“It’s pretty clear that Spade is laundering money for a drug cartel, and we’ve already identified the key players. Makes me sick that he brought his kid down here. They’re staying at the house of a drug boss.”
His kid.
“She said she spoke to her husband and her son and they were both fine,” Lucy said, surprised that her voice was steady.
“Carson Spade is a money launderer for one of the cartels. He’s here for some reason we don’t know yet, but just the fact that he’s here with a cartel puts both him and Jesse in danger. I told Madison the same, and she chose not to believe me. She’s blinded to the truth, and I’m not going to let her son be caught in the crossfire.”
Her son.
Would Sean really go down there to protect Madison’s son if he didn’t know that Jesse was also his son? Maybe. Because Sean would do anything to protect the innocent.
But he had seen the photo of Jesse Spade. He could do the math just like she had. Jesse would have been conceived when he was at Stanford. When Madison was at Stanford. When they were both young college students. Before Carson Spade. Before Lucy.
That didn’t bother her, not really. It bothered her that Madison had never told Sean, it bothered her that Sean didn’t know his son.
But it hurt—physically hurt—that Sean wasn’t telling her the truth about why he was risking his life in Mexico.
“So you don’t believe Madison that they’ll be home Friday.”
“I don’t know what to believe about the call she got from her husband; all I know is that Kane and I located them and we have a plan to get them out without anyone getting hurt. Okay?”
“Okay.” She waited.
Tell me the truth, Sean. Please tell me the truth.
“Is something wrong?”
Yes. You’re lying to me.
“It’s a tough case.”
“I wish I could be there for you, princess. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
I thought I knew. I thought I knew you better than I know myself.
“I’m hoping this doesn’t take much longer, Lucy. I need to see you. I miss you.”
You’re lying to me, Sean. Why won’t you tell me?
She almost asked him. She almost asked if Jesse was his son. But she didn’t, because she wasn’t certain Sean wouldn’t lie to her. She didn’t want him to lie to her, it would destroy her.
“Luce? Are you there?” Sean asked.
“Yes. I was distracted.”
“Kane’s almost back, I need to go—but be careful, okay?”
“You, too.”
That was it? Not even We have to talk about this later … There’s more going on, but I can’t tell you over the phone … Jesse’s my son, I’ll explain everything when I see you.
“I love you, princess.”
“I love you, too,” she heard herself saying. Her voice sounded far away.
She hung up. Her chest hurt because she wasn’t breathing. Her eyes burned. She wanted to scream, but instead she swallowed her emotions. She locked up everything. The pain would knock her down if she let it out.
There was something fundamentally wrong in her relationship with Sean that he would keep something so important a secret.
She walked down the hall to the bathroom and slipped inside. She put her head against the cool tile wall. The fan ran quietly, cold, sterile air pushed out into the small washroom. She tried to breathe normally, but each time she drew in air, a stabbing pain had her gasping.
She did not want to cry. She rarely did, and when the tears came she wouldn’t be able to stop.
Do not break down. Do not.
Breathe. Focus. Breathe. Again.
She had a case to work, victims who needed her to be at her best. Victims who needed her to be alert or she would miss something. Or, worse, put her life or her partner’s life in danger.
Eventually, the pain subsided. She could breathe normally, her eyes no longer threatened a waterfall she wouldn’t be able to control. She had no idea how much time had passed, but she didn’t care.
She splashed more water on her face. It was splotchy, as if she had been crying, though not one tear had fallen. She just looked crappy. She touched up her makeup and frowned. She was going to have to fake it. She’d faked years of her life, telling her family and the few friends she had that she was fine, just fine. It wasn’t until Sean that she finally was fine. That she could put the past behind her because Sean taught her that she deserved to be loved, that she deserved a life and a future and a career that she wanted.
She put the mask back on, the cool facade that had saved her time and time again. Why was it so much harder now than in the past?
Because in the past, you never took it off.
