Public Enemy, Undercover Lover

by Amanda Meuwissen

  “And we’re not,” Isaac said. “We’re simply going to have a conversation. Is that illegal?”

  “Who are these people?”

  “Person. And do you really want to know?”

  Andrew’s frown deepened, far too much detective flickering across his features.

  “You’re here because you were a cop and your brother still is one. The Wen name carries. Your father had plenty of collars in his day too.”

  “I’m here as protection so no one tries anything if they have it in for you,” Andrew surmised.

  “Only if someone makes a move,” Kathleen said, raising a well-manicured hand to knock. “Until then, you’re no one.”

  She tapped out a gentle rhythm, and within seconds, a thin window in the door slid open to reveal a pair of fierce eyes bending from a towering height.

  “Watts? Get in here, gorgeous. Where ya been?”

  Andrew snorted as the door wrenched open, but Isaac merely shrugged. He’d hired her for a reason.

  She did an admirable job, too, chatting up the bouncer and taking up most of the doorway so he wouldn’t pay them much mind, but he still did his job and cast Isaac and Andrew a quick glance.

  “That Ford? I don’t know, Katy…”

  “We’re seeing Willow, darling. And this is me. You know we’ll behave.”

  The bouncer didn’t look convinced. “Who’s the nark?” he shot at Andrew.

  “He always looks like that,” Kathleen dismissed, sidling in front of the bouncer to better hide Andrew. “I’m not allowed to have an entourage? Arty gets so surly without company.”

  Isaac winced.

  “I suppose…but Tony and Sandra got Willow’s door. They might not be as friendly.”

  Kathleen tapped her fingers on the bouncer’s chest. “I can make anyone friendly. You better still be here when I get back.”

  He let her through, all softness for Kathleen, but his hardness returned when Isaac and Andrew moved past him.

  Isaac merely smiled and kept moving.

  “Now will you fess up to being Artifice?” Andrew whispered once they were inside. “Or should I also start calling you Arty?”

  “Nicknames can come from so many things.”

  “I can come up with my own then. How about…Ike?”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “Aww,” Andrew giggled, “but Ike’s kind of cute.”

  “So are you, honey,” Kathleen fake whispered back at them, “but you need to work on your subterfuge. Anyone with eyes can tell you two are banging.”

  That shut Andrew up, which was just as well in this crowd, not that Isaac liked Kathleen realizing the truth as easily as Luke had.

  He hadn’t been in this particular den of thieves since his arrest, but the scene was the same. Loud music, revelers and drinks being passed around, half like an underground club and half for business, because with the smattering of gambling going on, there were also whispered deals being made, and many faces in corners that Andrew had probably seen on wanted posters.

  The detective look was all over him again, like he was taut to spring into action.

  “Pick your battles,” Isaac said more hushed. “You’re not on the PD’s payroll anymore.”

  Andrew scowled but steeled himself with a nod.

  They continued through the throng of people. Most ignored them, though there were a few unfriendly looks thrown their way and some admiring gazes for Kathleen. The building had several back rooms, but Willow G’s was the largest.

  “Where are you going?” Sandra, the burly female bouncer, asked when they reached Willow’s door.

  “Come on, Sandy, you know me,” Kathleen used her same universal charms. “I just need a word with the boss.”

  “Do you? Or your boss does?” Tony bristled. He was the big muscle, larger than Luke or the bouncer at the main door.

  “Arty and Willow go way back,” Kathleen kept on. “Let him and his friend through, and I’ll stay as collateral—and to keep you company. Five minutes.”

  “What’s in it for us?” Sandra asked.

  “Besides my sparkling personality?”

  They both chuckled but didn’t yet budge.

  “You really beat Big Bruno in an arm-wrestling match?” Tony asked.

  “Why? You want a go?”

  “I ain’t that mean, but what about facing Sandy?”

  Sandra grinned, and Kathleen shed her coat in one swift movement, tossing it at Tony.

  “Seriously?” Andrew sputtered.

