by Cassie Miles
After exchanging a hostile hello with Berringer, she said, “Your forensic people are wasting their time. The whole incident was recorded by the surveillance cameras in the garage.”
“Molly, Molly,” he said, “you just won’t quit telling me how to do my job.”
“If you’d listened to me before, this shootout might have been avoided.”
“Yeah?” His voice was harsh. “I don’t see any stolen diamond necklaces.”
“Maybe I didn’t have the details right, but I knew something was going to happen.”
“And how did you know?” he asked. “Somebody steal a pencil? Another anonymous note?”
She could stand here arguing with him or she could take action. Molly turned to Adam and said, “May I speak to you for a moment?”
He came with her as she walked away from Berringer. “What’s up?”
“Pierce checked himself out of the hospital. He’s on his way to the loft.”
“Of course,” Adam said. “The loft. That’s where it’s all going to come together.”
“We’ve got to go there. Right now. This minute.”
“Hold on.” His voice was annoyingly calm. “We’ve done all we can. It’s time to turn this investigation over to the police.”
“Berringer? He’s never moved fast in his life. We need action, not somebody who’s going to stand around and whine.”
“He can’t ignore this,” Adam said darkly. “Not with the terrorist implications. I’ll give him the information, and he’ll set the wheels in motion.”
“There isn’t time.” She knew how the system worked. “Berringer will need to get a warrant. To call for backup. Maybe even to contact Homeland Security. We can’t wait around.”
“Give it up, Molly.”
“I won’t.” Her head was spinning. She wasn’t opposed to having someone else do the final assault, but they needed someone who could act now. Right this minute! “What about the Feds? We know people. We’re CCC. I should be running this show.”
He grasped both of her arms, compelling her to look into his eyes. His gaze was hard—very different from the warmth that radiated from him when they made love. She knew this look, Adam’s military look. He was about to give her an order.
“Your investigation is over,” he said firmly. “To continue would be foolish.”
How could he say that? “Are you calling me a fool?”
“Of course not. I’m telling you that you’re in over your head. There’s a time to retreat and—”
“I know,” she said. “When you can’t win, retreat. But we’ve won, Adam. We figured it out. We have to go to the loft.”
“Calm down. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t you dare patronize me.”
She couldn’t believe that he was reverting back to his overbearing, demanding self. Not after all they’d been through. Not after last night. She’d slept in his arms. Only moments ago, he told her that he loved her.
“I won’t let you go to that loft,” he said. “It’s irresponsible and dangerous.”
“Now I’m irresponsible?”
He slid his hands up her arms to her shoulders, holding her down. “Listen to me, Molly. I don’t want you to get hurt. When I heard gunfire from inside this garage, I almost had a heart attack. I can’t lose you.”
“But I’m investigating, Adam. I figured out this whole smuggling scheme, and I won’t let my efforts be for nothing.” Pierce could be killed. “Danger is part of the job.”
He had the nerve to grin. “You sound like one of those TV detective shows.”
“I’m serious.” Anger hardened her resolve. “You’ve got to take me seriously.”
“As a detective?”
As a detective and a human being. She was more than his cute blond assistant. “Why can’t you understand this?”
“Come on, Molly. We both know you’re not cut out for field investigation. You’re too good a person. You want to believe everybody.”
His negative opinion of her skills hurt, but she wasn’t going to argue with him now.
Adam spoke in a calm voice as though she were a dim-witted child. “I’ll inform Berringer about the loft and the priority need for his men to go there.”
“Fine.” But she had a different plan. And it didn’t include waiting around for the inexorably slow grinding of the wheels of justice. Molly glided her arms inside Adam’s jacket and gave him a hug. When she pulled away, she’d slipped his gun from his shoulder holster. Her skills at picking pockets came in handy from time to time.
MOLLY LEFT the garage while Adam and Berringer discussed the plan for storming the loft. Her escape had been simple and subtle. She’d faked a headache and gone to sit down. From there, it was only a few steps to the exit.
