by V. K. Powell
“No problem.” As Carl Torre walked away she visualized him covered in snakeskin, crawling on his belly. Maybe it was the fact that he might be an arms dealer or the questionable tactics he’d suggested Abby use to ensure her cooperation. Either way, she didn’t want Abby around him any more than absolutely necessary. It was time to put a period on this case.
She turned down the alley off Elm Street that led to Loaf. After her encounter with Carl, she needed something to get the sour taste out of her mouth. Not exactly breakfast food, but she settled on a fresh lemon meringue cupcake and a nonfat latte. She sat at one of the small bistro tables outside, admiring the iron artwork and dazzling wall murals. The bright colors and creative arrangements immediately lifted her spirits as she enjoyed every morsel of the sweet treat and reviewed her plan for the day.
She needed to talk to Vi about the surveillance cameras, make sure she had access and everything backed up on computer. They needed the cameras in place long enough to figure out the dealer’s next move. Then the pictures she had of the guns, though illegally obtained, combined with the outside shots from Vi’s surveillance and the information from Abby’s new bookkeeper, should be enough for a search warrant. Even if the warrant was flimsy and the case was thrown out, at least the guns would be off the street.
As she scraped the crumbs of the cupcake from its paper wrapper and licked her fingers, Loane reflected on how convoluted and fragmented this case was. She’d gone about it backward, working from the inside out and trying to piece together evidence as she rebuilt a relationship. Procedures and rules worked better for her, gave her a roadmap. She’d even forgotten to ask Vi and Abby if they knew each other. Draining the dregs of her latte, she tried to convince herself she’d made the right choice between breakfast and Abby. A dozen cupcakes couldn’t right that wrong. But it was too late to change her mind.
She reached for her cell and called Vi, got her voice mail, and left a message. As she walked back to the condo, Loane wondered what Vi did all day. She seemed to prefer the nighttime hours for prowling and annoying her. And what about her friend, June Lennon? What had happened to her, and what would happen to Vi once this case was over?
After a quick shower and change of clothes, she drove back to Gate City Storage to get the renter’s name of the storage unit. A judge or magistrate would require that for a search warrant. Besides, June might have rented the unit in someone else’s name. If possible she wanted to keep Vi out of the official investigation. She might be the president’s bastard stepchild or a street urchin with no credibility. Either way, they’d both be protected if she verified all details herself.
When she pulled into the lot at the storage facility, she saw the owner’s white Miata parked outside. They’d gotten along well last time, and she was hoping for a little more cooperation.
“Good morning, Ms. Hiatt.” As Loane entered the office, the silver-haired woman rose to shake hands. Her clear blue gaze held Loane’s in a look of total confidence. This was a woman she could be friends with under other circumstances. “Remember me?”
“Tori, please. Of course I remember, the renter who wasn’t.”
“Busted. I’m Loane Landry with the Greensboro Police Department. Sorry about last time. I didn’t have enough information to ask the right questions.”
“And now you do.”
“Exactly.”
“Am I allowed to ask what this is about? I have other customers to protect if this involves something dangerous or hazardous to lives or property.”
She evaluated the woman before her, deciding how many details to disclose. Tori Hiatt’s concern for the welfare of others indicated not only empathy but also integrity and character. “I believe someone is storing illegal guns in one of your units.”
“On the back side.”
Loane cocked her head in question. “How did—”
“That was the area you were most interested in last time, not the area where I actually had available units.” Smart and observant too.
“Yes, unit twenty. I was wondering if I could get the name of the renter.”
Without hesitation, Tori sat down at her desk and pulled out a handful of files. “I can’t do that, privacy issues, you understand. It would be a violation of my customers’ trust. Do you have a possible name?”
“June Lennon, though I don’t believe she’s involved. I think someone has taken over the space without her knowledge.”
Tori flipped through several pages and pulled one out, placing it neatly on top of the stack. “As I said, I can’t tell you who rented the space.” As she spoke, she nodded in affirmation.
