Fractured (18 page)

She shook her head. “Lieutenant, you know that's not my style. I'm not wired that way.”

“You're going to have to change your circuits then, Sanchez. You can't control the universe no matter how hard you try.”

“But it involves my father's murder…somehow.”

He gave her an ‘I-thought-you-didn't-give-a-crap-about-your-father' look, but didn't say the words. “The only way to go at this is to let Malone in on what you found.” He held up his hand to her protest. “I know. I know. But I'm telling you the guy is solid. He might play things a little close to the vest, but I think he's okay.”

Frustration ebbed through her like a swell before a tidal wave. The lieutenant didn't get it. Although he normally had an excellent BS meter, this time he must have been letting Malone's aggressive nature intimidate him, which she found hard to believe. But it was difficult to refute the obvious.

“What happens if Isaiah ends up on the bad end of this? Will you be singing Malone's praises then if we could have done something?” She didn't wait for the his response.

There were very few times when she and the lieutenant disagreed. Okay, truth was he mostly let her go with her instincts. When he put the brakes on like this, she took it personally.

That only gave her two options. She had to either go it alone, or enlist help from Landry.

She had her hand on the door and was about to leave when she thought of another missing piece to the puzzle. “Lieutenant, do you know why the file about my father's murder conviction is missing?”

He had already put his reading glasses on and slid them down his nose to peer at her. “It should be downstairs, but I guess the Feds could have checked it out to examine it.”

“Wouldn't they have to sign out for it?”

“That would be protocol. Did you check with Jenny?”

“Not yet.”

“Chances are it's probably misfiled, or she hasn't put it back yet, but check with her to see for sure.”

“I'll do that.”

When she got to her desk a few moments later, her phone rang. “Detective Sanchez.”

“Why'd you lose my guy this morning? And how come you didn't go straight in to work?” The voice was irritatingly familiar.

“Malone?” A minor victory. Surely he could sense the smile on her face.

“You got a death wish, Sanchez?”

“Not particularly. Just a need to do things my way without your interference.”

“Don't think you can outsmart a Fed.”

“I must have, since you're calling me to find out where I went.” This was the first conversation she'd had with Malone she actually enjoyed. Based on the less-than-calm tone, he was rattled, which served to ratchet up her satisfaction level.

“We're trying to protect you.”

“You didn't do so well with my father, did you?” She let the sting sink in for a few seconds before continuing. “Besides, maybe I did a little shopping.”

“Try another one, Sanchez.”

“Last I heard I didn't owe you any explanation about my whereabouts.”

“You need to accept the fact that sometimes you can't control the outcome of every investigation. I don't want to tie your hands, but I will.”

“How will you do that?” A prickling sensation throbbed at the base of her skull. He'd pulled out the big guns.

“I can make sure you're sent out of town on assignment, for example. Or take you into protective custody.”

She straightened in her seat. Ten minutes ago she thought she might not be able to get any more frustrated. Now she knew differently. He was playing hardball.

“That's bull and you know it.” The Feds could pretty much do whatever they wanted. She knew that.

“Then don't make me tie your hands.”

* * *

Isabella was bored, despite the fact her life had somehow become one gigantic disaster. The real rub was she would need Landry's help if she wanted to get any further in her own investigation, which made for some major complications. First off, she didn't like having to rely on anybody but herself; secondly, she wouldn't blame him if he was still mad.

Drumming her fingers on her desk, she waited for him. But instead of stopping by her desk, he waved and walked right into the locker room. Jonas didn't stop by, either.

Now what?

Even Matthews, her partner, wasn't around to distract her. He was at the gun range trying to qualify for sharpshooter's status so he might be selected for the SWAT team.

He admitted he didn't really care about SWAT, but figured making it on to the unit would make him a total chick magnet. That was definitely a Matthews's thing.

Instead of sitting around and waiting, and hoping Landry might check back with her before he went on patrol, she decided to check with Jenny about the missing file. At least that might be somewhat productive.

Jenny was straightening her desk and shutting off her computer by the time Isabella arrived. “Jenny, I'm glad I caught you.”

“What's up?”

“I was looking in the old records and couldn't find a file. Do you have the sheet for ones that have been checked out?”

“I keep the sheet, but I swear nobody pays any attention to it.” Jenny showed Isabella a clipboard. “According to this, nobody's pulled out a file in over a year, but I see people going down there all the time.” She shrugged. “Maybe they don't always bring it up with them, but I've got to believe sometimes they do. They just ignore protocol.”

“Have you noticed anybody going down there lately?” As much as she wanted to throw the Malone carrot out, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

“Half the office goes down there for one thing or another. Matthews is down there all the time, but, to be honest, he usually has some unsuspecting female in tow.” She smiled as if she'd been taken in by his so-called charms herself a time or two. “That Fed guy went down there, but I didn't see him come back up, so he might have brought something up with him. Taylor and Jonas were down there the other day, along with Trickel and Burrows. Like I said, everybody's down there.”

