Covert Kisses

by Jane Godman

  Cameron ran a hand through his hair. Laurie could almost see his mind working. “Does this mean...?”

  Could she trust him? Could she afford not to? “I went to see Moreton this morning and suggested to him that meant Carla might have been murdered. He was looking into it.” She drew a deep breath. “We were going to meet tomorrow morning. The fact he came here breaks every existing protocol between undercover operator and handler. It was totally unprecedented.”

  Suddenly the shock of what had happened hit her, and she sat down abruptly in one of the chairs. Cameron remained between her and the door. Laurie’s own trauma was reflected in his expression as he scanned her face. “What will you do now?”

  She pointed to where the power cable for her laptop had been ripped out of the socket. “Whoever killed Moreton took my laptop. My contact details were stored in there. I need to get to Cody. Moreton had an office there that he was using as his cover. Hopefully I can find contact details for our superior there and call in. This is too big for me to deal with.” She drew a deep breath, willing herself onward. Since she was trusting him this much, she might as well tell it all. “Remember Deanna Milligan?” Cameron nodded, the frown in his eyes deepening. “It seems unlikely that she went off with her unsuitable ex-boyfriend... But she was getting the same heart-shaped arrangement of roses sent to her before she disappeared, also from a secret admirer.”

  He rubbed a hand over his face like a man trying to wake himself from a bad dream. “This can’t be happening.”

  Laurie continued. “Deanna and Carla had similar coloring. Five other women with the same physical characteristics have either died or disappeared in Stillwater during the last four years. There are even more across the whole county.”

  “Don’t tell me—they all got red roses in the shape of a heart?”

  “It was on my list of things to have Moreton check out.”

  “My God, you’re serious.”

  Laurie pointed at the flowers. Her hand shook wildly. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t control it. “Whoever sent that just killed my handler.” She shifted the direction of her finger to a small window at the rear of the cabin. It had been forced open as wide as it would go. “The door was locked, but he had a key to let himself in. That’s the way he left. You can see where he damaged the frame on his way out. Yes, I’m taking this very seriously.”

  “I’m sorry.” The words were mechanical. What you said when someone died. He glanced down at Moreton’s lifeless form. “Were you close?”

  Laurie thought about it for a moment. She had worked with Moreton before, yet she knew nothing about him. “We weren’t friends, if that’s what you mean. But I trusted him. I’m used to the idea of him being there in the background, looking out for me. Now he’s gone—” her voice wobbled and she fought to get it back under control “—and I have to deal with this alone.”

  “No.” The word sounded as though it had been ground out reluctantly. Laurie gazed up at him with a bewildered expression. “You think I’m going to let you go out there on your own, knowing someone could have killed Carla, Deanna and these others, and you might be next?” He shook his head. “I don’t know what sort of dirty operation you think I’m running at Delaney Transportation, and I don’t care. You clearly believe I’m the sort of low-life scum who abuses women by trafficking them. That’s not who I am, and I’m not going to abandon a woman in danger. You may not be my favorite person right now, but I’m driving you to Cody and staying with you until I know you’re safe.”

  Sharp tears stung the back of Laurie’s eyelids, and she knew Cameron noticed before she managed to blink them away. She wanted to be proud and refuse his help. To maintain a professional distance from this man who could be one of the most evil and prolific criminals she had ever encountered. But with a serial killer on her tail, pride was a luxury she didn’t have. She needed to get to Cody and find a number so she could call Mike Samuels. Her eyes were drawn to Moreton’s body. She didn’t feel comfortable leaving him here, but calling the local cops would go against the protocols Moreton had instilled into her at the start of this job.

  “Thank you.” Laurie’s voice was husky with emotion. She rose to her feet. “Give me ten minutes to finish getting my things together.”

  “You’ve got five.” His grim expression told her his chivalry didn’t extend as far as making things easy for her.

  * * *

  The tension in the car was like an invisible fog, so thick Laurie felt it threatening to choke her. Somehow, whenever she stole an occasional glance at Cameron’s granite profile, it didn’t help to tell herself she had only been doing her job. She thought of Moreton, even though it hurt to do so. On their first job together, the FBI agent had told her to trust her instincts. My gut is telling me Cameron Delaney is an innocent man who is outraged at the allegations I have made against him. Could Moreton—could the FBI—have gotten this whole thing so completely wrong? It wasn’t impossible, but it was unlikely. An undercover operation of this type was not something anyone in the Bureau would sanction lightly. They had to be pretty sure their evidence was cast-iron. So, how the hell do I start this conversation with a man who is already as angry as if he had just stuck his hand in a wasps’ nest?

  The sun was setting now, the night almost upon them as Laurie gazed out the window at the featureless landscape. The sky faded from yellow through orange to dark blue before turning black where it merged into the horizon. The only break in the flat line of which was that curious, funnel-shaped hill she had noticed earlier in the day.

  “That reminds me, one of your trucks nearly ran me off this road earlier today. It pulled right across in front of me and turned down that track over there.”

  Cameron shook his head. “Not one of mine.”

  “It was,” she insisted. “It had your logo across the side.”

