  She wanted more answers, but what else was there to say? The man hadn’t answered the phone. They were exactly where they’d been before the calls were made.

  He strode around the front of the car, pausing near the driver’s side. She peered through the window at him as he stared at his phone. He tapped the screen and held it to his ear while he sank into the driver’s seat.

  “Hello?” Gabriel started the car, jabbing at the Aux buttons.

  “Bluetooth enabled,” the car computer announced.

  “I don’t know a David Swiss.” The man’s voice was suspicious, and rightly so. By now all of Wilson’s people probably thought David was dead.

  “David knew about you.”

  “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “Is your name Nico Silva?” Gabriel asked.

  “Who wants to know?”

  Gabriel glanced at her. “I’m a federal agent.”

  “This conversation never happened,” Nico said.

  “I guess you don’t want help finding your daughter, then?”

  Silence.

  “You can’t help me.” Nico’s voice was just as cold and hard as when he answered. But he’d hesitated.

  “Maybe we can. Meet with us. Let me show you that you can trust us.”

  “No.”

  Nico hung up.

  “Shit.” Gabriel dropped the phone into the cradle mounted on the dash. “Text Emery. Find out what happened to that kid. He thought about it. That means something is up.”

  Manipulated veterans. Strung-out fanatics. And now a missing kid. Could the case get any more convoluted?

  “What next?” She typed out the request to Emery and sent it off, bobbing her knee.

  “Hillary. She might be our way to find these guys.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Back to Little Havana. Several of Hillary’s sponsors are local businesses. I bet she runs drugs for them. Her brother Jesse owns a garage over there. Does a lot of lowrider cars.”

  “You sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Jesse is the smart one. He won’t want to start something with us.”

  “Okay.”

  The stereo muted and the phone rang.

  “Bueno?” Gabriel said as the call activated.

  “I have to make a pickup in Coral Gables. Can you be there in twenty minutes?”

  It was Nico.

  “I can be there sooner than that,” Gabriel replied.

  “Don’t be. They drop me off at the entrance to the storage unit there off 976 and Twenty-ninth. Circle around to the Quick Mart while I pick up what I need. They usually leave me for maybe ten minutes. Don’t be early.”

  The line cut off.

  Gabriel executed a U-turn and accelerated, heading south instead of west.

  “What changed his mind?” Nikki asked.

  “There’s something going on with the kid.”

  “Or . . . it could be a trap.”

  * * *

  Gabriel barely blinked. The silent tension in the car was thicker than the Miami humidity. From their position across the street from the storage facility, they could see the two main points of entry. The gas station was down the street and around a corner.

  Now they just had to wait and see if this was a trap.

  “How much time?” he asked. They’d arrived with eight minutes to spare.

  “Any second now. How will we be able to tell it’s him?”

  “Wait for a car to pull in, then leave?” He shrugged. “You know, this probably means that wherever Nico was, it’s close. Ten minutes this time of day won’t get you far.”

  “What if they were in the area?”

  “If that’s what you want to believe.”

  “I’m just pointing things out. It does give us a grid to search.”

  A large pickup truck pulled into the storage facility. He heard Nikki draw in a breath.

  They waited.

  Gabriel turned around, checking down the alley behind them, but it was clear.

  The Bluetooth rang through the speakers.

  Gabriel clicked the answer button on the steering wheel.

  “You there?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What unit?”

  “4315. Don’t be seen.”

  “This isn’t our first rodeo.”

  Nico hung up on them.

  As much as Gabriel wanted to run in there, he waited. The pickup truck emerged and turned toward the gas station. He held his position until the vehicle ambled around the corner, out of sight.

  He gassed it, shooting across four lanes of traffic and into the storage facility. They bypassed the first three rows and turned down the fourth. Partway down, a rolling door was raised about a foot. The number painted above it was 4315.

  Gabriel shifted the car into park.

  “Stay here for a second.” He released the seat belt.

  “Gabe—”

  “If you were a dude, I’d still say we shouldn’t both walk in there, so please. He’s spoken to me. He’s expecting me. If it’s not a trap, you come, too. Leave the car running.”

  “Fine.”

  “Is that a woman fine, or a fine fine?”

  “Gabriel, go. Stop wasting time.” Nikki rolled her eyes.

