by Nicole James
Velvet took a slow sip of her coffee. The gypsy code ran deep inside her, ingrained since she was old enough to understand. You never gave up family, and you never talked to the police. She wondered just how much Sanders knew. Was he already aware of Vano? Did he know he was her brother?
When she remained silent, sipping her coffee, her eyes darting across the fake wood grain of the table as she tried to out-think this man, he leaned forward, elbows on the table, not giving her time.
“Look, this can go one of two ways for you. You tell us everything you know and help us nail the people we’re really after, and we work a deal where you do no jail time, or you continue the silent treatment and we book you.”
When she still stayed quiet, he studied her long and hard until she began to squirm.
“Ms. Jones, do you know the penalty for Federal Mail Fraud?”
She shook her head.
“Twenty years in prison. For each offense.”
Her eyes slid closed. Oh my God.
“That’s a long time to spend in a cell.”
“I’m innocent.”
“You were the one with the key to the PO box—a box we know at least a dozen people mailed payments to, and that’s only the ones who weren’t too ashamed to admit they’d been conned. You think, if this goes public, victims won’t be coming out of the woodwork?”
She thought about the phone calls she’d overheard at the shop. Those men had bragged about the amount of people they were conning and how easy it was. Agent Sanders was right; there would be hundreds more.
“Ms. Jones, my advice to you is to be concerned only about yourself. All the victims say it was a man on the phone, not a woman. Whoever you’re protecting is not worth doing hard time in prison for. I’m prepared to offer you immunity if you cooperate.”
“Immunity? From all charges?”
“Yes, if you help us catch the perpetrators. But you’ll have to tell us everything you know, and you’ll have to work with us to obtain evidence.”
She dropped her head. She did not want to go to prison, not for something she didn’t do. Was she as guilty because she’d known and hadn’t reported it? Maybe, but perhaps this was a way for her to do the right thing.
“Ms. Jones?” he pressed.
She blew out a slow breath. “My brother is involved.”
Agent Sanders visibly relaxed.
She pinned him with her eyes. “I want it in writing—your deal.”
He nodded and opened the file folder. He slid it across to her, pulled a pen from inside his jacket and held it out. “Read it. It’s all there.”
She looked from the document to him. “I can’t.”
He huffed out a breath. “So you’re not going to cooperate? You’d rather rot in prison? Fine.” He started to shove his chair back.
“Wait. I meant I can’t read it.”
He frowned. “Why not? You wear glasses or something?”
“No. I can’t read!” she snapped, all the tension of the moment getting to her. A tear slid down her cheek. As much trouble as she was in, she was still almost as ashamed to admit that fact as she was to be involved in all this.
Agent Sanders ran a hand over his jaw. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. Shit.” His eyes shifted to the side and he tapped the pen on the desk. “Okay, look, I can get the DA in here to explain it to you, or I can let you call your lawyer.”
“DA?”
“District Attorney.”
“Oh.”
“If you call a lawyer… Well, once they’re involved, these deals always go sideways.” He tapped his finger on the paperwork. “This is a fair deal, Ms. Jones. You cooperate, you go scot-free. We almost never make deals like this. I’m talking no jail time, no probation, and no record of any kind. That’s unheard of. I went to bat for you, because I’ve been watching you and—”
“Watching me?”
“We’ve had the shop under surveillance for weeks now.”
So they already knew everything? “Then why don’t you arrest Vano and his creepy friends?”
“Because I need solid evidence to nail them, and you’re going to get it for me.”
“Me?”
“You’re the only one who can. And you’re going to do it, because you’re a good person. Do you know they took money from the elderly? Almost all of them on social security, barely making ends meet. These guys have no morals, no scruples, but you do, don’t you, Ms. Jones? I’ve investigated your background. You’ve, for the most part, had nothing to do with your family since you became an adult. You’ve got no criminal record, hell not even a parking ticket. Why would you take the fall for this? You shouldn’t have to, not when you can help me put the ones responsible behind bars. And that’s what you’re going to do, aren’t you?”
She looked down, letting out a deep surrendering sigh, but still the words stuck in her throat. Could she actually do it?
“You know, Ms. Jones, I know about your gypsy family.”
She snapped her head up.
“I know about the years your brother did in prison. I know your father was wanted in four states before he died. I know your mother wrote bad checks in multiple states.” He studied her a moment. “You were brought up in that family. You weren’t given a choice. Your brother’s been running cons with your father since you were in grade school.”
“I was never in grade school.”
He took in a slow breath. “I suppose you weren’t. I know how gypsy families are. I know it’s the men who run things. I know you probably didn’t have much to do with any of this. The bruise on the side of your face proves that. Your father died when you were young, and your brother’s been running the show since the day he turned eighteen. Yes, I know your story, Veleena.”
At the use of her real name, her eyes narrowed. She supposed it shouldn’t surprise her; he’d thoroughly checked her out.
“You’ve had no one to save you since you were a child, you’ve had to save yourself. Well, now you’re going to save yourself again, Ms. Jones. And I don’t want you to feel one moment of guilt for doing it.”
