“Nick,” Waverly admonished. “You don’t have anything to bargain with here. If you won’t agree to this plan, we’ll send a different agent to back up Miss Bannon.”
“Really? Who? Who else could you send that has a built-in cover already? If you send someone without a solid cover, you risk Gonzalez thinking the DEA is involved. He’ll kill Lily without even attempting an exchange.”
Heather sucked in a breath.
Nick immediately regretted his candor. “I could be wrong.” He didn’t believe that, but he didn’t want Heather to give up hope, either.
“Your concern for Heather Bannon’s welfare is commendable,” Rickloff said. “But you’re overthinking this. We’ll have backup nearby. She won’t be in any true danger.”
Rafe made a sound of disgust.
His boss shot him an admonishing look.
“If Gonzalez pulls a gun on Heather,” Nick asked, “can your backup get there faster than a bullet?”
Rickloff’s jaw went rigid. “If you’re convinced we can’t protect her, then agree to the plan. You can be the one to protect her. You’ll buy us the time we need to move in if something goes wrong.”
Nick shook his head. “Find another way to save Lily and bring down Gonzalez. I’ll take my chances with Internal Affairs. And Heather can take her chances with the judge.”
He strode toward the door and yanked it open.
“Nick, wait,” Heather called out.
He half turned, his hand still on the doorknob.
Heather appeared to be struggling for words. She folded her hands on the table and aimed her sad eyes at him like the sights on a rifle. “I can handle this. I’m an experienced private investigator. That might not seem like a big deal to a DEA agent, but it means I’ve been in a lot of tough, dangerous situations. I’m adaptable and a quick thinker if things don’t go as planned. I’m also an excellent marksman, so I can defend myself, or watch your back. I
can
handle this.”
“You’re still a civilian, untrained in law-enforcement procedures,” Nick said, softening his voice, trying to make her understand his concerns. “You shouldn’t have to defend yourself against a drug dealer, or worry about watching anyone’s back. You’re also emotionally involved. That makes you vulnerable. And that makes you dangerous to yourself and everyone else.”
Heather’s eyes practically flashed sparks at him. “Look, I know Lily is screwed up, but she’s still my sister. She’s my twin. There’s a bond between us other people—people without twins—can’t possibly understand. It’s like...we’re two halves of a whole. If something happens to her, I don’t...I don’t know if I could survive.” She drew herself up, lifting her chin defiantly. “I
am
going to do this, with or without you. But I’d feel safer if you were the one to help me.” Her fingers curled into fists on the top of the table. “Nick, I’m begging you. Please. Help me save my sister.”
The plea in her voice was difficult to ignore. But all he had to do was think about her being shot, or worse, tortured, by Gonzalez or his men, and his resolve hardened. He searched for the words that would make her accept the reality of the situation. “I’ve spent months, years, going undercover with guys like this. They live by their own code. They don’t care about the law. If they even suspect you’re lying, about anything, they’ll try to kill you. Trust me on that.”
“I do trust you. I trust you to protect me. I don’t have to know much about the DEA to realize that these men wouldn’t be arguing to get you to work on this case if you weren’t the best agent for the job. I want the best for my sister. If you don’t do this, Lily could die.”
Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. It was probably killing her to ask for his help, after what she’d been through this weekend and his role in it. And watching her, listening to her, was tearing him up inside. But how much worse would it be if he gave in? No matter what angle he used to look at this plan of Rickloff’s, he couldn’t see any good coming out of it.
A tear slid down Heather’s face and she wiped it away, her face turning the dull red of embarrassment.
Nick swore beneath his breath and glared at Waverly and Rickloff. “You’re both bastards.”
Rickloff nodded. “Maybe I am. Maybe we both are. But when this is over, I have faith that Gonzalez will be behind bars.”
“And do you also have faith that Lily and Heather will be alive? And unhurt?” Nick asked, his voice low and deadly.
Rickloff let out a deep sigh. “If you don’t agree to help, I’m still sending Miss Bannon undercover with another agent. Is that what you want? For me to put her life in the hands of someone else? Someone who isn’t as good as you? Someone who doesn’t have as good a cover as you have?”
