Poppy felt sick to her stomach as she voiced everyone’s question. “What’s wrong?”
Ramirez took a moment, then, with a heavy tone, said, “Agent West is dead. There was a sign of a struggle. It appears to be a burglary gone wrong. He was shot at point-blank range.”
“No way,” Poppy said, not believing that story for a second, rage and grief choking her. “This is El Escorpion, I know it. Marcus was on to something and they took him out by making it look like a mugging.”
“We don’t know that. This could be a sad coincidence. Miami can be a dangerous place, even to experienced agents.”
“Bullshit,” Poppy said, her eyes watering as the full import of the situation hit her. Her partner was dead. Someone had killed Marcus. Marcus, the man with his eyes trained on the future, determined to be chief someday. Now none of that would happen. “That’s utter bullshit. Marcus was a black belt and a weapons expert. There’s no way some punk-ass tweaker looking for something to pawn took him out. No. I’m not buying that.”
“That does seem far-fetched,” Shaine agreed. “What happened yesterday? Marcus was supposed to be running background on Raquel as well as interrogating Raven.”
“Apparently, he went to Amerine Labs and made some inquiries that made some people uncomfortable. I received a call from the mayor telling me that I’d needlessly humiliated an esteemed member of the community.”
“I was supposed to chase down the lead at Amerine Labs,” Victoria said, frowning. She looked to Poppy. “Did he tell you he was going to the lab?”
“No.” She shook her head, but it didn’t surprise Poppy. Marcus believed in chasing after opportunity, not waiting for it to land in his lap. If he scented blood on the water, he was like a shark closing in on the kill. “He didn’t tell me he was going there.”
Poppy pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to keep the tears at bay. “But Marcus didn’t believe in hanging back when action was possible. He must’ve learned something that led him to Amerine Labs. One thing is for certain, if Marcus went there, he was on to something.”
“In light of the situation, I want you all to go home. Let’s huddle up for now. Kelly and Jones, I want you to call in sick, make some excuse, but don’t go into the club tonight.”
“You don’t think that will look suspicious,” Shaine asked.
“No, you’re college kids on break. College kids can be notoriously irresponsible, especially when they don’t have classes to clock in to. They’ll get over it. In the meantime, I will handle arrangements for Marcus’s return to Los Angeles.”
Blinking back the tears that were suddenly too many to hold back, Poppy rapidly exited the building and headed home, needing air and space.
This case was taking so much and giving back so little.
First Capri and now Marcus.
Someone was playing hardball.
And mowing over anyone in their way.
Poppy pressed the gas pedal down harder and turned up the radio until she no longer heard her own cries, only the sound of rock and roll.
* * *
Shaine knew he should leave Poppy to her grief, but he couldn’t do it.
He walked through the adjoining door and found Poppy on her bed, sobbing.
On instinct, he gathered her in his arms and held her while she cried. She didn’t fight him, only clung to him as she soaked his shirt with her tears.
“Were you...close?” Shaine asked as she pulled away, wiping her nose to stare at him in question. “You and Marcus...”
He didn’t want to ask but the question nagged at him.
Poppy wiped her nose, then understanding dawned and she looked irritated. “Marcus was gay, you idiot,” she said, rising to rinse her face. Afterward she returned, looking freshly scrubbed but still angry. “Why would you ask me that? I can’t feel something for a partner unless I’m sleeping with him?”
“No, not at all,” he protested, feeling like a jerk. “I’m sorry. It was inappropriate for me to even ask. I was just...” Jealous? God, that sounded worse. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
The fire went out of Poppy’s eyes and she sat heavily on the bed beside Shaine. “It’s okay, I’m just...raw.”
“I know.” He gently clasped her hand. “Tell me about Marcus. I want to get to know him as you knew him.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Poppy sniffed and nodded, taking a moment to regroup. “Well, he was superambitious, even more so than me. He had grand designs to be chief someday. In fact, he was hoping this case was going to help him land a position in the New York field office because it was closer to DC than Los Angeles.” The tears started fresh. “But that’s not happening now. I can’t believe he’s gone. I feel like I’m in a fog and I can’t wake up.”
