by Evans, Misty
He disconnected, stood, and dropped the phone back into its pocket. “It’s going down at eleven at that abandoned warehouse on Bayside.”
Cooper rose, kissing Celina goodbye and texting someone at the same time. “Don’t wait up.”
“Be careful,” she called as both men headed for the back door.
The same words were on Ronni’s lips. “Need backup?”
Thomas turned, shot her a grin. “You offering?”
“Damn straight.”
Cooper hustled Thomas forward. “Not this round, Punto. Your assignment starts tomorrow. Tonight, you stay here and keep my girlfriend happy.”
Ronni locked eyes with Thomas, who was looking at her over Cooper’s shoulder. “Stay safe, Mann.”
“You know I will, little mama.”
Little mama? “Mama, your ass,” she called to his back as the two disappeared. Celina chuckled.
Owen stood, snagged his guitar, and yawned. “Can I play Night of the Death Eaters?”
Celina checked the clock. “Half an hour. Then it’s a book and bedtime.”
The kid grumbled, but headed for his bedroom, Thunder following with one last look back at Ronni.
Once they were gone, Celina wandered into the kitchen. “Wine?”
“You know it,” Ronni answered.
Celina opened a bottle of red and poured two glasses. The patio doors were open and a nice breeze wafted in. She handed Ronni a glass and leaned against the kitchen counter. “So how are you, partner?”
Partner. Just like old times. But it wasn’t old times. Everything had changed.
The spot between Ronni’s shoulder blades itched. Nerves had been severed, but the doctors had repaired most of the damage. Every once in a while, it burned or itched. “Good. How about you? Looks like California living agrees with you.”
Celina eyed her over the rim of her glass, letting her know deflecting the conversation wasn’t going to work. “I love it here. I’m glad you finally paid us a visit. I just wish it wasn’t work-related.”
“This is good for me.” Ronni’s fingers shook ever so slightly as she ran them over the stem of her wine glass. The liquid inside quivered and she withdrew her hand, fisting it in her lap. “I was sick of being on light duty, pushing papers and making coffee. Time to get back in the field.”
“Cooper didn’t tell me anything about your case, but…” Celina hesitated, the unsaid words hovering like the false light coming from the pendant over the sink. Undercover work is always dangerous. “You nervous?”
The tight laugh left Ronni’s mouth before she could snuff it. “I haven’t been in the field since February. Yeah, you could say I’m nervous.”
Especially since I have to betray someone I once considered family.
“That’s why Dupé and Cooper wanted to pair you with Thomas. You couldn’t ask for better backup.”
“He’s on this other case right now.”
“Which appears to be wrapping up tonight.”
“And if it’s not, I can handle the assignment on my own.”
“I know you can, but I’d feel better if you had someone watching your back.” Celina held out her glass. “To partners, old and new.”
Her back. Oh, the irony. Reluctantly Ronni clinked glasses with her. They each sipped their wine, listening to the distant sounds of a computer game battle. “The kid is cool.”
Celina grinned. “I lucked out…got a ready-made family. Cooper and Owen had some issues in the beginning, but with my job change, I’m not working undercover and we can give him a more stable environment. He spends a couple weeks out of every month with us.”
A ready-made family. Ronni had had that once. It was one of the reasons cults appealed to the black sheep, the outcasts, the runaways. You can’t pick your family, the old adage went, but in some cases, you could. “Thanks for letting me stay here for a few nights. Do you have a computer I can use?”
“Bobby set up an office in the guest room for you.”
“Bobby?”
“Bobby Dyer, the taskforce’s computer guru. He was Cooper’s first partner before Valquis put him in a wheelchair.”
Now she remembered. Cooper hadn’t told Celina about Dyer’s unfortunate accident when he’d come to Des Moines back in the winter, and when Celina had found out, she’d gone ballistic. Celina and Dyer had been close once, probably were again.
“I need to do some research tonight.”
Celina pushed off the counter. “Let’s get you settled then.”
