Puppetmaster (Coastal Fury Book 8)

by Matt Lincoln

  Ethan looked thoughtful for a moment but eventually nodded. “Alright. I’ll call Dr. Silver, and you’ll call Holm.”

  “Deal.” She held out her hand to shake his, and he took it firmly.

  “Deal,” he replied, flashing her another one of his dazzling smiles.

  “And then you get some rest,” she ordered, standing up and taking her water glass with her. “Doctor’s orders.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he beamed, and she walked into the kitchen to drop off her glass and find her phone. She had a very important phone call to make.

  Chapter 18: Holm

  “Holm, what did you find out?” Muñoz’s heels thudded dully against the carpet as she headed toward my desk. I dropped the brown paper bag down on top of the stack of papers that demanded my attention and sank into my chair.

  “Not much,” I replied as I took a sip of the cappuccino I had picked up on the way back to the office. “The man isn’t talking, and every time the wife seems to open up, he shoots her a sharp look, and she clams up.”

  “Dammit,” Muñoz muttered, slamming her hand on my desk in frustration. “Birn and I thought that bringing you on board with this case would help shake things up a bit, but we are still stagnating here.”

  I shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m sorry. I tried. I even tried to separate them so I could talk to her on her own, but her husband threw a fit.”

  “So, what do we do?” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped a toe against the floor. When I looked up, she was chewing her lower lip and staring blankly at the far wall, obviously deep in thought.

  “I thought about it on the way back,” I replied. “I do have an idea.” I dug out the doughnut that I had purchased and took a giant bite.

  “Really, Holm?” Muñoz shook her head and chuckled. “You’re going to tell me you have an idea, and then you’re going to shove food in your face and leave me hanging for a minute?”

  I offered her a powdered sugar-covered smile and finished chewing. Muñoz’s eyebrow raised higher and higher the longer she waited. I was torn between wanting to tell her my idea and waiting to see how high her eyebrow could get. I eventually gave in and swallowed the mouthful of dough and powdered sugar.

  “We need to bring them here,” I continued as if nothing had happened. “We need to find a reason to bring them in. Once they’re here in this environment, it will be easier to separate them.”

  “How do you propose we do that?” she replied, her one eyebrow still arched.

  My phone chose that moment to ring. I didn’t recognize the number, but it had a New York area code, and something inside of me screamed out to me to answer it.

  “I have to take this,” I interjected. “I’ll come to find you with the rest of my plan.”

  “You better,” she teased before storming off.

  I picked up the phone and held it hesitantly in my hand. This could be Marston, but it could also be the mob. Ever since the feeling I’d gotten the other night while jogging, I’d become more and more convinced that the Mezzanotte crew in New York had been the ones tailing me. I didn’t have too many enemies, and most of them were in jail or dead. As far as I knew, the New York mob was the only logical option.

  I answered the call and brought it up to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Robbie!” A familiar and cheerful voice came through the speakers. “How are you?”

  “Wait…” I paused for a moment as I put the puzzle pieces together. “Tessa?”

  “Yes!” she replied. “How are you doing?”

  “Have you heard from Marston?” As much as I was happy to hear from her, I had no interest in making small talk if she had information to share with me.

  “I’m with Ethan,” she assured me. I felt my breath rush out as I collapsed back against my chair with relief.

  “Oh, thank God,” I breathed. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine!” Her voice was reassuring, and her words even more so. “He asked me to call you.”

  “Why hasn’t he called me himself?” I pressed.

  “He’s… had some phone issues,” she replied, and for the first time since I’d gotten on the phone, I heard her voice shake. “He knew you’d be worried since he left so last-minute, but he needed to make sure you knew he was okay.”

  “Are you both in New York?” I suddenly had a thousand questions ready to fire at her. “What are you doing up there? What’s going on?”

