Dead Heat

by Allison Brennan

  CHAPTER 36

  It was two in the afternoon by the time Lucy and Sean arrived in McAllen with Padre, the seven boys, Michael, and Bella. They had a story but weren’t sure it would hold.

  “It’ll hold,” Kane said. He had looked at Lucy. “Honesty is a good trait, but not this time.”

  Lucy had called Ryan the first time she had an opportunity, but he didn’t answer. She left a voice mail saying that she was fine, she’d be at the McAllen hospital that afternoon and needed to talk to him.

  Lucy wasn’t surprised to see Sam Archer there—Ranger had delivered Brad hours before they arrived.

  “How is he?” Lucy asked.

  “He’ll live.” She closed her eyes, just a minute. “They tortured him. Bad.” Then she breathed deeply and composed herself. “But he’s alive.” She looked at the boys, who all cowered around Padre and Michael. “What happened? Is that Bella Sanchez?”

  “Yes. It’s a long story.” Three nurses spoke to Padre. One took Bella; the other two ushered the boys in another direction. Padre and Sean went with them. “Kane Rogan and his team found them. And Bella.”

  “Oh, dear God, I’m relieved. That many boys? What was he doing?”

  “There were more. Dead.” Lucy would never forget them. She caught Michael’s eye as he rounded the corner. “That’s what Kane said,” she added quickly.

  “Have you talked to your partner?”

  It took her a moment to realize she was talking about Ryan. “Last night. I left a message earlier.”

  Sam looked around, then pulled Lucy to a quiet corner. “He’s investigating something for me. There’s a mole in my division. I narrowed it down to three names.”

  “Who?”

  “Victor Gray and Chris Garber from the McAllen office. And Nicole Rollins from the San Antonio office. Brad’s partner—I haven’t told him yet. I won’t—unless I get confirmation.”

  And then it clicked. The one thing that had been bugging her.

  “It’s Nicole.”

  “How can you be certain?”

  “The ransom. Asking for Sanchez’s two gangbangers to be released. Why not Mirabelle?”

  “She was released.”

  “But no one outside knew that. Only us.”

  “She came late to the staging area with the maps of the warehouse,” Lucy continued. “She stayed there when Tom and Clark were pinned down with fire.” Lucy wondered about what Kane had told her earlier. “Was she involved in an operation several months ago related to guns stolen from a military base and found in Colombia? Six Marines were murdered when they were forced to land and the guns were stolen.”

  Sam dry-heaved. “Yes,” she said, her voice clipped. “She developed the intel on that operation.”

  “She’s been privy to everything in this case, from the planning of Operation Heatwave to the op at the warehouse,” Lucy said. “Your agents in McAllen only got involved two days ago.”

  Nicole knew what car Lucy drove and could have rigged it; she knew where Bella and CeCe were staying in foster care. She was out of town when Lucy’s house was broken into, but she could have hired the two thugs who’d attempted to intimidate Lucy.

  “We need evidence,” Sam said. “I can’t go to my boss with an unproven theory. I hope your partner finds it.”

  Lucy wished she knew what was in the black box, but Kane told her it was now his.

  “If it’s important to law enforcement, I’ll get it to the right people.”

  She didn’t really have a choice. And Michael was okay with it. He’d handed it to Kane, not her.

  Her phone vibrated. It was Ryan. “Hello? Ryan?”

  “You’re at the hospital? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She wasn’t reporting the gunshot to her arm—it was minor. She’d have Sean re-dress it when they got home, and it was hidden under her jacket. “I came to check on Brad.”

  “Fucking amazing. Where have you been?”

  She stuck to the story they’d all agreed to. “We interviewed Michael and he told us about the boys still locked up in Mexico. Sean called Kane. He and his team rescued them, brought them to Jack’s house in Hidalgo.”

  “Why didn’t you call? Send a team down?”

  “Send an FBI team into Mexico?”

  “I see your point. But—”

  She hated lying. She felt physically ill. “It was hardly sanctioned, Ryan.”

  “And Isabella Sanchez?”

  “Kane found her. I don’t know the details. He’s writing up a report—there’s a process RCK uses for these sorts of things.” She was deliberately vague. “I’m with Sam Archer. She told me about your assignment. It’s Nicole.”

  “Well, fuck, Lucy. You took my thunder.”

  “How did you figure it out?”

  “When this big black guy handed me a DVD. He said, ‘Watch it.’ Then he left.”

  Ranger. It had to be. Kane must have known exactly what was on those DVDs.

  “And?”

  “Sanchez or whoever had those disks must have been blackmailing her. She killed a drug dealer in San Antonio five years ago. Took his money and drugs. Don’t know what happened to them, but the murder and theft is all on tape. She flashed her badge, he was unarmed, and she shot him.”

  Sam took the phone from Lucy and listened to Ryan repeat the information. Sam said, “She’s at the DEA office right now. I have her doing a mountain of paperwork.” She listened, then said, “Thank you, Ryan. I honestly couldn’t have done this without you.”

  She handed the phone back to Lucy. Ryan said, “Lucy, I’m on my way to the office. I thought you might want to be part of the takedown.”

