When He's Dirty (Walker Security: Adrian’s Trilogy Book 1)

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “He’s too smart to come to my territory,” I say. “He wanted me to come to him.”

  “And here you are,” Adam says. “Now what?”

  A flash of Pri’s pretty blue eyes drowning in fear flashes through my mind. “We need the list of witnesses. We follow that trail.”

  “What about Agent Pitt?” Savage asks, already reaching for another slice of pizza. “Ask him.”

  “The US Marshals handle witness protection,” I say. “I need Pri to give us that list.”

  Adam arches a brow at me from across the table. “You’re going to ask her for the list, Rafael?”

  “What does his brother have to do with this?” Savage asks.

  “He told her his name was Rafael,” Lucifer offers.

  “Oh shit,” Savage murmurs. “She’s going to be pissed when she finds out who you are.”

  “It was necessary,” I say, tipping back my beer and taking a slug before I add, “I told her I’m with Walker. I told her we can help. If she calls, we know she’s not only legit, but not being bribed or threatened to turn over witnesses to Deleon, which includes me.”

  “And if she doesn’t call?” Adam asks.

  “We figure out if she’s dirty or in trouble, and act accordingly.”

  “Any chance Pitt has the list and you don’t know it?” Lucifer asks.

  “Doubtful,” I say, pulling my phone from my pocket, “but worth trying.” I punch in Pitt’s autodial on speakerphone, because unlike anyone in my FBI days, at least my latter days, I trust these assholes. The question is, will they trust me when they discover all that went down with me and Waters?

  Pitt answers on the second ring. “Hola,” he answers. “What’s cooking, man? You ready to come forward? Or at least meet the ADA?”

  Considering Pri and I together make a bigger target, that’s not something I’m willing to go on record with just yet. “I need to know who’s on the witness list outside of me of course.”

  “I don’t have that list,” he says. “You know that. The DA’s office is guarding the list, but there must not be anyone overly hot, or she wouldn’t want you so damn badly. Come in. Meet her.”

  “Not yet,” I say. “Get me the list and then we’ll talk. Gotta run.” I disconnect, thankful as fuck that Blake scrambles our phone location with whatever magic he works.

  “You didn’t tell him you’re here,” Adam says. “Interesting.”

  “He’s dirty,” Lucifer says. “I feel it straight to my fucking bones.”

  My mind is back on Pri and her distrust of law enforcement that clearly has a valid place in this story.

  “Ditto,” Savage says. “Pitt’s dirty. I wonder if he’s a bleeder. Wanna find out?”

  “I do,” Lucifer says. “I wanna find out.”

  “He’s not dirty,” I say. “He wants Waters to go down. He gave up years of his life setting him up, even if not as directly involved as I was.”

  “Does Blake know about him?” Adam asks simply, a man of few words, but what he says has a purpose.

  “Of course he does,” I say. “He’s Blake.”

  As if Blake heard us speak his name, my cellphone rings with him on caller ID. I answer. “You’re on speaker with all of us.”

  “Let’s talk about Priscilla Miller, Adrian,” he says.

  He has my attention. “What about her?”

  “I can never be a hundred percent certain, but I’ve spent the last hour checking and double-checking the research I’d done a few days ago. Her electronic fingerprint, including her bank accounts, read clean. I can’t find any proof she’s dirty, but—”

  “Cash deals happen,” I say. “It’s the only way Waters deals. And he wouldn’t leave a phone record. He’s good, which is why we can’t fuck up and let him get away.” I glance around the room. “He’s a monster, the likes of which we’ve rarely seen. He has to pay.”

  “And he will,” Adam says.

  “A-fucking-men,” Lucifer murmurs.

  “A-fucking-men,” Savage agrees. “And we bury Deleon with him. Blake,” he adds, “he’s ghosting. I need more to grab him.”

  “I’m working on it,” Blake assures him, shifting back to me, “Adrian, we need the witness protection list. I’m trying to pull strings, but we need Pri or the DA to give the okay. I say we give Pri twenty-four hours. If she doesn’t come to us, I’ll go to the DA and offer our services for free if that’s what it takes.”