She straightened her spine, rolled her shoulders back, and left the bathroom. Noah was still in the law offices, pacing. Only thirteen minutes had passed since she’d stepped out to take Sean’s call. It had felt like a lifetime.
Noah glanced at her, but if he noticed anything odd, he didn’t react. That helped. She didn’t want to explain to him or anyone what was going on with her right now.
A few minutes later a tall Asian woman walked in and said, “Agent Armstrong, was there a problem with the file I prepared for your warrant?”
“Yes. I need to know who owns these businesses, the name of the lawyer in charge of this company, and the name and address of a person—not a business—who is responsible.”
“I see. I read the warrant, and it was very clear that you needed the entity or individual who owned those two properties. They are owned by a business. I don’t have the information as to who is in that business, but even if I did, that wasn’t specifically asked on the warrant.”
She was gloating, and Noah knew it.
“The lawyer’s name.”
“Of course. One moment, I will get you his business card. He is out of the country right now, but I’m sure he’ll contact you as soon as he returns.”
“Un-fucking-believable,” Noah muttered when the office manager walked through a secure door into the back offices. A moment later she returned with a business card and handed it to Noah. Lucy glanced over:
Brian E. Simmons
Attorney
At the bottom was a phone number. The same number as this law office.
“I’ll be back with another warrant, and if I find out that anyone here has destroyed records that I want, you’ll all be liable.”
“There’s no need to threaten me,” the manager said, looking wholly bored with the conversation. She turned and walked away.
Noah stormed out of the office. Lucy followed. Before they even reached the car, Noah was on the phone. “Hooper, you’d better be as good as Rick Stockton says, because I need you here, ASAP.” He listened for a minute, then said, “Good.” He hung up and opened the door when Nate pulled up. “Dean Hooper will be here tonight. I have a feeling that not only am I going to get a crash course in money laundering and white-collar crime one oh one, but I’m going to be reminded why I much prefer investigating homicides.”
His phone rang and he answered while Nate drove them back to FBI headquarters. Lucy was only partly paying attention to the conversation—her mind was definitely not in this investigation right now. When he got off, he said, “Dunning, you and Lucy need to go back to Laredo. Apparently Ms. Walsh has done some sleuthing on her own and came up with a witness who can ID several of the people in Walsh’s photos, and has a name for our Jane Doe.”
Lucy leaned forward from the backseat. “What? She does?”
“Weren’t you listening?”
“Sorry.”
“Yes—she found a midwife who has information. I have to meet with Durant, and when Hooper arrives I’ll be briefing him on the case. I wish I could be there—I’ll follow as soon as I can. Call if you need backup.”
* * *
Something was wrong with Lucy. Sean almost called her back … did she suspect there was something more abo
ut his trip to Mexico than he’d told her? Why didn’t she say something? He mentally went through the conversation he’d had, but he’d been distracted. She sounded preoccupied, and he knew why—this case had to be getting to her. An abandoned baby, a dead Jane Doe, two missing women. He should be there for her, dammit.
He was furious with Madison for going to his house—talking to Lucy, bothering her, upsetting her. Lucy didn’t need Madison’s drama.
Had Madison said something about Jesse? No, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t have … she hadn’t even wanted to tell Sean. And if she had, Lucy would have said something about it. She didn’t play games, not like Madison.
Sean hit the side of the plane. It was hot, sticky, humid in the middle of the damn day, even with the shade. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to get his son and leave. He needed to talk to Lucy. Tell her everything. Face-to-face. In person. Where he could touch her, hold her, explain everything.
One more day. Two, tops.
Kane walked up to him. He didn’t ask Sean what was wrong. Maybe he knew. Maybe Kane was a damn psychic.
“Gabriella will give the letter to Jesse. I pitched her the plan, we’ll see if she helps.”
“You haven’t even told me the plan.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“This is my operation! Don’t keep me in the dark.”
“You asked for my help because you need my experience. I’ll lay it out: There’s only one way to get inside the Flores compound, and it’s Trojan Horse–style.”
