by Jordan Dane
Alexa saw the pained look on Garrett’s face and knew there was more to this story than what he’d told them.
“That’s horrible, but why did he call you?” she pressed, moving close enough to look him directly in the eye.
“Because I owe him. I was the one who’d ordered the protection detail on his wife and little girl. His family was killed on my watch.”
Alexa’s next breath caught in her throat. She’d seen the same look of guilt on Garrett’s face before. And a face from her past emerged from the shadows of her mind. Green eyes she’d seen not long ago, eyes filled with a never-ending sadness that had haunted her since she’d last seen him.
“I know this story,” she whispered, not completely sure she had spoken aloud.
“Yeah, you do. And that’s why you weren’t asked to come along, Alexa. You’re too close to this.”
“Would someone please clue me in?” Hank asked.
“Jackson Kinkaid is the guy inside.” Alexa felt numb. Saying Kinkaid’s name made it all real. “He’s on a suicide mission to kill the man who murdered his wife and child. And damn it, Garrett, you should’ve told me.”
“Why? So you could watch him die? You’re as crazy as he is, Alexa.”
“I could’ve talked to him, made him listen to reason. Getting hijacked by Pérez, that’s a one-way trip.”
“You know how Kinkaid operates. He didn’t give me any choice. By the time I got our team deployed, he was in the thick of it, with no way to back out. The guy doesn’t know how to back down. I’ve known him longer than you have. He’s been living for this. In his mind, it’s all he has left.”
Kinkaid wasn’t with the Sentinels now, but he used to be. And after what had happened to his family while he had worked for their organization, she figured Garrett had authorized the mission based on the obligation he felt toward a man who had suffered as much as Kinkaid had.
“I can understand going after Pérez if the guy killed his wife and kid, but how do we know what’s going on in there?”
“We have a burst transmitter on him, embedded under his skin,” Hank told her.
“Don’t tell me. Let me guess,” she interrupted. “That was his idea, right?” When she looked at Garrett, all he did was nod and shrug.
“Unbelievable.”
“That transmitter has been sending us his vitals, as well as his location, so we can track him via satellite,” Hank continued. “I’m in charge of the ground team, and we’re located right outside the compound, ready to go in once we get the green light. And as for his vitals? The medical doctor on our team thinks Kinkaid is being tortured.”
“Tortured? What for? If they knew who he was, Pérez would just have him killed. I’m not arguing for that, mind you, but killing him would tie up a very big loose end. What am I missing?” she asked.
“That’s just it. He got abducted when they thought he was someone else. And that’s who they think they’re interrogating, a bigger fish in their eyes.”
“Oh, yeah. Who?”
“Me,” Garrett said. “The Pérez drug cartel, they think they have me.”
Shoreview Motel
La Pointe, Wisconsin
After the surreal trip she’d taken down a shadowy memory lane with Chief Cook at the crime scene earlier, Jessie was desperate for anything that closely resembled normal. And the chief’s sudden change of heart, about wanting her help, had left her feeling more than a little lost.
She took a hot shower, got ready for bed, and made a call to Seth. He’d become her life preserver in the turbulent sea of her past. He steadied her and made her feel safe. With Harper, she had a shot at “normal,” at least a taste of it.
When he answered her call on the second ring, she simply said, “Hey, it’s me.”
Jessie heard a soft rustle and knew he was in bed, too.
“Hey, you,” he said. “What are you wearing?”
Jessie couldn’t help it. She had to grin.
“Nothing but a smile. And you?”
“I’m wearing . . . Floyd, actually. He’s such a bed hog.”
“What did he do today? I could use a good Floyd story. And I know you’ve got one.”
Harper told her that Floyd had learned how to open doors by standing up and flipping levers with his paws.
“I’ve got a reason for telling you this,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, the next time you’re alone in our bathroom and you feel a cold nose on your butt, you’ll know who it is.”
“A cold nose, huh? Why would I assume Floyd is the culprit?”
