“This time, I do have to answer.”
She stepped away, panting.
“Yeah, Wyatt…no…just working out, what’s up?”
Cassie headed to the kitchen in search of something to drink. Never before had she felt wobbly after being thoroughly kissed, but she could barely stand, let alone breathe. Cold water had no appeal. She pulled two bottles of beer out of the refrigerator and twisted off their tops. She gulped her beer as if she were parched on a sun-drenched day. The cold felt good on her bruised mouth and hot body. She handed Jack his and their eyes met. He made no attempt to hide his frank bold stare. Heat spread over her body again, and her cheeks burned. She now knew what it was like to be kissed by Jack Wyatt. His gaze dropped from her eyes and looked her up and down. Whoever he was listening to must have asked a question.
“Yeah, I’m still here. Just listening.” Jack turned away and stepped over to the window.
Cassie retreated to the bathroom and applied a cold cloth to her neck and cheeks. Had she caught Jack’s attention? Oh, yes, way more than she had anticipated. Obviously, she hadn’t thought the whole Katerina scene through and what could happen. At the time, it seemed like a good idea, but then it always did. Never did she want to be Jack’s quick screw, a fuck on the floor, so what in the hell had she been thinking? She studied herself in the mirror, reapplying the cold compress.
“Ah, Christ, Cassie, when are you going to learn?” Humiliation engulfed her.
She changed into jeans and one of the tops she bought. When she returned, Jack had finished the call and pocketed his phone. He cleared his throat and studied her. Embarrassed, her face flushed.
“I’m glad you changed. I’m not sure my men could have handled that outfit. I barely could.” He took a swig of beer and let out a deep breath. “Cass, what’s going on?”
“I…I thought we were going to practice.” He didn’t understand. “On being Russian.”
A smile tugged at his mouth.
“I got carried away.” She shrugged and looked down. “It was stupid of me. I’m sorry.”
“Hey.”
She looked up.
“Don’t be. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”
Cassie smiled faintly. He was definitely that.
“Is this part of being Russian?” He brushed the hair off her forehead and ran his fingers through the new length. “I like it.” The huskiness lingered in his voice. “So how did we do?”
She grinned. “We definitely got over the initial awkwardness of touching each other. So the rest should be easy.”
“Let’s get practicing then.” Jack grabbed his jacket and back pack. “We can do that while we grab dinner and head to Harbor Island. Go get your coat.”
Cassie returned with the leather coat she bought and stood in front of Jack. “First lesson is to help me on with my coat. Second, hold the door open for me.”
He raised his brows, questioning her.
“You need to be old-fashioned and feel like you own me. I’m your special possession.”
“I think you’re making this up.” He helped her with her coat and held the door open.
Cassie passed through, and he patted her on her butt. She gasped, surprised.
“Hey, I’m just owning you…Sammi with an i. By the way, what in the world did you say to Misty to make her so mad?”
“Oh, Sugar Bear, you don’t want to know.”
“I was afraid of that.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jack pulled into the parking lot of Dick’s Burgers on Queen Anne Avenue. “We’re getting burgers, but not to go.”
He grabbed his iPad and hopped out of his truck. Cassie wondered when he would realize she wasn’t behind him. He stopped and looked over his shoulder, she waved, motioning him back, and then pointed to the door. When he opened her door, Cassie held out her hand to help her down.
“I think you’re taking advantage of the situation,” he said.
“Just be glad I’m not making you practice with an accent yet.”
He muttered something unintelligible back. When they reached the door, he held it open, and she waited for him to open the inner door. Cassie headed to a booth with Jack’s iPad while he ordered their food. He returned with three Dick’s Deluxe, fries, and two chocolate milk shakes.
“When was the last time you had a Dick’s burger?” he asked.
She couldn’t answer because her mouth was already full.
“Did you eat lunch?”
Shaking her head, she took another bite.
“Oh, that’s right because you were down on South Jackson Street.”
She didn’t take the bait and continued to eat.
Finishing her burger, she sighed. “The answers to your questions are I don’t know, no, and yes.” She popped a couple of fries in her mouth. “This is really good. Thank you.”
He handed her a napkin and a pen. “Draw me the tattoo you saw and anything else you can remember.”
“I can do better than that.” Cassie hunted through her purse and pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. It was everything she’d written down.
Jack studied it and took a photo with his tablet. Cassie finished the drawing and he photographed it.
“How can you be so sure of that tattoo? You didn’t mention it when I showed you the photo of the guy with Armstrong.”
“When I saw it a second time, it must have jarred my memory.”
“But how can you be so sure?” Jack finished the burger and popped fries, waiting for her to answer.
With the pen in her hand and a fresh napkin, Cassie closed her eyes, and started sketching what she saw. Jack compared the two drawings, and they were almost identical.
