InTooDeep (9 page)

He surveyed the photo but remained silent.

Rena clucked her tongue, giving the
impression she regretted having to make this decision. In reality, she’d known
all along it was inevitable. Some men just weren’t cut out for this life.

She stroked her fingertips along the edge
of the picture. “That’s Lieutenant Darrell Franklin. His home address is on the
back as well as a note for him. He should be there around seven this evening,
as he’s expecting me.” She sighed, kissed the tips of her fingers and touched
the photograph again. “Unfortunately, something’s come up and I’m not going to
be able to make it. So I’m sending you in my place.”

He inclined his head, understanding her
perfectly.

“Please make sure it’s clean. No trace of
evidence. No strings left untied.” She pinned him with a hard look. “You
understand what I’m saying, I’m sure.”

JT tucked the picture into the front pocket
of his t-shirt. “Yes, ma’am. You’ll be notified immediately upon elimination of
the target.”

Rena sighed her satisfaction, favoring him
with a beaming smile that made him stand up even straighter. JT was the type of
employee who basked in the appreciation of his superiors. She wondered if she’d
ever be able to find someone who needed the approval as much.

Unfortunately she’d have to try because, as
much as she liked the muscular employee, after this assignment, he would have
to be eliminated. As much as JT trusted her, she didn’t have that much faith in
anyone.

And she never left witnesses behind.

“What you’re after isn’t justice.” Hunt met
Carley at the door to the bathroom the second it opened. He’d been impatiently
waiting since she’d defected, and the tension had crept up the back of his
neck, settled in with the beginning stab of a migraine.

Carley ignored the statement and offered
one of her own. “I think I have the perfect plan. I draw Franklin’s attention,
get close to him and I have immediate access to the evidence you need. I just
need to come up with a good cover story but don’t worry. I can convince a man
in the desert he’s dying of frostbite.”

Hunt’s blood pressure shot through the
roof. “I don’t give a shit if you’re good enough to win an Oscar. You’re not
going anywhere near Franklin. He, or at least someone he knows, just killed
your sister, and I’m not about to put your life in jeopardy. You’re not trained
for this type of work.”

The second the words left his mouth he knew
he’d thrown accelerant onto an open flame. Her jaw tightened and her hands clenched
at her sides. And when she responded, her voice chilled as viciously as the
bite of a Chicago winter.

“You might have done some research on me
but you don’t know about what’s not in my jacket. My father lived a life of
crime long before I ever did, and he was damn good at it. He wasn’t just an
ordinary criminal.” She turned toward the mirror over the Victorian dresser.
“No, he dealt in high society burglaries, jewels worth millions of dollars. He
broke into places that, before he came along, had never been breached.”

She met his gaze in the mirror. “He taught
me everything he knew and I took what he taught me and improved upon it.”
Without waiting for a response, she left the bedroom and headed into the
kitchen.

“What does that have to do with getting close
to Franklin?” Hunt followed her, leaning one hip against the counter while she
opened the refrigerator and retrieved a bottled water.

“Do you know why you’ve never been able to
get the goods on Franklin? Because you don’t think like he does. I do. Maybe
not on all levels but certainly on most.”

“I doubt that.” Hunt’s brow furrowed. He
didn’t like the idea of her thoughts meshing with Franklin’s. To participate in
human trafficking, the man had to have lost his conscience—or never have had
one to begin with. Though he only knew a little about Carley, she had a
conscience.

“Really? Do you think Franklin lives his
life on the edge, waiting for the axe to fall? I know my father did. He was
always looking over his shoulder, waiting to get caught. We didn’t spend longer
than two months in one place, just long enough for Dad to pull a job. The only
difference I see here is that Franklin pretends to be one of the good guys so
he doesn’t have to move from place to place.”

Gathering steam, Carley plowed onward, leaning
forward to jab one finger into Hunt’s chest. “He’s so busy looking over his
shoulder he doesn’t have time to look in front of him. And that’s how I can
catch him.”

Hunt’s mouth went dry. He wanted to grab
her and shake her, to tell her the real reason why he couldn’t let her get
close to Franklin. The thought of something happening to her, of her voice
being on the other end of the line begging for help, threatened his foundation.

He dragged a hand through his hair, cursed
silently when it shook. “This isn’t happening, Carley. I don’t care if you’re
Houdini. You’re not getting anywhere near Franklin or this investigation, and
if I have to lock you up to make sure it doesn’t happen, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Really?” She didn’t sound convinced.

He watched her twist off the cap and tilt
the bottle back. As she swallowed the cool liquid, he slid his gaze over the
smooth column of her throat. She made even a simple gesture like taking a drink
sexy as hell.

Clearing his throat, he straightened and
walked closer to her, pinning her against the opposite counter. He breathed in
her scent, closed his eyes and waited for his world to balance. Damn. “Really.”