“So we’re depending on Gabriella Romero, who you said we can’t trust.”
“I’m only expecting her to give the letter to Jesse. I’ll be inside.”
“You’re fucking with me, Kane. Just tell me your plan.”
As Kane laid it out, Sean shook his head. “No. No. You’re going to get yourself killed. I can’t let you—”
“It’s just as dangerous for you, Sean. But it’s the only way.”
“We need to pull back. Madison is certain her husband and son will be back on Friday.”
“And I’m certain they won’t be.”
“Why? What happened?”
Kane hesitated.
“Tell me, dammit!”
“Get your shit together, Sean. If you think I’m not aware that you’re struggling—between your fear for Jesse and worry about Lucy—then you’re an idiot. Emotions are going to get us both killed. Do you know why I don’t get involved? Why I don’t want you working with me? Why I didn’t want Duke working with me years ago? Because you’re my brother, I love you, and it would destroy me if you died. You don’t remember what it was like after Molly overdosed. You have no idea what I did, what I am capable of doing. My emotions interfered, and I made huge mistakes. I can’t afford to make mistakes, and emotions have no place in this business.”
Sean took a deep breath. “I get it.”
“Jose Flores, the youngest of the four brothers and the one Gabriella is screwing in order to get inside, told her that Dominick isn’t happy about something major that messed with their laundering operation. She has no details—and even if she did, she wouldn’t share them in case it got out and messed with her revenge plot. But she thinks he blames Spade. Spade’s here to fix it, which makes me think he screwed it up to begin with. Do you think that someone like Dom Flores is going to let him walk away? The only reason Gabriella is helping us is because she doesn’t want the kid hurt. But make no mistake about it—she will betray us if it saves her own ass.”
“So what you’re saying is that Flores is going to kill Spade and Jesse?”
“I think Jesse is here as insurance to ensure that Spade doesn’t screw up whatever it is he’s doing. And if he does—Jesse will pay the price.”
“Spade has to know that.”
Kane nodded.
“Bastard.”
“Are you ready?”
“I hate this plan.”
“It’s the only way.”
“When does Jack arrive?”
“Soon. And then everything will happen very fast.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
After dropping Noah off at FBI headquarters, Nate took Lucy to her house so she could pack an overnight bag. He told her he already had a go-bag in the car.
“Of course you do,” she mumbled.
“What’s bothering you?”
“Just tired.” She went upstairs to avoid any more questions. Nate was Sean’s friend, she reminded herself. She didn’t need him reporting back to Sean that something was bothering her. Hell yes, something was bothering her.
She didn’t know if they would need to stay, but since there was a room for them and it was a nearly two-hour drive each way—and they didn’t know what they would need to do when they arrived—it was better to plan on staying.
It was after one by the time they got on the road, but they didn’t have much traffic to worry about. Lucy called Siobhan to get all the details straight from her, then she called Zach at headquarters to ask him to run Loretta Martinez at the address Siobhan had given her. Then she talked to Noah to give him an update—though she didn’t have anything really to tell him. He hung up quickly, no surprise. She wished she had someone else to call to avoid the conversation that Nate had been trying to start with her, but after an hour when Lucy had no one else to call and nothing to pretend to do, Nate said, “You don’t have to talk about it, but I know something’s wrong. And don’t tell me you’re tired.”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me, Nate.”
He didn’t say anything for several minutes. “You’re never late. But you were late this morning.”
“I didn’t sleep much last night, okay? If Sean told you about my insomnia, that’s under control.”
“He didn’t, but he didn’t have to.”
Great. So she always looked like something the cat dragged in? Why couldn’t people just leave her alone?
“Is Sean okay?”
“Yes.”
But he hadn’t said anything about Jesse. Not when he found out on Monday, and not last night when they talked for ten minutes, and not this afternoon after he knew that Madison had talked to her this morning. Three chances, and he remained silent.