  “You earned it, Ryan. I did nothing.”

  “But you told me it was her. Just now.”

  “On a hunch. I didn’t have the proof, you do. You have backup?”

  “Juan sent Nate and Kenzie down; they’re with me now. We’ll get her. Let me know how Brad’s doing.”

  “I will.”

  “Juan wants you back ASAP.”

  “I know. I’m in trouble.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. But Lucy? Don’t lie to me again.”

  He hung up.

  She stared at the phone. How had he known?

  * * *

  Lucy walked into Brad’s room after Sam Archer left to deal with the fallout of the Nicole Rollins situation. He was sleeping. His head and chest were bandaged, and both arms were in casts. His face was severely bruised.

  He opened his eyes. One eye. The other was swollen shut. “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.” She sat next to him. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

  “Thank you.” His voice was thick.

  She bit her lip. “About that.”

  “Shh.” He took a shallow breath. “I understand. Ranger and Kane rescued me.” He stared at her with his one good eye. “But I will never forget it was you. I owe you my life.”

  “No. We’re on the same team.”

  “Not everyone.”

  “Sam told you.”

  He shut his eye. “I should have seen it.”

  “She was good.”

  “Good at being bad.”

  “We’ll talk later.” She started to walk away.

  “Lucy?”

  She looked over her shoulder.

  “Don’t say a word.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “I see it in your eyes. Guilt. Because of the story. No guilt. No regrets. Ranger told me about the boys. Remember, there are more people who need our help. And sometimes, rules get in the way.”

  She left, closing the door softly behind her. Rules. What did she believe in anymore? She took the elevator to the lobby, where she found Sean.

  “Where’s Padre?”

  “He’s staying with the boys,” Sean said. “Bella’s going to get a plane ride to San Antonio in a bit. The FBI is taking custody—two agents from the McAllen office will be with her at all times.”

  “They’re
going to interrogate her.” Bella was seven. Convincing a child to lie—Lucy felt awful even asking her to do it. She didn’t know if the girl would hold up.

  “She says Michael saved her and a man called Kane. That’s all she knows. They’re not going to grill her. I think she might have already convinced herself you weren’t even there.”

  Tears sprang to Lucy’s eyes.

  “Hey, princess.” Sean pulled her into a tight embrace. “Don’t cry. It’s all going to be fine. Kane is a rock.”

  “Not that. I don’t care about my job. I mean I do, but I wouldn’t have done anything different. It’s—everything. Michael. Bella. The boys. The dead.”

  “Padre is a good man. He’s working on a plan. They’ll be taken care of, given any help they need.” Sean kissed her forehead. “And I’m going to take care of you.”

  “I want to see Michael before we go.”

  * * *

  Several of the boys panicked when the hospital wanted to separate them, so Padre convinced the nurses to move patients around so that the eight boys—the seven they rescued and Michael—could be in the same pediatric room. The rooms fit only six so they moved in two extra beds.

  They were all sleeping, given sedatives and IVs. They were malnourished, dehydrated, and Tito had a severe infection. He was the only boy not in the room, because he was in surgery. One of the young nurses was crying softly at the nurses’ station.

  Michael refused a sedative. Padre was sitting with him, and they both were keeping watch over the others.

  Lucy approached and Padre stood up. “Lucy, would you mind sitting while I take a walk?”

  She shook her head and sat in the chair he vacated. Padre left. She looked at the boys. So small, so defeated. It wasn’t just a few people who were heartless and cruel; it was dozens. The people in the town that Trejo bought. The boys who’d grown up and punished the new boys. Nicole Rollins and Charlie DeSantos knowing what was happening and not caring. Not only not caring, but sending more boys down to suffer. To be broken.

  Michael said, “Padre explained how much trouble you could be in if anyone knew you helped.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry to ask you to lie.”

  “I think it’s stupid. You saved everyone and they would fire you for it.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “It’s dumb.”

  “That, too.” She smiled, mostly so she didn’t cry.

  “I feel better,” he said.

  “Good.”

  “I killed him.”

  “I know.”

  She’d seen Trejo’s bullet-ridden body. She’d taken her empty gun from Michael’s grip and given it to Kane to destroy. If Trejo’s body was found and the forensics analyzed, she couldn’t have it traced back to her.

  “Did you feel better when you killed that man?”

  She didn’t have to ask what he meant; she’d told him about Trask.

  She wasn’t going to lie to him.

  “Yes. He hurt me in much the way the general hurt you.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I felt safer with Trask dead. But it also gave me pain, because I wanted to feel bad about taking a human life, and I didn’t. Not him. It took me a long time not to see myself as a cold-hearted killer. I’m not the same girl. I don’t want you to grow up thinking you’ll be the same in ten years. You won’t be. But I’m not worried.”

  “Why?” His voice cracked.

  “Because you protected Bella over seeking revenge. And you can still cry.”

  She hugged him and they both cried.

  CHAPTER 37

  Lucy sat in Juan Casilla’s office at seven o’clock Friday morning.

  “I’m placing you on unpaid administrative leave,” he said.

