Fatal Exchange

by Harris, Lisa

  He sat patiently across from her, waiting for her to pull herself together. She wanted him to wake her up and tell her she’d been having a bad dream. That this was somehow just one big mistake. But life didn’t work that way. Sometimes bad things happened and you had to stick around and pick up the pieces.

  “I know this is hard, but I’ve watched you today.” Mason reached across the table and took her hands. This time she didn’t pull away. “You faced a tough situation and didn’t panic. You held that classroom together today for those kids. They’re safe largely because of you.”

  “Tess isn’t.”

  “We’re going to find her.”

  He held on to her hands, rubbing her palms with his thumbs. She’d come to look at him in a new light today. He’d become more than just the man who’d become a solid, secure presence in her life. More than a place of safety in the midst of a storm. He possessed that something she’d never been able to quantify on a checklist. Become the man she wanted to get to know. But he’d brought her here to help him figure things out. Not to let distractions tug on her or to fall apart because she’d been betrayed. She needed to focus. For Tess.

  She drew in a deep breath and fought to hold on to her remaining reserve of strength. “I have more questions about what happened today.”

  “Okay.”

  “Who do they think was in that van manipulating Rafael?”

  “The lab just confirmed that the fingerprints belong to a Mexican drug cartel agent.”

  She pressed her lips together, wishing she’d paid as much attention to work-related conversations between Avery and her father as she did to grading term papers. “So what did Charlie have to do with him?”

  “The cartel pays millions every month for corrupt cops to look the other way, and unfortunately their bribes aren’t limited to officials south of the border.”

  If she hadn’t seen what Charlie had done in the mall parking lot, she never would have believed he was capable of this kind of betrayal. But those were feelings she’d have to deal with later.

  “We’re still trying to put all of the pieces together,” Mason continued, “but we believe this agent was bribing Charlie in exchange for not reporting illegal cartel activities and helping to keep the department one step behind. The cartel agent is suspected to be involved in a string of unsolved murders your sister has been working on the past four months. He’s new in the area, brutal and dangerous as he tries to gain more territory.”

  Emily worked to make sense of it all. “So he uses someone like Eduardo, who’s been skimming money off the top of his profits, to teach a lesson—both to Eduardo and to those working for him.”

  “Exactly.”

  “This cartel agent. Why can’t you bring him in?”

  “We have a name and his fingerprints in at least three separate crimes, but we don’t know what he looks like. We found the same fingerprints in the van, but there is no match in the system. These agents working for the cartel aren’t US citizens, don’t have visas, and are very good at going back and forth across the border undetected.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “He goes by a bunch of names. Scorpion, Fuego Rojo—or Red Fire—and Nerón.”

  Nerón.

  A memory snapped to the forefront. “That name is familiar.”

  “Which one?”

  “Nerón.”

  “What do you remember?”

  Emily templed her hands in front of her, digging for the details. “It was a Saturday morning, a couple months before I called off the wedding, Charlie and I had arranged to meet for breakfast. I arrived thirty minutes early, thinking I’d order coffee and read, but Charlie was already there, talking with a man I’d never seen before.”

  “Was that strange?”

  “Not really. Charlie was friends with half the community. What struck me as odd was the intensity of their conversation. I remember stopping halfway to their table, unsure of whether I should interrupt or give them a few more minutes to talk, because I couldn’t tell if they were fighting or just talking about something serious.”

  “What about the man? His build. Any distinguishing marks?”

  “He was Hispanic. Short, but built solid, like he spent a lot of time working out. Five eight or nine. Broad shoulders. I heard Charlie call him Nerón. He left before I got to the table.”

  “Which makes him the same build and height as the man who attacked the safe house today.”

  “There was something else.” Emily pressed her palms against the table and hesitated. “It’s probably going to sound crazy, but I don’t know that I would have even remembered him otherwise.”

  “Sometimes it’s the smallest clue that ends up turning a case around.”

  “I don’t know if I can explain it, because it was just a feeling. I even remember telling myself at the time that I was being silly. I knew Charlie had contacts—informants—who weren’t exactly law-abiding citizens, but I also knew it was a part of his job. I figured this man was one of them. But as he left, he walked past me, and there was something about his eyes … It sounds stupid now.”

  “It’s not stupid. What happened?”

  “He looked at me as he walked past, and as he walked by, it was as if he could see right through me. I’ll never forget his face. The restaurant temperature was set at seventy degrees plus, but I had chills running down my spine.”

  “Did you ever see him again?”

  “No, and I never mentioned what happened to Charlie.”

  “So you don’t know anything more about him.”

  Emily shook her head.

  “But you could identify him if you saw him?”

  “Definitely.” Emily leaned forward, grasping on to the only lead they had at the moment. “It has to be him, Mason. The man in the van manipulating Rafael. The man who took Tess, then broke into the safe house. The man who’s supposed to meet Charlie tonight. Have they figured out where he was planning to meet Charlie?”

  “Tory thinks they were going to meet at the Black Tap. It’s a neighborhood bar with suspected connections to the cartel. We’re planning to take a team in there and try to find him.”

