by Lois Winston
She stopped and gazed up at R.J. “You have to make this fast.”
He folded his arms over his big chest. “I just drove three hours to have a conversation with you.”
“This isn’t a good time, R.J. I can’t explain everything, but—”
“Fine, I’ll make it quick. Are you back together with your ex?”
“No.”
“What was it? A one-night stand?”
“No! It was nothing. Just a stupid reporter who made up the story.”
“He didn’t make up the picture of you two having dinner.”
The fury she’d felt with Dave was back again. “Scarlet was there. She was cut out of the picture. Really, it’s nothing.” She felt butterflies in her stomach. There was something in his look. “Why are you really here, R.J.?”
He gazed down at her, and she knew. She knew the reason, even if he wouldn’t say it.
He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m worried about you.”
“Why?” The butterflies in her stomach were going crazy now.
“This guy hurt you. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“There is no this, I told you. That story wasn’t real.”
He stared at her and she couldn’t read him, as much as she wanted to. He looked like a protective older brother, but maybe there was more to it. The way he looked at her ... There was nothing brotherly about his gaze.
I just drove three hours to have a conversation with you.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, and she didn’t have time to analyze it now.
“Listen, I can’t explain everything because I’m in kind of a jam right now and—”
“What is it?” His brow furrowed and his entire muscle-bound body went on alert.
“It’s work-related. This case is a mess, and me standing out here with you is making things worse and—”
“Oh, yoo-hoo!”
They turned to see Scarlet trudging down the steps of the deck, a phony smile plastered on her face. Krista could tell she was pissed.
“R.J., so glad you’re here. Perfect timing, as always.” She rolled her eyes at Krista, her jaw tightly clenched. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve had a few changes to the plan.”
“What plan?” R.J. asked.
“What happened, Scarlet?” Krista asked.
She stopped beside them, hands on hips. “While you two were having your little pow-wow over here, Chad went on his lunch break.”
“Shit.”
“Who’s Chad?” R.J. wanted to know.
Krista checked her watch. “Where’s Adam?”
“I took him upstairs to sit tight with Dave. He doesn’t have the jacket, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Who’s Dave?” R.J. growled.
“Time for plan B,” Scarlet said, looking at Krista.
“Which is what?”
“I’m still working on it.” Scarlet punched R.J. in the arm. He frowned and Krista noted that he almost rubbed his bicep. “And since you screwed everything up, Mr. Flynn, you get to help.”
~*~
The Harrison-McKinley wedding was in full swing when Scarlet took a seat at the bar.
“Tanqueray and tonic with a twist.” She set her purse on the counter and looked at Krista. “What? We should relax. We’re on vacation.”
Krista snorted.
“We at least have to look like we are.”
“I’ll have a white wine spritzer,” Krista told the bartender.
Scarlet shook her head as Krista pulled out her phone. “Okay, R.J. just texted me,” Krista said. “Everything’s in place.”
“How’s my app working?” Scarlet asked. She didn’t like lending anyone her phone, but it was part of the plan. She’d downloaded an app that fed footage from the security camera that Krista had hidden in Chad’s room directly to her phone in real time.
“I assume it’s working fine, or he would have said something.” Krista checked her watch. “Now we just need Adam.”
“And Chad,” Scarlet murmured.
Krista shot her a warning look and turned in her stool to look out over the restaurant, where wedding guests were clustered around tables eating fancy canapés. Half of the room had been set up with a jazz quartet and dance floor, and a few festive couples were already out there.
“Where is he?” Krista whispered to Scarlet.
Scarlet assumed she meant Chad. “He offered to bus tables. He should be here by now.”
The bartender appeared with their drinks, and Scarlet beamed a smile at him. “Vince, you did say your friend Chad was planning to work tonight, right?” She nudged Krista with her elbow. “Krista was just wondering.”
Vince smiled. “He’s just taking a quick break.” He nodded at Krista. “I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”
Krista gave a coy smile and picked up her wine. “Thanks.”
Vince disappeared, and Scarlet scanned the guests, looking for any familiar faces that might throw a wrench in their new scheme. Ever since R.J.’s unexpected appearance, Scarlet was paranoid. But she was pretty sure they had everything covered. Dave had agreed to take Trina into town for dinner to get her out of the way—and he hadn’t even made Scarlet explain why. Scarlet had been beyond pissed this afternoon when their plan had fallen apart when R.J. had gone all macho-alpha-jealous-male and driven three hours to see Krista, so maybe Dave had read her body language and decided not to mess with her. Smart man.
“There’s Adam,” Krista whispered. “But I still don’t see Chad.”
Scarlet turned on her stool to see Adam stepping into the bar, once again wearing his leather bomber jacket.
“Hey.” He came up and gave them each a kiss on the cheek. “You guys started without me, huh?”
“Sorry,” Krista said brightly. “Couldn’t wait.”
Adam shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a coat rack near the bar, then signaled the bartender. “I’ll have a bourbon, straight up.”
Krista shot him a look.
“Or... make that a Heineken. In the bottle’s fine.”
