“You should do what makes you happy. I hope you get a chance to do that one day, although it still sounds dangerous.”
“Not as dangerous as what I do now, trust me. And thank you, I hope I do get to open my own firm one day, too.”
She kissed his shoulder and took a big whiff of his skin. Leather and citrus. “Thank you for sharing with me.”
He held her tighter, running his rough hands over her back and sliding his fingers up into her curly hair. “You’re easy to talk to.”
She purred as his fingers massaged her scalp. “One more question, and I promise that’s it.”
He chuckled softly and let his hand rest on the middle of her back. “Go ahead.”
“I know you’re good at what you do, but do you ever get worried that you might mess up? Like back at Beatrice’s house, when you told me to duck. What if you’d missed?”
“Missed?” he repeated, as if that was a foreign word.
“Yes, miss. People miss, Cruz. What if you’d missed him, or worse—hit me.”
“No way. In a situation like that, I’m too focused. I never miss.”
“You’ve never ever missed?”
“Never, mami. Not once. You doubt me?” Amusement seeped back into his eyes.
“Noooo. Who would dare doubt the mighty Cruz?”
“Sounds like you’re being sarcastic, and I don’t like it. But for the record, only a fool would doubt me.”
“All right.” She sighed but smiled softly. “When do we go to Logan Towers tomorrow?”
“Raheem and I want to check out the building, and he’s going to pull up the floor plan. You’re coming with us because you’ll need to pick up a disguise, and we’ll need to get supplies. We’ll head over to Logan Towers near the end of the day when people are less alert and ready to go home.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“You’re one hundred percent certain you want to do this?” Cruz asked.
“One thousand percent,” she said with confidence.
“What am I going to do with you?” He gave her a crooked smile and leaned in for a kiss.
Shanice eagerly kissed him back. The searing tongue kiss consumed her with its heat and made desire pool anew between her thighs.
When he pushed her onto her back, she shoved her fingers into his soft hair, spread her legs, and pulled him close—anxious for him to take possession of her body once again.
21
Shanice walked into the Logan Towers building as if she belonged there, but she carried a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.
Cruz had wanted her to blend in with the people coming and going from the building, so she was dressed in a gunmetal-gray pantsuit, heels, and wore a brunette wig cut in a short bob. She also wore non-prescription glasses as part of her disguise.
Besides the one security guard, there were only a few people in the lobby, and he wasn’t paying attention to anyone because his eyes were focused on an iPad in his hand. Logan’s office was on the top floor, but his accounting department was three floors below, on the eleventh. The plan was for her to go to that floor and set up the diversion.
She walked into the elevator with two men. The younger one didn’t pay her any attention, too busy arguing with someone on his Bluetooth. The other person, an older gentleman, smiled and she returned the friendly greeting, hoping he didn’t notice how nervous she was.
The three of them rode up in silence, but the men exited on lower floors. Shanice breathed easier as she continued to her destination, careful to keep her head turned away from the camera in the corner, preventing them from getting a good image of her profile, just in case.
When she walked off the elevator, she moved slowly down the hall, eyes searching for the ladies’ restroom. According to the floor plan Raheem had pulled up, it should be right…there—almost at the end, situated between two closed office doors.
Shanice slipped in and checked under each stall door to make sure she was alone. Then she went into the one at the far end and locked the door. Her pulse was racing, and she took a moment to calm down, briefly closing her eyes. Before coming here she’d been pretty confident, but now that she had to carry out her part of the plan, nerves were eating her alive.
“You’ve got to do this. Cruz and Raheem are depending on you. Do it for Dennis.”
The pep talk was enough to prompt her into removing the contents in her mostly empty shoulder bag. The plan was for her to create an explosion that caused the entire building to be evacuated. Cruz had shown her how to make the makeshift bomb, and they’d had a practice run in an empty parking lot earlier. She could definitely do this, she just needed to stop shaking.
After giving herself another stern talking to, Shanice took out a napkin and a water bottle half-filled with white vinegar. Cruz had rolled up the napkin like a blunt with baking soda inside. She was about to drop it into the bottle when the bathroom door creaked open.
She stopped.
As footsteps clicked across the tile floor and ended in the stall next door, she listened intently, belly bunched into knots. There was no way the other person could possibly know what she was doing, but her heart hammered nonetheless.
The other bathroom occupant flushed the commode and then her heels snapped across the tile again. She washed her hands and then exited, and Shanice relaxed and resumed the task at hand.
She dropped the baking soda-filled napkin into the bottle and quickly screwed on the cap as the liquid fizzed and expanded inside the plastic container. She left the stall, and with a brisk walk opened the bathroom door and peered into the hall. Empty. Now for the diversion part.
Shanice lifted the bottle, flung it with all her might toward the far wall, and dashed away. A loud boom pushed through the slowly closing door and echoed in the hallway.
Shanice clutched her chest, caught off guard by the volume of the noise. The explosion was louder than the practice one she’d detonated earlier. This sounded like a real bomb.