  Her mind was still spinning. “I could go there. Identify him.”

  “Whoa … slow down.” Mason undid the lid to his water bottle and leaned back in his chair. “The Black Tap isn’t a place you’d want to be, trust me.”

  “All I would have to do is sit in a corner and watch. I wouldn’t have to come in contact with him.”

  “It’s too risky. This man has already killed or ordered the deaths of four people we know of, which is probably just the tip of the iceberg.”

  She didn’t feel brave or heroic, but if there was something she could do to help find Tess, she’d do it. “If the man I saw with Charlie is the same man, I can identify him, Mason. I can find who took Tess. No one else can do that.”

  He shook his head. “There is a problem. He would recognize you.”

  “Maybe, but you’re an undercover cop. Don’t you use disguises?”

  “Sometimes, but—”

  She shoved back the chair and headed for the door.

  “Wait a minute, Emily. Where are you going?”

  “I can’t just sit around and do nothing.” She turned back to him and caught his worried gaze. “We need to talk to Avery’s team. I have an idea.”

  ———

  “Emily … wait.”

  Mason followed Emily into the bullpen where Avery’s team was busy checking out leads on Tess’s disappearance. The fear he’d seen in Emily’s eyes had been replaced with a stark determination, which scared him. She might come from a family of cops, might be smart and capable, but taking on a man who didn’t think twice about torturing and dismembering an enemy was a different thing altogether. And he was afraid he knew exactly what her idea was.

  “I believe I can ID your cartel agent.”

  Carlos leaned against his desk, arms folded across his chest, his frown pronounced. “
You’ve seen him?”

  “Emily believes she saw him once while she was with Charlie,” Mason said. “But we’re not a hundred percent sure it’s the same person.”

  Carlos glanced at his watch. “We’ve already got a team planning to stake out the Black Tap tonight.”

  “But you can’t identify him.”

  Mason shook his head. “You’re not going in there, Emily. It’s too risky.”

  “It might be risky, but if I can identify him, it would be worth it. He might know where Tess is, and as far as I know, he’s our only lead right now until Charlie gains consciousness.” Emily moved in front of Tory. “Avery once told me you were a genius with disguises. If I go undercover, he’ll never recognize me.”

  “It might work,” Tory said. “We could change your hair color, add a pair of glasses—”

  “Undercover? Wait a minute.” Mason frowned. This was not going to happen. “No way. Maybe in a surveillance van, but she’s not going into that bar, Tory. She’s a schoolteacher, and there’s a man out there who already tried to kill her. Let her pick him out from a lineup, or from a video feed from the back of a van, but she’s not going into that bar.”

  “Excuse me.” Emily held up her hand and turned back to Mason. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m standing right here. I want to do this, and this is the easiest and quickest way.”

  “She has a point, Mason.”

  He still wasn’t buying into this absurd idea and he knew the captain—and her father—would agree with him. “I know you’re worried about your niece, but—”

  “But what?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Do you have any other ideas to find Tess? I’m volunteering to go in there, with your team, sit down, and identify him. Nothing else.”

  Mason looked away, irritated over the fact that, absurd as it was, her logic was right. Time was running out and she was their only eyewitness at the moment. But he’d almost lost her today, and he didn’t want to go there again.

  His gut told him she could handle the situation. That she’d never be in direct contact with the man. Never be in danger. His heart told him otherwise. Told him to get her as far away from danger as possible. He caught the determination in her eyes and knew he wasn’t going to win this round.

  “We can’t send you into the Black Tap dressed like that.”

  Emily looked down at her gray sweater dress and tights, still slightly damp from the snow. “Why not?”

  “Have you ever been to the Black Tap?”

  “No.”

  “It’s not exactly located in the classiest part of town.”

  Carlos nodded. “He has a point. You’d stand out like a fish out of water.”

  “Which leads me back to my original protests of why I don’t think you should go in there,” Mason said.

  “Avery was right, boys. You both forget that while I might be a white-collar crime expert, I have a few hidden talents from back in the day, and disguises are my specialty.” Tory’s smile broadened. “What do you say, Emily?”

  “I say let’s do it.”

  “Mason, clear it with the captain while I start working my magic.”

  Thirty minutes later, Emily glanced into the mirror, barely recognizing herself. The blonde wig, shoulder length and pulled back into a ponytail, completely covered her red hair. A pair of skinny jeans and a white tank top had been paired with a trendy jean jacket, cat-eye glasses, and leather boots. Definitely not her normal vintage look. Tory had even insisted on a fake flower tattoo running down the side of her neck to complete the look. Mama would cringe if she saw her like this.

  “If you ever need a second career, you could make it in Hollywood.” Emily spun around in front of the team. “My sister was right. You’re good, Tory. Very good.”

  Mason put on an Atlanta Braves hat, then grabbed his leather jacket. “I have the go-ahead from the captain, but if you’re really going to do this, there are a few rules.”