  “Robbie…” Her voice softened, and I knew I was about to hear something serious. “The truth is, the reason he hasn’t reached out sooner is that he is doing something important. He can’t tell you what it is or where he is. You can’t help. He has to do this on his own. Ethan knew that if he called you, you’d be asking him all of these questions, and he can’t answer any of them. He is asking for your trust and patience. That’s the best he can do right now.”

  “Tessa,” I sighed impatiently, “with all due respect, you can’t expect me to sit here and do nothing if he is in danger. Is he in danger? Come on. You know me better than that. Marston knows me better than that.”

  “I do,” she agreed. “You’re right, which is why I can’t tell you anything else. Ethan is fine.”

  I chuckled humorlessly. “He had you call because I won’t yell at you like I would yell at him. I’ll stop my interrogation because I’m too polite to yell at you, Tessa.” I sighed and stared down at the patterned carpet. “Marston knows me too well. I’m not happy about this. I’m not happy at all.”

  “He’d rather you be unhappy than worried sick,” she pointed out kindly. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

  “Thanks, Tessa,” I replied, feeling frustrated at the lack of information yet simultaneously grateful for the reassuring phone call. “I appreciate that you reached out. Please tell Marston that I said he’s an ass, and he better get back soon.”

  Tessa giggled on the other end of the line. “I’ll do that. Goodbye, Robbie.”

  “Bye, Tessa,” I muttered before hanging up my phone and tossing it onto my desk. I ripped off another chunk of doughnut with my teeth and chewed thoughtfully.

  I knew that the phone call was supposed to reassure me that Marston was okay, but if they were keeping secrets from me, that could only mean one thing. Marston was involved in something dangerous. Since he wouldn’t voluntarily rope Tessa into this, chances were he was in New York. I only hoped that he wasn’t up there doing what I thought he was doing.

  As I sipped my cappuccino, I managed to convince myself that Marston’s trip was funding-related. That had been the one thing lately that he’d been keeping from me. I knew that he was working with Farr to dig deep on MBLIS’s budget and funding issues, but he refused to get me involved for some reason. It would make sense that this sudden trip was somehow affiliated with his recent secrets.

  The Mezzanotte crew, the mob in New York that chased my family into hiding, was only a small fraction of what New York had to offer. I may have been focused on them simply because it hit so close to home, but it was much more likely that Marston’s visit bore no connection to my current problems. By the time I reached the bottom of my paper cup, I was almost completely convinced of my theory. I had to be right because if I was wrong, that meant that Marston was getting into some major trouble that I wasn’t sure he would be able to get out of.

  Without anything to do but worry, I decided to focus my energies on my more pressing issues. I hadn’t seen my parents in a while. That creepy feeling I’d had that night when I went jogging had persisted since then. I felt it when driving, walking, even in my own home. The last thing I wanted to do was bring my parents even more risk by attempting to visit them.

  When I’d explained things to my dad as best I could, he’d been very receptive to my concerns. My mother, on the other hand, had reverted to being a nervous wreck. I felt terrible for dumping even more worries into her lap, but I’d felt it was important that they knew what was going on. As much as not seeing them broke my heart, I knew it was f
or their own safety.

  As I packed up at the end of the workday and headed down to the garage for my daily turbo-boosted therapy session, I remembered my empty fridge at home and decided to stop and pick up some groceries. The parking lot was fairly empty, but I still opted to park at the vacant far end to lessen the risk of door dings on my baby.

  The shopping was pretty uneventful, except for the fact that all of their bananas were browning. When I finished buying everything I needed, I rolled my cart out across the now-dark parking lot and noticed there were quite a few more cars filling the lot. I was happy to see that my Lancer was still on its own, but there were a few vehicles close by. I unlocked my car and began to load everything into my trunk. As I headed over to return the shopping cart, a dark figure darted out from the far side of a pickup truck and tackled me. I hit the blacktop, and a sharp pain shot through my hip.

