by Mandy Baxter
“Yeah, mine too.” Damien swore, the way Gates was going to town on that pen cap, he was going to be picking bits of plastic from his teeth for weeks. “He was more than likely dating Martin’s sister at the time, and her continued involvement with Cavello indicates that they’ve had a working relationship with him for a while now. But the last time Martin was picked up, he was still just peddling weed. The Bandit task force said that the synthetic only showed up on the streets a few months ago.”
“About the time Lightfoot’s organization pulled out of Oregon.”
Gates examined his pen and threw it in the trash. Thank God. That Bic ballpoint was no doubt loaded with germs. “Yep. But here’s where I’m lost. How did Cavello get hooked up with Lightfoot in the first place? We know now that he’s distributing Stardust, and we know how he’s getting it—good work, by the way—but there has to be something or someone to connect the two. Cavello was small-time before this. I don’t think he would’ve had the sort of rep to garner Lightfoot’s attention.”
“True.” Damien had been racking his brain for a couple of weeks, searching for that very connection. “But maybe that’s the point. Lightfoot knows we’re looking for him. High rollers and well-known dealers would bring too much heat. Someone like Cavello—small-time, expendable, who asks very few questions and does what he’s told—would be the perfect distributor. What does Cavello care where Lightfoot is and what he does, as long as he’s getting a fat paycheck?”
Ryan dragged a hand through his hair. “If that’s the case, our chances of getting our hands on Lightfoot through Cavello are slim.”
Damien swiveled in his chair. “I disagree.”
“Evans, come take a look at this.” Chief Deputy Callihan stepped up to the cubicle Damien was working from, his expression pinched.
He exchanged a look with Gates, who was equally nonplussed. “Sure,” he remarked as he pushed himself up from the chair. “What’s up?”
Ryan joined them and they followed Callihan to the hallway lined with windows that looked out over the parking lot of the federal courthouse building. Sitting in the parking lot was an older model gold Toyota 4Runner. “She’s been sitting down there in her car for the past half hour. Security called up because it seemed suspicious. How would you like to handle this?”
Damien swallowed down the groan that rose in his throat. Confronting Tabitha here could potentially blow his cover, and likewise, how would she react to finding out that the guy she’d been fooling around with wasn’t what he seemed? He had a feeling that she wouldn’t appreciate being lied to. Fuck.
“What’s she been doing down there?” Not that he thought she was dangerous or even erratic. But why in the hell was she here?
“According to security, just sitting in her car. She told the guard at the security gate that she had an appointment, but I asked around and she hasn’t contacted anyone here.”
Damien continued to stare down at the parking lot, his brain working a mile a minute as one scenario after another played out in his mind. The door of the Toyota opened and Damien watched from the fourth-story window as Tabitha got out of the car and paced from the hood to the back bumper, back and forth, back and forth.
“Is she talking to herself?”
Damien glanced over at Gates before turning his attention back to Tabitha. It did appear as though she was coaching herself, her palms open, forearms stretched in front of her and gesturing as she paced.
“Looks like it,” Callihan chimed in. “Is she unstable, Evans? Should we have someone go down there and get her?”
Whatever internal debate she had going on, Damien knew that instability wasn’t an issue. “Send Gates to talk to her.” No way was he about to blow his cover now. “But don’t shake her down.”
“So you’re saying you want me to pour on the charm?”
Damien’s eyes narrowed as he took in the shit-eating grin on Ryan’s face. The last thing he wanted was to watch from the fourth-floor window as the suave deputy flirted with Tabitha. “I’m saying that you should go down there and feel her out.” Dude, wrong choice of words. “See if you can get her to tell you what she’s doing here. We’ll decide what to do from there.”
Ryan looked to his superior and Callihan replied, “It’s his show, Gates. Go ahead.”
