Colton 911--The Secret Network

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Colton 911--The Secret Network Page 19

by Marie Ferrarella


  Which was exactly what happened. Murphy’s Law was alive and well.

  His path and Harry’s crossed almost immediately. Had he wanted this, Sean thought, he definitely couldn’t have pulled it off any better.

  Standing by the elevator on the first floor, Sean had just pressed the up button when an old, familiar voice coming from behind him said, “Hi, stranger. How’s everything going?”

  Recognition was immediate. He didn’t even have to think about it.

  He knew in his heart that this wasn’t the time or the place to have this conversation, but since he didn’t know when the next time might come up—if ever—this, by default, was the right time and place.

  Turning around to face his former partner, Sean pasted a smile on his lips. “Hi, Harry. It’s been a long time.”

  “Two years,” Harry acknowledged. The six-foot detective had lost some weight and had gained a beard, Sean noted.

  “I know,” Sean replied. Since he had run into his former partner, there was no way for him to remain aloof. “And I’ve been aware of every single hour of every single one of those days.” It was now or never, he thought. He really needed to get this off his conscience. “Harry, I just want to tell you one more time how very sorry I am for what happened to your wife and daughter.”

  Having started this, he just kept going. “The amount of guilt I’ve been carrying around because I wasn’t able to get there in time to save them almost crushed me,” Sean solemnly admitted. “And I never meant for what happened to them to wind up chasing you away.” Sean felt as if he had suffered a double loss, losing what he had considered to be his secondary family, and because of that, he had lost his best friend.

  “Chasing me away?” Harry repeated, bewildered. “Is that why you think I left?”

  “Well, didn’t you? Because you blamed me for not being able to get there in time to protect them? Trust me, I’ve lived with that guilt every day for the last two years.”

  “Then stop blaming yourself,” Harry ordered. “Because I don’t.”

  I don’t believe that, Sean thought. “If that were true, then why did you get a transfer?” He didn’t believe Harry’s protestations.

  “I didn’t get a transfer because of you,” Harry told him. “I got a transfer because I needed a fresh start. I wanted to be around people who didn’t have pity in their eyes every time they looked at me. There’s just so much silence a man can endure when he enters a room. Hell, it was bad enough that I was pitying myself. I didn’t need to have that reinforced a dozen times a day because of the people I encountered.”

  Sean could see his point. And it was a total relief to know that his old friend didn’t hold him responsible for what had happened.

  “So how are you doing?” Sean asked. They hadn’t talked in those two years. There was a lot to catch up on once this whole episode was in his rearview mirror.

  Harry shrugged, not certain where to begin. “Well, it’s been over two years and I’ve started to move on—I think,” he added a little hesitantly.

  Sean thought of the women he had met at January’s parents’ house. “If you’re interested in testing the waters, just say the word. My girl has a couple of single sisters and a female cousin who are nothing short of knockouts. I’m sure I can get you fixed up with any one of them.”

  Harry looked stunned, but not for the reason that Sean would have assumed. “Hey, hold it a second. Back up.”

  “You don’t want to get fixed up?” Sean guessed, thinking that maybe he had gotten his signals confused.

  “No, it’s not that.” Harry quickly denied that idea. “My girl?” he repeated quizzically. “You have a girl? Since when?”

  “Well, I haven’t exactly been living under a rock,” Sean protested. He didn’t have time to go into that now, but he definitely would, he promised himself.

  Harry laughed. The elevator arrived and they both got on. For now, they had the car to themselves. “The Sean Stafford I knew had a permanent residence under a rock. As I recall, you were always saying you were too busy to socialize.” Harry grinned at him. “Congratulations for coming out from under that rock and finally joining the living.”

  “Does that mean you want me to fix you up?” Sean asked.

  “That means that when this is finally over,” Harry said, referring to what Cruz had told him was going on, “and we have that rat-bastard Mercer behind bars, we can give it a try. But for now, tell me what you’re involved in and just how much backup you think you’re going to need.”

  “Does the word army bring an image to mind?” Sean asked.

  The elevator stopped and opened its doors. Harry put his hand on Sean’s back, ushering him out. “Why don’t we go see my lieutenant and you can tell him what you need?” Harry urged.

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Sean agreed, following his old partner.

  * * *

  “I don’t like it,” Sean declared.

  After his meeting with the lieutenant at Narcotics Division, he had come home to tell January that all the pieces looked to be in place and his proposed plan was a go.

  That was when January had informed him that she was going to be at the safe house, as well.

  She was not about to be talked out of it and dug in. “Sean, if I’m not there, this guy is immediately going to be suspicious. If he gets word of it, he might not even show up.” She saw the expression on his face. Sean was definitely resisting the idea. “In order to sell this, I need to be there. Mercer is not stupid. He’s not going to believe that I let his daughter out of my sight, not after everything that’s gone down.”

  “I don’t like you taking chances like this,” Sean said with feeling.

