by Taylor Lee
Francis’s knowing laugh confirmed that she looked as confused as she felt. Nodding to the waitress, he said in a knowing voice thick with suppressed laughter, “You’ll have to forgive the Enchantress, Lucy. Our Sergeant Moreau is known to go off in circles in her mind that obviates her ability to respond to normal people.”
Francis shoved himself in beside her and whispered, “Should I tell your innocent server the rosy flush on your cheeks can only have come from one place or, to be more precise, from one lucky man?” At her groan, he added, “C’mon, sweet cheeks, ’fess up. Tell daddy what that righteous guy did to you now.” Glancing wide-eyed at her overflowing plate, he added, “Damn, Viviana, it must have been some crazy night. I can’t remember when you’ve ordered that much food. Need to replace the calories you expended?”
Seeing the server hovering nearby, clearly interested in their conversation, Viviana frowned at the audacious man grinning at her. Waving her hand to chase away the blushing server, she glared at her friend and number-one CI. “Jesus, Francis, make a scene, why don’t you? God, can’t I eat a reasonable lunch without you jumping to erroneous conclusions?”
Francis shook his head. “Not a chance, sugar lips. Your meals are usually three to one alcohol to real food.” Pointing to her loaded plate, he guffawed. “See what I mean?”
Viviana sighed but couldn’t help grinning at the man who knew her almost as well as Jax did. Although she admitted that Jax knew her in more ways than her CI could likely imagine and he’d been around the horn almost as much as she had.
“Fine, yes, that ‘righteous’ guy wore me out last night. And yes, I’m starving. But as you know, Francis, I haven’t had much of an appetite since I was hurt. It feels good to be hungry for real food.”
Francis shot her a sympathetic smile that was clouded with regret. Viviana wished she hadn’t mentioned the attack that nearly killed her. She knew Francis blamed himself for not bringing Jax into the case earlier than he had. Viviana conceded if Francis hadn’t finally called Jax, it was a virtual certainty she wouldn’t have survived the beating the assholes gave her. Wanting to change the subject, she reached for his hand.
“Yes, I’m starving, and as I’m sure you’ve surmised, Jax is a formidable lover. But it’s more than that, Francis. I had the most extraordinary morning. It’s as though the stars in the sky are aligned! You know I’m after dirt on the shit that’s about to break loose between the Diablos and the Padrones. You won’t believe this, but every damn one of my sources was willing to talk. Plus, you really won’t believe this, but I managed to get a sit-down with Carlos Mendes. He was more than willing to spill the shit about the Padrones. He as much as told me that a death feud is about to erupt between the gangs.”
Later, Viviana realized that if she hadn’t been so excited, she probably would have acknowledged the frown creasing her friend’s normally placid brow. But she’d been unable to quell her mounting excitement. “Francis, not only was Carlos willing to talk to me, but he said for some serious bank, he might be able to arrange a meet with Raphael Torres himself. He’s setting it up now. If my luck holds, I could be meeting with that bad boy as early as tomorrow.”
Seeing Francis’s obvious shock, she stopped, then said with a frown, “What’s wrong, Francis? Surely you must know this is a huge breakthrough. Do you know how hard it is to get a meet with Mendes, much less Torres? Virtually impossible, I tell you.”
Francis held up his hands. “Stop, Viviana. Please stop. First, tell me you didn’t truly meet with Mendes by yourself.” He must have seen her frown, because he pleaded, “You promised, Viv, you weren’t going to do that. You promised Jax you would bring Mick or even Bannon into any of your clandestine activities. And now you’re talking about meeting with Raphael Torres? Jesus, sweet cheeks, they could be setting you up!”
Viviana felt a rush of annoyance flood her. Good God, surely if anyone knew the way she worked, it was Francis. She glared at him. “Jesus, Francis, you know I can’t do that, not yet. Those guys don’t know Mick or especially Greg. Can you imagine how far I’d get in a meeting if I showed up with a detective and my fucking commander? They’d laugh in my face. You know damn well I wouldn’t get by the first dragon at the door.”