He took a seat next to Krista, and Scarlet watched with amusement as he draped a hand over her shoulders. He seemed much more at ease now than he had earlier when Plan A fell apart.
“How’s it going, Kay?”
“Fine.”
“Looks like a fun wedding,” he said. “Anyone seen Tiffany?”
“She was with some of the bridesmaids a minute ago,” Scarlet said. “Maybe she’s on the deck?”
Adam’s beer arrived and he smiled at the bartender. “Put it on my room, will you? I’ll get the round.”
“Yes, sir.”
Krista pulled out her phone and checked a text then gave Scarlet a slight nod.
“Oh, hey, there she is, Adam.” Scarlet nodded toward the far side of the room. “Over by the buffet table. See her?”
Adam sipped his beer. “I’m going to go say hi.”
And with that, he left.
Krista and Scarlet made chitchat for another few minutes and finished their drinks before going back up to the suite. No sooner had they stepped off the elevator than Krista got a text.
“He took the bait,” Krista said excitedly.
“Perfect. Where’s Adam?”
“He said he’s going to stay down for a while, give Blake plenty of time.”
Scarlet unzipped the stylish black boots she’d been wearing in the bar and shoved her feet into snow boots. Krista ran into the bedroom.
“Come on, let’s go.”
“I’m coming.” Krista hurried out and tossed Scarlet her ski jacket.
They rushed down the back stairwell and slipped out a side door. The sidewalk around the lodge was blanketed with a fresh layer of snow, and Scarlet glanced up at the sky with a scowl.
“It’s still coming down.”
“Nothing we can do about it,” Krista said, hurrying around the lodge to the parking garage and staff housing.
R.J. was waiting for them at the back door. They slipped inside and immediately followed him into a dim stairwell. It was a secondary staircase, not the main one, but he corralled them into a corner where they wouldn’t be seen by someone coming down.
“Is he here?” Krista whispered.
“Got here two minutes ago.” R.J. took out Scarlet’s phone and pulled up her surveillance app. The black-and-white camera footage showed a bird’s eye view of Blake’s room. Or rather, the room that was supposed to be Chad’s. Blake tossed Adam’s jacket on the bed and walked to the closet. R.J. handed Scarlet the phone as they all leaned closer.
“What’s he doing?” Scarlet asked, frowning at the image. “Is he taking a shower?” Blake was stripping off his shirt and tie. He tossed the clothes on the bed, then grabbed a T-shirt from a duffle bag and pulled it over his head.
“He’s getting ready to go somewhere,” R.J. said.
“But has he even checked the jacket yet?” Krista looked at him.
“No. He must be really confident Adam doesn’t know about the diamonds.”
They watched, riveted, as Blake pulled out his phone and checked a message. Then he put the phone down and spread the jacket open.
“Here he goes.” Krista squeezed Scarlet’s arm.
He touched the lining, going directly to the place where the stones had been hidden. Adam had had the surprising brainstorm to sew pebbles under the fleece lining to make it feel like the diamonds were still there.
Scarlet watched, holding her breath. Everyone was counting on the fact that he’d transfer the jewels to another hiding place so he could leave with them. No one thought he was brazen enough to waltz out of the lodge with a stolen jacket someone might recognize.
“What’s in his hand?” Krista looked at Scarlet.
“Pocketknife.”
R.J. reached under his jacket and pulled out a Glock.
“Hey,” Krista said. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”
“I make it up as I go.” He headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
“R.J.!” Krista hissed. She looked at Scarlet. “We said no guns.”
“It’s just a prop,” Scarlet said. At least she figured he was using it as a prop, because it was a real Glock. She turned her attention back to the screen as Blake made a slice down the center of the jacket lining.
He stepped back.
For a moment he didn’t move.
Then his hands went to his head and he looked to be tearing out his hair. He turned and punched the wall.
“Ouch,” Scarlet said.
“He looks pissed.”
Blake reached for his phone and then whirled around as someone burst into the room. In a heartbeat, R.J. had him face-down on the floor with his hands behind him. It was a lightning-fast maneuver he’d perfected doing hundreds of skip traces.
“Nice takedown.” Scarlet smiled at Krista. “You have to admit, you love to watch him work.”
~*~
When Scarlet and Krista reached the room, Blake was cuffed to the towel rack in the bathroom, where he was kicking the wall and cursing a blue streak. He was also crying—big sloppy man-tears that streamed down his flushed cheeks. Scarlet didn’t feel sorry for him a bit.
“I’m fucking dead, man! You can’t do this to me!”
“You did this to yourself.” R.J. finished frisking him and tossed his wallet on the floor. “Check that,” he told Krista as she stepped into the room.
Blake whirled. “You! I should have known it was you. You’re going to get me killed, you little bitch.”
R.J. slammed him against the wall. “Hey. Watch your mouth.”
“You don’t understand. These guys are brutal. I make the drop tonight or I’m dead!”
The tears started up again, and R.J. stepped back, shooting Krista a look as he moved past them into the bedroom. “Stay away from him.”
Scarlet stayed out of kicking range as she entered the room and pulled the door shut behind her. It wouldn’t shut properly because R.J. had kicked it in, but at least it provided a noise buffer.
