by G. K. Parks
“Hey,” Heathcliff came up from behind, “I heard about Friday night. Is everything okay? I wanted to check on you, but things have been hectic.”
“I’m okay.” My eyes darted around the room as I tried to come up with something relevant to say. “This was supposed to be a private sector job for a car security company.”
“Yes, I know.” He sunk into O’Connell’s empty chair. “Can I ask why you aren’t getting temporarily reinstated at the OIO for this?” I gave him a look. “Does it have anything to do with the mob boss you pissed off the last time you held federal agent credentials?”
“Maybe that’s partially why Mark’s been so adamant that I stay away.” I blew out a breath and made sure we were alone. “Honestly, Derek, it’s because Ryan’s partner broke cover and got killed a couple months back while on assignment. Ryan feels somehow guilty or responsible, and I can relate.” He narrowed his eyes, sensing there was more to the story. I guarded my past for a reason. “When I was still on the job, I gave the order that killed my partner and another agent.” I pressed my lips together and felt my jaw clench. Since Heathcliff lost his partner to suicide, he could also relate. Frankly, it was scary how similar we all were. “Jablonsky was my supervisor at the time, and he’s afraid, given my questionable past with Donough and my ability to sympathize, that I’m too emotionally compromised. Just don’t spread it around.”
“I’ve seen you emotionally compromised.” He stood, rubbing my shoulders. “You’re not. Now get the hell out of here and do what it is that you do. You have my number, and Moretti’s keeping a rapid response team on standby. Just make sure I don’t have any other funerals to attend.”
Nodding, I collected my belongings and asked for a ride to my apartment. My car was still at my place, and I needed transportation. On the way, I ran through every tidbit of Alexandra Riley’s cover that she fed to Claxton and Gregson, and then I made sure it all coincided perfectly with what Barlow knew and what Ryan and I told Chase and Virgil. Sometimes, it was difficult to keep the facts straight, but this wasn’t. Maybe it was because of the importance it held or the number of times I ran through it by myself and then again with Ryan and Interpol. Regardless, by the time I stepped out of the cruiser, I was Alexandra Riley.
I went into my apartment and swept the area for anything amiss. Everything was torn apart by an investigative team comprised of the few people I trusted, but nothing else was off. Donough’s abduction was a snatch and grab, and here I thought kidnappings were meant to be more difficult. Refusing to eat or drink anything in my fridge or pantry, even though almost everything had been confiscated and tested, I went to my closet, donned some leather, put on heavy eye makeup, and found an arsenal of weapons to conceal on my person.
My nine millimeter was in my shoulder holster, a blade at my ankle, and pepper spray in my purse. I stared at the taser, wondering if shoving it into my jacket pocket would be overkill. Instead, I stowed my lock picks in my purse, along with a few more tricks of the car thievery trade to help sell my cover when I was searched, and studied my reflection in the mirror. Maybe the butterfly bandages at my temple could help sell some kind of bar fight or brawl, even though it was only a small scrape.
After giving my place a final once over and making sure I had all the essentials, I went to the hotel where Ryan and I spoke to Devereaux and Mallick. The elevator ride to their floor lasted an eternity, and my thoughts wandered to Ryan doing all he could to sell himself as Hoyt. What was said in the hotel room after I was dismissed? Did Chase threaten him then, or did Ryan throw down the gauntlet?
I rapped against the door. “Chase, open up. It’s Riley.” I stared at the floor, watching for the light patterns to change, but nothing happened. “Goddammit, open the fucking door. Hoyt’s avoiding me like the plague, and we have business matters to discuss. I don’t have all freaking day.” I heard movement inside, and I did my best to look annoyed in case they checked the peephole.
“Alexandra Riley,” Virgil Mallick answered, looking like a snake, “why don’t you come in before you tip off the entire hotel of your presence?”
“Whatever.” I sauntered past and went to stare out the large windows. “Where’s Hoyt? That piece of shit had the audacity to call this morning to tell me he was busy after he stepped out Friday night. The goddamn coward.” I spun on my heel and glared at Virgil. “Let me guess, he asked you to cover for him.”
