by Robin Perini
Dirtbags, like the three musketeers, made Gabe’s stomach turn. They acted like saints in the bar, but Gabe knew better. His gaze moved from one face to the next, ticking them off his mental list. Maybe Ernie’s info tonight would nail one and Gabe could feel like a real cop again.
He glanced at his watch. “Five minutes to stools up.”
His announcement brought groans, but most finished their drinks and started bundling up to face the freezing temperatures outside.
Hawk cleared the dirty glasses and hauled them into the kitchen.
Soon the place would be empty.
Hawk’s taillights headed down the street and away from the closed bar. Gabe watched from the shadows, making sure the ex-spy was well out of sight. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his down parka.
No birds chattered this time of year. A few engines sounded from the road, the occasional horn, but mostly the streets had gone quiet in this neck of Denver.
Shifting his stance to ease the ache in his leg, Gabe searched for movement. He tried to concentrate while he waited for Ernie, but his thoughts drifted to Deb Lansing. This attraction to Deb was crazy. Could a woman with a seeming death wish and a burned-out vermin catcher with a bum leg and no dreams left, find anything in common? Somehow, he doubted it.
He’d caught her watching him on occasion. She’d seen him limp across the floor, and her eyes had flashed with pity. He wanted to shed the role he played, but he couldn’t. So he let her feel sorry for him even if it stuck in his craw.
To Gabe’s right, a shadowy figure ducked behind the trash bin. Gabe tensed and eased sideways, adjusting his stance, his hand behind him, ready to draw his weapon.
“Psst. SWAT.”
The nasal tone and familiar nickname had Gabe relaxing his fingers. Ernie.
“You’re late and I’m freezing my ass off. Hope you have something decent this time. Your last tip led nowhere. I don’t give second chances.”
Ernie nosed out from behind the bin, dragging his right leg behind him. “I was . . . unavoidably detained.”
“What happened?” Gabe asked.
The snitch shrugged. “Walked into a door . . . tripped down some stairs. Take your pick. They all work.”
When the parking lot light hit Ernie’s face, Gabe winced. The guy’s skin was a rainbow of bruises, and one eye was swollen shut. “You need a doctor?”
“No, but a bag of ice and something to eat would be good. I missed dinner . . . and lunch, come to think of it,” Ernie said, his expression full of hope. He climbed over a small snowbank, his limp obvious as he approached. “At least I can walk on this leg now. Thought I was gonna be on crutches.”
Gabe shook his head. Ernie would do anything for a buck, but he’d come through a few times, so Gabe would humor him. He kept hoping Ernie would spill something big on Gasmerati or Tower and ask for protection. Poor guy was like the town punching bag for bad guys, and one of these times he wouldn’t recover from their torment.
“Hold on. I’ll be back in a minute. Stay hidden.” Gabe retreated, making his way across the lot and into the bar’s kitchen. He grabbed a baggie and filled it with ice, then snagged the sandwich he’d made for himself and stuffed it into a paper bag.
Ernie would never come inside the bar. Said he couldn’t be seen in a cop hangout. This was already too close for the snitch’s liking.
“Here you go.” Gabe walked over to the log pile where Ernie had planted himself and handed him the ice and the dinner.
The snitch’s onyx and gold ring flashed as he pressed the baggie to his swollen eye, the purple, green, and yellow mottling his skin evident in the faint light.
He opened the bag and rammed half the sandwich in his mouth. “Thanks,” he muttered, his words garbled by the huge bite. He chewed some more, swallowed, and looked up at Gabe. “Got something good for you . . . if the price is right. This is the real deal, Montgomery.”
Gabe lifted a brow. “You said that last time—”
“I know. I know, but even I get taken in by liars sometimes. This info’s for real, from my own personal experience.” Ernie looked around suddenly. “Hey, did you hear something?”
Gabe stilled, listening for a minute. “No.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” Ernie’s head whipped back and forth, sniffing the air, like a rodent trying to sense an approaching cat. He bit his lip. “Yeah. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.”