  For free.

  For me.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I say.

  “You’re one of us now,” Blake says. “This is personal. Twenty-four hours. Do we agree?”

  “Yes,” I say, hoping like hell Pri makes that call to us on her own.

  “Then we have a plan,” Blake says. “What else?”

  “Check out Agent Pitt,” Savage chimes in.

  I scowl his direction. “He’s not dirty.”

  “I’ve given him a looksee,” Blake confirms. “Nothing stands out.”

  I arch a brow at Savage who shrugs.

  “Anything else?” Blake asks.

  “Nothing.” I say and when no one objections, Blake says, “More soon,” and hangs up.

  I stand and walk away from the crew, entering the kitchen to lean on the island, chin low.

  “You okay?”

  I glance up to find Adam on the other side of the island. “I was deep undercover. I lived it with Waters or I died.”

  “You think anyone here is naïve enough not to know that?”

  “It changes how you look at a person, seeing what they can do.”

  “We all have our dirty laundry, man. You know that.”

  “Right,” I say, but there is nothing right about where I let Waters drag me. I push off the island. “I’m going to get some shut-eye.” I head toward the door and once I’m in my room alone, I sit down on the edge of the bed. The devil, the King Devil, is in the details, my details, and he means to drag me to hell with him. I should have killed him while I had the chance. At least two witnesses would still be alive.

  Chapter Ten

  ADRIAN

  I’m up at 5 AM and dressed in gray sweats and a basic navy T-shirt, ready for a run. I exit my room and find the house quiet outside of Lucifer monitoring the security feed at the dining room table. “Coffee’s ready,” he says. “Savage covered me last night. He just went to catch some z’s.”

  I nod and keep walking, entering the kitchen on a path to the back door only to find Adam, looking as ready for a run as I am, leaning on the counter with a cup in his hand. He sets it down and straightens. “You’re running,” he says. “I’m running.”

  “I’m in,” Savage says, appearing in the kitchen as well.

  “No,” I say. “The three of us are going to draw way too much attention. Both of you go to bed.”

  “Fuck,” Savage grumbles, scrubbing a jaw sporting a two-day stubble. “Right.” He eyes Adam. “He’s right. We’re all so flipping hot and handsome, everyone will notice. And I’m as tired as an eighty-year-old grandma who baked a cake.”

  Adam grabs his cup. “I slept. You go sleep, Savage.”

  Savage, looking weary, doesn’t argue. He rotates and I call after him, preparing him for what I know is coming, what’s been weighing on me all night long. “You’ll have to kill Deleon to beat him, Savage. You get him first or he’ll get you.”

  He half turns and winks. “I’m always first. And now to bed. I do my best killing with at least four hours.” Savage disappears into the other room.

  I eye Adam and his SEAL Team Six moral compass of gold. “Got anything to say about that?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “We running or not?”

  In other words, we’ll talk about our contrasting morals when it comes to murdering assholes later. Right now, this is his way of being here for me. And considering he’s more of a silent type than a lecturing type, which works for me.

  I give him a nod
and we step outside into the sixty-something muggy morning, a perfect time to finish my workout before Pri heads out for hers. And she will. There is no question in my mind that Pri will take her ritual run this morning even if she most likely went to bed spooked and saying she wouldn’t. It’s a control thing, a need to feel as if the enemy can’t take what is yours and familiar. The way a runner might use running to steady herself, to convince herself she’s strong enough and brave enough to keep fighting a big bad wolf. I just hope like hell I can convince her I’m not the wolf.

  Forty-five minutes later, Adam and I complete our run and we’re out of sight, but present when Pri exits her house for her run. I feel this punch in my chest at the sight of her that I don’t understand. Forcing my gaze from her long legs, I glance at Adam. “I need to be at the coffee shop when she gets there.”

  “I’ll cover her,” he says. “I’ve got her back. And yours. Go. Sweep her path forward. I’ll follow her.”