  “I appreciate your concern, Sean,” she replied patiently, touched at where he was coming from. After all, he was worried about her. “But it’s not up to you. It’s up to me. I’m the only one who gets to vote on this and I vote yes. Like you said, this is the only way that we will ever be rid of Mercer. Rid of the threat he represents to her—and to me. I want to be able to sleep again, Sean.”

  Sean shook his head. He only had himself to blame. He had inadvertently pulled her into this. “You know, I should have never told you anything.”

  “Too late,” January said. “You did,” she told him, adding, “Now let’s move on from there. By the way, where is this safe house?”

  “Not all that far from here,” Sean said, reluctant to disclose the exact address until the time came. He still looked rather dubious about having her take up residence in the safe house. “Are you sure I can’t talk you out of staying there?” He had no idea when Mercer was going to show up at the house. Most likely when they least expected it. “You know you would make my job a whole lot easier if you just go where I tell you to.”

  “What fun is that?” she asked innocently. And then January became serious. “You know I’m right, Sean. And besides, what safer place for me to be than in the heart of a police operation?”

  “Any one of a dozen places,” he answered. “Maybe two dozen.”

  “Why Detective Stafford,” she cried, blinking her eyelashes at him in double time. “I never knew you to exaggerate.”

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he told her.

  “So now you’re desperate?” January asked, amused.

  His eyes met hers. “Now I’m a lot of things I never was before.”

  But even as he said it, he knew there was no talking her out of this and he would be lying if a part of him, albeit a very small part, didn’t admit that her feisty spirit was one of the things that he loved about her. The only thing he worried about was that that same feisty spirit would wind up getting her into trouble that neither one of them was prepared for.

  “Don’t worry,” she told him, brushing her lips against his in a quick, affectionate kiss. “I’m not going to take any unnecessary cha
nces.”

  “That doesn’t exactly comfort me,” he told her, “because the way you think, you probably see a lot of chances as being necessary.”

  January laughed, tickled. “You, Detective Stafford, have just got to stop peeking into my diary. A woman needs to have some secrets.”

  He was not amused right now. He was worried. “A woman needs to remain alive in order to have those secrets.”

  They were getting nowhere, and she didn’t want to keep going around in circles. “We are going to argue this into the ground, Sean. Let’s just agree to disagree—and let me go ahead with your plan,” she told him.

  He had an alternate idea. “I could just tie you up and leave you in the closet,” Sean suggested.

  But January was not about to budge. Mentally, she was already living in a world where all this was behind her, and she wasn’t about to give that up.

  “You could try,” she told him. “But I promise you, it’s not going to be easy—and there’ll be bite marks and bruising,” she added with a confident smile.

  Sean shook his head as he slipped an arm around her shoulders and drew her closer to him. “You are one hell of a handful,” he told her.

  January saw no reason to argue. “I am,” she agreed, then said with a smile, “And I’m all yours.”

  “Lucky me,” he commented.

  The corners of her mouth curved just as her eyes joined in on the smile. “And don’t you forget it,” she told him.

  “Me? Forget the best thing that ever happened to me?” he asked innocently. “I wouldn’t dare. All right, if you’re determined to go through with this, are you ready?” he asked, even as he told himself he shouldn’t be doing this.

  “Detective, I was born ready,” she said, just as her heart began to pound.

  “That,” he responded grimly, “is exactly what I’m afraid of.” He looked at the screen on his phone and read the text that had just come in. His backup team was in place. “Okay, get ‘Maya’ and let’s do this,” he said.

  Chapter 21

  Sean was beginning to think that this whole safe-house setup had been a bad idea.

  It had been two days now since “Maya” and January moved into the safe house. At some point, the real Maya would be permanently transferring to another state and another identity.

  Two days and there had been no unwanted visitors.

  No visitors at all, Sean thought, feeling restless. The only one who had come by in all that time was a delivery boy from a local supermarket. That had been on the first full day that residency had been set up.

  Sean was really becoming antsy, not to mention that his body was cramping up. Except for a few hours when one of the Narcotics detectives had taken over the watch—Sean had slept in the back seat of the car then—Sean had remained on duty and on his guard the entire time.

  If something didn’t happen soon, like by tomorrow, he would be sorely tempted to just pack it all in. Admittedly, this plan had been a shot in the dark, and like so many of those, Sean thought ruefully, it had hit nothing.

  It looked as if, he decided, they would have to find some other way to bring down the drug cartel chieftain.

  But what?

  Sean had been banking on Mercer’s attachment to his flesh and blood to reel him in. What else could be used to motivate—

  Sean sat up straighter. He was positive that he had heard a noise. When all of this had been set up, a sophisticated version of a baby monitor had been put in the living room and another one was placed in the bedroom where January was staying with Maya. He had quickly become attuned to all the normal noises in the house and this particular noise definitely wasn’t normal, he thought.

  Every single bone in his body told him that someone who shouldn’t be was in the house.

  Scanning the area, Sean tried to zero in on something that didn’t belong. A car parked where it shouldn’t have been, someone walking their dog who normally wasn’t out at this time. Two people taking an evening stroll.

