by Misty Evans
“I’m fine.”
“Hungry?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.”
She fidgeted. “Brice said you had questions.”
Mitch jerked his head. “We went through the flash drive. Not all of it, but we got a good idea of what was going on. Tommy complained about the operation to his superiors. His complaints escalated and he threatened to go outside of New Mexico with major damning information. Were you aware of that?”
“Somewhat. He was extremely frustrated. And worried.”
“We could tell from his notes,” Caroline said.
Maria worked her purse strap between her fingers. “I didn’t want Jesse involved anymore. It was too risky.”
Mitch held out his hand. “How much did Jesse know about you and Tommy?”
“About our relationship? Nothing. We never told him. I wasn’t comfortable with it, but Tommy thought it was best. Jesse figured out I was seeing someone because he would tease me about my secret guy. I wanted to tell him.”
“But you didn’t?” Caroline asked.
“No.”
Time to amp this up. Mitch rolled his eyes, made a show of not taking her seriously. “Jesse isn’t stupid. I think he knew.”
As Mitch had hoped, Maria responded with a skin-melting glare. “I’m good at keeping secrets. He didn’t know.”
Now he’d get answers. “Maybe he came by and saw Tommy’s car in your driveway and figured it out.”
“Tommy never parked in the drive or anywhere near the house for just that reason. He parked around the corner a block down in the parking lot.”
Around the corner. Tommy had been killed on the next block over. Mitch’s shoulder blades twitched, that feeling that he’d struck gold. Holy shit. “Was Tommy leaving your place when he got shot?”
Maria paused and her dark eyes filled with tears. She blinked a couple of times and swiped under her eyes. “Tommy had talked Jesse into turning over a bunch of guns to him. I guess from what Jesse told me later, Tommy stuck them in his car that night to take to a meeting with some bigwig as proof about what was happening with the taskforce. Jesse gave him the guns and took off to meet up with some of his friends.”
“How did he explain the guns going missing to whoever he was buying them for?”
“He never told Balboa he bought them. Tommy reimbursed Jesse for the cost of the guns and Jesse bought more guns for Balboa. He never knew Tommy took the first set of guns.”
The stash of guns found in Tommy’s car had to be worth fifteen grand. Tommy must have taken the money from his own account. Had to. Considering other ways he’d have gotten that money didn’t help Mitch’s argument that Tommy was clean. “What happened the night Tommy died?”
“I got home late and he was waiting for me. He stayed for a couple of hours, then said he had to go to a meeting. That’s when he gave me the flash drive and said if anything happened to him, I should give it to you or Kemp. He gave me Kemp’s contact info and a phone number for you, but that number didn’t work.”
No doubt because it was one of his burn phones. He never kept one longer than a week or two.
Her fingers tightened on the purse strap and tears leaked from her eyes. Her voice was barely a whisper, but she met Mitch’s gaze straight on. “I heard the shots from my house.”
Mitch’s heart triple-timed it. Dear God.
Caroline, the one equipped with the sensitivity gene, leaned over and touched Maria’s hand. “What did you do when you heard the shots?”
“At first, nothing. I thought it was just fireworks or something.” Her lips screwed up and she sobbed slightly. “Then it hit me. My next thought was Jesse. I ran out the door to figure out where the shots came from. I didn’t see anything so I ran to the end of the block. It was dark and I couldn’t see anything from the corner. All the parking lot lights were broken years ago. I was in a panic and walked toward the lot. My eyes adjusted and I saw Tommy’s car. I knew, I just knew.”
Mitch’s blood pressure soared. “Did you call 911?”
“I started running toward the car, saw Tommy lying on the ground, but before I got to him, a man stopped me and told me to stay back. I told him I was a nurse, but he said Tommy was already…” full-on sobs shook her body “…that Tommy was dead.”
Caroline gave Mitch a look. “Ethan?”
Mitch nodded. “Did you see anyone leaving the crime scene?”