“He sounds like my kind of agent,” Shaine said. “For what it’s worth, I believe you. I think you’re right... This was no accident.”
“I know I’m right.” Poppy said, glad to have Shaine on her side. “Marcus was an expert in self-defense, a top marksman and had a black belt. There’s just no way it went down the way the cops are saying it did.”
“So if he went to Amerine Labs, there must be someone there that felt the heat.”
“But how are we supposed to get near Amerine now? It’s not as if we can walk in there—it’ll blow our covers.”
“And if Victoria tries, it’ll tip off that the FBI and DEA are working together, which will only put more attention on us as newbies at the club.”
Poppy agreed, her eyes welling again. “I can’t help but believe that we somehow caused this. Maybe we should’ve been more cautious, more attentive? I don’t know. What made him go off on his own like that?”
Shaine let her vent, knowing that she wasn’t exactly looking for answers, just someone to listen.
“I should’ve checked in more. I knew he was getting restless. He wasn’t cut out for staying behind the scenes and watching the action from afar. He’d put in for the undercover position but he was denied.”
“Do you think he could’ve handled the pressure of undercover work?”
“I don’t know,” Poppy answered. “He was particular about some things. Very type A. I’m not sure he could bypass that switch in his head to become someone different. But who knows? He was brilliant—he may have found a way. Now he’ll never get the chance.”
Shaine wasn’t going to say something trite such as “everything happens for a reason” because he knew how aggravating it was to hear that when grieving, but he didn’t know what else to say.
But Poppy seemed to understand when he remained silent. “Don’t worry. It’s not the words, but the sentiment. Thank you.”
Shaine nodded, relieved. “When Spencer died, I couldn’t stand the way people would constantly say that, as if a little kid dying was somehow in God’s grand plan. But I was too young to understand that it was just an attempt to make sense of something that didn’t make sense at all.”
Poppy agreed, murmuring, “I know it’s not the same, either. Your brother died before he could really live.”
Shaine didn’t like to talk about Spencer. The youngest Kelly disappeared when Spencer was ten. His body was found a few days later, dumped in Seminole Creek. Spencer’s killer was never found.
Because of Spencer, all the Kelly boys went into the FBI, the thirst for justice their driving need.
Shaine shook off the melancholy that always came when thoughts of Spencer popped up and said, “Marcus sounded like a good man. We’ll find whoever did this and make sure they pay.”
“How?”
Poppy’s plaintive question echoed the concern in his heart. This case was ballooning. No leads, just dead ends. And dead people.
But giving up wasn’t an option. “Any way possible,” Shaine replied, and meant it.
Poppy leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder with a small hiccup. “Thank you for coming over,” she said.
“You’re welcome.�
�
Too bad they couldn’t have worked things out before. He missed Poppy and that was evident by the way he craved to be near her, needed to comfort her when she was sad and wanted to rip people’s heads off when they stared at her breasts.
Was that missing her? Or was he still in love with her?
Two years should be plenty of time to get over someone.
What if Poppy is the kind of woman you never get over?
Shaine knew it wasn’t the time, but he wanted to talk about the past—why she left the way she had; what she’d been up to since leaving.
There were so many questions, so many buried hurts that being around her again had just begun to unearth.
“Are you happy?” he asked instead.
Poppy sighed and shrugged. “I guess. Yeah, I mean, as happy as anyone, I suppose. I have a decent apartment in a good neighborhood and my neighbors aren’t jerks.”
“That’s happiness?”
Poppy pulled away to look at him with a frown. “What’s happiness, Shaine? The definition changes daily. Today, I’m very unhappy, that much I know.”
“Of course,” he murmured, wondering what he was hoping would happen with that line of questioning. He never threw out random questions. So why was he doing it now?
