Sweet Dreams Boxed Set

by Brenda Novak

  Jim had wanted to kill him.

  The only way their operation worked was because no one—no one—knew about Jim’s business relationship and friendship with Sergei. Tommy Cordell had no clue. Neither did Travis Hart. It was a flawless organizational structure. Jim was the brains, Sergei had the contacts and capital. Sergei was the figurehead, Jim the silent partner.

  And to be taken down because of three dead whores.

  And one good cop.

  Jim walked carefully down the steep embankment. He called out to Alex, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She didn’t respond. Of course not, she wasn’t stupid.

  “Alex,” he said, “I heard everything you said on your phone.”

  Again, no answer.

  “While you were out with Travis Hart last night, I planted a bug in your apartment. When I came over, I bugged your phone. Hard to do when you had eagle eyes on me, but it didn’t take long. I know you went to see Tommy at the jail, and I know he told you shit, and I know you didn’t care because it was what he didn’t say that convinced you. You were fishing about the shooter, wanting to know why he had the same gun that had killed that prostitute three years ago when he was dead before another—fictional, mind you—prostitute was attacked.” He shook his head and almost smiled. “I really didn’t expect you to become such a great liar.”

  He was almost to the waterline. He still couldn’t see Alex, but there was only one place she could be—on the other side of the car, which was blocked from his view.

  “I have to admit, I didn’t realize you were working for the feds until after you moved into my house. I was taking a big risk bringing you in so close, I don’t know why I did it. Maybe I’m just reckless.” That certainly wasn’t true. He’d always been cautious, but when he was confronted with a bad situation, he always worked to get out of it. “Or maybe I wanted some of your optimism to rub off on me. Oh, you did a great job of playing the tough female cop, but at your core Alex, you’re an optimist. When faced with two choices, you will always do the right thing. Always. Even if you weren’t told what to do. That’s why I didn’t believe you when you said you could look the other way when Tommy was shaking down drug dealers.”

  “Did he know?” Alex said quietly. “Was this all a big joke on me? Screwing Sergei Rykov’s best friend while everyone laughed that they were feeding me bad information?”

  “Tommy had no idea about me. No one knew. That’s why it worked for so long.” He stepped to the side. A car was speeding down the road, getting closer. He didn’t want to be shot in the back. He needed to do this right, or not at all.

  “Look, we don’t have much time. I’m not capable of loving anyone, Alex. But if I could, I’d love you. I pushed you that night because I knew you’d leave. If you didn’t leave, I would have had to kill you. And I didn’t want to kill you.”

  “Isn’t that what you’re planning to do now? Isn’t that why you keep moving closer?”

  “I put my gun away,” he said. “Honestly, Alex, if you were the only one who knew how those three whores were connected, I would kill you. Quickly, but you’d be dead. I’m practical like that. But you’re not the only one. You told Selena Black, and she told her brother. I’m not an idiot. I’m not going to kill you and then hunt them down and kill them.” He paused. “I figured out that you’re working with Matt Elliott. I should have seen that a long time ago, but I missed it.” He shouldn’t have. Perhaps his affection for Alex had clouded his judgment. “I heard him come by your apartment last night.”

  “Bastard.”

  He laughed. “I don’t care about who you have sex with, Alex. But Elliott is connected to the feds through his sister, and his sister is married to one of those mercenary types, and if I took out Matt Elliott, those mercenaries he associates with would swoop in and take down our entire operation. I can’t let that happen.”

  “If you don’t plan to kill me, why are you here? Why don’t you run? Or turn yourself in?”

  A car pulled up on the shoulder above. Jim stepped deeper into the scraggly trees.

  “Alex!” a voice called from above.

  Jim said, “I am turning myself in. I wanted you to know why.”

  Could she believe him?

  “Hands where I can see them, Detective,” Dean Hooper’s voice came from somewhere above her. She didn’t dare look for fear Jim was lying and had a gun aimed at the car. Though he wouldn’t shoot her in front of an armed federal agent, would he?

