Expired Game (Last Chance County Book 5)

by Lisa Phillips

Until then, he had bigger problems than his life being in danger. In order to adequately protect the department from the mess that was his past, there was something he needed to do.

  Ted had to scrub evidence.

  Seven

  “We know you’re part of this.”

  Jess watched through the glass as Basuto leaned against the wall of the interrogation room. Mia sat at the table with him, the sergeant and the lieutenant interviewing Sally Peters about everything that’d happened at the bank.

  Jess had told them as much as she’d remembered about Sally and what Ted had told her about the database he’d found on the computer. A link between this woman and West’s operation at the warehouse.

  Jess wanted to get in there and ask a few questions herself.

  “Hey.”

  She spun to find Conroy shutting the door behind him.

  “Should you be up?”

  He shot her a look. “Get me a stool if you’re concerned about me or if you’re questioning the level of care and instruction I receive from my doctor.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. You haven’t been pushing it.” The chief had been shot by a sniper just a few weeks ago. “It surprised me to see you standing.”

  Seemed like that was happening a lot lately. She was being thrown—first by him, then by Ted. Different situations for sure, but it spoke to the fact she’d been oblivious of things in front of her. Not paying enough attention to people who were close to her. People she cared about.

  Jess sighed.

  “Okay?”

  She touched her forehead. The lump was still pretty big. “I’m guessing when the painkillers wear off, I’ll have a great headache. I think Ted hurt his wrist, but I’m okay.”

  “Maybe I should get you a stool.” Before she could chuckle at his words, Conroy motioned to the window. “Are they getting anywhere?”

  Jess didn’t want to sigh again. “I doubt she’ll talk about West. There’s nothing we can give her that will void what he’ll do to her if she talks.”

  So many people with ties to West had been killed. She wondered about the spider tattoo guy she’d met on Friday night. If he wasn’t a bad guy—which he hadn’t seemed to be—he should watch his back.

  She was used to picking up on small nuances and details others missed. He dressed the part, sure. Maybe it was her undercover work that made her think twice about their interaction. He hadn’t been violent. He’d wanted her to let him go. If she’d been in the same situation as an undercover officer, she would have done the same thing.

  Who was he?

  “So we book her for the bank robbery,” Conroy said. “And we get nothing else?”

  “Until we find some evidence from the men.” Forensics could tell them who those gunmen were, and then they’d start to dig into their lives. Their phones. Once they ID’d them, it wouldn’t be long before they would have plenty of places to ask around. “Then we’ll be turning over every rock we get, hoping for a hit on West.”

  Conroy nodded. “Did we run her prints?”

  “Donaldson is going to come tell me when he gets a hit.” They’d taken her fingerprints when they booked her for being an accomplice to the attempted armed robbery of the bank. Until they knew her real name, any attempts to get more out of her would be stymied.

  Conroy wandered over to lean against the wall. “Doesn’t seem like she wants to say much.”

  “They even switched off asking questions. She has said nothing.”

  “But she hasn’t asked for a lawyer.”

  Jess answered Conroy, knowing it was something between a question and a statement. “Maybe she doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here. Until it hits our system and word gets out that way.”

  Conroy nodded, a slow and measured movement.

  Jess turned her attention back to what was happening in the interrogation room. At least watching them meant she wasn’t thinking about Ted. Which meant, she would only end up sighing again. Quite frankly, she couldn’t handle the unresolved feelings. Open case. Relationship in limbo. Her sister wasn’t quite settled. The chief wasn’t quite healed. And for whatever reason, Basuto’s recent behavior made her wonder if he didn’t approve of her as an officer.

  Jess focused on the woman again. Sally Peters. “I just…”

  When she said nothing else, Conroy said, “What?”

  “She isn’t beaten down. She’s not one of West’s victims.”

  “Maybe she recruits girls. Trains them.”

  “I know things like that exist in the world. And I see plenty in this job. You know, there’s a reason I left New York and came here.”

  “Because your grandfather was sick.”

  “That was a real good excuse. And timely.” Jess folded her arms even though her whole body was stiff. “Truth was, I couldn’t hack it.”

  “I know that’s not true.”

  She shrugged one shoulder, not willing to face her boss. “Maybe it is.”

  “I know you lost an innocent.”

  “None of us are innocent. The bad guys are right about that, at least.” Jess shook her head. “People are just people. We make the choices we want to make, and some are born or forced into a life as a victim. But none of us are innocent.”

  Some people didn’t want to be innocent. That was the truth she’d learned. Whether they fought back or, through choices, sabotaged their own life and the lives of others, didn’t matter to so many. Bad guys just did whatever they were going to do and everyone else had to simply deal with the fallout. Jess didn’t even know what to think anymore. Life wasn’t close to black and white. There was evil, and there was good, but she could barely tell the difference anymore.

  Especially when she was playing a part.

  “Put together a proposal for an undercover operation. I’ll take a look, but I’m gonna tell you now, Jess, I don’t want you anywhere near what happened in that warehouse.”

  She glanced at him and saw some of the things he’d seen as a cop in his steady gaze. Surely he didn’t know he was letting that shine through, but sometimes it was better to let some out than hold it all back and suffer for it.

