“Gentlemen,” he said with a killer smile as he walked into the sitting room. “Let’s do a little business, shall we?”
DANNY’S ESPRESSO smelled more and more tempting the longer they sat in the dark. Linn wished she’d let him get one for her, too, when they’d stopped at the coffee bar, but the problem with drinking coffee on stakeouts with guys was that they got to relieve themselves practically wherever they wanted, and she had to go find a gas station or convenience store, sometimes blocks away.
And there was no way she was going to be caught in the ladies’ room when five hundred kilos of cocaine rolled into the shipping dock.
So she sat in the passenger seat while the scent of coffee and the itch of the transmitter taped to her ribs drove her slowly crazy, and endured the mixture of worry, frustration and adrenaline zooming around in her stomach. It spiked when a delivery truck turned the corner and rumbled up to the dock, but the sign on the side was for the local newspaper. Both Linn and Danny subsided into their seats, watching as the dock attendant received the bundles of the early-morning edition, tossing them onto the concrete as if they weighed nothing.
“Think that’s our guy?” Danny said.
Linn checked the photograph. “Looks like it. Control,” she said, “I’m confirming O’Reilly’s man is on the dock.”
“Roger that,” the operator replied in the tiny transmitter in her left ear.
Danny drained the last of the coffee, for which she was grateful. Now she wouldn’t ask him for a sip, which was friendlier than she wanted to get with a co-worker. Danny was nice enough, but he wasn’t Kellan.
“So,” Danny said, apropos of nothing. “After this, there’s no more Dean and Caroline, eh?”
Danny’s gaze drifted idly from the now-deserted dock to the point on the long alley where the winery truck would turn into the loading area, then moved to her waist, where it rested a second longer than necessary.
“No,” she said blankly. “They’ll die a natural death, I suppose.”
“Too bad. Coop had twenty dollars on them together by the time we closed this case.”
Linn forced herself not to react. After all, she and Kellan had chosen each other despite the rules against it. She just wished Danny hadn’t picked a moment when at least a dozen people were listening in on their channel.
“Tell Coop he’d do better putting his money in a retirement account.” Her lips felt tight on the words. Kellan had respected her enough not to talk about their relationship, even to his closest friends. But it was so guylike for his friends to take her on, not in private, but in a very public forum.
A challenge. A dare.
“I did,” Danny said, as if it didn’t matter very much. “But you know Cooper. He never listens to me. He figures they’re a good match.”
“How does he figure that?” She shouldn’t encourage him. But how to shut him up?
“Well, she’s different, isn’t she?”
He was talking about Caroline as if she were real. Was it some kind of code? Or was he just going to make a complete fool of her in the ears of everyone monitoring their conversation?
“Not his usual. Nope, not at all.”
Was that a good thing? Did this mean his friends approved? Linn waited for the other shoe to drop.
Instead, Danny went on, “Isn’t it weird trying to maintain a character that’s so unlike you?”
For a moment Linn had to regroup, realizing he was asking her a direct question. She was tempted to say no. She’d embraced her inner Caroline and was actually starting to enjoy it. Flirting with the feds back in the temporary house had been a hoot. She’d even gone out and bought leather pants, something she would never have dreamed of doing a month ago. Maybe a flavoring of Caroline did a woman’s character good. But this wasn’t the kind of thing you admitted to a fellow investigator on your very first stakeout together.
“Sometimes,” she said at last. It wasn’t a very satisfactory answer, but it was better than the truth. Tessa had told her she needed to integrate her sexy side—her inner bad girl—into her personality, and she’d been right. Caroline had a helluva lot more fun than Linn did. Once this was over, it was going to be interesting see where else Caroline planned to take her. She could really get to like it.
“Heads up,” Danny said quietly. “Team Two to Control. The van’s here.”
“Ten-four. Will advise Team One.”
The delivery van from the winery cruised slowly up the street with only its parking lights on. It reversed into the loading dock and came to a stop at the bottom of the ramp.
