by C. A. Szarek
Ignoring him, she reached for her coffee. That was exactly what she was afraid of.
* * * *
“Thanks, Max.” Andi hung up the phone and Cole stepped towards her.
He planted his hands at his sides. Touching her at work was out of the question—he’d had to tell himself that about a thousand times in the two hours they’d been at the station. So far it’d been working, but Cole was dying to grab and kiss her into oblivion. To touch her, make love to her again. Hold her like he had the night before.
Their eyes met and she reddened. It was adorable the way a blush lit up the freckles across the bridge of her nose, but he admired the way she looked at him head on, for once, not glancing away. “Well?” he prompted.
Her discomfort at breakfast had led to a very silent ride to work. Andi hadn’t said one word to him after she’d come out of Ethan’s school. Was she going to ignore him all day?
Cole wasn’t about to let the subject drop. And he wasn’t about to let her get away from him now that he’d had her. He was going to be in her bed tonight—and every night—until they got Maldonado. He’d worry about after later.
“That was Max, from the ME’s office. The blood at the Reynolds’ was a match for the fourth, unknown type at the scene of the warehouse.”
“Of course it was,” Cole said.
Andi nodded and one corner of her mouth lifted. “Not often you’re wrong, huh, Agent Lucas?”
Whenever she called him Agent Lucas in that tone of voice, he wanted to laugh. It was endearing, not distancing.
Cole shook his head, grinning. “You doubted me? I’m hurt.” He clutched at his chest and she laughed. God, he loved that sound. This was the first time all morning she had some semblance of normal with him. It was a start.
“What now?” she asked
“Well, we’re up to five stolen cars, all used, not abused. Still no idea where the hell he’s staying.” He sighed.
“I’ve thought about that…” Andi said, head tilted to one side.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. There are two or three abandoned buildings not far from the warehouse this all started in. We’ve had to kick people out of them from time to time. I think Kurt and Sully caught a drug case there, too. Last year, someone was cooking meth.”
“Carlo would want to be left alone,” Cole said.
“Right. The place is private. The hotels are all full because of the rodeo. Besides, the three hundred dollars Berto gave him won’t go that far. And I really doubt he headed to the next town over to find a vacancy.”
“I thought about that, too. Bet he’s kicking the shit out of himself for losing the twenty-five K he stole from Caselli.”
Andi grinned. “Poor guy. And it’s not doing a damn thing but sitting in the evidence room. And that nice black Escalade in impound. No wheels for Carlo.”
Cole chuckled. “Caselli’s probably pissed about the cash and the car on principle. It’s not like he’s hurting.”
Wincing, she leant back in her chair. “All that from trading little girls for sex?”
“Among other things. He’s got his hands in drugs, too. And suspected to be behind a huge gambling ring. He’s a multi-tasker.”
“Nice.”
“Before I got involved, the Bureau was building a case on some major gambling, embezzlement stuff, under RICO. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a bust. The two agents undercover were discovered and barely managed to get out.”
“Did they get hurt?” Andi asked, concern evident in her expression.
Cole ignored his stomach somersaulting. Did she care about him like that? “No. But that’s when we turned our focus to the human trafficking. It was a miracle I could get in with him.”
“You did, though. You’re good at your job. You care about this case.”
He bit back a gulp. A compliment from Andi? He stared into her blue eyes, unable to speak right away. “Andi…” Her name was little more than a croak. He wanted to reach for her hand, connect with her, touch her somehow.
She broke eye contact, her face red all over again. “Not at work, Cole.”
“I’m not going to let it drop, like I told you at home.”
Andi looked up sharply, her eyes wide. “Home…” she whispered.
He cleared his throat. Home. The word had significance to her, but he didn’t know why the idea appealed to him so much. Andi’s home, his home? Cole shook his head. “Your house. You knew what I meant.” He shifted at his post on the edge of her desk.
