Deep Cover

by Kimberly Van Meter

  Angelo gasped, seeing stars as he cupped his abused testicles. Raquel sent a final look of disgust his way and then left.

  Rocco appeared, his eyes widening when he saw Angelo hobbling. “You okay, man?”

  He jerked a short nod, unable to speak just yet. But he was fantasizing about all the different ways he’d make Raquel pay for that little temper tantrum.

  Ways that would inflict major pain and leave permanent marks.

  Angelo managed a brief, crooked smile as he said, “Watch who you spend time with, bro. Sometimes those clingers just don’t know how to let go.”

  Rocco laughed and grabbed a replacement bottle of New Amsterdam gin from the shelf. “You gotta watch where you dip your wick, man. Sometimes, you land in poison.”

  God knew that was right.

  You play, you pay.

  Except when people played with Angelo...he always won.

  * * *

  Shaine tried to appear as if he hadn’t seen the whole exchange between Raquel and Angelo, acting as if he’d only just walked in as Raquel had stalked out of the storeroom.

  But he’d caught an earful.

  Raquel was out for blood. She’d found out about Angelo playing both sides against the middle.

  Had Capri threatened to say something to Brandi? Did Angelo kill Capri to shut her up?

  And if so, why would he care about losing Brandi so much he’d commit murder?

  Angelo had only said that Brandi was off-limits, but implied that Raquel was a barnacle once attached. It didn’t seem that way when Raquel was ready to add Angelo’s nuts to her salad.

  Raquel made sure that Angelo knew she meant business. Did that mean Raquel was on Angelo’s hit list?

  Shaine didn’t have time to find Poppy and share what he’d found out. His shift didn’t end for another two hours and Poppy’s set was starting soon.

  He’d just have to sit on it and keep his eyes and ears open.

  Once Angelo returned, limping only slightly, Shaine decided to tease him a bit, just like a regular smart-ass dude would.

  “Bit off more than you could chew?”

  Angelo’s grin was worn around the edges, but his eyes held a dark, angry glint. “Some thrill rides should come with a warning label.”

  “I thought you said you were done with that one? Something change?”

  “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a hot ass and sweet body. Raquel is a firecracker in bed and I’m a weak man.”

  Shaine laughed. “You dog. So what now? Is she going to make things weird between you and Brandi?”

  “Naw, I’ve got Brandi wrapped around my finger.”

  “You mean wrapped around something,” Shaine supplied with a lecherous grin that Angelo returned, fist-bumping Shaine.

  “You know it.”

  “So what’s your secret?” Shaine asked in a conspiratorial tone. “I mean, how do you keep so many hot women chasing after you when they know you’re a player? Teach me the ways, master.”

  Angelo guffawed, plainly amused by Shaine’s flattery. “You don’t need my help. You seem to have the women flocking around you without any trouble. Whatever happened with you and that hot redhead I sent your way?”

  “We exchanged numbers, but ultimately, it wasn’t going to happen. Different goals.”

  “Ah, another Stage 3 clinger?”

  “Something like that.”

  Shaine hated having to throw shade on someone he’d never even spoken to, but he couldn’t have Angelo thinking that he wasn’t interested in the game.

  “How about you and Laci? She’s a hot number. I wouldn’t mind putting my stamp on that Grade A Choice, if you know what I mean.”

  He did, and it took all the strength he had not to throat punch the guy. “We’re compatible,” Shaine answered with a noncommittal shrug. “And she’s down for a good time, so go ahead... That is, if you don’t think Brandi would mind.”

  “Brandi’s not my keeper,” Angelo scoffed.

  “Does she know that?”

  “Why?”

  “Just wondering. She seems pretty attached.”

  “Women. Give ’em good dick and it’s like they can’t get enough.”

  Shaine chuckled. “I hear you, man. The struggle is real.”

  A few more moments of sexist banter and bragging followed until Shaine excused himself to go to the john.

  He knew Ramirez had instructed Poppy to get close to Angelo by any means possible, but he couldn’t stomach the idea of Poppy sliding into bed with that man. It physically turned his stomach.

