by Robin Perini
“Hey, little brother, I’m still working on Dad’s files,” Luke said. “Any new crisis since last night?”
“Just another crazy mystery. Deb just received a package from Ashley.”
“What the hell?” Luke asked. “Where is she? Where’s she been?”
“It’s not that obvious,” Gabe said, handing Deb the phone. “You explain it, Admiral.”
Deb could barely speak, but she explained Ashley’s hidden message.
“That’s one smart sister you have,” Luke said quietly.
He didn’t add what Deb knew. That if Ashley had gone to these lengths and been unable to include a note, she was also in serious trouble. While part of Deb wanted to shout for joy that Ashley was alive, part of her heart twisted in agony.
No telling what her sister was going through, and they were no closer to finding her.
“She’s special,” Deb said, her voice choked. “We don’t know why or how, but I’m looking at Point of Entry VIII right now.”
Luke didn’t speak for several seconds. “You can’t be,” he said. “Point of Entry VIII isn’t even out for reviews yet. Super top secret.”
“Which means Ashley is somewhere that has access to the game.” Gabe fingered the box. “Should we try to play it or at least open it? See if she managed to send us any other message inside?”
“Has it been tampered with?” Luke asked.
“No. It’s still sealed.”
“Get Forensics to test it first. Unless you’ve already contaminated the evidence.”
“I’m not a rookie.” Gabe scowled at the phone. “I’m wearing gloves, but who am I supposed to trust?”
“Good point. I’ll keep investigating things from my end,” Luke said.
“And I’m phoning the FBI. I don’t trust anyone local,” Gabe said.
Deb gripped his arm. He gave her a tender smile and for the first time in what felt like forever, hope rekindled.
“Don’t let anyone know you have that game,” Luke warned. “Serious gamers are crazy. They’d kill to get hold of it ahead of release date.”
“I hope you’re exaggerating. I’m on enough hit lists now,” Gabe said.
“Don’t go crazy and do this alone, little brother. We can help.”
“I know.” Gabe clicked off the phone. He looked at the return address. “Intelligent Solutions. Reno, Nevada. It’s not quite the same name as the company that creates P.O.E. Maybe a subsidiary?”
“Everything points back to that game,” Deb said. “Even the first case with Shannon and her friends.”
“There’s some kind of connection. My father knew it.” Bleakness filled his eyes. “We have to go back to the beginning. Start over with the first murder we know of—Shannon Devlin. She had a Point of Entry, Version I game case in her backpack when she died. Her teammate had the POE license plate on his car.
“What do you have in mind, Gabe?”
He started pressing buttons on his phone. “We need to talk to Shannon’s parents in Angel Fire. I’m going to ask Zach to fly us there tomorrow.”
“What about your investigation?”
“I have to trust Garrison to handle it. My family knows the danger. They’re hunkered down. Your sister has called out for help. I’m not turning my back on her. Or you.”
Tower hadn’t met with Jeff Gasmerati one-on-one in the last eight years. The sheriff glanced at his holster and weapon lying on the table across the room. He didn’t like standing in the room with a killer and no gun at his side.
The head of the crime family wore Gucci and his eyes penetrated like a dagger. Jeff drummed his perfectly trimmed nails on his desk until the door opened. A hulking man entered the room.
“The latest surveillance on Lansing’s apartment. Menken pulled it off,” Sly said.
“He served his purpose,” Tower muttered.
Jeff scanned the paper. “Gabe Montgomery is getting too close.” His gaze met Tower’s. “They’re headed to Angel Fire. To Shannon Devlin’s parents’ house. The one you shot in the bus terminal.
“I’m done with this,” Gasmerati growled to both Tower and Sly. “I want the whole thing to go away. Someone will take the fall. And it won’t be me.”
Tower shivered at the low, cold words, wishing he’d never heard them. “Neil Wexler will go to prison for the stolen evidence. Case closed.”
“It’s not enough. The Montgomerys won’t stop. The snitch’s hand didn’t work. Neither did the bomb. They just keep coming.”
“You’re lucky Patrick Montgomery died five years ago,” Tower said. “He’d have blown the business open.”
“True,” Jeff said. “Sometimes fate smiles. His death was a gift. Wish I knew who did it.” Jeff retrieved a Cuban cigar from its case and rolled it between his fingertips. “Now, what do we do about his sons?”
Tower shook his head. “You want me to take out the Montgomerys? All of them? They’re hard to kill.”
“A sniper’s bullet can rarely be stopped. Think about it, Tower.”
The sheriff blinked. It had been eight years since he’d picked up his rifle. His eyes were going, his reflexes weren’t what they used to be.
“You still have the stomach to be sheriff, don’t you?”
Tower stayed silent a moment too long.
“I see.” Jeff pressed a few buttons on his phone. “Take out your cell and check your messages. I’ve sent you a picture.”
A moment later, a message popped up on Tower’s phone. He tapped the screen and his knees shook. His daughter leaving her apartment building. Then a photo of her walking into her office. Another of her visiting the corner market.
She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d left home at eighteen. She hated him. She’d sensed the change in him, when he’d thrown in with the mob. In her eyes, he’d fallen off his pedestal. But she was Tower’s only remaining child and he still loved her.