Ronni took her wine and followed her friend to the back of the house and a small bedroom, complete with a surfboard hanging on the wall. A single bed, a simple desk, and a laptop waited for her. Cooper or Thomas had already deposited Ronni’s suitcases inside the door.
“It’s not the Hilton,” Celina said, “but it’s comfortable and far enough away from Owen’s bedroom you won’t be bothered by noise.”
The single window above the desk was open, cool night air tickling the curtain. The tufted headboard and comfy pillows were inviting. Home. Family. Ronni suddenly wanted to crawl under the soft cotton comforter and sleep for days. A stack of paperback mysteries sat on the nightstand. Celina had remembered her favorite authors.
After a long day of travel and the god-awful revelation about her new assignment, the itch between her shoulders eased. The tightness in her chest lifted. For tonight, she was safe, protected. Part of a family.
“It’s perfect,” Ronni murmured, setting down her glass and running her fingers over the pillows. “Thank you.”
“Guest bath is across the hall. I laid out towels and bath salts for you. I thought a good, hot soak might help you relax.”
Ronni smiled. When was the last time someone had taken care of her? Not with physical therapy and endless psychological probing, but with simple kindness? A glass of wine, a paperback book, a comfortable bed?
It was more than that, of course. Her life in the past few months had been filled with doctor’s appointments, therapy, and tests, but it had lacked real human connection. While seeing Celina, Cooper, and Thomas again rubbed against her emotions like sandpaper, it also soothed something inside her. Something she couldn’t name, but felt all the same.
For the first time in a long time, she actually felt like her old self. Confident, take-no-prisoners, Special Agent Ronni Punto. “I could get used to this,” she said, giving her friend a well-deserved hug. “Keep this up, and you may never get rid of me.”
Celina gave her an extra squeeze. “That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.”
“Throw in your shoe collection and it’s a deal.”
“You can wear any of them except my Steve Madden Devil booties.”
Ronni eyed her suspiciously. “What’s so special about those?”
“Whenever I need Cooper’s cooperation, I wear them and nothing else. It’s like a lucky charm.”
“Four-inch heels?”
She nodded. “Does the trick every time.”
“I doubt it’s the shoes, but who am I to deny you your lucky charm?”
They laughed and Celina cleared out, leaving Ronni to unpack. Instead, she grabbed her wine glass and sat at the desk, staring out at the night sky. While she felt content for the first time in ages, the thought of Thomas miles away, trying to shut down the Sandoval Cartel, worried her. It was natural, she told herself, to be worried about her new partner, if indeed they ever ended up working together.
But no matter how smart, how clever, how tough an agent was, eventually they met their match in the field. That’s what bothered her. Thomas knew he was good, and that cockiness might be the thing that got him killed.
She changed into sweats and picked a mystery to look at. The words didn’t hold her attention, though, so she left the paperback open on the bed, booted up the laptop and went to work. She’d already dug up as much as she could on her brother over the years, but there was no such thing in her book as too much research.
Chapter Five
&nb
sp; Ronni woke with a start, heart pounding in her ears, and a sharp pain between her shoulder blades.
Pulse skipping, she sat up. Strange bed, strange room, a laptop open next to her with a familiar face on the screen. She blanched at the eyes staring back at her. Adam.
Her skin was covered with a cool sweat and she shivered. Surfboard on the wall, empty wine glass next to the bed, open window making the room chilly…
Oh, right. Celina’s place. California.
Safe.
But not for long. The bedside clock read four-oh-eight. A few more hours and it would be time to go to work.
She dropped back into the pillows, closing her eyes, and rubbing her forehead. She’d fallen asleep reading information about Adam and his iChurch. Their website and Facebook page seemed rather…tame…and the irony struck her all over again. The idea of a cult was to encapsulate the members from the evil outside world. Yet Adam was a prodigy of the modern age as much as he was his father’s son. He understood the power of social media and was using it.
A noise came from the front of the house. She held still and listened. A rustling and then voices speaking just above a whisper.
