.38 Caliber Cover-Up

by Angi Morgan

  Chapter Thirteen

  Darby didn’t know how to interpret the carefully guarded reaction of the half-naked man sitting on the edge of her bed. She did know that Erren had hidden every visible response to her brilliant conclusion. He wasn’t acting excited, mad or indifferent. He was deep in thought about something.

  Her bedroom had been a sanctuary all day, but he seemed to be smoldering just under the surface. She was ready to move, but he casually leaned across her legs, pinning her to the bed.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  He took her plate, setting it on the nightstand and moved closer to her at the head of the bed.

  “Do you trust me, Darby?”

  “About as far as I can throw you.” A nervous laugh escaped from her throat. He looked so serious. She could only see his mouth, wait for his body to connect with hers…and feel totally guilty she wasn’t searching for the package.

  “The information could be in the next room,” she said, in an attempt to distract him—Michael wasn’t safe yet. That smoldering look had been replaced with outright passion. Very hard to ignore.

  “I need you to trust me, hon.” He spoke, but seemed more intent on touching her legs and moving his hand up to her hip. The heat of his flesh burned through the thin material.

  “For some illogical reason, I’ve trusted you this far. If it’s about Michael, you can just tell me.”

  “Whatever we find, remember that.”

  He towed her into his arms and kissed her slowly. The heat penetrated everywhere. The tingles felt deep in her belly and shot straight through her chest. A mixture of tough guy and tender lover. A lasting kiss worthy of any movie farewell.

  Why him? Why this feeling? There wasn’t time to think about it as the kiss ended and he looked into her eyes. He saw past whatever barrier had been there for other men. He saw…her.

  Totally confused, she didn’t know why the conversation had turned to trusting him instead of where the package might be found. But then, maybe he felt guilty. “If this is about us sleeping together, I don’t have any regrets.”

  “Neither do I. Just remember, okay?”

  She nodded even though she still didn’t know why she was agreeing. Whatever the problem was, she needed to march into the other room and find Michael’s picture and the next clue.

  “Guess it’s time to go back to work,” he said. “I saw the pictures in the other bedroom. You ready to look through the mess now?”

  “Not a problem.” Had he kissed her to distract her? If so, it was a nice habit to develop. And no, she wouldn’t be all right seeing the little bit of family history she had left, broken and torn all over the floor. But she’d handle it…for Michael.

  Erren stood and she immediately missed his touch.

  His scrubs hung low on his hips, leaving nothing to her imagination after this afternoon. If they could find the package and deliver the information—maybe without distractions—something longer than one night could develop between them.

  It was a much better plan.

  It wasn’t her favorite plan. She’d prefer spending an unlimited time secluded in this candlelit room with her new lover.

  “Michael’s stuff is in the garage.” She sighed, forcing the sexy images from her mind. “You saw my photos in the front bedroom.”

  Would she ever be ready to look through any of it? When she’d found the ruined photos, her first thought was of losing her mother again.

  “Since Michael hasn’t been here at the house, let’s check his box of things first.” He stretched his arms above his head, a casual move that shouldn’t have mesmerized her.

  She stared, loving the way the candlelight flickering across his tanned skin turned him into a golden Adonis. She needed to get him into some clothes, before she lost control. “Michael could have brought the package here any time. He picked the lock at my old apartment once.”

  “Or he could’ve hidden it with your things prior to your move.”

  “I can’t believe we’ve been running around in circles for two days and the package was here all along.”

  “Why? Neither of us knew anything about the situation. Or each other.” He gestured for her to get up. “I think we’ve done okay, all things considered.”

  “The pieces were there. I can’t understand why it took me so long to fit them together. What if it’s not here?”

  “You sure have a crazy lack of self-esteem, Detective O’Malley. Weren’t you the one who just figured out we should be looking here for the information? Are you coming?” He waited by the door. “If it’s not, we’ll find another clue. Period. That’s the way things work.”

  She jumped from the bed, suddenly conscious of her bare bottom. Maybe it had been his calling her “detective.” Maybe it was just thinking about clearing her brother. She pulled out clean underwear, jeans, a T-shirt, turned her back and pulled on the clothes. She couldn’t search for Michael’s picture wearing a thong.

  When she faced him again, the pants had slipped lower on his hips, the definition of each muscle calling to be caressed. Honestly, she had to get him covered, or she’d never be able to focus on anything else.

  “I stored the box with Michael’s stuff out in the garage.” She led the way, leaving the lights off in the kitchen. “The box was in the corner by the hot-water heater. There should at least be a shirt we can grab for you to wear.”

  “You’ve seen me with my shirt off.” He was following close behind her. When she stopped to open the door, he trapped her in his arms against it. He leaned in close, whispering next to her ear, nipping her lobe. “There’s no reason to be uptight now.”

  He continued his nibbling down her neck and she continued to melt.

  “We…um…” She halfway pushed at his shoulders. “We need to find Pike’s information.”

  “Sure. I’ll get the box.” He reached around her and opened the door. “By the hot-water heater?”

  “Yeah, it’s not big.”

