“Of course,” she said, her reply mingling with Luke’s “copy that.” The group began to disband, with Isabella talking in low tones to Kellan and Luke giving up a quick, “be right back,” as he took a few steps toward Gamble. Shae appeared in front of Quinn, not hesitating a microsecond before grabbing her into a fierce hug.
“Jesus, girl! That’s why you’ve been off rotation so much for the last week and a half? You were kidnapped and threatened at gunpoint by some psycho?”
“Yeah.” Quinn disentangled herself from her friend’s grasp, torn between fear at the reminder and relief that finally, she didn’t have to hide the truth anymore.
Shae shook her head, her disheveled ponytail bouncing off one shoulder. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything.”
“The case has been…” Right. There was no good way to finish that sentence, so Quinn went with, “Sinclair wanted to be really careful not to tip Ice off.”
Shae waved a hand through the air. “Oh, the safety part, I get. After what happened with me and Capelli and that hacker-stalker-wingnut Vaughn a few months ago, I trust the intelligence unit a billion percent. But I had the support of everyone around me then. I just hate that you had to go through this alone.”
“I wasn’t alone.” Quinn glanced at Luke, who was talking quietly to Gamble and Dempsey a handful of feet away. Her heart squeezed, but God, the feeling was frighteningly good. “I had Luke.”
Shae followed her gaze, her smile surprisingly sweet. “I’m glad.” She squeezed Quinn’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper, “But when all of this is said and done and this jackass Ice is rotting in jail, I am so feeding you margaritas until you dish on the rookie.”
Quinn should’ve known her friend’s devious streak wouldn’t stay at bay for more than a second or two. “Let’s get there first, okay?”
“Mmm. ’Til then, call me if you need anything.” Shae hugged her one more time for good measure.
“Please stay safe,” Quinn said. They might’ve stopped Ice today, but if he tried again…
Shae surprised her by letting out a long laugh. “Something tells me Capelli isn’t going to let me out of his sight anytime soon. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
She winked, turning on her boot heels to head for the front of the vehicle. The rest of A-shift followed, giving Quinn various shoulder pats and we’ve-got-your-back chin lifts as they filed out. Everyone in the intelligence unit remained inside the command post with her and Luke and Captain Bridges, and Sinclair didn’t waste any time diving in.
“We’re going to need to put the two of you under around-the-clock surveillance for at least the next day or so. It’s not the same thing as protective custody,” he added quickly. “You can stay at your own apartments, and you’re not on total lockdown. But you won’t be able to go anywhere without a police escort and your check-ins will be frequent and mandatory. In light of the bomb threat, the constant eyes-on is a necessary precaution until we can zero in on Ice’s location and make an arrest.”
“Agreed,” Bridges said with a nod, and Luke’s brows went up, seconding Quinn’s surprise.
“And no one else needs that kind of protection?” he asked.
“Everyone needs to be vigilant,” Sinclair said, both Isabella and Maxwell’s nods confirming the statement. “We’re all on heightened alert, and Capelli will arrange for both check-ins and more frequent patrols for your family after they’ve been briefed. But we’re about to launch a man hunt for Ice that he wasn’t expecting, and he’s not stupid. We want to make sure he doesn’t try to retaliate before we can take him down. I know he threatened your loved ones”—Sinclair’s voice dropped low enough to send goose bumps over Quinn’s arms even though the interior of the command vehicle was plenty warm—“but at this point we have to consider the two of you his primary targets.”
Slowly, Quinn nodded. She was far from in love with the idea of having a perma-shadow—God, she was on edge enough as it was. She was pretty fond of the whole living-and-breathing thing, though, and anyway, she trusted Sinclair. “Okay.”
Luke nodded in agreement, then asked, “While we’re busy laying low, what’s next for the investigation?”
The detectives volleyballed a secret-code glance around the command post, and eventually, it landed on Sinclair. “Officially, I can’t disclose any details pertaining to your case. Unofficially…”
He looked at Garza, who answered with a jerk of his darkly stubbled chin. “One of the guys from the gang unit just heard from an informant connected to the Scarlet Reapers that this arms deal is going down on Saturday night. I can’t substantiate this yet, but he says the seller is Brady Sorenson.”