Shutting the laptop, Ronni sat up and eased out of the bed. Her Glock was on the nightstand along with her cell phone. She snagged both and crept to the door, opening it an inch and listening. The spot between her shoulder blades tingled.
A man spoke, his voice low and grumbly. Cooper.
The other, female, soothed and cajoled. Celina.
Ronni let out the breath she was holding.
The sting must have gone down and Cooper was home. From the sounds of his quiet cursing, things hadn’t gone smoothly.
Thomas.
Grabbing a sweatshirt, she pulled it on as she headed down the hallway. Cooper and Celina were in the kitchen, the coffee pot gurgling and the heavenly smell of fresh coffee filling the air. Cooper sat at the breakfast bar, making notes in a file. Celina leaned on her favorite spot on the counter, arms folded across her chest and yawning.
Both looked up when Ronni entered. “What happened?”
“The usual shit,” Cooper said. His face was shadowed and tired. “We reclaimed the cop killers and nailed Sandoval, but there was a shootout.” He slammed the pen he’d been using down on the counter. “Two men injured.”
The sting between her shoulders flared. “Who?”
Celina pulled out mugs. “SWAT team guys. They went in before Cooper gave the signal, almost blew the operation.”
Not Thomas. Her relief was so great, her knees wobbled. She grabbed the edge of the counter, cleared her throat. How sick was that? Of course, she didn’t want anyone to be hurt, but she’d already lost so many people she cared about.
I don’t care about him. I can’t afford to care…
Yeah, right. “How serious are the injuries?”
Cooper ran a hand over his face, accepted a cup of coffee from Celina. “Serious enough.”
“And Thomas? He’s okay, right?”
A sip of coffee, a shrug. “Probably. He’s in lockup.”
“Jail?”
Another shrug. “Didn’t want his UC identity blown, so he was arrested with the rest of Sandoval’s and Ortega’s crews.”
Celina handed her a cup of coffee and Ronni sat next to Cooper. “Aren’t you going to bail him out?”
“Not me,” he slid a business card at her. “You are.”
“Me?”
“If I go in and bail him out, his crew in jail will get suspicious. Could blow his cover. His girlfriend, on the other hand…that’s a different story.”
“But I’m not his girlfriend.”
“The criminals don’t know that.” He wrote something on the file. “Take that card with you and ask for Lieutenant Murphy. He’ll know you’re one of mine and he’ll help you with the paperwork.”
He glanced at her, gave her the once-over from head to toes. “And dress in character. Tristan Ludlow’s girlfriend would be…sluttier.”
Now she was really confused. “Tristan who?”
“Thomas’s cover identity. I told him Tristan was a stupid name. He said it was some character in a Brad Pitt movie.” Cooper snorted, shaking his head. “Kid thinks he’s Brad Pitt.”
“He’s got the cheekbones for it,” Celina said. “With that long hair and tan he’s got…” She stopped at the look Cooper shot her, then winked at Ronni. “I’ll help you get into character.”
Two hours later, Ronni was at the San Diego police station with her hair frizzed and her makeup too heavy. She wore a short skirt and three-inch heeled Chinese Laundry shoes that hurt her toes. For effect, she smacked her gum and stuck her hip out while she waited for the desk sergeant to find Lieutenant Mumford.
Mumford, a short, greying, older man who could have passed for an Irish priest, didn’t even raise an eyebrow when he saw her, and within ten minutes, she had the forms filled out and the phony bail money deposited. Processing Thomas’s release took another thirty minutes, so she sat outside and watched the fog from the Pacific creep away, inch by inch, as the sun rose.
Even at that time of the morning, there was a constant flow of criminals and cops in and out of the station. Few paid attention to her, but when Thomas finally emerged, he saw her and froze in his tracks. She sat on a low concrete divider, legs crossed in her too-short skirt, swinging one seductively back and forth.
“That’s quite a look,” Thomas said. “Susannah.”