  “I’m surrendering,” Jim called out.

  “Come up the embankment. Slowly. No sudden movements, Detective.”

  Alex desperately wanted to see what was happening.

  “Where’s Alex?” Matt shouted. “Is she trapped?”

  “I’m okay!” she yelled. “Matt, I’m fine!” She wasn’t fine. She couldn’t walk. Her right foot was completely numb, and her left foot as buried to the knee in silt. She’d tried earlier to pull her foot out, but she could hold no weight on her broken ankle. Her nose had stopped bleeding, but throbbed painfully. She reached up to use the car as leverage, but as she started to pull herself out of the silt the car shifted and tipped towards her. She screamed, unable to move away from the unstable car.

  The car fell on top of her, the roof pinning her to the bottom of the river. With all her strength she pushed at the car, but she couldn’t budge it. She held her breath, the pressure of the car almost unbearable. Her lungs burned. Her throat ached. She was going to drown. She was going to die trapped under less than two feet of water.

  No! This couldn’t be happening.

  She reached her hand up and felt air. The surface was right there ... if she could get her head up just a few inches. She shifted and shimmied and almost screamed in pain as her broken ankle brushed against the car. Her other leg was trapped in the mud. She could scarcely move.

  Fight, Alex. Fight!

  The more she struggled, the deeper she sank into the mud.

  She couldn’t hold her breath any longer, and water filled her lungs.

  ***

  Matt watched as Alex pulled herself up on the car, her head barely visible. Then suddenly the car shifted and collapsed on top of her. She disappeared from sight.

  Adrenaline laced with deep fear propelled him down the embankment and into the water. The silt was thick, and his shoes sunk deep with every step. “Alex!” he called.

  The current wasn’t strong, but the muck at the bottom was thick. With each heavy step he feared he would be too late. That she would drown right in front of him and he wouldn’t be able to save her.

  “Alex!”

  Where was she? He couldn’t see her. She was trapped under the car, but he couldn’t see exactly where she was. The car was sinking, pushing her further into the river floor.

  He reached under the car but couldn’t see or feel her. He tried to push the car off her, then stopped when he realized he could be crushing her.

  Her hand broke through the surface and he jumped toward it. The water reached mid-thigh, which meant she was only two feet or so below the surface.

  Then her hand disappeared.

  Matt reached under and desperately searched for her hand. He grabbed her wrist and she clutched him. He pulled as hard as he could, but she didn’t move.

  “Help me!” he shouted. “She’s trapped under the car!”

  Jim Perry was the closest. He ran into the river. “I’ll push the car, you pull her out,” Jim said. “On three. Two. One!” Jim put all his weight into the car, simultaneously reaching under and trying to lift it. “I can’t get a grip!” he cried out.

  Alex’s fingers loosened from his wrist. Her arm went limp.

  No!

  Matt dove underwater and located her shoulders. He grabbed firmly under her arm pits and pulled.

  She was trapped not only by the car, but in the silt. Slowly, far too slowly, he was pulling her out. He planted his feet; they sank deep into the silt but he now had leverage. He pulled harder and suddenly she slid
free.

  Her face was swollen, her eyes closed, her mouth open. She wasn’t breathing.

  “No, dammit!” He fought the mud and weeds and current. He carried her to the edge of the water where he put her down. He didn’t hear her breathing and checked her pulse. Nothing. How much time had passed? Seconds? Minutes? “Come on, Alex.” He performed CPR. Thirty rapid chest compressions. He counted in his head. Then he tilted her head, held her nose, and blew two breaths into her mouth.

  Waited. Counted again, willing Alex to breathe.

  He wasn’t going to lose her now that they’d found each other.

  His eyes burned and his chest tightened. This could not be happening. Matt was about to compress her chest again when she coughed up water. He turned her to her side as she coughed more water and breathed erratically.

  But she was breathing.