Gasmerati knew it.
Tower was trapped.
“I understand,” he said. “I’ll make sure the Montgomerys are off the case. No matter what it takes.”
* * *
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
* * *
DEB PULLED THE hood across her face and skulked just inside the entrance to the hotel behind a large decorative urn. She scanned the deserted lobby for anything out of the ordinary. They’d agreed not to stay in the same place two nights in a row.
This wasn’t a bad spot to hole up.
After what seemed like forever, the sleepy clerk gave Gabe a key card. He ignored Deb and headed toward the elevator.
The clerk yawned and disappeared behind a door.
Deb hurried to the elevators, head bowed. Just in case.
Gabe waited for her. The elevator doors slipped open and they stepped inside.
A bit of her tension left her.
“Zach will have the plane ready at first light.” He punched the fourth floor.
“I just hope they can give us a lead.”
“Shannon was killed for a reason,” Gabe said. “Maybe she wrote down a name or a place. Something we can trace.”
Deb had to believe someone, somewhere knew where her sister was. She and Gabe just had to find it.
Once at their room, he slipped the card into the lock. The door creaked open to reveal a much different room from the motel last night. “Your brother knows how to pick them,” Deb said, checking the sitting area, then pulling back the curtains. Denver’s city lights twinkled in the darkness like a glowing carpet.
“Yeah, he came through. I don’t want to know how.” He thumbed through the IDs Zach had generated. His brother had simply handed over several sets without being asked. They could sign in as a different couple as the need came up—as long as they went someplace where they wouldn’t be recognized. Having a wealthy ex-spy, ex-movie star around was coming in hand
y.
“Your family is . . .” She didn’t know quite how to describe them. “. . . resourceful.” Actually, they were amazing. Their own little commando unit. They might straddle the gray on occasion, but Deb would never doubt their loyalty . . . or their commitment to doing what was right.
Each member of Gabe’s family seemed to have justice carved on their soul. More importantly, they really stuck together.
The Lansings had cracked some in adversity. Her heart ached.
“My brothers have their moments.” Gabe scowled. “Except Nick. He gets a huge mark for the stunt he pulled.”
“You probably don’t want to hear this, but he was living up to the deal he made when he took his job. It requires secrecy. You did the same thing when you started pretending to be a broken-down ex-cop bartender.” She walked over to the mini fridge and opened it, scanning the offerings. “Want a soda or a beer? Pretzels, maybe?”
“Don’t confuse me with facts, Deb. And yeah. Pretzels and a beer would be great right now. Just one, though. Can’t afford not to think.”
He sank into the couch. “I still want to be pissed at Nick. For a while anyway.”
She grabbed two cans, then sat beside Gabe and passed one over.
They cracked them open. While she ripped the pretzel bag, he took a long, slow swig from his beer. “What’s this really about?”
“Nick hid the truth. Steve Paretti was my best friend. When I realized he’d played me all along, I started doubting myself. How was I supposed to be a cop if I could let someone fool me like that? All my life.”
“This isn’t just about Steve,” Deb said. “I’ve been around you long enough to know there’s something a lot bigger that happened the night Shannon Devlin died. You’ve kept it from your brothers, but it’s slipping out, Gabe. They see it. So do I.”
He didn’t say a word for a few moments.
“It’s not relevant to our investigation.”
“Okay,” she said lightly, “if you say so.” She settled down in her seat and chewed on another pretzel.
Echoes of cars zooming past filtered through the hotel’s windows. A siren screamed from several streets over.
Deb watched Gabe warring with himself.
She got that. When you said something aloud it became much more real.
Finally Gabe dropped his head back against the couch. “Why do you have to be so damned stubborn? Look, I hated my dad that night. Not the pissed-off-because-I-was-grounded-most-of-my-senior-year kind of hate, but unadulterated, gut-wrenching disgust. He’d always been my hero, and I’d just discovered he’d done something that could destroy my mom.” Gabe looked at Deb. “You’ve met my mother. She’s formidable, but devoted as the day is long. She loves unconditionally. How could he betray her?”
Deb shifted to the side to see Gabe more easily. “My relationship with my dad’s not any better. That’s not a secret from our phone conversation. Four-star Army general. As rigid as they come.” She sighed. “Before my mother’s death, he showed more affection. He adored her. He just assumed she’d always be there to take care of things while he saved the world. Her death rocked him to the core.”
“He changed after that?” Gabe reached out and held Deb’s hand. He stroked her palm and her heartbeat quickened in response.
“Oh, yeah. The transition was hard on all of us. My brothers and sister needed him. We were just kids. We wanted to cling to him, but it was like he hated to come home. The longer and more dangerous the deployment, the better. My aunt raised us most of the time when he was deployed, although I took responsibility for Ashley.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen. She was five.”
“You were awfully young.”
“I was old enough to understand Ashley needed love. Love that my father wouldn’t give. Besides, how could I complain? I saw the news. Saw the violence in the countries where he was stationed. To me, he was the bravest man on earth. He’d come home in his uniform, with that duffel bag slung over his back. I thought my father was a hero. We all thought it.”