“Let’s do this,” Linn said, and reached for the door handle.
Danny grabbed her arm. “Wait a minute. What’s he doing here?”
Linn searched the stark light and shadow of the dock and watched a big man leap down from the passenger side of the van with unexpected agility.
“Dammit,” she said. “Control, Rick O’Reilly is in the van. He’s supposed to be in the hotel room doing the deal with Arroyo.”
“So what made him change his plans?” Danny asked.
O’Reilly was walking toward their car.
Linn shouldered the door open. “Looks like we’re about to find out.”
15
LINN WAS PREPARED to let O’Reilly take his time kissing her in greeting, but to her surprise the gesture was short and businesslike. She gave him a megawatt smile as she pulled away.
“Darling. I’ve missed you.”
O’Reilly glanced from her to Danny. “Likewise. Who’s this?”
Likewise? This wasn’t the hungry predator of the weekend, taking advantage of the fact that Kellan wasn’t around. This was a man who had moved on. But she didn’t have time to wonder why. Maybe he got like this when he conducted business.
“A friend of Dean’s. Danny, this is Richard O’Reilly, Mr. Arroyo’s man.” Danny nodded, close-lipped. “Danny’s here to do the heavy lifting for me.”
“There’s plenty to lift.” O’Reilly motioned them toward the dock, where the guy they’d seen before was already unloading crates onto a pallet jack. “We are making a legitimate wine delivery. Dean’s product is under it.”
“Once we’ve confirmed the shipment is in order, the winery truck will go to the warehouse. We’ll ride along.” Linn allowed Danny to boost her up onto the concrete dock. “Dean will finalize arrangements with Mr. Arroyo upstairs.”
And they would drive the van full of cocaine straight to the impound yard at headquarters and unload the kilos into the exhibit cage, to be held for evidence at Arroyo and O’Reilly’s trial.
While Arroyo’s man and the van driver unloaded the legitimate cases of wine, she stood idly by, half listening to O’Reilly try to get a conversation out of Danny, and half reading the headlines on the stack of newspapers that still stood, unattended, on the concrete.
Governor’s Tax Proposal Passes.
Nasdaq Indicates Computer Market on the Up-swing.
Drug Suspect Found Dead in Dade County Home.
Baby Escapes Death in Overheated Car.
What?
The plastic strap holding the bundle of papers in a stack had slipped when it landed, so Linn had no trouble extracting a thick copy from the haphazard pile.
Businessman Hidalgo Martinez, accused of importing more than one hundred pounds of wholesale pure cocaine into Miami Beach on his yacht, was found dead in his Boca Raton home yesterday morning by his housekeeper. Sources say that Martinez had cut a deal with federal prosecutors wherein he would name names in exchange for a reduction in his charges, but a representative of the Department of Justice was not available for comment.
Linn let the paper fall onto the stack with a slap. “Control, new information,” she murmured. “Hidalgo Martinez is dead. Tell Team One to watch their backs. We’ve been made.”
“I AM ASSUMING you do not have two and a half million dollars in your possession,” El Peligroso said, pinching the legs of his fine wool trousers as he seated himself in the
chair with a view of the door.
“You’re correct,” Kellan said just as smoothly. “I see your financier has brought his laptop. This is merely earnest money, to show our honest intentions. As soon as I have word from my people at the dock that the shipment is in order, I’ll have Mr. Cooper initiate the wire transfer into any account you choose to name.”
Arroyo nodded. “That will be satisfactory. The days of carrying suitcases of cash in a suspicious manner are, de gracias a Dios, gone forever.”
“Would you like to see it?” Cooper said. He flipped open the latches and opened the glossy briefcase. Rows of bundled bills lay inside. “Five percent in advance.”
Arroyo inclined his head. “I am less interested in your intentions than in your actions,” he said. “We will wait for word from downstairs.”