“Very funny.”
She listened to the sound of his soft chuckle as she pulled the comforter over her shoulders.
“Should I be worried?” he asked.
“About what?”
“You seem to have this thing for Floyd. Do I detect a little canine envy?”
“That’s it, Harper. You’ve nailed it.” She sighed and ran a hand through her wet hair. “Have I told you how nice it is to hear your voice?”
“Yeah, but feel free to remind me whenever you feel like it.”
After a comfortable silence, Seth had more to say.
“You’ve done a fine job avoiding what’s on your mind. So what is it?”
“Can’t fool you.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t. “This place, I know that I’ve been here before, but those memories are just beyond my reach, you know?”
“You met with that cop today. What did he have to say?”
“He kicked me out of town . . . twice. Is that what you mean?”
“Wow, that must be a record.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
She told him about the police chief taking her to the crime scene and how he’d later allowed her to see the murder book until he erected a wall and suggested she leave town . . . again.
“I’ve seen you in action. Guess I’m not too surprised.”
“Thanks a lot, pal. Whose side are you on?”
“Yours. You’ve got the gun. But what do you think happened? Sounds like you were BFFs until you mentioned that missing file.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”
Harper had the same take on the situation as she had. Great minds . . .
“You’re gonna see that Tanner woman, aren’t you?”
“You know me, Harper. Never leave a good turn unstoned.”
“Wait, I gotta write that down,” he said.
She heard him fumbling for a paper and pen, like he was seriously taking notes.
“Are you sure that Angela DeSalvo was the woman you remembered from your dreams?” he finally asked, taking a detour down Serious Lane. “Maybe seeing the dead woman’s face forced you to make that leap.”
What Harper had insinuated made sense, but Jessie felt sure that she had remembered Angela’s face on her own, without the help from an old crime-scene photo.
“No, I’m sure it was her.” She sighed. “I’ve never felt so . . . down. Seeing her face and thinking she was my mother was the only bright spot to my childhood, and now all that is gone.”
“I knew I should have gone with you. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”
“But I don’t feel alone, not when I can look forward to your abuse. I mean, your support.”
Even though she’d poked fun at him, hearing Seth’s voice on the phone made her feel like he was right in the room with her. Of course, nothing would replace the feel of his arms around her—or the many other things he did to make her feel warm and happy—but having him to talk to at the end of her day was the next best thing.
“So, with the chief taking back his key to the city, what’re you doing tomorrow?” he asked. “Is there something you need me to do?”
“I’m planning on making a royal pain of myself.”
“Stickin’ with your strengths. Always a good strategy.”
“And thanks for the offer to help. I may take you up on that.”
“For yo
u? Anytime.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said. “And give a big sloppy kiss to Floyd.”
“That’s an image I didn’t need.”
Even as lousy as she had felt that day, Harper could always make her laugh. And now he had an accomplice.
Guadalajara, Mexico
In the cramped motel room, Alexa listened to Garrett as he told what he knew about Jackson Kinkaid. And from the looks of Hank, he hadn’t had a clue about any of it. She guessed that since she and Hank both knew Kinkaid, Garrett had kept the truth from them and added a higher level of secrecy to the mission.
“Kinkaid lied to them and set up a pretty big ruse, pretending to be me,” Garrett told her. “He even made fake ID to back up his story.”
“What made him think they’d believe that?” Alexa asked. “And how would they know who you are? You keep a pretty low profile.”
“Actually, that was a thing of beauty.” Garrett almost smiled. Almost. “He ran the whole thing like a con artist running a scam. He set up a fake online trail and made sure rumors got out on the street before he even got to El Paso. By the time he hit the ground, they were waiting for him, but that was what he wanted. All he needed was a way in, and a street gang on the American side of the border gave him that. He made himself a damned Trojan horse. Once he got inside, he had a plan to bring down the bastard who ordered the hit that got his family killed. Guess he wanted to look the guy in the eye before it all goes down . . . even if it put him at risk, too.”
