Elite Metal-ARE-epub (65 page)

“It seems a little far-fetched that he would go to such lengths to secure your services as a reporter,” Chrome said. “There are thousands of reporters in the world, no doubt itching to work for the
Snoop
.”

Roni sniffed. “I’m very good. I found you, didn’t I? Besides, it goes deeper than that. He needs to keep me under his thumb because of the money.”

“The money?”

“My mom’s estate. According to her will, Marcus got a third. He’s blown through that. Now he’s working on Annabelle’s share and then I’m sure he’ll dip into mine. Aside from that…I know things about him.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Look, you don’t get where he is by not making shady deals. He has…friends in low places.”

Steele’s brow darkened. “What kinds of friends?”

“All kinds. He has politicians in his pocket, drug dealers, gang members. You name it.”

“And how do you know all this?”

She shrugged. “I might have hacked his computer.”

“His computer…” Steele shot Chrome a speaking glance. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Sure as hell, they were all thinking the same thing. If Morrow was going to investigate them, they were going to investigate him right the fuck back. And maybe they could find out where the original tip had come from.

Chrome nodded. “Let’s get Ant on it.”

They both stood; their chairs scraped on the floor.

“And in the meantime?” Sterling asked.

“In the meantime,” Steele said to Roni. “We’re going to have to hold you here.”

Sterling frowned. The holding cell was bleak. There was a hard cot and a stony pillow. And bars. She wouldn’t do well behind bars, he suspected. “I can watch her. Take her to my place?”

But Steele’s expression was adamant. He shook his head. “Until we know if she’s telling the truth, she’s staying down here.” He said it in a tone that made it clear. They were taking absolutely no chances she might slip away.

And that was that.

When Steele took her arm to lead her away, she shot a look over her shoulder at Sterling, a pleading glance. He set his teeth and looked away.

There was nothing he could do for her. Not now. Maybe not ever.

And goddamn, it sucked.

When they were gone, Chrome shot him a smirk. “So… I hear you’re phenomenal in bed?”

Sterling went red to the tips of his ears.

Chapter Six

It was a miserable night. For one thing, the cell they’d tossed her in was dismal. Three cinderblock walls and a rack of iron bars. The cot was hard and uncomfortable and the pillow intolerable. There was a toilet in the corner, but Roni couldn’t bring herself to use it because God knew who might wander by.

On top of that, she was hungry and cranky and, if she was being honest, scared.

It took a great deal of meditation, but she finally drifted off to sleep. She needed to be well rested to face whatever was to come. It was, however, a fitful sleep haunted by dreams of a beautiful man who didn’t think twice about betraying her to the enemy.

In the morning—it was probably morning, hard to tell in the bowels of the earth—someone brought her a tray with eggs, bacon and toast. And coffee. That was like ambrosia. The food was surprisingly good, for prison. After she ate, she lay back down and rested some more.

There was nothing else to do, after all. They’d confiscated her phone. Steve—or whatever his name was—still had her computer and all her stuff.

She didn’t allow herself to worry about what they might do to her, but she wasn’t a fool. If they really were a black-ops team intent on remaining a secret, they had only one option and that was to shut her up…for good.

So her mood was pretty bleak when one of the men who had interrogated her—a tall guy with short-cropped brown hair and a goatee—came to fetch her. He took her back to the room they’d used before. She had no idea why her heart leaped when she saw Steve standing there with a group of other men, all with stern expressions on their faces.

When she passed through the door, they turned to study her. She, in turn, studied them.

Well, shit.
Taken like this, in a herd, they were damned intimidating. They all looked hard and fierce and annoyed. All but Steve. His features softened when he spotted her. And damn. He looked worse off than she did. There were dark rings beneath his eyes and his hair was tousled. There was a pillow crease on his cheek. It shouldn’t have displeased her that he hadn’t slept much either, but it did.

“Gentlemen,” Goatee, the leader, said, gesturing to the chairs. Like toy soldiers, they all sat. He motioned to her as well and with a huff she took a seat. “This is Veronica Banks, daughter of Winnie Westmoreland. You may have heard of the family.”