  “You know what they say, honey. It’s not your size but how you use it.” She winked. “If I win before they get back, you owe us a round,” she said to Sandra, who cracked her knuckles as she moved from the door. Kathleen cracked hers too and leaned in close to Isaac and Andrew before leaving, “I can’t believe I’m going to break a nail for you two. And probably Sandy’s thumb.” She winked again and hurried off.

  “Does this mean Luke is the brains, and she’s the brawns?” Andrew asked after Tony waved them through.

  “Depends on the day of the week.”

  Willow’s room was especially busy and moving to a separate dance mix, but Isaac spotted her in the corner immediately, queen of her castle, stretched out in a curved booth with a table covered in drinks and a throng of people around her.

  She spotted him too, not one to over-indulge in vices and keenly aware of her surroundings. She had skin deep black like Luke’s and thrived in contrasting colors, her hair an even whiter blond than Isaac’s and outfit all ivory and gold, as chic as any businesswoman on Wall Street.

  She seemed amused to see him but not surprised, already telling some of her posse to scram, as he made his way toward her.

  “Isaac Ford, you fucker.”

  Isaac reared back at the interception. Lewis…something or other, stood in front of him, an aging and useless thief who thought he was hot shit, but who Isaac had never deemed worthy enough to learn his whole name. He was the type of greasy dried-up has-been Isaac had striven to never become. And he looked like he’d just won a prize.

  “I know half a dozen good men in lockup who’d kill to get this close to you,” Lewis sneered. “But I’m a good sport. No point in being unfriendly when there might be something better in it for me. You’re a negotiator, right?”

  Opportunist. The world was full of them. “If you think I’m intimidated—”

  “By some old man? Nah. But then, I listen, see, and lately, there’s a name that’s been following you around.”

  Finally, someone was going to bring up Andrew—

  “Wellesley, wasn’t it?”

  Isaac stiffened, his worst fear realized at the drop of a name.

  “Heard he’s only twenty-three. You fucking them that young now?”

  The punch came so out of left field, for a second, Isaac thought it was his own, acting entirely on instinct when he saw red. But as the old criminal’s nose cracked, it was Andrew who stood there, huffing and shaking with his fists clenched after slipping in front of Isaac with a full-body swing.

  A few people scattered as Lewis stumbled back, Isaac ready for unseen muscle to materialize out of the woodwork to grab them, but the lull that came over the music was broken by a snap of Willow’s fingers.

  Someone dragged Lewis away, groaning and sputtering and spitting blood onto the floor, as the path to Willow cleared again and the music returned.

  “A show of force can be a good thing in a place like this, right?” Andrew said to the floor before looking up embarrassedly.

  Embarrassed that he’d just come to Isaac’s rescue. “Willow seems to think so,” Isaac said, warm and grateful and a little turned on all at once. He grabbed Andrew’s arm to lead him forward so the onlookers would stop staring.

  Willow sat alone now in the center of her large booth, save two bodyguards at either end. “Mr. Wen, you sure know how to make an entrance.”

  “He deserved it,” Andrew said simply. “You know me? I didn’t even know you existed unt
il Ford said your name.”

  “And you have no idea how much that pleases me.” Her attention swiveled to Isaac. “You could have just sent a message, Arty.”

  “That would have taken too long. This needed to happen tonight.”

  “I assume you’re not looking for a job then, unless you two are here for another career change.”

  “You know why I’m here, Will. You didn’t send that note with Boyega’s obituary just to tempt me back into the business. You really thought this new thief might be me. Which means they’re acting more like Artifice than I thought.”

  Andrew startled. It was as close to a true confession as Isaac had ever given in his presence, but he knew that wasn’t what had Andrew staring, because he had to realize what this meant too.

  “Someone’s using my old codes in the classifieds, aren’t they?”

  “Bingo.” Willow snapped a finger-gun at him. “I thought, if it wasn’t you, you’d have noticed by now, but I suppose with you out of the game, why would anyone think to look for the same old trick? Those codes were so hard to prove.” She grinned at Andrew.