He was right. It was up to her. “All right. Tell me what I have to do.”
He smiled. “You’re making the right decision.”
“I hope so.”
“I’m going to release you. We’ve made copies of all of the mail in the box, recorded the serial numbers of the bills. I’m giving it back to you, and you’re going to take it to the shop just like normal. We’re going to be watching for it to pop up in the next bank deposit, which I’m assuming will be dropped off as usual by you.”
He knew it all. Obviously he hadn’t lied about having the shop and her under surveillance.
“I’m going to give you some tiny cameras and audio surveillance equipment to plant around the shop. You need to get me something, some kind of useful information or evidence. Understand?”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll give you forty-eight hours to bring me something. Meet me at the Sunrise Diner at 3:00 PM day after tomorrow.”
“What if I can’t get anything?”
“You will. I have faith in you, Ms. Jones.”
Velvet never thought she’d be responsible for sending her brother back to prison, but it looked like she was going to have to do it. What choice did she have?
“One more thing. You try to leave town, I’ll know.”
She supposed that meant they’d have eyes on her. Normally, that would make her uncomfortable, but considering how dangerous Vano and his accomplices could be, maybe having agents watching her was a good thing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Liam sat in his truck, slumped down in his seat, a hat shading his eyes from the sunrise when Pam pulled into the shelter’s parking lot. He heard the engine cut off and her car door open and shut, and still he didn’t move.
Her knuckles rapped on his window. Finally, he straightened, dragged the hat from his face, and rolled down the window.
“You look like
hell,” she stated.
“Good morning to you, too.”
“You’re here early. What time did you roll out of bed?”
“Who says I’ve been to bed?”
Her chin lifted, and she frowned. “Since when are you the type to stay out all night? You been drinking?”
“Not in hours. I’m sober.”
“Um hmm. Come on in. I’ll make coffee.”
She was such a mother hen, but right now, that was what he needed. He knew he could go out to the farm and get the same thing from Ava or Mrs. Larsen even, and he probably would eventually, but right now he needed to let what happened with Velvet filter through someone who had more distance, someone who he knew would tell him straight and not just take his side. He needed to know if he was wrong.
The truck creaked and rocked as he climbed out and slammed the door.
The keys jingled as Pam unlocked the glass door and let them both in, locking up behind them. The place wouldn’t open for almost an hour.
She dumped her purse on the counter, and Liam trailed her down the hall to the small break room. She grabbed the glass carafe from the coffee maker and stepped to the sink.
Liam leaned his hip against the edge of the counter and crossed his arms, watching the water slowly fill the pot.
“So? Spill. What’s going on with you?”
His bloodshot, tired eyes met hers, and he sucked in a deep slow breath, then shook his head and looked away. “Everything’s gone to shit. I don’t even know where to start.”
“What do you mean everything?”
“I met this girl.”
“Ah, a girl. That’s the best kind of trouble.”
He gave a short huff of breath. “Not this one.”
Pam moved to the coffee maker and filled the tank, then shoved a filter in the basket and spooned in grounds. The aroma carried to Liam, and he breathed deep, hoping it would wake him up.
She finished and flipped the “on” switch. “Sit. Let’s talk.”
He pushed off the counter and dragged a chair out from the table. It gave an awful sound as it skittered across the linoleum. Nails on a chalkboard—that’s what flashed through his tired brain. He sat heavily.
Pam took the seat beside him. “Have I met this woman?”
He shook his head. “No, but I’ve been seeing her a while.”
“Where did you meet?”
“A tattoo expo in LA.”
Pam frowned. “A long-distance romance?”
“Nope. She moved to town.”
“Really? So what’s the problem?”
“She’s not who I thought she was. I found out she lied to me about her past.”
“Anything you want to share?”
He shook his head again. “She tried to explain; I didn’t really give her the chance, but it’s big. I’m not sure if it would matter—the why of it, I mean. It happened.”
“I’m getting the feeling this thing that happened, happened to you?”
“Yeah, well, to the shop. Her family scammed Jameson out of a lot of money, partly because I was an idiot and did something stupid. It’s a long story.”
“So, you cut her loose, I take it?”
“Yeah.”
“And now you regret it? Is that what’s bothering you?”
“I guess. I mean… Hell, I don’t know what I mean. I just feel like I was really quick to judge her and end it. It was the shock of it, the fact she lied, the heat of the moment. Now—”
“Now you want to take it all back?”
He ran a hand down the back of his neck. “Not take it all back, but… Maybe I just need to know what she was doing with me, ya know? Was it all some plan to… I don’t know what.”
“She’s the one who initiated the relationship?”
“That’s the thing. That’s what doesn’t make sense. I was the one who pursued her, not the other way around.”
Pam stood and poured the coffee, carrying them to the table and setting a steaming mug before him. His palms wrapped around it, taking in the warmth as he stared into the black liquid.
She sat again. “What you need Liam, is closure. And from the looks of those bags under your eyes, you’re not going to rest easy until you get it.”