She shook her head. “The man asked the same thing but, no, I never saw anyone or any vehicle leaving the parking lot. I didn’t want to leave Tommy, but I had to find Jesse. I ran home and bolted the door shut. Jesse wouldn’t respond to my calls and I haven’t seen him since. The next day, I knew I had to do something with that flash drive. I couldn’t locate you, so I copied a few of the files and found Kemp. I wasn’t sure if I could trust him, so I gave him a separate USB drive in the park that night.”
“We need to talk to Jesse,” Mitch said. “Right now he’s looking like our suspect.”
Maria’s shoulders flew back. “Jesse? No. He wouldn’t.”
“How do you know? Maybe he found out about you and Tommy. Maybe Balboa found out about you and Tommy. Can’t have the straw buyer’s sister involved with a federal agent. That gets things all kinds of muddy.”
She shook her head, glanced at Caroline—bingo—aiming for support. “He wouldn’t.”
On cue, Caroline squeezed her hand. “How do we find him?”
Her shoulders were bowed, her eyes now pinned on a threadbare spot in the carpeting. “I don’t know. I’ve called every friend and acquaintance he had—at least all those I knew of—and none of them have seen him. I’m afraid he’s…dead.”
“He may well be, and we believe you’re in danger, Maria.” Mitch didn’t really feel like playing hardball with her, but they were all in too deep to turn back now. “We’re heading to Washington in a few hours. You need to come with us. We need your testimony along with Tommy’s files to provide the Justice Department with solid proof to investigate. We don’t know for sure who was behind the operation to let the guns walk and we don’t know how high this cover-up goes, but if we’re going to clear Tommy’s name and find his and Kemp’s killers, we need your help.”
Her head came up, ponytail swinging as she shook it. “I can’t. I can’t leave here. I have a job, and what if Jesse comes home? I need to be here for him.”
“Your brother was involved with a gun-running organization, and you got involved with a Bureau agent working undercover investigating that same organization. Your boyfriend was gunned down two blocks from your house, and another man was killed over a flash drive. Not only is the killer still running around, he must have guessed you didn’t give all the information to Kemp, so now he’s after you and us. The attack on Caroline was not some random mugging. You really think you’re safe here, Maria? Especially after we leave?”
Her eyes went to Caroline, back to Mitch. “Can’t you just tell the Justice people what I said?”
“No,” Mitch said. “You need to give your statement in person. Plus, after we leave, who’s gonna protect you?”
She looked at the carpet again. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Well, I guess you didn’t really care about Tommy like you claim.”
Her face was fierce when she met his eyes. “I loved him.”
“Then do the right goddamned thing. You have a chance to clear Tommy’s name and you won’t. What’s your angle, Maria? Is this some kind of sick game? You know what I think?” He felt sorry for her, being tangled up in this mess, but his blood was boiling, and Bad Cop went on the attack. “I think maybe Jesse killed Tommy and this whole big story of yours is just that. A story to protect your lousy, no-good brother.”
“Mitch,” Caroline said in that tone that warned him he was about to go too far.
Too bad.
Maria sucked in a sharp breath. “You don’t know anything about me or my brother.”
“I know he’s a criminal
and all this talk about being in love with Tommy is a joke. You led him on and made him think you were in love with him while you and Jesse planned his murder, didn’t you?”
“Mitch!” Caroline hollered because—yeah—apparently he’d gone too far.
Maria reached out to slap him, but he caught her wrist. She swore at him in Spanish and tried to jerk away. “How dare you.”
He released her wrist. “Prove it. Prove to me that you and Jesse didn’t screw Tommy. Come to D.C. with us and give your testimony.”
Caroline inserted herself between them, shoved Mitch back a step and turned to Maria. “Don’t do it for us. Do it for Tommy. If you help us with this, I’ll do what I can to clear Jesse’s name and bring him home.”
Again, Maria’s gaze ping-ponged between Mitch and Caroline. Mitch saw it the moment the fight went out of her. Her eyes softened and fresh tears filled the corners. “I loved him. You may not ever believe that, but we had plans. Good plans. Ones that would take us out of here. I wanted a life with him.”