  “I remember,” he said.

  “What about Avalon?” Isaac asked. “That’s the case we care about. Apparently, that damn article by Olivia Park spread the right names to the wrong people.”

  “Oh, that?” Willow nodded at Lewis in the far corner nursing his wound. “That wasn’t because of the article. Anyone who wanted to know about…Dalton,” she said carefully, gauging Isaac’s response, which he tried to keep schooled, “already did.”

  “How?”

  She had an agelessness about her that could have placed her as young as Andrew or pushing fifty, and honestly, Isaac wasn’t sure which was true, but when she tilted her head, she looked as chiding as a matriarch. “All those death threats, and you really think you haven’t been watched since the moment you were released?”

  “I’m not a snitch,” Isaac swore. “I didn’t run in those circles, I got dragged along—”

  “Don’t tell me the sob story. Half the people who would care about what happened after the breakout are on your side. They get it. The other half hate you, but most aren’t planning any foolhardy attacks, not with Luke around, or when Katy’s so popular. No, that’s reserved for a small few. And you know who would have you at the top of their hit lists.”

  “Other than nobodies like Lewis, they’re all dead or in jail, including Boyega.”

  “Not his brother.” Willow leaned pointedly over the table.

  “Jericho is across the country.”

  “Is he?”

  Isaac felt a sense of dread coil at the base of his spine. “He’s not.”

  “He’s not. He hired the city’s new thief to target your son’s research.”

  “Why?”

  “You put yourself in the spotlight, Arty. Makes it harder to reach you. But there are other ways to take revenge on someone. He has a buyer, some competitor of Avalon’s, but his real goal was to shake you up and find out exactly who Dalton was to you. No one was sure. By now though, he guesses he’s your son.”

  “If we find him, we’ll still have to worry about the thief,” Isaac said, feeling the dread turn colder and biting inside him. “I don’t suppose you’d tell me—”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Willow said. “But honestly, even I don’t know who they are. You’ll have to track them the way you were tracked.” She glanced at Andrew again. “You know what to do. Wait for the next hit, wait for the ad, get them at the drop. Fifteen minute intervals like usual. Client drops the cash, thief makes the exchange, client claims their spoils. No one’s been dumb enough to break that rule so far.”

  “Jericho won’t show up in person.”

  “No, but whoever he sends can lead you right to him.”

  “Why are you telling us all this?” Andrew asked the right question, but Isaac knew the answer.

  “Arty’s a friend,” she said. “And Jericho isn’t. The nasty ones always want to push into others’ territories. It’s disrespectful. You get him arrested, win-win for me. I know which friends are important to keep.” She snapped her fingers again and a tray of drinks appeared as if her underlings could read her mind. “You’re welcome to stay and have a little fun, if you like.”

  “Thanks, Will,” Isaac said, “but we’ll pass.” He made to bow his head and lead Andrew away, but one of the muscle came over to whisper something in Willow’s ear.

  She shook her head with a smirk. “You’re going to have to teach your boy the ropes a bit better.”

  “What?”

  “He’s at the front door.”

  * * * *

  Andrew could tell Ford was beyond incensed as they moved back through the building to the door they’d first entered. Between his rage and insistent pace, and the looks Andrew was getting from that punch having spread, they would definitely be remembered, however good or bad that might be.

  Even in heels, Kathleen managed to stay ahead of Ford. She had her trench coat back and didn’t look like she’d broken a nail—Andrew even thought that Sandra might have been shaking her hand as they left—but pushed forward to reach the bouncer first, who had a vice grip on Dalton.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie, he’s with me!” she called.

  “Yeah?” the bouncer spun with an unfriendly snarl.

  “My nephew, darling. Completely harmless.”

  Dalton lit up at being saved—but then paled when he saw Ford’s face.

  “We need to teach him self-restraint,” Kathleen said, carefully prying the bouncer’s hands off of Dalton, “but you, honey, I’ll call later.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek, and he looked less formidable as he relented and let them escape outside.

