by Carsen Taite
Peyton turned to Bianca. “Isn’t this the agent who executed the warrant on Cyrus’s office?”
“She was one of the agents that was there,” Bianca said. “But she wasn’t aware of the circumstances. Now she’s the lead agent working with Mr. Gellar on the case.”
“Dale, Bianca, I’d like to talk to you inside,” Peyton said. “Agent Cohen, I’m sorry to be inhospitable, but if you could wait on the porch, we’ll be right back.” She didn’t wait for an answer before she stalked off into the house. Dale motioned to Bianca to follow and she brought up the rear. When they were inside, Peyton pulled up short in the entryway and turned to face them. “Not cool, bringing someone else here. This is my home. Lily is here, and that woman was one of the agents that grilled her about her father’s business dealings. I get that we probably need to work with her, but at the office, in court. Anywhere but here.”
Bianca started to respond, but Dale broke in first. “It was my idea. We have a plan that involves Agent Cohen, and we thought it would be best to talk to you both at the same time about it.”
Peyton shook her head. “I’m afraid any new plans need to be put on hold for now. I need your help. Sophia came over this afternoon and she’s here now. She received a threat. Against Lily. Graphic and violent. I was hoping we could spend tonight’s card game focused on that instead of the rest of the case.”
Dale looked at Bianca who nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that, Peyton, but actually that kind of fits right in with what we were thinking. If Sophia’s here, we’d like to talk to her. If you really have an objection to Agent Cohen, we’ll figure something else out, but Cruz here thinks she can be trusted.”
“Tanner Cohen?”
Everyone turned at the sound of Lily’s voice. Dale hadn’t heard her enter the room, but she was standing in the doorway to the living room, dressed in riding clothes. She waited for Peyton to answer.
“Yes,” Peyton said. “But don’t worry; she’s leaving.”
Lily stepped forward and slid her arm around Peyton’s waist. “I remember her. Two agents asked me questions at my father’s office. One of them was a complete jerk and the other was very kind. I think Tanner’s good people, Peyton. Trust your friends.”
Dale watched as Peyton turned into Lily’s arms and searched her face like she was looking for guidance. She remembered the strong pull of a beautiful woman, and the power they could wield over the ones that loved them. She’d have done anything for Maria. If only she’d been able to trade places with her that fateful morning.
“Okay,” Peyton said. “If you two vouch for her, bring her in.”
A few minutes later, Mary arrived and they all congregated around the kitchen table, cards dealt and chips stacked to keep up the appearances of a heated poker game. Peyton started the meeting by having Sophia explain what had happened. As Dale listened to her account of returning to the house to find a threat painted in blood on her front door, she couldn’t help but look between the woman and her daughter, Lily. The resemblance was striking, and she was probably seeing in Sophia how Lily would look in twenty years.
“What did the message say?” Dale asked. She directed her question to Sophia who grasped her daughter’s hand before answering.
“It said: Muerta de los Lily. Death to Lily.”
“Nothing else?”
“Did it need to be more specific?” Peyton said. “It’s pretty clear to me they are targeting anyone having anything to do with Cyrus.”
Dale cracked her knuckles as she considered how to respond without pissing Peyton off. “I guess I’m just wondering what the ‘or what’ is. I mean, why just death to Lily? Seems like Sergio might have a request, and then if he were denied, he would threaten to hurt the one thing that would be most precious to the person he was asking the favor from. In this case, he came to Sophia. My read is he wants something from her and that will be the next communication.” She looked over at Bianca who nodded. “In that regard, Cruz and I have a plan.” She laid out the plan Bianca had concocted. “I’ll confess we came here tonight ready to tell you this idea, and I was a little skeptical, but now I’m convinced it’s the best way to lure Sergio out of hiding.”
Sophia didn’t hesitate. “I’ll do it.”
