Dang. This Bowie guy might not be the most welcoming sort, but he certainly did his homework.
Verity lifted her head as the scent of fresh coffee made its way over to her. On the table by the door, she saw three to go cups with steam still rising from the top.
“Are those for us?” she asked.
Bowie gave a terse nod. “I figured you’d be tagging along.”
“Well, thank you,” Verity said, suddenly feeling a little better. Anyone who went on early morning coffee runs couldn’t be all bad. That was a fact.
She went over, picked up a cup and sat down in one of the chairs.
"So, Bowie, you work with Jake at Macmillan Security,” she said, hoping that a little conversation would help break the ice.
“I do,” he said, flatly. “And you're Roman Green's sister.”
Verity froze, the cup halfway to her mouth.
So that's what this was all about. She should have known.
“Bowie.” Jake’s voice practically dripped with warning.
Verity raised her hand to stop him. She didn’t need Jake to take on this battle for her. It was as if something inside her had snapped. She’d been through too much to allow someone to talk to her like that. Especially someone who was supposed to be a friend.
She put down her coffee and met Bowie’s gaze without flinching this time.
“I am,” she admitted without a hint of shame. “Tell me, Mr. Tamatoa, do you have any brothers or sisters?"
Bowie narrowed his eyes. “No.”
“An only child. How surprising.” Verity raised her brows in mock amazement. “But it explains your ignorance. You have no idea how lucky you are to only have your own sins and accomplishments to answer for.”
Bowie blinked.
“You’ve got a backbone,” he said.
“Does that annoy you?” she asked.
Bowie shook his head, his expression staying flat. “Surprises me is all.”
Well that made two of them. Cause the truth was it was certainly surprising the hell out of her. She had no idea where this sudden streak of courage was coming from.
“Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” Jake said, walking over to the array of paperwork that Bowie had assembled on the bed, “what do you say we figure out how to bring Silas down?”
“Easier said than done,” Bowie grumbled as he turned away from glaring at Verity long enough to join Jake. “You two have kicked one hell of a hornet’s nest.”
“What have you uncovered?” Jake asked.
“Nothing surprising,” Bowie said. “Mason and Charlie dug up what they could on Silas, but everything just confirmed what you already feared.”
“So, it is heroin?” Jake said, his face falling.
“Looks that way,” Bowie said. “It appears that he has been smuggling the raw materials back into the country through the nearby Air Force base and partnering with the Norteños for processing and distribution. I reached out to a contact in the DEA, and she confirmed that they’ve had their eye on him for a while now.”
Jake let out a long sigh. “But let me guess. They haven’t been able to prove anything.”
“Same old story,” Bowie said. “Silas walks away scot free.”
“But surely not this time,” Verity spoke up. “The people at that farmhouse shot at us. Surely that has to be good enough to get a search warrant.”
Bowie lifted his eyes to meet her gaze, but his hard expression didn’t change.
“Under any other circumstances, I’m sure it would be,” he said. “But in order for us to secure one you’d have to tell that story to the police, and right now, with all the charges you’re facing, I’m doubtful they’ll listen to a word you say.”
“But I have the truth on my side,” she tried. “They’d have to listen to me.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” Jake said with a shake of his head.
“Silas has already won that battle,” Bowie added. “He’s rendered you useless. He’s forced you into hiding. Silenced you. Even if you are caught, he’ll have plenty of time to move his operations before the authorities get around to checking into your story.”
Verity swallowed hard.
Crap. When he put it that way, everything sounded so…futile.
But she refused to give in to such defeatist thoughts.
“Then you could tell them, Jake,” she tried. “You were there. You saw everything. And the FBI isn’t looking for you.”
“Yet,” he said, slowly shaking his head. “If I go in and give a statement, the cops are going to put the pieces together pretty quick. They’ll figure out I was there with you.”
“And they’ll arrest you as an accessory,” she finished for him. “I can’t ask you to get in that kind of trouble for me.”
“I don’t care about that,” Jake said. “But if I go to jail, then I’m not here to protect you, and that’s not an option.”
Verity didn’t miss the twitch in Bowie’s jaw at his friend’s answer.
That was it. There was definitely something weird going on between these two—something that had nothing to do with her or her brother. Something that she would have to figure out later.
Right now, she had other—more important—things to deal with.
“There has to be another way,” she said, her voice growing more passionate with every word. “This Silas guy is smuggling art and pushing poison.”
“And your brother is helping him do it,” Bowie said, piercing her with a sharp look.
“And I’m here trying to stop him,” she countered.
“Is that what you’re doing?” Bowie taunted. “Because as far as I can tell all you’ve done is make things more complicated.”
Verity felt the hair on the back of her neck bristle. That was it. She was sick of being pushed.
“Seriously?” she said, shooting up from her seat. “I’ve been shot at. My career is in tatters. I’m wanted by the FBI. And you’re the one throwing a tantrum because there’s a chance you’ll have to work through the weekend?”