“Last year, an Asian film company came to L.A. to make some movie about gangs, some fiction thriller. They had a couple of scenes shot in Los Angeles where this guy was in hiding. I played a shopkeeper who was harassed by this gang. It’s the same tattoo. When you are sitting around waiting to shoot your scene and everyone is sporting the same ink, it’s kind of hard to miss it.”
Jack had Cassie hold both napkins side-by-side while he took a photo, and then each separately. He e-mailed everything off, closed the iPad, and said, “Let’s go.”
This time, he held every door open and then the truck door, helping her in. Jack took 1st Avenue to the Alaskan Way Viaduct where they clipped along at a reasonable speed. He exited for Harbor Island. Off in the distance, cargo ships and flood lights lit up the area. He pulled up to the closed gate to enter the pier area. Immediately, a guard came out.
He rolled down his window and showed his credentials. “Wyatt. I.C.E.” He pointed to Cassie. “Ryan.”
The guard grinned and leaned in, handing Jack the clip board to sign in. “Yeah, I heard they found some pretty interesting stuff today.” He opened the gate and waved them through.
Jack drove down to the end where two cargo ships were berthed. Tower cranes unloaded containers off the ships. Two men wearing jackets marked I.C.E., a gun and badge clearly visible on their hips, waved when he pulled up and parked. Just like before, he hopped out, came around and opened her door, and held up his hand to help her out. Cassie looked at the waiting men, and then Jack.
“How about if I just wait here.” Nervousness gripped her. It was one thing being one-on-one with Jack, but this was his work.
“No. I want you to come with me.”
She glanced nervously at the men and then back at Jack. She didn’t know why she’d gotten an attack of butterflies.
“You’re fine.”
Cassie grasped his offered hand and stood next to him.
“Just be yourself. But, please, not Sammi with an i.” He squeezed her hand. They walked toward the men, and Cassie saw the quick look one gave to
the other.
“Hey, boss,” one of the men called.
Jack stopped in front of them. “This is Cassie. She’s helping us go undercover tomorrow night. Where’s Heather?”
They both grinned. “In there with the contraband.” They motioned with their heads.
“Are you picking on her?”
“No. We just thought we’d get a woman’s point of view of where to search next. Heather is directing us.”
The conversation sounded innocent, but the men’s expression said differently. She was sure they wanted to say more but didn’t because she was standing there. Jack led the way into an enormous well-lit warehouse with forklifts moving cargo. A tall woman dressed identical to the men, also with a badge and gun on her hip, waved to Jack. She stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the opened crates. She grinned at Jack. “You know what we found now, don’t you?” said Heather
“Yes,” replied Jack. “Are the guys giving you grief?”
Heather smirked. “Not now. Not after I said, ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.’” Heather reached into the crate and pulled out an enormous rubberized penis and held it up.
Cassie gasped and started laughing.
“That probably shut them up then, didn’t it?” Jack smiled.
“Yep.” She opened her hands and let the penis drop back into the case.
“Where’s the DEA guys?”
“Over there.” Heather pointed to a group of men in a cordoned off area. A forklift operator was delivering two more crates.
“Heather, this is Cassie Ryan, and she is going undercover tomorrow night with me. I need you to outfit her with everything she needs. We’re supposed to be Russian.”
“Oh, so that’s why the new look.” Heather ran her hand across her cheek. “Okay. Let’s get away from the crate of dreams, and you can tell me everything.” Heather pulled out a smart phone from her back pocket and motioned for Cassie to follow.
“Great job, Heather. How did you figure this one out?” Jack motioned to the crates.
“Something about the waybill bothered me. The shipper and the receiver were almost identical on the ecstasy bras, and the weight seemed off to me for a bra. Once we opened the crate and I saw the size and style being shipped, it didn’t make any sense to me until I fingered the padding. So the guys and I took a look at the rest of the manifest and at all the Saipan shipments. I Google-earthed the address in Saipan and found both the bras and the sex toys came out of the same building but with different street addresses. Same warehouse, but two different streets fronting each side. I concluded that House of Dong was the same as the 44-Double D Ecstasy Bras. Jim took a knife and sliced through the rubber toy and white powder streamed out. The rest is history.”
“Do they know what it is yet?” Jack asked.
Heather shook her head.
“One thing, make sure you outfit Cassie with a hidden camera for tomorrow night.” He turned and headed to the group of men.
Jack greeted the men and surveyed the cache. If it was ecstasy, forty pounds equaled a million dollars of street value. He estimated a half million dollars so far. Rude jokes spilled out from the agents while they sliced the elongated rubber, pouring out the white powder.
“Doesn’t look like coke or meth to me,” said Jack.
“According to the lab, it is GHB, the date rape drug,” replied one of the DEA agents.
“Where was it headed?”
“A warehouse in Kent for the Notty and Nyce Party group. Someone has a warped sense of humor if you ask me. It’s one of those women party get-togethers where they have sex toys instead of Tupperware.” The agent grinned at Jack’s expression. “They’re very popular.”
“Well, wonders never cease.”
