If the team caught Serrano, it would not only halt imports of the dangerous drug into Baltimore, but would also save the lives of hundreds of high school kids in the area. Plus, Luke had personal stake in this fight. He wanted to find Serrano ASAP. If he found Luke first, he’d kill him. Luke would prefer to see his thirty-first birthday this year.
So their task today was to watch two members of the gang, Ronan Cortez and Joaquin Estobar, as the pair met with a high school student interested in joining their gang. The hope was that they would offer up some sort of information that would lead the team to José Serrano.
“Reese, you’ve got stationary surveillance,” Ash said, pointing at the monitor to a road on the side of the park. “Tyke and Thor, ground coverage here.” He gestured to an area above a giant frozen pond.
“Got it.” Tyke looked down at his ninety-pound police dog sitting at his feet. “Don’t we, boy?”
Thor barked his consent.
“Where do you need me?” Luke asked.
Ash tossed a camera with a high-powered lens at him. “Sam and I need engagement pictures.”
“That’s great. Back to the assignment, where do you—”
“That’s your assignment,” Ash replied. “Sam and I need engagement pictures. Or at least she says we do. You’re a good photographer. That’s our cover.”
Luke glanced down at the black contraption in his hands, then back up at Ash. His best friend’s expression didn’t crack. “You’re serious?”
“For all our sakes, don’t screw this up.”
Chapter Four
It was days like today she really needed her head examined.
Cass stood behind a tall, sturdy oak tree in the thick woods of Patterson Park, shivering in a white parka, jeans, and snow boots. The jacket was Daniel’s, so it was a bit large for her frame. But she needed something her students wouldn’t recognize.
Her plan had been to show up at Miguel’s apartment and talk some sense into him. She’d overheard his conversation with Eduardo about meeting some gang members here today. But with her little escapade last night, and then getting up late this morning at Luke’s, she’d been too late.
So she was onto plan B. Try to distract Miguel and get him away from whatever he was getting himself involved in. How, she had no clue. But she had to try something.
It was a normal gray November day with snow on the ground and wind gusting at a blustery twenty degrees that chilled her down to the bone. She’d bundled her long brown hair up into a thick wool hat and tied the hood of her jacket over it, keeping her face low, not only to ward off the bitter wind, but also so no one would ID her. Yeah, she was totally creeping.
She rested her gloved hand on the wide trunk and peered around at Miguel Cortez, one of her brightest students. He stood about two hundred yards away in the clearing with three other boys around his age. From this distance, there wasn’t much to distinguish one boy from the others. All appeared to be older teenagers, wearing baggy jeans and black, puffy jackets. Hats covering dark, cropped hair. Tanned complexion. Deep brown eyes.
They huddled around a metal trash container, rubbing their hands over the glowing fire inside. They occasionally looked up and surveyed their surroundings before leaning into the circle to continue their conversation.
Lifting her binoculars, she placed them on her eyes and took a closer look.
She didn’t know the tallest of the group, but she’d seen him lurking around school in the afternoons. Other school administrators had mentioned he was in the gang, trying to sell drugs to students. It gave her heart a bit of a jump to see him now. If what was said about him was true, then she felt completely justified in spying on them. He stood erect with hands in his jacket pockets and a stony expression.
The boy next to “Stony ” was Eduardo Garcia, a senior at her high school. He would be an okay student if he didn’t skip class and if he participated when he did attend.
Ronan Cortez stood on the other side of Eduardo. He was Miguel’s older brother, and this was the first time Cass had seen him since he’d dropped out of Carver High School a year earlier. Gossip had circulated that the reason he left was because he’d joined the gang. She hadn’t believed it, but seeing him with the tallest young man seemed to confirm the rumors.
A pang of regret washed over her. Gang. Drugs.
The boys were so young. With their whole lives ahead of them. It crushed her to think that their lives had amounted to something so horrible. She should have gotten to know Ronan better. She should’ve talked to him more. Reached out to him. She might have been able to save him from this.