By the way Garrett shook his head, Alexa knew he hadn’t had a say in how Kinkaid had orchestrated his own abduction.
“And in order for his plan to work, that meant you had to disappear,” she said. “If anyone saw you living large in New York, word might get back to the border, and Kinkaid would be a sitting duck.”
“Yeah. That’s why I couldn’t say anything. It had to look as if I’d gone undercover, on a mission of my own. If anyone knew what was really happening, Kinkaid’s life would be more at risk than it already was. I backed his play because he left me no options.”
“This is crazy. You gotta get him out of there,” she insisted. “I mean, what are you waiting for?” Her frustration got the better of her, and she knew it. “There’s gotta be another way to get at Pérez. We’ll find it and bring him down.”
“No, we’re too close, Alexa,” Garrett argued. “For now, we’re doing it Kinkaid’s way. All he has to do is hold out a little longer.”
“Hold out, for what? He’s not you. He can’t tell them anything.” She heard the anger in her voice and didn’t care. Anything involving Kinkaid was personal. No wonder Garrett had left her in the dark.
“Yeah, but they don’t know that. Kinkaid is holding out until Pérez gets there. From our intel, that son of a bitch is in Mexico City, conducting business as usual, but he’s heading to his estate tomorrow. That’s what Kinkaid has been waiting for.”
“So what happens after Pérez is in the picture?”
“I know what I’d like to see happen, but I don’t think Kinkaid has any intention of taking Pérez alive. He’s got another plan that I don’t know about.”
“Then why did he ask you to back him up?”
“We’re his insurance. If he can’t finish what he started, he wants to make sure I do.”
“That’s insanity. We could have done this clean, with minimal collateral damage.” Alexa shook her head. “But he doesn’t care about that, does he? If he’s got a shot at killing the bastard, he’s gonna take it, no matter what happens to him. Damn it, Jackson.”
She knew Kinkaid didn’t care what happened as long as he got what he wanted. Garrett was right about his having nothing left but revenge. And how much of Kinkaid’s mercenary days had been a part of his scheme to find the man who’d ordered the hit? Had he gotten involved with the drug cartels, hoping to find out who had been responsible for the murder of his wife and child?
His obsession had consumed him. That was what she sensed the last time she’d seen him on their mission into Cuba during a hostage-rescue operation, but after hearing what Garrett had to say, Alexa felt an overwhelming sadness for Kinkaid. What a waste!
“I want in.” She turned her attention to Garrett. “I understand your concerns about my objectivity when it comes to Kinkaid, but I’ve got to be a part of this.”
Garrett sighed and stole a glance toward Hank. The ground-team leader only shrugged his version of an endorsement.
“You’re in on one condition. What I say goes. You’re following orders, understood?” Garrett pointed a finger at her. After she nodded, he said, “And when this turns ugly, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Alexa knew that if Kinkaid was on a suicide mission, odds were that she’d see him die. And that thought fueled an ache deep in her belly, but that was a far cry from letting him go it alone. The least she could do was back him up.
And that meant taking down Pérez on his turf—in the stronghold of his estate.
Chapter 9
La Pointe, Wisconsin
Next morning
Jessie had taken a chance and gotten up early to catch Chief Cook at the police station. She didn’t intend to talk to him, knowing how far that would get her. This time, she parked down the street, playing a hunch. And when she saw his patrol car leave the station parking lot, she smiled.
“Gotcha.”
The man could have been making a donut run, but Jessie had a gut feeling he was up to something else. When he headed toward the DeSalvo house and turned onto a back road, she knew her hunch had paid off. True to his word, he had gone to see Sophia Tanner, the trip he had wanted to make alone.
“Sorry, Tobias. You can’t be the Lone Ranger, not today.”
But before he turned into the Tanner driveway, the chief spotted her in his rearview mirror and stopped in the middle of the drive, blocking her way in. When he got out of his vehicle, she did, too.
