by C. J. Miller
“You have no idea. People lost their retirement accounts and their savings, but I’ve lost everything. Everything.”
Was his former personal assistant included in “everything”?
“We’re doing our best to find Anderson,” Lucia said.
“I’ll be long gone before you find him,” Hammer said.
Lucia didn’t like the sound of that. Was he planning a suicide? To run? “We’ll need you around throughout the course of our investigation.”
“Yeah, yeah, right.”
“Do you have a forwarding address?” Lucia asked.
Hammer ran his hands through his hair. “To add to my nightmare, I’ll be moving in with my brother and sister-in-law. She’s a shrew who hates me.” Bitterness touched every word.
She sensed his cry for help. Lucia would ask Benjamin to provide Hammer with any counseling resources they may have. “We’ll be in touch if we find anything or have more questions,” Lucia said.
“Great, you do that,” Hammer said. “If I never see another FBI agent again, it will be too soon.” Then he mumbled something about how useless the FBI were. Lucia ignored the comment. Hammer was a man on the edge and she wasn’t looking to push him over it.
Hammer walked them to the door. Lucia handed Hammer her business card, which he threw to the floor. Again ignoring the rudeness, Lucia and Cash took the marble stairs to the sidewalk.
Hammer slammed his front door.
“He picked up on something between us,” Cash said as they walked. “Do you want to talk about that?”
“He’s half drunk and out of his mind with bitterness,” Lucia said. “What is there to talk about?”
“If you want to ignore it, then fine.”
“Yes, I want to ignore it.”
“We need to go back and check on him,” Cash said, turning back toward to the townhouse.
Lucia held up her hand and stepped in front of him. “Check on him? He will not let us back into his place.”
“He could be a danger to himself or others.”
Not in the immediate. “Cash, what are you playing at?”
A mischievous look danced across Cash’s face. “Let’s see if round two helps us.”
Cash circled around to the back of the group of townhouses, cutting down the alleyway between the sections. The alley behind the townhouses was narrow, passable by no more than a single car. The yards behind each home were beautifully landscaped.
Cash hopped the white chain-link fence into Hammer’s backyard.
“You’re trespassing,” Lucia said.
Cash extended his hand to help her over. “Come on. I have a feeling.”
They couldn’t waltz into someone’s backyard. Anything they heard or saw would be obtained illegally and inadmissible in court. Add to it how furious Benjamin would be, and it had the makings of a bad plan.
“Have courage, Lucia.”
Courage? She had courage in spades. Was he calling her a wimp? Knowing she was being baited into complying and unable to help herself, Lucia took his hand and climbed the fence. At least this way, she could keep an eye on Cash and if he learned something, she would be in the know. Cash took the steps to the deck, pulled opened the sliding glass door and stepped inside.
He had unlocked the door while he had been pretending to admire the view. She should have found his gall appalling, but Lucia was impressed by his planning.
They stepped inside and Lucia’s heart beat faster. If they were caught entering Hammer’s home without a warrant, they could be arrested. If they were arrested, she’d lose her job and Cash would go back to prison.
“Cash,” she whispered. She needed to warn him. To make sure he understood what he was risking by doing this.
He pressed a finger over his lips. Hammer’s voice floated into the kitchen. It sounded as if he was on the phone. To make out what he was saying, Cash crept across the floor. Then he was still.
“I know, but I have the FBI crawling all over me and that makes me nervous.”
A pause.
“I lost everything. My home. My career. Kinsley, what more do you want from me? I don’t have anything left to give.”
Kinsley. As soon as Lucia heard the name she remembered Kinsley had been his personal assistant at Holmes and White. Another pause.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I told them nothing. What more do you need me to do? I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”
Cash closed his eyes, perhaps concentrating on what Hammer was saying.
“She asked about me? When can I see her?” Hammer asked.
A growl. Cash’s eyes snapped open and Lucia whirled to see a black dog standing between them and the sliding glass door. The dog locked his legs and bared his teeth. He barked.
“Hold on a minute,” Hammer said into the phone. “Slasher! Quiet!”
Slasher. What a wonderful name for a dog. Based on the dog’s demeanor, it fit. They were intruders in his home.
Cash stood and advanced on the dog. He looked as though he was planning to charge at the dog, but when he was close he laid his hands on the dog’s flank and whispered something into his ear. At the same time, Cash motioned for Lucia to leave. The dog visibly relaxed.
Lucia did as Cash directed, looking over her shoulder at the pair. Cash seemed to have the situation under control, but it could escalate quickly if the dog decided Cash was an enemy. Slasher barked again.
“Slasher! Shut up!” Hammer yelled from another room. “Let me see what that lunatic dog’s problem is now.”
Cash didn’t panic. He remained facing the dog and slipped away, following Lucia outside. He slid the glass door closed behind him and leaped over the deck, falling to the ground. Lucia followed him.
“Are you okay?” she mouthed.
He nodded.
They crouched under the deck. If Hammer looked outside, he wouldn’t see them. If he let his dog into the gated yard, they could have a problem.