Bowie’s lips tightened into a hard line. He squared his shoulders, pulling himself up to his full, impressive height. He didn’t look any kind of happy to be talked to like that.
On any other day, Verity would have crapped her pants at the sight. But today was not shaping up to be just another day.
Verity narrowed her eyes, waiting for Bowie to hurl his next insult, but Jake stepped in between them before Bowie could open his mouth.
“Stop,” Jake said. His voice was ice cold. His hands were curled into fists at his side. “Stop, or I promise you that things are about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.”
Bowie’s stare slid from her to Jake. Verity held her breath as the two men glowered at each other. Jake might have been a couple of inches shorter than Bowie, but he didn’t seem at all intimidated by the man’s size. Maybe if Verity was as good with her fists as Jake was she wouldn’t be either.
Bowie didn’t seem to want to test his friend. After a long moment, he backed down, continuing like nothing had happened.
“We don’t need to throw in the towel just yet,” Bowie said. “I’ve spoken to my DEA contact, and she says she’s willing to go to a judge if I can get her evidence that hasn’t been sullied by a fugitive.”
Verity rolled her eyes at sullied, but in the interest of getting out of Bowie’s room, she kept her mouth shut.
“And how do you plan on getting that?” she asked.
“By going out to Silas’ compound and getting it for her myself.”
Verity shook her head. “You can’t go out there by yourself.”
“And why not?” Bowie asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Because it’s too dangerous,” she answered. “We nearly got killed just driving by the place. You go out there alone, and they’ll kill you for sure.”
The guy might be a jerk but that didn’t mean that Verity wanted to see him turned into a block of Swiss cheese.
“Bowi
e won’t be going alone,” Jake said. “I’ll back him up.”
Verity felt the blood drain from her face.
“Why you?” she asked. “Why not this DEA friend of his?”
“Because we can’t directly involve her yet,” Bowie said. “She’s a fed, and if she finds out your exact location, she’s obligated to share that information with the FBI. Like I said, it’s complicated.”
“It’s okay, Verity,” Jake said, stepping around the bed toward her.
“Like hell it is,” she said, wrapping her arms around him the moment he got close enough. “They tried to kill you yesterday.”
Jake held her tight against his chest.
“But today is different,” he said. “Now I know the lay of the land. I know what we’re walking into. We’re not going out there to engage, just to do some reconnaissance. No one is going to get hurt. No one will even know that we were there.”
She turned her head up to look him in the eye. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because this is what I do,” he answered. “Trust me, Verity. I’ll come back. I promise.”
He tilted his head down and pressed his lips to her forehead.
It was a sweet moment. And one that was utterly destroyed a moment later, when Bowie cleared his throat.
“If we’re going to do this, we need to leave now,” he said.
“Bowie’s right.” Jake lifted his head. “Come on, Verity. I need to get my gear from the room. I’ll walk you back there.”
She didn’t want to, but Verity let her arms slide away from around his middle. She took a step back.
“You go ahead,” she said. “I still have a couple of questions about this DEA case. I’ll catch up in a second.”
Jake arched a brow. “Maybe it would be better if I stayed until you were done.”
Verity opened her mouth, ready to tell him everything was fine, but Bowie got there before she could.
“Don’t worry, Jake,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt your girlfriend.”
Jake slid his gaze between them for a second before heading for the door.
“Who said I was worried about her?” he asked as he disappeared outside.
Bowie crossed his arms in front of his chest the moment the door clicked shut, his massive arm muscles flexing and straining the integrity of his shirt. There was no doubt that the man could rip her in half if he wanted to, but Verity didn't flinch, and not just because she believed Bowie was good to his word and wasn’t going to hurt her.
But because she was done with being scared. It hadn’t served her in the past, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to do her any favors now.
“Well?” Bowie prompted when she didn’t start talking right away. “You had questions?”
Verity pulled her shoulders back as she met his hard gaze. “The truth is I was hoping we could take a second to try to clear the air between us.”
“I don’t see what good that would do,” he said. “I’m here to do a job, not throw a tea party.”
Verity’s spine stiffened, but she didn’t back down. “You don’t like me, do you, Mr. Tamatoa?”
“No, I don’t, Miss Green,” he said, lifting his chin a notch.
“Just because I’m Roman’s sister?”
“No,” he said, “because I don’t like the way you’re taking advantage of my friend.”
“I am not taking advan—”
“Listen lady, I know you've been through some shit,” Bowie cut her off. “But so has Jake. He’s been knocked down harder than you can imagine, and he’s just now getting back up on his feet. The last thing he needs is some damsel in distress draping herself across him and dragging him right back down again.”
Verity flinched. Her jaw fell open as if she’d been smacked across the face.
A damsel in distress?
Sure, she’d sought out his help, but that was Jake’s job. He protected people. He fought for those that couldn’t do it on their own.
And as for the draping…well, as far as she could remember that was an activity that took two people.
