Chance Collision (17 page)

“Damn. He’s expanding things?”

“Right. We need to take him down. There’re also rumours of collaboration with Russian traffickers. Girls from Russia, the Czech Republic, and especially Ukraine. They’re selling for more than any other nationalities. Bastards.” Her tone was firm and Lee made a fist.

Pete shook his head. “I’d like to shoot each and every one of them.”

“They’re better off getting raped in prison.” Lee smirked.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it.”

“We’re taking them down. Already put a dent in his organisation. It’s only a matter of time before Caselli’s behind bars.”

“So you’re missing New York?” Pete asked.

“Maybe my unit. Texas is a break from the constant action of the past few months, though.”

“Might be a good thing.”

“Well, every time Caselli’s guys come into town, little Antioch gets some action.”

Pete chuckled. “Something I could do without. Makes our murder rate go up.”

Lee winked. “At least my partner in Texas isn’t so bad.” Her dark gaze was inviting.

He stared, trying to decide if the innuendo in her expression was his imagination. She regarded him steadily, as if daring him to call her out. He didn’t.

The moment passed and soon he was leading her back to his unmarked, hand at the small of her back. Pete opened her door and Lee glanced at him.

“Detective.”

“Hmmm?”

Their eyes locked. Pete shifted on his feet like he was seventeen.

Lee grabbed his wrist and pulled him to her, standing tiptoed to press her mouth to his. Instead of pulling away, he lowered his head and met the FBI agent’s lips halfway. Pete took control and wrapped his arms around her.

She kissed him thoroughly, opening for him. Their tongues mingled, but Pete didn’t pull her closer and Lee didn’t push her way against his chest.

She was a good kisser. It was…pleasant. But it didn’t fire his blood or stir his cock. He didn’t need more.

Like with Nikki.

He pulled away on a sigh.

Lee stared up at him, one corner of her mouth lifted. Her brown eyes were clear of passion and amusement rippled across her gorgeous face. “Well, it was worth a shot.” The diminutive FBI agent patted his pecs with a flat palm.

Pete reared back. “Excuse me?”

“I thought I might be able to help you relax, but I’m not fool enough to think that kiss did anything more to you than it did to me. Guess you kissed the wrong girl.” Her gaze darted towards the hospital before meeting his again.

So his new partner wasn’t so oblivious after all. Then again, she
had
caught him with Nikki in his room. Probably hadn’t believed a word he’d said about nothing happening.

Speechless wasn’t often something he claimed. However, as Lee observed him, he couldn’t have kicked himself harder. She was beautiful, sensible and in law enforcement, for God’s sake. Could see eye to eye with his daily life. She
liked
him.

She would’ve taken him into her arms, and into her body. She might not have been turned on by their first kiss, but Pete could’ve convinced her. He was a good lover. He could make her feel good.

Why couldn’t he want her?

She’s not Nikki.

He swallowed a cringe. “I got nothing,” Pete whispered.

Lee laughed, actually laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, Pete. You’re a great guy. I like you. But someone else likes you more. Pretty damn good chance you feel the same way. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Her gaze was pointed. No emotion detectible in her voice. No sadness, no regret, just pure fact as she saw it. That was completely Lee.

He dragged his hand through his hair. “Dammit.”
She’s my witness
was on his tongue but Pete wouldn’t admit how spot on Lee was.

She smiled, throwing him off even more. “It’ll be okay.”

The
shhht
of the radio caught Pete’s attention, though the volume was low. He missed the first half of the transmission. “…fired. I repeat, shots fired.”

“Shit. That’s Mark Rodriguez,” Pete said. His stomach roiled, threatening to eject the lasagne. Without a word, he ran around to the driver’s side.

Lee yanked her gun from the holster as she climbed in the car. “Son of a bitch.”

Chapter Seventeen

Luciano Marchetti was the last guy Berto had ever expected to see again. But as he threw himself over his wife’s form on the hospital bed and fired his .357 Magnum Ruger, it occurred to him that Luca might be the last guy he saw, period.

Hell no. I’m gonna kill him before he kills me.

His arm burned where the first bullet had torn through. He’d taken a hit Maria’s battered body wouldn’t have survived. Barked at her to stay low and covered as much of her as he could.