  Before she could tell him she didn’t want to go undercover like that, any more than he did, he said, “We’re going to find West the old-fashioned way. Investigating. Following leads.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think undercover is a good idea for this one.”

  Had she said that? He was the one who brought it up, not her. The last thing she wanted was to have to face that. Again. Did he think she would jump at the chance to be dragged into prostitution and sex trafficking? Jess’s stomach flipped over, and she realized she hadn’t eaten all day.

  No. And not just because she wouldn’t eat for days being back in that world. Yes, she was good at undercover work. Her grandfather had let everyone know that part of her skillset. But it had pigeonholed her since then.

  She’d been assigned to several cases that required undercover work. Now? Jess wanted to make detective. She wanted to investigate cases from start to finish; not just spend all shift responding to calls.

  She wanted out of being the go-to for every clandestine operation the chief could come up with that required a female in her mid-twenties.

  Jess opened her mouth to say just that, so Conroy would be clear on what she wanted, when the door opened.

  Kaylee stuck her head in. “Hey, guys. Have either of you seen Ted?”

  Jess shook her head. “Not since the bank.”

  “Me either.” Conroy looked at his watch. “He should be back here by now.” The chief followed Kaylee out.

  Jess slid her phone from her pocket. No new notifications—texts or calls—from Ted, or anyone.

  The door shut.

  Jess went out, drawn more by worry over Ted than the nil contribution she’d made to the interrogation. They hadn’t even entertained the idea of letting her in there. But how could she learn if they didn’t let her try? She wanted to believ
e this was only about it being such an important case for them. She would continue to tell herself that. Spare herself the hurt.

  Conroy had Mia’s desk phone to his ear. “Sure?”

  When she neared, he looked at her. Shook his head. Then into the phone, he said, “Thanks, Dean. Let me know if you find him.”

  He replaced the handset on the base.

  “What’s going on?”

  He frowned. “Ted was headed back here. Dean says he left, but that was forty-five minutes ago. Even if he stopped somewhere, which—”

  “Ted doesn’t do. Ever.” As much as it infuriated her, he didn’t stop for coffee. He packed his own lunch. He ate at home. Stopping somewhere on the way here, especially without telling anyone, didn’t seem like him at all.

  And not just because she’d offered lunch and he’d turned her down.

  Conroy nodded. “He should’ve been here by now.”

  Jess turned away. She strode to the back hall and the ten-by-fifteen closet he’d converted into an office. Supposedly it was so he’d be closer to the “network closet,” whatever that meant. She figured it was because he didn’t want to be around people to distract him all day. Same reason she preferred being out in her patrol car.

  She checked that no one was in the hall and grabbed the key from the top of the door frame. It wouldn’t be a secret forever, but it had worked so far. Jess let herself in. Ted wasn’t inside with the door locked.

  She glanced around. Every surface was covered with circuit boards. Keyboard. Mouse. Multiple monitors. More than one iPhone. There were even the guts of something that looked like it might’ve once been an Xbox. The whole place was an electronics graveyard.

  Where are you?

  She sent another text, asking him to check in, and wondered if Dean had that app set up where he could find Ted’s GPS signal. Did they do that? Surely Ted would know if Dean had done it—no way could he keep that from a tech genius. And his older brother was the kind of guy who’d keep tabs on the younger brother he thought was helpless. That alone made her doubtful.

  Admittedly, Jess had also thought of him like that…before today. Maybe not that he was helpless, exactly. No one with the skills Ted had to infiltrate computer systems was without defenses.

  But seeing that he’d taken down a gunman? She’d practically swooned. All the way to pressing her lips to his and pretty much embarrassing herself when Basuto had caught them nearly kissing.

  The whole thing was a disaster, and not just because it was obvious she’d underestimated him.

  Maybe, right now, he was totally fine. Could be he was just doing his thing, and here she was underestimating him all over again. Jess probably didn’t need to worry about him. He’d stroll in just fine. Or call and say he’d blown a tire on a back road and had to change it.

  “Jess!”

  She sprinted back to the main office. Dean was there now, as was Stuart who looked seriously pale. Both men lived with Ted. And she got the feeling Stuart considered him a younger brother nearly as much as Dean did.

  “What is it?” She glanced between them, but no one said anything. “What?”

  Kaylee walked over and set a hand on Jess’s arm. Kaylee’s hand shook.

  Jess said, “Someone talk.”

  Dean started to, but Conroy interjected, “We need to find Ted as soon as possible. His life could be in danger.”

  “Someone already tried to kill us earlier. What else is new?” To her consternation, Jess’s eyes filled with tears.

  “The FBI is on their way. Pierce Cartwright escaped federal custody. They think he might be on his way here.”

  Ted’s father was free?

  “What?” She glanced around. “No.”

  Could he really have escaped the feds and made it to Last Chance this soon? How was it even possible he’d gotten to Ted so fast?

  She saw the color bleed from Dean’s face and knew Ted’s experience to be far more visceral than even that. He refused to say much of anything about his father. All she knew from what Kaylee told her was that, most recently, he’d been appointed to the position of CIA director. Before he was arrested.