Verity’s hands clenched into fists at her side as her indignation started to grow.
“You’re the last person who gets to lecture me on what Jake needs,” she said. “You and the rest of his friends.”
“Excuse me?” Bowie's eyes narrowed. Verity had the feeling that nobody talked back to him much. At least, not for very long.
“Where the hell were you when he was blaming himself for his friends getting hurt?” she asked boldly. “Where were you when he was buried underneath all that pain and shame? Where were any of you when he couldn’t take it anymore and ran away?”
“You don't know what you're talking about,” Bowie growled.
Verity didn't care. She took a step closer.
“Do you know where I found him?” she asked. “Alone and trying to drown his pain in some shitty roadside bar in the middle of nowhere. Where the hell were you then? Where were any of his friends?”
Bowie stared daggers down at her. “I’d shut your mouth, if I were you.”
“Of course you would,” Verity shot back. “I don’t know what the hell is going on between you and Jake, but it’s obvious that whatever it is you’d rather keep silent and sweep it under the rug than deal with it.”
Bowie didn’t say a word. She didn’t think he could if he wanted to. The line of his mouth was so tight that his lips had practically disappeared. His whole body was vibrating with rage.
Good. The man deserved a little taste of his own medicine.
Not that she wanted to push him too far. She didn’t believe that he’d lash out and actually hurt her, but, on the other hand, she didn’t think it was a good idea to poke a tiger with a stick…not any more than she already had.
Besides, she’d said enough.
Verity started for the door, but swiveled around as her hand wrapped around the knob.
Maybe just one more thing.
“At least you were right about something. Our lives are all kinds of screwed up right now, but Jake’s been the only person willing to stand by my side.” Verity opened the door, letting the warm sunshine pour in. “And so far as I can tell, I’ve been the only one to do the same for him.”
Chapter Ten
Verity rubbed her hands back and forth against each other as she paced the length of her motel room. She’d been treading the same path for the last half hour—from the window to the edge of the carpet near the bathroom, a quick swivel on her heel and back again. Every third or fourth trip she’d flip back the drape, just to make sure she hadn’t somehow missed the sound of Jake's truck pulling into the parking lot.
Of course, she knew he wasn’t going to be there. It had taken the two of them a little over half an hour to drive out to the farmhouse yesterday. It would take the same amount for the return trip. And Verity couldn’t even begin to guess how long recon took. Hell, she wasn’t even sure what it entailed. Chances were she couldn’t expect the guys until mid-afternoon…at the very least.
There was no way she was going to make it through all those hours just by wearing holes in the carpet.
But what else could she do?
It was just like Bowie had said. She was useless.
Verity stopped in her tracks.
Sudden anger surged through her at the realization. Not at Roman or Silas for putting her in this situation. Not at Bowie for pointing it out. But at herself for believing it.
From the moment that she’d opened her brother’s letter, Verity had been many things—determined, terrified, embarrassed—but the one thing she’d refused to be was useless.
And she wasn’t about to start now.
She might have blown her career—hell, she may have ruined her whole life—but that didn’t mean she had to give up. So what if she didn’t have any contacts at the DEA or know the first thing about bringing down an intricate drug cartel?
She didn’t come out here to cower in a hovel. She’d come out here to save s
ome art. And that was just what she intended to do.
Just as soon as she figured out a way to do it.
Verity drew in a deep breath as she assessed her situation. She was stuck in a motel room, cut off from the outside world. Hell, she didn’t even have a phone.
No, wait. That wasn’t exactly true. She might not be able to switch on her cell, but there was still the old school phone sitting on the nightstand between the beds. There wasn’t any reason she couldn’t use that one…if only she had someone to call.
Jake had made it clear that she couldn’t call Cheryl or anyone else at the University. Even if their phones weren’t being monitored, she couldn’t trust them not to go straight to the FBI. Besides, everyone she knew was an academic. They might be geniuses when it came to history and authentication, but what she needed right now was a different kind of expertise.
The kind that could track a man like Jake for weeks without him knowing.
Verity spun on her heel and went for her bag. She found the pants she was wearing the day she’d landed in California and dug into the back pocket. Charlie’s card was still there.
She flipped it over and stared down at where the woman had written her private cell number.
Just in case you find yourself in any trouble, she’d said.
Well, this certainly qualified.
Jake had said that Charlie could do all sorts of amazing things with a computer. It looked like it was time to put that to the test.
Verity went over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Drawing in a deep breath, she picked up the heavy receiver and dialed the numbers.
It rang once on the other end. Twice. Three times. Verity was beginning to fear that it was going to go to voice mail when someone picked up.
“This is Charlie,” a cheery voice said.
“Hey, Charlie. This is Verity Green,” she said, trying not to sputter. It didn’t help that there was a long pause on the other end. “We met a few days ago at your office. You told me where I could find—”
Jake: The Sinner Saints #3 Page 12