  “Couldn’t have been.” His voice was dismissive, and still horribly cold. “This is not one of our routes, and there’s no way one of our trucks would go down that track. It doesn’t lead anywhere. It used to be the entrance to the old Dawson ranch, but that property hasn’t been occupied in the last five years or more.”

  “Have it your way.” Laurie had been sure it was this stretch of road where the truck had pulled across in front of her. That hill was unmistakable. Then again, maybe there was another one that looked the same. It had been light then and it was almost dark now. And it wasn’t like nothing had happened today to unsettle her. She was hardly going to get into a fight with Cameron over it. Not when she wanted to question him further about his business activities.

  Just as she was formulating and discarding questions to try to get him to open up to her, Cameron took her by surprise and seized the initiative. “What evidence do you have against my firm?”

  Laurie shifted in her seat so she could see his profile in the light from the dashboard. “I know some of it, but there may be more I haven’t been told about.”

  His lip curled. “It must be pretty damning stuff to go to all this trouble. I’ll bet you don’t come cheap.”

  The cop in her resented that. She wasn’t some kid playing games, and the word cheap had other connotations. Ones that made her feel dirty. “No, I don’t. And you’re right. There’s no way the Bureau would authorize an operation like this unless they were sure they had the right man.” Laurie winced at his indrawn hiss of breath. “So why don’t you go ahead and convince me otherwise?”

  “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

  “I got the feeling you didn’t like the idea of being labeled a criminal, but if you want to play it by the book, that’s fine by me.”

  The car swerved wildly as Cameron pulled off the road and switched off the engine. Swiveling his body around in the seat, he faced her. Laurie was conscious of his size and strength, and the fact that he was very, very angry.

&nb
sp; So here I am, alone in a car, miles from anywhere with a man who is likely to be a dangerous criminal, who hates my guts and is as mad as a raging bull right now. Oh, and I packed my gun. It’s in my bag. The one in the trunk.

  Laurie had been in some tight situations in her time, but right now, she couldn’t think of a single one that had been tighter than this.

  “I don’t want to play it any way. Not with you, not ever.” He spoke each word very precisely, as though his jaw was clenched just a little too tight. “But I do want to know why you are here so I can show you how wrong you are about me.”

  Despite all that pent-up fury, Laurie realized she wasn’t afraid of him. It was a fundamental shift. Up until that point she’d questioned her instincts, wondered if she was right to trust this man. Sitting in that car with him, breathing in his anger and power, yet knowing there was no way he was going to unleash it against her—because Cameron Delaney is fundamentally a good man. I feel that—she stopped questioning. Instead, she went with what she felt. He was choosing to keep his fury in check. She would choose to share what she knew.

  “There was an operation to close down a chain of brothels in Montana. Some of the girls were Mexican. They were underage.” Cameron’s expression changed, became outraged. “When they were questioned, at first they were too frightened to talk. Then one of them opened up and the others backed her story. They spoke about being transported in trucks with the Delaney Transportation logo. The girls also said the trucks contained drugs and firearms.”

  “That can’t be true.” It was as though her words had drained his anger and replaced it with shock in the space of a minute.

  Reluctantly, Laurie continued. “There was also a former employee of yours who, around the same time, came forward with some information that corroborated what the girls were saying. Since then, the Bureau has been keeping a close eye on your company. Moreton told me they have tried to get other undercover operators into Delaney Transportation, but it was impossible. Whoever does the hiring and firing wasn’t letting anyone past.”

  “Vincente.” It was more an exhalation of breath than a word.

  “It seems your company only employs people known to your brother or recommended to him.”

  Cameron frowned at that statement as though there was something in the words that bothered him. “So they sent you.”

  “Moreton was researching your background. When he saw pictures of Carla, he was struck by her likeness to me. We had worked together before, and he did some digging. He found out Carla and I were cousins, even though we had never met.” It wasn’t an easy statement to make. She could tell by his expression it wasn’t easy to hear. “That was when he came up with the plan to send me undercover.”

  “You were related to her?” There was a raw, agonized ache in his voice.

  “I didn’t know until Moreton approached me about this job.” She wanted to say more. But what? Should she offer her apologies? How insensitive would that be? “Our fathers were brothers.”

  He drew in a sharp breath, switching the conversation back to the trafficking operation, as though he was unwilling to continue the conversation about Carla. “Why would something like that be going on here? Surely the sort of operation you’re talking about would be better located in a big city?”

  “Why did you choose Stillwater as the headquarters for Delaney Transportation?”

  Cameron looked bemused to have his question thrown back at him, but he answered her promptly. “It’s my hometown, so I know it well. I know it has cheap and plentiful real estate, quiet roads for heavy freight, easy access to major highways. I-25 will take you south all the way to the Mexican border—” He drew a sharp breath in, making the connection to what Laurie had said about the nationality of the girls in the brothels at the same time he said the words. “And for me, it makes sense because I know this county, and this state, so well.”