They fell silent. He wasn’t used to the awkwardness of the morning after. Precisely why he didn’t get involved with women from work. But Andi wasn’t just someone from work. She meant more to Cole.
“Do you want to check out the place I mentioned? Flash Maldonado’s picture around?”
Cole jumped. Andi raised an eyebrow, but the distraction was welcome.
He pushed away the much too serious thoughts about her. They’d had sex. It was the best sex he’d had in a long time. He banished the word ever as it tacked itself onto the end of his last thought. No way.
“Sure.” His voice cracked and he bit back a wince. “Couldn’t hurt.”
Rising from her seat, Andi threw an unsure glance over her shoulder. Cole straightened. Instinct screamed at him to settle his hand at the small of her back, like he’d done a dozen times. However, today was different.
Don’t touch her. If he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
“What’s wrong?” Andi asked, looking him up and down.
I need you. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
She nodded and turned on her heel.
The walk down the long hallway was silent. Sounds of life were amplified. Footsteps, voices in the offices along their path, phones ringing, radio chatter, doors opening and closing. Even the water fountain, where a uniformed cop was bending to have a drink. Cole’s ears rang with the obvious lack of Andi’s voice.
Still nothing as she opened the car door and got in. The click of Andi’s seatbelt made him sigh.
“Is it just going to be like this from now on?” Cole asked.
“Like what?” she asked, eyes wide. A pretty good impression of innocence, but he had no doubt she knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Shutting me out.”
“I haven’t…shut you out.” Her voice shook with the lie neither of them bought.
He gave her a long look. Andi’s statement didn’t deserve a contradiction. “You and me. Now. Let’s have it.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” She shook her head.
“Of course you don’t.” Cole made a fist and tapped the steering wheel with his knuckles.
“I told you inside, not at work.”
“We’re not at work. We’re outside of work. Only you and me here. No one else to worry about. Let’s have it.”
She swallowed hard, her face red. Cole wanted to reach for her, comfort her in some manner. But he stayed frozen, waiting for her to speak.
“We have work to do,” she said.
“I’m not going anywhere until we talk.”
Andi sighed, and closed her eyes. “Last night…was…”
God, please don’t let her say a ‘mistake’. Cole’s heart thudded.
He jolted in his seat. Good thing she didn’t see. “Fantastic,” he said.
She opened her eyes and their gazes locked.
Cole wouldn’t let her go, wouldn’t let her shut him out. The idea…hurt.
She looked torn, pained. Andi bit her full bottom lip and he wanted to lean over and take her mouth with his.
“It can’t happen again,” she whispered. Her words were shaky, and she planted her hands on her knees, her knuckles white.
“I’m not letting you go.” Cole’s voice was low but firm.
Andi gasped, but didn’t look away from him. “I…”
“You needed last night as much as I did.”
She shook her head, her expression shouting denial. Her fingers
flexed and her knuckles blanched.
Desperation clawed at him and Cole forced a breath. His heart pounded. Calm the hell down. “The truth is… I need you.” Shit. Oh. Shit. He’d actually said it out loud.
“N-n-need me?” Andi croaked.
“Yes.” He nodded and concentrated hard on portraying confidence. His stomach was in knots. When was the last time he’d allowed a woman to do this to him? That would be a big, fat never.
“I…”
Yeah, Cole didn’t know what to say, either. “Let’s just go.”
Since when was cowardice a part of his makeup? He wasn’t weak.
He shook his head and fought the urge to break away from her gaze.
Andi was staring at him, her expression—for the first time ever—unreadable. She probably thought he was a coward, too.
He turned the key with more force than necessary and the Challenger roared to life. “Is this place far?” he asked, cursing his shaky tone.
“No. Do you remember how to get to the warehouse district? It’s one street over.”
“I do. Hope we have some luck.”
Andi cleared her throat and adjusted the volume on her portable radio. “Me too.”
Chapter Fifteen
Damn, it had taken him almost an hour to catch up with the bright blue Dodge Challenger. But he’d got lucky just cruising the main streets, not even having to hop on the freeway.