  She blinked. “How could this have happened?”

  Kaylee had been targeted by Pierce Cartwright. Jess spun to her, and the other woman nodded. Fear in her eyes. “I know.”

  Stuart came over to Kaylee.

  “He’s loose,” Kaylee whispered to her husband.

  Stuart took her hand and turned to the room. “We’re going off the grid until Pierce Cartwright is back in FBI custody.” To Dean, he said, “Find Ted.”

  Eight

  A light shone above him. Ted blinked and saw the inside lid of a car trunk. A man stood in the opening—one of the gunmen. He wore a ski mask.

  Ted gasped.

  The man stared down at him.

  Ted managed to groan out a couple of words. “What…” He didn’t know what he was saying. Or if he’d even said anything.

  He couldn’t even remember the last thing he’d been doing.

  Not to mention how he got here.

  The masked man reached in and hauled him out of the trunk. Cool air brushed at his face, then he was inverted over the man’s shoulder. Air pushed out of his lungs, and he groaned at the pressure against his abdomen. His arms swung free. He realized the smartwatch he always wore on his right wrist was gone.

  The left one slammed against the back of the man’s leg and pain erupted in his wrist like fire. With nothing in his stomach, he just dry heaved.

  The man started to walk, jostling Ted with every step. He tried to think about what had happened. How he wound up here.

  All he remembered was Jess. A moan escaped his lips. They’d nearly kissed again, and he’d wanted it. Only Basuto had interrupted, snapping them out of the dream where their lives were free of problems, and all they had was a serious case of infatuation. Back in the real world, where she was determined to find West, and Ted’s job was to make sure that when the case was completed, the evidence was solid.

  They couldn’t afford for the founders to continue getting away with whatever they wanted. He was as just as driven as Jess to bring them down, but they had to do it right. If all they had was tainted evidence or electronic data that clouded the facts, what good would that do?

  It had to be airtight.

  The man carrying him stepped inside. A few paces later, Ted was tossed on a couch. He bounced, and his head hit a solid wood arm. He rolled over and dry heaved in the direction of old, stained, threadbare carpet.

  “Pull it together.”

  The man opened a laptop on the coffee table while Ted leaned back and tried to settle his equilibrium. Did he recognize the voice? Ted would have to hear more to know for sure. Instead, the room spun around him. He made a circle with his lips and sucked in a long breath before pushing it back out.

  He needed water, but this guy looked like he’d murder Ted just for asking for a concession.

  The laptop screen illuminated. The man tapped the bottom of it, clicking on the touch screen. A video call rang. Seconds later, someone answered. The screen changed, but it was too dark to see the person who sat there.

  “Ted Cartwright.” The voice was distorted. He couldn’t even tell if it was male or female.

  He said nothing, just leaned his head back against the couch as it dawned on him this wasn’t an unfamiliar experience. How many times had he been dragged into a clandestine conversation with his father? Too many, given the answer was more than one.

  The distorted voice said, “You’ve seen my database. You wrote the program, so I’m sure you built in a back door for yourself.”

  He stared hard enough his eyes burned trying to make out the features of this person, but it was next to impossible.

  “You will get me into my database and lock out Sally Peters.”

  Text scrolled across the bottom of the laptop screen. Admin credentials that belonged to Sally? He’d found her access to that database on the bank network
.

  The police had her in custody. He remembered that from when he’d followed Jess and Basuto back into the offices. Right before he’d sat down to remove the entire database from their system. He had it on the flash drive.

  The drive had been in an evidence bag. He’d taken it with him. Walked to his car.

  He remembered dropping it, and he remembered pain.

  Play along. That’s what will keep you alive while you figure out a way to talk yourself out of this.

  Instead of it being his thought, it was his father’s voice that rolled through his head. Along with the sludge feeling that always came with it. The slow-moving stain of guilt and shame over everything he’d done. The people he’d seen hurt. The things his father had forced him to do.

  Ted remembered collapsing onto the asphalt of the parking lot right before he lost consciousness.

  He’d been hit on the head. Which made sense, considering the awful headache he had right now. He shifted and held his wrist against his front, moving to the edge of the couch seat. “One-handed is going to take me a while.”

  The screen changed. “I’ve got as long as you need.”

  Given the distorted voice, he’d have guessed this was his father. Except his dad was in federal custody. His father wouldn’t be mixed up in Last Chance business anyway. Although as a founder residing in his home base, his dad had quickly moved on to bigger and better things. And he’d grifted his way into the top spot at the CIA. Nothing but a con man, he’d fooled so many people.

  The same way Ted had fooled Chief Ridgeman. At least, that was how it felt sometimes. Like right now, when he didn’t feel so much like a kidnap victim. No, this had a familiar feeling to it—like so many situations he’d been in as a teen. Dragged by his dad into penetrating some computer system or other, taking the data or transferring all the money out.

  How was this any different?

  Besides, he could send out a GPS signal from the computer. He could add a line of code that would collapse the whole database, preventing others from using it. Or find a way to track everyone who logged on and send that information to the police department. Or he could even gather every piece of information stored in the database and dump it onto a newsgroup website. Be done with it. Expose the whole thing.