At the reminder of how tired he was, he brought the mug to his mouth and took a big gulp. “Everyone tells me I should just stay away from her, just leave it alone and move on.”
“I see.”
His eyes darted up to hers, wondering if she agreed with them, almost willing her to deny it, but afraid she wouldn’t.
“Obviously, that’s not working for you.”
He let out a breath and felt a million tight muscles relax. “So, I should talk to her?”
She gave him an indulgent smile. “Honey, you knew the answer to that before you walked in here. But I’ll spell it out for you, because I think you need it right now. Yes, that’s what you should do, Liam. Communication is always the key to a relationship. And ending it like that, without talking it through? It’s not fair to either party.”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
“Can I give you a little advice about women?”
The corner of his mouth pulled up. “I suppose I need it, huh?”
“Never met a man who didn’t.” She grinned back, then leaned her elbows on the table, dipping her head close. “Listen to her. Listen, listen, and then listen some more, then speak.”
He nodded. “I’ll try.”
“Lying destroys trust; I’m not going to say it doesn’t, but we all lie at some point. Sometimes to avoid hurting someone we care about, or we don’t want them to think badly about us, or to protect our own selfish interests. She may have been worried she’d lose you. In any case, it was wrong because her lying took away your right to decide whether her behavior was acceptable or not.
“Look, bottom line, I can’t tell you what to feel or what to do, but the past is best left exactly there—in the past. If she hasn’t done anything to wrong you in the present, only you can decide if you want to try and make a go of it. Look at it this way, you’ve already been hurt, so what’s the worst that can happen?”
“I suppose.”
“Be honest about what you want from the relationship—with yourself and her. If you’re going to end it, do it by treating her with dignity, even if you think she hasn’t deserved it.”
He nodded again. “Thanks for the talk.”
She touched his forearm. “You’re like a son to me, Liam. I want you to be happy. If she’s the one, you better bring her to meet me.”
He leaned over, kissed her forehead, and teased, “Thanks, Ma.”
She rolled her eyes. “Go clean the cages.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Velvet stood at the counter, her eyes shifting to the clock on the wall. It was almost closing time, and the last customer’s ink was about finished. Finn was cleaning off the man’s skin. Cooter was cleaning up his station.
Velvet drifted quietly down the hall to the break room. She took a moment to glance around the room, wondering where to hide the dice-sized cameras that Sanders had given her. The sink and counter had been disgusting when she’d started working here, and since then she was the only one who’d cleaned it. She decided to stash it between two spray bottles of kitchen cleanser, a place she knew the men would never bother with. She aimed the device at the table and chairs, then went over and stuck the tiny audio transmitter under the tabletop.
She spun, checking over her shoulder, but there was no one there. She was glad to be able to get the two devices planted easily enough. Now she just had one more place to bug: Vano’s office. That part was going to be tricky; he always kept his office locked and never let her in there alone. She bit her lip, knowing she’d have to think of a way to accomplish the job.
She returned to the front. Finn brought his client to the register to ring him up, and Velvet straightened aftercare product on the shelves, keeping an eye on what Finn was doing. Her mind raced, trying to come up
with a plan.
Finn finished up and walked the client to the door, then flipped the lock. “Time to crank the tunes!” he hollered out. “You got any beer in the fridge, Cooter?”
“Yeah, should be some. Get me one, will ya?”
As Finn moved toward the back, Velvet ran an end-of-day report on the register and counted out the till. Glancing surreptitiously over her shoulder to make sure Cooter wasn’t watching, she quickly snapped a picture with her phone of the total amounts on the register tape.
Finn returned with three bottles of beer and set one on the counter for her as she slipped the phone into her pocket. “Have a cold one, Velvet?”
“Thanks, Finn.”
He gave her a wink and walked back to his station, pausing along the way to crank up the stereo. Pulsing rap music filled the place, bouncing off the walls and vibrating the glass in the door. Velvet tried to concentrate on counting, but the noise made her lose track several times.
Vano walked up behind her, startling her, then yelling over at Finn, “Turn that shit down and hit the road.”
Neither Finn nor Cooter argued with Vano. Finn grumbled a little, but got up to do as he’d been told.
“I’ll do this.” Vano slipped the bills from her hand and took over the counting. The worn faded money slid easily through his hands, bill after bill, shup, shup, shup; the stack of increasing denominations was quickly tallied up. He glanced over at her as he stuck the money in a zipper bag. “You want to take this to the bank and put it in the drop box tonight or take it in the morning?”
Velvet hated taking that much money at night, even with the FBI watching her every move. She knew saying no would also make him take it to the safe. Maybe that would be her chance. Plus then she’d get to take it into the lobby in the morning and give it to the teller where she could verify the amount being deposited. She could snap a picture of the receipt to compare with the total from the register report and give the information to Sanders. She had no doubt they wouldn’t match up. “I’ll take it tomorrow.”
Vano headed to his office to put the bag in the safe, and she tagged along behind him. She dug one of the audio devices out of the hip pocket of her jeans and closed her palm tight around it. “Can I talk to you, Vano?”