“I understand completely…and thank you. Please keep what I’ve told you in strictest confidence. This investigation has already cost three people their lives.”
“You have my word.” Loane had no doubt it was golden.
On her way downtown, Loane’s cell rang and she looked at the caller ID: Unknown. “Hello.”
“Have I ever told you how much I hate waking up in a cold bed? The only thing worse is waking up on a cold, hard floor.” Abby’s sexy voice was like fire coursing through her.
“Um…I don’t believe so.”
“Well, I absolutely hate it, especially after being away from you for so long. Can you come back?”
The temptation of Abby waiting in bed for her was almost too much. For the second time this morning, she thought about scrapping her entire day and spending it with Abby, in bed or out. “Wish I could, but I’m running down leads. Rain check?”
“Sorry, I’m pushing. I miss you.”
“I know.” She hated the disappointment in Abby’s voice. “But the sooner we close this case, the sooner we’ll have time for…other things. By the way, your boss is expecting a phone call.”
“Which one? I feel like I’m buried under a tier of bosses, each requiring a more complicated layer of lies.” Abby sounded tired and strained. She’d been pretending to be someone else for almost two years, skirting the edges of criminality, maintaining tenuous loyalties without the support of friends or family. Loane could only imagine what that sacrifice required of her. Loane had struggled to isolate herself for only a few months, missing the camaraderie of the department and her support group.
“Carl.”
“When did you see him?”
“Ran into him on my way for coffee this morning. I sort of led him to believe we had sex last night…hope that’s okay. It seemed to be what he wanted.”
“That’s exactly what he expected. I’ll call him later. At least he’s on his way back to Miami.”
“Can we get together with your bookkeeper sometime today?”
“That’s why I called. She’s waiting for us at the office. It’s best to do it early before Ray or Tiny shows up. Can you meet us?”
“On my way.”
“See you soon…I love you, Loane.”
Loane’s breath caught in her throat. Abby’s easy expression of her feelings always took her by surprise. She started to say something in return. What, she wasn’t sure. Before she could decide, the moment passed and Abby hung up. Why was it so hard to say those three little words?
When she pulled in behind the Sky Bar and entered the back, she heard voices from a room to the left and pushed open the door. Abby sat beside a redhead with her arm around the back of her chair. A flash of jealousy streaked through her and took her by surprise. She’d never imagined Abby with anyone else, never even heard her speak of another woman with affection. The feelings she was having now convinced her that she never wanted to. She composed herself and cleared her throat. When the two women turned to face her, she felt her mouth drop open. “You?”
“Dude!”
Abby looked back and forth between the young woman and Loane. The small space was quiet for several seconds. “You two know each other?”
“Sort of, but not exactly.” Her assistant rose, walked toward Loane, and extended her hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Kinsey Easton.”
<
br /> Loane struggled to find her voice as Kinsey’s hand hung in the air between them. “Kinsey Easton? You’re Abby’s new financial wizard?”
Now it was Kinsey’s turn to be surprised. “Abby?” She turned back toward her boss. “That’s your real name?”
“What did you think it was, Vi?” Loane asked.
“I always called her M. This is your Abby? The dead chick?”
Abby’s head swiveled like she was watching a tennis match. “Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on? Who’s Vi? How do you know each other?”
“Abby, this is Vi,” Loane said.
“Your street urchin?”
Loane nodded. “And apparently your go-to person as well.”
Kinsey smiled. “Yep, that’s me. A woman for all reasons and all seasons.” She waved her hands between Loane and Abby. “And I can’t believe this. You two. Dude, this is the woman I wanted to introduce you to. Should’ve known you’d be way ahead of me on that one.”
“Enough,” Loane said.
“But the way you described Vi, I thought she was a…” Abby faltered.
“A destitute waif? Me too. She looks quite different as Vi. That hair of hers is more flame than subtle red, her ears and lips are covered with piercings, her clothes vintage homeless, and her language is just shy of indecipherable street jargon.”
