Colton 911: Temptation Undercover

by Jennifer Morey

  Damon suspected Orlando Braxton was the one who’d killed Ted. Six feet tall, longish dark hair, he had brown eyes with a sort of dead stare, never showing any kind emotion. He must be a mean one. Also at the table was Curtis Morgan and Sonny Cooper. They seemed to follow Orlando. After some surveillance, Damon learned those three were Santiago’s top men and likely the ones who carried out orders to kill and who oversaw drug deals. They were the men Damon had been targeting to win their trust. He hadn’t gotten very far with that, which only added to his inclination to ask to be removed from the case and pursue Ruby.

  Just then, he saw Orlando look over at him again and then stand, say something to his pals and start walking toward him. Really? Orlando was going to come over and talk to him? Maybe his luck was about to change.

  Orlando approached the bar and took a seat on a stool in front of Damon.

  “What can I get you?” Damon asked.

  “Beer.”

  Damon went about pouring him a mug.

  “Thomas tells me you do a little business on the side,” Orlando said.

  Thomas was the owner of Foxhole. “I do. I hear you do, too.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe we can help each other,” Damon said.

  “My boss wants to talk to you,” Orlando said. “He’s on his way right now. When he arranges for a meeting here, it’s expected that the meeting takes place.”

  Damon understood that all too well. The front door opened, and a man entered. Damon recognized him as someone who came in infrequently but had conversed with some group members and others he didn’t know. He only came here for meetings. Damon figured that out just now.

  “Ah. Here he is now,” Orlando said.

  “All right.”

  “He’ll come to the bar. Make sure it’s vacated of other customers.” Orlando glanced over at the one remaining drinker.

  “Of course,” Damon said.

  Orlando walked away, intercepting Santiago and speaking briefly to him. Damon went to the lone customer.

  “Your drinks are on me tonight. Go find a table.”

  The man looked at him for a few seconds, then glanced toward the door and the table where the other gang member sat. Without a word, he raised his glass of booze to Damon in thanks and walked away.

  Damon had learned much of Santiago’s operation over the last several months. He began by befriending the members who made up the lower hierarchy of the organization. The people who moved drugs or guns. The people who sold them on the streets. Many of them came to Chicago for meetings. Some operated outside the United States.

  The international runners diverted legally purchased weapons from debarred countries. They bribed government officials to move them through those countries without licensing. Government workers didn’t make much money, so cash payments were common. They also targeted government stockpiling facilities. The US runners did the same, but it was a lot tougher here when it came to stockpiles. Santiago had made deals with corrupt arms manufacturers.

  And then there was his drug operation. That was where he really made most of his money. He had people who transported product across the San Ysidro and Laredo ports of entry and, he was sure, by other methods, such as underground or by boat or plane. It was a big operation.

  Damon waited as Santiago walked with the confidence of a ruthless killer to the bar. Alone and without backup possible, Damon had to steel himself into his role as a small-time drug dealer looking to make an alliance with the ruling gang in the community.

  Santiago was around five eleven and fairly trim in his fifties. His eyes were dark and beady and lacked emotion of any kind. “Damon Jones?” Santiago said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Santiago.”

  “I know who you are.”

  “Oh?” Santiago sat. “And how do you know me?”

  “I’ve seen you come in, and Orlando told me you were coming to meet me.”

  Santiago reached into his expensive-looking inner-jacket pocket. Damon concealed his concern and readiness to respond until he saw the man pull out a pack of cigarettes. There was no smoking allowed in the Foxhole, but Damon didn’t object as the man took out a lighter and lit one.

  After Santiago puffed a billow of smoke and lowered his hand with the cigarette between two fingers, he asked, “What do you know about me?”

  Damon bent to retrieve a short glass and put it near Santiago’s burning cigarette to serve as an ashtray.

  Santiago’s eyes met his in shrewd appreciation.

  “What can I get you to drink?” Damon asked.

  “Your best whiskey, straight.”

  Damon gave him what he asked for. “Santiago? You have a last name?”

  “Just Santiago.”

  That was all he wanted Damon to know. Or maybe he did really only go by that name. Everyone knew him as Santiago. As a drug dealer, he was likely proud having one name associated with him. With his commanding, almost six-foot-tall good looks, it suited him.

  “I’ve had my eyes on you over the last few months,” Santiago said.

  “I’ve noticed.” Damon played it cool. Santiago and his trio of watchdogs would know a lie. Damon had planned for this moment, when he could face the leader and convince him he could be trusted—when he couldn’t. This could turn out to be a major break in the case.

  “Tell me about yourself,” Santiago said.

  Damon reached into the reserves of background he’d been trained to recite in situations like this. “What do you want to know?”

  “Where did you grow up, and how did you end up here, working at the Foxhole?”

  Nothing like getting right to the point. Damon found he liked that about the man, despite his degenerate nature. “I grew up in Detroit and moved to Chicago as soon as I graduated high school. My dad left when I was a kid, and my mom worked two jobs.” Telling the lies was so much easier when the recipient was a criminal. “I worked as a bartender at a few other places before finding the Foxhole...and Thomas.”