Dale spotted Peyton shaking her head, but she ignored her for the moment and turned to Tanner. “Cohen, you on board with this? We’re going to need your help. If Ms. Valencia is going to be a CI, you’re going to have to shield her from prosecution. Only the folks around this table can know what’s really going on, and it may take a while for her to earn Sergio’s trust.”
She watched while Tanner looked around the table, like she was sizing up the group. She had to realize they were all top-notch talent, and if they were bucking the system, then there was a damn good reason for it. Finally, Tanner’s gaze rested on Peyton and she said, “I’m in if Peyton’s in.”
It was exactly the right thing to say since it showed deference and insight into the dynamics of the group. All eyes were focused on Peyton now, but she spoke only to Sophia. “We might not be able to protect you. We’ll have to leave the threat you just received unreported because it won’t make sense that you’re visiting Arturo in jail if he just threatened you. If he doesn’t believe your story, he will have no choice but to eliminate you.” She turned to Lily. “Or you. Do you realize what they are asking me to do? Both of your lives could be in grave danger.”
“Our lives are already in danger, but this is a chance to act instead of hide from it,” Lily said. “If you believe in these people, then so do I. I’m betting Sophia feels the same way.”
“I do,” Sophia said. “Peyton, you must know that no one is better acquainted with the cruelty of my brothers than me. I know the risk and I accept it.” She directed her next words to Dale. “Everything I have ever done has been to protect my daughter, and that will not change now. Just tell me what to do.”
Dale and Bianca described the specifics of the plan. Sophia would go to see Arturo the following day at the Seagoville Federal Detention Center outside of Dallas. She’d describe her troubles and give him enough vague details to get him to put her in touch with Sergio. And then they would wait. Peyton asked Dale to be in charge of keeping an eye on Sophia to make sure nothing happened to her.
“Can you dodge your Hollywood film crew long enough to stay on top of things?” Peyton asked Dale.
“They’re from New York, and yes. There’s nothing I’d rather do.” She meant it. Lindsey Ryan was trouble, but all she needed to do was stick to the script and soon they’d be gone. Back to New York where they’d piece together the most boring piece of PR in history. The Take-Back Initiative event was on Saturday, and she couldn’t imagine they would be here longer than that.
She experienced a twinge of regret at the realization. In another time, another place, under other circumstances, she would’ve wanted to explore the attraction, but letting Lindsey get close seemed as much a betrayal as an impossibility. Her focus was best left to her work where she knew what she was doing and could tally the results. Being around Lindsey left her feeling out of her element.
An hour later, she drove the graveled road out of the ranch, deep in thought. The next day’s itinerary for Lindsey’s crew was fairly light, but she still needed a ready excuse to get away to accompany Sophia to the prison in the morning. She wasn’t going inside with her, only keeping an eye out to make sure they weren’t followed either coming or going. She’d promised Peyton she’d keep her safe, and she fully intended to keep that promise.
When she reached the highway, she spotted a car pull out of the gully on the side of the road and drive off in the opposite direction. There was nothing particularly odd about the car itself—it was a dark colored sedan with Texas plates, but she experienced a twinge of recognition. That and the fact that it had been parked by the turnoff to the ranch had her thinking. She stared into the rearview mirror and jotted down the plate number on the pad of paper she kept in the console. As the ca
r faded out of sight, she called DPD officer Andrea DeJesus.
“DeJesus, here.”
“Andrea, it’s Dale Nelson. I was hoping you might be able to do me a favor.”
“For you, anything.”
Dale did her best to ignore the sexy undercurrent in Andrea’s voice, but the memory of Lindsey’s words echoed in her ears: Careful, you’re making her blush. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, but she didn’t want to wait to find out who had been lurking around the Davis ranch, especially since she’d promised Peyton she would protect her family. “It’s probably nothing, but I was hoping you could run a plate. It’s for a friend, so if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, I totally understand.”
“Say no more. Give it to me.”
Dale read off the plate number.
“Got it. Call you right back.”
Dale had only driven a few more miles when her phone rang. “Nelson.”