  I nod, and take off, my mission to clear her a safe path.

  By the time she’s done with her run, I’ve left her with Adam’s protection, and I’m in the coffee shop with my MacBook in front of me, sipping a coffee. And just as I expected, she walks in the door. And holy hell, I saw her running, but right now, seeing her here now, in pink shorts, her long athletic legs as bare as her make-up free face, she’s so fucking beautiful. Obviously, I have a thing for her legs, but damn it, what is it with me and this woman? I’ve known my share of beauties, but none of them kept me awake at night thinking about them the way Pri does. None of them linger on my lips the way she does. I tell myself it’s about the case, it has to be about the case. We’re connected in a common cause. We’re connected by the King Devil and there is no way that ends well.

  She must feel me watching her because her gaze lifts and turns in my direction, and when her eyes fall on me, there is a rush of awareness between us, followed by white-hot lust, at least on my part. And despite how hands-off she should be, and is, I welcome it. Lust I can handle. Lust is familiar.

  She gives me a tiny wave and a smile before she places her order, and damn it, there’s a kick in my gut, something more than lust again. It’s not familiar. It’s not comfortable and I don’t have time to find a way to dismiss it, either.

  It’s not long before she slides into the seat across from me. “Morning,” she says, her voice so fucking sweet, a beautiful contradiction of tough and charming.

  “Good morning,” I say, and she is even prettier this close.

  She motions to my cup. “White mocha or butterscotch?”

  “White mocha,” I confirm. “I have a sweet tooth.” I point out the bag of M & M’s on the table. “Breakfast of champions. Want some?”

  She laughs. “For breakfast? No, but have you tried the new brownie ones?”

  “I’m more of a traditional guy.”

  “The brownie M & M’s will convert you, I promise.” Her cellphone rings and she pulls it from the running belt around her waist, eyeing the number, her mood sobering instantly. “Defense’s lead counsel. Maybe I do need chocolate for breakfast. Sorry. I have to take this.” She answers the line and says, “A little early to get a call from you, Daniel. You want to make a deal, right?”

  Her name is called out and she stands and walks to the counter. Grabbing her coffee, she heads back in my direction but pauses halfway between the coffee bar and the table.

  But I am still close, the only person in hearing distance and only barely, but I manage to pick up pieces of the conversation. “Then maybe you should tell your client to stop hurting people,” she says her voice low, taut, then she says, “What bigger fish?”

  She turns slightly and the sound barrier broadens. That’s all I get before she ends the call. By the time she’s returned, I’ve packed up my bag. “I need to go,” she says. “Unfortunately, I have to get to the office sooner than expected.”

  I stand, studying her, searching her lovely face, and finding tension ticking along her jawline. “Tell me you didn’t agree to a deal.”

  “You heard,” she assumes.

  “Enough,” I say. “Tell me you didn’t accept a deal,” I repeat.

  “No,” she says, “but he wants me to meet with him and Waters. Waters is offering me a bigger fish.”

  “Who?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  Now my jaw is ticking. “He’s too dangerous to let get away, and too many people gave up their lives to get him where he is now, for you to set him free.”

  “I’m not going to just set him free. I want him behind bars. And how do you know anything about this case?”

  “I know,” I say. “Who does he want to trade?”

  “I can’t—”

  “Who, Pri?” I insist.

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Whoever it is, isn’t as bad as Waters.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “And yet, I do.” I catch the fingers of her hand with mine and I don’t miss her tiny intake of breath or the fact that she doesn’t pull away. “Call Blake Walker. He’ll stop the bloodshed. He’ll help you win this case.”

  “I can’t even guarantee I can get his fees approved.”

  “Walker will do this for free if they have to.”

  She blinks up at me. “Free? Why would they do that?”

  “Because I’m involved and because Waters really is the King Devil. Waters will keep hurting people. Don’t let that happen.” My hand falls from hers. “I’m going to leave, at least for now, and let you think.”