Talk about passive-aggressive...
“The lines have blurred,” Poppy said with a brief smile of understanding. “It’s okay. Going two years without even saying hello, to suddenly pairing up undercover, it’s bound to confuse things. We shouldn’t read too much into it.”
He nodded, seaming his lips before he let slip something else that needed to remain buried. “You’re right,” he agreed, matching her smile. “We’re partners. Here to do a job.”
“Right,” Poppy affirmed. “And we’re going to catch this SOB before he or she manages to ruin more lives.”
“For what it’s worth... I’m glad I’m working with you. You’re a good agent,” Shaine admitted. “Whatever you’ve been doing these last two years has been good for you. I’m impressed.”
Poppy tried to smile in response, but her eyes were welling. She ducked her head to avoid letting him see, but he’d caught it, anyway. “Oh, man, I can’t seem to stop with the waterworks,” she said, wiping at her eyes, trying to blink away the moisture.
Shaine knew why she was crying. He’d struck a raw nerve. There was so much left unsaid between them.
For a long time Shaine had refused to admit the reason Poppy had left. It’d been less shameful to say she’d bailed over a fight, instead of the true reason.
It was hard to look yourself in the eye and admit that you’d been a royal dick.
Love was complicated enough as it was, but then add in their career choices and it became downright impossible to figure out.
The bald truth was simple: he hadn’t been supportive of her career. Fear had pushed him to squash her ambition.
That wasn’t something you could just say “I’m sorry” for and move on. He didn’t blame her for splitting. If anyone had tried to do the same to him, it would’ve been sayonara immediately.
But the time for apologies had passed.
All he could do was respect her as a fellow agent and do his best to work alongside her as he would with anyone else.
And try to forget that they’d slept together.
Again.
Hell, he already knew that would be damn near impossible, but he’d find a way to deal.
That was his job.
CHAPTER 17
Rosa took a deep breath before starting the videoconference with Patrick Hobbs in DC.
“I heard the news,” Patrick said, his expression somber. “Marcus West was a good agent. His record spoke for itself.”
“Losing him is a blow to the investigation,” she said, pouring herself a scotch from the lower drawer in her desk. “I don’t usually drink during the day but I figure this warrants a little latitude.”
“Losing a valuable team member is a bitch,” Patrick said without judgment.
“Damn straight,” she murmured, downing the shot. Rosa savored the burn in her throat and leaned back in her chair with a long exhale. “We know the last person to see West alive was Mateo Hernandez of Amerine Labs. I can’t send Kelly or Jones to speak with him or it’ll blow their covers and I don’t have time to vet another agent to replace West so I’ll go myself.”
Rosa knew she could send York or Rocha from Miami PD, but she was hungry to close this case and she didn’t trust anyone but herself to rattle Mateo and Selena Hernandez.
Patrick seemed to agree that Rosa’s idea was the only option. “Sounds like the only play available. Though, I can’t help but think that if Hernandez was involved, he’s pretty damn bold to do this practically in plain sight. He’d have to know he’d be a primary suspect after their conversation and his buddy Mayor Ferdinand’s phone call. Seems either too easy or way too cocky.”
“True. But it’s the only lead I have right now. The bar isn’t revealing much. Angelo isn’t stupid. He’s not giving up any leads so soon after Capri’s death. Everyone is in a holding pattern while the dust settles.”
“We knew this case wasn’t going to be easy. I just didn’t expect the body count to start climbing within weeks of the start.”
“Amen to that,” Rosa said, pouring another drink as she prepared to share something else. “I had a talk with Agent Jones. I was right about them hiding something...they used to date.”
Patrick frowned. “There was no paperwork filed.”
“Because they didn’t feel it necessary to inform brass, as per protocol, about their relationship.” She waited a beat. “How do you feel about that?”
