Dangerous Lines

by Moira Callahan

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2014 Moira Callahan

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-028-1

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: Laurie Temple

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  A big thank you to my readers for all the support you've given throughout this series. You have been absolutely fantastic, and I could not have done this without you.

  To my wonderful editor, Ms. Laurie, you amaze me. You keep me on track, give wonderful praise, and make me smile with your enthusiasm for these characters I love so much. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  DANGEROUS LINES

  C&M Security, 3

  Moira Callahan

  Copyright © 2014

  Prologue

  Three months ago...

  “Hey, Vinny,” a familiar, husky voice called out.

  Knowing only one female that would ever have the cojones to call him that, he turned. Yup. The one and only. Early as well. Odd for her. “Hey, Ro, how’s it going?” he asked as she sidled up next to him.

  “Good,” she said with a grin. “Managed to nail that worthless piece of shit finally. Thanks for the info, by the by.”

  “Always happy to help someone masquerading as a lady,” he teased back. While he and Rhonda Delacour hadn’t always gotten along at the start, their mutual adoration of his boss’s new wife, Tamara, had helped them develop a pretty good friendship. The fact that Rhonda was smoking hot didn’t hurt either. Gorgeous reddish-brown hair, dark green eyes, dimples and five-feet-eight inches of awesome. She also had legs that went on forever, the sort of legs a man fantasized about having wrapped around his waist as he fucked her long and slow.

  “Ha, ha,” she muttered before punching his arm. Only sheer will kept him from flinching. A guy had a reputation to protect after all. But his darling little Ro did not hit like a girl. “You going to the barbecue this weekend?” she asked as they shuffled forward in line on their quest for caffeinated beverages.

  “Of course,” he said shooting her a look. “Mallory’s doing the sauce and all the other goodies,” he told her. Mallory, engaged to one of his friends and coworkers, was also a professional chef that regularly had to tell people no when they offered her the world. She loved working at Carmelo’s, a high-end classy little joint, and the fact that she was close to work and living with her man, Trent.

  “Shit, seriously?” Rhonda asked. At his nod, she groaned. “Damn it all to hell and back.”

  “What’s the big deal?” he asked, knowing there had to be something going on with that reaction.

  They shuffled ahead as she let out a weighty sigh. “I’ve got this huge case right now. Big, humongous, out of this world even. Shitty part is I may be undercover on this one.” She mumbled for his ears only, by the quiet in her voice.

  While not a soul, even her best friends or mother, would recognize her when in character, even if they were right next to her, it paid to be careful. Hell, she'd walked right up to him on one of her undercover gigs and he hadn’t had a clue. Which said something for a guy that very nearly panted after her every chance he got.

  Vincent shrugged as they reached the counter. After placing their orders, and paying, they waited on their coffees. “Tell me where you’ll be at and I’ll make sure you get a plate.”

  “Seriously? You’d do that?” she asked, clearly stunned.

  Hell yeah, he’d do it. He’d do a lot more, but he wasn’t going there just yet. “Of course. Give me the details, and Operation Smuggling-In-Food will commence,” he said with a grin. When their drinks were called out he collected them, letting her choose a spot in the cafe.

  Settling down, he took a couple sips of his coffee and sighed happily. “So, what’s the case?”

  She gave a lazy looking shrug, but he knew better. Vincent could read the tension pouring off her. “We’ve been digging into this asshole’s life after getting word from our CI’s that he’s looking to become the next big mover and shaker in town. The bosses, of course, want to know who he is, where he goes and what sort of tissue he uses when he has the sniffles. All the usual crap. Which we’ve been working on for the last year. He’s now looking to hire a few people. Apparently he has some openings after a thorough house cleaning. Several of his key guys are suddenly nowhere to be found, and lower level guys are being shuffled up. What we don’t know is his overall plan. Word out on the street is fucking tight about this guy. Breadcrumbs right now.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. “That’s gotta make it rough.”

  “Yeah, to say the least.” Rhonda checked her surroundings again before continuing. Always on duty, always aware, but he knew well enough that’s sometimes the only way you survived when your life might be on the line each moment.

  “He’s looking for some new muscle. One of my fellow officers and I have been building up our street creds and got an invite to meet with him. He’s an equal opportunity boss apparently, in all ways. So we’re hoping at least one of us gets hired. That way we’ll have our eyes, and ears, on the inside where we might finally learn something of use.”

  “Well, hell.” Vincent stared at her over his coffee cup. “So this could be a long time gig, potentially.”

  “Yeah. Listen, the reason I asked you to meet me is, I need a non-department handler. Someone these guys won’t instantly peg as being a cop. I figured you might be interested,” she looked at him.

  “That’s more than a little unusual, isn’t it?”

  She nodded and shrugged all at the same time. “Yeah, but we need to keep this as loose as possible. Plus, with your training, you should be okay. The brass has okayed it, if you are all right with it. I know, typically, you’re the guy to blow shit up and whatnot. I’ve overheard enough in the last year to know that’s not all you can do.” She grinned at him and wiggled her eyebrows.

