Over the Line

by Kelly Irvin

  “Georgie!” Piper patted her husband’s knee. “Your uncle is right, Deacon. We’ve been to many social events at Luke’s house. I know his wife, Cecilia. They’ve been to dinner parties here.”

  People who led double lives. Like Rincon. “People aren’t always what they seem.” Gabriella tread lightly. They had agreed in advance not to mention the detective’s alleged involvement. “When was the last time you were in their home?”

  “A month or so.” Frowning, George scratched his silver beard. “The Fourth of July celebration, I think.”

  “But we have an invitation to his annual end-of-summer fling.” Piper offered this statement like a surprise birthday gift. “We hadn’t thought we’d go because we have guests.”

  Summer in Laredo didn’t end until October. “When is it?”

  “Tonight.” Piper glanced at the slim silver watch that hung loose around her thin wrist. “It starts at nine—about an hour from now.”

  “Perfect.” George set his cup on the coffee table. With a glare at her husband, Piper slid a coaster under it. “We’ll go, schmooze, and take a look around. Maybe there’s an arsenal somewhere in the house, maybe your brother is being held there—”

  Piper clapped her hands. Her bangle bracelets tinkled. “I’ve always wanted to go undercover—”

  “No, no, no!” Deacon shook his head so hard, he spilled coffee on the slick Saltillo tile. He grabbed a tissue from the box on the table and knelt to wipe it up. “That’s not happening. If this guy is a gun smuggler, he’s a ruthless, amoral criminal who already had at least four people killed.” He glanced at Gabriella. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Jake’s death loomed on her periphery every second of every minute. “Deacon’s right. We’re not putting anyone else in danger.”

  “I don’t believe it’s up to either one of you.” George stood and held out his hand to his wife. “We’ve been attending these soirees for years without a single hiccup. The man is charismatic, generous, and quite the comedian. We’ll tell Cecilia we’re thinking of moving into their neighborhood and ask for a grand tour.”

  A killer masquerading as a good citizen.

  “You will not.” Deacon moved to the doorway as if to bar their exit. “You’re crazy. Back me up on this, Eli.”

  His expression cut from granite, Eli leaned forward, elbows on knees, fingers laced. For a second he seemed to be praying. “We would park nearby and keep the house under surveillance the whole time. We’d be right there. If something looks out of whack you text us or just get out of Dodge. It’s a chance to have someone on the inside. Someone they’d never suspect.”

  “I’ll bring the camera’s telephoto lens.” Chris stood as if to leave immediately. “The more eyes the better.”

  “They’ll spot us if there are too many of us.” Eli shook his head. “You get your photographer and take another swing by the warehouses. But don’t go in. Just do a drive-by to see if there’s any activity.”

  “I don’t like this.” Deacon managed to pace the length of tile between the back of the furniture and the big-screen TV that hung on the far wall. “This is more than they bargained for. This was supposed to be a safe house, nothing more.”

  “It is a safe house.” Natalie wheeled her chair toward him. “For the kids. I truly appreciate everything you and George and Piper are doing. So does everyone. We know what a risk you’re taking. Thank you. Eli knows what he’s doing. You can count on him.”

  She touched Deacon’s clenched fist. It relaxed. So did his face.

  George and Piper slipped from the room to change.

  “I didn’t bargain for this.” Deacon sank onto the love seat. Natalie moved her chair so she sat as close as possible to him. “I would never have brought y’all here if I thought it would involve my aunt and uncle in the actual investigation. They’re civilians. They’re elderly.”

  “I heard that,” Piper called from the stairs. “I am not senile yet and my hearing is excellent.”

  Deacon studied his hands. “Promise me nothing will happen to them.”

  “We’ll be right there every step of the way.” Gabriella elbowed Eli. “And you will be, too, Deacon.”

  “I never realized what cops went through until that scene at the house. I felt so helpless . . . so impotent. They held all the cards. They could’ve killed a child in front of me. Or Natalie.” Deacon raised his head and stared at Eli. “Now it’s my aunt and uncle. They’re like my parents. Give me a gun.”