“The Westmoreland Corporation?” one of the guys asked and Goatee nodded. Grunts rounded the room. Yeah. The family name was well-known, but it didn’t come with the power they might think. Her grandfather had sold out years ago and now, other than her and Annabelle, there was no one else left. They were all on their own.

“Veronica is the reporter who found us—”

“Roni.” This from Steve. Sharp and clipped. He glanced around at the curious faces. “She doesn’t like to be called Veronica, Steele.”

Ah. The leader was Steele. Yeah. The kind of name a guy like him might choose. He looked as hard as steel. Especially when his eyes pinned Steve with a sharp glare.

“Thank you, Sterling. I’ll make a note of it.” Steele’s tone was sarcastic, but Roni hardly noticed. Her attention snapped to
him
.

Sterling.

His name was Sterling. She had no idea why if felt so…right.

“We brought Veroni—Roni in last night. She outlined how she tracked us to Deep Ellum. What we don’t know is…where did the original tip come from? And how much does Morrow know? Ant? What did you find?” Steele turned his attention to a behemoth with shaggy dark hair and deep-blue eyes.

His face split into a grin. “Okay. First of all, this guy is a moron.”

Roni tried not to snort, but it didn’t take a covert team to figure that much out.

“His firewall was like cheesecake, so I backed up his hard drive for him.” A wicked chuckle. “We can wade through it later. But, uh…” He paused to clear his throat as a red flush crept up his neck. “This is what you’ll be most interested in.” He pushed a button and the overhead hummed into action, showing an email from Marcus’ Gmail account. The subject read:
Phoenix?

Ant flicked to the next slide so they could all read the message in closer view.

Chesterfield is looking for a thief near Dallas. BH found a trail in Deep Ellum and a surprise. Look familiar?

The next slide was a photo taken with a cell phone from inside a bar in east Dallas. It was dark and the quality not too sharp, but Sterling’s features were unmistakable. The guy he was talking to had his back to the camera, but the bio-hazard tattoo on his bald head was pretty recognizable.

A riffle went through the room, but no one spoke a word.

The response to the query came up next.

Elite Recon? I thought those fuckers were dead. Any more deets?

I’ll get my girl on it ASAP. Keep you posted.

Ant cleared his throat again. “Um…it appears Beth’s ex contacted Morrow after I took her, looking for information on me. I’m guessing this was taken from when Merc and Sterling where looking for me too. Sorry, guys.”

“Motherfucker, Ant,” Steele bit out.

“I’m sorry, all right?” He frowned at Steele. “And don’t you tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing for Alayna, so shove it up your ass.”

“Relax,” Sterling said. “All in the past, bro. What else is there?”

“It gets better,” Ant said in a dark tone. “I tracked the IP on the sender. Columbia. The recipient’s handle? Snowman.”

Wow. A shiver rippled up Roni’s spine at the sudden shift of energy in the room. Jaws clenched. Muscles bristled. Testosterone surged. Damn, these guys were mad. That their gazes—each and every one—snapped to her, made her want to cringe, but she suppressed it. It cost her, but she did it. Instead she quirked a brow.

“Did you know your boss was working with Escobar?” Steele asked, his hard gaze drilling through her.

Something lurched in her gut. She set her hand on her belly to calm it but it didn’t help. Escobar was a common name, she reminded herself. In Columbia at least. “Um. Who the hell is Escobar?”

“You’ve heard of the Santirios Cartel?”

Her heart thudded. Her breath hitched. Bile crawled up the back of her throat, just like it did every time she heard that name. Shit. She hated those motherfuckers. Hated them with a burning passion. Her mind flooded with a memory. Screams and shattering glass, the feeling of being weightless, helpless, tossed around like a rag doll. Covered in sticky blood. Slicing pain.

Sterling cleared his throat, bringing her back into the room, though the haze of hate still veiled her vision. She nodded; it was a jerky offering.

“Escobar, the kingpin of the cartel. He goes by the moniker Snowman.”

“Would he—would he be the one giving orders?” How she got the words out, she didn’t know.

“Most likely.” Steele nodded.

“And why would he care if you are dead or alive?”

“We might have pissed him off a while back,” Ant said with a wicked grin.

“If he even suspects we’re here…” Steele let the sentence lie there.