Berto fired three more times, praying he hit the bastard. He only had two remaining shots in the revolver, though he had a nine-millimetre Glock in his ankle holster. Could he pull it in time?

“Fuck.” He gritted his teeth as a bullet ripped through his left leg.

The cop who had been guarding Maria’s room from the corridor wasn’t coming to the rescue.

Pain seared his side and the bed spun. Maria clutched at him, screaming. He heard pops and bangs as he concentrated on pulling the trigger for the last time.

Berto fought to stay awake.

Luca swore and backed from the room, grabbing his upper arm. He swivelled his body and Beretta, shooting in the other direction.

Maria was cursing in Spanish and English, begging Berto to live. Screaming she loved him. Held onto him until her nails dug into his wrist and forearm. But feeling was good. His other arm, his side, even his leg were numb.

He started to slip sideways from the hospital bed, but his wife’s arms encircled his chest. Maria did her best to keep him still and on the bed with her.

Other people were screaming—women wailing and deep voices shouting orders. Heavy footfalls were everywhere—some sounded as if they were coming closer, but others faded away. People must be running.

Everything echoed and his vision blurred. Maria’s bed became a Tilt-A-Whirl
.

“Berto, please. Berto,
por favor
!
Te amo
, Alberto Carbone! Do not leave me!”

He opened his mouth to assure the love of his life he was right with her, even though he was having trouble focusing on her beautiful face.

Berto tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but his arm wouldn’t lift, his fingers wouldn’t move.

Everything went black.

* * * *

“He’s just
gone
. I gave chase. He’s hit in the arm so the blood trail was easy to follow at first. Not sure who shot him. No idea where I lost him. I’m sorry, Detective.” Mark Rodriguez shook his head when Pete met his dark eyes. The guy looked about as haggard as Pete felt. “I can’t believe this.”

“You fought as hard as you could. We’ll get him,” Pete said, wanting to make the fellow cop feel better. “I’m glad you were here, though, dude. Got here quick, and Bobby’s gonna make it.”

Officer down.
Rodriguez’s call on the radio was something no cop ever wanted to hear. But Officer Bobby Roper had had on a vest. He’d been hit in the hip and shoulder, but his vitals were covered. He’d live. Thank God.

“He was already laid out in the hall when I got here. Gunshots brought me downstairs. But before that, my gut screamed something wasn’t right. Roper didn’t even get time to call out.”

Pete nodded and patted Rodriguez’s shoulder. “You did good, seriously. Your arrival saved his life…all three of their lives, actually. Get back down to Mrs Jenkins’ room. I’ll be there shortly.”

“You sure you don’t need me here?”

“Nah. The cavalry’s here. But thanks. Appreciate the offer.”

Cops hovered. CSI rounded the corner with black evidence kits. Neil gave Pete a nod.

“I’d offer my Spanish speaking skills, but looks like your FBI agent’s got it.” The cop gestured to Lee hovering over Maria Mata’s hospital bed.

The two women were speaking in rapid-fire Spanish.

“Dawson’s got it for sure. Just make sure Nikki and her gram are all right.”

“Gotcha, Detective. See you in a few.”

He’d let Rodriguez gain his bearings a bit more and take his statement as quietly as he could manage outside Mrs Jenkins’ room. The guy was a good cop—had been around for a while, but like most of APD, tonight was probably the guy’s first shooting. Would rattle even the best veteran cop.

Pete sighed. His heart hadn’t returned to his chest from his stomach until he’d heard Nikki’s voice on the phone. She was fine. Gram was fine. Officer Benton had them in the room.

Protected.

She’d told him to handle his business.

It’d been the first real conversation they’d had since their argument. She’d sounded concerned, but not scared. That was good. Helped him deal. Pete wanted to be back upstairs, with her in his sight…in his arms.

A woman with blonde hair, wearing a white coat hovered. “Are you in charge here?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Mrs Mata is my patient. I need to move her.”

“As soon as Agent Dawson is through, I don’t see a problem with that, Dr…”

“Holmes. Thanks.” She gave a curt nod.

“How’s the husband?”

Neil and his team discreetly slipped into the room behind Pete.

“He had four GSWs and one entered the abdomen. It’s a good thing they were here at the hospital. We got him right into the OR. I can’t say for sure, but the blood was dark. Stomach or liver.” Dr Holmes’ expression became grave.

