“Let’s hope we never find out.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Fifteen. Two for a pair.” Becca’s eyes lit up, and she moved her peg forward in the cribbage board. Sloan looked at the cards in her hand and knew she was going to get thrashed, but if it put a smile on Becca’s face it was worth it.
Agent Curtis had gone to grab some lunch, and also talk to her boss to finalize arrangements on the safe house and protective custody detail for someone who’d been legally declared dead. Tonight if possible. Sloan wanted Becca out of this hospital before the news broke about them having a living witness. She’d tried to call Randall again, but the agent wasn’t picking up.
The FBI might use the information to set a trap in the hospital, but that was a risk. Whatever they chose to do, Becca didn’t need to be here.
“You might be leaving here soon.” Sloan broached the subject and laid down a seven. “Twenty-two.”
Becca put down a nine, but her smile had slipped. “Thirty-one.”
“You’re good at this,” Sloan told the kid as she moved her peg again. Sloan would be lucky not to get skunked.
“I used to play with my mom.”
The quiet admission was the perfect introduction to another subject Sloan needed to bring up. “Agent Randall is out searching for your mom.”
The flare of panic in Becca’s eyes suggested the kid wasn’t thrilled with the idea of reuniting with her.
“We won’t send you back, sweetheart. Your mom committed some serious offenses against you.”
“I don’t want her to go to jail.”
Sloan put her hand over Becca’s and squeezed. “That’s not your decision to make. She has to face the consequences of her actions. And we need to find your little brother. To make sure he’s being looked after properly.”
Big blue eyes met hers. “You think I could be with him again?”
“Possibly, but I don’t know for sure.” Sloan didn’t want to get Becca’s hopes up.
The door handle turned, and two doctors Sloan didn’t recognize walked in. But Becca did. The cards went everywhere as the girl threw herself off the bed and ran to the window.
Sloan went for her weapon, but she was too slow. Fuck. The taller man had a 9-mm pressed against her temple.
“I think you’ve been looking for us, FBI Agent Sloan. We decided to make it easier for you.” His English was very good, barely an accent.
The other guy walked over to where Becca stood trembling by the window. He thrust a plastic bag at her. “Put these on.” His English was much more guttural.
Becca didn’t move, and the man slapped her on the head. “Do it.”
“Leave her alone,” Sloan bit out.
The gun pressed harder into her temple as her arm was ruthlessly forced up her back. Even if she managed to disarm this guy, the other was too close to Becca for her to prevent the girl from being hurt.
The kid’s eyes were wide as silver dollars as she stumbled and then frantically tore into the bag, pulling out clothes.
Sloan had made a critical error. Early on, she and Randall had decided that too much security would draw attention to the fact Becca was here and put her at higher risk of being spotted. They’d opted for less security and therefore less attention, but somehow the bad guys had figured it out. Had they followed her? The idea was intolerable.
Or had Trainer told the team about Becca without upping security here first?
What did it matter?
Her heart was beating madly as her brain whirled trying to figure out what the hell she should do. There was no doubt they’d kill the thirteen-year-old if Sloan fought back—the teen was the primary witness in the case against them. The bigger question was, why weren’t she and Becca already dead?
The guy retrieved her Glock out of her side holster. The loss made her feel physically ill.
“Don’t do anything stupid. I just want information.”
“Is that what you told the woman in the hotel?”
He actually laughed. “An unfortunate error.”
Sloan blinked at his callousness. His lack of feeling suggested she was dealing with a psychopath, but they had their traits and weaknesses too. Namely their huge love of themselves. “If you leave Becca alone I’ll help you leave the country without anyone knowing.”
He shook his head. “Just do as I say, and she won’t get hurt.”
Her mouth went dry. What the hell choice did she have? “Fine. What do you want?”
“We’re going to walk out of here, quickly and quietly. My friend Cho over there will put a bullet in little Rosie if you do anything to call attention to us.”
“Her name’s Becca,” Sloan hissed.
He leaned closer. “Her name is whatever the fuck I want it to be. She will die by a bullet to the brain if you give us away. Understand?” He grabbed her hair and twisted her face to look at him.
She’d seen evil before and recognized it now. She nodded, wishing she could risk some move. If it had just been her she’d have gone down fighting, but the idea of them hurting Becca again…
But they’d hurt her at some point.
God, she felt so useless. All her training and still, she’d been caught completely unprepared.
Where were they taking them? Why not shoot them both here? Were they scared of making a scene and drawing security? They hadn’t given a damn when they’d shot Ray Tan dead in the street.
He pushed her toward the door, let her arm down, and put his hand in his pocket, clearly with his finger on the trigger. Cho held Becca’s hand in a grip that had to hurt.
“No theatrics, or you both die along with anyone else I come across on my way out the door. We go to your car, and we drive away without anyone getting hurt.”
She nodded jerkily. It wouldn’t be long until ATF realized they were missing and picked up their trail. If she could keep them both alive in the meantime they had a fighting chance.
* * *
Lucas watched Ashley lie down on the bed and raise her hands over her head. He tried not to notice the red marks on her wrists. Even though she was being obedient and pliable, the idea of her being weak or submissive was laughable.
