My Spy: Last Spy Standing (7 page)

BOOK: My Spy: Last Spy Standing
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She started with Ronny. “Want to tell me what that was about?”

The man shrugged.

“The Angel guy looks like bad news to me. He disliked you enough to take a shot at you. And that was before. Now he’s going to the can for it. How much you think he’s going to like you when he comes out?”

Ronny stayed silent.

“Looks like a gangbanger to me. You know his type. They come with a lot of close friends, and revenge is their middle name.”

Ronny was beginning to look nervous, squirming on the bed—a good start. A little more motivation and he would probably break.

“I don’t like outsiders coming into my town, causing trouble,” she said, hinting that she was willing to take Ronny’s side on this.

That seemed to help.

“He says I owe him money,” Ronny said at last, then swore colorfully and at length. “Lyin’ bastard. I ain’t owe him nuthin’.”

“Where is he from? I haven’t seen him around here. His tattoos don’t look familiar.” She knew most of the gang tattoos for the groups that were active in her county.

“San Antonio.”

“I don’t like it,” she said, half to herself, half to the man. San Antonio gangs moving down this way was the kind of trouble she didn’t need. “Are you getting into something over your head, Ronny?”

His shoulders sagged, his expression turning miserable. “My leg hurts.”

“I know. They’ll look at you in a minute.” She patted his arm. “Look, I got enough problems already. CIA’s here, pain in the neck. They’re investigating all that counterfeit money business. I got my hands full. How about we clear this up right fast and we all go our own way?”

His gaze cut to hers, panic crossing his face. “CIA’s investigatin’ here? In Pebble Creek, you mean?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “They take counterfeiting seriously. Thing is, you’ve kind of been implicated. I’ve been looking for you, actually.”

He cast a desperate glance around, opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “I have nothin’ to do with it, I swear.”

She nodded. “Then none of the bills I took off you will have any trouble going through the scanner? You know I’m going to have to check them.”

He froze, panic written all over him. Then Angel cleared his throat on the other side of the green divider and Ronny caught himself, sat up a little straighter in the propped-up bed. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“I have an eyewitness.”

He closed his eyes and grimaced, then, after a moment of hesitation, lifted his hands, palms out. “It was all Angel, I swear,” he said, obviously having come to a decision. He was more scared of the CIA than his gangbanger associates, apparently.

Something rustled on the other side of the green divider hanging from the ceiling. “Shut up,” Angel called over, his tone plenty threatening.

“I’ll get to you, Mr. Rivera. You just hang in there,” she told the man and made sure she didn’t turn her back to him.

He could try to grab her—even with one hand cuffed to the bed—if he was stupid enough to go for it.

She made sure she was ready for anything as she tried a few more tricks with Ronny, but he really did seem to be clueless. He got the bills from Rivera, and that was all the information he had.

When she was done with him, Bree pulled the divider open and stepped over to the other bed. “How about you continue the story? Ronny got the money from you. How did you come by it? You just took a shot at me. That’s assaulting a police officer. You want to be very helpful now.” She waited.

“No hablo inglés.”


Yo hablo español.
See? It’s your lucky day.” She flashed him her nicest smile, even though she didn’t feel like it.

But Angel just stared daggers at her and wouldn’t answer any questions no matter what language she asked them in or what she promised or threatened. If looks could kill, she would have been lying at the foot of the bed in a sticky, red puddle.

She kept on until the doctor finally showed up to check on the men. While he did that, she stepped outside and called the CIA agent to fill him in. Now that Ronny had confirmed a connection to the fake money, she had something solid to pass on to the agent.

She might not have gotten a ton of information, but they were one step closer to the source of the bad money. Progress.

Agent Herrera could come and see if he might get further with the two dimwits if he felt like it. She also called Delancy to stay with Rivera until the man could be taken into custody. She needed to get back to the office and take care of other business.

* * *

B
ORDER
PATROL
WAS
a bust: no movement all day. Jamie used some of the time to call the lab to check on Bree’s envelope. Several times. They had a partial print, too smudged to be of much use, but they were trying to digitally enhance it before running it through all the databases again.