  So how was he going to keep Angelo from trying to move in on Poppy without jeopardizing the investigation?

  Worse, how was he going to keep Poppy from finding out that he’d manipulated the situation to keep Angelo from her? When she found out that he’d only given her lip service earlier...

  She’d go ape shit.

  That same old argument would surface about him not believing she was capable of doing the job, and all the good stuff that’d come about recently would wash right out the door.

  What was the answer?

  Leave her be and let Poppy do her job, however she sees fit.

  The advice tasted sour on his tongue, but he knew it was simply a bitter pill of truth that he was plainly resisting.

  Knowing the truth and allowing it to unfold were two separate things.

  But he’d have to find a way to let it happen.

  Because if he’s learned anything, Poppy didn’t take kindly to anyone treating her as less than she was.

  And damn, he respected the hell out of her for it.

  Now, if he could just keep his heart from stopping every time he pictured her in danger, maybe they might be able to survive whatever was to come.

  Maybe.

  CHAPTER 18

  Selena Hernandez graced the short, stocky female DEA agent with a practiced smile as she slid into her desk with a perplexed expression.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” she asked, feigning ignorance. She knew exactly who it was and why she was there. Damn you, Mateo.

  “I’m DEA director Rosa Ramirez, Ms. Hernandez. I’m here to speak with you regarding fellow agent Marcus West.”

  “Right, yes, and why would I know this Agent West?”

  “Because he came to Amerine Labs to speak with your brother Mateo and then that night he was killed. Seems highly coincidental.”

  “Indeed,” Selena murmured with faint distress. “But I still don’t see how that affects me or my company.”

  “May I be frank?”

  “I would appreciate nothing more.”

  “Excellent.” Rosa leaned forward, pinning Selena with hard, black eyes. “Amerine Labs was listed on the manifest as the receiver of drugs that were not what was actually shipped from Shenzhen, China. The name was a false identity, tipped off by Customs, which caused them to hold the shipment.”

  “Yes, my brother informed me of the malicious prank. Let me be frank, as well. While pharmaceuticals may seem like a dry, dusty academic pursuit, drug espionage is actually quite common. We’re on the cutting edge of new research and there are many who’d like to take a peek at our formulary. This was simply a nasty ploy to smear our good name, which, judging by the fact that you are here questioning me, tells me whoever did this accomplished their objective.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” Rosa Ramirez allowed, though Selena didn’t think she bought the story. “I’m sure you can appreciate that we have to follow up on Agent West’s last contact.”

  “Of course.”

  “And, according to his records, Agent West was last seen with your brother Mateo.”

  “I find it tragic but nothing more,” Selena said with a delicate sniff. The short DEA agent was like a pit bull with a bone. “I am saddened by your loss, but I’m too busy running my company to spend time running some sort of illicit drug operation on the side. At the risk of being rude, I find your implication preposterous.”

  �
��Duly noted. However, when it comes to our own, we leave no stone unturned, even when disturbing that stone may unsettle the flow of the river, if you catch what I’m saying.”

  “Please elaborate. Speaking in metaphor is not my strong suit.”

  “Fair enough. What I’m saying in plain English is we will pursue any and all leads, no matter whose door it leads us to. Even if it leads us to doors where people with influential friends live.”

  “I would expect nothing less. I do hope you realize soon that I’m not the enemy, so you can turn your attention to catching actual criminals who are turning this beautiful city into a dangerous place.”

  The agent cast a perfunctory smile Selena’s way and rose to leave, but not before dropping one last bomb.

  “I’ve ordered a copy of every customs report with your company listed as the receiver, with particular interest to anything coming from Shenzhen. If anything interesting pops up, I’ll be sure to be in touch.”

  Ramirez’s smile widened as if she knew she’d just cast a wide net, figuring something would pop up, and let herself out.

  Selena’s heart rate tripled as anxiety fluttered her senses.