Gabe stared at her, his eyes questioning.
“He was the reason my brothers and I signed up.”
“I hear a ‘but’ coming on . . .”
“I wanted to fly. I wanted to be a hero like my father. I loved helicopters, and doing search and rescue, but I didn’t make a secret of the direction I wanted my career to go. I wanted to be a fighter pilot from the beginning.”
“Jets? I could see you strapped in.”
She sat the beer on the table and rubbed her eyes. “The speed scared me a little, but it was also exhilarating. Lansings aren’t allowed to show fear . . . or cry . . . or wimp out on anything.”
“I got that impression from your phone call. So what happened that you’re now flying helicopters?”
Deb shook her head to dispel the memories. “I was home one Christmas. I thought for sure I’d made the cut for fighter training. I wanted to tell my father so I went toward his study. The General was on the phone talking to the detailer. He made sure I didn’t get my shot at the jets. He arranged for me to get assigned to helicopter training. He manipulated the system, used his influence, called in favors . . . and changed my career.”
Gabe looked over at her. “Maybe he wanted to protect you?”
An old anger burned in Deb’s belly. “I didn’t need his protection. I needed his support. When my brother went into black ops, he didn’t stop him. When the other decided on Special Forces, he was proud.”
She couldn’t sit still. The memories swirled inside of her. She rose from the sofa and paced. “He’d preached all my life that if you go for it, do the right thing, follow the credo—honor, country, faith, and hard work—you could achieve anything you wanted. My father scuttled my career with a few well-placed phone calls. I’d seen him do it to folks in his command he didn’t deem worthy. But I thought family stuck together. I never believed he’d do that to me. Or that he’d lie. He betrayed me. And without remorse.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabe said.
Deb chugged down the rest of her beer. “He wasn’t who I thought he was. That’s what hurt the most.”
“Yeah. It sucks when a hero turns into a flawed human being,” Gabe said, his voice laced with some bitterness. “Did you ever forgive him?”
“I guess. Sort of.” She sat again, sadness sweeping through her. “But I don’t trust him anymore. Our relationship has never been the same since his betrayal.”
“Yeah.” Gabe stared at the ceiling. “I never forgave my old man for what he did, either. Not really. I lived with it, but I got out of the house as fast as I could. I couldn’t stay there, knowing he’d deceived my mother.”
Deb didn’t ask him to explain what had happened. The situation was obvious. Gabe’s father had cheated on his mother.
“Love doesn’t feel very permanent sometimes, does it?”
“I thought so for a long time.” Gabe set his empty can on the coffee table. “My brothers’ marriages seem solid, though. Luke and Zach have found partners they can trust. If I asked either one, they’d have no doubts in Jazz or in Jenna.”
“But how can they be sure?” Deb studied her hands. “In war I watched the worst people can do to each other. Our supposed informants smiling at a soldier one moment, blowing them up the next. A complete disregard for life. No empathy for anyone. Between my career and my father, I don’t know if I can ever completely trust someone else.”
“Maybe you can’t.” Gabe scowled at her. “Hey, you’re supposed to be making me feel better, not depressed. We’re drinking buddies now. You have to have my back.”
He smiled and she wanted to smile back, but couldn’t. Her heart did a flip. She was about to say something really, really stupid.
“Is that all we are to each other, Gabe?” she asked, searching his expression. “Drinking bud
dies?”
Desire flared in his eyes and he leaned forward to pull her into his arms. “God, I hope not.”
Seconds later, she was lost in his kiss.
Congressman Reynolds stared out the window of his home office. He could see the Capitol dome from here. His wife entered the room and wrapped her arms around his waist. She bit his ear. “You’ve been distracted lately. Maybe you need some . . . stimulation? Some centering?”
His body pulsed to life, but he moved across the room. “Not now.”
She wrinkled her forehead and sashayed toward him. His groin throbbed at the sway of her hips. His body tightened as she ran her hand over him and then bit his shoulder. Hard. Where the bruises wouldn’t show.
He knew what she wanted. He could tell she’d be good. Make him beg for the pain she’d give him . . . and the release.
Damn it, he wanted it, too.
Needed it.
“What’s wrong, pet? You’re looking so down. We’re due for an adventure. It’s been days.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Maybe we could play out a new scene? Or I could call—”
“No!”
She stilled, her entire demeanor shift. “You yelled at me. You don’t do that. What’s wrong, Raymond?”
He swallowed, then walked over to his computer and pulled up his e-mail. He stood back to give her a better view.
She stared at the photos and gasped. “Oh my God. Where did they get these?”
“Someone decrypted my files. They have all the videos, too. They could have everything.” His voice grew panicked. “I mean everything. Do you understand?”
His wife gripped the desk, her knuckles white. “What do they want?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his eyes. “They’ll call, though. I know they will.”
“We have to make plans. We’ll have to come up with a strategy.”
“It won’t work, Carla. If this ever comes out, I’m finished. Hell, we’re both finished. I ran on a platform of family values. If these pictures ever see the light of day, it’s over. No apology is going to explain that I get off on . . .”