“But, Vivi, you promised Jax that you would keep him in the loop. Now—”
She interrupted him. “Stop, Francis. You of all people know how the street works. And you know what it has taken me to cultivate these sources. It’s taken me years to get their trust. I can’t blow that now. Surely you understand.” Seeing his troubled expression, Viviana sought to reassure him. “Look, as soon as I get my meet with Torres, I’ll bring the rest of the team into it. I promise. But for now, we have to do this my way. I can’t blow an opportunity like this because of Jax’s silly rules. You know damn well we wouldn’t have broken the Diva case or the Lolitas Unbound case if I’d dragged Mick, or worse, Greg Bannon into the mix.”
Noting he still looked unconvinced, Viviana shoved at her annoyance. Glancing down at the mountain of untouched food in front of her, she then pretended to look at her phone. “Damn, it’s later than I thought. I also realized that I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.” Rising to her feet, she shrugged. “Sorry, Francis. I should have known I don’t do lunch unless, as you said, I have good booze to wash it down.” Tossing a couple of twenties on the table, she said as she walked away, “Tip that nice girl with one of those bills and, again, sorry for the wasted food.”
Frustrated that Francis had rained on her parade, Viviana decided she needed to run. God, she’d hoped to process her stunning achievements with her trusted CI, but he’d let her down. Fine, she thought with an annoyed huff, she’d process it with herself on one of her seven-minute mile treks up to the top of Telegraph Pass.
When she finished the arduous run, she headed back to the precinct gym to shower and change. After a rushed shower, Viviana dragged her wet hair into a ponytail. Brushing a dab of gloss on her full lips, Viviana decided that was the best she could do in a hurry. Besides, the exhilarating run and her extraordinary meetings added more color to her cheeks than blush could.
Hearing someone calling her name, she turned to see Mick O’Reilly on her heels.
“Damn, Vivi. Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for the last two hours. Jax called a meeting of the team for three, and it’s four now. When we couldn’t reach you, he postponed it until I could catch up with you.”
Chasing after Mick, Viviana did her best to keep up with his long-legged strides. They were soon at the door to Jax’s office. Taking a deep breath, she did her best to paint a serious expression on her face and willed her eyes not to give her triumphant excitement away. Coming into the room, the chill hit her as though she walked into a deep freeze. Both Greg and Jax looked serious. Not knowing what had happened to cause their concern, she assumed it was because she was late. Frankly, she didn’t care. Nodding to them both, she blew out a hard sigh as she sank into one of the chairs surrounding the conference table and tried not to let her annoyance show. God, if they didn’t know by now that she hated team meetings, they should.
Jax picked up a remote and fired up the monitors on the wall. Instantly, Serge, Matías and Paul appeared on the various screens.
After he opened the meeting, Jax called on each of the federal agents to report on their progress. It was obvious from their brief reports that not much had happened since they met yesterday. Knowing that her information had the potential to blow the case wide open, Viviana shoved at her excitement and dragged her attention back to the discussion. When both Mick and Greg confirmed that at this point they had nothing to add, Jax turned to her.
Focusing a narrowed gaze on her, he said, “That leaves you, Sergeant Moreau. Hopefully you have more to report than your teammates did.”
Making a quick calculation, Viviana decided she could plead ignorance like everyone else had. Apparently her team had come up empty. She may as well join them.
She gave
a dismissive shrug and said, “Sorry, Jax, but I’m afraid I don’t have any more to report than the others did.”
At his frowning silence, a wave of unease slithered over her. He nodded, then pinned her with a deeper frown. “I see. That’s too bad. I understand from your partner and commander that you were gone most of the day. Want to fill us in on your activities?”
Viviana swallowed, then tossed her head. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I had a leisurely lunch, then decided to take a quick run up Telegraph Pass to work off the calories.” As if excusing her offline activities, she added, “As you know, Jax, running is where I work through the shit in my head.”
He pressed his lips in a hard, straight line and held her gaze. His voice was low, but she didn’t miss the danger streaking it. “What did you do before your lunch, Sergeant?”
“I . . . I don’t understand . . . ”
Fighting against the fifty-foot drop her stomach took and knowing that her cheeks had to be flaming, Viviana forced herself to meet his gaze.