“Hoyt’s not here. Neither is Devereaux.” His smile was slow and wicked. “And I don’t cover for anyone.”
“No, you’re just the son of a bitch who bought him god knows what from some skank stripper the other night.” I let out an exasperated growl. “For three hundred dollars, I hope it was a good lay.” My maliciousness was concealed in my faked jealousy. “But it doesn’t matter. This is about business. I’d like to renegotiate the price. Ryan promised another three percent.” Still, the three percent irked me.
“We settled on twenty-five.” He sat on the couch, enjoying studying me. There was something cruel in his eyes, and I could imagine what he was thinking.
“Can I ask you a question?” He nodded, cocking his head to the side like a cobra preparing to strike. “Reggie was running the show, but he got pinched. It seemed like Hoyt was his right-hand man, but Devereaux’s pretty sure of himself. Hell, I’d go so far as to call it cocky. Shit, he offered five percent more if I blew him. So who’s in charge?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Make it that simple.” I took a seat on the other end of the couch. “Hoyt or Devereaux?” I returned the vicious smile. “Or maybe I should ask if you’re calling the shots now, Virgil.”
Something sparked in his eyes, and in one swift move, he leapt the distance between us and bent me backward over the arm of the couch, opening my jacket and removing my nine millimeter. I didn’t flinch, waiting to see what he would do. “Why the heavy artillery?” he asked, his arm pressed along my clavicle to hold me in place.
“Girl in my line of work needs some protection. Why?” I crinkled my nose playfully. “Were you afraid I was going to shoot you?” I laughed. “If I planned to shoot anyone, it’d be the asshole who screwed me over on Friday.”
“In that case,” he released his grip, “you’ll be happy to know Hoyt is no longer in a position to make any decisions.”
“Great.” I watched as Virgil manipulated my gun in his hands. The way he stared was as if the metal were something tantalizing and sexual. There was no doubt in my mind he liked power, and he probably liked to kill. “So who do I have to sleep with to get a better deal? You or Chase?” My words caught him off guard, and his eyes shot up. “Glad I got your attention.” I stood and held out my hand. “Tell your boss I’d like another meeting. How about tonight at the same strip club? Maybe he’ll get what he wants after all.”
He gripped the barrel and reluctantly handed back my gun. “Expect a call in a few hours but don’t expect to get a better deal.”
“We’ll see. Maybe I’ve found something else to offer.” His eyes lit up, and I wondered what he was expecting, more cars, sexual favors, or perhaps a trunk full of artillery. “I’d suggest the two of you figure out who’s in charge between now and then. I don’t like renegotiating.” I went to the door. “When should I expect to see Ryan again?” My stomach clenched tightly, but I kept the cool façade in place. “There’s something I still owe him.”
“He’s busy, but since he’s not calling the shots anymore, I’d say you don’t owe him anything.”
“Oh, I owe him something all right.” I let my hatred drip from every word.
The best conmen and grifters always said you couldn’t hide raw emotion, so use it. And that was precisely what I was doing. It was a misdirect, but it came across clearly. And the venomous monster inside of Virgil brightened.
Twenty-two
I didn’t know where to go or what to do. There was a good chance Virgil was monitoring my movements as I left the hotel, so I couldn’t risk letting him track me to the polic
e department. Plus, I wanted to keep a lookout for Devereaux. The greatest chance of locating Ryan would be to follow Barlow’s minions back to him, but if I was being watched, that would be even more difficult. As it was, I was sure Farrell’s team was already keeping tabs on the hotel suite, so they knew I stopped by. Thankfully, no one called to bitch me out.
Every muscle in my body was tensed, ready for a fight. That look of absolute bliss on Virgil’s face when he caught sight of my rage scared the shit out of me. I doubted there was anything he wouldn’t take pleasure in doing. He was a cold-blooded killer. As if we didn’t have enough of those on the loose.