Carley gave him a grim smile. “Is anyone on
your team really prepared to step out on a limb and do whatever it takes to
stop Franklin and whoever he works with? Because from where I’m standing,
playing by the rules has gotten you nowhere. Don’t you think it’s time to break
some of those rules, to step across that blue line?”

Hunt was finding it a bit difficult to concentrate
with her soft breasts pressed against his chest. For a moment his brain went
completely fuzzy. “What are you talking about?”

“Sometimes, in order to get to the truth,
you have to get your hands dirty.”

Sanity returned with one blinding slap. Hunt
lifted his head and his vision grayed. “What the hell does that mean? How dirty
are you willing to get your hands to nail Franklin, to find your sister’s
killer?” Something hot flickered in her gaze. Wicked even. “Is there any line
you won’t cross?”

She shoved his chest but he didn’t budge.
“At one time I would have said yes, but I’m not letting Franklin walk away from
this. And if you really listen to what I’m saying, you’ll see I may just be the
best chance you’ve got of bringing Franklin down.”

“I am listening, Carley, but I don’t want
you to get hurt.”

“We’ve both chosen risky careers. And we’re
both still alive. We never know when the clock will run out but if it’s my time
I’d rather go out trying to get justice for my sister.”

Franklin tossed back the glass of scotch
and reached for the bottle, needing the extra fortification. Deciding against
wasting time with refills, he carried the half-empty bottle to the sofa,
sinking down into the leather with a grunt that was half satisfaction and half
dread.

What he was thinking could get him killed.
But keeping quiet would kill him anyway. Just much more slowly. He gave a short
laugh. What difference did it make? He’d had enough, enough of looking over his
shoulder, wondering when IA was going to catch him.

And he couldn’t live like this any longer.

Another swallow of scotch burned its way
down his throat and he dropped his head back against the sofa, his eyes closed.
How easy would it be to just pack up his stuff and leave? Just walk away.

The thought had its merits. He could
disappear. He’d certainly stashed enough money away to live comfortably for a
dozen or so years, maybe longer if he was frugal. As the idea worked its way
into a plan, hope resurrected.

Franklin jumped to his feet, sat the bottle
on the table and turned. Just in time to see the black-clad figure raise the
silenced weapon and point it at the center of his chest.

“Wh-what’s going on?” His mind faltered and
he wondered if he could make it to his backup piece stashed inside the top
drawer of his desk.

“Rena sent me. Unfortunately, she won’t be
able to join you this evening. Oh, and by the way, Dani Rivers isn’t dead. Rena
doesn’t like to throw away good merchandise.”

All the blood rushed from Franklin’s head.
“But I put her in the car myself. I saw her in the trunk.”

“The driver is very loyal to Rena. He would
never do anything without her knowledge.”

He couldn’t believe it. Rena had played
him.
Son of a bitch
. And now she’d sent her goon to take him out. Well
fuck that.

“I’ve got a message you can take back to
Rena.” Franklin offered the words as a way to buy time. He was a cop, and cops
always thought on their feet. If Rena thought he was going down without a
fight, she didn’t know him very well.

“She’s already given me her reply.”

Franklin didn’t really register what was
happening before the bullet burned its way toward his heart.

Chapter Nine

One look at Hunt’s face told Carley she’d
made her point, but that didn’t mean he’d change his mind or would seriously
consider her plan. In fact, the stubborn set of his jaw said quite the
opposite.

After draining the last of the water,
Carley tossed the bottle into the recycling bin and folded her arms across her
chest. “So what do you think?”

“I think it’s a crazy idea.”

“But you also think it’s a workable one.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s crazy.”
He rubbed his palm along his jawline, the late evening beard rasping against
his skin.

“It’s my risk.” She dared him to challenge
the statement.

“It’s your
life.
”

Carley’s chin went up. She would fight with
every breath in her body to win this cause. Surely he had to see how much she
needed to do this.

“So it should be my decision.”

He dropped his face into his hands and
scrubbed before looking at her over the tops of his fingers. “Not necessarily.”
His cell phone rang and he dug it out of the front pocket of his pants, holding
up one finger to silence further conversation. He answered the summons with a
brusque, “Detective Brandon.”

The second his eyes widened, Carley’s
internal alarm sounded. Something had happened. And it wasn’t good.

“When? Okay, I’ll meet you there.” He
clicked his phone shut and stared at it for a long moment before assuaging her
curiosity. “Our conversation is moot. Franklin’s dead. Clean shot to the
heart.”

Carley gripped the edge of the counter for
support. “He was the only link to my sister, the only way to find out who is
behind all of this.”