“I’m not breaking any laws, Chief. This is a public road. And I’m a tourist.”
“You’re loitering.”
“I’m bird-watching.” She glared at him, going on the offensive before he did. “What changed, Chief? One minute you’re talking to me, the next, you’re ready to slather me in hot tar and roll me in feathers. What gives?”
“Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you. What part of ‘this is my case’ don’t you understand? Is English not your first language?”
“Oh, I’m getting your message loud and clear, Tobias. And for the record, if I were bilingual, I could ignore you in two languages.” She stood toe-to-toe with him, her arms crossed. “Who’s Sophia Tanner? And why are you protecting her?”
“What? That’s ridiculous.” Chief Cook glared at her and worked his jaw like it pained him. “Anyone ever tell you, you’re a pain in the ass?”
“Yeah, but if it’ll make you feel better, you’re the first one today.”
Before Cook could mount a second wave of ornery, Jessie looked beyond him and waved her hand and smiled.
“She looks real friendly.”
Chief Cook turned to see Sophia Tanner standing on the porch. She was returning Jessie’s wave with one of her own.
“I might have to come back, to say hello.”
“Now I told you . . .”
“I know what you said, Chief, but the way I see it, you have two choices. You could invite me to stay, and both of us talk to her, or I can come back later—alone. Your choice?”
“There is another way to go. I could arrest you.”
“For what? Bird-watching?”
Cook dropped his chin to his chest and let his shoulders slump. None of this was going like he’d planned, but before he thought about things too hard, Jessie’s mouth was making promises it couldn’t keep.
“If I promise that I won’t say a word, will you let me sit in?”
Chief Cook clenched his jaw, and finally said, “Fine.”
The Tanner residence was the closest acreage to the house where A
ngela DeSalvo had been murdered. It was a mirror image of the DeSalvo place except that it was in better shape. The green clapboard house had a well-maintained yard with wooden steps that led to the front porch. Potted flowers hung from a cedar pergola near the front door. And Sophia Tanner was a collector of yard art, anything that spun in the wind.
By the time Jessie and Chief Cook parked their vehicles and got out, Sophia Tanner came out to meet them. She was wiping her hands with a washrag, wearing khaki slacks with a blue floral top.
“Hello, Sophia. Thanks for making time for me.”
“I didn’t expect you to bring a visitor, Tobias. Not with you wanting to talk about . . . that DeSalvo murder.”
Mrs. Tanner did not look happy with the chief, but when she turned her attention on Jessie, the woman smiled.
“I’m Sophia Tanner.” She extended her hand and waited for Jessie to reciprocate. The woman’s hand was icy cold.
“My name’s Jessie. Jessie Beckett.”
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No, ma’am. I’m not. I drove up from Chicago. I’m an investigator, helping Chief Cook with an old case.”
The woman squeezed her hand and held it a little too long. And the way she looked at her, it made Jessie feel uncomfortable. Chief Cook must have felt it, too. He cleared his throat and put his hand on Mrs. Tanner’s shoulder.
“Let’s go inside. Would that be okay?”
Mrs. Tanner blinked, almost as if she hadn’t heard him.
“Yes, of course. Please . . . come in.” The woman led them into her living room. “How’s that arthritis of yours, Tobias? You walking like I told you?”
“Sophia used to push me to walk at lunch when we worked together,” the chief told Jessie. “And she wasn’t a woman you could say no to, at least not often.”
Mrs. Tanner listened to Cook and smiled, but when she thought Jessie wasn’t looking, the woman stole glances at her. Jessie felt like a damned lab rat. The staring made her uncomfortable until she got distracted with the woman’s house.
The Tanner house was real homey inside, especially with the smell of coffee and cinnamon lingering in the air. And she collected antique furniture, good-quality stuff, and had lace and pastel frills everywhere. But when Jessie saw all the family photos in the living room, the smiling happy faces reminded her of what she’d never had—a family.