  “Thomas is a good man.”

  Of course he would have that kind of opinion about a man who looked the other way when illegal activities were going on. Those activities had cost Ted his life. Damon had had to face Ted’s family after he was killed. He had to quell his anger over the injustice.

  “You found the Foxhole?”

  “Yes. I liked its patronage.” That should tell Santiago that Damon had searched for the right place of employment to facilitate his side job, fictitious but essential to the case.

  “Its patronage.” Santiago was testing him.

  “You know exactly what I mean.”

  Puffing on his cigarette and tapping the ashes into the glass, Santiago studied him.

  Taking the hint, Damon expanded on his explanation. “I had a gig back in Detroit, but here in Chicago I’ve noticed the marketing opportunities are limited.” He paused. “I don’t want to tread where I’m not welcome, but I’m more than a little interested in investing. I don’t want to lead. I want to make some extra cash is all, and like I said, I don’t want to tread where I’m not welcome.” That should be neutral enough to avoid anyone else hearing him and convince Santiago he was for real.

  Santiago met his gaze with deadness similar to Orlando’s. “I respect that in a man. Orlando has told me you are cautious. I also respect that. You’ve left subtle messages of your interest in joining my organization...but are you trustworthy?”

  “I never said I wanted to join your organization. I just don’t want to start a turf war.” Damon shrugged with his hands outspread in a peaceful gesture. “It’s just me. I like making extra money, that’s all.”

  Santiago didn’t respond. Damon knew he might not accept a connection like that, one that was so individual.

  “I’m sure you checked me out,” Damon said. “You know my background. Asid
e from that, every business deal comes with some uncertainties. I’ll work with you on terms until you know you can trust me.”

  Santiago smiled. “That, my friend, might be manageable.” He drained the entire glass of whiskey and set the glass down. “But for us to engage in business, there is something I need from you.”

  This was the part Damon disliked about undercover work. When criminals asked him to do distasteful things.

  “How much do you know about Ruby Duarte?” Santiago asked.

  Damon should have expected something like this—to involve Ruby. “What does she have to do with anything?”

  “We know you’ve been seeing her.”

  Of course they did. They had eyes on him. Damon had seen them from time to time. He expected that. He had planned for it. But Ruby’s safety was paramount to him.

  “I have, just recently.” Damon intended to plant a seed of doubt in Santiago’s mind. “She works down the street at a coffee shop I go to.”

  Santiago’s brow lowered. “You don’t know her association with me?”

  “With you?” Damon feigned ignorance. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about. What association?”

  Santiago remained silent.

  “Are you planning to use her against me? Like a soft spot?”

  Santiago chuckled. “That’s always a possibility. Everyone has their weakness.”

  “I just started seeing her. I’d hardly call that a weakness,” Damon said.

  With a hard, unreadable look that would be threatening to most people, Santiago met his eyes in silence for several seconds. What was going through his mind? For one, Damon made it clear Ruby wasn’t his weakness—thereby protecting her—and for another, he had given this gangster the impression he didn’t know Ruby very well.

  “Do you know Kid Mercer?” Santiago asked at last.

  “Not personally, but I know who he is and that he was killed by a cop.” He withheld any further knowledge until he could glean what Santiago was after.

  “Ruby was his lady,” Santiago said.

  “Oh. I get it now,” Damon said.

  “With his death there have been some changes.”

  Damon nodded. “One would expect that. I’ve been wondering who took over in his place. It’s good to know the man who did. At last.”

  Santiago smiled again, though not really genuinely. “I have a proposition for you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You’re in a unique position,” Santiago said. “If you really want to do business with me, I need you to help me find out what Ruby knows about Kid’s activities before he died.”

  Join the club. That’s what Damon had been trying to do from day one. “What exactly do you want to know?”

  Santiago glanced around. The bar was vacant, and only two tables were occupied, one with Orlando and his crew, the other with two men engaged in what appeared to be an intent conversation.

  “Just what I asked... What does she know about Kid?”

  Damon realized he’d have to give this man something. He had to be careful. Anything he revealed could put Ruby’s life in danger, and Maya’s.

  “I have noticed something,” Damon said. “I’ve asked Ruby about her daughter’s father, but she’s been closemouthed about it—to the extreme.”

  Santiago nodded. “She knows more than she lets on.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Get her to talk.” Santiago leaned back, more relaxed as he must have begun to trust Damon. “Mercer had a stash of guns and ammunition.”

  What? Damon had to hide his astonishment. He and his team knew nothing of this.

  “My organization depended on the revenue from the sale of them,” Santiago said.

  “I can understand that,” Damon said.

  “And we need them. Now.”

  Damon nodded. “You want me to find out where they are, and then we can do business?” Damon asked.

  “Yes.” Santiago looked satisfied. His dead eyes actually came to life for a brief few seconds.

  Damon’s mind reeled. This had to be why Ruby was so afraid, why she never talked about Mercer. New resolve came over him. He would fight hard to get her to open up. Not just for the sake of his undercover case, but more so to save her and Maya.