At least he made some progress with setting up witness protection for Rico Marquez and his girlfriend, calling around to make sure all the pieces were in place for a problem-free extraction.

He could have left it to the U.S. Marshals Service; they ran the program just fine. But he’d given Rico a promise, so he made sure he kept an eye on the process and was part of the decisions. He sure hoped Rico would have something usable for him in exchange.

When his shift was over, Jamie swung by his apartment—a utilitarian, sparsely furnished space he basically only used for sleeping—took a shower and changed before heading over to Bree’s place. He checked the perimeter first. She kept her property tidy, as did the rest of her neighbors. Seemed like a nice, family kind of neighborhood. She should have been safe enough here.

When he was sure all was clear and nobody suspicious was hanging around, he walked up to the front door and knocked.

“I should have locked you up for that fake twenty and all those weapons,” she said as the door opened. “Just to keep you out of my hair.”

She wore a pink T-shirt with jean shorts, her long shapely legs making his mouth go dry as they caught his attention, his brain barely registering the words she was saying. Then he blinked and caught up.

“You think of me and you think of handcuffs?” He wanted to see her off balance for once. “A man could take that as encouragement.”

But she just burst out laughing.

She was way too cheerful by half. Thing was, he kind of liked it. He’d lived in darkness for so long, she felt like sunshine on his face.

As she lifted her chin, he caught sight of a bandage on her neck and his whole body went still, his protective instincts plowing forth like a steam engine. “Are you hurt?”

She raised a perfect eyebrow. “Chill. Just a scrape. The bullet didn’t even hit me.”

He didn’t like the thought of a bullet anywhere near her. He wanted to ask how it’d happened, but he was interrupted.

“Who is that?” came a call from somewhere in the house.

He had thought they would be alone, that her sister would be asleep by now.

“That’s Katie, my sister. She stays up late to watch her favorite shows on Fridays.” Bree eyed him with hesitation.

He had no doubt she wanted to kick him out. But she was too much of a lady to do it—the beauty of Southern hospitality.

“It’s been a long day.” He piled it on. “Hot out there on that border. I sure could use a cold drink.”

Her sister stepped into the foyer and stopped, her eyes fixed on Jamie. She looked a lot like Bree in her coloring but shorter and slighter. She wore jeans and a T-shirt with a pink unicorn in the middle.

“Katie, this is Jamie, a friend from work,” Bree said.

“Are you a police officer?” She watched him without blinking, as if she had X-ray vision.

“Kind of,” Jamie answered. “How are you, Katie? Nice to meet you.”

“I’m watching my show,” she said after some time, then padded away, barefooted on the Mexican terracotta tile.

“She likes you,” Bree said, a frown smoothing out on her forehead. “If she didn’t trust you, she would have stood there until you left to make sure you were out of our space.”

He followed her into the kitchen, spacing out a time or two when his gaze slipped below her waist. Those shorts should be illegal. Then again, she was wearing them in the privacy of her home. He was the idiot for coming here and asking for trouble.

Katie paid little attention to them, sprawled on the rug on the living room floor in front of the TV, watching some crime show as intently as if she was memorizing every word.

Bree brought him a cold beer, along with a glass of orange juice for herself as they sat down, the same as before.

She caught his gaze on Katie. “Autism. She’s very high functioning. She really doesn’t need a lot of help,” she said with a proud, loving glance toward her sister, not as someone who was bitter or embarrassed. “She’s as good as you and I in a lot of things, and in some things she’s better.”

He wouldn’t doubt it. “You’re lucky to have each other.”

She tilted her head, her shoulders relaxing. “Most people say she’s lucky to have me.” She watched him for a second or two. “They don’t know anything.”

“I have seven brothers and a sister.”

She muttered something that sounded like, “God help the women of the world,” under her breath.

He added a silent amen. His brothers were... His gaze slipped to her legs. With a view like that, who could think about his brothers?