  He stepped into the darkness and she dropped her head against the wall. He was a definite distraction. Michael may be safe, but it was only temporary. She had to find Pike’s information and make certain it was delivered to Thrumburt or whoever else may need it. No matter how much she wanted to stay and enjoy time with Erren, her first responsibility was to her family.

  “We should take it back to the bedroom,” he said, leading the way.

  “When I moved, this box had a set of clothes, a couple of CDs and books. Nothing else,” she said, back in the bedroom.

  They were using a candle and flashlight to see, casting strange shadows on the walls. Erren set the box on the floor and popped the tape, looking inside.

  “Looks like the same stuff. Man, is that a Bowling for Soup shirt? Nice band. I won’t mind hanging in that for a while.” He popped his head and arms through the opening.

  So maybe she could focus now.

  They each picked up a book and thumbed through the pages.

  “And the pants?” she asked as casually as she could manage.

  “Probably a fit.” He leaned in for a quick kiss. “Are you worried you won’t be able to keep your paws off me?”

  There was nothing quick about her reaction to him. Each touch created a slow burn of need from somewhere that had never been tapped before. It built into a five-alarm fire. And she called upon those imaginary fire trucks to put out the flames.

  She had to. Her family depended on her.

  There wasn’t a microbe left in the box. She ignored his comment—and the kiss—and handed him the CD cases. “I listened to this music before I moved. Pike’s info isn’t here. You saw the box of pictures in the front bedroom.”

  “I’ll get it,” he said. “Cut the light. No need to notify anyone watching the place we’re here.”

  “We can’t move that mess.” She turned the flashlight off and followed—glad she couldn’t see much of his muscular outline. She’d love to stay in bed to look at family pictures instead of sleuthing th
rough them for clues. Getting to know this man under normal circumstances was very appealing.

  It had been nice to forget the responsibility for a little while, as she had this afternoon. The dreams she’d had after they’d made love had been much more enjoyable than the little green monsters she’d imagined yesterday. If she could hold those monsters at bay until Michael could tell the truth, she might be able to dream a bit more with a certain DEA agent.

  “That’s a lot of pictures,” he said.

  Each photograph was special. She’d packed all of her things from the apartment and knew exactly how each had been wrapped in paper, tucked safely away, to keep the frames from being scratched and the memories intact.

  “It looks like someone was angry when they didn’t find what they were looking for,” she said.

  The box had been upended. Broken glass, bent frames, a torn photograph rudely glared at her from the floor. Pieces of her existence were carelessly scattered from one corner to another.

  A picture of the O’Malley children, dressed in their Three Musketeer terry-cloth capes and stick swords, lay under the first layer of her life.

  “Michael said, ‘stick to man.’ He assumed you would ask for the picture.” She lifted the solid wooden frame her father had put together from their pretend swords. “This is what he meant. You’re the man and the frame is the stick.”

  “It’s not the right photo.”

  “I bet it is.” She flipped the frame over and the backing protecting the picture had been sliced and taped. She pulled the brown paper away and the picture of her brother was stuffed behind the front photo. Walter stood on a wooden dock with her baby brother beside him. His red hair was short from his time at the academy.

  “He really is one of Pike’s Guys.” The picture confirmed all the faith she’d had in her little brother. “He gave up his family in order to bring down drug dealers and dirty cops.”

  “Let’s get back to some light before you remove the picture so we can see everything.”

  Secret Agent Man tried to contain his impatience, but it radiated from each movement he made. No huffing and puffing, but a definite “hurry up” and she loved that he tried to stuff his hands into nonexistent pockets on the scrubs. He ended up interlocking his fingers behind his head.

  “No more torture.” She removed the picture then the cardboard and two phone cards were revealed—a microSD and a SIM card. “It can’t be that simple.”

  “Great, another freakin’ delay.” Erren sounded frustrated and wasn’t bothering to hide it. “We don’t have a way to read the data.”

  “Wait a minute. Sean found an SD/USB adapter on the floor when we were painting. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Hold this and stay here.” She placed the small cards in the palm of his hand. “Where did Sean put that thing? Oh yeah, the kitchen drawer.”

  It took a minute in the dark, but the light from the alley helped find the bright green adapter. “Got it.”

  Without seeing the information on the card, a feeling of relief filled her entire body. Followed quickly by a moment of disappointment that her time with her new partner was close to an end. It built hard and fast, creating a lump in her throat that she pushed aside.

  Her desires didn’t matter. Michael may never wake up. Pike was dead.

  She returned to the bedroom within seconds, staring at Erren who sat on the bed, holding the cards in one palm.

  “This is it. It’s almost over.” She took the cards from him.

  “So…let’s see.” Erren slapped his hands, rubbing his palms together. “Where can we find a computer? I’m assuming yours is no longer here after the search and seizure.”

  “Not so fast, cowboy. We can view everything on that prepaid cell Brian gave us.”

  “You’re a techno-geek and a pencil pusher. Good to know.”

  She scooped the phone from the nightstand and they both sat on the edge of her new queen-size bed. It was either the bed or the floor.