  “Do you think we’re not onto you?” The deep voice overhead had a thick accent that took me a minute to place.

  I winced through the pain. The shopping cart slowly rolled away as a second figure jumped out and began kicking me in the ribs. I curled up protectively as I tried to hide the fact that I was reaching into my waistband. When my hand found the grip of my pistol, I twisted myself so that I could get it free, and then scrambled into a crawl to gain some distance between myself and my attackers. They ran after me, but I popped up onto my feet and pointed my pistol at them. One of them had their palms up defensively, and the other froze in place. I heard a series of curse words, and I suddenly realized where the accent was from.

  These men were from New York.

  They only hesitated a second before taking off in the other direction, away from me. I doubled over and braced myself on my knees before forcing myself to take deep, steadying breaths. Once my heart rate had slowed, and I couldn’t see any more immediate danger, I limped over to my car. I slid into the driver’s seat and quickly locked the doors before feeling safe enough to holster my sidearm.

  Before I went anywhere, I needed to call someone. Without Marston around to help, there was only one other option. I just hoped Diane Ramsey was still in the office. After what had just happened, there was no way I could simply go home tonight, not with the mob on my heels.

  Chapter 19: Ethan

  “Wake up.” Something sharp jabbed into my ribs, snapping me out of a wonderful dream. Tessa and I had been on a Florida beach, and then we stumbled upon it. It had been pulled up onto the sand, exposed to all the world, and yet no one could see it but us.

  The Dragon’s Rogue was in damn near perfect condition, and it was right where the map said it would be. I looked down at the notepaper with the crudely drawn outline of a map, and down on the East coast of Florida was a big X.

  X marked the spot, alright. And she was a beauty.

  Another sharp stab into my ribs ripped me from the sand and slammed me back down onto the living room couch. I was back in Brooklyn, and Header was standing over me with a serving spoon. The handle end was inches from my ribs. I muttered a select few words at him as I pushed myself up to a seated position.

  “What’s so damn important that you had to wake me up?” I asked a bit more harshly than I’d intended. “I had a nice dream going there.”

  “Yeah,” he chuckled. “Something about how beautiful she is and how you’ve waited so long to meet her.”

  “Oh, shut it,” I muttered. I looked around the room and found it empty, while the rest of our team sat around the small table outside. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, we were hungry,” he announced, “and the neighbors have a grill.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Suddenly, I was much more receptive to what he had to say. “What are we cooking?”

  “Oh, you know me. Go big or go home.” He beamed mischievously at me.

  “Steaks?” I guessed.

  “You got it,” he confirmed cheerfully. “They’ll be ready in a few minutes. Get your act together and come outside.”

  He walked back out through the sliding glass door, and I heard him announce that I was awake right before the door clicked shut behind him. I eased up off the couch and shuffled into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and snap out of it. The dream was already dissolving back into my subconscious, and the more I tried to remember it, the faster it slipped away.

  When I walked out to the patio, the smell of garlic, onions, and steak hit my nose.

  “Sit,” Header demanded, jabbing at an empty chair with the dirty tongs in his hand. When he opened the grill, I saw the onions tossed with potatoes and some other vegetables in a cast-iron skillet, while the thick cuts of meat sat on the grates next to it. Tessa was sitting beside me, and when I met her eyes, she grinned excitedly back at me.

  “It smells amazing, doesn’t it?” she murmured.

  Header whipped around and jabbed his tongs at all of us. “This cannot leave this house,” he ordered. “If Rosa finds out I can cook, she will stop cooking. That can never happen, because she is an amazing cook, and I have very few tricks up my sleeve.”

  I laughed loudly at that. Rosa was on Header’s team down in Puerto Rico. She was an amazing woman. She ran in the SEALs with Header, and she could probably kick his ass, but she was also an EMT and an amazing cook on top of all of that. While Holm and I were in Puerto Rico on our most recent case, we got to experience her cooking firsthand. I would ordinarily tease Header for asking me to keep his secret, but knowing what I knew now, I completely understood where he was coming from.