“Seven brothers and a sister,” she repeated, sounding more awed than snarky this time around. “That must be great.”

It was, even if he’d spent the past couple of years pushing his family away. He’d been in a dark mood after he’d come back from Afghanistan without his legs.

“We have our moments.”

He didn’t ask if she was from a big family. He’d read her file. She only had Katie. Her parents had both passed away a decade ago in a house fire. He glanced at Katie, who was watching her show, completely mesmerized. “You’re close.”

Part of him envied that connection. He’d had that before. And he couldn’t blame anyone for losing it. He’d been the one to push his family away.

“That’s the best part of having a sister.” She was smiling, but a shadow crossed her eyes.

“And you would want to keep her safe.” He came around to the purpose of his visit. “So if there was anything strange going on, you’d tell me.”

She straightened in her chair. “I don’t need your protection. Seriously, Jamie, you’re handsome and all, have that whole warrior thing going, but we have to stop meeting like this.”

She thought he was handsome? That tangled up his thought process for a few seconds. “Where would you like to meet?” A certain part of him was voting for her bedroom.

“On the phone when you call to update me on what your team is doing in my town,” she said deadpan.

She was a tough nut to crack. Good thing he didn’t mind a challenge. “How about your case? Any progress with the counterfeit money?”

“The CIA is here.” She gave a small shrug. “I caught two guys today who are connected. One doesn’t know anything, the other one isn’t talking.”

His gaze slipped to her neck again, the muscles in his face tightening as he reached out and touched the edge of the bandage for a second before drawing back. “You had a tough day. Might as well tell me about it. Chances are, if I get what I came for, I’ll leave faster. I want to know about what’s going on with your stalker.”

She rolled her eyes at him. But then her face grew somber as she thought a little before saying, “I got another envelope today.”

His body tensed as he watched her closely. “More pictures?”

She shook her head. “Something more personal. He took something from the house this time.”

His fingers tightened on the cold bottle. “He’s escalating. He came in. He’s getting closer.”

“I don’t think he’ll make contact. He didn’t before.”

Which meant absolutely nothing. “What did he take?”

“None of your business.”

He had to ask. “Anything that could be considered sexual?”

She nodded with reluctance.

Anger cut through him. “You know what that usually means in cases like this. He wants you and he hates you at the same time. It’s not a good combination.”

“I know. I thought about that. He was an adolescent boy the first time he became obsessed with me. Now he’s all grown-up.”

He turned that over in his head a couple of times, considering the implications. “Why come back now, after all these years?”

“He’s been living with his parents until recently. He took off without notice. I’m guessing he stopped taking his meds.”

More bad news. “What if he pushes even closer?”

“I’m a trained officer of the law. I’m always armed. Katie is never home alone. If I have to go back to the office for something, Eleanor, our neighbor, comes over. And Jason is not after Katie, anyway. He’s after me. He just wants to scare me and have a good laugh about it. He gets off on showing how clever he is.”

“You’re sure it’s Jason Tanner?”

“Pretty sure.”

He hoped so. A messed-up average Joe would be easier to handle than if the smugglers, ruthless killers, were coming after her.

“You got the envelope for me?”

She got up and brought it to him with a resigned shake of her head.

“Whatever he took is still inside?”

“Not a chance, buster.”

Of course, the more secretive she was, the more his imagination tortured him. He watched her from across the table, held her gaze. There were enough sparks between them to set her kitchen on fire.

He wasn’t sure what to do with all that heat. He’d never wanted anyone with this intensity before. He would have liked to think he had enough self-control to not cross certain lines, but the hell of it was, he wasn’t sure.

“I’m not relationship material,” he said, just so they understood each other. If anything were to happen, he wanted her to be forewarned.

She flashed him an amused look. “Good thing I’m not looking for a boyfriend. I’m not looking for a man at all, in fact.” She tilted her head. “Your being here is more like harassment than a date. We’re clear on that, right?”

“I don’t want you to be upset.”

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