On the sidewalk, she ran in her high-heeled pumps, dodging the pedestrians. Pierce’s loft was only a few blocks away in LoDo which was, on a Saturday night, a hotbed of singles activity. Fans who had attended a Rockies’ game surged toward the many brew pubs. Though today was nothing special, there was a festival atmosphere.
Molly’s inner turmoil was the very opposite of lighthearted. She was angry at Adam, furious. When he told her that he loved her, he apparently didn’t mean that he loved her as an equal. He thought of her as some sort of wounded bird, someone who was incapable of taking care of herself and needed him to hold her together.
Well, fine! Let him stay in the parking garage with his cop buddies. Let them dither and wither until after everything had gone down.
She’d rescue Pierce in her own way.
On the street corner outside the loft building, she spotted Gloria. Molly’s fears were confirmed. The exchange of the illegal diamonds was about to take place.
Before Molly could hide herself in the crowd, Gloria turned. Their eyes met. There was no turning back.
Striding briskly, Molly closed the distance between them. “You can’t do this, Gloria.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Diamonds.” Molly’s hand was in her purse. Her fingers closed around the grip of Adam’s gun. “You’ve been using your handsewn gowns from Thailand to smuggle diamonds.”
Gloria’s dark eyes flicked nervously. She didn’t appear to be armed. All she carried was a small purse. “I have to make this exchange. If I don’t, they’ll kill me.”
“Or Pierce,” Molly said.
Gloria’s cool sophistication crumbled. Her lower lip trembled. “I never meant for Pierce to be hurt. He chose the wrong time to confront me, and that man—”
“Attacked him from behind,” Molly said. “Stabbed him in the back.”
“Pierce was only trying to help me.” She drew a shaky breath. “Trying to protect me.”
“He still loves you,” Molly said. There was no other explanation for his behavior. “All that time in the hospital, he could have told the police what was going on. He could have turned you in. But no. He kept your secret.”
“Because he knew, Molly. He knew these terrible men would hurt me if I didn’t do exactly what they said.”
Poor, brave, misguided Pierce. He’d been trying his best to save the woman he loved. “How did you get involved in all this?”
“It started with the loft. My Thai contacts said they needed a place where they could stay when they came to Denver. I set the lease for them through the phony Sylvan Company. One thing led to another until I was in too deep.”
Though Molly was inclined to forgive mistakes in judgment, Gloria’s criminal scheme was too big and too dangerous to brush aside. “I can’t let you go through with this.”
A couple on the sidewalk accidentally jostled her, and Molly’s hand rose from her purse, showing the gun.
“My God,” Gloria said. “Do you intend to shoot me?”
“If I need to.” Molly nodded toward the entrance for the loft building. “Let’s get off the street.”
Inside the empty lobby, Gloria checked her w
ristwatch. “I need to go upstairs. I’m expected.”
“Forget it. We’ll stay here and wait for the cops.”
Gloria had recovered enough of her poise to be pushy. She tossed her head, and her straight black hair shimmered. “Listen, Molly. The best thing is to let me complete this transaction. I have it all planned.”
“Right down to your alibi,” Molly said. “There are hundreds of people at Heidi’s wedding reception who will swear that you were there all the time.”
Her lips pinched together. “Yes.”
“But I know the truth.”
“God, you’re a pest,” Gloria snapped. “I mean, look at you. Your hair’s a disaster. Your dress is filthy, which is no great loss because it’s a cheesy little outfit anyway.”
“But I have the gun,” Molly pointed out. “Wouldn’t you say this is the perfect accessory?”
“I wish I’d killed you when I jumped out of that van.”
“That was you?”
“That’s right, Little Miss Detective. I was the one who came after you in the parking lot. I wanted to scare you off before you figured out too much. And, by the way, that kick to my thigh really hurt.”
“Good,” Molly said with heartfelt satisfaction. “I thought it was Denny Devlin who attacked me.
