Authors: C.J. Miller
“I have changed,” Cash said.
Mitchell took the picture from Cash.
“Did you sleep with her?” Lucia asked.
“No!” Cash said. Even if Mitchell didn’t believe him, he had to react the way a lying boyfriend would.
“I have another surprise for you two. I’m not a trusting man. Neither is Anderson. He’s been worried about his godson.”
Cash inwardly flinched, but said nothing. Anderson was his godfather, a fact that existed in the files of a church, but had no other meaning.
Mitchell handed Cash another folder. He opened it. It was a file on Lucia. Mitchell had blown a hole in her false identity. Lucy Harris didn’t have an employment history or tax records. Cash didn’t read anything in the file about her being an FBI agent. How much did Mitchell know and how much more could he find out? It might be too soon to hit the panic button, but Cash was flailing.
He quickly decided on a plan and hoped Lucia caught onto it. “So what? Her name isn’t really Lucy Harris. I knew that.”
“You did?” Mitchell asked.
Cash guessed he’d been expecting a different reaction from Cash. Panic or fear, but Cash wouldn’t lose it. He’d given up the life of conning people, but his ability to control his emotions and his reactions were what had made him a good liar. It was a rough truth to admit, but a useful skill.
Cash reached for Lucia’s hand. “I knew who she was when I met her. She knew who I was. What’s your point?”
“I need to know the people I’m dealing with,” Mitchell said.
Lucia pulled her hand away from Cash. “You slept with another woman.”
Cash gave her points for fixating on the part of the story that would upset her most if they were a couple. “I did not sleep with Audrey. I’m trying to build a better life for us. I love you. I want our future to be happy. I want people to see us as more than an ex-con and an ex-addict.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” Mitchell said. “I don’t like being the last to know.”
“I need to tell him,” Cash said.
Lucia appeared miserable. “It’s not part of my life that I’m proud of.” She was speaking in a whisper.
Cash patted her hand. “We have to tell him, Luc.” He faced Mitchell, leaving his hand covering Lucia’s. “Lucy was an addict. She’s five years clean, but her past has a way of following her. She uses a pseudonym so she can have a fresh start and a fair chance.”
Mitchell didn’t look as if he believed their cover story. Even if he did, the threads of uncertainty were loose. The more he looked into Cash and Lucia, the more likely he’d stumble onto something that would give them away.
“I don’t like that you lied about who you were,” Mitchell said.
Lucia narrowed her gaze at Mitchell enough to come across as defensive, but not aggressive. “You’ve never needed a fresh start? You’ve never made a mistake that you’ve had to pay for all your life? I was too young and too rich and I spent too much time doing nothing. I got into trouble and in over my head. Now, I’m clean. I’m sober. I like it. I won’t apologize for being a better person and trying to do better with my life.”
Mitchell held up his hands. “I’ll pass this along to Anderson. We’ll be watching you both.”
And monitoring him. Cash’s immediate concern was for Lucia, but now he was worried about Audrey, too. She’d need to be warned to stay away from the casino.
As Lucia and Cash were leaving Mitchell’s office, they caught a glimpse of Kinsley Adams. She was leaning against one of the blackjack tables. She had a drink in one hand and was laughing at something being said to her.
Cash was caught for a moment, wondering about her and Mitchell. Was she happy? Did it matter?
Then the sound of gunfire peppered the air.
Cash grabbed Lucia and pulled her back into the hallway leading to Mitchell’s office.
He peered around the corner and scanned for the source of the gunshots. It couldn’t be a police or FBI raid. Their FBI team was outside, but they wouldn’t storm inside the building and start shooting without warning with two of their own inside.
It took Cash a moment to process the scene.
Preston Hammer was holding a gun and waving it in the air. The man’s body language was telling a violent and dangerous story. He was stressed out to a breaking point, he was possibly high and he was on the edge of snapping. Threatening the people in the casino was a suicide mission. If it wasn’t for the off-hours appearance, Cash guessed one of Anderson’s men would have gunned Hammer down where he stood.