  Since he wasn’t sure what she meant, and really wasn’t sure if he wanted to know, he ignored her. “What would I need to do?”

  “We’d rent you a suitable apartment for your part, on the department of course. You would need to supply your own vehicle though. They wouldn’t go for that, sorry. You are an old friend, we’ve known each other for years and years. You were in the Corps, got out with a general discharge, and then got into some shady business. You haven’t been caught because you’re that good. Mainly you deal in high-end explosives, alarm systems and such, basically what you do now but think more dark side of the force.”

  Snickering at her Star Wars reference, he tipped his cup her way before taking a drink.

  “We’d meet twice a week unless I needed to come in for something specific. We’ll have clean phones, burners one and all, for communications. We talk once a day for sure, just to check in, and pass along anything of importance. We will need to work on a series of code words. Things for all good, not too bad, something’s happening, oh shit, and my personal favorite, we are completely and totally fubar’ed.”

  Ah, yes. Fucked up beyond all recognition. That one was great. In the sense that it was the one you never, ever wanted to have to give a code for. “Hey, I’m up for anything. When’s your interview?”

  “Saturday,” she muttered, making a face. “That’s why I’m not sure I’ll make the barbecue.”

>   “Makes sense. Even if you do get through it, you don’t want to chance leading anyone to a group party of C&M Security staffers.”

  “Bingo,” she said tipping her cup.

  “I’m in, Ro. We should get started sooner than later. I’ll also need to switch out my vehicles since I won’t be using my truck, my new truck I should say, for this gig. I’d kill them all if it so much as got one bullet hole in it. I’ll need to see the apartment, assess what I need to bring in, set up my cover there and generally just move in. Shit, I’ll have to get Trent to watch my place,” he muttered, more to himself than her.

  “Why?” she asked.

  It took him a second to figure out the question. “I’ve got painters doing some outside work as well as a new roof going on next week. It’s nothing major, and all outdoors. He’ll just have to swing by after work and take a look to ensure they aren’t fucking me over.”

  She nodded slowly and then stuck out her hand. Reaching over the table, he shook her hand, taking a moment to enjoy the softness of her skin before letting go. “Welcome aboard, partner,” she grinned at him.

  “Thanks, I think,” he said shaking his head. He had a feeling that this was going to be one hell of an interesting job.

  Chapter One

  Three days ago…

  Knocking on the door, Rhonda flicked a stray piece of hair over her shoulder. Tapping her toes lightly, she tried not to fidget, but damn she hated waiting out in the open. The sound of the deadbolt being thrown open a moment later helped.

  Rhonda shot a look up at him as she swept into the apartment, not relaxing until Vincent closed and bolted the door behind her. Letting out a breath, she yanked the newsboy cap off her head, tugged the clip out holding her hair up, and scraped her nails along her scalp.

  “What’s up?” Vincent asked coming toward her.

  “Just the usual, paranoia running rampant,” she told him as she tossed her hat and the clip onto the coffee table. Following him to the kitchen, she hopped up onto one of the stools at the little cafe-style table in the corner.

  Vincent shot her a look as he poured two cups of coffee. He passed her one before settling across from her. “So, I thought we weren’t meeting until tomorrow?”

  That had been the plan. Until word had come down from her “boss” about her needing to be on hand for some security for him the next day. “Yeah, well, Donny said all hands were needed on deck tomorrow.” Rhonda shrugged.

  Donald “Donny” Hoffman was head of security for the scumbag she and the police department were trying to take down. One Gabriel Moreau, head scumbag in San Francisco for a cartel rumored to be out of Brazil. Unfortunately, they weren’t exactly the talkative sorts so Rhonda didn’t know what was truth and what was bullshit. All she knew for sure was they appeared to be buying up legit businesses. She was certain it was to launder money from their illegal activities. Unfortunately there was no proof yet what their illegal activities were.

  She couldn’t even get them on extortion at the moment because they were paying fair market values on the businesses and properties. Hell, in most cases, they were paying above and beyond fair market value. The owners of the businesses being bought had nothing bad to say either. They all said that Mr. Moreau asked to purchase their business, offered a very fair or above fair value, and that was it. No arm twisting, no extortion, no blackmail. Fucking Moreau was a fucking angel in their eyes. Which wasn’t helping her case any.

  “Any idea why?” Vincent asked as she sipped the strong-brewed coffee in her cup. Damn, the man knew how to make good coffee.

  “Nope,” she said shaking her head. “All I know for sure is that we’re to be dressed business appropriate,” she told him as she eyed him up. He was a damn fine specimen. Six-feet-six-inches of solid muscle and sex appeal. Shaggy, sandy brown hair that constantly fell into his blue eyes and begged a woman to brush it away. He was also the type of man that could get away without shaving every day and look all the better for it. That and the little cleft in his chin made for one killer package that sent the ladies wild.

  In Moreau’s world business appropriate meant everyone would be in tailored suits, their shoes shined, and not a hair out of place.

