by C. A. Szarek
Jeremy laughed. He heard the maniacal edge to it and a tremor shot down his spine. “I’m gonna get Caselli.”
“We got a warrant.”
“I heard.”
“Right. Good.” Downs nodded, but the forty didn’t waver. “But not this way, Stewart. No vest. No backup.”
“This is the only way.” Jeremy heard the desperation in his voice. His hands shook. The AK rattled in his hold, but he didn’t lower it from his teammate’s torso.
Flashbacks of Evan in the duplex safe house crossed his vision. His partner begging him to lower his weapon. Telling him there was another way.
“There’s no other way.” The words fell from his mouth in little more than a whisper. All he could see were Evan’s eyes.
“There is another way,” Downs said. “Protocol. Procedures we have in place to keep everyone safe. That’s why we’re a team.”
The guy’s calm, even tone gripped him as surely as if Downs had rested his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders.
He stared into the agent’s eyes.
Neither moved their weapon.
“No. This is the only way. I… I’m fucked.”
“Why?” Downs’ question was normal, like he was asking about the weather.
Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “Why is a good question. As in, why did you want to meet with me?”
“Why do you think?”
“No. Not doing this with you. Tell me what you know.”
“Let’s flip that around. Tell me what you know, Stewart. Who shot your partner?”
He shook his head. “You want some sort of confession?” Jeremy laughed again.
“Confession? What do you have to confess?” Downs slipped closer.
Jeremy tightened his grip on the AK. “Stop right there. I don’t want to shoot you.”
Downs paused. His Glock still didn’t move away. “Okay. I’ll stop. Put the gun down, Stewart. We’re FBI. This isn’t the way we do things. I’ll call in and the cavalry will come. We weren’t serving the warrant until tonight, but we’re here… You and I. Let’s get some cover, and we’ll get this bastard. The right way.”
“Then what?”
“Let’s talk. Just you and me.”
“No. No.” Jeremy shook his head again. His chest ached with the effort to breathe normally. He barely contained his urge to pant. “There’s nothing to talk about.” He paced. His thighs burned as his boots sliced the wet snow. Nothing but the sloshing of his frantic movements cut through the silence.
“Stewart.” Downs threw his palm up and raised his Glock, taking it off Jeremy for the first time. “What if I put my gun down?”
Jeremy’s eyes shot to him. “That would be fucking stupid.” He froze, training the AK-47 on his fellow agent’s broad chest.
Downs dropped his stance, and they were at stand-off position. Two seconds flat and that Glock was pointed at him.
If the other man pulled the trigger, so would Jeremy. His gut told him neither would hesitate.
Who would win?
“Want to hear what I think?” the guy asked, once again casually, as if they were discussing sports.
“Not really,” he growled.
“Well, I’ll share with the class anyway.” Downs took a breath, his eyes shrewd. “I think Caselli paid off your gambling debts. I also think you’ve been helping him out. He’s been paying you. You shot your partner and killed Miranda Parker. I haven’t put my finger on the extent of your involvement in the attempt on Nate Crane at the apartment, but I think you’re the info leak. Am I right?”
Jeremy’s heart skipped and his stomach threatened to eject the coffee Kirk had bought him, even though he’d only had a few sips. A cold winter breeze shifted his hair. It tickled the back of his neck, and a shudder racked his frame. “I don’t want to kill you.”
“Ditto. So drop the rifle. Come with me back to the office.”
“I can’t.” The words flew from his mouth in an anguished moan. “He’s going to kill my family.”
“No, he won’t. He can’t. We’re taking him down.”
Jeremy threw his head back and laughed. “Are you fucking stupid? Unless he’s dead, he won’t stop. Prison won’t stop his orders. I need to fucking kill him.”
Downs shook his head. “No, Stewart. That’s not the way. Put the rifle down.” This time the order was clear. A harsh bark. His teammate’s patience was waning.
“I have to do what I have to do.”
“So do I.”