  I step around her and take two steps when she calls out. “Wait!”

  I half turn and she asks, “How do you know all of this? How?”

  “Call Blake.” I rotate again and this time I really do leave.

  ***

  PRI

  I stare after Rafael, confused about whose side he’s on. It feels like he’s on mine, but he knows too much about Waters to be some random guy in a coffee shop I just happened to meet. He could be working for Waters, playing games with me. Or Rafael could be Adrian Mack. It’s a crazy thought. Of course, undercover work is his thing but no, it can’t be true. It’s not true. And yet, it popped into my head. When things pop into my head, they usually matter. Oh God. Why am I standing here? I just let him leave.

  I race after him and exit the coffee shop, scanning left and right, but he’s nowhere to be found.

  Chapter Eleven

  PRI

  Still in front of the coffee shop, I grab my phone and dial Rafael’s number, but after several rings it goes to voicemail. “It’s Pri,” I say. “Please call me.” I hang up and start walking. He wants me to call Blake Walker. I’ll call him, but I need to do it at home, alone.

  Hurrying forward, I replay every word I’ve exchanged with Rafael, trying to find clues, but I’m back to square one. I’m even trying to convince myself our paths crossing was just luck.

  I enter my house and it’s frustrating to feel that I need to search it before I can even make the call. I grab my gun from the hall table where I left it before my run and do my search. When I’m done, I sit down on my bed and try Rafael again. I reach his voicemail again, and this concerns me. I thought we had a connection. I thought there was something between us. Call Blake, he’d said several times. I immediately punch in Blake Walker’s number.

  “Priscilla Miller,” he answers. “Blake Walker. Rafael told me you’d be calling.”

  “How did you know it was me?” I ask. “I didn’t give Rafael my number.”

  “I’m good at finding out things. I’m sending you a text with a private Dropbox with references. There are some powerful people on the list, including a few inside the White House. Feel free to call them.”

  “Can you include a fee list?”

  “We’re not cheap,” Blake says. “But can the DA afford to lose the case or make a lesser deal in an election year?”

  “The trial isn’t going b
e over in time for the election anyway.”

  “The case may be if you let him walk.”

  “Rafael told you he wants to make a deal.”

  “Yes,” he says. “He did.”

  “Rafael says he’s here on a job for Walker?”

  “Everything he does is with Walker. We’re family. And we don’t get bribed or turned by the likes of Waters. We also don’t get scared. You need to act now before someone else dies.”

  “I know that.”

  “Before you make a deal, at least meet with one of my men.”

  “Isn’t that what I did with Rafael?”

  “I’d like to send Adam to meet with you at the office.”

  “And Rafael?”

  “Will step back in at the appropriate moment, but Rafael said I was to be a reference for him with you. I’m offering that to you in Adam. Ask him about Rafael.”

  “What about you?” I ask. “What do you think of Rafael?”

  “I only employ men I trust, men that I know will always come through. Rafael would take a fall to save anyone on this team. And we would do the same for him.”

  “This case is personal to him, isn’t it?”

  “That’s between you and him.”

  “I know who he is.”

  “A hero, Ms. Miller. He’s a hero. What time can I send Adam over to meet with you?”

  “Two o’clock.”

  “Two it is. What can I do for you before we hang up?”

  “I need to speak with Adrian Mack.”

  He’s silent a moment, before he says, “I’ll see what I can do.” He disconnects.

  I grab my MacBook and pull up the references Blake has sent me and I’m blown away. The Secretary of State is on the list. The Secretary of State! There’s a number inviting me to call him. It’s way too early to make that call, but I’m already won over. We need Walker Security on this case. And as for Rafael—I don’t know if he’s Rafael or Adrian, but I hope like heck I didn’t make-out in a bathroom with our key witness. And really, truly, it would be the definition of my screwed-up love life if I did. My lashes lower and I think about him catching my fingers this morning. I’d felt that touch all over. I’d felt connected to him. My lashes lift. If he’s Adrian, was anything that happened between us even real?