As expected, there weren’t many other people at the park on such a freezing day. A man and woman posing for a photographer stood to her right about one hundred yards away. A burly man in cargo pants and boots walked his German shepherd farther out.
Damn, a dog. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Perfect excuse to be in a park. Unlike Cass, who had taken refuge in the thick woods where no one could easily spot her, but also where she couldn’t see or hear much of what the teens talked about.
She covered her mouth with her hand and breathed out, letting the warm air coat her skin. Another chilling gust blew, nearly pushing her hood off. Cass threw her hand on top of her head to keep it in place as a shiver racked her body. There were so many other things she could be doing right now. Drinking molten-hot cocoa in a steaming-hot bath while reading a scorching-hot romance novel, for example. But no. She had to care about her students. See to it they walked the straight and narrow.
Because they don’t deserve the cards they’ve been dealt.
Far as she could tell, Miguel hadn’t actually joined the gang. He was still attending class and getting excellent grades. Her fear was that with enough influence from Ronan, Miguel would eventually succumb. He’d end up the same as many of his classmates.
Dead.
The school board hadn’t gotten involved, no matter how many times Cass begged for support. Vigils were held and memories of the deceased boys had been shared, but nothing was being done to actually stop the deaths. Politicians and school officials seemed to agree that the loss of life was tragic, but there wasn’t anything they could do if the deaths occurred off school grounds.
That’s why she was here, freezing in the middle of the woods. To see to it that Miguel didn’t agree to join the gang. Didn’t take the drugs. That he had a life to live well into old age.
Miguel kept his hands in his pants pockets, staring at the frost-covered ground, sweeping his booted foot across the frozen blades. Occasionally his brother bumped a shoulder into Miguel’s and gestured toward Eduardo, which prompted Miguel to say something to his classmate. Eduardo would smile or laugh, then Miguel would go back to swinging his foot across the ground.
Good. Don’t get involved.
Ronan jammed a hand into his pants pocket and grinned as he said something. His gaze traveled to his hidden hand, and Stony and Eduardo glanced to where he gestured. Then, as if sensing her stare, Stony looked up in her direction.
Shit! Her heart skipped a beat as she whirled around, planting her back against the tree.
“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid,” she muttered. “This goes way beyond caring about your students, Cass.” It was the truth. She was a guidance counselor at the school. Not their mother. Not their friend. Her job most definitely did not include spying on her students’ extracurricular activities.
She was someone who advised them on which classes to take or which college to attend. At least for those students who actually wanted to go to class or college. John C. Carver High School was an underprivileged school with a graduation rate of less than 30 percent. Most students dropped out, got pregnant, or lately, joined a gang. She was determined to change that statistic for the better. It was one of the main reasons she took the position over one at a more elite school close to home like her parents had wanted.
When she spotted potential—real potential—in a student, she couldn’t simply give up on
them or let them give up on themselves. Students like Miguel needed her.
Cass twisted just enough to sneak another glimpse at the boys. Ronan had pulled his hand halfway out of his pocket, still grinning. From where she stood, she couldn’t see what was in his hand, so she stretched past the tree to get a better look with the binoculars.
Still couldn’t see.
Eduardo pulled back and his eyes widened. Ronan smiled and nodded in response. Ronan said something and paused as if waiting for Eduardo’s reaction.
A prickle of unease clawed up Cass’s spine and her breath froze in her lungs.
Drugs.
She needed to get closer. Because really, it could be anything in Ronan’s hand, right? She could be jumping to conclusions.
Do you hear yourself, Cass? You’re in denial.
Her breathing kicked up, lungs burning from the quick rush of icy air. The realization slammed into her. It was one thing to hear about Baltimore’s struggle with drugs and gangs on the news, or even hear the gossip in the halls at school.
It was a completely different story when it stared her in the face.