Hunt reached out for her, ran one hand down
her arm. “We’ll still get the truth, Carley. It’ll just take us a bit longer.
Wait here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He leaned in and kissed her once,
twice then strode out of the kitchen to the front door.

Closing her eyes, Carley tried to focus on
breathing, but it didn’t work. She couldn’t just stand here and wait for Hunt
to return. Franklin’s death told her whoever was behind the kidnappings was
cleaning up, and cleaning up always meant making a run for it.

If Franklin wasn’t Dani’s killer then the
real one could get away. Carley wasn’t sure she could bear that, and she didn’t
want to spend the rest of her life searching for a ghost.

“The mission is complete,” JT announced as
he approached Rena inside the warehouse.

Rena smiled and strolled toward him,
wickedly sharp stiletto heels clicking out a tinny rhythm across the concrete
floor. “Excellent. I’m assuming there were no unforeseen obstacles.”

“No, ma’am. No hitches.”

Suddenly the day seemed a little brighter.
“When I didn’t hear from you yesterday evening, I was concerned.” The reprimand
evident in her voice, she tipped her head back to see the man’s stony face.

“My apologies. I was detained.” The obvious
hesitation in his voice erased Rena’s sunny disposition.

“I’d like an explanation.” She released his
hands and stepped back. “Please.” Though the word indicated cordiality, Rena
preferred to use it as a subtle reminder of her position.

JT’s granite jaw flushed but he squared his
shoulders before responding. “When I left home last night, my wife followed
me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “All the way to
Franklin’s house?”

“No. She said she lost me, that she only
followed me because she believes I’m cheating on her. She called me several
times before I completed my mission but I didn’t respond to her until I
returned to the car. That’s why I was unable to call you. I thought it best not
to arouse her suspicions any further by attempting even a discreet phone call.”

Rena considered the excuse. It sounded
plausible enough but she’d never been one to take anything at face value and,
really, this situation couldn’t have worked out better if she’d planned it
herself. “How can you be sure your wife didn’t see you kill Franklin?”

JT’s brows lowered. “Because she said she
lost me, and I have no reason to disbelieve her.”

“Well I’m certain you’ll understand if I’m
not that trusting.”

“I would have known if anyone was watching
me.” The protest came off a bit more defensive than Rena liked. In fact, she
didn’t like any amount of defensiveness in her employees. Even worse, she hated
sloppiness, and JT allowing his wife to follow him smacked of sloppiness.

Making sure there were no loose ends was
already proving to be more difficult than she liked. She hated getting blood on
her hands, figuratively and literally. But Franklin’s death would only cause
the investigation to gain more traction, and since she had no intention of
being anywhere near the fallout, she had no choice but to follow through with
her original plan to eliminate all witnesses.

“Bring your wife to me.”

JT’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

She checked the gold watch on her left
wrist. “I’ll expect her within the hour.” As she began to walk away she paused
and looked over her shoulder to add, “And though I believe you wouldn’t be so
stupid as to even consider disobeying me, JT, you will be followed to and from
your house. One wrong move and you and your wife will become the next
assignment.”

JT’s retreating footsteps brought a heavy
sigh from her. She didn’t want to have to kill him but if there was one lesson
she’d learned and learned well, it was to never leave any crumbs behind. No
ties back to her. The mandate had served her well, and she wasn’t about to
break the rule now. JT and his wife would be the next targets. Slipping her
hands into sleek leather gloves, she adjusted the fit over her fingers and
stared down at her palms. She despised taking anyone’s life. It was just
so…barbaric, but she couldn’t risk handing this task to yet another employee.

She was so tired of cleaning up messes
other had left behind. And Franklin had definitely created a mess with the
Rivers girl. Rena had taken one look at the bitch and realized things were
going to get difficult, but she wasn’t about to walk away from over a million
dollars. That had been the latest offer for Dani, and Rena had accepted with
less aplomb than she liked.

Ordinarily she played it cool, negotiating
with her clients until they were both satisfied with the deal. This time she’d
simply been too eager to get the girl out of here.

She checked her watch again before hurrying
to the small side room she utilized as an office in the abandoned warehouse. If
JT followed her orders with precision, he’d be back here just in time.

And she could tie up this final loose end
before leaving the coastal city behind.

Hunt looked down at the back of Franklin’s
prone body, trying to decide if he was relieved or worried. With Franklin out
of the way, his undercover assignment would end, and so would his partnership
with Dave.

The plus side of things meant he could work
openly as an FBI agent with the full force of the agency behind him. Franklin
had been their only link to the trafficking ring but there was always more than
one way into a criminal’s house. It just might take them a little longer to
find the entrance.

“Hey, when did you get here?” Dave slurped
a paper cup filled with coffee and winced. “IA’s already outside, crawling over
everyone’s ass. Think this might be an inside job?”