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” I assured him.

  “I don’t know who Rosa is, so your secret is safe with me, too,” Tessa giggled.

  Bonnie narrowed her eyes at Header, but he kept his tongs fixated on her until she relented.

  “Fine,” she muttered, “I won’t say a word.”

  “Warner?” Header turned to the last holdout.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Warner announced.

  “Good.” With that settled, Header turned back to the grill and began plating the steaks and vegetables. He started handing the plates over to each of us in turn, and when I took mine, I suddenly realized just how hungry I was. The aromas coming off of my plate made my mouth water, and when I cut into my steak, the inside was cooked perfectly, with just the right amount of warm pink in the center.

  “Ooh, yes,” Bonnie groaned happily as she sliced off a corner of her steak and popped the piece into her mouth. “Perfect. Thank you!”

  The rest of us also muttered our thanks as we dove into our food.

  “My pleasure,” Header replied happily as he pulled up his own chair and began working on his own plate.

  We ate mostly in silence, the scraping of knives overlapping each other as we ate. The silence was only because the food was so good because once the plates started emptying, the conversation picked back up. Amidst Bonnie’s playful bickering with Warner about something he’d done during their research earlier, Header leaned toward me, his tone subdued.

  “I made a couple of calls earlier,” he murmured after swallowing his most recent bite of food. “I spoke to President García.”

  “García?” I repeated, pausing with my fork halfway to my mouth. “Why?”

  President García was the President of the Dominican Republic, and he was the one who had enlisted our help to stop the flow of cocaine flowing off of his island. The cocaine traffic was just a small part of a plan to remove him from office, and by solving the cocaine problem, we were able to save his position. Along the way, we’d had help from his daughter, Alejandra, who I still kept in touch with.

  “Something was bothering me about Bonnie’s discovery,” he muttered. “I felt like maybe we hadn’t left everything as clean as we thought we did.”

  “Did we?” I had to ask, even though I felt like I already knew the answer.

  “No,” he replied bluntly. “García said there is still a cocaine problem. He doesn’t think there are government ties anymore, but it still
needs to be stopped. He’s also worried about his job still being in danger since he doesn’t know who is behind all of this.”

  “He should be fine,” I shrugged, taking another bite of my steak. I chewed thoughtfully until something occurred to me. I swallowed hard.

  “Alejandra,” I whispered suddenly.

  “What about her?” Header placed his fork and knife down and focused on me.

  “She was working with us, with MBLIS, during that entire mission. That wasn’t a big secret. It would be easy enough for a certain New York family to discover.” I placed my fork down, too. I suddenly wasn’t hungry.

  Header sat back and looked over at Tessa. She was still eating, but she was listening closely. He looked back at me and sighed in defeat.

  “You’re right,” he agreed reluctantly. “If they knew enough to track Tessa, who should be inconsequential enough to them to fall off their radar, they’d certainly latch onto Alejandra, since she worked so closely with you. Once they figured out that the daughter of the Dominican president is working with MBLIS, I have no doubt they would have put a target on her father’s head.”

  “So, now what?” I sat back, at a loss for ideas. “We can’t be in two places at once.”

  “Oh, but we can,” Header nodded. “Let me call Doc. I’ll get my team out to the Dominican Republic to protect the García family and take a closer look at the cocaine traffic.”

  “Without you?” I teased. Header shrugged good-naturedly.

  “I’ve trained them well,” he assured me. He shoveled the last bit of food into his mouth before scraping his chair legs against the concrete, collecting his empty plate, and heading inside. “I’ll call them now. We will get this handled ASAP.”

  “Alright,” I called back. The mention of Alejandra now had me worried about her safety, too, although if there was any team out there that could do the job of protecting her, it was Header’s team. I trusted him with my life, quite literally multiple times, and so I trusted his team as a result.