“I got the info,” Andrea said, “but it’s not real helpful. It’s a rental car. Registered to Enterprise. I can run it down further if you have a little time.”
Dale considered taking advantage of the request, but the tone of Andrea’s voice signaled she might be sending the wrong message if she asked for more favors. “No, that’s okay. It’s probably nothing. Thanks for your help.”
“I’m here anytime you need me. Anytime.”
Dale winced at the not so subtle emphasis in Andrea’s tone, but she kept her voice calm and got off the phone as quickly as possible. She was probably just being paranoid, about the car, about Andrea’s flirting, about everything. She’d been on edge all week and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, her moods had started shifting with the appearance of Lindsey Ryan. Swinging from excited to annoyed and back again, she didn’t understand how this woman could hold such a strong sway over her feelings. Just a few more days and Lindsey would be gone, and then she wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. Even that revelation gave her mixed feelings, and she needed something to distract her. The plan to lure Sergio out of hiding couldn’t have come at a better time.
*
“Do you think she spotted us?” Alice asked.
Lindsey looked back and watched the taillights of Dale’s truck fade into the distance. “She probably saw the car for sure, but I doubt she realizes it’s us. Why would she? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
After she’d left Elaina’s room, Lindsey had phoned a contact the network used to dig up background information who was known for his discretion. She’d asked him to prepare a dossier on Dale. If Dale was going to be the hook for this story, she wanted to know everything: her family, her friends—past and present, what she did for fun. Within an hour, she had her hands on some preliminary information, but the rest would take some time. On a whim, she’d told Alice to grab her equipment and they drove to the address the investigator had given her for Dale’s home.
Dale’s apartment building was older and nondescript, but it was clean and it appeared to be well maintained. The individual units were only accessible through two locked security doors, and one of those doors was located in a tenant only parking garage. They’d circled the building a couple of times to get a feel for the place when Lindsey had spotted Dale’s truck parked on the street. “I bet she plans to go out again.”
“What do you want to do?” Alice asked.
Following Dale around town felt like borderline stalking, but Lindsey was compelled to know more about her, although she wasn’t entirely convinced she was only digging for the sake of the story.
Maybe they should go back to the hotel. She could wait for the file from the investigator and learn what she needed from the paperwork. She had been about to tell Alice that when she saw Dale walk out the door of the building and head to her truck. She ducked down in her seat and made a snap decision. “Let’s see where she goes.”
Following Dale’s truck out to the country might have been a stupid move, but she’d managed to gather a lot of information during the trip. An Internet search of county records revealed her destination was a piece of property called the Circle Six Ranch, owned by Raymond and Helen Davis. When she dug a little deeper, she discovered Raymond and Helen had a daughter named Peyton who was an assistant United States Attorney, working in the Northern District. She also discovered Peyton was engaged in a lawsuit against her brother Neil and Gantry Oil—a temporary injunction having to do with drilling rights at the ranch.
On its own, what she’d learned wasn’t much, but on a hunch she had her contact run the plate of the car that had turned into the ranch right after Dale. The sportster belonged to Bianca Cruz, the AUSA they’d met that morning, and she didn’t think it was a coincidence that a DEA agent was meeting with two AUSAs outside of the office. When she’d shared her hunch with Alice, she’d suggested they wait for a while.
Now it was an hour later, and Lindsey was certain Dale had spotted their car. As they raced down the road, she could only hope the dark night hid their identity.
“What now?” Alice asked.
“Good question.” Lindsey considered her options. She wanted to find out everything she could about Bianca Cruz and Peyton Davis, but it was pretty unlikely they would be able to mine resources until the next day. Which left Dale as the only subject of her curiosity left to explore. She made a split-second decision. “I need you to drop me off on your way back to the hotel.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dale unlocked her apartment and walked the few feet to the kitchen where she fished in the fridge for a beer. She’d have one and then try to sleep since she’d have to be up early the next day to put the plan they’d hatched into motion. She was halfway through the bottle when she heard a knock on the door. The clock on the stove read nine p.m.—late for an unexpected visitor. When she peered out the viewfinder and saw Lindsey Ryan, unexpected was an understatement.