  “Shit,” Vincent muttered, pretty much echoing her own thoughts. “I’m betting you have no idea where it’s going down or when?”

  “The where is supposedly a restaurant downtown, the when is any time after ten in the morning. We’re all to be ready to roll by nine-thirty, Donny’s going to be giving us the rundown and instructions at our meeting then. We were told not to pack any weapons though,” she said. “Which likely means either Donny will be giving us our weapons or we’re actually going in bare.”

  “Damn it, Rhonda. I don’t like this. At all.” He glared at her.

  She knew he wasn’t actually pissed at her, just the situation. She was fully on board with that. This fucking gig was seriously starting to suck ass. “I know,” she said with a sigh. “It’s not like I can demand answers, Vincent. I’m low man, sorry, woman on the totem pole around there. I am expected to keep my mouth shut and do whatever they tell me to do.”

  She watched his lips twitch before he moved his coffee cup up to hide his lower face. Not fast enough, though. She saw the grin. “What?”

  “You actually keep your mouth shut?” he asked, smirking openly at her now.

  “Ha, ha, jackass.” Rhonda had to grin though, too. It went completely against her nature. She wasn’t one to just keep quiet. “Yes, I keep my mouth shut. I actually learn quite a bit when I’m pretending to be part of the decor. Not what I want to learn, but I definitely do hear a lot. They completely ignore those of us in the security detail. We’re pretty much ornaments unless there’s a threat, then we’re the wall they hide behind.”

  “So what have you learned since last we talked?”

  “Sadly, not much. It’s been pretty fucking quiet of late. It’s mostly been meetings between Moreau, his lawyers, and some real estate guys. From what I’ve managed to piece together, he’s buying up some interesting spots.” Digging in her pocket she pulled out a map. Unfolding it, she pointed to the spots she’d marked down on it. “He’s got about six lots he’s bought on the waterfront, here.”

  Leaning in, Vincent frowned. “Good place to smuggle in goods,” he said, shooting her a quick look.

  “Yeah, that was my thought too. The properties cover just enough turf that they could put security here, and here.” She pointed to the spots on the map. “Basically cordoning off the area to do drops or to send shit out without anyone being the wiser.”

  Vincent nodded slowly. “You’d never be able to get surveillance in there either. Not with how the buildings are positioned. You’d have to set up too far out to get anything worthwhile.”

  “He’s looking at this property as well,” she told him pointing to another spot on the waterfront. “If he gets it, he’s got the perfect spot for trafficking of all sorts by water.”

  “He won’t get it,” Vincent told her.

  “You can’t know that,” Rhonda protested.

  “Actually I can,” he said with a chuckle. “Shawn owns all of these lots. C&M is right here,” he said, putting his finger on the map.

  “Oh!” Well, hell, she hadn’t realized that. “Son of a bitch, you’re right.”

  “I usually am,” he said in a smug manner.

  That didn’t deserve an answer so she ignored him. “Moreau is doing this all on the up and up so he won’t be breaking kneecaps or twisting arms to get it. He’ll put in three offers before backing away.”

  Vincent pulled out his phone and made a call, setting it down between them. “Shawn,” he said when the line was picked up with a gruff “what?” “It’s Vincent and Rhonda, I have you on speaker, just so you know.”

  “Hey, Ro,” Shawn said.

  “How’s my girl?” Rhonda asked with a grin.

  “She’s doing great, off taking pictures of God only knows what right now. I’ll let her know you
called.”

  “Listen, Shawn, this is about Ro’s case she’s on,” Vincent said.

  “You mean the one she conned you into helping her with?” Shawn’s voice sounded amused. He was getting a kick out of Vincent being her bitch on this case.

  “Yeah. Have you had any recent offers to purchase the Worthington property of late?” Vincent asked him.

  There was nothing but silence for a moment. “Yeah, two days ago, why?” Shawn now sounded extremely suspicious.

  “Because that’s my bad guy,” Rhonda spoke up again. “He’s looking to get a healthy chunk of the waterfront. He’s already got six lots right on the water, and is looking to buy two more on each end of that chunk. One apparently is yours, the other he’s making his first offer on in two days. I think he’s waiting to see where you go on it,” she told him.

  “Well, I’m not fucking selling,” Shawn said. “Ro, do I need to worry about this guy?” he asked.

  “No, he’s doing all the property buys completely on the up and up. No extortion or threats of any kind. It’s the legit face to whatever the fuck he’s up to. Shawn,” she said before trailing off. “Don’t let Tamara do any shoots down there for the next while will you? I’ll have Vincent send you the addresses of the places he’s already bought to warn her away from. I doubt there’s anything going on down there yet, but—”

  “Better safe than sorry,” Shawn finished for her. “I’ll warn her off. She’s worried about you, Ro. Wants to know when the fuck you’re coming to dinner next. Even Mallory’s asking about you, something about a new chocolate soufflé something or other.”

  Rhonda’s mouth began to water. Mallory, engaged to another C&M employee, Trent, was an amazing chef. She’d recently been experimenting with more dessert style main course items. They were all so fucking good.