She’d never seen Legends of the Fall, but IMDb had provided the cast of characters. “This old thing? Thought you loved this look, Tristan.”
His clothes were wrinkled, his face drawn. The stubble hugging his jawline had grown overnight, and shadows hung under his eyes. He came forward, pulled her off the concrete barrier, and swept her into a hug. It was all for show, she knew, but his strong arms and warm male scent triggered something female inside her. “About time you got here.”
She patted his shoulder awkwardly, trying to draw back from his embrace. He held tight, nuzzled her ear. “Thank you.”
Goosebumps ran down her arms. She needed to disengage from his touch—like, yesterday—yet a small part of her didn’t want to. “I didn’t have much choice.”
A muffled rumble of laughter shook his chest, vibrating into hers. He ran a hand up and down her spine, stopping to finger each vertebra. Unbidden heat shot between her legs. “I sort of figured Coop sent you.” He nuzzled her neck and ear again, murmuring low. “At least act like you’re glad to see me.”
“Why? Is someone watching?” she whispered back.
She could have sworn he groaned ever so slightly at her breath on his ear. A little thrill ran through her at the sound. “Someone’s always watching, Susannah. You know that.”
He kissed her then, his lips working over hers with a startling boldness. It felt good, but Ronni cut it short and drew back, ready to fillet him, when she saw they did indeed have an audience.
A lawyer was cutting across the parking lot, briefcase in hand, watching the show. From the layers of gold chains around his neck and the high shine on his expensive loafers, Ronni pegged him for one of Sandoval’s.
At the same time, Thomas’s hands were being much too familiar with her backside, turning her stomach to mush. Her pulse skipped in a wild rhythm. “Stop it.”
“Come on. Is that any way to treat your recently jailed boyfriend?”
Grabbing some skin on his side through his shirt, she pinched him.
Which was quite a feat since there wasn’t an ounce of flab anywhere on his body.
“Ouch!” He stepped back and rubbed the spot. “What are you doing?”
“Pretending I’m your girlfriend,” she said under her breath, then raised her voice. “You lousy SOB. If you think I’m bailing your ass out of jail again, you can go blow yourself.”
She stomped off toward the car, struggling to not totter too much in the ridiculous heels. The feeling reminded her of her childhood when she’d played dress up with
her mother’s clothes and shoes, pretending to be rich and famous. Those were the days before her mother had fallen in love with Daniel Karsni. The days when her father came around once in a while and there was laughter in their house.
Glancing over her shoulder, she stopped on the driver’s side of the car and caught Thomas staring at her butt. Pig. “You coming or not?”
The lawyer had moved on, but others were still watching. One side of Thomas’s mouth lifted, his blue eyes snapping with the love of the game. “Oh, I’m coming, my gooey buttercup.”
He hurdled over the passenger side door like he’d done the day before, and Ronni rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses.
A mile down the road, she turned left and headed north into the hills. “Was that act good enough for you?”
“Perfect.” He rubbed his side as if it still stung and watched the passing scenery. “Where are you headed?”
A check of the rearview reassured her they weren’t being followed. If someone was keeping tabs on Thomas, it wasn’t obvious. She took a bogus turn, just in case. “Your place.”
“You know where I live?”
She hadn’t just researched Legends of the Fall. “If you’re going to be my partner on this new assignment, you’ll need a makeover. Head to toe.” Another turn, another check of the rearview. A blue import followed, but passed them a moment later. “And I need breakfast. You owe me that, so I hope you’ve got eggs in your fridge.”
“Really?” He had a weird look on his face. Reminded her of a puppy. “You’re taking me into the cult with you?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“You’ll see.”
“Um…” He glanced right and left. “This isn’t the way to my apartment.”
“Heat run. I memorized the main thoroughfares around here while I was waiting for you this morning. Just making sure we’re not being followed.”
“Paranoid much?”
“You’re the one who said someone’s always watching.”
He laughed. “Mostly, I said that to see what you’d do—how far you’d carry the op.”