If what she was saying about her uncle was true, the guy was a monster, and she’d shown incredible bravery escaping him. But it could be a lie. Intricate and compelling, but a lie nevertheless. She’d already admitted to being good at those.
“Why did you sleep with me?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“I didn’t sleep with you. We fucked.” The icy expression on her face tried to warn him off, but with a start he realized he knew her better than that. He’d seen her soft underbelly when she’d tracked Agata Maroulis’s every move, and when she’d pressed her jacket to the gaping hole in Ray Tan’s chest even though he could destroy her. Why would she do that if she was really working for her uncle?
Alex’s theory about her working for the Chinese didn’t make much sense either when she had no affiliation with anyone there.
“Don’t mention it again in case my uncle finds out.” Her voice dripped icicles.
His lip curved even though he should know better. “Why? Worried about me?”
Her nostrils flared.
He fastened one metal bracelet around her wrist. Then he leaned over her to secure the other, but he paused, his mouth hovering over hers. He clicked the handcuff shut, but not as tight as it had been. Then he brushed his mouth gently over hers.
“Please. Don’t.” Her ragged whisper against his lips brought him back to the reality of their situation.
He pulled back, shocked to see tears brimming in her eyes. He jerked away from the bed and dragged his hand through his hair. “Jesus, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Christ.”
Her hair spilled like black silk on the pillow. “You can’t dismiss my warnings about what my uncle will do to you if he finds out we slept together. I know you don’t believe me, but I watched a young man die for that. He was viciously murdere
d right in front of my eyes.” Her words were thickened by emotion, but the tears never spilled over. “I’m not joking when I say you need to get far away from me and keep quiet about the fact—”
“About the fact that from the moment we met we were attracted to one another? That working with you was hell because no matter how important the case, I couldn’t stop thinking about how good you tasted?”
“It was just sex,” she insisted.
“It wasn’t just sex, Ash. If it was just sex I wouldn’t be fascinated by your beauty or intrigued by how goddamned smart you are.”
“It’s just an Asian fetish—”
“I don’t have an Asian fetish!” He was shouting again, and that sucked when the woman he was arguing with was already vulnerable. Suddenly the idea that she was guilty of anything except secretly changing her identity seemed remote.
Christ.
This had been a huge mistake. He should just have arrested her, but then he’d never have gotten to talk to her in private again. And he’d needed to hear her explanation from her own lips. The trouble was, her story rang horrifyingly true. Alex would be verifying as many details as he could so they could figure out what to do next. Lucas’s phone buzzed, and he checked the screen. Sloan had texted him that she’d been removed from the task force, and he’d need to report in to SSA Greg Trainer.
He scrubbed his hands through his hair. More good news. Trainer had been in his office in San Antonio. A rule-bound prick who was gonna go far in the Bureau.
He didn’t reply to Sloan. Anything he said would compound the lies he’d already told. He went to the window and looked outside. The overcast sky and freezing wind matched his mood.
After a few moments, he spoke. “I’m not scared of your uncle, Ash. I’m taking that sonofabitch down and dismantling the rest of his empire one brothel and gambling den at a time.”
“You should be scared of him. He’s a monster.”
Lucas sat next to her on the bed and moved her hair gently off her forehead. “He’s a bully.”
“A bully with a private army,” she argued.
“I’m not scared of a bully, no matter how many hired guns he has. My job is to capture people like him and put them away so they can’t hurt others. It’s what we uptight, know-it-all feebs do.” He gave a soft laugh that wasn’t even close to being amused. “In fact, the only thing I’m scared of is you—that you might be lying and that I’m foolish enough to fall for it. Or worse—that I hurt and terrorized an innocent woman. I’m not sure I could forgive myself if that’s the case.”
“I’m not sure I can forgive you either.” She turned away.
Alex came to the doorway and rapped on it loudly. “We’ve got a problem.”
He led Lucas outside, and they walked down to the beach. When they got to the edge of the surf, Alex finally spoke. “I called an old contact from my Agency days.”
Alex didn’t often admit to having worked for the CIA, and Lucas was surprised he’d done so now.
“He knew Frank Pratsky, and I asked the guy about his family and home life. Her story checks out from that angle. As far as the world knew, Ashley Chen was his niece via his long-term partner, Merry Beauchamp.”
“What about Ashley’s laptop and cell? Any hint of communications between her and the Dragon Devils?”
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, her laptop isn’t squeaky clean, and she’s really good at covering her tracks. I do see evidence of her doing some computer pen tests of her own.”
Lucas blinked. Was that Alex’s subtle way of saying she was a hacker?
“But everything I’ve tracked relates to cases she worked on—a lot of which she helped solve, or old ones she’s still investigating. There is a file on the Dragon Devils.”
Lucas tensed.
“But she hasn’t added to it in several years.” Alex paced. “Her cell phone is clean, and I didn’t find any burner in her belongings. Financially she’s solvent. She sailed through her degree at an accelerated pace and on a full scholarship. She has expensive tastes in clothes, but she’s always had a good job and lived within her means. Both her aunt and Pratsky left her everything they owned, so she has a healthy 401K.”
