Undercover Lover

by Kylie Brant

  She studied Carter as dispassionately as her mood would allow. Her ex-husband had obviously gotten Sully mixed up with someone else, perhaps a former tenant who had lived in his apartment previously. But there would be no way to convince Carter he’d made a mistake. The two men had always detested each other, now more than ever. Dread was making a belated appearance, and curling through her stomach. She wondered to what lengths her ex-husband would go to make trouble for the man she cared about.

  “What do you want, Carter?”

  He cocked his head, and folded his hands across the file folder that lay on his lap. “Want? Why, Elizabeth, I’m surprised you’d ask. I’m only telling you this because I worry about you.” He let the silence stretch between them. “You understand, I hope, that it could be in the county’s interest to take a closer look at the doings of a known drug dealer.” He gave a small shrug. “Wouldn’t hurt to ask some questions, talk to his parole officer and his boss, if, indeed, he even has a job.”

  Incredulous, she shook her head. “You mean plant lies and innuendos everywhere in his life, and see what sticks? You really are slime.”

  He leaned forward, his gaze steely. “Sullivan, Roarke—whoever he is—doesn’t matter to me. He’s a loser, a common criminal. If I have the opportunity to make things difficult for him, that’s just a bonus. But you do matter. I asked you to do something for me a while ago, something quite simple.” He settled back against the love seat, but there was nothing relaxed about his pose. “You refused.”

  An unnatural calm settled over her, icing her temper as his meaning became clear. “So there’s a price for leaving Sully alone? Of course there is. With you there’s always a price.” Reaching a quick decision, she approached him with her hand extended. “All right, Carter. Let’s see the story you want me to give to the media about our divorce.” She fairly snatched the paper he took out of his breast pocket from his hand. Unfolding it, she read silently for a minute before giving an incredulous laugh. “You want me to tell the press that I’m psychotic?”

  “Honestly, Elizabeth,” Carter said reprovingly. “You never used to have this penchant for exaggeration. All I’m suggesting is that you tell any reporters who inquire that you terminated our marriage because of an emotional illness. That gives both of us a great deal of sympathy in the press, I believe.” He lifted a hand in a casual gesture. “You can tell them you’re receiving therapy, if you like.”

  She gave herself a quick shake, as if to dispel the mixture of amazement and fury tangling her insides. “Well, I can certainly understand why you don’t want me to tell them the truth. It’s difficult to put a positive spin on adultery, isn’t it?” She crumpled the paper in her hand. “Forget it. Telling the reporters that we divorced because of irreconcilable differences will be hard enough for me to manage. You should consider yourself lucky that I’m agreeing not to tell them more.” The smile she gave him was poisonous. “Much more.”

  “You’re missing the point.” The snap in his voice warned of rising temper. “‘Irreconcilable differences’ are meaningless words that satisfy only the divorce court. The media will be looking for the real reasons behind the failure of our marriage. You’re going to give them one.”

  “You mean you want me to back up the story you’ve already been telling,” she guessed shrewdly. His silence was all the answer she needed. Tom between anger and amazement, she surveyed him as if he were a stranger. Because that was exactly what he was to her. She’d never really known him, never realized what he was capable of. “You must want that city council position very badly.”

  “Oh, I have no intention of running for city council,” he said calmly.

  “What?”

  He allowed himself a self-satisfied smile. “It’s the publicity I’m after, Elizabeth. When contacted by the press, I, of course, will say I’m flattered and seriously considering the offer. After several weeks of speculation, I’ll regretfully withdraw my name from consideration.”

  “Why?”

  He was clearly enjoying her baffled expression. Fingers linking across his chest, he said, “There is a much larger prize to be considered here. City council would be a shortsighted move. District Attorney of Dade County... now, there’s a prize which could prove a valuable springboard to real political office.”

  “Of course,” she murmured cynically. “I wasn’t aware Marvin Postal was planning on stepping down.” Postal was the current holder of that office.

