“I do not know. Perhaps he will tell you once you place him under arrest.”
Judging by the glower on Beckman’s face, she seriously doubted it.
₪ ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪
Stevens removed the battery from his phone and set both aside. Something told him Rosetti’s inside guy had been found out.
Stunk to be him.
Unfortunately, Rosetti had given that guy Stevens’ phone number. And while the phone records and billing information would lead them nowhere, the phone number would enable the Feds to triangulate his position. He’d have to get a new number.
Or not.
If he was retiring after this hit, why did he need a new number?
The timing was perfect, actually. He’d really only need to make one more call from this number – to Rosetti, to let him know the hit was complete and give him payment instructions. All he had to do was go to a crowded place, make a quick call, and disappear forever.
Simple.
Rosetti’s contact had been able to give him one interesting piece of information before being caught – they’d changed Tanner’s appearance.
Good to know.
Anything else the contact might’ve shared was irrelevant since Stevens had already found their location. In fact, it was about time to head that way now. Although he didn’t honestly expect them to still be there when he arrived. They were probably pushing Tanner out the door right now.
But their hotel wasn’t far from his location. With any luck, he’d arrive as they were leaving and could plug his mark before the Marshals could hide him again.
He checked his disguise in the mirror and, satisfied that the bearded stranger in the pin-striped suit looked nothing like him, picked up his briefcase and headed for the door.
Maybe he’d have this job wrapped up before the night consumed the day.
₪ ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪
“He says he’ll only talk to Maxwell.” Lana turned away from the one-way glass of the interrogation room where Beckman sat silently.
Alex’s curse carried through the phone pressed against Lana’s ear. In all the time she’d known Alex, she could count on one hand the number of times she’d actually seen Alex rattled. It scared her almost as much as knowing that their team was down by two people because one of them had killed the other.
“At least he’s already en route. He told us to sit tight until he gets here, then he’ll help us relocate.” Alex released a slow breath. “You guys might as well get out of there.” She gave brief directions to their new headquarters for the night. “The other car’s still at the hotel. Maybe you can pick up our stuff while you’re at it.”
“No problem. And Reilly’s okay, right?” Never mind that Alex had already told her as much, she’d be worried until she saw him with her own eyes.
“Fine. Used the inhaler a few times, but didn’t need his pills. He’s more concerned about the fact that you’re not here.”
That sounded like Reilly. “We’ll get there as soon as we can.”
Chow signaled her from the hallway.
“Gotta go. See you soon.” She ended the call and walked toward Chow.
“One of the officers will deposit us at the hotel. He is waiting for us now.” Chow indicated a uniformed man with the posture of a bulldog.
As she followed the officer, her gaze strayed to a wall clock. Almost eleven. No wonder she was tired. Especially since she hadn’t gotten much sleep after climbing into bed that morning.
Had it really only been that morning? The memory felt like something buried underneath layers of time.
The officer dropped them in front of the hotel.
She and Chow rode the elevator in silence, swept both rooms, including the balconies, and got to work.
While Chow disconnected their cameras, she brought up the video feed for the hallway. Since the system was only programmed to record when there was movement, there shouldn’t be too much footage to weed through.
People came and went, most of whom she recognized as occupants of the surrounding rooms. She slowed the tape as a well-dressed man in a suit stepped out of the elevator and looked around.
Not someone she recognized.
And that briefcase he carried was large enough to hold a disassembled rifle.
She checked the time stamp. 7:49.
Alex’s text – and Peters’ murder – had been around 7:30. If Beckman had sold them out to Stevens, and if Stevens had dropped everything to come after them, the time fit.
A retro bowler hat covered his head, a goatee masked his mouth and jawline, and he kept his head angled down as if to avoid hotel security cameras. Too bad for him that their cameras had been placed much lower.
Even so, the shadows were enough to cloak his features.
Not to mention that the getup he wore was likely a disguise. Someone like Stevens didn’t escape detection for so long by not planning ahead. In fact, the more she looked at him, the more certain she became that he was in disguise. The suit had a boxy quality about it that camouflaged the man’s build.
The man approached 501 and set the briefcase down. He rapped on the door with his right hand while reaching around his back with the left.
Several seconds passed.
His left hand didn’t reappear, even as he knocked again.
After what felt like an eternity, he looked up and down the hallway again before kneeling next to his briefcase.
He edged it open. Not enough for her to see inside, but enough for him to withdraw a small device. He rose and used his body to shield his actions, but she knew what he was doing. Overriding the lock. A few seconds passed before he cracked open the door and slipped into the room.
Stevens had not only been here, he’d been inside.
If she and Chow hadn’t already searched the rooms, she’d be clearing out right now.
She tapped a few buttons and brought up the views from the internal cameras. The suited man appeared, a gun in his hand. The extraordinarily long barrel on the weapon drew her attention.
A suppressor. Naturally.
After setting the briefcase down, he moved stealthily through the room. Checking behind furniture, inside closets. It felt like an eternity of searching, although the time stamp revealed less than a minute had passed since he’d entered.