“You even charm dogs?” Lucia asked.
“Dogs are pack animals. I love them and they sense that. They want to be friends and please me,” he said.
He made it sound easy. Her respect for him increased.
They waited a few minutes before leaving the yard the same way they’d come.
“How did you know Hammer would call someone?” Lucia asked.
“He was sweating when we were talking to him. We rattled him and he’d need to vent about it. He’s not a leader. He’s a follower. He needs someone to tell him what to do. That’s why he was easy for Anderson to use, knowingly or unknowingly, in the con and for Young to use as a scapegoat,” Cash said.
“We can’t use anything we overheard as evidence,” she said.
“Doesn’t matter. We have something more to go on,” Cash said. “Hammer knows something but he’s being instructed to shut his mouth. Someone is dangling the woman he loves, Kinsley, in front of him like a prize if he does.”
It shouldn’t be hard to find out more about Kinsley from employment records at Holmes and White. Getting a warrant for those records could prove challenging, given that Lucia couldn’t explain how and why they wanted Kinsley’s records. “Do you think that he would lie about what he knows for a woman? He’s taking all the heat.”
“Haven’t you ever been in love?” Cash asked.
She’d once thought she was and had been terribly wrong. “No.”
Cash frowned. “Then as a man who has, I’ll tell you. When a woman wins a man’s heart, deserved or not, he will do anything to be with her and to make her happy.”
How would it feel to be on the receiving end of Cash’s devotion? Exploring those thoughts felt too intimate and were, at best, inappropriate. She brushed them away. She’d been a fool for love before and it had ended badly. “We h
ave to build a strong case. Not prop it up with flimsy evidence and theories.”
Cash leaned closer. “I’m not asking you to do it my way. But don’t ask me to do it yours. I never did learn how to color inside the lines.”
* * *
Cash walked a step behind Lucia, giving her space to think. Even though it hadn’t been Cash’s call to work with Lucia, she’d been annoyed to be assigned the Young and Hammer interviews with him and hadn’t hidden it.
Cash’s plan to win her over at the first opportunity wasn’t going well. She was prickly, standoffish and immune to his charm. When he thought he’d made headway, she backed off and shut down.
His one remaining ray of hope was in her words. Lucia had said clearly she wouldn’t help him, not that she couldn’t. If he could convince Lucia he had good intentions and planned to serve his time, but that being close to Adrian was crucial, perhaps she would change her mind and pull the strings he knew she held.
“Hey, man.”
It was a voice from the past that Cash recognized immediately. He considered pretending it was a case of mistaken identity, but he had to face his new reality. Hiding and lying were habits he’d left in prison. In this life, if he wanted to live with Adrian as a family, he had to be completely honest. One sniff of a lie, and Lucia would never trust him. Trust was the key to winning her over.
“Hey,” Cash said, turning around, extending his arm and clasping his former associate’s hand.
“I heard you got sprung,” Boots said. Boots was a petty criminal with more brawn than brains. But he had good connections and knew how to keep his mouth shut.
“I’m a free man,” Cash said. It was the story the FBI had told him to use if he encountered anyone from his criminal past. If the FBI had any chance of using him to locate Clifton Anderson, he couldn’t broadcast he was working for the Feds to every member of the criminal underworld. He’d be shunned and mark himself for a hit.
“Who’s your lady?” Boots asked, putting his hands in his pockets.
“This is my friend Lucy.”
“Are you working?” Boots asked, looking between the two of them.
Lucia’s eyes widened slightly, perhaps wondering if they’d had a breach in their cover. Cash knew Boots was referring to them working a con.
“Not at the moment,” Cash said, darting his eyes over his shoulder at Lucia and subtly shaking his head at Boots. Let Boots think Lucia was a woman he was dating. He didn’t want Boots propositioning him with a job offer, especially in front of Lucia.
“Where you staying?” Boots asked, taking a cigarette from one pocket and putting it between his lips while drawing a lighter from another pocket.
“The Hideaway.”
Boots winced and lit the end of his cigarette. “How the mighty have fallen. I’ll be in touch. I have some work that might interest you and help you get some nicer digs.”
“Appreciate it, man.” They nodded and went their separate ways. Boots continued down the street at a slow lope as he smoked his cigarette and flicked the ashes on the ground.
“That was close,” Lucia said, once they were in the car, a company sedan with its boring, fabric interior and no luxuries.
“Would it have mattered if he’d pegged you for a Fed?” Cash asked.
“Of course it would. I don’t want your cover blown. We’ve just started,” Lucia said.
He took it a step further. “If my cover is blown, then I’m no use to you and I’d go back to prison.”
Lucia turned and looked at him, keeping her hands gripped on the steering wheel. He was pressing her emotionally without much effort. “I don’t want you back in prison.”
That was an improvement from the initial hostility he’d encountered. “Then take the anger down a notch,” Cash said. “You’re making me nervous.”