“So she doesn’t need the money.”
Alex looked up at the churning clouds. “I don’t doubt she has a backup plan for changing her identity and escaping her uncle, and probably the FBI, too. But if I was in her position, so would I.” He stopped pacing. “Lucas, I think she might be telling the truth.”
It was one thing for him to believe her, but Alex had been suspicious right from the start. If he was having doubts… “So, you’re saying we abducted and confined a woman who’s already gone through hell?” His teeth felt like they’d been welded together.
“Pretty much.” Alex didn’t look happy about it either. “Better us figuring this out than Sloan—”
“Sloan just got replaced,” Lucas told Alex. “Task force leader is now a guy named Greg Trainer.”
“What do we know about him?”
“Blue flamer. Brown noser. Rule follower. He gets results, but he’s an obnoxious prick.”
“Great.” Alex grinned. “I just spoke to Mal. She’s fine.” You’d never have known the guy had been unglued by worry just a short time earlier. They stared down the beach toward a woman walking her dog. “I put two of my firm’s men on her from the airport, but if she finds that out, she’ll kill me. She’s already bitching about the detail Frazer put on her.” He glanced at Lucas. “I also sent a guy to the hospital to watch out for the little girl.”
Emotion swelled in Lucas’s throat. He nodded. Sloan said he needed to get back to Boston and help protect Becca until they could get her into a safe house. If Trainer was going to do a big team reveal—like Becca was some show and fucking tell—then he needed to get moving.
“What do you want to do with Ashley?” Alex asked.
“Let her go.” And pray she got as far away from the Dragon Devils as possible.
“What about the fact you’ve fallen in love with her?”
The lump in Lucas’s throat kept growing, but he didn’t deny it. Maybe he hadn’t known the first moment he’d seen her, but his feelings had grown slowly and only solidified the more time he’d spent in her company—and that was despite the lies she’d told.
“I need her to be safe.” Running was the best chance she had of staying alive, even though the thought of never seeing her again was like a punch in the gut.
“The only other person who knows about this dead niece is the Hong Kong detective?”
“Plus the Dragon Devils themselves.”
They began walking back up the beach.
“Any chance they’ll keep the information to themselves?”
“Sure,” Lucas felt his heart turning black. “As long as they’re all dead.”
The only noise that followed them up the beach was the scream of gulls.
* * *
Sloan had a clear view of the front door.
She was tied up to one of the new dining room chairs she and Brian had bought themselves for Christmas. The expensive wormy maple matched the live-edge table they’d also purchased. But no matter how nice the setting was, they still never made it home in time to eat together.
Every late night, every heated argument or stilted conversation screamed inside her head. Why had she neglected him so badly? Why had she always put his needs second to her own?
Please, God, let him be safe. It was a Tuesday, and he usually went to the gym on Tuesday nights, but these guys didn’t know that. Had he been told she was missing yet? If he had, there was a good chance he’d stay at the office to be closer to the mayor, and the FBI, if and when they found her. He often slept there anyway.
Don’t come home.
Cho was watching Becca with a hungry expression on his ugly face. They’d gagged her because she’d started screaming at one point and wouldn’t stop. Sloan had tried to show the girl some strength, but it was hard from a
position of weakness. To think that this was what Becca had been enduring for years—this psychological and physical abuse. The FBI had failed to keep her safe. They’d failed to appreciate the danger.
The other guy, Mr. Psychopath, was lounging on an ottoman that had belonged to her parents, drinking Brian’s fancy single malt. He had a bandage wrapped around his bicep—from Ashley Chen’s bullet when he’d gunned down Ray Tan on the street? Maybe. She didn’t know.
He was good-looking and vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Pity he was evil personified.
They’d first made her drive to a warehouse in Southie, but then had taken a different car and driven to her home in the ’burbs.
She trembled. It made a crazy kind of sense. No one was going to look for them at the home of the former task force leader. On the positive side, the longer they delayed here, the more chance the feds had of catching up with them. She knew some pretty talented negotiators who might be able to talk them out of this alive. And if that failed, they had some of the best marksmen in the world. She’d be quite happy to take a bullet if it meant these two asswipes died and Becca lived.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked.
Mr. Psycho smirked at her. “I want to know where Agent Chen is.”
Her head jerked up at that. What the hell? And then she realized that was why he looked familiar. He looked like Chen.
Was that a coincidence? Or were they related?
His cell phone rang before she could ask him. She listened hard to this side of the conversation trying to glean clues. He was placating the other person, telling him it had gone down without a hitch and not to worry. He perked up at one point, sitting upright and grinning.
He was making details for their departure, she realized suddenly. She had the horrible feeling she wouldn’t live long enough to say goodbye.
Why not just shoot her? Why tie her up? Why wait it out in her fucking house?
I’m going to make it up to you, Brian. Just stay far away.
She thought her prayers were working, right up until she heard his key in the front door.
Cold Secrets (Cold Justice Book 7) Page 26