“Whoa.” Hollister’s shoulder blades smacked against the back of his chair. “The Brady Sorenson? As in, the guy who supplies weapons to more than half the cartels in Miami?”
“Along with most of the gangs in Jacksonville and Atlanta,” Garza agreed, the look on his face making Quinn wonder if this could possibly get any worse. “His reach is huge. Word is, he’s looking to keep branching out, and Ice is his guy.”
“Not anymore,” grated Sinclair. “What’ve we got from the foot patrols and city cams?”
Isabella frowned. “Unfortunately not a lot, although we’re still waiting on the footage from RPD headquarters and a couple of the private businesses on the block. There was a ton of chaos directly after the evac. We did a thorough sweep of the surrounding area as soon as we could, but there was no sign of anyone who could have been the bomber, or of Ice.”
“I’m one hundred percent sure it was him.” Quinn willed her voice to steadiness even though the rest of her felt like dry leaves in a wind tunnel. “The photos don’t lie.”
Hale reached out to put a hand on her forearm. “We’d believe you even without them, Quinn. He’s just really good at hiding, that’s all.”
“It was really quick thinking to grab pictures.” Garza flipped through the images on Quinn’s phone, which she’d immediately handed over the second Ice had whipped around and disappeared into the churning crowd. “He hasn’t shown his face in ages. These will go a long way toward helping us find him.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Luke said, leaning in from beside Quinn to look carefully at Sinclair. “I mean, Ice has made a career out of hiding well, and like you said, he’s not stupid. So why would he do something as brash as planting this bomb right before this huge gun deal goes down?”
“Because that bomb was meant to cause the sort of destruction that would have taken us weeks to recover from.”
Shock rippled up Quinn’s spine as the sergeant’s bone-chilling words sank in. “You think the bomb was just meant to be a diversion?”
“Actually, we think his intent was twofold,” Maxwell ventured. “If the bomb had gone off like Ice had meant it to, then yes, that would have been one hell of a distraction from the gun deal with Sorenson. But he’s also a mean SOB, and he knows you told us about the kidnapping.”
Luke’s eyes went wide with sudden understanding. “So he was trying to make good on his threat to hurt us.”
“It’s why we’re going to go after him with everything we possibly can.” Sinclair looked at Capelli, who had set up not one, but two laptops at the desk built into the side wall of the command vehicle. “Let’s get all the security patrols set up. And I want all that street cam footage run under a goddamn microscope. Find out who Ice is working with.”
“You got it, boss.”
“Garza, talk to your buddy’s informant. Get everything you can on this gun deal. Maxwell, you and Hale take another run at Dixon. See if he knows anything we can use. Moreno.” He turned toward Isabella, his expression as serious as Quinn had ever seen it. “You and Hollister wallpaper the goddamn city with the photos Quinn took. I want everyone with a pulse to know who Ice is and what he looks like. In the meantime, I’ll reach out to my contacts at the ATF to see if they’ve got anything on Sorenson that can help us with this case.”
Altho
ugh Quinn hadn’t thought it possible, Sinclair’s stare grew sharper, his tone growing even more frost-filled as he said, “This asshole took a serious jab at some of our own today. I want him behind bars where he belongs. Let’s go, people.”
“So for now, Luke and I just lie low and wait?” Quinn asked, reaching for Luke’s hand.
Sinclair nodded. “We’re going to catch him. With those photos you took and the intel we’ve got on this gun deal, it’s only a matter of time.”
26
Luke stood on the sidewalk in front of five-sixty-three Balmour Avenue and waited for a feeling that didn’t come. Not that he wanted the jagged nerves and the rapid heartbeat he’d been expecting when he’d arrived in front of his grandmother’s house in an unmarked police car with two armed officers at the helm. Still, after ten years of his instincts warning against any sort of relationship that didn’t have a sell-by date stamped on it in big, bold letters, he’d been expecting at least a few jitters over the familial meet-and-greet that was about to go down.