Without thinking, she moved across the frosted grass. It crunched beneath her boots as she made her way out of the woods, toward the clearing. Her heart pounded and for once she didn’t feel the cold seeping into her bones. She was on a mission.
Cass stopped behind the third tree she came to, bringing her a few feet closer to the boys.
That wasn’t close enough.
She shuffled to the next tree, dodging behind it as soon as she reached it. Cass kept her attention on Miguel and Eduardo, praying they wouldn’t open their hands and accept whatever Ronan had in his pocket.
Her fingers drummed on the hard, uneven surface of the tree trunk. Her breath raced in and out. Her right leg bobbed in place.
She needed to do something. She needed to stop this.
One wrong move—one wrong decision—and more innocent lives could be ruined.
That couldn’t happen.
She hadn’t moved all the way out to the East Coast, away from her family, just to give up and watch her students destroy their lives.
…
Just in case anyone cared, Luke hated winter weather. Hated it. Once he finished this damn assignment, he was going to Miami or Southern California. Hell, maybe even the Caribbean. No more freaking snow, bitter wind, or his breath freezing in his face.
He stood in the center of Patterson Park, wearing a thick jacket, even thicker gloves, wool hat, subzero hiking boots, and he still felt the ridiculous chill all the way down to his boxer briefs. Seriously. Who enjoyed wearing this much clothing just to walk outside?
Camera in hand, he carried out his duties as a photographer for Ash and his fiancée, Samantha.
Since Sam had passed the police academy and was now officially on the Baltimore City Police force, she’d been biting at the bit to get into any action on the streets she called home.
This was DEA territory, so should she have been anywhere near this case?
Hell no.
Was Ash whipped?
Hell yes.
Not that Luke was surprised. This wasn’t the first time Ash had lost his head over his fiancée. That big ole’ bull’s-eye on Luke’s back was because of his lovesick team leader’s need to protect Sam.
Tyke walked around the park with Thor, while Reese watched everything on video monitors inside a warm, cozy recon van down the street. The guy was probably sipping steaming coffee right now.
Another sharp blast of wind blew, but Luke resisted the urge to shudder. Instead he took a few photos of the couple in what he referred to as the typical prom pic. Ash stood behind Sam, arms around her trim waist, heads cradled together, stupid giddy grins on both their faces with a corny winter landscape behind them.
“No visual confirmation,” Luke murmured, peering over Ash’s shoulder at the group of four teens they’d come to the park to bust. Ronan had just pulled what was assumed to be drugs out of his pocket, but before the team could move in, they needed to confirm it. Another kid wasn’t going to die on their watch.
Joaquin Estobar stood a head taller than the other three suspects, fitting as he was also the oldest of the group at twenty years old. Tattoos crawled up his neck onto the back of his skull, where his hat covered the rest.
He’d joined Hermandad Eterna—or Eternal Brotherhood—at sixteen and was the main face on the street in charge of drug sales and overseeing the gang’s dealers.
Ronan Cortez positioned to Joaquin’s left, wore a black, flat-billed baseball hat, black puffy coat, baggy jeans, and white sneakers. Looking down at whatever was in his hand, he smirked.
Luke twisted the zoom lens on the camera to get a better glance at Ronan’s hand. “Still can’t get a clear shot.”
Ash and Sam readjusted. Sam placed her back on the trunk of the snow-covered tree, while Ash faced Sam and therefore the group of teens, resting his palm against her cheek and looking over her shoulder.
“I don’t have a view, either,” Tyke said into their earpieces.
“Stay tight,” Ash murmured. “No one moves until we see exactly what’s in his hand.” Pause. “I repeat—do not move in until we have visual confirmation of the package. I’m not blowing months of work because we jumped the gun and went on suspicion.”
Luke adjusted his knit hat, signaling that he heard Ash’s command. They’d worked too hard for this. They couldn’t risk tipping off the teens. Too much was at stake.