“Okay then.” He sucked in a breath and rushed Downs. The man had height and muscle on him, but Jeremy was younger. Faster.
The other agent hollered and pulled the trigger of his weapon, but Jeremy dropped his body, heaved Downs’ arm high just in time for the bullet to soar over his shoulder.
He shoved the butt of the rifle into Downs’ gut. The man doubled over, and when he hit the driveway, Jeremy brought the stock of the AK down on his head.
Blood trickled from the other agent’s forehead, but he was alive. Lying on his back, one arm flung across his torso and one knee bent. He’d be wet and cold as fuck when he awoke in the snow, but at least Jeremy didn’t have an FBI death on his hands.
Evan’s blood is enough.
“Fucker. You couldn’t fucking listen to me.” He cursed some more and bent to retrieve Downs’ Glock from the snowy cement of the driveway. He wiped the moisture from the weapon and tucked it into his waistband.
Then he turned back to the kitchen’s steel door and punched in the code. Unless Caselli’s home sported soundproof bedrooms, someone had probably heard that gunshot. Not to mention the previous shots when he’d killed the Guidos.
Jeremy didn’t have much time.
* * * *
“No way. No fucking way, Dex. I’m closest and I’m not waiting for over an hour for the team to arrive. Downs isn’t answering his phone.” Lee ignored the glare Nate threw her way. He agreed with the stupid analyst on the other end of her call—AKA shouting match.
She’d pulled off the freeway and headed back north about two seconds after Dex had told her where Clint was.
“I’ll get Liv to mobilise the guys.”
“You do that.”
“You need to wait for back-up.”
“Do me a favour. Check the GPS on Stewart’s phone,” Lee barked. She didn’t bother contradicting his declaration, because she wasn’t waiting. She was going to get to Caselli’s, find her partner and hope to God she didn’t have to shoot Jeremy Stewart.
The look on Nate’s face suggested he’d already done the math regarding the other agent.
“Stewart?”
“Yeah.”
To his credit, Dex didn’t ask why. But when his answer was a string of curses, Lee responded with a few of her own.
“Definitely not waiting for backup.”
“What the hell is going on?” Dex demanded.
“Not sure yet. Let you know when I get there.” Lee ended the call and pitched her phone across the car.
Nate caught it and set it in the cup holder. “Take a breather.”
“Hell no. How can I? Clint was right. Stewart’s dirty. He probably has my partner hostage or something. Brought him right to Caselli. Fuck.” Lee shook him off when he patted her arm. Her gut churned.
“I hate to agree with the analyst, but you don’t even have a vest.”
“I don’t care. Stewart shot his partner. What makes you think he won’t kill mine?” She shivered and shifted in the seat.
Clint had looked into Stewart on his own. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t have been there for him—with him—if she’d wanted to. Lee had to protect Nate.
Now she was forced to take her witness to Caselli’s mansion. Take him right to the man who wanted him dead.
“I care. I don’t want you hurt.”
Lee shook her head. “I won’t get hurt. Neither will you.”
“Not worried about me.”
She glanced at him. “I am.”
Nate chuckled and shook his
head. “Wow. We’re sitting here worrying about each other.”
“Right.” She couldn’t even crack a smile. “And I’m worried about Downs.”
“It’ll be okay.”
He’d said that a dozen times. No amount of faith was going to fix this.
Lee wanted to close her eyes, but resisted since she was driving. She wanted to hit something. Or shoot something. Or cry. “Dammit,” she muttered instead.
“Just get us there. We’ll assess the situation and then act. Only if it’s safe.”
“Safe? That’s hilarious. Nothing about this will be safe. Besides, there’s no we here. You’re staying in the car.”
“While you go in alone? With no protection against flying bullets.”
“That about sums it up. AKA, my job.”
“Fuck. That.”
She growled. “Not arguing about this, Counsellor. Caselli wants you dead. We’re going to his home. It’s like serving you up on a platter. You’ll stay in the car. Out of sight.”