Nick swore again. He dropped his hand from the doorknob and turned fully around. He stared at Rickloff for a long moment before turning his gaze to Heather. Without looking away from her, he spoke to Rickloff. “All right. I’ll go to Key West. I’ll help you get Gonzalez and get Lily out of there. But I’ve got some conditions of my own.”
Chapter Four
Waverly crossed the conference room to stand next to Rickloff. “Now listen here, Nick. You don’t get to set conditions or make demands. You do what we tell you to do. You do your job.” He jabbed his finger against Nick’s chest.
Nick grabbed Waverly’s wrist and held it in an iron grip. Waverly’s eyes widened when he tried to pull his arm back but Nick didn’t budge an inch. The look of alarm on his boss’s face was almost comical. Waverly had only ever seen Nick in his “charm” mode. A smile, a joke, fast-talking, were Nick’s usual methods for getting what he wanted. But when the situation demanded something more, he had no problem taking it up another level. Especially when a woman’s life was at stake. And, as much as he hated to admit it, especially when that woman was Heather.
Only the fact that Waverly was his boss kept Nick from shoving his arm when he let go.
“I wasn’t talking to
you
when I said I had conditions,” Nick said. “I was talking to
her.
”
Heather’s eyes widened.
“Everyone out, except Miss Bannon,” Nick ordered. He ignored Rickloff’s and Waverly’s grumblings as his brother and Buresh herded everyone out of the room.
Rafe pulled the door shut behind them, giving Nick a quick nod to let him know he’d guard the door.
Nick stood directly in front of Heather’s chair and leaned down, intentionally using his size to try to intimidate her. “You aren’t going to Key West,” he growled. “With
anyone.
”
She raised her chin defiantly and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes. I am.”
“No. You aren’t. You’re going to stay here. You’re going to move in with my brother for a few weeks. He’s a police officer, a damn good one. He’ll keep you safe in case Gonzalez’s buddies come looking for you. I’ll go to Key West and try to get your sister out of this mess. But no way in hell are you coming with me.”
She was shaking her head before he finished his last sentence. “No. You heard Rickloff. He said Gonzalez will kill Lily if I’m not in that bar to meet him. I am going. With or without you.”
“I’ve been on dozens of undercover operations. What Rickloff is asking you to do sounds too simple, too easy. Nothing in the world of drug dealers is that simple or easy. He’s hiding something.”
“Like what? Why would he hide anything?”
“I don’t know. But it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t pass the smell test. I don’t trust Rickloff. He’s from the Miami office, leading a task force to capture a dealer in Key West. But he hasn’t notified the special agent in charge at the Key West DEA office. Something isn’t right here. Rickloff’s motives are suspect, and this plan of his is far too dangerous and risky.”
“Okay, what’s the alternative? How do we find my sister and get her back safely?”
He shoved a hand through his hair and blew out an exasperated breath. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Well, we don’t have time for you to figure it out.”
Nick stared down at Heather, surprised at how stubborn she was being. She’d always been so easy to get along with. She could be the hard-nosed P.I. when she had to be, but he’d seen the soft, passionate, feminine side of her and had never expected her to defy him like this.
The only time they’d ever argued was after a phone call between Heather and her sister. When Heather told Nick her frustrations about Lily’s behavior, he’d flat out told her Lily was a drunk and needed to be in treatment. Maybe he could have worded his conclusions in softer language, but when Heather had insisted her sister wasn’t an alcoholic, the two of them had ended up in a heated discussion.
She hadn’t backed down one bit and he’d ended up apologizing, even though he firmly believed she was wrong. Now, as he stood in her personal space, purposely trying to intimidate her into giving in, he wasn’t having any more luck than he’d had the first time they’d argued. Instead, she stared up at him, her eyes flashing with anger. And something else.
Fear.
She
should
be afraid, for
herself.
But he knew she wasn’t. She was afraid on behalf of her sister, and recklessly willing to do anything to help her, even if it meant putting herself in danger. He finally accepted that no amount of arguing was going to change her mind. Intimidation wasn’t going to work. He sighed.
“I’ll help you get Lily back,” he said, “but like I said earlier, I have conditions.”