Damien waited with his face plastered to the window, glad that the mirrored exterior surface wouldn’t rat him out to Tabitha. The only thing that would make him look more pathetic at this point was if his palms were splayed on the glass, the surface fogging from his breath. A façade of calm indifference was tough to maintain when all he could think about was Tabitha’s reaction if she knew he’d lied to her about who he really was. Their lunch on Sunday was the best date Damien had been on in years, and for the past few days he’d been counting down the hours until he returned to the IdaHaven, just so he’d have an excuse to see her again. When had selling drugs become an acceptable excuse to see a woman? Jesus.
“You don’t think your cover is compromised? If it is, we might have to take her into custody,” Callihan remarked. “Are you ready for that?”
Of course the chief deputy was speaking in regards to Damien’s investigation, but all he could think of was the hurt that she’d suffer if they arrested her. “An arrest might be a little overboard. But if I’m compromised—which I don’t think is possible—it might be a good idea to take her into custody.”
“You want to try and flip her?”
Honestly, Damien doubted it would be too hard, considering her opinion of Joey and what he did. “Maybe. We’ll wait to see what Ryan finds out first.”
From the corner of his eye, Damien caught sight of the deputy as he emerged from the building and crossed the parking lot. Tabitha continued to pace until Gates got within earshot. She froze midstep and turned to face him.
Damien’s breath stalled in his chest as Ryan approached Tabitha. Goddamn it, he wished he knew what was going on down there.
This is a mistake. A huge, enormous, gigantic mistake.
Tabitha still didn’t know what she was doing standing in the middle of the parking lot of the courthouse building. Why she thought the U.S. Marshals would be less intimidating than the FBI was a mystery. She was already terrified, and she hadn’t even made it through the front door yet. It’s not like she’d never been in this position before. But her past decisions had been made in an effort to protect Seth. And Joey’s threats had made it clear that any attempt to protect her brother now would only land Seth in jail. These guys were feds. If this didn’t go the way she hoped it would, her brother wouldn’t end up in a county jail or state pen. He’d be looking at federal prison time. It was a risk she didn’t think she could take.
“Hi. I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Ryan Gates. Can I help you with something?”
She practically jumped out of her skin when the marshal approached her. She wasn’t ready to talk. Had no idea what to say. There was still too much to consider and it wasn’t just her own hide she was eager to protect; she had to think about Seth as well.
Cute, clean-cut, with short dark hair, moss-green eyes, and a friendly, open smile, Deputy Ryan Gates was the sort of guy that Lila would sell her soul to climb into bed with. Too bad all Tabitha could think about was a bulky, muscled body, tousled hair, tattoos, and the most intriguing golden eyes she could imagine. What would happen to Damien if she came clean to the marshals? She couldn’t ruin his life just to protect Seth. Could she?
“Miss . . . ?”
“Oh, um . . . Lila. Lila Simmons.” Oops. Way to panic, you idiot! She’d already given her license to the guy at the security checkpoint. If Deputy Gates decided to follow up, she’d be caught in the lie and she might be down a best friend by tomorrow. Too late to worry about it now, she supposed. If she fessed up she’d only come across as crazy. Or guilty. Neither prospect was all that appealing.
Deputy Gates quirked a brow as though he knew she wasn’t telling the truth. Crap! Maybe he’d already checked with the guy ma
nning the check-in. In which case, she was screwed. “With as much security as we have around here, it can make everyone a little nervous when anyone hangs out in the parking lot for a half hour. Would you like to come up to my office, maybe talk about what brought you here today?”
Tabitha looked down at her feet and wished that the parking lot would split open and swallow her. She thought she could do this when she’d pulled up to the building. Thought she was brave enough to risk the consequences. But now that she’d had time to mull over her decision, she just couldn’t do it. “Oh no, that’s not necessary,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I, um—I wanted to . . .” What? What could she say that would be a passable excuse for being there? “I’ve been thinking about a career in law enforcement.” If there was a desk nearby, this would definitely be a moment to introduce her forehead to it. “Maybe something federal. But just thinking about the training made me break out into a sweat.” Another nervous laugh. “I’m obviously not ready.”
