But wait, had she really done something wrong? He’s the one who acted like everything was great and then flipped on her like a switch. He’s the one with the problem. Maybe he was one of those guys with a relationship phobia.
Ugh, men were so confusing.
One would think working in a male-dominated profession she’d have it figured out.
Grandma Rose opened the front door for Sam. Ash’s tires screamed behind her, but she didn’t turn to watch him drive away.
“He’s not who we think he is,” Sam said. “He’s DEA and after Viktor Heinrich, too.”
She stopped short when she caught the other members of the 19th Street Patrol sitting in the living room, sipping lemonade. They sat next to each other hip-to-hip on the dated velour couch.
“We know,” Maybel spoke. “His name is Ashland Cooper. He’s deep undercover. We’re lucky we got that much.”
“But…when…?”
Rose patted Sam’s shoulder. “This morning, sweets.”
“It’s a big relief if you ask me.” Maybel lifted the glass to her mouth.
“I told you so,” Celia added.
“I knew a man that fine couldn’t be bad,” Estelle said, fluffing her hair.
“Sam, are you expecting anyone today?” Celia asked, gazing out the front window.
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“There’s a man walking in your front yard.”
The ladies craned their necks to peer out.
A short man in his late thirties with dark features, wearing a bland tan uniform paced in front of Sam’s house.
Must be someone from the HVAC company to fix her main air conditioning unit.
“Finally,” she breathed. “Took ’em long enough. I can’t put up with another night of soaked sheets.” She started for the door. “Be right back.”
She hopped down her grandmother’s cement steps, crossed the street, ready to hug and kiss the wonderful man. Air conditioning! She couldn’t believe it. She was going to have working AC. And not a crappy little window unit. A full-fledged full-house unit. Finally.
“Hey there!” She’d be turning the system down to thirty degrees and smiling as frost gathered on her windows tonight.
When she reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street, the man looked up and his eyes widened.
Everything happened in slow motion.
He moved his arm, and she caught a gleam of metal in his waistband.
Gun!
She turned toward Rose’s house, spotting the women on the porch.
“No!” She took off in a dead run toward the armed man. “Get inside!” she shouted to the women.
On the sidewalk, his hand at his waistband, he took determined steps toward her. They were a foot apart when he clasped the gun and raised it in her direction. She used her forward momentum to lunge at him and shove his hand upward.
One shot fired into the clouds.
She smashed her right palm up and onto the tip of the man’s nose, causing his head to snap back. Gripping his nape, she plunged his head forward, doubling him over, then kneed him in the face.
His hold on the weapon loosened enough for her to disarm him with one twist on the slide. He fell into a heap on the pavement, looking up at her with a stunned expression, blood dripping from his nostrils.
She pulled the slide, ejected the bullet from the chamber, and tossed the gun a few feet away.
Sam turned to make sure Rose and the women were unharmed, but a female shrieked and footsteps stomped behind her. Then an arm clamped around her neck.
He squeezed enough to make her vision darken at the corners. She fought and struggled, no way would she let him win, but he squeezed even tighter. Her feet dangled off the ground, her back plastered against his hard chest. More and more of her eyesight decreased, complete darkness imminent.
She tried to suck in a breath, but all that came was a slow wheeze. Her lungs filled like heavy weights, bloating in an effort to conserve whatever oxygen she had left.
Her arms swung wildly around, not hitting anything.
Female voices screamed for her to hold on.
In a final attempt to free herself, she gritted her teeth and threw her fist down like a jackhammer, connecting with the man’s balls. His arm slipped enough for her to suck in a quick gasp of air, and her vision cleared.
She prepared to slam her head backward into the man’s face, but instead his hold released. A scream sounded as he fell to the ground and shook in intense spasms.
“You okay, sweets?” Rose asked, holding a Taser aimed at the man’s back.
Sam nodded, rubbing her neck as she looked around.
Still running on heightened adrenaline, she grabbed the first man’s collar and hoisted him into a sitting position on the pavement in front of her house. “Who are you?” She lowered her face toward his. “Why are you here?”
Tires squealed. Her head jerked up. A black sedan barreled down the street, headed straight for her and Rose. The driver stuck a gun out the window in their direction.
“Grandma!” Sam pushed Rose onto Ash’s front lawn. Sam hit the concrete sidewalk, her knees dropping first, then her cheek as two rounds went off.
No searing pain, so Sam lifted her head to see the two injured men leap into the sedan. The scent of burnt rubber wafted through the air as the car sped down 19th Street.
She was sweaty, out of breath, and her knees seethed in pain from their brush with the concrete. Those factors, combined with the fact that someone shot at her grandma, really pissed her off.
Sam turned to Rose. “You okay? Sorry about the spill.” She bent to help the older woman to her feet. “At least I pushed you into the grass.”
Rose stood, dusting herself off.
Sam turned, making sure her friends were all right. The women scowled. No one came into their neighborhood and threatened one of their own.