I got in my car and drove to the nearest diner. There was zero chance I would be able to stomach anything at this point, but I needed a reason to stay in the vicinity. Getting out, I zipped my jacket to conceal my holstered gun and went inside. After finding an empty table near the window, I phoned Heathcliff.
“Hey, I need you to meet me. Can you bring my back-up handgun that I locked in O’Connell’s bottom drawer? Also, bring an evidence bag and gloves, and whatever you do, make sure you don’t look like a cop when you get here.”
“Okay.” He hesitated before asking, “Did you shoot someone?”
“No, but he put his fingerprints all over my weapon. Maybe something will ping in IAFIS. There could be other crimes or aliases we don’t know about.” I tried to recall if Mallick had an alibi for the time of Grenauldo’s murder. More than likely, no one bothered to consider him since they were so focused on the Camel. “My guess is Barlow has his own protection plan. Hell, maybe he’s afraid of some of the people he does business with.”
“I’ll be there soon. I have to change first.”
“I’m wearing leather and chains. Try to coordinate appropriately.” We disconnected, and I exhaled the breath I’d been holding since the elevator.
Ordering a soda, I took a few tentative sips while I wrapped my mind around everything. The phone call this morning changed everything. Ryan Donough was still alive, or at least he was at eight a.m. From what we gathered, the Camel wasn’t one of Barlow’s teammates, but he was one of his buyers or clients. Who the hell knew what term Reginald Barlow used. If we could get our hands on his list, we’d be able to identify the contract killer and maybe even a few of his targets.
Tommy Claxton didn’t know much. He was an idiot lackey who stole cars and pointed guns at people. If I had been smart, I would have made Robert Gregson my mark, but I didn’t realize what I was getting myself into at the time. Frankly, I still didn’t know what I was involved in. Focus, Parker.
My only objective was to retrieve Donough by any means necessary. The PD could track the targets, find wonderful excuses to arrest Devereaux and Mallick, and otherwise assist Interpol while Mark and all the federal agencies identified and apprehended the Camel. The only downfall was too many cooks in the kitchen. Any interference on any of these fronts could sabotage the other operations still in play.
“Hey,” Heathcliff slid into the booth across from me, “I changed, but unfortunately, I couldn’t grow a five o’clock shadow between the precinct and here.”
“It’s okay.” I smirked. “At least you tried.” I laughed because if I didn’t, I might cry. “We’ll make the trade in the car.”
“How’d it go?”
“It was fine. I’m hoping to arrange a meet this evening.” I put a few dollars on the table and stood. “Let’s go someplace quieter.”
We sat in Heathcliff’s car, and I exchanged my nine millimeter for the back-up and explained what happened with Mallick. Unlike the others, he respected my abilities and didn’t argue that I shouldn’t go alone to meet Devereaux. More important things were at stake, and my safety wasn’t a concern as long as my cover remained intact. However, he started the engine and parked across from the hotel, so we’d have a better view in case Devereaux reappeared.
“We’re running through all the stolen vehicles and matching the more unique cars to other owners. Then we’re checking the databases for anyone reported missing. It’s a long shot, but even if we find just one, it’ll make a ton of difference.”
“Maybe you should have another go at Gregson. Claxton’s useless.” I snorted. “But Robert knows more than he’s letting on. He has a relationship with Barlow, even though the logistics are still cloudy.” I turned around in the seat and watched a dark colored sedan pull up, but an elderly couple exited. “Any word if you’ll get another shot at Barlow?”
“Jablonsky’s all over his ass. He’s promised to send transcripts over ASAP.”
“Good.” I shut my eyes tight and tried to come up with some reason to keep Heathcliff close by. It was stupid, but I didn’t want to face off against Mallick alone. He was physically intimidating, well over six feet and a good hundred pounds more than me.
“Hey, do you need your entourage to go kick someone’s ass?” he teased.
“No. I’d like to do the ass-kicking myself, but someone should be there to hold my purse while I do it.” He cocked his head to the side. “Never mind. I’d feel better if I had some idea where Ryan is and how he is. Goddammit, for all I know, they could have killed him right after the phone call. Mallick said,” I swallowed, “that Hoyt wasn’t in any position to call the shots.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Look, if his cover’s blown, they’ll want answers.” I flashed back to Paris when my position and Ryan’s were reversed. “We have some time. We’ll get to him.”