  * * *

  Ruby had another evening to herself. Maya and her mother were asleep, and she enjoyed a cup of tea and a book—or she tried to.

  Damon had to work late again, and he’d be at the pub until after two in the morning. They had been seeing each other almost every day. Ruby was afraid to let herself feel what she knew was bursting to be free from her heart. Heck, she probably had already done that.

  Ruby had thought a lot about why she was so against talking about Kid. Yes, she was humiliated and felt like a bad mom for her inability to protect the one person who meant absolutely the most to her, but Damon seemed like someone she could lean on. It was the latter that had her so reluctant to trust him. He seemed trustworthy...but was he? He was a bartender, but he was clearly capable of more. That’s what bothered Ruby the most. Instinct warned her not to let him in too deep. She had that feeling early on, just a few months after he had started coming for coffee. Why was she so attracted to him? He didn’t seem to fit his current profession.

  Aside from his sexiness, he had intelligence. And an affinity with kids. With her daughter. And her mother. And her... Ruby herself. He was kind and sure of himself.

  She had felt similarly about Kid when she had first met him. Kind, charming, good-looking. He had convinced her he had the same long-term goals. Family. Security. Love. He had seemed to have a lot to offer. She had wondered about his profession as a nightclub owner, but his business had a good reputation and was upscale. Her main concern was how much time he would be away from her. And any kids they had. But he had reassured her—convincingly—that he would delegate accordingly so he could have regular hours. Ruby had believed him.

  Now here she was, involved with a man who was a bartender—not a nightclub, but still too similar. Kid had been a charming snake. She couldn’t say Damon was a snake, but he had charm. The biggest difference between them was Damon wasn’t as secretive as Kid. Kid had a scary distance about him. She had learned the magnitude of that too late.

  A knock on the door startled her. She checked the time. Just after nine. Alarm sent her into defense mode. Her daughter and mother were asleep in the house. It was late for a visitor.

  Carefully and silently she made her way to the door. Peering through the peephole, she saw Damon.

  Why was he here at this hour?

  She opened the door a crack.

  “I’m sorry to have come here so late and unannounced,” he said. “I had a weird conversation with someone tonight, and I needed to make sure you were okay.”

  A weird conversation? “Who?”

  “A guy named Santiago.”

  Ruby didn’t know anyone by that name.

  “Let me in so we can talk.” Damon looked around as though fearful he’d be seen. Ruby didn’t want that, so she opened the door.

  Her heart now raced with unknown possibilities. The unknown was always the most terrifying.

  They went into the living room, where she didn’t feel like sitting. She folded her arms and faced him.

  He put his hands on his hips and took in her stance, not appearing to like it. “Santiago is part of a drug organization, and he knows you and I are seeing each other.”

  Her jaw lowered and shock ravaged her. She had never heard that name before. Kid had surrounded himself with people who had nothing to do with the complexities of his business. She had never met the men who worked closest with him. Kid had made sure of that. He had lured her along his deceitful path for as long as he could.

  “Who is Santiago?” she asked.

 
His head angled as though he thought she should know. When she said nothing, he said, “Apparently he took over for Kid Mercer. Your ex.”

  Her mouth opened, in further shock. Thoughts and questions bombarded her. “Wha...why are you talking to people like that?” Never in million years would she have expected this. Why was this coming out now—with Damon? Was it a coincidence? What were the odds? Now he was connected to Kid’s gang? And her?

  “I bartend at a place they frequent.”

  “Down the street?” She had moved, but she hadn’t moved far. She had moved far enough away from Kid’s nightclub. Just her luck that his gangers took a liking to the very same pub where Damon tended bar.

  “He approached me,” Damon said.

  Damon hadn’t known Kid’s gang members went to the Foxhole? Was it only after the man named Santiago had contacted him that he had learned Ruby had had a relationship with a drug dealer? Ruby had to gather her aplomb. And failed. This was serious. She thought of Maya and what this could mean for her precious little girl and nearly lost control.

  “But...how does he know we’re seeing each other? How does he know me?” She heard her own fear in her voice. She began to tremble. This was exactly what she had always dreaded: Kid’s men coming after her.

  “I don’t know, but they don’t seem like the type to let things go very easily. I was uncomfortable talking to the man.”

  Ruby had no doubt about that. She fidgeted with her fingers. What was she going to do? Maya...

  “When are you going to tell me about your ex?” Damon asked. “This doesn’t seem like a good situation we’re in.”

  “I left Kid as soon as I found out what he was into. He and his friends aren’t part of my life anymore.” That wasn’t exactly how it had gone, but she had planned on leaving him and taking Maya with her. And she couldn’t be certain that part of her life was over. Kid still haunted her, even in death.

  “What was he into?”

  “Drugs.” Oh, she so did not want to let that part of her past into her life now. She had worked so hard to get Maya therapy and to move on, to make her and Maya’s life better, safer. With the help of January Colton and Detective Sean Stafford, that had seemed like an attainable dream. Now she wasn’t so sure. Her fears seemed to be coming true.