Still nope. Although from the way Quinn kept smoothing her hand over the front of her flowy white tank top and chewing on her bottom lip, he might be the only one.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked, swiveling her gaze from the neatly kept brick and clapboard cottage to the spot where Luke stood beside her. But they’d spent the last twenty-four hours holed up in her apartment, per Sinclair’s request. While he couldn’t complain too much—they’d been perfectly safe and perfectly naked the whole time—he was reaching his absolute limit of patience for only hearing about his sister and grandmother’s safety secondhand. Plus, there was a bigger truth at play, one he could no longer deny.
Quinn was beautiful. Kind, yet fearless. Wide-open. Perfect. And Luke didn’t just want to let her in.
He wanted to show her everything.
On second thought, it looked like his heart would go for that rapidly beating thing after all. “Yes, I’m sure about this,” he said as he wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed. “I already know your family. It only makes sense for you to meet mine.”
Quinn laughed, and bingo. Her nerves seemed to fall away. “That’s not fair,” she said, her steps finding a rhythm with his as they began to cover the path leading up to the front walkway under the careful watch of the plainclothes officers standing guard just out of earshot. “You work with my family.”
“Uh, your ‘big brothers’ are Hawkins and Gamble. The scary-factor on those two alone makes this more than fair,” Luke pointed out.
Another laugh, and yeah, that was officially his favorite sound. “Mmm, you may have a point there. Although for the record, once you get past all that country-boy bravado, Hawk actually has a secret squishy side.”
“I will take your word for that,” he said over a laugh of his own. “I’m just glad they’re all safe.”
It hadn’t taken long after they’d disbanded yesterday for Capelli to set up a secure section of the RPD network so everyone at Seventeen could check in with each other since their cell phones couldn’t be guaranteed as safe. While Luke had the distinct impression the guy had done so at Shae’s urging—and that Shae had pushed for the sake of Quinn’s sanity—seeing the messages from all of their station-mates had gone a long way toward nailing his hope into place.
They’d overcome the impossible; Christ, they’d dismantled a fucking bomb. There hadn’t been so much as a peep of disturbance anywhere near Quinn’s apartment or Luke’s, which the RPD had kept an eye on even though he hadn’t set so much as a baby toe in the place since Garza had taken him there to grab some clothes yesterday. Likewise, Hayley and Momma Billie had been safe—albeit “totes bored” according to Hayley’s messages over the secure network—ever since they’d returned home from the precinct via police escort.
Well. At least this visit of his would give them a whooooole lot of something to talk about while the intelligence unit closed in on Ice and put him in jail for the rest of his devious scumbag life.
Luke pulled a set of keys from his pocket, letting himself into the house to the tune of the alarm system’s door chime. He’d made sure to have Isabella call over to let his sister and grandmother know he was on the way. Per security protocol, he hadn’t officially planned the trip ahead of time, so the visit was a bit impromptu. But he’d already scared the hell out of his family once this week with a thwarted bomb threat. He had no intention of doing it twice by barging in unannounced when they were on a freakishly high security alert.
“Hello? Momma Billie? It’s me,” he called out, closing the door and entering the six-digit code to keep the alarm from going berserk. The keypads were specially outfitted to flash every time one of the doors opened since Hayley couldn’t hear the chime. The one in the kitchen must have done its job, because a few seconds later, she came running down the hallway from the back of the house.
Luke! Oh my God, I’m so happy to see you. We’ve been so bored, and kind of scared, and—
His sister pulled up completely short, her tie-dyed Converse high tops squeaking to a stop at the sight of Quinn standing next to him on the floorboards. Hayley’s shock lasted less than a second, though, before an ear-to-ear grin tore over her face.
Oh, shut up! she signed rapidly, her dark eyes sparking with excitement. You brought a girl home! This is her, right? Your partner, Quinn? I knew she was pretty! Momma Billie is going to be so mad you didn’t tell that detective to say anything when she called to tell us you were coming. I bet she would have started making something other than meatloaf if she’d known you were bringing a girl home. You know what, never mind. Oh my God, introduce me! Please?