“Dammit,” he muttered. He should’ve never dragged his feet on talking to Carbone about WitSec. They could’ve already been out of Texas. “Will he live?”

“We got him mostly stable before he went under the knife. He’s got a shot.”

Pete wouldn’t sigh in relief. It was too soon. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll check on my partner and the wife. Give you a holler when we’re through.”

“Thank you, Detective.”

“Pete Crane. Here’s my card.”

The doctor nodded, slipping his business card in her lab coat’s pocket after a glance.

Chloe made scene and was already questioning hospital personnel. Pete gestured to her. “Sergeant Stein over there will probably speak with you, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”

He was at Lee’s side in a few strides. They made eye contact, then the FBI agent looked back at Alberto Carbone’s woman. Pete followed her gaze.

Maria’s face was streaked with tears. He could feel her anguish. His gut tightened.
Let Berto make it, please.
He wasn’t usually so empathetic—especially considering the man’s past—but the look on the wife’s face was enough to slay him.

Nikki kept popping into his head and he remembered hovering over her too-still form, unconscious and bleeding. Maria Mata was in the same position.

Maria sobbed, sucking in great gulps of air.

Lee grabbed a box of tissues and handed it to her. “Shhh, it’ll be okay. He’s going to be okay.” She threw a glance at Pete and he nodded.

“I just talked to the doc. He’s in surgery, but he’s gonna be all right.”
Please, God, don’t let us be lying to this poor woman.

“Luca… He’s a cruel man. He…hurt me…before my Berto found me.” Maria wiped her face and blew her nose, taking another tissue when Lee offered the box again. Her heavy accent combined with emotion shook him as much as her expression. This beautiful woman had really been a trafficking victim, like Cole had told him. She didn’t need to deal with that world all over again. Much less lose the man who’d saved her.

“He won’t hurt you again.”

Lee’s dark gaze bit him. She clenched her jaw and frowned.

Yeah, yeah, Pete had been on the job long enough to know better than to promise something, but he knew in his gut they’d get Marchetti. Right now, dead was looking better than alive.

No doubt his FBI agent partner would lay into him later.

“The doctor would like to move you to a new room, Maria,” Pete said. “All done?” he asked Lee, keeping his tone light.

“I think so.” Lee took Maria’s hand and squeezed. “It’ll be okay.” She reverted to Spanish. Pete didn’t understand her words, but they sounded encouraging and Maria’s mouth even turned up in a small smile.

Lee sighed and shook her head as they hit the corridor. “Dude, you know better than that.”

Pete made a fist. “I didn’t lie to her. We’re going to get the bastard. Hey, do you know anyone in the Marshal’s Office?”

Her dark brows drew tight. “Witness protection?”

“Damn, you’re good.”

She smiled a little, but Pete could tell he wasn’t quite off the hook. “I do, actually. But don’t tell your partner.”

“My partner?”

“My friend used to…date…Cole Lucas.”

“Date?” Pete laughed when Lee rolled her eyes. A four-letter word came to mind, but it didn’t start with a
d.
He wasn’t going to say it out loud, though.

“Anyway, I’ll give Madison a call. She’ll probably fall over if I tell her Lucas is married. With kids no less.” Lee palmed her cell.

Pete grinned. “Good deal. I was worried about Carbone agreeing to WitSec when Chief and I talked about it. Hopefully when he’s out of surgery and we can chat, he’ll agree.”

“No doubt his wife will.” The phone rang a few times. “Hey, Maddie, it’s Lee.”

He left Lee to talk to her friend, crossing his fingers the woman would help. Strolling back to Maria’s room, he looked at the blood trail leaving the room and leading down the wide hallway. Mark had said the bastard was hit in the arm.

Neil was already on it, gathering samples. “Think it’ll match what we found at Health Solutions?” the guy asked, looking up at Pete.

“You know it. Damn I want this bastard.”

“He is doing a great job of tearing up our city.”

“Tell me about it.” Pete shook his head.

“Pete,” Lee called.

“Yeah?”

“Madison said she’d be happy to help.”

Chapter Eighteen

Pete sank into the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. After the day and night they’d had, he just wanted to sleep. His shoulder ached dully. The old wound hadn’t bothered him for a while, but he should’ve known better than to assume it was gone. An adrenaline dump always brought it to life again.