The device in Kellan’s ear clicked. “Team One,” said the operator, “problems. Rick O’Reilly is down at the dock. Team Two reports that Hidalgo Martinez is dead. It’s possible you’ve been compromised. Recommend caution.”
Their informant was dead? And what was Tricky Ricky doing at the dock? Arroyo wouldn’t have sent his first lieutenant to do something as menial as unloading product; he had four goons right here for that. But if Hidalgo had been taken out, that meant somehow Arroyo’s organization had learned he’d flipped. It was a given that before he died, he’d have told them everything he could in hopes of saving his skin. The guy who’d ratted out the organization in the first place would rat out the police without a second’s hesitation if he thought it would buy him even a few minutes of time.
But for Hidalgo, evidently, time had run out.
If Arroyo had sent Rick O’Reilly along with the shipment, it meant he was there for something serious.
Such as murder.
Kellan pasted on a smile and turned back to Arroyo, hoping his color was normal. He had to wrap this up and get down to the dock. Once O’Reilly knew Linn had no value to either Arroyo or his career, God knew what he’d do to her.
His phone trilled twice and went silent, the agreed-upon signal for the van’s arrival, since Arroyo could not know they were communicating electronically.
“The shipment has arrived.” He glanced from Arroyo to Farley, the money guy. “We should receive confirmation of its contents shortly.”
“Ah.” Arroyo sounded happy, as if he’d been told dinner would be served in the lounge. “We can begin the preliminaries for the transaction, at least. Mr. Farley, your computer?”
Farley flipped open the laptop, plugged the modem jack into the phone on the desk and waited for it to boot up.
Kellan felt the adrenaline in his bloodstream heat up again and begin its tap dance along his veins. Of course there was no money to transfer. The hundred thousand in the flash roll was meant to convince, not to leave his custody. He needed to hear from Linn about the shipment before the guy got the bank interface up, or he was going to have to stall.
If it really was Arroyo’s intention to kill him and Coop, it would happen once the wire transfer was underway. Once the Colombian had the money, there was no reason to leave them alive.
Except for the team in the next room. The arrests would be fast, but Kellan doubted the ambulances would get here in time to let him enjoy them.
As soon as he knew the shipment was all there, he was going to have to arrest Arroyo and Farley and render the goons nonop. Two against four—at least until the team kicked the door down.
Come on, Linn, he urged her wordlessly. Get it done and let me know you’re safe.
“THAT’S THE WINE, THEN,” the driver told O’Reilly. “What do you want me to do now?”
O’Reilly glanced at Linn, and she smiled Caroline’s catlike smile at him. He glanced away. “Nothing. The customer will check the merchandise, and you’ll be on your way.”
Something was definitely wrong. There was no emotion at all in that glance.
Linn thought fast. How else could he operate? From her observations, he fit the profile of a socio-path. He would have to reduce his victims to objects in order to kill them, then figure out some way of rationalizing it for himself, or it would drive him mad. That soulless glance confirmed her worst fears. If Hidalgo had informed on them before he died, she and Kellan and everyone associated with them tonight were simply to be taken out.
It was a damn good bet O’Reilly hadn’t actually bothered to pack the shipment.
“Dan, give me a hand, would you?” she asked. A good look in Danny’s eyes told her he’d arrived at the same conclusions as she had. They were going to have to come up with a plan on the fly.
She just wished she knew what it was.
“Start with this one, if you like.” O’Reilly indicated the nearest crate with a wave of his hand. The driver handed him a short crowbar and Danny levered off the lid with a screech of nails.
Nestled in hollows in the packing material were neat one-kilo packages wrapped in brown plastic. Over Danny’s shoulder she did a swift count.
“Twelve kilos per crate?” she asked O’Reilly.
“Give or take,” he replied. “Forty crates.”
“Danny, check another one, just to be thorough, will you?” She strolled over to O’Reilly and slipped her arm through his. “And what are you doing after our business is concluded here?”
Her left breast rubbed his arm. When he looked down at her, the soulless look left his eyes and something else slowly took its place. Something that was ugly and frightening, but at least it was alive.