Hurrying down the hallway, she pulled the fire alarm and resumed her brisk walk. A few people rushed out of their offices, eyes wide and questioning.
“What was that?” an older man yelled over the ringing.
“I don’t know,” Shanice answered. “Sounded like an explosion and then the fire alarm went off.”
“I thought I heard an explosion, too.”
“I’m getting out of here.” She hurried to the emergency exit and pushed into the stairwell. Since the fire alarm had been pulled, the elevators in the building became inoperable, forcing everyone to take the stairs.
Shanice hurried downward, the sound of others rushing behind her. People crowded into the stairwell from the lower and upper floors, and they all made a haphazard, unorganized descent toward the ground.
She had to refrain from smiling. She’d done it!
The next step was up to Cruz and Raheem.
Seated in the stolen gray car between two buildings, Cruz and Raheem watched from across the street as people poured from Logan Towers. Cruz had set the timer on his watch the minute the fire alarm went off. He could already hear the fire truck sirens and glanced at his watch.
“They’re ahead of time,” he remarked.
“Even better,” Raheem said from the passenger seat.
Less than a minute later, the fire truck parked in the middle of the street, and firefighters started to disembark.
“We’re up,” Cruz said.
He and Raheem were dressed like firefighters, including the helmets. As the men and women darted from the building, they pushed against the rushing tide to enter. Cruz caught sight of Shanice and their gazes locked momentarily. Relief flooded him, knowing she was getting out without a hitch. He also experienced an overwhelming sense of pride. He was proud of her, and he’d let her know that later.
He and Raheem raced up the stairs, all the way to the eleventh floor. They stepped into the hall and into silence and went straight to the accounting office. Cruz turned the handle and the door swung o
pen.
The huge room contained eight desks, all with computers and papers stacked on top of them. There was a smaller office to the left with a frosted glass door.
“Accounting manager’s office,” Raheem said, heading over there. The door was locked.
Without prompting, he slammed his heel next to the knob. The frame splintered and the door swung open, crashing against the inside wall. He pulled his tools from under the bulky firefighter’s coat and dropped into the manager’s chair. He connected a machine to the computer and started downloading the files.
“How long?” Cruz asked, checking his watch.
“He or she has quite a bit on here, so about seven minutes.”
Cruz ambled over to the window. A swarm of people stood around in the street and on the sidewalks. Workers from the other buildings were also coming out to stare and find out what was going on. Before too long, they would discover there wasn’t a fire.
They had decided to have Shanice place the “bomb” on the eleventh floor because it would take longer for the firefighters to get up to that floor and figure out that something was wrong. Also because there were fewer suites on that floor, which meant fewer people.
“Hey, what are you doing in here?” The voice came from the doorway.
Cruz snapped around.
Shit.
He hadn’t expected anyone to be up there. He put a disarming smile on his face and approached the two security guards, quickly sizing them up.
The big brunette might be a problem, but the smaller Black man held a walkie-talkie and looked unsure that he wanted to interrupt. His expression suggested he didn’t get paid enough to deal with what was coming his way.
“Checking out the office to make sure everything is okay in here.” Cruz stood in the doorway, blocking Raheem from view.
“Doesn’t look like that’s what you’re doing to me. Why’s he on that computer?” The brunette angled his body to the side in an effort to look around him.
“He had to check something real quick,” Cruz said.
He landed three quick jabs to the man’s solar plexus and caught him off guard. He doubled over and Cruz flung a kick at the stunned Black man’s head. He crashed into a desk and passed out on the floor.
Cruz was about to pick up the walkie-talkie, but was grabbed from behind in a bear hug. More irritated than worried, he propelled himself backward and slammed them into the wall. The brunette groaned when his spine hit, and Cruz followed up by jerking his arms upward, loosening the other man’s grip. He sidestepped and brought him over his shoulder, tossing him hard to the floor.
The man groaned again, and Cruz yanked him up by the collar and thrust him headfirst into the wall, knocking him unconscious. He fell backward and dropped to the carpet, arms spread-eagle.
“Wrong day to try to be a hero.” Cruz tossed the walkie-talkie aside and took the Black guard’s handcuff and latched him to the foot of a desk. He took the other man’s handcuff and secured him to the Black guard. Then he removed their keys and phones and chucked them across the room.
“Almost done,” Raheem called.
Cruz re-entered the office. “You could have helped me.”
“I knew you had it.” His friend grinned. What seemed like almost no time later, he said, “Done,” and jumped up from the chair.
The two of them exited the office and started down the stairs. Two firemen were on their way up.
“Did you see anything?” the one in front asked.
“Nada,” Cruz answered, and continued walking. He and Raheem exited the building and went back to the alley where they had kept watch.
Raheem removed his laptop from the trunk and they tossed in the uniforms.
They took off in the car, Cruz driving.
“Let’s see what we have,” Raheem said from the backseat, and turned on the computer.