  “Fine.” Emily tugged on the ponytail. Her own nerves were in a tight bundle, but this was something she knew she had to do. “You’ll have my back. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’ll go in there with me as my date. As soon as you ID the man, I’m whisking you out of there. You don’t make eye contact with him or speak to him. Nothing.”

  “I promise.” Emily couldn’t help but smile at his rules. There was something charming about the way he fretted over her. She could get used to his chivalry.

  “One more thing. You’ll be carrying a cell phone with a hidden audio transmitter … just in case.”

  She raised her brow, those bundled nerves trying to take over. “Just in case of what?”

  “Think of it as an all-purpose safety net in case something goes wrong. It can be used like a tracking device in case we get separated, which we won’t because you’re not leaving my side.”

  “You don’t think it will come to that, do you?”

  “No, but there are never guarantees when dealing with criminals. I’ll say this one last time. You don’t have to do this. It’s not too late to back out.”

  “I do have to do this. For Tess. For my sister … for myself.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her aside, giving them a measure of privacy. “I know what it’s like to shoot someone. To feel guilty because you can never turn back the clock. Because you knew Charlie, that guilt will be multiplied. But you don’t have anything to prove.”

  Emily dropped her gaze. She’d wanted to ignore it, but the guilt was there, trying to strangle her with its thick tentacles of doubt and fear.

  “I mean it, Emily. I already see every one of those qualities within you. Determination, resolve, purpose … You don’t have anything to prove.”

  “I know.”

  He put the cell phone in her hand and wrapped her fingers around it. “But I’m still not taking any chances.”

  “Okay.”

  He brushed back a strand of her wig. “In five minutes, we’re meeting with the other officers involved to go over everything before leaving. I want you to know who’s on the team, so you know who to run to if things go south.”

  Emily nodded, her stomach churning despite her proclaimed brave front.

  “One more thing. I have my own set of rules.”

  “Your own set of rules?”

  “My job is to keep you safe, so if you see him, remember—you will not make eye contact with him. You will not speak to him. If you end up needing the cavalry, the code word is ‘snowman.’ Because if anything happens to you—”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I have you.”

  She smiled up at him, heart pounding, and it wasn’t simply because she was about to go on her first—and hopefully only—undercover gig.

  He brushed his fingers across her hand. “Maybe when this is all over, you and I can go out … on a real date. I know this restaurant downtown I think you’d love. It’s quiet and the food is fantastic.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “So would I.”

  Carlos cleared his throat, then handed Emily his phone, dragging her back to reality. “Your father wants to talk to you before we leave.”

  “Okay.” Emily took a deep breath. “Daddy?”

  “Hey, sweetie. I just received a briefing on what you’re getting ready to do. You know you don’t have to do this.”

  “I’ve already been told that at least a dozen times, but I need to do this. I’ll be okay. How is Avery?”

  “She’s hoping to be released soon, but this has been rough on her. She’s scared and can’t do anything about it. Something she isn’t handling well.” There was a pause on the line. “As for you, be careful, Emily. If anything were to happen to you …”

  “I’ll be careful, and I know you’ll be praying.”

  Emily hung up the phone. A minute later, Mason was making quick introductions to the team that would be there with them, instructing them about the plan. Carlos, Tory, Griffin, and three guys the captain had assigned to the stakeout—Gordon
Britten, Russell Coates, and Randy Venetten.

  Mason turned to Emily. “Are you ready?”

  She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s go.”

  33

  Emily drummed her fingers against the table, wondering how Mason could look so calm when her insides felt as if they were about to explode. Despite all of Tory’s efforts, she was still convinced someone would notice she didn’t blend in. Worried he would recognize her if he saw her.

  She drew in a breath of heavy smoke. Someone was singing an off-key version of a Garth Brooks song, the music blasting so loud she could feel the pulse raging in her chest. Part of her wanted to run. The other part was still fighting to find the courage to stay and see this through. She took a sip of her lemonade and looked around the room, trying to look like her pasted-on smile was real because this was something she always did. Exposed brick walls held cockeyed photos and flashing neon signs. Waitresses served plates of food with little maneuvering room, over sticky floors. Customers played air hockey or threw darts between glasses of whatever local brew was being served. The Black Tap was a watering hole for the masses.

  She turned back to Mason. “I hadn’t expected it to be so … crowded.”

  Which had her worried. If she missed him, they’d be facing another dead end.

  “Try Friday night when there’s a live band onstage lighting up the scene.”

  She’d never considered herself snobby, but karaoke and cheap beer didn’t exactly fall in the middle of her comfort zone. Besides that, the smell of stale booze, stale cigarette smoke, and greasy burgers was doing nothing to ease her growing headache. “Am I the only one who sees this entire situation as ironic?”

  “Ironic how?” Mason dipped a fry into a pile of ketchup, then popped it into his mouth.

  She leaned forward even though no one was paying attention to them or could overhear their conversation if they tried. Mason had warned her that even the surveillance they’d set up with the transmitter hidden in the cell phone in her jacket pocket was going to be tough, if not impossible, to follow due to the excessive noise around them.