He grabbed his briefcase and headed for the balcony.
A few more key taps brought up the balcony cam. The man dissolved into the shadows in the far corner.
She glanced toward the still-closed balcony door. They’d checked out there. Turned on the light. The balcony had been empty.
While he remained fairly still, he moved enough that the camera continued to record.
She didn’t have time for this. She brought up the living room feed again.
The next recorded segment started over two hours after the previous one had ended. The sliding glass door opened and the man stepped inside.
He crept through the living room and let himself out into the hallway at 10:33 p.m.. Switching back to the hallway recording, she forwarded to the 10:33 time stamp, where she saw him step into the elevator and descend to the first floor.
Evidently he’d determined that they would’ve returned by ten-thirty if they were going to return at all.
She leaned back. 10:33. They’d missed him by about a half hour. She didn’t know whether she was frustrated or relieved.
The door to the suite beeped once and swung open.
She scooped up her gun and pushed off the sofa. Chow appeared, the cameras in his hands.
Just Chow. She let her gun arm drop.
“Did you see anything on the video?”
“He was here. In this room.”
“You are joking.”
“Wish I were.” What if Stevens had planted a tracking device in their luggage or on their clothes? When he’d checked the bedrooms, he’d been out of the camera’s view for several seconds. More than enough time to plant a tracker. “We need to sweep our luggage, our clothes, every
thing before taking it with us.”
Chow shook his head. “That will take a great deal of time.”
More time than they had tonight. “You’re right. We’ll grab a change of clothes for each of us, sweep that, and come back tomorrow to do the rest.”
₪ ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪
Chow parked the car at the far end of the privately owned motel’s parking lot, next to their team’s SUV.
This place was on the very outskirts of town. How had Alex stumbled across it?
Lana pushed the question aside. It didn’t matter. The only thing she cared about right now was ensuring Reilly was safe. And that he stayed that way.
In addition to the main building, which had two stories with exterior corridors, the motel also offered about a dozen individual cabins. From the brief look she’d gotten when their car’s headlights swept the buildings, the cabins appeared to be well-maintained, but weren’t anything special.
They did, however, offer a great deal of privacy. They were spaced out across the sandy, brush-covered dunes in front of her.
She and Chow stepped from the car. Cabin number eleven, Alex had said. According to her, it was about as far away from the parking lot and the motel’s main building as you could get.
Their shoes crunched on the gravel as they followed the winding path over a small rise, approaching the only cabin with lights on.
Two steps led up to a weathered wooden door. At the base of the steps, a rustic sign announced that they’d reached number eleven.
She texted Alex before knocking once.
The door opened and Alex let them in. Lana’s gaze immediately found Reilly, who sat on a brown and orange paisley couch that looked like something from the seventies. A small smile tightened his lips when he saw her, but he remained seated.
She turned to Alex. “Where’s Rodriguez?”
“Sleeping. I’m supposed to wake him up at six a.m. to take over.”
Hopefully Alex could last until six a.m.
“What happened?”
“Wish I knew.” Red tinged Alex’s eyes.
Man, she looked horrible. At least ten years older than she had that afternoon. Deep creases etched into her forehead, which had a stone-gray pallor. Puffiness gave her a squinty-eyed appearance.
At least Reilly seemed to be handling everything okay.
Her attention flicked to him. A little pale, but his breathing didn’t seem hindered.
“Peters told me earlier that he thought something was up with Beckman.” The softness of Alex’s tone made her voice difficult to hear. “I should’ve looked into it then, but we were getting ready to leave and I didn’t figure waiting a few hours would hurt.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“Tell that to Peters.” Alex massaged her temples. “I mean, I asked him if it could wait until after dinner. He hesitated. I should’ve known then, but he said it could wait.”
Obviously that had been the wrong answer. “So, at the restaurant…”
“Beckman kept looking at his watch. Then said he’d be right back. Really abrupt-like. I remember Peters looking at me, but he didn’t say anything. About a minute later, he said he was going to use the restroom. Next thing I know, he’s calling my cell, says he needs backup outside, in the alley, right now. I sent Chow and Rodriguez out, locked Reilly in the bathroom, and guarded the door.”
Chow offered a tight nod. “I heard the gunshot as I stepped outside. When I went to the alley, Peters was dead and Beckman’s gun was smoking. He tried to tell me that Peters was telling someone our location, but I did not believe him.”
Beckman must not have heard Peters call Alex or he would’ve known that excuse wouldn’t fly. Unless he thought they were all stupid.
“Chow and Rodriguez subdued Beckman, Chow called me, and I texted you.”
“Relocating was the right call. I checked the surveillance video. An armed man was in our room tonight. He waited about two hours before leaving.”
Alex straightened. “You mean we got video of Stevens?”
“Possibly, but it won’t do us any good. He’s pretty well disguised.”
“Of course he was.” A small snort accompanied Alex’s words. “Heaven forbid this be that easy.”