  She stabbed the intercom to ring her receptionist. “Get Mateo in my office, now.”

  “Yes, Ms. Hernandez,” came the swift answer, and within moments Mateo strolled in, looking as if he’d just spent the afternoon on the links, instead of working.

  “We have a problem,” she stated, rubbing her temples as a tension headache began to pound. “Another DEA agent was just here. And not just any agent, but the director. What the hell did you say to that agent while he was here?”

  “I didn’t say anything. He seemed to think he knew something and I let him think that. Then, I sent him on his way. Trust me, he had nothing.”

  “Well, he’s dead.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Mateo, did you have anything to do with his death?”

  Mateo glared. “What kind of question is that? You know I don’t dirty my hands in that way.”

  “Well, that DEA agent is making it her mission to snoop around in our records. She’s pulling all our customs manifests and going over our shipments with a fine-tooth comb.”

  Mateo didn’t look as worried as he should. “We’re a pharmaceutical company. We traffic in drugs. It’s what we do.”

  “Not the drugs that will show up on some of those manifests and you know it.”

  “Do you really think that cop is going to know the difference?” Mateo asked, bored. “Sister, you need to relax. Go get a facial or a massage. All this tension is murder on your frown lines.”

  “Mateo, will you focus for a minute?” she demanded, becoming more frustrated by her brother’s lack of concern for the situation. “We could lose everything if they find out.”

  “They won’t.”

  “I don’t have your confidence.”

  “And you never did,” Mateo responded with an airy wave of his hand. “But trust in me that this will all blow over. Now, I have a date with a cute mariachi player. Such adorable behinds. All that shake, shake, shake. I love it!”

  Selena watched as Mateo breezed out without a care in the world and she wanted to shake him until his fillings popped out.

  If her brother ended up ruining this deal, she would put him in the ground herself.

  * * *

  Poppy, packed up for the night, was startled by Angelo as she was leaving backstage.

  The bar was shut down and everyone had pretty much gone home except Angelo and the janitor.

  “You’re very talented,” he said, making conversation. “A natural.”

  “Thank you,” she said, finding it odd that Angelo was approaching her after hours. “Where’s Brandi tonight?”

  “She called in sick.” He gestured to the bar. “Have a drink with me.”

  Poppy hesitated for a brief moment, but then realized she was only hesitating because of what Shaine might say. “I could use a drink after tonight’s set,” she said with a smile.

  Shaine wasn’t there tonight, having gone to Grind to check out some leads there on his night off.

  “What’s your poison?” he asked, going behind the bar. “Anything you want.”

  “Surprise me.”

  His brow rose as his mouth curved. “A girl who craves adventure...my kind of girl,” he said, selecting the finest whiskey in the bar. He poured a shot. “Lagavulin, twenty-one-year-old Special Release, 2012...goes for $624 a bottle.”

  Poppy hesitated, her eyes widening. “I don’t know if I can afford a shot of this stuff.”

  Angelo smiled and pushed it toward her. “On the house.”

  “Well, in that case...” She took a tentative sip. “Not bad.”

  He laughed. “I should hope so. We charge out the nose for this stuff.”

  “So what’s the real reason you’ve asked me, after hours, for a drink?” she asked coyly. “I mean, everyone knows that you and Brandi are a thing and I sure as hell don’t want to end up on her shit list.”

  Angelo’s jaw flexed with annoyance. “I can see I need to have a talk with Brandi and set her straight on our arrangement.”

  “And what arrangement would that be?”

  “Whatever I want it to be.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a very good deal for her.”

  “She gets what she needs.”

  Poppy swallowed her disgust. Angelo was slimy—in a slick, suave and ultimately untrustworthy way—and she couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to be with him. But he seemed a hot commodity around the party scene, which is why Brandi held on so tightly.

  But Poppy was playing a game she meant to win.

  “It’s just not the same without Capri,” she said, trying to draw the conversation to something that might be useful. “She was like a tiny bubble of sunshine with all that blond hair and those blue eyes. I swear she was a pixie or something.”