“Denny’s a coward. He was terrified that the knives could be traced back to him. Actually, they were a gift to me. I still had them at the boutique. Believe me, Molly, I had no idea that thug had found my knives or that he’d use them on Pierce.”
“Stan saw all this, didn’t he?”
“Stan Lansky?” Gloria shrugged. “I suppose so. I don’t pay much attention to what Stan does unless his work is substandard.”
Stan the Magpie had been disturbed enough by Gloria’s scheme to report her. But he didn’t want to lose his job, so he sent the anonymous note.
Though Molly didn’t want to become too sympathetic toward Stan, his crimes were naughty. Gloria’s plan was big, vicious and evil.
“What about Ronald Atchison?” Molly asked.
“I needed his skills. He doesn’t know about the smuggling, but he made a few fake identifications for my Thai associates.”
“Like Phil Prath.”
Molly nodded. She was somewhat impressed with Gloria’s organizational skills. She’d marshaled her resources and put together a workable plan, using many of the people she knew. If Pierce hadn’t confronted her, she might have gotten away with it.
“For once, be smart,” Gloria said. “Let me make the exchange. Then these smugglers can be taken into custody.”
“And you get away with the payoff?”
“I suppose not. What a shame! I’ll give up the cash and turn state’s evidence. I’ll testify against these thugs.”
Her smile was smug. Her ego was so huge that she really couldn’t believe that anything bad would happen to her.
“There’s only one problem with your plan,” Molly said.
“What?”
“Pierce checked himself out of the hospital. He’s already here.”
Chapter Twenty
For the third time, Adam tried to explain to Detective Berringer about Gloria and the diamond smuggling scheme. It wasn’t going well. The whole idea of a bridal boutique owner involved with international smuggling lacked credibility.
The detective frowned. “But why does she send dresses to Thailand in the first place?”
“Something to do with the handiwork or the stitching or something.” Adam was nearing the end of his patience. “How the hell would I know about wedding gowns?”
“You’ve made a lot of assumptions here,” Berringer said. “Without much evidence.”
“The sniper,” Adam said. “The man who fired at Molly has a Thai passport.”
“Which doesn’t connect him to wedding planners.”
“Damn it, man. Molly has been investigating inside the wedding business. What more connection do you need?”
“You understand my reluctance,” Berringer said. “If I call in Homeland Security and this turns out to be a bunch of baloney, I’ll look like a jerk.”
“Fine,” Adam said crisply. He’d wasted enough time dealing with Berringer. “I’m calling the FBI.”
In past cases with CCC, Adam had often dealt with Special Agent Gary O’Hara—a man who trusted his word. O’Hara wouldn’t hesitate to act on a tip from Adam, especially when it involved an international crime like diamond smuggling.
“Wait!” When Berringer held up his hand, he looked like a traffic cop trying to hold back a semitruck. “I’ll take care of the situation. Give me the address for the loft.”
“Then what?”
“You know the procedures. I’ll call in for a warrant and alert the SWAT team.”
A time-consuming process. Molly had been right when she said it would take too long for the police to swing into motion.
After Adam gave Berringer the address, he reached into the inner pocket of his tuxedo to get his cell phone. It wouldn’t hurt to give O’Hara a call and get another expert opinion.
His hand brushed his shoulder holster. Something didn’t feel right. He patted the leather. His gun was gone. Damn it, he should have noticed the weight difference, but his Glock automatic was only a couple of pounds fully loaded.
He knew immediately how he’d lost his weapon. Molly. She embraced him after he’d told her in no uncertain terms that their investigation was over. He’d thought her hug meant she agreed with him. Instead, she’d picked his pocket.
Adam strode down the ramp inside the parking lot to the place he’d left Molly resting on a concrete bench. Of course, she wasn’t there. She’d taken off on her own.
Though he should have been angry at her for not obeying his orders, Adam’s frustrated rage was directed squarely toward himself. He’d been wrong. Molly’s instincts about the police taking too long had been right. She’d made the smart move and left him in the dust, trying to reason with the unreasonable Berringer.