Again, all their eyes turned on her. She swallowed heavily. Having so many predators study her at the same time was disturbing, but not as disturbing as the knowledge that—according to what she’d been able to uncover—the Santirios Cartel had arranged the accident that killed her mother. And not half as disturbing as confirmation that Marcus was in cahoots with the cartel.

If he was in league with the people who had killed her mother…it only stood to reason that he’d had something to do with it. She’d always suspected he was responsible, but she’d never been able to prove it. Until now.

And Annabelle? Living with Marcus? Vulnerable to his whims? The thought made her blood run cold. Her resolve firmed.

By God, she would make him pay. She’d make them all pay. And she would get her sister back.

“But what if he didn’t?” she said.

Steele frowned. “What if he didn’t what?”

“What if he didn’t suspect you were here? Alive? What if Marcus reported back that it was all a case of mistaken identity? That there was no story here to follow?”

Sterling pinned her with an intent gaze, but this one didn’t make her nauseous. In it she saw a glimmer of hope. “What are you saying?”

“What if I report back that there’s no lead here to follow? The old
these-aren’t-the-droids-you’re-looking-for
ploy.”

“Would he buy it?” Steele asked.

“Probably.” She nibbled a lip. “But he’d be more likely to buy it if I came up with another story. Something close, but different enough to throw him off the scent… A hard-ass ex-military biker club in South Dallas riding to cure breast cancer.”

Sterling barked a laugh.

“How do we erase that photo?” Steele muttered, glaring at it as though he could make it go away. “Who knows how many factions it’s been spread around to?”

“That part is easy,” she answered. “You hack into the Dallas PD server and plant a report about two bikers killed in a freak accident, with photos that resemble these two. It’ll get picked up by the news media and there’s your cover. No doubt the guys hunting you will assume someone else got you first.”

“She’s devious,” Ant said. “I like her.”

She had no idea why Sterling glared at him.

“Why would you help us?” Steele’s question was harsh but held an undertone of optimism.

“To fuck Marcus over?” To strike back at the Santirios Cartel?

“Why?” Sterling asked in a dispassionate tone.

Roni fixed him with a steady stare. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Besides… If you are a high-level black-ops team, I have no doubt you can help me get what
I
want.”

The room went quiet. Just as she expected it would.

Steele steepled his fingers. “And…what is it you want?”

Roni sucked in a deep breath. “I want my sister back. I want full custody.”

“And if we help you get your sister back, you’ll help us?”

“In a fucking heartbeat.”

Steele studied her for a moment then glanced up at a camera in the corner. Then he nodded and stood. “I’ll be right back.” He gestured to the others, who followed him as he left the room. All but Sterling. He stopped beside Roni on his way out the door.

“Are you serious? About helping us?” he asked softly, though why he bothered to whisper was a mystery. She knew they were listening.

She nodded. It wasn’t just self-preservation driving her—the fact that they couldn’t let her leave because she knew too much. The prospect of getting back at Marcus was too tempting to resist. And paying the cartel back for what they’d done? It made her salivate. But more than that. If anyone could help her get Annabelle back, it was these guys. She just knew it.

“Well?” Chrome crossed his arms and leaned against the desk. “What do you think, Sterling? Is she telling the truth? Is she really willing to turn on Morrow?”

He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“What does your gut tell you?” Steele asked.

“My gut says she’s on the level.”

“Mine too,” Ant said. “In that slew of emails you woke me up to read in the middle of the night—and thank you very much for that—were a bunch from her asking about Annabelle.” His lashes flickered. “Begging, really.”

Chrome frowned. “Any intel on the sister?”

“Shit, yeah. That was the easy part. It was all over the news. She was injured in the car accident that killed her mother. Apparently Roni, her mom and her sister were in a car driving on Mulholland Drive in the Hollywood hills. Real
wind-y
, Mulholland. Anyway, another car came out of nowhere and ran them off the road. Off a cliff, really. A bystander caught the whole thing on video.” He opened his laptop and tapped for a minute, then turned it around so they could all watch. It was a horrifying scene, shaky and overlaid by the gasps and cries of the person holding the camera. “According to the deposition, the witnesses were driving behind a Mustang, which was following a Mercedes. They started filming when the driver of the Mustang began moving erratically.”