“What, you’re not going to your warehouse?” he asked.
She waved a negligent hand. “Heavens, no. How dull. I can’t imagine you’d be interested in this sort of thing, either. Why don’t we leave the details to our very capable people here, and go and have a drink? After all, I think we have something to celebrate.”
“What’s Dean going to think if you do that?”
“Dean,” she said tightly, “is so wrapped up in impressing El Peligroso that he’ll hardly have time to wonder where I’ve gone. And you’ve already earned your stripes, haven’t you?” She ran a finger down the open placket of his shirt. “You don’t need to waste your time toadying to the boss. You can afford to leave that to the people who are—” she paused, as if searching for the right word, and heard Danny murmur something to the van driver “—less secure than you are. In more ways than one.”
“You are so right,” he said softly. “I knew you’d come around.”
Over his shoulder she glanced at Danny. Even in the shadows of the truck, which was illuminated by a single bulb mounted overhead, she could see his face was stark and white. He moved his head sharply to the right, then back.
The crate was empty.
“Darling,” she whispered against O’Reilly’s lips, and kneed him hard in the groin.
THE PHONE TRILLED a second time, and Arroyo smiled tightly as Kellan flipped it open.
“The van did not contain the shipment,” murmured the operator in his ear. “Except for a decoy crate. Fake the transaction. Get the target to commit himself.”
Kellan stiffened with apprehension and a flood of fear for Linn that he couldn’t under any circumstances allow his features to show. He couldn’t even ask Control if Linn and Danny were safe. If the shipment was a fake and O’Reilly was down there, Kellan had been right. Every second mattered. But he was trapped here as surely as if the doors were locked. Until they secured Arroyo, he couldn’t do what his heart demanded he do, which was protect the woman he loved from the immediate threat.
The woman he loved.
Between one second and the next, Kellan realized his life had changed. For the first time, there was someone whose survival was even more important to him than his own.
The problem was, he had no control over what was happening eight floors down. And if there was anything he hated, it was not having control, not being able to plan for any eventuality, not being the point man for what went down.
For the next few minutes, at least, h
e was going to have to trust Linn’s skill at her job. To keep them all alive, he had to behave as if there was nothing wrong and just trust that she and everyone else on his team knew what to do.
For him, nothing was more difficult.
He looked up and met Arroyo’s smile with one of his own, wolfishly insincere. “Well, gentlemen, it appears as though the merchandise has arrived safely, and everything’s in order.”
Arroyo sat back. “I have fulfilled my obligations. Mr. Cooper, initiate your transaction, please.”
Farley got up, and Coop glanced at Kellan as he passed him and took his place in front of the laptop. Instead of watching over Coop’s shoulder as he brought up his personal credit union’s Web site on the screen, Kellan circled around between Arroyo and the nearest goon.
“You don’t need me any longer, so I’ll say goodbye here, and take the shipment to my warehouse myself.”
“Transaction’s in progress,” Cooper reported, glancing from the screen to Farley, who was looking a little puzzled.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Mr. Wilcox,” Arroyo said, regret in his voice. “I’m afraid I must tell you some very sad news.”
Kellan felt the floor vibrate, as if an earthquake tremor—enough to make the plants shake, say—had rolled through.
“Target at the elevator is nonop,” reported Control. “Advancing on the door.”
“I am afraid your lovely Caroline will be devastated to hear that she will never be a guest in the home of Hidalgo Martinez again.”
Kellan lifted his eyebrows. Here it was. “Why, has he been sentenced already? I thought the hearing wasn’t for a year or more.”
“He has met with a more efficient judicial system than that of the United States government, Mr. Wilcox. He has met with me. He betrayed me, and now he has been punished.”
“Betrayed you? How?” Kellan braced himself for what was about to happen.
“He lied to me. He said that you were a friend, and reliable.”
“I’m both.”
“I am not a fool, Mr. Wilcox.”
His Hot Number Page 17