“DJR 714,” Sam repeated to herself as she and Rose trudged up the porch steps. “DJR 714…DJR 714…”
“Maybel,” Sam huffed, grabbing the porch railing for support, “Can you look up a plate?”
The woman had her cell phone up to her ear. “Already on it.”
…
He sent people after her. Viktor Heinrich sent his men after Sam, and her grandmother could have been injured. Or worse.
Rage and impatience pumped through her veins, filling her insides to the max. Her body vibrated with the need to protect her family. The need to do something to keep them safe. Heinrich had taken her father from her. And he could’ve taken her grandmother.
Heinrich knew where she lived, and he would try again. She was sure of it. After the death and destruction she’d caused at Club Hell, it seemed Heinrich wanted revenge. She’d been in sticky messes before, but being on a dangerous drug dealer’s hit list was about as bad as it got.
Whether her life was in danger or not, her priority was still to find out what happened to her father. To clear his name. Which was why she stood on Ash’s front steps, waiting for him to answer the door.
It didn’t matter what he thought about her or how he’d treated her before. In fact, he’d made it easier on her. If their kiss had gone any further, had developed into something more, then things would get messy. Feelings would surface and hearts would be on the line. No, she was facing him today because she needed information about her father. So she’d do her part and report back to Ash on what she’d found about suspicious activity within BPD. Anything to get on his good side so he’d help her in return.
She’d knocked twice and raised her hand for a third time, when the door swung open.
Ash appeared, taking up most of the doorway with his large frame. Small streams of afternoon light glittered from the kitchen window behind him, illuminating the outline of his body. The dips and valleys of his shape, his wide shoulders and trim waist. He wore only low-slung workout shorts and a white towel draped over his bare shoulder. His short hair was darker, the droplets of shower water trailin
g down to his naked chest and abs. Her gaze roamed all the way to his bare toes, and a zing raced up her spine. Why the hell his bare feet did anything to her, she had no idea. Maybe because he was normally so buttoned up, so severe, and his bare feet made him seem approachable. Human.
She brought her attention up to his crossed arms and waiting expression.
“Something I can do for you, Sam?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said, clearing her throat. “I, uh, came to give you an update on my assignment.”
He lifted a dark brow, then it dropped and he said, “You mean looking for any dirty cops.”
She nodded. “I started in the Narcotics unit, figuring that would be the most likely place. It was, after all, where my father worked.”
His posture remained guarded, arms still crossed, weight evenly distributed on both feet. “Find anything?”
“A little.” She turned her head to peer down 19th Street and clenched her jaw. “I was interrupted.” She brought her attention back to him and said, “But I’m going to try again. You can bet on that.”
“Good,” he said. “I appreciate the help.” He unfolded his arms and braced one hand on the doorframe.
She was ready to ask him about Heinrich’s place in Upper Marlboro, the one Lyons mentioned, but he said, “Since you’re here, I have something to tell you, too.” He glanced to the floor, then his eyes flicked up to meet hers. His body swayed as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Why don’t you come inside for a minute?” He gestured with an outstretched arm, his biceps lengthening from the motion, and he followed her into his living room.
She sat on the edge of the couch at a loss over what he had to tell her. When he settled on the opposite end, she turned to face him.
“What is it?”
He didn’t meet her stare, choosing to keep his attention on the television. Though given the distant look in his eyes, he didn’t seem to be watching it. His jaw worked as if he was trying to form the words.
“It’s your father,” he said, turning to look at her. “My teammates think they might’ve found something.”
A surge of electricity zapped her body upright. “What? What did they find? Did they find him? Is he all right? Is he—?”
“Calm down, Sam,” he said. “While I’m here surveying Heinrich’s movements in Baltimore City, the rest of the team is farther south monitoring Heinrich’s compound. My teammates think they spotted someone who resembled your father.” He stared at her, as if he was unsure what to say next.
“Okay,” she said, drawing the syllables out.
He cupped the back of his neck. “This guy, he, uh, works for Heinrich.”
“Yeah,” she said. “My dad was working for Heinrich undercover.”
“No, he works for Heinrich. For real. He’s the business manager for Heinrich’s entire drug operation.”
She paused and let what he was suggesting sink in. Her brain seemed to reject what he’d said as the truth, so her only reaction was to repeat his words. “So my dad’s there, and he’s Heinrich’s right hand man.”
“It looks that way, but he’s going by Jonah Michaels now. Does that name mean anything to you?”
“No.” A mammoth headache crept its way into the front of her brain, pounding for a way out. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “What does that mean?”
“It looks like your father took on another identity when he started working for Heinrich in earnest. That’s why there’s no record of him in the recent files. It’s probably also why the DEA assumes he’s dead.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Impossible. My dad wouldn’t do that. He must still be undercover.” Which also meant that he was still alive. She could save him.
His eyebrows lifted into his hairline. “And not communicating with his handler?”
“Maybe something happened, and he can’t send word.”
“It’s been a pretty long time with no communication, Sam.”
Two long and grueling years. “I don’t care. My dad would never work for Heinrich. It’s a mistake. What your team saw isn’t what’s really going on.”