Jack glanced back to see if Heather and Cassie had finished. Heather gave him a thumb’s up, so he excused himself and joined them. Jack confirmed details with Heather, and when they finished, he and Cassie headed back to the truck.
Once on the main road, Cassie asked, “Where to next?” Jack was headed away from downtown.
“Get the iPad out. I downloaded a Russian language app. You can coach me while we search for a massage parlor around Sea-Tac.”
“What massage parlor?”
“The one I got a tip about. I just want to see its location and what might be going on at this time of night.”
“You do realize you’re not going to master Russian in an hour, don’t you?”
“In three hours?”
Cassie pulled out the iPad and tapped on the app. “Listen to the sounds first. Then we can go over words.” She followed along. When it finished, she asked, “Did you hear the sounds that form at the back of the throat?”
He looked at her and raised his brows. “Are you serious? I heard gibberish.”
She shook her head. “Give me your phone. I want to find a site and send it to the iPad. You need Gareth Jameson.”
“Who?”
“An actor who teaches accents. You can listen to his voice, and then you can hear the language course. He explains it way better than I can.”
Jack handed Cassie his phone. By the time she downloaded the app, he had pulled into a rear parking lot shared by an old motel. He backed in and parked in the dark shadows and shut off the engine. Jack reached behind his seat and pulled out a set of binoculars. Only the half-lit No Vacancy sign blinking on a pole pierced the darkness.
“Are you ready to listen?” she asked.
“I am. Keep the sound low and the light concealed.” He adjusted the night vision binoculars and peered into the night.
For thirty minutes they listened to the voice coach, with Cassie replaying the lessons. Jack mumbled through Russian when he said, “Bingo. We got something. Hand me the camera from the seat behind you.” He traded Cassie for the camera and started clicking away. She adjusted the binoculars to her face and scoped the area. “Look at the first three rooms of the motel but in the back area,” he instructed her. “Tell me what you see.”
“I only see a man standing in the shadows.”
“That’s right. He’s the guard. The girl and the man entered the motel room via a back door. What nationality?”
Cassie studied the man. He lit a cigarette and turned just enough for her to see the majority of his face. “He reminds me of the man with Rob Armstrong.”
“That’s what I think too.”
They sat in silence and watched. Movement in the shadows caught Cassie’s attention. “Jack, here’s another one.”
An Asian girl in stiletto heels wearing a faux fur coat was followed by a man that was clearly the customer, with another man behind.
Putting the binoculars down she said, “I can’t watch this; it makes me sick. That girl doesn’t look more than fourteen. Can’t you do something?”
“I will, I promise. Just not tonight.” He continued to click away until they left. He knew by her folded arms she was upset. “Are you okay?”
“It makes me angry. She didn’t look old enough to understand what’s going on.”
“I know.” He reached over and squeezed her hand.
“When do you turn it off?” she asked, facing him.
“Lately it seems like never.”
“I don’t know how you do it.” She reached over and stroked the back of his head and let her fingers rest on his neck. Surprised, Jack looked at her. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but he knew what he was. He leaned in, and it seemed the most natural thing for their mouths to meet.
Chapter Twenty-Three
"Thanks,” he murmured and cleared his throat.
She smiled. “For what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Caring? Unpredictable?”
“I like unpredictable.” Cassie touched his cheek.
“Me too.”
Cassie thought about his words. In the past, she’d read meaning into words that didn’t exist. This time, she would take it at face value.
Jack let out a deep breath. “I need better photos to nail those bastards.”
“How?”
“I’m not sure…”
Jack started up the SUV. With all the lights off, he drove it out of the darkened parking lot and repositioned down the street. With the GPS on his phone and the truck’s, he compared the data.
“Supposedly the street dead ends at the motel. So if we come around from the other side, at the back end, we should have a better view. We might have to sneak through some bushes.”
“We?”
“You don’t have to come. You can stay in the truck.”
“I’m not staying in the truck without you.”
He looked at her and frowned. With his expression, Cassie wasn’t sure what to think. Jack hopped out, opened the rear hatch, and returned with two I.C.E. hoodies and handed them to her.
“Your coat will be ruined. Put one on, but turn the other inside out so markings can’t be seen.”
Pulling out on Highway 99, Jack made a left, continued a block, and then made another left. Turning off the truck lights, he made a right, putting them behind the back of the motel in an industrial lot. Bushes and fir trees blocked their view. Before he shut off the engine, Jack surveyed the area with the night vision binoculars.
“We’re clear.” For a moment, they sat in silence. “You’re sure about coming along?”
“Yes.” Cassie wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t going to admit it.
“Use the hood or see if there is a stocking cap in the side pocket. Put it on.”
Sure enough, she reached down and pulled out a black cap. With her hair shorter, she tucked everything under the hat.
“You’re in charge of the camera until we get in position. Then we’ll switch. Block your side of the headlight when I click the truck lock. Shield the light with your body.”
Deep Into The Night (Hartz Island Series) Page 15