That didn't help much.

Landry was shocked to see her number on his caller ID. After spending the last few nights camped outside her house in his car in case the stupid Fed fell asleep or something, he was beyond exhausted.

“Hello, beautiful.” He kept his tone light, even though he wanted to lock her up someplace safe to protect her from herself. Taking chances had always been her modus operandi, but lately she'd been completely out of control. He suspected the whole fiasco with her father was bothering her a whole lot more than she'd let on.

“Could you stop by after work?”

“I knew you'd need a booty call sooner rather than later.” He laughed, although he knew instinctively that wasn't the intent of her call.

“That might be a by-product if you're lucky. How do you feel about going undercover?”

“Sounds intriguing. Care to enlighten me?”

“Schmidt Packaging. Stop by your place and bring some I-just-got-out-of-prison clothes. We can talk details later.”

“I should be there around eleven-thirty.” After he hung up, he noticed Jonas staring at him.

“Isabella have another one of her harebrained ideas?” Jonas's tone seemed different this time. Normally he responded like a father to an energetic but wayward daughter, but lately he'd been sounding more frustrated than anything else. No doubt the troubles with his son were heavy on his mind.

“Not sure yet, but it's looking that way.” Landry shrugged, not sure why he didn't want to divulge anything to Jonas. Maybe it had to do with him already playing the part of a double agent working with Malone on this case. Bringing Jonas along for the ride seemed to be stretching the limits too far. Besides, the truth was he probably didn't want to see that look of disgust in Jonas's eyes.

“That girl is going to wind up dead if she doesn't watch out,” Jonas said.

Hearing those dire warnings come out of Jonas's mouth sent a chill clear down Landry's spine. That's precisely what he was trying to avoid.

* * *

Landry brought the pizza and beer with him. He set their dinner on the coffee table and pulled her next to him on the couch. She divulged what she'd been up to, and his blood pressure went through the roof.

“What?” Landry tried to tamp down the anger. Isabella was out of control, and he had no way to reel her back in. “Lou was waiting in your car and you're just now telling me. You meet up with your long—lost aunt who tells you to watch your back. So of course that means you meet some guy in Grant Park without back-up, without a plan. Are you crazy?”

She shrugged off his comment. “I've had a busy couple of days. Besides, I'm not all that sure that the Feds aren't monitoring my phone. I wouldn't put it past Malone. This is the first chance I've been able to talk to you in person.”

“How do you know they haven't bugged your place?” His heart beat at twice its normal rhythm. If he didn't figure out what was going on soon, Isabella would get hurt, especially considering all the crazy chances she'd been taking. As usual, she was a woman on a mission.

“I checked it out and didn't find a thing. We're safe to talk.”

“Lou tells you he's been communicating with your father in prison. He also tells you Malone's been to visit him and tells you your mother was killed as a result of bad blood between the Aces and the Kings. Then you meet up with some kid who tells you that he knows the person who's behind this, but won't tell you—”

“Ramirez. It's got to be him. The kid looked too scared for it to be anybody else.”

He cursed. Then cursed some more. At this very moment, Landry wanted nothing more than to book a flight on the next plane out of here and drop her in the middle of Alaska or Siberia or someplace far away.

“But he also mentioned his jailbird brother is working at Schmidt Packaging, which is where the tie-in comes.” She clasped her fingers with his. “Which is why we need to go there tomorrow and see what we can find out.”

Landry figured he could play this two ways—he could call Malone and get him to put Isabella in protective custody to keep her safe or he could work his way into her plans in order to minimize her exposure.

* * *

The combination of a night filled with incredible sex, coupled with having Landry's arm wrapped around her while she slept, had done wonders for Isabella's insomnia. While she relished her independence, being half of a couple definitely had its perks.

In the morning it felt normal when they showered together before getting dressed. The increased intimacy of this new relationship with Landry wasn't lost on her. There'd somehow been a shift this time around. Knowing their history together, she wasn't sure why or how or even if it would last. But, for the time being, it felt right.

Despite his willingness to go along with her plan, she now felt reluctant. Not only was she putting Landry's life in danger, but her plan could potentially put both their careers in jeopardy.

“Are you sure?” She chewed on her lip trying to decipher whether or not he'd be honest with her.

He was cooking breakfast, folding the omelet in the pan and shifting it onto a plate. “It doesn't seem to be all that hard. If things go south, call it in. We'll spend a whole lot of time explaining things to the lieutenant, but I can't imagine we'll get into that much trouble. Besides, the lieutenant likes you.”

“I'm not so sure about that anymore. I'm being a pain in the ass.”

“How is that any different than normal?”

She smiled while her brain tried to think of another way. “You know I'd go in there myself except the owner saw me.”

“And the fact that, from what you say, mostly men work there. Speaking as a guy, they probably wouldn't be able to get past how hot you are.”

She laughed. “That's a good one, Landry. A hopelessly pathetic attempt to get in my pants, but I've got to give you an A for effort.”