  “Have you ever shot a gun?” Gabriella beat Eli to the obvious question. “Ever even handled one?”

  “I’m a Texan. Of course I have.” He grimaced and ducked his head again. “Junior ROTC in high school. I may have gotten kicked out.”

  “You got kicked out of ROTC?” Eli smirked. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

  “Shot the instructor in the foot. Accidentally.” His woebegone expression kept Gabriella from laughing. “Anyway, I have shot a gun. And if you don’t give me one, I’m betting Uncle George will. He has one in a gun safe in the master bedroom. I’ve seen him clean it.”

  “In an operation like this, I need to be able to focus on the bad guys.” Eli’s tone was surprisingly gentle. “I can’t be worrying about whether you shoot yourself in the foot or me in the back.”

  “Nobody is going to shoot anybody,” Natalie interceded. “This is surveillance. An observe and report situation. George and Piper are attending a party. While they’re there, they’ll take a look around. Nothing more. Nothing less. Deacon won’t need a gun, and Eli won’t have to use his. Everybody clear?”

  When Natalie used her mother-slash-doctor voice, no one dared disagree.

  “Crystal clear.” Deacon stood and squeezed past her chair. “But you should ask George to give you the combination to the gun safe.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Natalie’s gaze followed him to the staircase. “Where are you going?”

  “To change.”

  Deacon wore khaki pants and a blue short-sleeve cotton shirt with a button-down collar. “Into what?”

  “I assume we want to wear black. I have sweats and a T-shirt. No black shoes, but gray should be okay, shouldn’t it?”

  “Civilians,” Eli grumbled. “It’s too hot for sweats. Somebody sees you dressed like that, don’t you suppose they’ll think it’s odd?”

  “What then?”

  “Jeans are fine. A lightweight, dark-colored T-shirt.” He sighed. “Next you’ll want to synchronize our watches.”

  “Should we?” Natalie giggled. “Just kidding. Get moving. Piper and George will be ready any minute.”

  Dressed maybe, but ready? Gabriella studied Eli’s face. He had the same thought she did. No one was ready for this.

  Chapter 27

  Daylight reconnaissance provided the usual challenges. Eli pulled the Charger into a parking spot on the street a block from the gated entrance to the Donovan mansion after getting as close as he dared for a quick look. His parents’ home on the south side would likely fit in the living room of the Spanish-style home. Its elegant sprawl took up half a city block. His brief perusal encompassed terra-cotta roof tiles, curves and arches, balconies, textured stucco, and lots of ornamental wrought-iron work and rustic wood.

  He’d learned long ago not to judge people by the trappings. George and Piper were perfect examples. Kind, generous souls who lived clean, law-abiding lives. They had earned the right to live well through hard work and financial decisions. They’d certainly looked the part of Laredo’s upper crust when they waltzed from their home. Piper in her sleeveless white sequined dress that showed off still-shapely legs and George in his white slacks and emerald-green guayabera. They looked more like a couple about to elope than two people who might be walking into a suspected gun-smuggling criminal’s lair.

  Lair. A dime-store detective novel word if Eli ever heard one.

  “We’re too far away.” Gabby tapped on the passenger window. “We can’t see a thing from here.”


  “We can watch to see if we recognize anybody who goes in.” Eli itched for another cigarette. That was the problem. One led to two and so on. “As soon as it gets dark, we’ll reconnoiter.”

  She didn’t respond. The drive to Laredo’s far north side to where the country-club set lived had been noisy with unspoken words. She refused to stay at the house, and if he didn’t let her go with him, she would go with Deacon, who had insisted he take surveillance on the back side of the Donovan property. From there he would be able to see the patio, swimming pool and cabana, maid’s quarters, guesthouse, tennis courts, and what Sunny had described as an oversized detached garage-slash-workshop sitting well away from the house.

  “What do you suppose a place like that goes for?”