“Honestly, if it’s not affecting their job performance, I say live and let live. Shaine Kelly is a hotshot, reckless SOB, but he comes from good stock. All those Kelly boys are solid agents. They get results and I’m not going to argue with that. It’s why I picked him for this assignment.”
“I’m inclined to feel the same, but I’d be lying if I didn’t find their dishonesty troubling. No, that’s not entirely true. It’s this case... I’m hyperaware of how everything could go wrong and torpedo all our careers as it goes down. I don’t want anything coming back to bite us in the ass...even something as seemingly small as a long-past taboo office romance.”
“Being able to lie without tipping anyone off is an undercover agent’s strongest defense. Besides, so they have history...as long as they can handle leaving the past behind them, let’s just let them do their job. Keeping everyone alive is the idea, not policing who they’ve slept with.”
Rosa chuckled, appreciating Hobbs’s straight talk. She appreciated facts. It was the gray areas that made her twitchy.
“You’re nothing like your predecessor. From what I’ve heard about him, he liked rules.”
“He liked paperwork,” Patrick corrected. “Me? Not so much. I like closed cases.”
She couldn’t argue with that logic, but she had to bring up the obvious. “What happens if they can’t keep the past in the past?”
“I say, let’s not borrow trouble if we don’t have to. Focus on the case.”
“You’re a smart man.”
Patrick chuckled, saying, “Sometimes,” and then added before disconnecting, “Keep me in the loop and don’t drink yourself stupid.”
Rosa smirked as she returned her shot glass to the drawer for another time. If she was going to approach Amerine Labs, she better have her ducks in a row or there was no telling who else was going to be ringing her up for another ass-chewing.
* * *
Angelo wiped down the bar, surveying the crowd. Things had been sketchy since Capri’s death. As much as he’d tried to stamp out the rumors that Capri’s death hadn’t been related to Bliss, business had been down.
And that didn’t bode well for him.
Raquel walked in and went straight to him, but he wasn’t in the mood for her bullshit drama.
Before he had a chance to shut he
r down, Raquel hit him with both barrels.
“You said you were ending it with Brandi,” Raquel hissed, her eyes flashing. “I should’ve known anything coming out of your mouth is a friggin’ lie.”
“Calm yourself,” Angelo snapped. “Don’t try to collar me. It will end badly for you.”
“As badly as it did for Capri? Yeah, I know you were banging that little brat, too. But your fun days are over. I’m sick of your shit and I’m done. Brandi can have my scraps. You two belong together.”
“Raquel,” Angelo growled, moving quickly after her. He grabbed her arm and dragged her into the back, shoving her against the wall. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? You don’t end things with me. If I’m tired of your company, I will tell you. You hear me? That’s how it works.”
“Screw you,” Raquel hissed, not backing down. “You might have everyone else snowed in this place, but I’m not afraid of you. You’re just a two-bit dealer with dreams of grandeur who enjoys playing king. But you’re just a boy playing a game and I see that now. So, let go of me before I knock your nuts into your throat.”
Angelo wanted to squeeze the life out of Raquel’s bitter mouth but he knew meeting Raquel with force wasn’t going to work. Raquel needed a softer touch if she was going to be managed.
Switching tactics, he released her arm and gently rubbed where he’d bruised her. “Baby, you know you drive me crazy when you talk like that. I don’t know where you get your information, but I wasn’t sleeping with Capri. She was like a kid sister, you know that.”
“You’re lying,” Raquel snapped, but her lower lip began to tremble. “I know you were.”
“Baby-girl,” Angelo said softly, nuzzling her neck. “C’mon, what’s really going on? You’re all piss and vinegar tonight. Tell me what’s happening so we can get through it together.”
For a second he thought she’d bought it. That tiny bit of softening in her shoulders tricked him into thinking that he’d said the right things. But suddenly his balls exploded in a rage of pain as she buried her knee into his groin, shoving him away from her.
“Tell it to your whore Brandi. I’m done with your lies.”
Deep Cover Page 13