Deputy Gates’s green eyes darkened with disappointment. Had he been expecting a different response? Maybe people showed up in their parking lot to confess to criminal activity on a daily basis. “Why don’t you come up anyway?” His soft, charming smile must have made the girls—and probably some of the boys—in the office giddy. “I can give you the tour, show you our offices, and maybe give you a little background on what we do. We might not be so scary if you see for yourself that the U.S. Marshals Service is staffed with some pretty damned good people.”
She sensed that he was speaking past the cover story she’d given him, to Tabitha Martin, woman on the edge. It unnerved her to think that he could see through the pretense to the fear and trepidation she was working so hard to disguise. If she didn’t get the hell out of there soon, she’d crack for sure. “I can’t today. I spent too much time trying to work up the courage to go inside.” At least that little bit wasn’t a lie. “I’ll be late for work if I stick around now. But maybe I could schedule an appointment to come back some other time?”
“Sure.” Deputy Gates gave her a sad smile as he fished a business card from his pocket. He held it out to her and she took it between shaking fingers. “Here’s my card. The number for my personal extension is listed at the bottom. Call me anytime. I’d love to talk to you—about anything.”
Panic surged as adrenaline pooled in Tabitha’s limbs. Either Gates was a mind reader or he knew she was nothing more than a cowardly liar. She swore he had her number and was just waiting for her to give it up. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
Without another word, she climbed into her car and forced the key into the ignition. It took a couple of tries, but the engine finally turned over and she fought the urge to put the pedal to the metal and tear out of there, squealing tires and all. Instead, she gave him a bright smile and waved as she backed out of the parking space and pulled out of the parking lot. It was only after she was past the security gate that she allowed a tear to trickle down her cheek.
God, Tabitha. You are such a coward.
“Hey, Tabs. How was your day?”
When she woke up this morning, Tabitha never thought that her day would take a downward spiral that crashed and burned and left no survivors. But damn, had it ever. “What are you drinking?”
Seth held up the bottle of Blue Moon IPA and she took it from his grasp. “Hey! I just opened that.”
Today had definitely been a three-beer day, but she’d settle for this one. Tabitha brought the bottle to her lips despite her brother’s protest and drained half of it in a couple of swallows. “I swear, if I have to fish one more turd out of the swimming pool, I’m going to go postal. Toddlers and swimming pools don’t mix.”
Seth laughed with all of the amusement of a twelve-year-old. “That’s gross.”
“It’s beyond gross.” Tabitha plopped down on the couch beside her brother and propped her feet up on the coffee table. “I’m so sick of bitchy, demanding guests, of smiling and nodding when I want to throttle someone. I’m tired of fishing disgusting things out of the pool and dealing with trashed rooms that I don’t blame the housekeeping staff for not wanting to clean.”
Seth let out a deep sigh and averted his gaze. “You should quit. I’m working full-time. I’ll cover rent, groceries, and utilities. You can focus on school and take a break.”
She cut him a look that said, Yeah. Right. “That’s not possible, Seth, and you know it.”
“How do we even know that Joey will do anything? I mean, at this point, it’s just as risky for him as it is for me. If he turns me in to Boise PD, they could arrest him, too. I don’t think he’ll talk. He’s bluffing and holding it over your head to keep his cushy gig at the hotel going.”
“What?” She’d never told Seth about the threats Joey had made. “Seth, I—”
“Come on, Tabs. I’m not an idiot. Give me a little credit here. I know that he’s making you set him up with rooms at the hotel. No way would you help him if he wasn’t holding me over your head.”
She hadn’t wanted him to find out. Didn’t want to put that guilt on him. But one thing her brother wasn’t was stupid, and Seth did have a point. Tabitha didn’t want to push her luck or take unnecessary chances at this point. “I know you’re not an idiot, Seth. I was just trying to protect you. But Joey isn’t stupid, either. I’m sure he’s covered his bases. And if Boise PD ever does arrest him, he’ll turn State’s evidence like he said and put it all on you. I’m not quitting my job on a hunch that he’s bluffing. I can suck it up. This can’t go on forever.”