“No need to insult,” Kinsey said. Her whole demeanor changed as if she’d flipped a switch in a dark room, and when she spoke her voice took on a refined air. “Perhaps you prefer an educated individual? Would you be more inclined to trust me if I sounded upper-class?” Her tone was confident, words distinctly pronounced with a hint of wealthy arrogance.
Loane couldn’t suppress a grin of admiration. “Perfection. Where did you learn that?”
“Years of being shipped from one private school to another by a mother who didn’t want me around.” Kinsey’s tone held equal parts bitterness and sadness.
“I assume Vi is responsible for the transformation of your appearance,” Abby said.
Kinsey nodded. “Guilty. She had to fit in.”
“Why do you call yourself Vi?” Abby asked.
“I’m a computer nerd. It’s short for virus. Everybody either wants one or needs to get rid of one. It’s how I make a very comfortable living.”
“You mean you’re not homeless or destitute?”
Kinsey shook her head as if Loane was totally clueless.
It was almost too much for her to fathom. The kid she’d encountered in the streets stood transformed as a young professional woman—smartly dressed, impressively intelligent and mature. She’d been working both sides of the case to find her friend. Vi skulked around in the dark unnoticed, scooping up tidbits of information that people dropped without a thought in front of a nonthreatening street child, while Kinsey Easton collected financial data and electronic surveillance from inside the organization. Even her altered looks served her two personas brilliantly.
“Well, this certainly is a surprise…and quite fortuitous. Everybody is obviously up to speed on everything,” Abby said. “So, why don’t we put our heads together and make a plan.”
Loane pulled up a chair and listened as Kinsey explained what she’d found on the computer. The deposits into the shadow account coincided with dates on which there were transfers of personnel or equipment to the Torre clubs in upstate New York. Withdrawals overlapped with dates that shipments came from Miami. The pattern went back several years, with deposits toward the end of the month and withdrawals in the middle. Unfortunately, the records didn’t indicate what goods or services were being exchanged for the money—nothing to tie in the guns.
“Numbers only go so far,” Kinsey concluded as she closed the program.
“That leaves us one choice,” Loane said.
“I won’t like this, will I?” Abby asked as she scooted closer to her.
“Probably not, but I need to follow this shipment of guns, tomorrow or the next day, wherever it goes.”
“No!” Abby’s tone got Loane and Kinsey’s full attention. “I won’t have it.”
“Oh, oh, a lover’s spat.” Kinsey bounced like a kid at the movies.
“Shut up, Kinsey, Vi,” Abby and Loane said at once.
Abby patted Loane’s hand where it rested on her lap. “I can’t let you do that. This is my case and I have to see it through. You know the reasons why.”
“And you can, but you’ve got to keep up appearances here without raising suspicion. I have more freedom if we go out of state.”
“And less jurisdiction. Do I need to remind you that you aren’t actively a police officer?”
“She’s got you there, Dude,” Kinsey interjected.
Loane gave her another sharp stare before returning her attention to Abby. “Just because you’re ATF—”
“AT freaking F?” Kinsey practically vibrated in her chair. “How cool is that? Obviously we’re not all up to speed. I had no idea.” She looked at Loane and shrugged. “She’s definitely got you now. ATF trumps local cops any day.”
“Please be quiet,” Loane said.
“Loane, what’s the worst that can happen? They’ve already killed me once.”
“Exactly. I wouldn’t make it if anything else happened to you, Abby.”
“I have an idea,” Kinsey offered.
Loane wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what Kinsey was about to suggest, but she and Abby seemed at an impasse. “Fine, go ahead.”
“What if nobody goes all James Bond? I can attach a tracking device to the van and voilà. We’ll know where they are at all times.”
Abby shook her head. “We need a warrant for that.”
“It’ll be a backup,” Loane said. “We’re following them anyway.”
“But we’ll still need verification that there’s an exchange of weapons for money. Without it, the case is no good,” Abby said.