There was a lesson to be learned. He needed to listen to Molly, to respect her opinion, even when he didn’t agree.
As he exited the parking structure and headed toward Pierce’s loft at a run, Adam hoped he wouldn’t be too late to tell her she’d been right.
IT WASN’T EASY for Molly to formulate a plan of action with Gloria. Neither woman trusted the other. In the cool, silent corridor outside Pierce’s loft, they whispered back and forth.
“Give me the gun,” Gloria said. “I’ll make the exchange and threaten them with the gun until they let Pierce leave with me.”
“No way am I giving you the gun,” Molly said. “You tried to kill me.”
“Don’t be silly. I just wanted to scare you off.”
Molly glared. “You came at me like a knife-wielding psycho.”
“But I’m the one who got hurt. I have a huge bruise on my thigh from where you kicked me.”
They had to stop bickering and take action. Molly wished that Adam were here. In spite of his overbear ing tendencies, his plans were always confident. The chain of command was always clear.
Unfortunately, her place at the bottom of that chain seemed to be a permanent condition—one she couldn’t live with.
Her worst fear had come true. Adam didn’t respect her as an equal. Even after they’d made love all night, he had to be the boss. Uncompromising. Hard as granite. He had the nerve to patronize her and treat her like a dumb blonde. Her dreams for a relationship were over. She’d have to quit at CCC. If she got out of here alive…
She turned to Gloria. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll come with you as a bodyguard. I’ll have my gun drawn and ready. Take care of your business as quickly as possible. We’ll grab Pierce and get out of here.”
“But you don’t—”
“No discussion,” Molly snapped. When she wanted to, she could be just as hardheaded as Adam. “This is the way it’s going down. Open the damn door.”
Gloria used her key on the lock. She
pushed the door open. Molly followed close behind. The Glock automatic was in her hand. The safety was off. She remembered Adam telling her that there were fifteen rounds in this weapon. He’d fired at the parking garage. Two or three times? She probably had ten shots left.
There were two men in the room with Pierce, who sat in a leather chair, barely hanging on to consciousness. He looked miserable.
“I’m Molly Griffith.” She raised her weapon. “I’m here to make sure this exchange goes as scheduled and nobody gets hurt.”
A sleek, handsome man in a dark pin-striped suit stepped away from the windows. His smile reminded her of a king cobra baring his fangs. “I’m Phil Prath, and I am happy to proceed with our business. Gloria? I believe you have something for me.”
“Let me see the money first,” she said.
Phil Prath nodded to his equally well-dressed associate who placed a small attaché case on the coffee table and opened it. Tidy stacks of banded hundred dollar bills filled the attaché. “Three hundred thousand.”
Molly’s eyes popped. She’d never seen anywhere near that much money in one place. It didn’t even look real.
“And now,” Phil Prath said smoothly, “it’s your turn, Gloria.”
She gestured nervously. “I need to go into the kitchen.”
“Why?”
“You didn’t think I’d carry the diamonds with me, did you? They’re here in the loft.”
Keeping an eye on Phil Prath and his associate, Molly followed Gloria toward the kitchen. She muttered, “Please don’t tell me you did the totally cliché thing of hiding the diamonds in the ice.”
“Give me a little credit,” Gloria said. “I had to get the diamonds out of my possession as quickly as possible. This is where Denny Devlin came in handy.”
She opened the freezer. From far in the back, she removed four white boxes with the Devlin Catering logo stamped on top. She carried them ceremoniously to the front room where she placed them on the coffee table near Pierce’s knee.
When he glanced at Gloria, Molly saw a strange coldness in his gaze. Pierce hadn’t yet said a single word.
Gloria explained as she pried open the boxes labeled as microwaveable gourmet dinners. “I didn’t want to keep the diamonds at my home or my place of business. So I ordered these dinners from Denny Devlin. When he delivered to my boutique, I opened the boxes, slipped the diamonds inside and brought them here.”