Man, these assignments sucked. Each one got more difficult to sit back and watch young men throw their lives away over a quick sale or some misplaced sense of friendship. Life blew a big one, no doubt. Luke knew that better than anyone. But your circumstances didn’t define you. What you did with them and the choices you made did. Luke had managed to change his life for the better, despite his shitty start. It was a shame these boys didn’t see the potential in themselves as well.
Ronan had racked up a long list of minor infractions beginning at age twelve—breaking and entering. Assault. Theft. With Hermandad Eterna, his role was now recruiting new members. Targeting high school students, for fuck’s sake. It’s like the kid had a master’s degree in How to Spiral a Drain to Nowhere Fast.
Then there’s Eduardo—the thin, tan-skinned boy standing to Ronan’s left. Typical. An easy mark. Shitty student with a single mom who worked too much, living in a bad neighborhood surrounded by corruption and temptation.
Eduardo’s posture relaxed as he smiled and nodded. Ronan returned the gesture as if satisfied with the other boy’s reaction.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Ash said, sliding a section of Sam’s long blonde hair over her shoulder.
Ronan briefly glanced toward Ash, Sam, and Luke with a bland expression, then said something to Eduardo.
“Damn it,” Tyke said. “I can’t get a good look. Reese, Calder, you two got anything?”
“Negative,” came Reese’s reply.
“Come on, Ronan,” Luke mused. “Just take it out and show it off.”
He captured a few more pictures. Ronan, Eduardo, and Joaquin continued to smirk and nod at one another, while Miguel stared at his phone.
As Ash and Sam moved into their next lover’s pose, Luke caught movement to his left. A figure stood about seventy-five yards away wearing an oversize white parka, loose-fitting jeans, and snow boots. The person wasn’t very big—maybe five-five or five-six. He could’ve been a classmate of Eduardo and Miguel given his small build. Something about his movements didn’t seem right. He ducked and weaved behind trees as if trying to hide.
The guy stopped behind a wide oak at Luke’s nine o’clock. A line of trees and a large, ice-covered pond was positioned between the new guy and the teens. From where Luke stood, he could almost make out a side profile. Dark, wool hat under his hood pulled low on his forehead, covering his eyebrows. Big, mirrored ski goggles concealing his eyes. Thin, pointed nose and weak chin.
Ash must have se
en him, too, because he pulled Sam in for a tight hug and looked over her shoulder. “Anyone we know?”
“No idea,” Reese said into their earpiece. “I can’t get a clear view of his face.”
Was there anything the team could get a good view of today?
“Were we expecting anyone else?” Luke asked.
“No,” Ash responded. “Intel suggested it was just going to be those four.”
White coat guy peered around the tree through binoculars at the teens.
Binoculars.
So he wasn’t a welcome friend of anyone in the group. If he was, he would have walked right up. Instead, he seemed to be spying on them.
Ash put an arm around his fiancée’s shoulders. “Sam says he’s not BPD.”
If he wasn’t Baltimore City Police or DEA, who the hell was he?
Another dealer? Someone working for Serrano to make sure Ronan and Joaquin did their jobs? Another high school kid trying to scope out what Eduardo and Miguel were up to?
“Tyke,” Ash said.
“I’m on it.” His team member gave a gentle tug to Thor’s lead signaling the dog to head in the direction of their new visitor.
The person in question whirled behind the tree and hugged the binos to his chest.
“Wait,” Luke said, making Tyke and Thor pause. He shifted the scope of the camera to the left and zoomed in. The guy’s body radiated nerves. Luke could practically see him shaking beneath his thick clothing.
“What the hell are you up to, man?” Luke said under his breath.
Joaquin and his boys were too preoccupied to notice tree guy, but if the teens caught sight of him and his suspicious movements, they would scatter and therefore delay the mission even further.
He lowered the camera as a funny feeling crawled up his spine. Years in the DEA and Army Special Forces before that had taught him to trust his feelings, no matter how funny. The situation didn’t add up.
In Walked Trouble (Under Covers) Page 4