She wanted to throttle Nate because he was making her wholly uncomfortable. Nate had become Sean’s closest friend here in San Antonio. They were two peas in a pod. Just as Sean had bonded with her brother Patrick, he’d bonded with Nate. She was glad—she loved her brother, and she liked Nate, and Sean deserved to have good friends he trusted who had his back. But she’d quickly figured out that Nate would tell Sean anything. He wouldn’t share secrets, but he would make Sean aware that she was upset. He had an uncanny way of digging around and coming up with truths that she didn’t want to discuss. She didn’t like talking about her relationship with Sean, or what was bothering her, or trying to figure out if she was the only one in the dark about Sean’s son.
Sean’s son Jesse Spade.
“What’s really going on with Elizabeth Cook?” she asked. “I’ve wondered since I got here why she never went in the field, but I didn’t really think about it.”
Nate said, “It’s all hearsay.”
“You challenged Noah.”
“No I didn’t.”
“You commented.”
“I was fishing. I really don’t know what’s going on, but I’m curious.”
“And?”
“Juan’s our boss, Lucy. I’m a soldier at heart, and Juan is my commanding officer. He never sent Cook into the field, and I don’t think Noah should shake things up.”
“We don’t even know if Juan is coming back.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I’m the psychologist, remember?” She was trying to make light of the situation, but she didn’t feel light.
“I’d like to know your opinion.”
“This can’t go anywhere else, Nate.” If it went to Sean, that was fine—she’d already talked to Sean about it. He’d helped he
r come to terms with the guilt she’d been harboring over the last few months.
“Lucy, you can trust me. You know that, right? Have I done anything to make you think you can’t?”
“No, of course not.” Except that you’re Sean’s confidant. “Family is the most important thing to Juan.”
“That’s not a big secret.”
“It’s so important that if he thinks they’re threatened in any way, he will do anything to minimize the threat.”
Nate didn’t say anything.
“I’m the threat,” Lucy said.
“That is ridiculous,” Nate said. When Lucy didn’t respond, he added, “You can’t believe that.”
“Juan said as much to me. When I wanted to visit Nita and the kids after the baby—after Nita started to feel better—he said no. He made it more than clear that I’m not welcome there, Nate. When I first came to San Antonio, Juan treated me like family. Sean and I went to his house for dinner nearly every week. We enjoyed it. His family reminded me of my family growing up. The noise. The food. The games. It was exactly what I needed to feel like San Antonio was truly my home. And I love Juan’s kids. Sean is so good with kids, they all loved him.”
Her stomach twisted in a knot. Sean was great with kids. And now he had one.
“And I lied to Juan, and Juan knows it. And because of what I did during Operation Heatwave, I brought a cartel battle to Juan’s doorstep. Them and us. And people died and were hurt and I know Barry Crawford isn’t going to come back, even when he’s regained his strength. I’m not naive enough to think that I wasn’t one of the targets. It was because of choices I made.”
“You were doing your damn job, Lucy.”
“Yes, I was, but I went beyond the job, and you know that. And while on the one hand, I’ve come to terms with what I’ve done and I’m willing to accept the consequences, on the other, I recognize there were many more consequences to other people that I didn’t even consider at the time. I’m dangerous, and I always will be. Nate, you of all people should understand that. I could have separated myself from Jack and Kane’s lives fairly easily. Not gone into law enforcement. I could have turned my back on Brad when he was kidnapped by the cartel and never turned the wrath of their anger against the FBI and the DEA. But I became a cop. And I didn’t separate myself. And I know, deep down, that I would do it again. Right or wrong, if I was faced with the option of breaking international law and saving a fellow cop or turning my back and knowing he would die, I would break the law. Juan knows, and he can’t live with it. So it’s either I leave, or he does. And I’m selfish. I want this job. I’m good at this job. I don’t want to leave. And I hate that Juan doesn’t think he or his family is safe around me.”
The Lost Girls Page 24