  Carter made a dismissive gesture. “Whether he is or not, I plan to be positioned to replace him. My name will already be well-known, and I’ll have widespread support in the community.”

  She went to the door and opened it. “Get out,” she ordered flatly. “I don’t want anything to do with you or your sordid little schemes.”

  Carter’s face set, then he slowly rose and walked to the door. “If that’s what you want, Elizabeth. Of course, if you don’t cooperate, I’ll be forced to make things extremely uncomfortable for your friend. But that’s your choice.”

  Her fingers clenched more tightly around the paper he’d given her. She wished she could doubt his intentions, but she knew he’d follow through on his threats. Sully would suffer because of her. The thought was intolerable.

  “Think it over, Elizabeth.” His voice was low, and he trailed one finger carelessly down her cheek. “Underestimating me would be a serious mistake. Don’t ever doubt how much misery I can bring to your life with just a snap of my fingers. And to your friend’s life, as well.”

  He moved away, and then hesitated. Turning back to her, he slapped the file folder against her chest. “Go ahead and keep this. I think you’ll find the facts quite compelling. I’ll call you tomorrow for your answer.”

  When Sully returned to his apartment, there was nothing he wanted more than a long, cool shower, whiskey and a hot meal. If he had to choose, the shower and meal could wait, the whiskey couldn’t. He’d just spent the past hour and a half with Conrad, soothing the man’s nerves. The man was anxious for Sully to please Vargas with his plans for the pipeline. When he’d left him, Conrad had seemed a bit calmer, but there was still an edge there that had been absent in their previous dealings. Sully could smell fear on the man.

  Conrad was terrified of disappointing Vargas. If Sully failed in his task, Conrad would be held responsible, as well, since Sully had been his recommendation for this job.

  He smiled grimly. Conrad would be held responsible, all right. And so would his superior. Sully was going to personally see to that.

  He removed the voice transmitter, wincing as he tried to loosen the tape without taking chest hair with it. He walked into the tiny bedroom and taped it beneath the dresser until he could get it back to Kale. He was edgy about keeping anything around that could blow his cover if someone got suspicious and tossed his apartment. O’Shea had ordered Lowrey to keep Sully’s DEA credentials, as well, for that very reason.

  He went to the kitchen and emptied the change from his pocket onto the scarred countertop. The silver dollar lay among it. Sometimes, he reflected, plain sight was the best hiding place of all. As he reached for the cupboard that held the glasses, a knock sounded on the door. Swiftly he moved to answer it. He hoped it was Lowrey. The sooner he got the transmitter out of here, the better he’d feel.

  But it wasn’t the customs agent at his door; it was Ellie. Without returning his greeting, she entered the apartment, a file folder clutched tightly in her hand.

  “Moving you to a better neighborhood loses its benefits if you’re going to come by unescorted” He watched with resignation as she moved through the small apartment, shrinking it with her presence until she was the focus. He’d been unable to rid the place of her image, her scent, the last time she was here. Today would be no different. Hours, days later, he would still be able to visualize every step she took in here, everything she touched.

  He rubbed a hand over his day’s beard, remembering suddenly his need for a shower. Out of the corner of his eye he notice
d the message light on his machine flickering, and he frowned. The machine was rarely used. Ellie had always refused to use it, and the one person who would hadn’t called for months.

  Ellie was moving through his apartment aimlessly, and still hadn’t spoken a word. For the first time he let himself really look at her, and what he saw had the worry changing direction. Her face was pale, her movements jerky. But it wasn’t nerves he saw reflected on her face. He’d seen her in a temper before, had been the cause of it only recently. This was more than mere temper. Her eyes were dark, lethal, and warned of a storm in progress.

  “Looks like I’m not the only one in need of a whiskey,” he said in an unconsciously soothing tone. “Why don’t you sit down and let me fix you something.”