Lucia blew out her breath. “You have nothing to be nervous about. You’re working with me on this case. When it’s over, we’ll part ways as former colleagues.”
“We’ll be working in the same building for the three years I’ve been given in this program. Tell me how to pretend there is nothing between us. I’ve already slipped once. I kissed you.”
Could he use their physical attraction to convince her to use her influence to transfer him closer to his son? She couldn’t deny the powerful chemistry between them forever and she may prefer he work farther away from her to avoid any temptation.
Lucia stared at him, panic registering on her face as if she hadn’t considered how long they would be trapped together with that kiss haunting them. “I won’t ask for a transfer. I’ve been with white collar for a few months and I plan on staying much longer.”
He’d wait for her to realize that transferring him at the end of this case was the better option. He sensed something she wasn’t saying about her short time with white collar. “I don’t want you to walk away from your job. Maybe they’ll move me to another office,” Cash said, planting the idea.
Lucia stared ahead at the road. “If you’re as good as Benjamin seems to believe, you’ll crack the case, bring in Clifton Anderson and we’ll recover some of the money. We’ll wrap the case up in a few months. Benjamin will get his promotion and you can spend the rest of your time filing paperwork at headquarters.”
Cash hated paperwork and office work, which were about the same to his way of thinking. Being stuck at headquarters away from Adrian doing both was near the worst-case scenario. “Sounds abysmal.” But not as bad as jail. Not nearly as good as being closer to Adrian. A commutable distance. Maybe he could get special privileges to drive to see his son, nights and weekends. As long as he showed up to work on time and did what he needed to do, what boss would begrudge him time with his son?
But any allowances required trust and worthiness. He needed to find Clifton Anderson and the money he’d stolen first.
“Aren’t you looking for anything out of the deal?” Cash asked.
“The money returned to the people who need it,” Lucia said, stating it like it was obviously her goal.
“No promotion?”
Lucia tensed. “I’ve already been given a promotion.”
She sounded defensive.
“Do you want me to drop you at the Hideaway?” Lucia asked.
He’d rather go anywhere but there. “No, thanks. Even when I take a shower there I feel dirtier. I’ll head back to the office.” Which was where he had taken a number of showers. Their onsite gym facilities were clean and free of pests—unlike the bathroom at the motel.
Lucia pulled into traffic. “That’s where I’m headed. I have paperwork to do.”
“How’d you get stuck with that job?”
“I wasn’t stuck with it. Benjamin wanted me to handle that part of the job.”
The administrative part? Benjamin had mentioned to him that Lucia was in charge of filing reports and documents for the team. Why would Benjamin waste a good field agent’s time with that? “You can pass the torch to me, I guess, when this is over.”
The idea seemed to cheer her up a little. “The time will be over before you know it. Then you can be with your son.”
Which was exactly what he didn’t want. For the time to pass and Adrian to grow while Cash never had the opportunity to have a relationship with him. It was a small measure of comfort that Lucia hadn’t forgotten about Adrian. “The four years in prison went by at a crawl.”
Prison had robbed him of time with his son, but it had also been difficult, challenging and stressful to constantly watch his back, be on guard and anticipate someone trying to harm or kill him. Six men had died on his cell block while he had been incarcerated. Cash considered himself lucky that he’d survived relatively untouched. At least physically. Thinking about his cell and the rules and restrictions and food made him sick to his stomach. Jail was emotionally and psychologi
cally draining. It was no wonder some repeat offenders were hardened beyond reach.
The car felt cramped, and a rush of frustration and anxiety bubbled up in him. He needed space and air. “I’ve changed my mind. Drop me off here.”
Lucia looked at him, her brows knit together. “Here? In the middle of the street?” She stopped for a red light and he climbed out of the car. “See you, Luc.” He shut the door behind him. He needed to walk and breathe fresh air.
So little stood between him and that cage. Disgust and anxiety clawed at him. Prison. He could go back if he made a mistake. The FBI would only keep him out as long as they could use him to bring in Clifton Anderson. What if Cash couldn’t lead them to him? What if something went wrong and Clifton Anderson was picked up by another agency? Would the FBI return him to jail? He could lose his chance of a reunion with his son.
Lucia called after him and he ignored her. Embarrassed about his behavior and unwilling to explain it, he stuck his hands in his pockets and kept his head down. He didn’t want to risk being recognized again by anyone from his former life. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He wanted to disappear, but with the GPS tracker monitoring him, he couldn’t do that. He was trapped in the confines of the city under the careful watch of the FBI. It was hard to feel truly free. He was still imprisoned, just in a different way.
The pounding of footsteps and Lucia calling his name had him glancing over his shoulder. The persistent woman didn’t know when to give up. She caught up to him, out of breath. Strands of her brown hair had broken free of the ponytail she had it tied in. He had the urge to pull the elastic from it and let it loose around her face. He kept his hands pressed to his sides.
“I need space,” he said, feeling a combination of weak and whiny. He hated weak and whiny.
Concern touched her face. “Tell me what that was about because normal people don’t jump out of a car,” she said.