Caroline inched closer and set her hands on Maria’s arms, not gripping, but a light touch that allowed her to connect on a personal level. She’d always been good that way, worming her way in on an emotional level while Mitch was pond scum.
“Then help us, Maria. You may not have that life with him, but you can save his reputation, let everyone know what a good man he was.”
Maria took a second, breathed in and out, chin against her chest, fingers mashed together. When she looked up, her hard gaze went straight to Mitch. “Fine. But I need to go back to my place and grab a few things. And what about my cat?”
“Who took care of the cat before?”
“My friend Lisa. I suppose I could leave her there again.”
Caroline rose, grabbed a pad of paper and a pen off the desk and handed them to her. “Give me a list of what you need from the house and Mitch and I will go.”
Caroline followed Maria’s instructions and located her migraine medicine in the bathroom. Brice and Maria were parked two blocks down behind an abandoned gas station and Mitch was on lookout duty while Caroline threw clothes and toiletries into a go-bag for Maria.
Home. Back to D.C. And none too soon. Caroline’s life and career would never be the same, but she could feel this fiasco about to explode. She’d deal with the fallout, put it behind her, and move on.
Hopefully, with Mitch by her side.
Muffled footsteps on the stairs made her pause her hunt for Maria’s makeup bag. Mitch appeared, but didn’t stop, passing the bathroom and heading for the second bedroom.
Caroline poked her head into the hall. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving Jesse a note.” Mitch flipped a piece of paper onto the bed.
A note. With Mitch doing the composing, this should be interesting. She left the bathroom and peeked into the bedroom to see what the note said.
I have your sister. Under the statement was Mitch’s phone number.
Caroline quirked an eyebrow at him. “You really think he’ll come back?”
“He’s already been back.” Mitch pointed at a half empty pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. “That wasn’t here last time.”
“What a louse,” Caroline said. “He’s hanging his sister out to dry. He doesn’t even care that her life’s in danger.”
Mitch glanced out the bedroom window. “If I find out Jesse had any involvement in Tommy’s murder, I will hunt the prick down and put a bullet in him myself.”
“I’ll help you.”
He met her eyes and that whoosh between them, that ingrained energy, surged. We’re sick. Getting turned on talking about killing a criminal together.
Two minutes later, Caroline climbed into the backseat of Maria’s car and handed the woman a bag of her stuff. The truck was running on fumes, so they were leaving it behind. Mitch sat up front with Brice for the ride to the airport.
Maria was quiet as they drove. Mitch was too. Caroline touched her cheekbone. The wound was healing, but she had a nasty bruise. Wait ’til Dad sees that. Maybe she could avoid him after they got home, at least for a few days.
Quick flicks traveled up her neck, the warning she’d experienced several times in her life, but had learned to appreciate as her body’s instinctual distress call. She angled her head sideways, not much, just enough to catch sight of a black SUV pulling in behind them from the corner of her eye. Her nerves, already taut, tensed a little more. Was she paranoid? She had good reason to be. “Brice?”
“Yep,” he said from the front seat. “Already saw them.”
“Them, who?” Mitch checked the side mirror. “Black SUV?”
Brice took a left turn without preamble, throwing Caroline off balance and causing the seat belt to dig into her neck. She grabbed the door handle with one hand and reached for Maria with the other. “Get down. Now.”
Mitch peeked between the seats, gaze focused on the back window. “Still with us,” he said to Brice. His attention shifted to Caroline. “You get down, t—”
The back window exploded, sending shards of glass, compliments of a bullet, raining down on Caroline’s head.
Maria screamed. Help her. Caroline shoved her to the floor as Brice accelerated and took a hard right. The squeal of tires and the acrid smell of burning rubber, rushed through the car, the momentum of the turn vaulting Caroline sideways over the seat. The damned seat belt ripped into her skin again. I’m done. “Mitch?” she yelled.
“I’m all right.” His face filled the gap between the seats again, this time lower. “You okay?”
“Someone just shot at me. I’m pissed.”