  She whirled around to fix her gaze on him then, and something in his gut tightened in response. He doubted she’d even heard his words.

  “Carter came by to visit me again.”

  The name was enough to loose a burning blast of jealousy through his blood. The last time her ex-husband had dropped by, she’d been dressed in a thin, silky robe, only minutes from the bed she’d shared with Sully. He hadn’t been able to do anything about the possessiveness that had leaped through him when he’d seen them together, so he’d relegated it to the back of his mind. But that didn’t mean it hadn’t lingered there, unresolved and simmering. “What’d he want?”

  She held the file folder out. “To give me this.” She slammed it down on the small table next to his recliner and turned to pace again. “And to issue threats.”

  Sully reached out for the folder and flipped it open. He perused the contents quickly once, then again more slowly. Tension rapped at the base of his skull. Robinson, the son of a bitch, would have to be dealt with. He was capable of the cool reason to fashion that thought, despite the hot flash of panic circling in his stomach. How to deal with Ellie was a different matter altogether.

  He never lifted his eyes from the papers in his hands. She was on the move again. Pacing around the TV, lamp and recliner, she angled toward the window, as if driven by raw nerves.

  He closed the file, and set it carefully down on the table. “Looks like he’s been busy.”

  Quickly her eyes flashed to his, and her fists knotted. “It’s not true.”

  He watched her, his expression deliberately blank. “How do you know?”

  The look she gave him could have been directed at an extremely dull-witted child. “I know.”

  The sole certainty in her answer was an iron vise squeezing his chest. Trust was something he’d lived his life without, something he’d often doubted existed. To be presented with hers so unquestioningly made him want to throw his head back and howl. An undeserving man was never so humbled as when offered something he had no hope of repaying. He looked down into her dark eyes.

  “Did you actually think I believed him, for even one minute? Carter lies as easily as I breathe. That—” she jerked a thumb at the folder he’d laid down “is just an example. Either he made it up, or his investigators confused you with someone else.”

  Now he was the one to turn and move. It was an excuse to not have to face her.

  “He’s going to make trouble. I agreed to play by his rules if I have to talk to reporters, but he’s driven with ambition, Sully. And he doesn’t care who he has to use along the way. I don’t trust him not to go ahead with his threats, to talk to your boss, or...”

  He stopped and looked at her. “Wait a minute,” he ordered, his voice harsh. “Are you saying you made some sort of deal with him?”

  Her gaze dropped, then she angled her chin, as if preparing for a fight. Her next words guaranteed she’d receive one. “I think it would be best.” She lifted a shoulder. “It’s nothing major. I just promised to go by his little script—” distaste flickered across her face “—and in return he’ll back off and leave you alone.”

  In frustration he scrubbed both hands over his face, then dropped them to glare at her. “Why in God’s name would you agree to do anything to help him?”

  “Because,” she shouted, “he can hurt you!” She lowered her voice with visible effort. “Because I know him. He’s going to try and twist whatever he can get and use it to make your life miserable, just because you’ve been my friend. You don’t deserve that, and I won’t allow it to happen.”

  He felt like he’d been sucker punched. The thought of her dealing with her ex-husband, for him, was enough to send waves of sickness to his throat. “I don’t need protecting, Ellie. I’ll take care of Robinson in my own way.” His voice was rough with strain. “I don’t want you having anything to do with that bastard.” Especially not on his account.

  She released a breath, and rubbed at a point between her brows. Swiftly she told him of her entire conversation with Robinson, finishing by saying, “Sully, his threats are real. He’ll bend the truth, make up whatever story suits his purpose, and he’s got the power of the district attorney’s office behind him.” She put a hand on his arm and shook it for emphasis. “He’s not above using his office to further his own goals.”

  He swung away from her, unable to think with that small hand resting on him. Robinson had managed to unearth the cover the DEA had manufactured for Sully. The list of arrests, the conviction, the time served in prison had all been carefully planted to convince Conrad, and ultimately, Vargas, that Sully was who he said he was. That in itself shouldn’t be a problem, if that’s all he’d uncovered. Especially since Ellie hadn’t believed the story her ex-husband had told her.