Gabe went on full alert. His gut was telling him he needed this information, and he didn’t want Ernie taking off. Then again, he didn’t want Ernie dead, either. But, damn it, Gabe wanted to take down Tower and the mob bosses he ran with. “You staying or going?”
Ernie pulled a knife out of his pocket and passed it back and forth between jittery hands, his gaze still searching the shadows.
Gabe forced himself not to take the snitch down with a quick twist of an arm. Knives had that effect on him lately.
Finally, Ernie spoke again. “Guess I’m just getting jumpy. Look, I like you, Montgomery. You and your brother Zach saved my life when Tiny and his thugs came after me. I’d have been cougar food in the Rockies by now, so I figure I owe you.”
“I’m listening,” Gabe said.
Ernie scratched his nose. “You know sometimes, I . . . uh . . . courier a few specialty items for Gasmerati.”
Gabe stiffened at the name he knew all too well. And not just because of his current op. Jeff Gasmerati had been cousin to Gabe’s best friend and SWAT teammate, Steve Paretti. Gabe would love to beat the crap out of the traitor, but the guy was already dead.
Steve Paretti might have done the right thing in the end, but that didn’t excuse the lies and treachery that almost cost Gabe half of his family.
Nothing did.
“Something big’s going on,” Ernie said. “Gasmerati’s throwing around wads of cash like he grows it in his backyard.”
“Is he expanding the business?” Gabe asked, shifting on his injured leg.
“I think he’s going international, and he’s keeping it very hush-hush.” Ernie cocked his head. “Any of this worth something to you?”
“Could be.” Gabe shrugged, but his heart sped up. International meant big risks. Big risks meant big rewards, but also a chance to make federal charges stick. With luck, Gabe could nail Gasmerati and maybe even rope in Sheriff Tower and his flunkies, too. “Okay. Tell me everything and we’ll work out a price.”
Ernie looked around again, obviously nervous. “I was at Gasmerati’s building this afternoon, picking up a package to deliver. After I got it, I walked by Jeff’s office. Heard something weird, like an argument. Lots of tension in Gasmerati’s voice, so I slowed down and kind of took my time going past Jeff’s door.”
God bless the curious.
Ernie came closer, whispering the information so Gabe had to strain to hear. “Anyway, Gasmerati’s having it out with somebody on the speakerphone, but there’s another guy in the room with him. A translator, who keeps talking Russian, then repeating everything the guy on the phone says in English.”
Gabe straightened. Russian? Could Gasmerati have tapped the Russian mob? “What did you hear?”
“Something about a transfer of cash. Soon.” Ernie licked his lips. “They used the words billion dollars. Swear to God.”
Gabe let out a low whistle. “What else?”
“The Russian guy seemed upset about a car accident. Jeff said not to worry. He had law enforcement connections. Just then someone came walking into the hallway, and I bolted. I’ve already been on the bad end of too many fists lately for screwing up, so I got the hell out of there.”
And there was the first real proof—even if it was secondhand. Gabe leaned forward. “Did anyone mention where this accident was?”
“Yeah, near Taos. Someone found a bus that went off the road yesterday, but also spotted a car that these guys
apparently didn’t want found.”
A small gasp sounded from the side of the bar.
“Ernie, get out of here,” Gabe said sharply.
The snitch’s eyes widened. “Oh God. I’m dead.” He scurried away as fast as he could on his injured leg.
Glock in hand, Gabe eased around the corner of the building.
A figure in a ski jacket hurried toward the street. Gabe raced after it. He had to know who’d overheard his conversation.
Within seconds, he caught up. Gabe spun the person around, slammed the intruder against the brick wall, then tore off the hood. Auburn hair spilled out over the jacket. “Deb? What are you doing back here at two in the morning?”
“Apparently, getting molested by you.” The frigid wind whipped her hair across her face. She looked deathly pale, despite the fact her cheeks were red with cold.