“Do you have any idea,” I shook my head, “no. I’m not going there. This isn’t Paris. Ryan isn’t me. This is completely different.” Even though it didn’t feel completely different. “If I get Devereaux’s number, can you put a trace on it and get a location?”
“Yeah. We should have enough, given this entire shit storm.”
“All right. Get back to work. I will call you as soon as I have something concrete and don’t forget to run those prints. If you can bring that rat bastard, Mallick, in, it’ll be one less to deal with.”
“Sure,” he drove back to my car and double-parked, “and do me a favor and check in every two hours so I know you’re okay.”
“Okay.” I appreciated the worry. “But never tell Martin I agreed to those terms.” I winked and got into my car before he drove away.
* * *
A few hours later, Devereaux appeared in a dark colored Jeep. He tossed the keys to the valet and continued inside. As the valet pulled the car into the hotel’s garage, I spotted the plates and scribbled them down. Maybe it was the same Jeep that was spotted outside my apartment around the time Ryan was abducted. After a few minutes and no sign of movement from either Mallick or Devereaux, I phoned Heathcliff with the updated information. Mallick’s prints were being run through all the databases. So far, we’d gotten basic information on him. The same information Interpol already compiled, but it never hurt to double-check.
“Okay, so the Jeep is a rental.” He gave me the rental agency’s information. “The plates aren’t a match to the Jeep from outside your apartment at the time of Donough’s abduction, but it doesn’t mean Devereaux or Mallick didn’t switch the plates back again. I’ll call for the paperwork to get their records. Maybe it’ll lead somewhere.”
“Thanks, let me know what you find.” After we disconnected, I debated whether I should call the rental company directly or if I should call APS and see if they could pull some strings. “What the hell.” I dialed information, got the phone number, and called the car rental agency.
“How may I help you?” a man asked.
I turned on the charm, the flirtation, and lied through my teeth, claiming to be an airheaded bimbo who locked her boyfriend’s keys in the car. While I continued running through my spiel, I drove into the parking garage and found the Jeep. Parking beside it, I waited for the man to come back on the line.
“You’re in luck, Miss, it’s equipped with an onboard computer. I can unlock the door remotely from here. Can you provide the name on the account?”
“That’s okay. We’ll just keep this our little secret.”
“Aww, thank you so much. You’re a total doll,” I cooed. The doors unlocked, and I put on my gloves and climbed into the passenger’s side. “I’ll make sure I come to you the next time I need a rental.”
I hung up and accessed the built-in GPS, but Devereaux was smart enough to disengage it. However, he wasn’t smart enough to disable the vehicle anti-theft tracking system. Finding the hood release and locating the device, I recorded the serial number and other relevant information before getting back inside my car and phoning Islind at APS.
“This is Alexis Parker. The police department greatly appreciates all the assistance you’ve provided in apprehending the car thieves, but I have a small favor to ask.” I gave him the relevant information and asked if they could pull up the tracking information on the current vehicle. Who would have thought my consulting gig would be beneficial?
“Do you have a pen?” Islind asked.
“Yeah,” I dug one out of my purse and recorded the coordinates for the last ten locations, “thanks.”
“Oh, Ms. Parker, we’ve issued the reimbursement check for Mr. Martin’s vehicle. He should be receiving it by the end of the week.”
“Thanks again.”
Starting my car, I gave one last look to the hotel’s top floor window where Virgil and Chase were staying before exiting the garage. I’d run the coordinates and determine locations, check to see if any of them might be where they were holding Ryan, and then turn over whatever was left to the police department. They shouldn’t have any problem receiving information, illegal or otherwise, since I wasn’t technically an employee and it was willingly divulged.
I went to my office, ran the list of coordinates, checked the computer for aerial views of the locations, and numbered them based on likelihood to conceal a hostage. Just as I locked my door, my phone rang.