  “A million-plus.” Gabby didn’t look at him. “It’s an older home, but the landscaping is gorgeous and immaculate. It’s at least six-thousand square feet, and if the inside is anything like the outside, it’s a dream home. Not to mention the size of the property. It’s four or five lots.”

  They’d never talked much about architecture. Gabby lived in the home her parents built when she was a child. Eli had an under-furnished apartment downtown. “Your dream home?”

  “No way. Too many bathrooms to clean.”

  Eli laughed. “You can afford the house; you can afford the maid.”

  “I don’t feel comfortable letting someone else clean my toilets.”

  “You never had a cleaning lady growing up?”

  “My mom thought chores were character building. We split the house. Jake and I got bedrooms and bathrooms. Natalie got kitchen, living room, and dining room.”

  “She was the favorite?”

  “Always.”

  They both laughed this time. The laugh of two exhausted, semihysterical people.

  “Do you think he’s still alive?”

  The question quivered with barely contained emotion. Gabby wanted so badly to be tough. But she was a bundle of fear inside. As much as he would never let her know, they had that in common. So why did he find it so hard to let her in? To let anyone in? She’d earned the right. He took a breath. “I did something I haven’t done in a long time last night.”

  Her startled gaze caught his. “What?”

  “I prayed.”

  “I’m so—”

  “Don’t get all mushy on me.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” But she smiled that silly smile women get when they think they’ve won a point. “How did it feel?”

  “Like He might drop a boulder for my having the audacity to come crawling back to Him after all I’ve done.”

  “But He didn’t.”

  “Nope. He seemed okay with it.”

  “What do we do now?”

  Did she mean about them or about the stakeout? Easier to stick to work. “We stay put until dark. Then I’ll scope it out. If Donovan goes inside, George and Piper will see him. They can keep an eye on him.”

  She sighed. “Okay, but I’m going with you.”

  “Did you forget they’re hunting for you? They want to do to you whatever they’ve done to Jake. Be smart, Gabs—”

  “Don’t Gabs me.”

  More loud silence.

  His phone dinged. A text from Dunbar. Not good news. “They looked through Garza’s phone records. They didn’t find anything that helps.” No big, fat clues that would lead them to the bad guy and end this nightmare. “He made calls to his girlfriend, his mom, his uncle, and to your brother. That’s it. Nothing significant.”

  “It would’ve been too easy if he’d called Donovan, I suppose.”

  “Yep. The stuff of NCIS or Criminal Minds.”

  She chuckled, then groaned. “Why haven’t we heard from George and Piper? Maybe it was a bad idea to send them in.”

  “They’re the perfect undercover couple for the job. No one will suspect them.” Please God, let me be right. “They don’t want to stand around texting at a party.”

  As if to prove him wrong, the cricket chirped. He grabbed his phone and unlocked it.

  Usual people. Usual food. Usual small talk.

  Are u able to look around?

  Cecilia gave us grand tour. Nothing unusual except awful abstract art.

  Where r u?

  Bathroom

  Is there basement?

  No.

  Security?

  Tons.

  Is Rincon there?

  No. moving to patio/pool area for better look.

  be careful.

  Roger that.

  George was enjoying his role far too much.

  The minutes ticked by. A steady stream of shiny, freshly washed BMWs, Mercedes, and Jaguars crawled by. The sun apparently decided to prolong the day. It refused to sink in its proper trajectory. Gabby kept peeking at her watch.

  Finally.

  “Text Deacon. Tell him we’re taking the south end. He’s got the north side.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  She did as she was told. A few seconds later Deacon texted back. “He says the back side has the same wall, only higher. He’s headed in to get a closer look.”

  “Just look. Nothing stupid.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  Night-vision binoculars around his neck, Eli slid from the car. Gabby, who was in charge of the flashlight, did the same. He touched the holster on his hip under a Windbreaker he didn’t need in this August heat. “Stay behind me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Gabriella.”

  The use of her full name would deliver the message. He strode along the sidewalk until it turned into neatly mowed zoysia grass that fringed the low, faux-adobe wall that ran the length of Donovan’s property. Avoiding the manned gate, Eli slipped into the darkness at the far end. Gabby’s steps were light behind him.