Hammer leveled his gun at Kinsley and strode toward her. Cash weighed his options. If he stepped out from the hallway and Hammer saw him, it would blow his cover. Mitchell and Anderson knew Cash was working for the FBI, but they didn’t know he was working the Holmes and White case. If they did, it wouldn’t take them long to realize they had been right and Cash had inserted himself into their organization to dig for information about the stolen money.
Could Cash con Hammer into believing he was on his side? Hammer was swearing at Kinsley and when he moved close enough, he’d kill her. He might even turn the gun on himself.
Cash started into the casino and Lucia grabbed his arm. “I’ve already texted Benjamin. Wait here for help to arrive.”
They couldn’t wait. Hammer was on a hair trigger. If no one intervened, Kinsley’s life was at stake.
“Trust me.” He kissed Lucia’s cheek and stepped away from her.
“Hey, man,” Cash called. As long as he wasn’t too friendly with Hammer, he could play off the interaction as if he was a stranger interceding. “I’m Cash Stone. Tell me what’s going on here.”
Cash took a drink from a slack-jawed waitress staring at Hammer.
Hammer turned, swinging the gun in Cash’s direction and Cash prayed Hammer’s trigger finger was steady and not poised to twitch at the slightest disturbance.
He’d get Hammer talking and do what he could to diffuse Hammer’s intent.
Cash didn’t want anyone to die today and that went double for him and Lucia.
Hammer narrowed his eyes in confusion. He was trying to place Cash. Cash knew the moment he did because annoyance screwed up his features. “What do you want?”
“I’m wondering if we can take a break for a second.” He gestured to the gun. “Maybe you forgot where you were, but believe me, that will get us killed.”
It was too soon to make a play for the gun. Cash was close, but not close enough. He intentionally slurred his words and tried to appear as calm and nonthreatening as possible.
“This doesn’t involve you,” Hammer said. He looked around nervously. “Did you call the police?”
Cash waved his hand dismissively, grateful Hammer had said police and not FBI. “The last people I’d want to see are the police. I don’t have a good explanation for what this is or why I’m here.” He laughed softly and lowered his voice. “And as a convicted felon, my word is the last one they’d believe.”
Hammer twisted his lips in thought, perhaps trying to remember what Cash had said about himself the first time they’d met. Hammer had been drunk then and was on something now. Cash was using his confusion to lead the conversation where he wanted it to go, to protect Hammer’s life and maintain his and Lucia’s cover. “I have something to finish here,” Hammer said, pivoting to where Kinsley had been standing.
When Hammer realized she was gone, he let out a howl of frustration and a litany of curses. “I need to talk to her. She left me. She took everything from me and then she wouldn’t even return my calls.”
Cash didn’t have to feign sympathy. The wrong woman could turn a man’s world upside down, shake it and slam it back down shattered and broken. “I know, man. I’ve been there.”
Hammer lowered his gun. “You?”
“Every man has. I could tell you how I landed in prison, and you’d hear all about how a woman played a vital role in getting me there.” A lie. Britney had had nothing to do with the scam he’d run to get the money for Adrian’s treatments. But Cash needed Hammer to see him as a friend and someone who could sympathize with him.
“This is the wrong way to do this,” Cash said. “There are cameras here. There are people who would kill us, not because they care about protecting some woman, but because this place is run by businessmen serious about making a profit and they won’t let anyone stand in the way.”
Hammer scratched his head. “I know.”
His arm lowered a few inches.
“Let’s grab a drink. Not here. Somewhere we can talk in private,” Cash said.
For a moment, he thought he had Hammer. He thought the man had given up on this murder-suicide mission. Then Hammer’s face switched from relaxed to angry. He lifted the gun. “This ends now. I can’t do this for another day. I can’t wake up and know I’ve lost everything. Everything.”
“It’s not everything that’s lost. You have family. Friends.” Cash couldn’t show too much familiarity or Mitchell would want an explanation for how Cash knew Preston Hammer.
Hammer looked around. “I’m dead. I came here with a gun and I knew I wouldn’t make it out alive.”
Cash heard the conviction in his voice. The next few seconds were critical. He needed to stop Hammer from making a huge mistake. People around them were backing away but Hammer didn’t seem to see anything except the small space around him. His world was closing in and Cash knew he’d end it. “I’ve been where you are. I’ll walk you out of here. No one will shoot us.”