  “The same reasons apply to criminals who are looking for a good place to set up their business. We’re talking about transportation here, not a final destination. They are using Stillwater as some sort of depot, bringing the goods—whether those goods are guns, drugs or girls—and moving them on from here to their final destination. There are added benefits for a crime network. Wyoming is a big, quiet state. There are fewer pairs of watching eyes here. Not so many nosy neighbors. The local police have a huge area to cover. Even if they knew of an operation like the one we’re talking about, what are the chances of them finding the right truck at the right time?”

  “Our headquarters in Stillwater are not being used as this depot. I guarantee it. No way.” Cameron’s lips were compressed into a thin, determined line.

  Laurie tried a different approach. “Could they be using your company, but doing the illegal stuff elsewhere? It sounds far-fetched, but could someone be running an illegal operation alongside your legitimate organization?”

  “Behind my back, you mean?” His expression was stunned as he considered the possibility. “My God, that would mean someone deliberately exploited my grief after Carla’s death, and used it against me. I wasn’t fit to do anything properly after she died, let alone run a company. But this is so cold...so calculating...”

  Having planted a seed, Laurie pushed a little further. “Do you have any idea who it could be?”

  He shifted position, starting up the engine. His expression hardened and his body language shut her out again. When he spoke, it was as if he was formulating an idea out loud rather than including her. “I can only think of two people within the company who have the means to do this. And both of them are my brothers.”

  Chapter 5

  Cameron had visited Cody regularly over the years. It was a place that celebrated its small-town feel and Old West links, but also enjoyed a thriving nightlife. It was this that he and Laurie got caught up in as they stepped out of the car.

  “I feel kind of inappropriately dressed,” Laurie commented as they moved along the main street, passing families and groups dressed in cowboy hats, boots and shirts.

  “There’s a rodeo that takes place every night. Tourists love it. Locals, too.” He allowed himself a reminiscent smile. “Bryce and I used to pester our dad to bring us here all the time when we were kids.”

  He felt something deep inside him clench at the thought of Bryce. Could his kid brother be responsible for the sort of sickening activities Laurie had described? His heart told him no way. Yet he was reluctant to slip into the habit of always thinking the worst of Vincente. Time and again it came back to the same thing. Vincente hates me. Vincente is jealous of me. Vincente will do anything he can to get at me. As they were growing up, Vincente had done everything he could to prove it. Lately, his half brother had seemed to have gotten over his unhealthy obsession. He had even started to carve out his own life, instead of craving Cameron’s.

  How could he believe either of his brothers was capable of the things Laurie had described? Yet he knew what she was saying must be true. He had to accept his company was being used as a front for this vile operation. Laurie wouldn’t be here otherwise. There was something about her calm conviction that told him every detail, every sickening fact had been carefully researched. Her tone was regretful, but determined. This was a problem that wasn’t going away. And the thought of those young girls—never mind the drugs and the illegal weapons—made Cameron every bit as single-minded. No one was going to use his company, the firm he’d built up from nothing, as a cover for that sort of filth. No way.

  The thought almost, but not quite, deflected his attention away from the other predicament. The huge issue of the dead FBI agent and the fact that Carla, along with several other women, could have been the victim of a serial killer. His head still refused to process that information. He was tempted to get on the phone right now to Grant Becker. How could seven women, possibly more, who all looked alike, have gone missing—or in Carla
’s case died—in a relatively short space of time in this county and the sheriff’s department know nothing about it? Or maybe they did know and it wasn’t public knowledge. But the fact that Carla was one of those women, and the sheriff was one of his best friends...

  With an effort, Cameron got a grip on his emotions. Despite his animosity toward her, Laurie was a police officer. They were here because of her links to the FBI. Before they left her rental cabin, she’d searched Moreton’s body, the action clearly causing her distress. In his pocket, she had found a set of keys, one of which she was sure would fit the door to his office in Cody and another the safe she’d seen inside. Once she called this in, spoke to her contacts in the FBI and returned to San Diego, then Cameron could start getting the answers he so desperately needed. To both the huge questions Laurie Carter’s presence had brought into his life.

  She had brought other things with her. Things he didn’t want to examine too closely because, when he did, he didn’t like himself very much. Her arrival had revived his sex drive. He allowed himself a sidelong glance in her direction as she walked beside him with that easy, long-legged stride, her hair swinging. Revive was the wrong word. She had aroused him to the point where his whole body felt like it had been electrified. He was thirty years old, for God’s sake, and she made him feel like a horny teenager. It was a sensation that had nothing to do with twelve months of abstinence. Since he had met her, Laurie had featured in some fantasies so vivid and amazing they had interrupted Cameron’s sleep. And with those nocturnal images had come the inevitable feelings of guilt. Because he shouldn’t be feeling this for someone else. Not when he had convinced himself it would be wrong to feel anything ever again. Even more so when he still wasn’t sure whether his feelings were to do with her resemblance to Carla.

  Now the initial shock of the real reason behind Laurie’s intrusion into his life had worn off, he was left with a residual feeling of disappointment alongside his anger. Frustration that he would never get to find out if the reality was as hot as the fantasy. And that was just one of the reasons he didn’t like himself very much right now. He had been gullible enough not to ask questions when a woman who looked exactly like his dead girlfriend fell—yes, fell—half-naked into his arms. He had been thinking with his dick instead of his brain when he asked her out, not once but twice.