It was late and she was tired, but she couldn’t deny the surge of anticipation at the sight of Lindsey standing outside her door. She’d changed out of the suit she’d worn earlier and was dressed in dark jeans and a rich looking burgundy V-neck sweater. Probably cashmere, probably designer. She shook her head. Her law enforcement training meant she was acutely aware of descriptive details, but lately it seemed she was obsessed with every facet of Lindsey’s appearance, and it had nothing to do with her work. She schooled her features into what she hoped was a nonchalant expression.
Lindsey’s hand was raised to knock again, and she looked startled when Dale opened the door. “What’s the matter?” Dale asked. “Some late night filming emergency?”
“If I said yes, would you invite me in to talk about it?”
She was definitely quick on her feet, and Dale made a mental note to be careful. Lindsey’s ability to improvise might be admirable on screen but could pose a problem if she decided to turn her investigating skills to something other than the story her network had assigned. She glanced back inside her apartment. Except for the day she’d been released from the hospital, she hadn’t spent much time here during the past few weeks, so the place was relatively clean and uncluttered, but the real reason for her hesitation was not knowing the true reason for Lindsey’s visit. Curiosity won out and she swung the door wide. “I’m having a beer. Join me?”
“A beer would be great. Thanks.”
Dale pulled another bottle from the fridge and twisted the cap off before handing it over. She watched, transfixed, as Lindsey took a long pull and then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The simple act was so unassuming and so completely sexy, and she couldn’t help but like her more. “Thirsty?”
“Actually yes. PR is hard work.”
Lindsey’s tone carried a slight edge of sarcasm, and Dale figured she was trying to provoke a reaction. Since she had no idea where Lindsey was headed or why she was here, she kept her response even. “I imagine it is. Especially if it means you have to make night visits to your contact. I assume you’re here about the story, right?”
Now it
was Lindsey’s turn to maintain composure. Dale could almost see her mind ticking through the options: tell the truth, make up a story, or settle for something in between. When Lindsey’s features finally settled, Dale was convinced she was going to dissemble.
“Yes, it’s the story.”
“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“I suppose it could, but I didn’t want to wait. I didn’t want to take a chance on catching you off guard tomorrow.”
Dale’s antennae went up and she struggled to keep the edge out of her voice as she asked, “Any particular reason I should have my guard up?”
Lindsey cocked her head like she was trying to assess hidden meaning behind Dale’s question, but Dale gave her nothing. Lindsey had shown up here, at her home, for no real reason she could discern. The very fact Lindsey knew where she lived was disturbing enough, but now she was implying there was some reason she should be worried about the story. All her training dictated she should be on alert, but her instincts also told her she would get more information by letting her guard down. She settled on diversion as a way to get the most out of this encounter. “Would you like to have a seat?”
“Sure. Lead the way.”
Dale led Lindsey the few steps from the kitchen to the living room where a plain tan couch and matching chair comprised the only real furniture in the place. Her television was mounted on the wall and two folding TV tables were the only other accessories in the room. She watched Lindsey’s eyes sweep the room, certain she was noting every detail of her ascetic lifestyle, and she tried not to care what Lindsey thought even as she felt the need to explain. “I have a lot of stuff in storage. Not sure how long I’m staying here.”
“I get it. I put all my stuff in storage and sublet my place when I went overseas. Now I’m home, but I don’t have a home.”
She got that Lindsey was only making small talk, but it wasn’t the same. Lindsey going to Afghanistan was a choice. When she’d left the home that had turned into a crime scene, it had been a necessity. The crime scene techs had spent several days after the shooting combing through every inch of the house and yard, looking for clues about Maria’s killers. Dale had spent those nights at Mary’s house. Mary was the only one she’d trusted to witness her breakdown that had occurred in spurts, in between answering questions about Maria’s enemies and planning her funeral.