  “Then it was a fine.” He got out of the car and drew his handgun. There was nothing to trust about this Nico. He approached the partially open door from the side. “Nico?”

  “Open the door, slowly.”

  Gabriel used his toe and nudged the rolling gate upward, holding his breath. He grabbed it with his left hand and lifted it the rest of the way, gun trained on the man with a shotgun in hand.

  “Is that any way to say hello to your new friend?” Gabriel asked.

  “You aren’t a Fed. Who are you?” Nico had a white-knuckle grip on the gun.

  “Easy.” Gabriel held up his firearm. Nico was scared. A glance told Gabriel Nico was no joke. His hard exterior was genuine, forged in trials of blood. And he was scared.

  “Who. Are. You?”

  “I’m the Fed.” Nikki stepped around Gabriel, unarmed saved for her credentials. “Special Agent Nikki Gage.”

  “Gage?” Nico’s brows drew down and he gestured for the badge.

  Nikki tossed the slim wallet at him and backed up.

  Nico stared at the document long enough for sweat to begin beading on Gabriel’s brow.

  “Why does Gage sound familiar?” Nico asked.

  “My father is Deputy Director Gage.”

  “Shit.” Nico slapped the wallet down on a set of low shelves and turned, pointing the shotgun at the ground.

  Gabriel drew an easier breath and stepped in front of Nikki.

  “So we talking or you done?” he asked.

  “You’re the real deal?” Nico turned abruptly, but didn’t lift his gun.

  “Yes, we’re the real deal,” Nikki replied.

  “What about him?” Nico nodded toward Gabriel. “He’s a street racer. His crew deals drugs.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Gabriel replied.

  “I have to worry about all of this, don’t you get it?” The tendons on either side of Nico’s neck stood out. The man was operating with a hair trigger.

  “Ever heard of a thing called undercover work?” Gabriel asked.

  “Fine. Okay. So, what did you want to talk about?” Nico set the shotgun down on one of the long metal shelves that filled the storage unit. Boxes, bottles, and large barrels filled of God only knew what.

  “Why’d you agree to meet with us?” Nikki asked.

  Nico shrugged.

  “Anything to do with Wilson having your daughter?” Gabriel asked.

  Nico flinched and glared at Gabriel. “How do you know that?”
<
br />   “I didn’t,” Gabriel replied.

  “He has her? And her mother?” Nikki asked.

  “Yeah.” Nico stared off in the distance, as if he were somewhere else.

  “Why?” Nikki asked.

  “Because I said no when he offered me a job. So he made sure I couldn’t refuse the offer again.” Nico’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “We want to stop Wilson. We could use someone like you to help us,” Nikki said.

  Nico shook his head. “I help you, they kill her. No.”

  “What if we could get your daughter?” Gabriel asked.

  Nico paused. His gaze sliced toward Gabriel. “Her name is Becky. Her mother is Sarah. She’s only eight.”

  “Can you tell us anything about where they’re holding Becky and her mom?” Nikki asked.

  “Yeah. There’s a few others with them. Wilson has about six of us he’s blackmailed into this shit storm he’s created. They’ve all got someone there. He calls whoever is holding them once a day, and one of us gets to talk to our family. There’s two women that answer. Hillary and Isabella.”

  “Shit,” Gabriel muttered. Hillary. Again.

  “What can you tell us about the people Wilson has working for him? What his plans are?”

  Nico held up his hand. “You get Becky, I’ll answer all your fucking questions. Time’s up. You gotta go. They’re going to come back soon.”

  Gabriel nodded. It wasn’t the time to press their luck.

  “Come on,” he said to Nikki. “We’ll be in touch, Nico.”

  Nico waved and started grabbing things off the shelves at a furious pace. Gabriel hated climbing back into the Skyline, leaving Nico to collect the materials to create some monstrosity. Wilson was willing to blackmail Nico to get use of his abilities. There were any number of guys these days who could Google and become self-taught bomb makers. But that wasn’t what Wilson wanted. Whatever the plan was, they needed someone with skills far beyond that of a common explosives junkie. Leaving Nico there went against Gabriel’s gut instinct. What other option did they have?

  They got out of the storage facility via a back entry, dialing Emery as they made their exit.

  “What?” Emery snapped.

  “Trouble?” Gabriel asked.

  “Everyone wants something. I can’t do it all.”