  Alex was alive. She was safe. His heart still pounded as he held her close to his chest.

  “Don’t scare me like that again,” he whispered. “Ever.”

  Matt looked up at Jim. He should thank him, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. If it weren’t for Jim Perry, Alex wouldn’t have been trapped under that car in the first place.

  Dean motioned for Jim to walk up the embankment. He did, silently. Dean handcuffed him and read him his rights.

  Matt held Alex. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered. “I want you, Alex. I need you.” He pushed back her hair and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Alex. I think I’ve loved you for the last year and a half, but I couldn’t tell you. But now I can. Now I know.”

  He leaned in, wanting to hear her speak.

  She put her hands on his face and opened her eyes. “Matt,” she said, her voice rough.

  “When you disappeared under water—“

  “Shh. I’m okay.”

  “I know.” But he held her tight. “I know.”

  “I’m sorry I doubted you yesterday, even for a minute.”

  “Don’t go there. It’s forgotten.”

  “All I have to do is look at you to see you are noble and trustworthy.”

  “I will do whatever it takes to prove how much I love you. To earn your love in return.”

  She leaned up and kissed him. “You already have.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  One Week Later

  Alex walked into FBI headquarters on crutches. Her ankle was a mess, but after surgery and pins and a ridiculous cast that she hated, she was finally able to move around with crutches.

  She’d taken a taxi because her dad and grandmother had been doting on her all week and she was going crazy. Her dad—who never postponed a trial—had put everything on hold for the week. Today was the first day he’d gone back to the courthouse.

  Dean Hooper had called her last night and asked if she wanted to observe Jim Perry’s interview. His lawyer and the Assistant US Attorney had worked out a plea agreement. “I’m not completely happy about it,” Dean had said, “but I can live with it, and I hope you can, too.”

  She could live with anything because she was alive.

  Matt had seen her every day, first at the hospital then at her dad’s house, where she’d moved after she was released. They didn’t talk about what he’d said to her at the river, and she wondered if he’d forgotten.

  Of course he hadn’t. He was just waiting for her.

  So much had happened so fast ... and she didn’t know which end was up. She’d trusted Jim, and he was not only a corrupt cop, but ran Sergei Rykov’s operation. He’d wouldn’t admit it, just like he denied that Sergei was with him on the road after she went into the river.

  The police hadn’t found Sergei Rykov, and they likely wouldn’t unless Jim cooperated. And the plea deal was for one thing:

  Travis Hart.

  Matt was in the observation room when Dean entered with Alex.

  He frowned. “I would have picked you up.” He moved a chair over so she could sit.

  “The Marshals are bringing Perry in now,” Dean said. “Five minutes.” He left.

  “Stop waiting on me like a child,” she said, though gratefully sat in the chair. The crutches were extremely frustrating for her, when she was used to being so active. “I need to learn to get around on my own.”

  “Why can’t you let me help you?”

  “You’re spoiling me.”

  “Never.”

  She kissed him. “Let me start doing things for myself.”

  “Maybe I enjoy taking care of you.” He played with her hair. “I’m glad you’re feeling yourself.”

  He still looked worried.

  She almost smiled because he was so adorable. But this was hard for her, and she didn’t know why. “Stop walking on eggshells around me. I’m not going to break. I’m not going to run away. I’ve been thinking about me, about the men in my life and why I made so many mistakes. I didn’t know about Jim, and that bothers me more than anything else. Even when the pieces were all there in front of me, I couldn’t even imagine that he was in Rykov’s operation. That he was Rykov’s equal. In fact, there would be no Sergei Rykov without Jim Perry.

  “Yesterday, I was furious that the FBI was cutting Jim a deal. That he would be walking free and not even have to turn over the person who we were trying to get in the first place. Jim was party to human trafficking, prostitution, and money laundering. And there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s killed in cold blood. He’s a sociopath. He would have killed me if no one else knew about his involvement.”