  He peeked over the wall. A decorative fountain welcomed guests to the steps, which featured hand-painted tiles and curved wrought-iron railings that led to a series of arches supported by creamy beige columns.

  Faint music floated on the sticky night air. Saxophones and trumpets? At least it wasn’t mariachis.

  “I want to see what’s in the garage.” Gabby’s voice was silky cool. “And the guesthouse.”

  “We wait until the party’s over.”

  “That could be hours.”

  “Welcome to my life.”

  “Why are we standing out here now?”

  “We need to know where the security is headquartered. To watch their movements. What’s the security for? Are they guarding any of the outbuildings? You don’t just hop a wall and barrel into an occupied property.”

  “Good observation.”

  It took a second to register. Gabby hadn’t uttered those words. A man’s voice.

  Eli whipped his gun from his holster and whirled.

  Moonlight cast a sliver over Carlos Rincon’s face. He held his weapon in a shooter’s stance. “Not so fast, Detective SAPD.”

  Chapter 28

  “It’s déjà vu all over again.” Eli kept his voice down. He inched closer to Gabby. She didn’t move. Every ounce of her being focused on Rincon. His figure was silhouetted against the moonlight, but he appeared to wear black pants or jeans and a black guayabera. A black baseball cap covered his head. “You need to quit sneaking up on us.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question.” Eli eased in front of Gabby. “Are you a guest, or moonlighting as a member of Donovan’s security detail?”

  “Stop moving. I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Rincon’s weapon didn’t waver. His voice was low, cool, every syllable like chipped ice. “I’m not the one out of my jurisdiction, sneaking around in the dark outside a private citizen’s home.”

  “Where’s Jake? What have you done with him?” Gabby pushed past Eli. Her tone was equally icy, controlled. A very dangerous thing—for Rincon. “If you’ve hurt him, I promise you I’ll rip you to shreds myself.”

  “Señorita, I promise you we
’re all on the same side here.”

  “That’s not what I heard.” Eli grabbed Gabby’s arm and tried to drag her back. She dug her heels in. “I heard you went over to the dark side. You’re in up to your dirty eyebrows. You and Donovan both.”

  “You heard wrong.” Outrage soaked Rincon’s words, but he still managed to keep his voice down to a hoarse whisper. “I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but I don’t have Benoit. I’m not on the take. I’m trying to find your brother and bring him to justice.”

  “So why are you standing there holding a gun on us?”

  “Because it’s become impossible to know who to trust anymore. The good guys and the bad guys are indistinguishable.”

  “Ain’t that the truth?”

  “Don’t believe him, Eli. He’s scum. He’s got Jake. He may have killed him.”

  “I swear on the Bible I do not.” Rincon lifted the weapon toward the sky. His other arm came up in the standard I-surrender pose. “I don’t work for or with Donovan. I’m out here doing the same thing you are.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Investigating the disappearance of an ATF agent who is a person of interest in a homicide.”

  “So you’re following us.”

  “What are you doing outside the home of a prominent Laredo businessman?”

  “Put your weapon away and we’ll talk.”

  Rincon acquiesced.

  Eli did the same.

  “Eli—”

  “It’s easier to talk this way.” He eased into Gabby’s space and tugged her back. “We’re not exactly in a safe place. It’s time to huddle up. Let’s give him a chance to explain.”

  Eli squatted. Rincon ducked down next to him. Gabby crossed her arms. Her expression was lost in the dark night. A second ticked by, then another, and another. Finally, she knelt, but she left a large piece of real estate between herself and Rincon. “We have photos of you talking to Donovan at an industrial park he bought a few years ago. Why?” She produced her best assistant DA voice. “In the middle of the night. No other law enforcement in sight.”

  “Stinkin’ ATF. Always slinking around.” Rincon lifted his ball cap and resettled it. “I interviewed Donovan as part of Operation Talon. You know the details of the operation, I assume, after talking to Jensen.”