  “Do you have any idea the danger you just put yourself in!?” Ford was a force of paternal rage. “How did you even know to come here?”

  “I can do a tail too,” Dalton pouted.

  “There is no way you followed us. I made sure—”

  “I followed Andrew.”

  Andrew retreated as Ford’s rage whipped to him. “I-I didn’t think—”

  “No, you clearly didn’t. And neither did you.” He reared back on his son. “We just found out that I was right. You were targeted on purpose. They know about you. They all know. And I can’t keep you safe. I certainly can’t if you show up where the worst of them gather and no one would find your body.”

  Dalton looked rightly browbeaten, but he still countered, “I knew you were here. I knew I’d be fine.”

  “That’s not good enough. Why would you risk—”

  All at once, alarms on both Andrew and Ford’s phones started going off, and the exact timing and tone told them what it had to be.

  The thief was at Avalon.

  “The trap?” Dalton surmised. “It went off, didn’t it?”

  “Did you bring a car?” Ford asked Andrew.

  “A couple blocks down.”

  “We can make it. It’ll take them at least ten minutes to get back to the first floor, and they have to use that same exit.”

  “We should call Steve—”

  “If they see any lights, they might try something different. We have to go now. Kathleen,” Ford grabbed Dalton’s arm and pushed him toward her, “take him home.”

  “No way! I’m coming too. Don’t argue,” Dalton spoke over Ford’s protest. “We don’t have time, and I can get us in faster.” He pulled out his wallet to show off his ID badge, but then put it away before Ford could simply snatch it.

  Andrew knew Ford hated everything about this, but he still said, “I’ll call you later,” to Kathleen and pushed Andrew and Dalton down the alley.

  * * * *

  Andrew got them there in just over five minutes, lucking out with traffic, taking back alleys, and parking without care to race for the same entrance they’d broken into before. Their compressed air had long since evaporated—but there was new residue on the lock.

  Dalton used his ID to get them in without causing any
alarms. There were no obvious sounds of company inside or anyone in sight, but they were early.

  The trap was simple. They knew the path the thief would follow but catching them relied on knowing when they struck—with a pressure plate. A borrowed scale hidden on Dalton’s tabletop held everything worth stealing. As soon as the weight changed, a signal had gone to Andrew and Ford’s phones. If they were too late, they still had a failsafe.

  The Bluetooth trackers Andrew had planned to use with Larson, hidden on the equipment.

  “We’re at the exit. No sign of them yet,” Andrew reported to Kevin over his radio. “What about the trackers?”

  “Still showing in the building,” Kevin said.

  He nodded affirmative to Ford and Dalton.

  “Riley, anything on the cameras?” Ford asked on his end. He listened and nodded as well. “Working fine, but we know this thief knows where they are. They’re being smart, not wanting to alert anyone that something’s wrong. But they have to go through this exit.” He gestured behind them. “All the other cameras are stationary and would spot them. We just need to wait.”

  They silently agreed on sentry points, moving to guard each hallway entrance. Dalton stuck by Ford, and for a few anxious minutes, there was nothing but stillness, not even one of the security guards appearing, which made sense, since the thief would have chosen their timing when this route would be clear.

  “Shit,” Kevin hissed over the comms.

  “Kev? Is something wrong?”

  Ford and Dalton dashed over to him to listen in.

  “The camera to one of the other exits just went out. That whole grid, just shut off remotely.”

  “Which exit?” Ford demanded.

  “There!” Dalton cried, taking off as there was a flash of color and movement down the hallway.

  “Wait!” Ford called after him. He gave chase, and Andrew sprinted in pursuit behind him, but Dalton still crested the corner first. Then Ford.

  Then a gunshot rang out, followed by a scream.

  Andrew prepared for the worst as he rounded the corner, but it wasn’t a gunshot, just the slam of the door, which must have caught Dalton’s hand, because he was on the ground cradling it, while Ford crouched over him.