“You said Maxwell was coming?”
Good thing or cause for concern? Lana honestly wasn’t sure. Maxwell had been less than forthcoming about Stevens and while it appeared Beckman had been their leak, she had yet to hear a good reason for Maxwell’s secrecy.
“He called an hour ago. His flight lands around noon, so he should be here early afternoon. He told us to sit tight until he gets here.”
“Did he say why he never told us about Stevens?”
“He said he hadn’t wanted to mention it until he’d confirmed the story.”
Confirmed or not, he should’ve told them. They needed to know what they were up against.
Of course, it might just be a convenient cover story. Not a very good one, at that.
If Alex noticed her skepticism, she gave no indication. “Once Maxwell gets done with Beckman, he’s going to help us clear out. New city.”
A yawn popped Reilly’s jaw, the sound seeming loud in the silence.
Alex offered a smile that contained none of its usual warmth. “You guys should all go to bed. Got a long day ahead of us.”
“I think you are right. I will hit the straw.”
Hit the straw. Not quite how most people would say it, but exactly what she would expect from Chow.
“You and Rodriguez are in the bedroom on the right.” As he left the room, Alex turned to Lana. “I figure you guys can share the other room. There’s a king bed and a rollaway cot in there.”
“And a window, I presume.” Not really a question. And definitely a concern, especially since this cabin was ground level. Easy access should Stevens track them down.
“Already took care of that. Rodriguez and I moved the dresser in front of it and put a nightstand on top. If anyone tries to come through that window, they’ll have to push the furniture out of the way first.”
Good enough.
“You look like you need the sleep more than I do. You go. I’ll take over the rest of this shift.”
Alex hesitated. “You need to sleep, too. May not get much chance later on.”
“I had the overnight shift yesterday, remember? It’s been a lot longer since you slept than it has for me.” She watched the indecision play across Alex’s face. One more push ought to do it. “Go on. I’ll grab a few hours after Rodriguez takes over.”
Alex couldn’t smother the yawn that overtook her. “Okay. Even that cot sounds pretty comfortable right now.” She shifted her attention to Reilly. “The perk of being the witness. You get the bed.”
“You go on. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Once Alex disappeared down the hall, Reilly turned back to Lana. “How’d everything go?”
“Okay, I guess. It was weird.”
“What did you find out?”
“It’s them.” She didn’t know how else to say it. Calling those people, those strangers, family didn’t feel right. “It’s late and you’re exhausted. Go to bed. We can talk about this later.”
He nodded and trudged toward the bedroom, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
Good thing Alex had taken her up on the offer to cover her shift. Lana didn’t think she’d be able to sleep anyway. Not with the day cycling through her head.
She just hoped Alex would be able to sleep.
Losing someone she’d worked with so closely had to hurt. More so since she’d been the one in charge. And, knowing Alex, she no doubt blamed herself for what had happened.
Poor Peters.
Who would take care of his mother now?
Would she even understand that her son was dead? Depending on how advanced her dementia was, she may not. Which might – in some ways – be a blessing in disguise.
Confined tears blurred her vision, but did nothing to dim the image seared into her
memory.
Peters. Motionless in a growing pool of his own blood.
For the first time ever, she knew someone who had been murdered on the job. Not just knew him, had worked with him.
It could’ve been her. Thank God it wasn’t.
How could she even think like that? Peters was dead and all she could think about was herself? Especially since she knew her soul was prepared for what came next. She didn’t know if Peters had been.
And she’d certainly never taken the time to talk to him about it.
Not that he would’ve been likely to listen to her anyway.
She tried to stamp the thoughts down. Obsessing wouldn’t change the facts. It was too late to do anything about it now.
Learn from the past, focus on the present, and live for the future.
She turned her attention to the day ahead and all that had to be done before they left town.
Like sweeping their things for listening devices and trackers. Packing. Talking to Beckman and hopefully getting some answers. Making arrangements for Peters’ body.
On a personal level, she’d have to figure out something in regards to her… family.
And she hoped to see Nate again, to exchange contact information, although that seemed unlikely to happen. Which was really too bad; she would’ve enjoyed staying in touch.
Something of a mystery in and of itself. Even now, she could hardly believe he’d slid under her guard.
Well, it didn’t really matter.
She wouldn’t be jogging the beach, so she wouldn’t run into him. The friendship would fade into nothing more than a pleasant memory amidst the turmoil of this month.
And it was probably better that way.
Twenty
“Welcome back to the land of the living. If you hadn’t been snoring so loud, I would’ve checked for a pulse.”
Lana made a face at Reilly. “Ha, ha. Laugh it up.”
Besides, they both knew he was much more likely to snore.
It was amazing the difference a few hours of sleep and a shower could make. After Rodriguez had taken over for her, she’d dropped onto the unoccupied side of the king bed – which hadn’t seemed to disturb Reilly’s sleep one bit. Neither he nor Alex had stirred when she’d come in and she’d evidently followed suit when they both got up.
Deadly Alliances Page 23