He studied her for a long moment. “It’s a simple question, Sergeant Moreau. I’m asking with whom did you meet this morning and did you get any useful information from them.”
Praying that her angels were with her, she gave a dismissive shrug. “I wish I had more to report, Jax—”
She stopped when he held up his hand. Her stomach lurched crazily when he asked in an even tone, “Carlos Mendes wasn’t forthcoming?”
Horrified that he knew she’d met with one of the Diablos kingpins, she tried to remain calm. She knew if she could just get her breath, she could figure out a way to explain. She met his stern gaze and willed her voice not to shake. “Um, yes, I did run into Torres, but he wasn’t willing to talk to me.”
Jax continued to hold her gaze, his eyes stone cold. Ignoring her lie, he asked, “Who did you take to the meeting, Sergeant Moreau? Detective O’Reilly or Commander Bannon?”
Willing herself to appear calm, Viviana shrugged and managed to say, “Neither one. I didn’t have time to bring them into the equation. I . . . I ran into Torres by accident . . . ”
“I see. So you didn’t meet with three of Torres’s street soldiers before you talked your way into a meeting with Carlos?”
Struggling for composure, Viviana tried to reassure herself. Okay, fine, somehow Jax must have found out that she met purposefully with Mendes. When she’d convinced herself that she could throw him off her tail, the bomb burst.
“When is your meeting with Raphael Torres, Sergeant Moreau?”
Hearing Mick and Greg’s audible gasps, Viviana slammed her eyes shut, refusing to look at either one of them.
As if in explanation to the nationally based agents, Jax explained coolly, “Raphael Torres is the head of the Diablos, one of the gangs precipitating the internecine violence about to tear this city apart. As an aside, Torres is the most vicious and dangerous of all the assholes we are chasing.”
Jax’s voice was calm, but she didn’t need to look at him to know how angry he was. Determined not to cry and feeling her anger beginning to rise, she put up her hands and said haughtily, “We haven’t scheduled it yet.” In in a flash of understanding, she knew what had happened. That lily-livered Francis Flemings had betrayed her. Like the spineless snake that he was, he’d tattletaled on her. Not believing his duplicity, Viviana was filled with rage. Sucking in a deep breath, she rose to her feet and headed toward the door.
Jax’s voice cut through the air like a rapier blade. “Where do you think you are going, Sergeant?”
She glared at him and said angrily, “Out. Out of here. And, Jax, I’m not coming back. I don’t want to be on this fucking team and I never did. So, if you’ll excuse me . . . ”
Nodding to the chair she’d abandoned, his voice was deceptively soft. “Sit down, Sergeant Moreau.” When she hesitated, he said, “Now.”
Swallowing hard, Viviana resumed her seat, refusing to meet what she knew was his iron-hard gaze. A tsunami of emotions flooded her. Not knowing when she’d been more embarrassed, her fury at Jax rose to incomparable heights. How dare he embarrass her like this? Not only in front of Mick and Greg, but the three national agents as well? Her anger was so intense, it shut off the air to her lungs. Afraid that she might faint at any moment, she became aware that Jax was standing beside her, a glass of water in his hand. When she shook her head, refusing to take the glass, Jax said quietly, “Gentlemen, if you will excuse us, please. Sergeant Moreau and I need to have a conversation. I’ll let you know when I reschedule our meeting.”
Chapter 8
Drink this, Viviana.”
Hearing his voice as though it was coming through a wind tunnel, Viviana shook her head. Struggling to breathe, she clung to the edge of the table. Jax’s chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it up next to her and sat down.
Grasping her arm, his voice was cool, authoritative. “That wasn’t a request, Viviana. I want you to drink this now.” As if he were dealing with a child, he bargained with her. “After you finish this and I’m confident you won’t faint, I’ll trade you the water for a stiff shot of Maker’s Mark.”
Desperately needing the liquid courage, she grabbed the glass from him and drank it down. Choking on the rush of liquid hitting her throat, she coughed frantically. Jax pounded on her back and tugged her closer to him. His soft tones were layered with irony. “Although, sweetheart, if you’re having trouble keeping down good ole H2O, perhaps we should hold off on the scotch.”