She darted her eyes toward the closed door, as if by sheer will she could get Waverly and Rickloff to step inside. “What conditions?”
“First, we’re through, finished. There is no ‘us’ anymore. And there never will be.”
“Agreed.”
She answered so quickly Nick was taken aback. He’d been prepared to explain about his job, how he couldn’t date anyone tainted by illegal drug activity, even indirectly through a family member. He’d planned to tell her he still cared about her, that he regretted how things had turned out. But there was no point in apologizing now, not when
she
so obviously didn’t want a relationship with
him
anymore.
That knowledge stung far more than he would have expected.
He rested his hip against the table. “Second, you do exactly what I tell you to do at all times. I mean it. Exactly what I say. Unquestioningly. If I tell you to get down, you drop on the floor as if someone had swiped your legs out from beneath you. If I tell you to be quiet, you don’t even breathe until I tell you it’s safe. Can you do that?”
Her eyes widened with alarm, as if she was just beginning to realize how dangerous this mission was.
“O-okay,” she said, her voice soft, hesitant.
“Three, you report to me and me alone. I don’t care what Rickloff or Waverly tell you. One phone call to them at the wrong place, wrong time, could get us killed—you, Lily and me.”
“Why would you think they would ask me to call them?”
“It’s what I’d do if I were them.”
She nodded. “Okay. Is that all?”
He shook his head. “No, there’s one more condition. And it’s a deal breaker. You already agreed to my other conditions. Remember that. One of those conditions was to do exactly what I tell you to do.”
“I understand.”
“Okay. Final condition. We’ll go to Key West together, but you’ll stay in hiding, in my hotel room with another agent watching over you, while I go to that bar to draw Gonzalez out somehow. I
will
figure out a way to save your sister, but I refuse to use you as bait. It’s too dangerous.”
She raised her hands in a gesture of surprise and frustration. “How will we save Lily if I’m in hiding?”
“Leave that to me. You have my word I’ll do everything I can to save her, but putting you in danger is not part of the plan. I meant what I said. This is the deal breaker. You agree to this or I’m out. And you already know I’m the best agent for the job or Rickloff wouldn’t have tried so hard to convince me to do this. So what’s it going to be?”
She stared at him for a full minute, frustration and anger warring with each other across her expressive face. Even though she didn’t want to agree to his final condition, she obviously knew he was her sister’s best shot at making it out of Key West alive.
He glanced at his watch, well aware of how urgent it was to get moving soon or there wouldn’t be a chance to help Lily at all.
Heather let out a long breath and glared at him, obviously not happy, but resolved.
“I guess I don’t really have a choice,” she said. She shoved out of her chair and headed to the door.
“You made the right decision,” Nick said.
“I hope so.” She paused in the door opening. “Because I’ve decided Lily’s best chance is with someone
other than you.
”
* * *
N
ICK
AND
R
AFE
leaned back against the desk in the SAPD squad room. They both had their legs spread, arms crossed, as if they had nothing better to do than to watch the fiasco playing out in front of them.
Waverly and Rickloff stood on the other side of the room with the small group of agents who’d come up from Miami with Rickloff, talking to Heather. Apparently they were giving her last-minute instructions while one of the agents grabbed her suitcase that she’d gone home and packed after telling Nick she didn’t want his help. Her refusal to trust him still stung, but he supposed he’d earned that by letting her sit in jail all weekend and not giving her a chance to explain what had happened.
“I heard they’re flying out to Key West in the morning,” Rafe said. “They’re going to a hotel by Jacksonville International Airport for tonight.”
Nick grunted in reply.
“They’ll arrive at the Key West airport around noon,” Rafe said. “An agent from Miami will meet them there with the kilos and drive Heather to a hotel. I might have even heard a rumor about which hotel they’ll be using.”
“One of those infamous contacts you brag about, I suppose?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t suppose you also know the name of the Miami agent they’ve chosen to go to the bar with Heather?”
“I might.”
“That could prove useful.”
They watched in silence as Heather shook Rickloff’s hand. She and the entire entourage headed across the far side of the squad room toward the exit. Heather didn’t even look Nick’s way.
“Are you sure you’ve made the right decision?” Rafe asked, stifling a yawn as he, too, watched the group head to the exit.