“Okay, first off, I already got in your pants, so no ulterior motive there. Secondly, that sexy vibe broadcasts off you like some kind of dick alarm. Ask any guy at the station, he'll tell you the same thing.”

“I'd ask for an explanation, but it seems relatively self-explanatory.” She shook her head. “I'm not sure that's very flattering, but I guess I'll take it, even if you are hopelessly prejudiced. Let's face it, I'm skinny, flat-chested and my hair…” she pulled at one of the strands to illustrate her point. “Half the time I look like a coffee-colored, dark-haired version of Bozo.”

“Now you're fishing for compliments.” He sipped at his coffee.

Actually, she was trying to postpone the inevitable. Now that she had Landry involved, she couldn't think of a way to get him uninvolved, and it made her nervous. She had no trouble risking her own neck, but risking his as well was something different. That was why she liked to work alone.

“Only speaking the truth. Besides, I thought the guys at the station considered me a ball-buster, at least that's what I always heard behind my back.”

“True, but that's not necessarily a bad thing if a guy's up for the challenge.” He gave her one of his sexy smiles followed by a wink. “Enough stalling. We need to get going in order to make this thing work.”

She huffed and tried to dispel her nerves. After she gave his ‘convict clothes' the once over, she fussed over his hair. “Your clothes should work, but you probably should wear a baseball cap to cover your good haircut. Prison haircuts don't look that good.”

“Fine.” He nodded and donned a baseball cap he'd fished out of his duffle bag. “Finish your omelet and let's go.”

It didn't take them long to get to Schmidt. She drove his car and stopped about two blocks away. He pulled the baseball cap lower on his forehead and gave her a kiss before getting out of the car.

The passenger-side window whirled down when she pushed the button. “I'll wait a few minutes, then park by the alley. Mill around the back and try to make contact. I'll keep watch with my binoculars. If I see anything strange, I'm calling it in.” Guilt squeezed her chest. It took everything in her not to stop him. But it was too late.

At this point, she knew there was no way Landry would back out. Based on the downright giddy expression on his face, she would bet he wouldn't back down no matter what. Normally she was the one who lived on the edge, but today he seemed to be taking over that role.

“Lighten up, Isabella. I'll be fine. I'm only going to nose around in broad daylight.”

His rationale sounded logical, but the creepy sensation inside wouldn't go away. “Please be careful. And try not to look so…” she struggled to find the words.

“Cocky?”

She nodded, but that wasn't exactly the word she searched for. “Remember, you've just gotten out of prison. You should look more desperate or something.”

“I'll work on that.”

“Channel your inner criminal.” Nervously tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, she watched him walk away and tried not to focus on all the things that might go wrong.

Being a cop was a job hazard in more ways than one. She'd seen more despicable things than the average person. And every one of them flashed through her brain as she considered Landry's mission.

Instead she forced herself to think positively. She never worried about herself like this. Landry was as capable as she was, maybe even more so because he didn't have a penchant for taking stupid risks.

She valiantly tried to settle her scattered thoughts. After easing the car away from the curb, she slowly made her way to the prescribed location. But when she got there, a car had taken the spot with the best vantage point.

Now what?

Waiting outside the car would be too risky, with or without binoculars; she'd either look like a hooker or a cop, and neither option seemed viable. On the other hand, going to the other side of the street gave her an obstructed view. A telephone pole and the hood of the car on the other side of the street stood in the way. In the end she didn't have any options and did a U-turn, pulling to the curb on the opposite side.

She slid down in her seat, put the binoculars up to her face and observed. It took her a few minutes to find Landry among the group of men milling about in back. His uniform of grey hooded sweatshirt topped with a plaid flannel shirt mimicked many of the men back there as well.

The only giveaway was his size. Taller than most of the others, he stood out. But that offered little reassurance.

If she got scared, she had every intention of running over there, gun drawn with back-up on the way, consequences be damned. Somehow she kept reassuring herself that that wouldn't happen. Sometimes her delusion worked. Sometimes it didn't.

From what she could tell, Landry wasn't getting the warmest welcome, which was understandable. No doubt if something was going on, they would be suspicious of any strangers.

She squinted hoping maybe it would allow her to see things a little clearer, but obviously that was pointless. Pulling out the handkerchief, she placed it on her lap for luck before glancing back at Landry.

He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, as did the other men. They all were engaged in a good old-fashioned game of posturing. Again, not all that surprising. She looked on, feeling helpless.

A truck rumbled down the street and pulled into the alley, effectively cutting off her view. Damn. No way could she sit there and be unable to see what was going on.

Uncertain what to do, she waited, tugging on the worn piece of cotton within her fingertips. Finally, the truck pulled away. Landry was nowhere in sight.

“Oh…my…God.” She could barely catch her breath as she cursed in twenty different ways in two languages. After berating herself for a good couple of seconds, she flung open the car door. She wasn't all that sure what she would do, or how, but she dialed Landry as she walked across the street.