Viviana glared up at him, fighting to keep her angry tears from falling. “Goddamn you, Jax. Give me that Maker’s Mark now, or . . . ”
He quirked a brow and visibly sought to squelch his grin. “Or you’ll do what, Viviana? Throw a temper tantrum? Kick and scream until you get what you want?”
Her fury rising, she spat out, “I hate you, Jax. More than I knew it was possible to hate someone.” She stopped her tirade for a moment, then corrected herself. “The only person I despise more than you is that sniveling coward Francis Fleming.” Glaring at him, she persisted. “He told you, didn’t he? That goddamned fucking coward betrayed me. So help me God, when I see him again, if I ever allow myself to be within a hundred yards of him, I’ll, I’ll—”
Jax interrupted her. “You’ll do what, Viviana? Attack the man who could barely keep from crying when he called me today? Harangue him for loving you so much that he can’t bear the thought of seeing you hurt again?”
She sniffed. “I wasn’t hurt and wouldn’t have been. All I was doing was my job.”
Jax held up his hand. His voice was contained, but the anger underlying his words was patently obvious. “You’re right, Viviana, you weren’t hurt . . . this time. But you are also wrong. You were not doing your job. To be clear, you were doing the opposite of your job. You were doing precisely what you and I agreed you would not do.”
Turning away from him, she looked longingly at the liquor cabinet, wondering if she was steady enough to get her own goddamned scotch. Shocked that her legs had lost whatever strength they had and were as useful as rubber bands, she sank back in her chair. The last thing she would do was ask Jax for anything, even a much-needed double shot of Maker’s Mark.
Jax reached for her chin, forcing her to look at him. When she jerked away, refusing to let him touch her, his eyes narrowed further. If anything, his low voice was more dangerous. “Let’s go back to Francis, the man who called me today and ‘ratted’ you out. I presume that is how you would describe his frantic call that hideous night, telling me that you had been abducted by the criminals you were clandestinely trailing. Or maybe we should talk about Mick and Greg, your supposed partner and commander, who had to have been as shocked as Francis when you calmly declared that Carlos Mendes had agreed to arrange a meeting for you with none other than Raphael Torres.”
Jax reached over and turned her chair so she couldn’t avoid looking at him. “You remember your partner and your commander, Viviana? The two men who led the Lolitas raid to free you? T
he men who found you drugged out of your mind and beaten nearly to death by the assholes who were minutes away from gang-raping you?” His voice thick with banked anger, he added softly, “Mick O’Reilly told me, Viviana, with tears streaming down his face, it was a sight he will remember with horror until the day he dies.”
When she averted her eyes and tossed her head, he grasped her chin, insisting that she meet his gaze. “Are those the men you are calling traitors, lily-livered cowards? Men who would gladly give their lives to protect you, to keep you from getting hurt?”
Calling on her significant cache of chutzpah, Viviana shrugged dismissively. “Well, none of those overbearing men have to worry about ratting me out, because I will never again confide in any of them . . . ”
Jax’s eyes flashed dangerously as he nodded in agreement. “You are correct, Viviana. Because you will never have anything to tell Francis, or Mick, or your commander that you haven’t already told me.” He made a visible effort to contain his anger, then said carefully, “As we agreed, Viviana, your Lone Ranger days are over. In that you are now part of a high-level team.”
Viviana threw up her hands and whirled on him. “Don’t you get it, Jax? I don’t want to be on your fucking team! I hate teams. I won’t do them. They move too slow, talk too much, and won’t take chances. For God’s sake, Jax, admit it. I’m the one who managed to meet with Carlos Mendes my first day out.” Holding her thumb and index finger a scant inch apart, she added fiercely, “And I am this close to meeting with Raphael fucking Torres! Tell me, which one of your high-powered team members could have done that in less than a day? Mick? Bannon? Serge Stryker, who is so busy investigating me that he probably has never heard of Raphael Torres?”
Jax again held up his hand to stop her, then nodded in agreement. “You are correct. No one on our team has cultivated the sources you have and is as skillful as you are at using them to get to the bastards we’re after.” When she frowned, trying to figure out where he was going with this, he added, “There is not one of us, myself included, who could have accomplished what you did today. Which is why we need you on our team.”