  Once the SD card was in the phone, she said, “Are you ready to apologize?”

  “Why should I?”

  She found and opened the photos application. “Because I’m about to prove that Michael is innocent.”

  The first photos were of people she didn’t know—almost normal pictures as far as she could tell. A girl, several men, nightlife…things any person would have on their cell phone. And then there were pictures of drugs being used.

  She thumbed through and Erren watched without a word.

  Fifteen or sixteen pictures went by and she thought she might have to apologize to Erren for her assumptions about Michael’s innocence. From the partying he’d documented, it seemed clear he was into the drug scene.

  Then pay dirt. She zoomed in on the JPEG and held it up for Erren to look closely.

  “We need to print these pictures so they’re easier to read, but that’s an evidence inventory sheet.”

  “How do you know?”

  “That’s my handwriting. I took witness statements and verified evidence. I processed the drug busts and substantiated proof for prosecution.” She advanced to the next picture. “That… That’s not right.”

  “What?”

  “I remember this case, and the numbers on this document aren’t the same as what I documented in the files. The drug bust was huge and this states it was minor.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. They underestimated the amount they confiscated. I confirmed the changes with the DEA. It was one of the last cases I was involved with, just before my transfer to the academy.”

  He jumped from the bed. “Where are your copies?”

  “I filed everything with the department.”

  He grinned, lifted his brows and nodded his head. “After two days of your note-taking, I am assuming you have backup copies of everything you filed. Backup copies that aren’t stored at the department.”

  “Sure, I burned CDs, but—”

  “Don’t you see, Darby?” There was no mistaking the excitement in his voice or his expression. “Pike knew. This is why he transferred you to the academy. I’m not here to protect pictures on an SD card. Your brother found out they were planning to eliminate the evidence. I was brought here to protect you.”

  “I’m not following.” She held up the phone with one hand and tapped on it with her other forefinger. “You’re here to deliver the package to the ADA.”

  “Officer O’Malley, you are the package.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You’re crazy.”

  Erren watched as Darby shook her head, thumbing more rapidly through the pictures on the phone. His handler’s face came up again and again. She didn’t know the significance of the man’s connection to the DEA. But their can of worms had just exploded.

  Hell, could this get any worse?

  “Not crazy. You’ve been shot at, chased down and your partner is dead. I’m surprised we didn’t think of this before. Makes more sense than anything else on this bizarre case.”

  Erren turned her in his arms and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

  “I’m not worried about me. There has to be more. Something to prove Michael’s innocence, not just copies of these files that connect cops to stealing drugs. This can’t be everything. We haven’t looked in the right place.”

  He wanted to brush the worry lines from her brow. Tell her everything was going to be great. He couldn’t force the words. They were lies and he was tired of not being truthful—at least with her.

  “These guys are good. You know it. I know it. Pike and Michael knew it. I’m going to make sure you make it to the witness stand alive.”

  He shoved her toward the bathroom, stealing the phone from her hand. “Now, get ready and I’ll take you and Michael’s evidence to Thrumburt.”

  “I think you’re wrong,” she said.

  “You don’t or you’d be arguing.” He smiled, knowing her brain was running through a list of possible things to dis
cuss. “We aren’t arguing.”

  “I could come up with something…” She threw him a tempting smile. “Or you could help me wash my back.”

  “If I get you wet and naked, we’ll never leave. Go.” He kissed her nose, and gently pushed her—shaking head and toned body—through the bathroom door. Once the water came on, Erren leaned his forehead against the cool wood.

  His partner was waiting in the shower—for him—convinced he was wrong.

  He wasn’t wrong.

  Joining her and forgetting about the world for a few more hours would only put her at greater risk. He couldn’t do it. He sighed and looked through the pictures on the phone card.

  Staring straight into the camera was his Dallas DEA handler. The man who’d set him up with Beavis and Butthead. Probably the guy who’d caught him in the alley cross fire and had shot the drug dealer dead when the cops had made the scene.

  Proof positive the drug operation went deeper than just dirty cops. The dirt spread at least through the DEA. And it would be a hell of a mess to clean up.

  So why couldn’t he tell her?

  How do you tell a woman whose entire life is her family and love of police work that she most likely would have to give all that up when she testified? Her sense of duty would force her to testify. He didn’t doubt that.

  He’d seen it several times in his work. He’d convinced witnesses himself. Testify against the big, bad drug cartel and the government will give you a new life.

  WitSec. Witness protection. More like witness punishment.

  The simple solution to keep these guys from killing Darby was to eliminate them first. He couldn’t do it. No matter how much he cared for his partner, he couldn’t betray everything he and Pike had accomplished. He wouldn’t denigrate the man’s memory by turning dirty cop. He wanted revenge for Pike, the man who’d lost his life fighting for justice.

  The not-so-simple solution was to eliminate the threat to Darby by finding a second witness. A person who knew more about the organization. Or creating someone. Infiltrating their operation would take time. It meant the worst undercover operation of his career. Portraying a dirty DEA agent who was willing to become dirtier.