Krista was crouched on the floor, going through Blake’s wallet. Scarlet joined R.J. near the bed to check out the cell phone.
“Looks like he called someone ten minutes ago. Must have been while he was walking over here.” He sidestepped Scarlet and went back to Blake.
“What time’s the drop?” R.J. demanded.
“Please. You have to listen to me. I need the diamonds back.” Snot was streaming out of his nose, but he was clearly struggling to pull himself together. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me have the stones.”
“The drop. What time?”
“Ten.”
Scarlet checked her watch. “Damn, that’s in ninety minutes.”
No doubt the feds would want a shot at these smugglers, whoever they were. Blake Johnson was clearly just a mule, and not a very good one at that. But getting a police presence anywhere in ninety minutes... no matter how important these guys were, it was a tall order.
“That’s tough,” Krista said, and Scarlet knew she’d been following the same train of thought. “They’d have no time to scout the location. And that’s assuming they believe everything we say without question.”
Scarlet stepped closer. “Where’s this happening?”
Blake looked at the three people teamed up against him and started blubbering again.
“You guys, I’m dead, don’t you understand? I’m dead unless you let me out of here.” He looked at Krista. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“You did this to you.”
“You don’t understand! You’re going to get me killed, you fucking cunt—”
R.J. punched him, and his head snapped back against the wall with a crack. He slumped to the floor, still dangling by his cuffed wrist.
R.J. hauled him to his feet and pinned his forearm against his neck. “You’re getting on my nerves here, Blake. Now, answer the question. Where is the drop?”
“I don’t know. I have to confirm I have the stones and they’ll give me the location.”
R.J. held up his phone. “You’re going to call. And you’re going to make it good, too. No more crybaby shit.”
Blake went still. He looked from R.J. to Scarlet. He didn’t even dare look at Krista. And he seemed to realize his only choice was to cooperate.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Smart move.” Scarlet nodded. “Make sure you do it right, or we walk out this door and never look back.”
R.J. held up the phone. “What’s the number?”
“The last one I called.” He wiped his snotty nose on his shoulder. “Phoenix area code.”
Scarlet looked at Krista. Phoenix wasn’t good. They’d been hoping for a local connection so they’d have an in with the police. But it was what it was.
R.J. tapped the number and held the phone under Blake’s nose as the call went through. Someone picked up but didn’t say anything.
“Yo, you there?” Blake’s voice was strained but clear. “Hello?”
A grunt.
“I’ve got the keg. Where’s the party?”
“Northeast corner of Sullivan Park in San Bernardino.”
Scarlet looked at Krista.
“Okay, see you there.”
R.J. clicked off and pocketed the phone. He gave Blake a stony look. “How’s this go down? These guys know you?”
“They’ve never met me. I’m just supposed to drop a beer can on the street and take off. End of story.”
R.J. gave him a hard stare. He looked at Scarlet and Krista, and they followed him deep into the bedroom where they huddled beside the window.
“We might be able to get someone in place,” Scarlet said in a low voice. “I’ll call my brother. But getting down there’s going to be a haul.”
“The snow’s stopped,” Krista said. “I can make it in the Jeep if I leave now. You think John will help us?”
“He’ll definitely help us. And he knows I’ve
got something brewing right now, because I told him to be on standby. The question is whether we can get there in time. Someone’s going to have to at least attempt to make a drop if we want to lure anyone into taking it.”
Krista checked her watch. “You work out the logistics with John, and then call me on the road.”
“Hold on there, Speed Racer.” R.J. looked at her. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ll make the drop.”
“No way.”
“Way. They’re expecting a man, not a woman.”
“He’s right,” Scarlet said.
Krista glared at her, then at R.J. “This isn’t even your case, R.J. We didn’t need your help—we just asked you because you were here.”
“You wanted my help, you got it.”
“R.J.—”
“Too late now, babe. I’m in.”
~*~
Krista checked her watch for the hundredth time and for the hundredth time glanced at her phone. She hated waiting.
“You’re driving me insane. You know that, right?” Scarlet looked up from the game of Solitaire she was playing on Blake’s bed. Adam’s shredded jacket was still spread out on the end of it.
“He should have called by now.”
“He doesn’t have time,” Scarlet said logically. “He barely has time to get there as it is.”
Krista glanced out the window. It was no longer snowing, but the roads were probably icy.
“And John’s there?” Krista asked. “You’re sure.”
“He’s there.”
“What about the team?”
“They’re there.”
“What about paramedics, in case anyone gets hurt?”
Scarlet shot her a look.
“It happens.”
“Everyone’s there. They’re set up. Calm down, Kay-Kay.”
Krista rolled her eyes and paced to the other side of the little suite, where Blake was now seated on the side of the tub, his wrist still cuffed to the towel rack. For the past hour, he’d stared down at his feet without saying a word, and he had the bleak look of a man about to walk the plank.
Krista didn’t feel sorry for him. He’d brought this on himself by getting mixed up with this smuggling ring. And Mac had come back with more on the background check. Blake Johnson had been busted six years ago trying to bring ivory through customs in San Francisco. So, this wasn’t his first rodeo.