Luke lost the battle with his sigh. He hadn’t brought a woman home since…well, okay, ever. He should have known Hayley would make a monster deal out of this.
“Okay, okay. Jeez, don’t pull a hamstring.” He spoke as he signed, not because Hayley needed him to, or even because she preferred to lip read. But he didn’t want to exclude Quinn from the conversation, even if Hayley was probably about to make him regret it. “Quinn, this is my sister, Hayley. Hayley, this is my partner, Quinn.”
Quinn smiled and slowly signed, speaking out loud as she went. “Hi, Hayley. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Hayley’s brows traveled up. She knows how to sign?
“Yes, Quinn is learning to sign,” he replied, trying to keep both his expression and his tone nonchalant. Not that he was having a truckload of luck in either department. “We treated a deaf patient a couple weeks ago, and ever since then, I’ve been teaching her a few basics.”
Hayley took a step toward Quinn, facing her fully and not even bothering to rein in her Cheshire-cat smile as she signed back, It’s nice to meet you, too. Like, so nice, while Luke translated directly.
“I’m sorry,” Quinn said, shifting her weight from one sandal to the other on the floorboards. “That’s really all I know how to say so far. Unless you want to know that”—she paused, her brows furrowed with enough concentration to blow Luke’s completely as she signed—“my favorite color is light blue and I really like cheeseburgers.”
Hayley huffed out a soundless laugh, and okay, Luke had to laugh, too.
“What?” Quinn asked, starting to laugh herself. He started to answer, but Hayley shushed him in ASL, reaching out in a may I? gesture for Quinn’s hands.
“This is the sign for light blue,” Luke said, watching first as Hayley guided Quinn through it, then as Quinn repeated the sign on her own.
“Ohhh. Got it. Light…blue.” She did it once more for good measure. “Wait. What did I say the first time?”
Unable to help himself, he grinned. “That your favorite color is rutabaga.”
Quinn’s smile was self-deprecating and utterly, flawlessly gorgeous as she looked at Hayley. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not too great at ASL yet.”
“That’s okay,” he translated as his sister shook her head. “I can lip read as long as I can see you.”
Hayley turned her at
tention back to Luke, the sudden softer version of her smile catching him right in the solar plexus. You really like her, don’t you? And she likes you, too, because she tried really hard. I can tell she practiced.
Making the executive decision to edit the conversation to preserve his pride, he relayed the part about Quinn having signed well, switching to ASL only as he said to Hayley, Now no more side conversations. Momma Billie won’t have it, and you know they’re not polite.
Okay, okay, she responded with a dutiful nod.
And yes, he snuck in before the clack of his grandmother’s shoes on the hallway floor turned into her presence in the foyer, unable to keep the squeeze in his chest from translating to a smile as he signed, I really like her.
Hayley smiled. I like her, too.
Thankfully, both the inquisitive look on Quinn’s face and the odd but so-damned-good feeling in Luke’s rib cage fell prey to his grandmother’s voice a second later. “Luke! Oh, thank God you’re here. I’ve been so worried…oh.”
Although Momma Billie’s halt at the end of the hallway was more graceful than Hayley’s, Luke knew the woman well enough to recognize the depth of her surprise.
“It’s okay. I’m safe,” he said, wanting to address her concern. While both Sinclair and Detective Hale had sworn up, down, and sideways that they’d assured his grandmother of his safety while the search for Ice was ongoing, Luke had known she wouldn’t believe it until she saw him with the eyes God had given her. “I’m really fine, Momma Billie.”
“Well, let me see you, then.” Not even the fact that he’d brought company could keep her from opening her arms and grabbing him into a fierce hug.
Luke’s throat tightened, and he let her hold on to him for a few beats longer than usual before pulling back with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to barge in on you, but I ah. Wanted to make sure you’re okay. I also want you to meet my partner, Quinn. Quinn Copeland, this is my grandmother, Wilhelmina Turner.”
In Too Deep: Station Seventeen Book 3 Page 27