  Unfamiliar emotion threatened to swamp him. Emotions caused by her generous gift of faith in him. With every fiber of his being he wanted to be able to reciprocate, to prove that he was worthy of that simple expression of trust. Never had he been more tempted to tell Ellie the truth about his life, his job. Never had it been more dangerous for him to consider doing so.

  Nerves dampened his palms. This investigation had already brushed against her once. Unbidden, mental fragments of memory flicked across his mind. Images of the packages that had been sent to the agents he’d worked with in Mexico, each one holding a piece of Alberto Ramon. The man hadn’t deserved to be kidnapped and brutalized simply because he’d supported the DEA’s cause. But savagery was a way of life among men like the ones Sully investigated, and there was no way he’d risk Ellie.

  He forced himself to put aside emotion and concentrate on logic. A part of him was actually looking forward to confronting Robinson. His fingers curled into his palms. The man had a lot to answer for, not the least of which was trying to use Sully to manipulate Ellie.

  Though she hadn’t made a sound, he felt her behind him and turned to meet her. The fury that had carried her had passed, and suddenly she seemed so transparent that he could pass a hand through her. For the moment he pushed aside his plans for Robinson. Right now it was more important to take care of her.

  “Why don’t you go in and find that whiskey. It’s in the cupboard to the right of the sink. Two glasses,” he called after her as she moved reluctantly toward the kitchen.

  Once she was diverted, he strode to the machine and pressed the button. He listened to the whir and clicks of callers who had hung up. The last caller had left a message. However, it wasn’t the voice he’d half expected to hear.

  He reached out and clutched the table until his knuckles were white as the disembodied voice echoed from the machine. “This is Greg Windham of the Jacksonville County Hospital. I regret to inform you...”

  He listened to the message, stabbed at the button, rewound the tape, listened to it again. The machine turned off automatically when it was over. Still he didn’t move.

  Ellie found him like that, still bent over the machine, silent and still. She set the two glasses down and hurried over to him, her hand going to his shoulder. “Sully, what is it?”

  It took a long time for him to answer. It took even longer for him to consciously uncurl his fingers from the edge of the table. “It’s my mother.” His voice was
empty, devoid of feeling.

  “She’s dead.”

  Chapter 10

  Carter Robinson pushed open the door to his office the next morning, and stopped short in the doorway, his jaw dropping open in surprise. The man leaning back in the padded-leather desk chair, with his long legs propped up on the desk, shot him a slow, wicked grin.

  “Hey, Carter,” Sully said laconically. “Nice office. Colors are a little femmy for my tastes. Seem to suit you, though.” With great deliberation, he selected a cigarette from the package in his pocket and lit it. His first perfect smoke ring hung in the air before he added, “Let’s face it, a man who blackmails a woman isn’t much of a man, is he?”

  After a moment Carter closed his mouth and entered the room in one long stride. The etched glass in the door, with its carefully stenciled lettering, shook as the door slammed behind him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here, Sullivan?”

  Allowing himself a measure of satisfaction at the wariness on the man’s face, Sully took his time answering. “Paying you a visit. Sort of an unexpected one. The kind you like to pay to Ellie.”

  The flicker in Carter’s eyes was almost infinitesimal, but his voice was smooth when he responded. “My relationship with my ex-wife is none of your concern.”

  Sully took the cigarette from between his lips and exhaled. “Now, that’s where you’re wrong, Robinson.” He bared his teeth. “You made it my business when you tried to use her friendship with me to manipulate her.”

  “I don’t have time to listen to you rant.” Carter turned and pulled open the door. “I’m calling for security to remove you from the building.”

  “Why don’t you do that, Carter?” Sully invited softly. “I don’t mind letting a few more people in on this conversation if you don’t.”