“But I didn’t do anything,” Seth remarked. “Not really.”
“No. You only hooked him up with the guy who’s supplying that shit he’s selling.” Tabitha couldn’t help the accusing tone of her voice. She’d done everything in her power—things that weighed her down with guilt—to make sure that she and Seth could make a clean break from their past. Instead, Seth had kept in contact with the one man Tabitha couldn’t seem to get him away from. The man who’d enabled her parents’ bad habits and effectively ruined her and Seth’s lives. While Tabitha thought she’d made the right decisions, done what she had to do to get Seth out of the life, he’d been going behind her back, working for the most dangerous man they’d ever known. While she and Joey were dating, Seth had introduced him to their parents’ longtime friend. Joey promised Seth big-time rewards for the connection, but the only reward he’d given was a warning to Tabitha that if she didn’t play ball, he’d give the cops something incriminating on Seth. He was on his second strike and still on probation. Any mark against him at this point would be bad. Worse than bad.
“Maybe you should let me take my chances.” Seth had done a lot of growing up over the past six months. A year ago, he wouldn’t have cared what Tabitha had to do to get him out of a bind.
“And let you go to prison? Seth, if they find anything to charge you with, you won’t be spending a few months in the Ada County Jail. There will be federal charges.”
“Hey, at least I’d get three squares a day.” She glared at his joking tone. “Seriously, this is something you should think about. I don’t want you to have to deal with Joey and his bullshit. You need a clean break, Tabs.”
She’d been thinking about it. For weeks. How many times had she looked at the FBI’s phone number, her fingers hovering over the keypad of her phone? Searched the Boise PD’s Bandit anti-narcotics web page? Sat in the freaking parking lot of the U.S. Marshals Service’s home base? She’d thought about it and thought about it until her freaking brain throbbed from all of the thinking. And now, she didn’t just have Seth to worry about, but Damien as well.
For shit’s sake, Tabitha. What more can you do to screw up your life?
Chapter Twelve
After talking to Gates and getting the lowdown on Tabitha’s visit to the courthouse, Damien decided it would be best to give her a little space. But now that Friday night had rolled around once again, he found himself bouncing back and forth between excitement and w
orry. A combination he rarely felt and didn’t like at all.
He’d never been so anxious to see someone, and at the same time worried over what would happen when he did. As he unloaded the heavy suitcase full of Stardust and his duffel from the trunk of his Shelby, he thought about putting a phone call in to Dr. Meyers. Because if ever he needed his head shrunk, it was right fucking now.
As he hauled his stuff through the lobby, a scowl curled his lips as he recognized the guy who worked nights—and not Tabitha—at the front desk.
“She’s off tonight.”
Damien checked the guy’s name tag—Dave—as he typed something on the keyboard. “Who?”
Dave gave him a wry smile. “Tabitha. I got the feeling that I wasn’t who you were expecting to see behind the desk.”
Jesus, was it that obvious? Damien spent his life fooling hardened criminals into believing that he was one of them and he couldn’t even hide his infatuation from an innocent desk clerk? He might as well turn in his badge now.
“But don’t worry. She told me you’d be in tonight and I’ve got your room all ready to go. Is your crew working on the roof over at the new Village complex in Meridian?”
Damien wasn’t at all familiar with the local landmarks or neighboring cities, though he’d heard some talk in passing about this place or that. It didn’t matter where he said he worked as long as he kept up the pretense that he worked for a roofing company and left it at that. “Uh, yeah. We’ll be on and off the project for at least another month or so.”
Dave continued to make small talk, but Damien couldn’t manage more than a grunt or two in response. His brain was buzzing, too full of Tabitha. Where was she? What was she doing? Had she discovered what he was really doing by working for Joey?
“Here’s your key,” Dave said, sliding the little paper envelope closer to Damien’s hand. How long had he been zoned out? Real smooth. “Can I help you with anything else this evening?”