Nate harrumphed and crossed his arms over his broad chest. He said nothing, but Lee wasn’t stupid. No way would her lover drop it that easily. Not to mention his tendency to require the last word.
“Just get us there.”
Lee narrowed her eyes. “Workin’ on it.”
They didn’t speak. Neither made an attempt to fill the silence. She’d never been out to Caselli’s vast property, but had seen aerial pictures, blueprints and even the lot layouts from the county tax office. Luckily for them, the mob boss had only built the mansion a few years ago. All the data they’d needed was easily accessible. And public.
The place was huge. No doubt laid out with all sorts of custom things. Fancy furniture and top of the line everything. Dirty money bought whatever the hell you wanted. Not to mention that the bastard was known for his expensive taste.
“You know where we’re going?” he asked as she exited the highway.
“Yes.”
They continued on, until the terrain became rougher, and there was nothing but snow-covered fields and big red barns. Farmhouses were farther and farther from each other. Then sleeping woods lined both sides of the roads.
Caselli had no love for neighbours. He’d purchased all the rest of the land surrounding his property, so his mansion was remote. No witnesses, no place to run.
There was one thing in their favour—only one road in and out.
The arrogant asshole had named the private drive Caselli Way.
“Damn, there’s nothing out here.” Nate’s voice was low as he looked around. “Acres and acres of snow.”
“And he’ll see us coming.” Lee pointed to the telephone pole at the end of the long driveway of Caselli Way.
A panning camera surveyed the area, probably catching the public roadway as well as the private drive. The bastard had spared no expense—the pathway towards his house was paved and in better shape than the county country road.
“It’s probably fortified.”
“Yeah, gets better and better.” She slowed the Accord and yanked her Glock from its holster, controlling the wheel with one hand.
Nate said nothing, but his gaze was sharp as he surveyed.
“The place is surrounded by twenty foot high iron fencing—old school haunted mansion style. There’s a gatehouse at the end of the driveway. Get down and stay down when we get there.”
A curt nod was all the answer he gave her, but that was okay with Lee.
“The gate’s open.”
She didn’t respond, but she’d spotted what Nate had as well.
He then ducked low in the seat.
Good. He planned on listening to her.
Lee inched the car closer. Ready for anything. She screamed at herself to focus on what was in front of her. Tried to ignore her worry for the man in the car with her. More than her witness. More than just her lover.
She banished dangerous thoughts and stared ahead, dragging her eyes across the gatehouse. “Son of a bitch!”
“What?”
“Bodies. Two. Just stay down.”
Blood splatter dotted the snow and the side of the building. Lee pulled past the gatehouse slowly, observing as much as she could without stopping.
One guy was up against the side of the building, slumped over, the back of his head gone. The other lay about five feet away, his chest—no, whole body—riddled with wounds.
“No way that was just a handgun,” Lee murmured.
Nate’s palm settled on her thigh and squeezed. “Be careful.”
“I am.” She continued to look around as she drove farther onto Caselli’s property. “Clint’s car.” Her partner’s Dodge Charger was parked by a large fountain.
“You see him?”
“No. I don’t see anyone. But if there’s a camera on the driveway, there’re more.”
“So the question is who’s seen us?” Nate breathed.
“Right.” Lee stopped the Accord on the right side of the FBI Charger. “I see tracks in the snow. Two sets. I’m gonna follow.”
“On foot?”
“Yes.”
“Lee—”
She made a cutting gesture with her free hand. “Nate. Don’t start.”
He glared up at her, his tall, lean frame cramped low in the passenger seat.
“There’s nothing for you to worry about. You need to stay here. Out of sight.”
“A sitting duck?”
Lee sighed. “You’re right. I’ll leave you my backup. It’s a forty. Use it if you need to.” She unhooked her seatbelt and hit the driver seat release. The chair slid all the way back with a resounding click. She bent to tug her Glock-27 out of her ankle holster. Held it out to her lover.