The FBI agent was near the warehouse where Carlo had taken out Gains and Reese. And the woman was with him in the car. What the hell?
They drove around the block a few times, moving slower than necessary. What were they looking for? Why was the woman in the car? They pulled over once or twice, motioning homeless-looking people over to the driver’s side. The talking—or questioning or whatever it was—didn’t last long. Then they would move on. Carlo watched, keeping his distance.
After a few hours, he followed them back into town, and to the grocery store where he’d dumped the Beemer. He waited for them to walk into the store, boredom settling over him. Never had had the patience for stakeouts.
The radio in the red Cavalier he’d jacked was broken, so he didn’t even have that to distract him.
Cole Lucas and his woman came back out about a half an hour later, both carrying plastic bags. What was the FBI agent doing, playing house? He watched them chatting as they put the bags in the trunk of the car.
It’d be dark in less than an hour. He could observe them at the house with less worry of being caught. Not that Cole Lucas would notice him—the FBI agent was so far up her ass it wasn’t even funny.
Blending in with traffic was easy as he followed them, and he pulled behind a sleek silver sedan across the street and close to the corner.
Carlo watched them as they got out of the car. She shook her head, and though he couldn’t see the look on Lucas’ face, his shoulders were tight—the FBI agent wasn’t happy.
After dropping the grocery bags he had in both hands, he grabbed the woman’s arm. She resisted, but Cole Lucas had her pinned between his body and the car in seconds. His dark head bent low, and he kissed her. Didn’t stop kissing her. Whatever argument they were having was lost as the bag in her hand slipped to the ground and her arms went around his neck. Lucas’ woman certainly didn’t look upset.
“Who woulda thunk it?” he whispered.
The couple broke apart and retrieved what they’d bought at the store, the woman swaying on her feet until the FBI agent put his arm around her shoulders.
Lucas didn’t even look away from his chick as he escorted her up the walkway, porch steps, and into the house. He’d always been sharp, but now the guy was lost to her.
What the hell had happened to the badass Carlo had known for more than a year? He’d considered Mike Amato, Lucas’ alias, his good friend. He couldn’t see Mike anywhere in the pussy-whipped man headed into the house. But it’d been lies, a game.
Cole Lucas would get what was coming to him.
Carlo had been watching them almost daily for over a week. Not once had he been spotted. Testament to the fact the FBI agent was slipping. To Carlo’s advantage, of course.
The front door opened and he froze, his gaze intent. A girl, sixteen or seventeen, sauntered down the porch steps, throwing her dark hair over a shoulder. She had a purple book bag on one arm and paused behind the blue car, pulling a cell phone from her pocket.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” he whispered.
Light from the device illuminated her cheeks as she read the screen, a smile splitting her face. She didn’t even look up as she crossed the driveway of the house next door, then the lawn, before tucking the phone back into her jeans.
She had one hand on the railing and a foot on the bottom step of the porch before changing directions and heading towards the sidewalk. He watched her lithe, slender body as she went to the mailbox on the corner. She reached in, her hair falling forward like a curtain as she leaned. The kid was appealing, no doubt.
Carlo grinned. “Hello, opportunity. Why yes, I hear you knocking.”
Heart pounding, an idea bloomed. He glanced at the burner phone he’d picked up from Wally-world a few nights before. Lucas was a big draw…but a girl… A pretty one… Dollar signs danced through his head. He’d grieved for the twenty-five K he’d lost long enough. Time for some steel balls.
Calling anyone within his former boss’s organisation was a big risk. They knew where he was…sort of. But if he grabbed the girl, Lucas would come after her. He’d promise Caselli first crack at the FBI agent and sweeten the deal with the girl.
She was a bit too old to bring into the life, but her looks would still get him a good deal, or at least tempt his old boss.
Swallowing the nerves creeping up his throat, he made his fingers dial the cell.