“Hammer, we told you to stay away.” Cash heard Mitchell’s voice behind him.
Cash looked over his shoulder at Mitchell who was pointing a gun at Hammer. Now two guns were in play and Cash was standing between them. He took a step out of the line of fire.
“He and I are heading out,” Cash said.
Both Hammer and Mitchell answered in the negative.
“He stole her from me,” Hammer said, glaring at Mitchell with rage in his eyes.
“Stole? I didn’t steal her. She was working with you because I asked her to. Because we needed someone inside to keep you distracted. Turns out, it was easier than we expected,” Mitchell said.
Cash inwardly cringed at the condescension in his voice. Belittling Hammer was a mistake and would add to his fury.
“I figured out what Anderson was doing,” Hammer said, sounding defensive.
Mitchell nodded. “You did and you agreed to shut your mouth for the right payday.”
“Which I never got!” Hammer screamed.
“You should have walked away and forgotten about the money and about Grace,” Mitchell said. He fired at Hammer. His aim was off, but in the split second it took for Mitchell to realize that, Hammer returned the shot.
Hammer might have been a man with a death wish, but he was a good shot. Or a lucky one.
Mitchell stumbled back and lifted his gun again. Cash dove to the ground. Mitchell shot wildly in Hammer’s direction.
Hammer finally fell to the ground and the shooting stopped. Lucia appeared, pressing her hand over Mitchell’s chest. She was shouting something, but Cash couldn’t hear her over the screaming around him.
Cash wasn’t hit. At least he didn’t think so. Hammer was on the ground bleeding from a head wound.
Horror washed over him. He’d failed to stop either of them from shooting. He’d needed the right moment to redirect the situation and it hadn’t come.
Cash checked Hammer for a pulse and couldn’t find one. He fumbled in his pockets for his phone. Forget the operation. The money Anderson had stolen was nothing compared to someone’s life.
Before he could dial any numbers, paramedics and the police burst through the doors.
* * *
“We need to run,” Lucia said into Cash’s ear, pulling him away from the scene.
“What?” he turned to her.
He couldn’t take his eyes off Hammer and Mitchell. They were both unmoving on stretchers and being loaded into an ambulance.
“The police will question people. We won’t be able to explain to Anderson why we weren’t arrested. We have to flee.”
Cash closed his eyes. “Isn’t this over?” The mission had to be over. How could they keep going? Someone had died. He wasn’t naive. He knew that violence and death were part of Anderson’s life, but Cash had thought he could somehow avoid it. That he could prevent anyone from being hurt or killed.
Lucia shook her head. “Of course not. Do you want it to be over?”
Cash had been involved with criminals from the time he was a teenager. He’d been involved with them his entire life, but it had taken him that long to understand that the lives his father’s associates led were not on the up-and-up. His friends’ parents had had jobs where they went to an office or a store and clocked in for the day. Not his father.
Cash hadn’t saved Hammer. He hadn’t saved Mitchell. He had intervened and gotten in over his head, and now two people were dead.
He let Lucia lead him away because he didn’t have the strength to stop her. They got into her car and drove for several minutes before either of them spoke.
“Can you turn here?” Cash asked, pointing to the next right turn.
Lucia did as he asked. She didn’t question him.
“You did everything you could,” Lucia said.
“It wasn’t enough.” It was starting to feel as though it never was. When it came time to make critical life decisions, he almost always chose wrong.
“Cash, I’m sorry,” Lucia said, slipping her hand into his.
He pointed to another road and she turned, following his directions.
“Can you let me out here?” he asked.
Lucia glanced at him. “The last time I let you out of the car, it exploded.”
There was nothing humorous in her tone, but Cash understood the warning. They were being watched and followed. Whether it was the FBI or Anderson’s crew or someone who was targeting Lucia, they were not safe.
He hadn’t been certain of where he was going while they were driving, but now that he was here, he got it. Death had a way of dragging him to the darkest place in his heart. The graveyard where Britney was buried was acres of headstones, open fields and quiet.
“We’re safe here. We’ll see someone coming.” At least he hoped they would. He’d seen enough death.
“Is this where your wife is buried?” Lucia asked, getting out of the car after him.
“Yes.” He knew the exact location, even if every grave marker looked alike.