“Hey, you’re the one lurking outside the bar.” He studied her face. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought I wanted to talk to you. Now I’m not so sure.”
“If you wanted to talk to me, why didn’t you just use the phone?”
She scowled, shifting against him. His body went taut, suddenly aware of the soft curves pressed against him and the strength lying underneath that softness. He cleared his throat and stepped back. Her pupils dilated and his heart skipped a beat. He wanted to peel off his gloves and touch her skin, feel her pulse to see if his reaction was one-sided, but then her face turned to stone.
“I was on my way to the sheriff’s office,” she said. “When you crossed the parking lot . . . well, after all of your brother’s newspaper articles about bad cops and deputies, I was worried about who to trust. I thought . . .” She rushed on, “Look, I know you’re not a cop anymore. At least, I thought you weren’t until that guy—”
Gabe cut her off. “ ‘Until that guy’ what?”
She hesitated, more wary now, but not backing down. “I didn’t mean to overhear anything, but then he mentioned an accident on the way to Taos, in conjunction with a mobster. It shocked me. That’s the rescue tonight that got me grounded. Do you think the church bus was sabotaged? And, why would a Russian care about any of this?”
Damn good questions. He had to back her off from this line of thinking. Fast.
“I don’t know, but I’ll make sure the police check into your suspicions.” Yeah, she’d be sure to fall for that line. “It may be a different accident.”
“Do I look like I just got off the bus from the country?”
Gabe swore again. “Okay, I said I’ll look into it. Now, why were you heading to the station at this hour?”
At his question, all her bravado vanished. He’d never seen quite that expression on her face. She looked up at him, worry crinkling the corners of her eyes.
“My sixteen-year-old sister is missing. Ashley left my house about ten, planning to beat curfew, but never made it back to the dorm. The student who lent her his vehicle called me, freaking out that she hadn’t brought the car back. We’ve both tried calling her, but there’s no answer. This isn’t like her. Something is terribly wrong.”
Deb’s face felt half-frozen, but the rest of her body was warm from Gabe pressing against her. For some stupid reason, she felt comforted by the pressure, instead of trapped by someone who might or might not be a bad guy. Despite what she’d seen, her instincts said to trust him.
She would, but only because she’d watched him for a long time. Over a year, in fact.
It had started the night she’d delivered him to the hospital. She’d given him a twenty-five percent chance when they’d loaded the stretcher into the chopper. She’d recognized the gray on his face, had seen it too many times in combat. Then his brother Luke had boarded. The reporter had clung to his brother and willed him back from the brink.
His odds had gone up to forty-sixty in her eyes. She’d still thought he had a better chance of dying than living.
She hadn’t been able to keep things purely professional, though—or completely close off her heart. Those two Montgomery brothers had wriggled beneath her skin like a parasite. By the time she’d landed the chopper at the hospital, she hadn’t been able to ignore them.
They didn’t know, but she’d hung around, outside the waiting room. She’d seen Gabe’s mother arrive, his brothers, an imp of a little girl, and even a sea of SWAT.
The connections she’d witnessed in their family had made her ache. She missed Rick and Ben. Now more than ever. If her brothers had been stateside, she could have picked up the phone and dialed them. They’d have been on the first flight to help her, but they were incommunicado and she was on her own to find Ashley.
“Your sister is missing?” he repeated. “If she’s a student, couldn’t she just have become tired and gone to a classmate’s house and forgotten to call?”
Gabe still hadn’t moved away from Deb, and for the moment, she didn’t care—even though someone this much in her space usually made her skin crawl. “She wouldn’t want the demerits. She’s at the Air Force Academy.”
He raised a brow. “Really? At sixteen? They don’t take people that young.”
“They made an exception for her. Lots of rules and red tape, but the bottom line is she’s wicked smart. Too smart for her own good sometimes. They made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. She and a friend hacked into the NSA for the hell of it. Guess it got the government’s attention. They want her to be some kind of secret-weapon code breaker, I think.” Deb bit her lip.