“Think about it, Sam. Why would your dad stay there if he didn’t want to?”
“Maybe Heinrich’s holding him against his will,” she said. “Maybe he can’t leave. Did your teammates think of that before they started throwing accusations around?”
He laid a hand on her shoulder. “My teammates are expertly trained. They know what they’re looking at.”
“They’re still human. They can make mistakes. And this is definitely a mistake. So you go right back to your team and tell them to reevaluate.”
“The evidence doesn’t lie. I’m telling you—”
Anger clamped on to her lungs, thrusting her words out like missiles. “No, I’m telling you. They’re wrong.”
A muscle in his jaw flinched and he said, “They watched Heinrich’s business manager physically hurting other people. Does that sound like something your father would do?”
He what? “No,” she croaked, hugging her arms around herself. “He wouldn’t. Even if he had to. Even if Heinrich held a gun to his head. He wouldn’t do it. It’s a mistake.”
Ash’s expression softened, and his fingers tightened on her shoulder. “Or he’s not the man you thought he was.”
She yanked her shoulders away from him, and his hand fell to his side.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, his skin stretching with the motion. “Look, I only told you to try to spare you. The team’s bringing down Heinrich’s whole operation. Everyone involved will be indicted. I thought you’d want to hear it now, from me, rather than from someone else afterwards.”
She doubled over, shoving her head between her knees. Concentrate on breathing. In and out. In and out. The DEA was going to indict her father along with Heinrich. They were going to publically shame him. Put him on display for all his BPD coworkers to ridicule him. To laugh in his face and say how they knew all along that Davy Harper was a liar. A cheat. A dirty cop.
She wouldn’t be able prove his innocence. She’d never save him. He’d rot in jail for the rest of his life because of a stupid mix-up that no one seemed to care to clear up. Ash’s teammates were so sure it was him. So sure he’d willingly work for Heinrich and hurt other people.
“I want you to be prepared, Sam,” he said. “The evidence is pretty damning. For once, BPD seemed to get something right. Your father’s dirty.”
Breathe. In and out. “How do they know?” She slowly unfolded herself to sit upright. “What exactly did your teammates see him do? Why are they so sure?”
Ash’s lips twisted as he seemed to think over what he should say. “He’s been keeping people in the cellar and doing things to them.”
Her lungs squeezed to the point that pain sliced through her chest. “In the cellar?”
His nostrils flared, and he looked to the ceiling again. When he brought his gaze back to hers, he said, “Yeah. The cellar. He’s using Vamp to…” He looked past her like he didn’t want to finish.
Detective Lyons’ words came back to her with a vengeance.
“Do drug testing?”
Ash’s eyes widened before getting control of his reaction. He adjusted himself on the sofa, sitting up straighter, then said, “Where’d you hear that?”
She shrugged. “Something I heard around the station.”
“Who did you hear it from?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip. Should she tell him? What if Ash went back to Lyons and told him not to share information with her? Or what if Major Fowler or Captain McGrath found out?
“Who, Sam?” His voice was serious and immediate.
“A detective in Narcotics. I was going to tell you about it, but then you started talking about my dad. He mentioned Heinrich had another place in Upper Marlboro. He didn’t call it a compound. But he did say Heinrich was doing drug testing there.”
Ash laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. He looked away a
nd shook his head. “Fucking BPD.” He turned back to her and speared her with his gaze. “You don’t repeat that to anyone, do you understand?”
She nodded on instinct.
“I’m serious. No one. This is the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for. We can’t risk anyone from Baltimore Police screwing this up. We get one shot at this.”
“I understand. But what does this mean for my dad?”
“I’ll tell my team to make sure without a doubt that this Jonah guy is your dad.”
“So they’re not sure? But you just said they were going to indict my dad. Accuse him—”
He cursed under his breath. “They’re sure. But if the DEA is gonna indict a Baltimore Police Detective, then we’re gonna be one hundred percent before we make public accusations.”
“How not sure are they? Because if there’s even the slightest doubt, then we need to go check it out right now. Before things get out of control.”
“The rest of the team is checking it out.”
“Well, what are we doing sitting here?” she asked. “We should go help them.” She started to stand, but he latched on to her forearm, yanking her back down.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” he asked, his face igniting into a disturbing shade of red. “Do you get off on putting yourself in danger on a daily basis? Are you an adrenaline junkie or something?”
She ripped her arm from his hold. “Of course not. But I’m not someone who sits around waiting for bad people to do bad things. You said my dad’s at that compound, so I need to rule out the possibility that he’s not being held there against his will. I’m not going to let him be prosecuted with Heinrich and the rest of his goons when I know for a fact he’s innocent.”
Panic slithered its way through her body, working up her throat. Dad could go to jail. He would be locked away for the rest of the life as a traitor. She needed to get him out of that compound. Needed to save him before Ash’s team went in and cleaned house. “When?” she asked. “When is your team going in?” How much time do I have to save my dad?
On Her Six (Under Covers) Page 15