  “Yeah, she was a cute kid,” Angelo agreed quickly, but moved on just as swiftly. “So where did you learn to dance?”

  “Mrs. Danner’s Dance Class for Young Ladies,” she said, finishing her whiskey. “Classical ballet, jazz and tap.”

  “That don’t look like ballet up there,” he teased, and she pretended to blush. “But I like it.”

  “Don’t tell Raquel but I borrowed some of her moves.”

  Angelo leaned forward to whisper, “You do them better.”

  Oh, he was a sweet talker, but Poppy saw right through him.

  Men like Angelo said and did whatever they had to do to get a women in bed. They’d flatter, cajole, manipulate and coerce anyone weak enough to buy into their game.

  Poppy had always been able to see through men like Angelo, even before she joined the academy.

  High school had been interesting.

  “So tell me...what was that stuff you gave us that night at the party? Bliss? I’ve never heard of it but it was wild and I would love to try some more.”

  “Soon,” Angelo said. “But it’s in short supply right now. Hot commodity, you know. As soon as I get word of a new shipment, I’ll be sure to let you know. Maybe we can take it together. I can show you a few things.”

  “Maybe so,” Poppy said with a flirty smile. “Or maybe I’ll show you a few things.” Like how my handcuffs work. It still hurt to think that Capri had slept with this pig and he couldn’t even stand to hear her name. Was it guilt? Or was he that shallow and self-centered that he didn’t really care about a dead girl who was too young to be shaking her ass at this club?

  Angelo knuckled her cheek softly. “Hey, gorgeous, where’d you go just now?” he asked.

  She forced herself not to pull away. “Sorry, I’m just thinking of Capri. I miss her,” she apologized, taking secret pleasure in knowing that the subject of Capri made Angelo uncomfortable. “I didn’t know her long but she really burrowed into my heart. She was like the little sister I never had.”

  “Yeah, rough thing, her dying and all. But everything happ
ens for a reason, right?”

  That trite statement clanged like a discordant bell inside her, and she immediately thought of Shaine and how he’d hated when people would offer up that cliché when his kid brother was killed.

  She wanted to shout, No, things don’t happen for a reason—sometimes they happen randomly because people are shitty to one another, but she couldn’t exactly let that fly from her mouth.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” she murmured, forcing a yawn. “That whiskey just took what little energy I had left. I’m going to cut out. Thanks for the drink.”

  “Do you need a ride home?” he asked.

  “No, I have my car,” Poppy answered, adding, “It’s not as fancy as your car, but it gets me from point A to point B.”

  “So humble. You deserve so much better, baby. You’re the kind of woman who deserves to be sitting in a Porsche. All you have to do is ask and I’ll make it happen.”

  Like you made it happen for Capri? She shouldered her pack, flashing a smart-ass grin. “What can I say?” she said as she walked toward the door. “I like to do things the hard way.”

  “I can appreciate that. But trust me, baby-girl, once you get a taste of prime rib, you never go back to bologna.”

  Poppy let herself out of the club and walked into the salty night air, glad to be free of Angelo and the threat of his touch.

  It was bad enough he touched her cheek.

  If you have to sleep with him to get information, you will do it.

  The stern voice was a reminder that she was here to do a job, and Angelo was a primary suspect on the biggest case of her life.

  If it meant doing the dirty with the dirty scumbag—she swallowed the immediate bile that rose in her throat—then she’d do exactly that.

  And then, afterward, she’d scrub her damn skin off.

  If only she could also find some way to bleach the memories that would remain...

  CHAPTER 19

  Shaine walked into Grind, the music blaring, similar to Lit, and saw that the DJ spinning tracks was the same DJ at the warehouse party as well as the one who’d given Capri the Bliss.

  He ordered a drink and milled around, seemingly on the prowl, but he was really covertly watching DJ Raven. The guy was a spectacle with his artificial, pale blue eyes and wild peacock hair. And when he began gyrating his hips in time to the beat, Shaine suspected that he might be on Bliss, as well.