Ring. Then two more.
Shit, maybe voicemail would save his coward ass for now.
“Yo,” the deep voice barked.
Well, not so much.
“Bruno?”
The pause was so long Carlo’s heart skipped two beats. Was Caselli’s right hand still on the phone? Bruno Gallo—Bruno G or just G to most—had risen in the ranks when Berto had gone straight. He’d never liked Carlo, but the feeling was mutual.
“No shit.” The tone held equal parts anger and wonder. “Maldonado, I’m gonna kill your ass.”
Tension forced a humourless laugh from Carlo’s mouth. His stomach jumped. “I have something Caselli wants.”
Again the silence on the other end of the phone just about killed him. Bruno Gallo was a bastard.
“Caselli wants you dead. End. Of.”
“He’ll change his mind when he hears what I have to offer.”
“You really do have balls bigger than your brain, don’cha?”
Carlo ploughed on, gripping the phone tighter to his ear. “Cole Lucas.”
This time the pause didn’t shock him.
“Define have,” Bruno demanded.
“He’s here, and I have a plan.”
Bruno laughed. “You’re mostly useless, Maldonado, and you always have been.”
“I got rid of Big Rod and Jim, did I not?”
His former colleague growled and Carlo was hit with a wave of satisfaction. Fuck Bruno Gallo.
“You will die.”
“Why don’t you run that by the boss first? Something tells me he’d be interested. He wants Cole Lucas more than he wants little ol’ me.”
“I’d prefer a twofer,” Bruno said.
“You don’t get to choose,” Carlo snapped.
“We’ll just see about that.”
Carlo paused, chest tight. Good fucking thing he was an excellent bluffer. “Since when do you run the show?”
“Fuck you, Maldonado.”
“That’s what I thought.” He released a breath. “Let me talk to Caselli.”
“I’ll talk to the boss,” Bruno said.
He could see the scowl on the other man’s scarred face in his m
ind. But Carlo had won for now. Caselli wouldn’t pass up a chance at the traitor FBI agent.
Dangle, dangle. His former boss would bite.
“What do you want?” Bruno asked.
Carlo jumped in his seat in the shitty Chevy. “Back-up. More specifically, a way out. Money. And I’ll go away forever. Caselli won’t ever have to worry about me again.”
Caselli’s right hand growled again. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Will you? Or will you stab me in the back?”
“I said I’ll talk to Caselli and I will.” Bruno sounded insulted.
Smirking, he shook his head even though Bruno couldn’t see him. “I have a plan.”
“I’m sure you do. I’ll be in contact.”
“You do that,” Carlo answered.
Click. The line went dead as Bruno ended the call.
Satisfaction hit Carlo in a wave. Finally, something was going to go his way.
* * * *
Pete raised his eyebrow as he gave Cole a once-over at Andi’s front door. The tall blond had a wine bottle in one hand and thrust the other out—as an afterthought?
A navy blue sling hung unused around his neck, as it had in the hospital, but the detective’s injured arm didn’t look any worse for the wear.
“Hey,” Cole said, giving his hand a firm shake as Andi’s partner stepped into the house.
“Howdy.” Pete’s smile was wide, but Cole was a little uneasy. Hadn’t Pete known Cole was joining them for dinner? The man knew he was staying at her house, after all.
“Looking good, man. How’s the arm?” Cole said.
“Good, good. Glad to be out,” Pete said, as if the hospital was jail. “Raring to get back to work, though.”
One corner of Cole’s mouth lifted and he nodded. “When’s that happening?”
“Damn doc wants me to take it easy. She won’t release me yet.” Pete shook his head, his fair brow furrowed.
“I bet that’s—”
“Unca’ Pete! Unca’ Pete!” Ethan’s shout cut off Cole’s statement, but he grinned at Andi’s son.
The little boy barrelled into Pete, throwing both small arms around him. The detective hauled him up on his right hip, but Cole didn’t miss his wince.