22
Shanice sat with tense shoulders on a stool in Starbucks, staring out the window, fingers clasped around an empty cup. This was the rendezvous point, and as soon as Cruz and Raheem were finished, they’d come to pick her up.
To her right was a man typing away on his laptop, and on her left was a woman whispering into a phone. Neither one of them paid attention to her, but she was very aware of her surroundings and closely watched each person who entered and exited through the door.
She had no idea what she was looking for. A tic. An odd glance in her direction. Anything to suggest they were more than the typical patron getting their afternoon iced coffee and pastry fix.
Then she saw the familiar gray vehicle pull up to the curb, and her shoulders relaxed. She jumped up from her stool, leaving the empty coffee cup behind. She climbed into the front seat and Cruz took off. Raheem was in the back on his computer.
“Looks like everything went well,” Shanice said.
“Very well. You did great.” Cruz’s eyes left the road for a second. He placed a hand on her thigh, and her skin tingled. She wished she’d worn a skirt instead of the pants.
“Thank you. Maybe I could be a spy.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” Raheem said before Cruz could even respond.
The three of them laughed.
“Tell me you found something,” Cruz said. His gaze flicked up to watch Raheem in the rear-view mirror.
Raheem didn’t respond right away, and Shanice turned in the seat to observe him. He was hunched over his computer and typing very fast.
“Found it. Precise, LLC is located in the Caymans.” There were a few more taps on the keyboard. “Ladies and gentlemen, we now have the account numbers for every account Precise paid into. All twenty-two of them.” He grinned at Shanice.
“Oh my goodness. We did it!” All she could think about was that they had managed to get the information and Dennis hadn’t died in vain. Her excitement was short-lived when she saw Cruz’s unsmiling face.
“We have a tail,” he said.
“What?” Through the back window, Shanice saw a truck and a number of cars immediately behind them.
“Shit,” Raheem said.
“Turn around and buckle up,” Cruz said to Shanice.
Recalling how he had driven back in Miami, she did just that. Whatever he had planned, she needed to be ready for it. She snapped her seatbelt into place and gripped the handle on the car door.
She expected him to move quickly through the traffic, but instead he went with the flow, cruising along at a normal speed.
Shanice glanced at him. “Aren’t you going to try to outrun them?” she asked.
“Too much traffic, so we have to lose them another way,” Cruz explained. Tension radiated off his skin.
“Which car is it?”
“The blue Lincoln,” Cruz answered.
Shanice checked the side mirror and saw the car in question. There were two men inside.
“Do you think it was my fault? Did I do something wrong?” She’d never forgive herself if she jeopardized everything they’d worked for today.
Cruz shook his head. “Could have been any of us, to be honest. Security guards caught us when we were in the accounting office. They could have called someone before we left the building.”
He seemed calm, but she’d spent enough time with him to know his mind was going a million miles a second planning an escape route. Smooth and easy, he pulled onto the highway. The other car followed.
Minute after minute ticked by slowly, and the silence in the car shredded her nerves. She felt as if they were waiting for something but didn’t know what. She didn’t want to speak and break Cruz’s concentration, but at the same time, she desperately wanted to understand what he was doing and how he intended to handle these people.
He was headed away from the motel, and she figured that was on purpose. Several times he switched lanes, and each time he did, the other car followed. Not right away, but after a while. That’s when it dawned on her. He was checking their pace, determining how quickly they followed each time he moved.
She
glanced over at him and he looked at her. His grim expression softened before he returned his gaze to the road ahead.
Accelerating slowly, Cruz pulled in front of an eighteen-wheeler. That kept them out of view of the blue Lincoln for several seconds, and then she saw them easing forward.
Cruz squeezed her knee, and the tension drained from her body. His unspoken message was simple—I’ve got this.
Suddenly, he took a hard left and swung the car onto the exit. Shanice braced her hand against the dashboard. Car tires squealed behind them, and she looked back to see the Lincoln had come to a halt in the middle of traffic. Horns blared at them and other car tires squealed as drivers fought not to hit each other.
One red Toyota was not so lucky. The car skidded and the owner swung the wheel to the right in an effort to avoid hitting the black sedan in front of him. He clipped the back fender of the sedan and a pickup crashed into him from behind.
During all of this commotion, a man jumped out of the Lincoln and ran to the railing. He pointed his gun at them and then dropped it in frustration, glaring as they followed the curve onto the road below.
Cruz floored the accelerator and weaved past traffic.
“We lost them,” Shanice said, breathing easier.
“Not for long,” Raheem said.
“He’s right. They know what the car looks like, and they know what we look like. We can ditch this vehicle, but the best thing is to ditch Houston now that we have what we need.”
The three of them remained quiet until Cruz pulled into the motel parking lot, and then they hurried up the stairs to their second-floor rooms.
Outside their door, Raheem handed Cruz a flash drive. “I copied the pertinent files. Here’s everything you need.”
He spoke with such finality, Shanice realized they were going to split up. The job was done. Although she’d only known Raheem for a short time, sadness came over her.
Until Now (Plan B Book 1) Page 13