He grinned, of all things. Grinned! “Give me your gun.”
The car flew around a curve. Maria sobbed, her overnight bag gripped tightly in her hands as she lay curled on the floorboard. Caroline grabbed her sidearm, staying low over Maria, while checking the magazine. “If anyone’s returning fire, it’s me.”
“I have a better angle.”
“Who is it?” Maria cried. “Who’s shooting at us?”
I wish I knew. Caroline released her seatbelt and crouched onto the floor, positioning her back against Mitch’s seat so she could raise up and fire through the open window. “How close are they?” she said to Brice.
“Three car lengths. I can lose them on the next turn,” he replied.
Maybe she wouldn’t have to shoot.
Pop-pop-pop. Another round of bullets hit the car and Maria howled, all her stress balling into a high-pitched wail that pummeled Caroline’s system. Ignore her. Focus.
Mitch spoke close to her ear. “I have a better vantage point. Give me the damn gun.”
“The hell you do.” Caroline ran through the logistics of the scene in her head. Pedestrians. Cars on either side. Possible collateral damage everywhere. “Now shut up and tell me when I have a clear shot.”
Brice weaved the car all over the road, continuing to throw her off balance, but she braced her back more firmly against the seat.
“Straighten it out, Brice,” Mitch said. “Now, Caroline!”
Caroline popped up, gun at the ready. The instant she cleared the edge of the back window, she held the oxygen in her lungs, aimed and fired.
Bam-bam-bam. The gun recoiled in her hand, spent rounds flying and adding to the mess of broken glass surrounding Maria. Caroline dropped again, taking cover should another round come at them. Seconds later screeching tires—the sound abrasive and ear puncturing—followed by crunching metal refocused her.
“Nailed ʼem,” Mitch shouted.
Wanting to see her handiwork, Caroline inched up again. Sure enough, she’d busted a couple of holes in the SUV’s windshield. She’d also hit a tire, or maybe the driver. The vehicle swerved, lost control, and hit a telephone pole.
“Go back,” Mitch barked. “Let’s see who’s in there.”
“No,” Caroline and Brice fired back in unison.
“It’s our one chance to find out who’s after the flash drive!”
>
Caroline watched the mangled SUV grow smaller as they sped away, but no one bailed out. “Cops will show up any minute and we can’t risk being there when they do.”
Maria lifted her head, her brown eyes red from crying, a silent plea shining in them.
“I’m sorry,” Caroline told her, keeping an eye on the road behind them. “We’ll keep you safe, Maria. This will be over soon.”
She hoped she could keep that promise.
Chapter Twenty-two
Mitch’s gut sank as he looked out the window of Caroline’s father’s private jet to the runway below. Red and blue lights flashed in whirling circles, cutting through the shadowy night. “We’ve got trouble,” he said.
Caroline leaned over him and took in the sea of lights. “Dammit.”
Brice unbuckled his seatbelt and shot across the aisle, letting out a string of curses.
Maria paled. “What is it?”
“Cops,” Mitch answered. His fugitive status was done, and now the three people with him were about to pay the price. “They want me. You guys stay out of it and let me handle this. I’ll exonerate you the best I can.”
The plane’s wheels touched down, bouncing all of them and sending Brice falling back to his seat. He sank down and put a hand over his eyes, looking strung out and exhausted. Mitch was right there with him.
Caroline grabbed his arm and squeezed. “We’re in this together, remember?”
He couldn’t look at her. Not after all of this. He’d wrecked her career and probably her life. No time for this shit. Instead, he pinned Maria with a death glare. “You’ve got the number I gave you, right?”
She nodded. “Justice Greystone. I memorized it.”
“And you’ve got the copy of the files?”
Caroline, the always Type-A personality, had made a backup of Tommy’s flash drive and a backup of the backup just in case. Her thoroughness might drive him crazy, but at times it came in handy.
Maria patted the waistband of her slacks where Caroline had sewn in the flash drive. “I won’t give it to anyone but Mr. Greystone. Unless they arrest me too.”