Loane skimmed her gloved hand over her close-cut hair. “Agreed.”
“Then we do it together.” Abby was staring directly at Loane. “No compromise on this.”
Kinsey grinned at Loane, her green eyes sparkling with humor.
“What?”
“I’m loving the hell out of this,” Kinsey said. “Waiting to see who wears the pants—big bad A-lone or sweet, sexy Abby.”
“Shut up, Kinsey,” Loane and Abby said again in unison.
Loane didn’t want to attempt any further negotiations with Abby at the moment. Perhaps she’d have more luck in private. “Kinsey, how soon can you get the tracking device in place?”
“As soon as I know which vehicle they’ll be using.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out a contraption that rested in the palm of her hand. “Have gadgets, will travel.”
“They’ll probably take the same van I drove up from Miami,” Abby said. “It’s parked out back most of the time, unless Ray needs it for liquor runs.”
“Then I’ll do it tonight since there’s only two more days in the month. Is that cool with everybody?”
Loane and Abby nodded agreement.
“One more thing,” Loane said. “Take the cameras off the storage unit as soon as we confirm they’ve loaded the guns. Are you sure that little thing,” she pointed to the device in Kinsey’s hand, “will work?”
“Absolutely, top of the line.” She ran her fingers around the touch pad on her laptop and turned the device on. “That little dot is what you’ll follow. You can monitor it on your phone once I’ve downloaded the app, like the video feed from the camera.” Loane handed her cell over and watched in amazement how quickly she updated and returned the phone. “Done.” The dot on her screen flashed on a map of downtown.
“You’re quite something, Kinsey Easton,” Loane said with more than a touch of pride. She’d grown attached to the young woman and was pleased she wasn’t a poor, homeless runaway. “Easton, Easton.” She repeated the name, letting it settle in her mind, certain it should ring a bell. “Why does that sound so familiar?”<
br />
Kinsey squirmed and returned her attention to her laptop. “There was an oldies rocker named Easton, before my time. Maybe my mother had a soft spot for her music.”
“Your mother. Your mother.” Loane rummaged through the articles and information she’d read about anyone local named Easton. The result was a stunner. “Councilwoman Brenda Easton Jeffries? You’re Kinsey Easton Jeffries.” The truth was all over Kinsey’s blanched face. Loane felt the noose tighten around her neck. “And you didn’t think that was worth mentioning?”
Kinsey straightened in her chair as if summoning all her courage and tenacity. “My mother has nothing to do with me or my life.”
“It must be great to be so young and naïve. This will definitely come back to bite me on the ass. I’m the one conducting an unsanctioned investigation using questionable tactics involving an ATF agent and a councilwoman’s daughter. And I didn’t bother to check my sources.”
“Sorry, Loane,” Kinsey said.
“It’s not your fault. I fell short again.”
Loane pushed out of her chair and headed for the door without looking back. Vi had promised that she could be trusted, and Loane believed her. But she was a kid who’d grown up without the love and support of her parents. Instead of the customary annoyance Loane expected, she felt only disappointment and deep sadness. She’d grown very fond of Vi, but now their relationship seemed tainted. She’d have to question everything about Kinsey and each encounter they’d had. Once again, she’d failed to go the extra mile. The trust she’d so freely given might place Abby in greater jeopardy.
Chapter Eighteen
“Wow, is she always that intense?” Kinsey asked as Loane exited and closed the door without a sound.
“In this case, don’t you think she has reason?” Abby tried to keep the censure out of her voice. She wanted to understand Kinsey’s motivation and determine the extent of damage to Loane’s confidence and the investigation.
“What do you mean?”
She rolled her chair closer to Kinsey, forcing a neutral expression. “Think about what she’s been through. She thought I was dead. The department abandoned her. She left her job and was so desperate she turned to a street kid for help. She trusted you without ever checking you out. Am I right?” Kinsey nodded. “Loane doesn’t do that easily.”