  “I understand,” she said. She forced herself to sit rigid in her chair, her hands clasped in her lap.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No one knew where you were on Thursday until you showed up at the hospital with eight kidnapped children. You didn’t answer your phone. You didn’t call in.”

  “I made a mistake.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Lucy.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “You don’t think you did anything wrong, do you?”

  “I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

  He didn’t say anything for a long, long time. So long that Lucy started to fidget. She forced herself to freeze again.

  “I read Brad Donnelly’s report about what happened at Vasco Trejo’s complex,” Juan said. “Two mercenaries, with Michael Rodriguez, stormed the compound, rescued Bella Borez, took out an unknown number of guards including Jaime Sanchez, then escaped. One mercenary flew out with Donnelly in a stolen helicopter, and then the other—someone you know very well—drove the two children back across the border, undetected, with a truckload of weapons that had been stolen from six murdered Marines five months ago.”

  He continued. “I also read an official RCK report about the operation, prepared by Kane Rogan, stating that he went down to Mexico with four other men—three employed by RCK and one a local priest—and the young Michael Rodriguez. They rescued seven minor American citizens and three of the men took them on a plane back across the border, to where you and Sean were waiting. Kane and the other mercenary, with Michael, went to Trejo’s compound.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You let a minor child go with trained soldiers into a dangerous and hostile situation.”

  “Sir, he knew where the boys were and the location of Trejo’s house.”

  “You should have given me the information. You violated the law, not to mention ethics. And truly, the only reason you’re not being fired is because of those children. It would be hard to fire you when those boys see you as a hero.”

  “Sir, if I’d gone through proper channels instead of alerting Kane to the situation, Brad Donnelly would be dead.”

  “Maybe.”

  “He would be.”

  “How do you know? Were you there?” He stared at her. He knew. She saw it in his eyes. It took all her willpower not to tell him the entire truth.

  She bit the inside of her cheek. “I saw the same report.”

  “Cut the bullshit, Lucy.”

  Her eyes widened. Juan Casilla didn’t swear. Ever.

  “I know damn well you went with them. And everyone is protecting you. I want to fire you because you scared me. But I had to step back and think why? Why was I scared when I send my team into dangerous situations all the time? I worry, but as a supervisor. This was different.” He paused, the tendons in his neck vibrating. But he calmed his voice down. It obviously took him great effort to keep his emotions in check. “In three months, you’ve been to my house more than any other agent on my squad. My wife and children adore both you and Sean. You fit in with my family, maybe because you grew up in a big, happy Hispanic family. But I’ve read your files, Lucy. As your supervisor, I had to. I knew when you were assigned to me that it wasn’t going to be easy. You don’t think about yourself. That can be a great asset, but not if it gets you killed. And that’s why I was scared.”

  She didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry didn’t seem appropriate. Because she wasn’t.

  Except she was sorry that she’d scared a man she respected and admired. He didn’t deserve that.

  “Juan,” she said, her voice not sounding like her own, “if you want my resignation, I’ll give it to you.”

  “I need you to take a break. Two weeks. Unpaid administrative leave. And I suggest you use that time to make it up to Ryan. He’s hurt and angry and has every reason to be.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You can go.”

  She left, her chest tight, her stomach threatening to toss the single cup of coffee she’d forced down before she came.

  She sat behind the wheel of her car for a long time. It physically hurt that she’d disappointed Juan. She liked and admired him so much. And she owed Ryan more than
an apology.

  She didn’t regret anything she’d done, but she regretted not finding a way to alert her team that she was okay. Maybe there would have been a way … but admitting to the truth? That would put Brad, Kane, and the others in jeopardy. Juan thought they were lying to protect her, but he couldn’t prove it. She couldn’t risk Brad’s career, Kane’s status, or anyone, because they did it for her.

  She hated that she’d put Juan in that position. She had mixed feelings about what she’d said and done—and about lying. She wasn’t good at it. Obviously, because Juan read her like a book. All this could come back to haunt her.

  But she wouldn’t have changed anything.

  With a sad heart, she drove home.

  CHAPTER 38

  When the front bell rang, Sean was surprised to see Kane on the security screen. He took the stairs down two at a time and opened the door to his brother.

  “Kane. Come in.”

  Kane looked uncomfortable standing in Sean’s large two-story entry. He looked up at the wide, curving staircase, then behind it to the deep, sunken living room. Sean hugged him. That seemed to make him even more uncomfortable.

  “I can’t stay.”

  “Okay. Let’s go to the kitchen.” Sean led the way. He grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and put them on the center island. He took a seat and motioned for his brother to do the same.

  Kane took a long drink from the bottle. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “We’re good.”

  “I heard Lucy was put on administrative leave.”

  “Two weeks.”

  “She around?”

  “Soon. She stopped by Saint Catherine’s with Father Flannigan.”

  “Padre told me what you did.”

  “What did I do?”

  “Bought that house, next to the church. For the boys.”

  Sean shrugged. “No big.” He drank heavily. He’d been doing that a lot this week, since coming back from the prison. He’d never forget what happened there. He wanted to, and then felt guilty for wanting to forget. Those boys had suffered for months, two of them for over a year. Buying a damn house for eight broken boys was small beans compared with what they’d been through.