  Matt tensed, and she grabbed his hands. “But he didn’t. I just need to make peace with the fact that we’re getting a killer and Rykov has lost his partner. I have faith that the FBI, that Dean Hooper, will get him some day. I just hope it’s sooner rather than later.”

  “I didn’t like the deal either, Alex. Not after what that bastard did to you.”

  “I’m a big girl, Matt. I’m not a victim here. I walked away from Jim that night after he accused me of having an affair with Tommy because I was having an affair.” She touched him. “An affair of the heart,” she added. “I never understood why you’d never asked me out, and assumed you didn’t date cops or colleagues, or maybe you were gay.”

  Matt’s eyes widened and she couldn’t help but laugh. “A girl has to stroke her ego, you know. Cute guy not interested? Married or gay. But when we started working together eighteen months ago, and I saw you every week, I started to look forward to our hour together. I wanted it to be more. I wanted to spend more time with you. And before I even moved out of Jim’s house, I knew I didn’t love him, and I was falling in love with you.

  “After Tommy shot me and everything came crashing down, I think I blamed you when it was really no one’s fault. No one except Tommy, and me. I didn’t see the signs that Tommy thought I was a snitch, and I walked into a situation I wasn’t prepared for. But I was angry, and hurt, and bitter, and embarrassed. If I had let you in then, I would never have trusted my feelings, or yours, because I would have thought it was you pitying me, when really it was just me feeling sorry for everything I lost.”

  “I’ve never pitied you, Alex. Sympathy isn’t pity.”

  “You’re right, but when you’ve been through the emotional wringer, everything is skewed. But now I can tell you the truth.” She leaned forward and looked into his eyes. “Matt Elliott, I love you. I trust you. And I want to see where this relationship goes. I’m not an easy person to love. I’m prickly. I’m sarcastic. I’m nearly as judgmental as my dad. I don’t know that you’ll want to—”

  Matt put his fingers to her lips. “Say the first part again.”

  “The first part?”

  “I love you. Say it.”

  “I love you?”

  “That’s it. Nothing else matters. I love you, Alexandra Morgan. Just as you are. Because of who you are. We’ll figure the rest out as we go along.”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  Matt leaned in and kissed her. Slow. Sweet. With promises of more to come.
r />   There was a knock on the door, then Dean popped his head in. “Show time.”

  Jim Perry was led into the adjoining room, along with several lawyers for both the government and Jim. Dean Hooper led the questioning. The preliminary paperwork and agreement had been hashed out with the attorneys. Jim would be given ten years strict probation but no jail time. He would not be allowed to possess a firearm. He would lose his pension. He had to forfeit his passport and if he left Sacramento County, he had to inform the FBI and AUSA of his travel plans.

  Jim didn’t seem particularly disturbed by the restrictions. Alex wondered how much money he had squirreled away. It could be substantial.

  Or he might have enough money to disappear like Rykov appeared to have done.

  He would not testify against Sergei Rykov, but one condition of his deal was that he would give the names of any law enforcement official—local, state or federal—who he knew to be engaged in illegal activities, and he would agree to testify against former Detective Tommy Cordell. He identified four individuals: two in Sac PD, one in the Sheriff’s department, and one DEA agent that he had evidence were taking kickbacks from organized crime. Alex hoped that was it—that Jim wasn’t holding back. He was only required to give names of those he could document, and he turned over a box of evidence which Dean ordered two agents to review in another room.

  Once that was done, Dean moved the conversation to Travis Hart.

  “Mr. Perry, as part of your plea agreement, you agreed to testify to serious felonies committed by an elected official, Lieutenant Governor Travis Hart. You also indicated that you have evidence to support your accusation.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jim said. He was serious, but there was a sparkle in his eye.

  Alex whispered to Matt, “He’s enjoying this.”

  Standing behind her, Matt squeezed her shoulders. “It appears so.”

  “Please state your charges and evidence.”

  “Travis Hart killed five women, all prostitutes, over the last five years. Sacramento PD knows about two of them.”