“Yep.”
“If Waverly fires you, I could put in a good word for you at SAPD,” Rafe said. “We have an opening for a meter reader. A washed-up DEA agent might be qualified for that.”
Nick shoved him.
Rafe shoved him back.
Waverly held the door open for Heather, and the small group headed out front. They stood at the curb, apparently waiting for the van from the airport that was heading toward the front of the building from the end of the parking lot.
“He’s not going to fire me,” Nick said.
“You sure about that? He seemed pretty ticked that you didn’t go along with Rickloff’s plan. I haven’t seen his face that red since you cleaned him out at poker a few months ago.”
Nick sighed. “I miss poker nights. I can’t believe you let Darby cancel our poker nights.”
“Let her? Are you implying the decision wasn’t mine? That she has me wrapped around her finger?”
“I’m not
implying
anything. You’re her lapdog. Ruff, ruff.”
“I’ll pay you back for that.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“This is serious. You could lose everything.”
“Yeah. I know,” Nick said quietly. “But I’m still going through with it.”
While Heather’s luggage was being loaded, she and her entourage got inside the van. Apparently they were all accompanying her to the airport hotel. Nick supposed that was their way of pretending they were actually protecting her instead of sending her into an impossible situation where the odds of her being hurt, or killed, were enormously high.
The van slowly took off, as if it had all the time in the world.
Nick tapped his hand on the top of the desk beside him as he and Rafe watched the van’s slow progression. The van turned the corner and disappeared.
“Where is it?” Nick demanded, shoving away from the desk. He grabbed his go-bag of clothes and toiletries from where he’d hidden it inside a small office trash can.
Rafe reached behind him and grabbed a set of keys from out of a folder. “First row.” He tossed the keys to Nick, who was already running toward the exit. Nick caught them midair and ran outside. He heard Rafe running to catch him, but he didn’t wait.
He sprinted around the corner of the building.
“Damn it, Nick. Hold up.”
Nick stopped at the narrow chain-link gate, but only because he didn’t have a key to open it. “Hurry,” he said, as Rafe pulled his key card from his pocket. “It’s a long drive and I’ve got a lot to do before they get there tomorrow.”
“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying.” The gate buzzed and Rafe pulled it open.
Nick ran inside, immediately spotting the car Rafe was letting him borrow from the impound lot. He whistled and ran his hands lovingly over the sleek contours of the red Maserati GranTurismo convertible.
Rafe caught up to him and called him a name that would have given their mother a heart attack, especially coming from her oldest, the son who could do no wrong.
Nick grinned. “You’re jealous I get to drive this sweet baby.”
“No. I think you’re a fool to have chosen this car out of all the ones I told you about. I would have chosen the black Lamborghini over there in the corner. Much less flashy.”
“Flashy is the point. It’s what my low-life friends expect down in the Keys. Besides―” he opened the door, pitched his go-bag onto the passenger floorboard and paused “―I may need a backseat. You never know when you’ll have to carry something, or someone, and need the room.”
Rafe exchanged a long glance with him, obviously understanding Nick’s meaning. If Heather and her Miami agent ran into trouble, Nick might end up being their only way out. He couldn’t do that with a two-seater.
“Don’t scratch it,” Rafe said as he closed the door. “And no bullet holes this time. There was hell to pay the last time I let you borrow a car. I mean it. Not even a scratch.” He ran to the car gate a few feet away and pressed the button that started the gate sliding back on its rails.
Nick started the engine and backed out of the parking space. He would have preferred to get a car from the DEA impound lot, but his boss knew him too well. He’d given express orders that Nick wasn’t allowed to check out any vehicles.
As soon as the gate was open wide enough for him to squeeze through, he stomped the accelerator. The car jumped forward like a gazelle, swift and graceful. He waved at Rafe as he zoomed by. He had to ease his foot off the gas to maneuver through the narrow, winding road by the police station. But as soon as he reached US 1, he turned the car south and let the horses run.
Normally when he got to drive one of the impounded sports cars, he would marvel at the perfectly tuned engine or the luxurious feel of Italian leather seats he’d never be able to afford in an entire lifetime of working for the DEA.