  But nothing was out of place.

  That didn’t mean that there wasn’t something amiss, Sean thought.

  “Hey Donavan, are you hearing this?” he asked Donavan, talking into a walkie-talkie to one of the officers who was staked out in a vehicle a block away.

  There was no answer.

  That wasn’t good, Sean thought.

  Feeling uneasy, he decided not to bother checking in with January. He would go to the house and scope things out for himself.

  But even as he got out of the car and began to head for the safe house, he heard January’s voice. There was an edge to it.

  She was talking to someone, challenging them and enunciating clearly.

  Sean knew that was for his benefit. He stepped up his pace.

  “Who are you?” he heard January demanding angrily. “How did you get in? What are you doing here?”

  “You ask too many questions, lady,” a deep voice answered. “That’s a quick way to wind up dead. Too bad no one ever taught you not to be so nosy.”

  Sean heard her ask, “What do you want?”

  Damn it, January, stop trying to goad him, he thought, afraid for her.

  “I’m here to claim what is mine,” the man answered.

  Mercer!

  Sean was running now, but he still wasn’t close enough to the safe house. He would have preferred using his car, but the sound of the approaching vehicle would have definitely tipped off the drug lord.

  Sean had his phone in his hand.

  He hit the conference call button, connecting with all the other police officers staked out in the immediate area.

  “Mercer’s in the house. I repeat, Mercer’s in the house. I need every available backup closing in now!” he said emphatically.

  “I’d leave now if I were you,” Sean heard January saying to her unwanted visitor.

  Just stall, January, Sean thought. There was such a thing as being foolhardy and he was terrified that she had crossed that line.

  “Not without my daughter!” he heard Mercer growl. It wasn’t hard to envision the rest of the scenario.

  As January held her breath and watched, Mercer made his way over to his daughter’s bed. The drug lord pulled down Maya’s covers so he could grab the little girl and make off with her.

  For one frozen moment, Mercer stared at the uncovered figure in the bed, stunned.

  “A doll?” he cried. “You put a damn doll in her bed?” Pure rage contorted the man’s deeply tanned face. “Where is she?” he demanded. “You’ve got one chance to live. Tell me where she is! Maya!” he called out in frustration, searching for the little girl.

  “Don’t you know your daughter can’t hear you?” January asked him in disbelief.

  Mercer’s face had darkened to the point that January found it frightening.

  “I know that!” he screamed in her face. “Don’t tell me about my daughter! She belongs with me!” The cartel leader raised his weapon, aiming his gun at January. “Now where is she?” he demanded. “Tell me and I’ll make this quick, otherwise—”

  He didn’t finish.

  He didn’t have to.

  January was stalling, attempting to give Sean as much time as she could to get here. She knew he had to be listening—unless this monster had already done something to him, she suddenly thought.

  Oh Lord, please let me be wrong, she prayed, afraid of where her thoughts were leading her. Sean had to be all right. He had to be.

  Her eyes met the drug lord’s. “If you really cared about your daughter, you’d give her up and let her live with someone who could give her a decent, normal life and help her live it.”

  Mercer sneered. “Same garbage that her mother tried to pull.” He waved away the suggestion. “That didn’t end well for her. Now this is your last chance. Tell me where my daughter is or you’re
going to suffer a very painful, slow death!” he threatened nastily.

  “She’s where you can’t get her,” January answered defiantly.

  “Too bad for you.” The cartel lord raised his weapon, ominously cocking it.

  “Drop the gun, Mercer!” Sean declared. Weapon drawn and aimed, he made his way into the room.

  January was so relieved, her knees almost buckled out from under her. She came as close as she ever had to collapsing. Only strength of will managed to keep her on her feet.

  “Where were you?” she asked, quickly hurrying over to Sean’s side of the room.

  “I would have been here faster if you didn’t lock the damn windows,” he told her, trying not to give in to the frustration that had created for him. He caught the drug lord’s movement out of the corner of his eye. “I said drop it!” he ordered. Sean cocked his weapon to bring his point home. “You’re under arrest, Mercer. It’s all over.”

  “The hell it is!” Mercer declared, discharging his weapon.

  Anticipating what Mercer was about to do—he had a reputation for acting irrationally, another reason for the nickname Kid—Sean pushed January down to the floor and covered her body with his own as he exchanged gunfire with the cartel leader.

  A wave of nausea seized January. She came very close to throwing up, but somehow, she managed to keep it all down.

  She could feel her heart pounding in every part of her body.

  It was all over in less than a minute, over even before backup had a chance to break in. Mercer was on the floor, a growing pool of blood forming around what appeared to be his lifeless body.

  January scrambled to her feet. “Are you all right?” she cried, looking at Sean as she quickly took inventory of all the visible places on his body.

  “Yeah,” Sean started to answer her. “I think that I’m—”

  “Sean!” January screamed as she saw the supposedly dead drug lord raising his gun. He was aiming it directly at Sean’s back.

 

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