“Holy crap, she’s one of the kids who hacked the NSA? It was all over the news.”
Deb sighed. “Tell me about it. That’s one of the reasons I’m so worried.”
“So, you think someone found out where she is and something happened? It’s not likely.”
“Normally that’s true, but she came by this weekend, worried.” Deb filled Gabe in on her earlier conversation with Ashley. “I checked with the school. Neither she nor the car made it back. She never passed through the entrance gate or signed in on the dorm log-in sheet.”
“Does Ashley have a boyfriend?” Gabe asked, gently.
“Yes,” Deb admitted. “But I already tried calling Justin. I even woke up his parents. They’re almost as crazed as I am, because they think he’s missing, too. Justin sent his parents a text saying he’d decided to visit New Mexico Tech to see if he wanted to go there. He’s graduating from high school this year.”
Gabe relaxed a bit. “Then that’s probably where Ashley is. Maybe he asked her to go with him?”
Deb shook her head and her chest tightened. The more she spoke aloud, the more the worry snaked through her insides, twisting her muscles into tension-filled knots. “I don’t think so. According to Justin’s parents he’d turned down New Mexico Tech earlier this week. So why would he text his parents that he was going there? And if Ashley was going there with him, why didn’t she drop off the car she borrowed before she left?”
“You’ve got me.” Gabe frowned. “So Justin hasn’t been in touch with them since—”
“Saturday night. They’ve called him countless times since then. Last night, Ashley mentioned she’d been trying to reach him all day and was getting worried.”
Gabe scratched his head. “Look, Deb. They’re both kids—”
She shoved against his chest, pushing him away. “Montgomery, before you say one more word, let me tell you that I know my sister. She wouldn’t take off without telling me. I opted out of my military career when my father was deployed so she could attend the Academy. In Ashley’s mind, she owes me for that. Disappearing is the last thing she’d do to me.”
He nodded his head, but Deb could see he had doubts. Thankful for the space between them, she crossed her arms. This had been a bad idea. Reaching out to him had been an impulse. She should have known. Counting on anyone but herself was a mistake.
“Ashley has only been gone
a few hours,” he said, his weight shifting from one leg to the other. “Without more concrete evidence, I’m not even sure you can file a missing person’s report yet.”
“I know,” she sighed. Gabe’s leg was obviously bothering him tonight, but she couldn’t let this go. “They’re going to say the same thing at the sheriff’s office. It’s the other reason I wanted to talk to you. I thought maybe you could influence them. Convince one of the guys you know really well to help. Maybe at least ask the other officers to look out for the car.”
Gabe tapped his chin. “If Neil Wexler is on, maybe I could talk him into a BOLO.”
A small spark of hope kindled inside of her. “A BOLO? Is that the be-on-the-lookout-for thing?”
“Yeah.”
“If you’d do that for me, Gabe, as soon as this is over, I promise I’ll find a way to say thank you.”
“Really?” He stepped forward and brushed the hair out of her eyes.
Her breath hitched. Now was not the time. Not with Ashley missing.
Gabe lingered for a moment, then dropped his hand. “Do you want to come inside the bar while I lock up? We may be at the station for a while.”
“No. I’ll wait here.” A minute later, Deb regretted that decision. She huddled deeper into her coat. Was Ashley outside in this frigid cold? God, she should have made her sister stay. Why hadn’t she gone with her gut?
Her instincts had kept her alive for her years in the Army. She knew better than to ignore them.
Seconds later, Gabe returned, his limp a bit more pronounced than it had been.
“You okay?” she asked.
His face tightened. “I’m fine. The cold weather makes me stiff.” He flushed. “Uh, makes my leg stiff.”
“Oh, really?” She couldn’t stop the arch of her brow. Surely that wasn’t a Freudian slip on his part? “We can drive to the station,” she offered, “if you’re in pain.”
He scowled. “It’s across the street.”
“It’s across four lanes of slippery, black-ice-covered street.”
“I’m fine,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.