He took the gun, a scowl marring his handsome face. “You’re not going alone.”
“Dex mobilised my unit.”
“Like you said, they won’t be here for an hour.”
Lee frowned. “If something happens to you, there’s no case. No justice for Angelo.”
Nate shot upright and yanked her close. “If anything happens to you, I’ll never be okay again.”
Her heart stuttered and Lee crashed her lips into his. He deepened the kiss without hesitation, plunging his tongue into her mouth. She slanted her mouth under his as their tongues duelled, kissing him back with all her might.
After scooting as close as she could get with the shifter between them, she wrapped one arm around his neck. Lee slid her other hand behind her back, moaning into Nate’s kiss to cover the snap as she opened the handcuff case on her left side.
When she closed her fingertips on the metal rings, she pulled as gently as she could. Didn’t want to jar either herself or her lover, let alone give him a clue to what she was planning. The stainless steel was warm from her body heat and Lee shivered.
He was going to be pissed. She’d have to be quick.
She slipped her hand inside Nate’s jacket sleeve under the guise of a caress, but her man didn’t react as he continued to kiss her.
Lee nipped his bottom lip and he groaned. She licked the spot and kissed him again, more vigorously. Needed him even more distracted so she could get the handcuff on him without getting caught.
Nate responded, settling his hand at the back of her neck and kissing her harder, deeper. She needed to do this now, before desire clouded her brain completely. Her body was already on fire for him.
Lee wanted to get lost in him, but she had a job to do.
And she had to keep him safe.
With a deft snap, she closed one side of the handcuff around his left wrist, tugging him forward and clipping the other on the steering wheel of the car. She made sure they were locked before letting go.
Wide, frantic hazel eyes met her gaze. “What the he—”
“Sorry, babe, I can’t risk you getting hurt.” Lee pressed her mouth to his in a fast, firm kiss then slipped out of the Accord.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jeremy made his way through a kitchen that would make an
y five-star chef jealous as hell. Stainless steel and top-of-the-line everything surrounded him. He held the AK-47 high and tight, ready to pull the trigger at any moment.
Moved at a jog, but as quietly as he could. Still encountered no one even as he passed by two side-by-side walk-in freezers.
He smirked, but didn’t stop to look in the little window on either one.
On-sight body storage if you piss him off. Nice.
Maybe Jeremy could leave Caselli hanging in his own freezer.
If he told the man about the warrant, would it get him a ticket to safety? Anonymity? Then he’d be on the run like any other criminal. Out of the FBI forever, but that was his fate anyway.
Never to see Beth and the girls again. Or his mom.
Could he do it? Work for the man he despised. Sell drugs and little girls. Continue his killing spree and get paid for it? Be a Caselli enforcer.
No.
Jeremy was going to put a bullet in the bastard. Scratch that—a lot of bullets. And Swiss cheese anyone else who stood in his way of doing so. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe Caselli would leave his family alone permanently.
If the mobster offered him a deal that was too good to be true to save his own ass, it would be just that. Lies. An AK-47 in one’s face tended to elicit promises. But in Caselli’s case, promises would still belong at the shallow end of the pool.
He exited the vast kitchen and passed through a set of double doors that spilled into a formal dining room, complete with an extremely long table. Chairs lined both sides—there had to be thirty seats, if not more. Royalty style. Ornate, carved dark wood. Huge marble fireplace at the far end of the room. The place was like the great hall of a medieval castle.
“Hmmm, maybe burning him would be better than freezing his balls off.” His voice echoed and jarred Jeremy. He shook his head and kept going.
The sprawling foyer was next. Full of red and black velvet tapestries, iron and white marble sculptures. Framed art hung on every wall.
There were two stairwells, rounded and curving inward. Like arms spread wide, giving off the illusion of welcome—a call into a warm embrace.
Jeremy snorted. Caselli should have a sign that announced the place to be the den of the devil it was.