Hunt squatted next to the body to get a
better look at the entry wound. “A lot of people might not have liked him but I
doubt anyone hated him enough to kill him. Clean shot. Looks professional.”

“Thought the same thing myself. No shell
casings but I’m guessing a 9 mm.”

“I’m in charge here.” The bellow bounced
off the walls as a large man wearing an expensive gray suit and Italian loafers
shoved his way toward the center of the room.

“Great. Captain Apain. Affectionately known
as A Pain in the Ass,” Dave muttered.

Standing, Hunt turned to watch the man
buffalo his way past the crime scene techs and uniformed officers. He came to a
puffing stop in front of Hunt and glared at him.

“I’m Captain Apain, and I’ll be taking over
this investigation. Both of you step away from the body.” His face flushed and
red, the ranking officer squared his shoulders and thrust out his chest. A good
head shorter than most men in the room, he had to use what he possessed to gain
attention, but neither the badge nor the bulk impressed Hunt.

He considered his options. Technically he
should report in before breaking cover, but this might be one rule he’d have to
break. With Franklin dead things were getting trickier. Whoever was behind the
kidnappings was obviously cleaning house.

Of course, his boss would have his ass for
breakfast, but he hadn’t met this captain. Hell, even his boss might forgive
him for this one. Until he knew just how many cops were involved, if there were
any more, he wouldn’t risk letting someone else take the reins. Leaving this
murder in the hands of the local police would be akin to handing over the
evidence to his killer.

Dave had already taken a step back and
called Hunt’s name in a quick staccato burst.

Shit. Dave. Hunt didn’t even want to think
about how pissed his partner was going to be when he learned the truth. If
there was one thing he hated the most about being undercover, it was the lies.
Especially those that affected innocent people.

“Detective, are you hard of hearing?”
Captain Apain closed the gap between them, using his considerable weight for
intimidation, but Hunt didn’t like to be intimidated. He liked this guy even
less than his tactics.

“My hearing’s perfect. I’m just trying to
make a decision here.”

“Hunt, for the love of God, get over here.”
Dave waved his hand in a frantic motion then made a silent chopping motion
across his neck.

“There’s no decision to make, Detective.
I’m in charge of this investigation and you,” Apain stabbed Hunt in his chest
with a blunt-tipped finger, “will clear out of here before I start getting
testy.” He spun to spear Dave with an equally nasty look. “Don’t just stand
there with your head up your ass. Get the hell out.”

Hunt looked down at the finger still
touching his shirt then back up to the captain’s face. What the hell. It wasn’t
like he’d never pissed his superiors off before.

With patience he didn’t feel, he grabbed
hold of the captain’s finger and slowly moved it away from the front of his shirt.
“Actually, you’re wrong on two counts. I’m not a detective, and you’re not in
charge of this investigation.”

The Federal Bureau of Investigation logo on
the computer screen brought a grim smile to Carley’s face. Hacking into the
government mainframe hadn’t been the easiest of jobs. Usually she had her team
to rely on but she hadn’t wanted to involve them, not this time. Now, as her
fingers flew across the keys, she’d have to move fast. It was only a matter of
seconds before her intrusion was detected and a back-trace begun.

“Dad used to make this look a hell of a lot
easier,” she muttered, scooting forward on the edge of the upholstered dinette
chair. “Now, what exactly is it that you know and haven’t told me, Hunt?”

A knock on the door brought her up out of
the chair. Damn! She considered ignoring the unwelcome intrusion until Hunt
called her name. Trying not to panic, she disconnected from the website and
slammed the laptop shut.

Taking a deep breath for control, she
crossed the floor to the door and managed to look appropriately worried when
she opened it. “What’s going on? I was starting to wonder if you were coming
back today.”

“I almost didn’t. I shouldn’t be here now.”
He rubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw and stepped around her. “But I already
broke cover so I thought what the hell, why not go all out and let the FBI
catch me communicating with a felon?”

Carley’s hackles rose. “I’m not a felon,
Hunt. I’ve never served time at all, but then, you know that already so what’s
with the attitude?”

He checked his watch. “By my calculations
I’ve got about an hour before the deputy director gets wind of my lapse in
protocol. Then, if I’m lucky, I’ll be on the next flight to Virginia. If I’m
unlucky he’ll be the one doing the flying.”

Her anger fading, she followed him to the
sofa. “So Virginia. That’s where you live?” Why did the thought of his living
in Virginia bother her? It wasn’t like South Carolina was her home. To her,
home was wherever she could make the biggest score.

Hunt shot her a look heavily interspersed
with annoyance. “After everything I’ve just told you, that’s what you’re going
to ask me about? Where I live?” He gave a short laugh. “You want to know what’s
really funny? I convinced myself on the drive over here that I was only coming
because you deserved to know what had happened to the man responsible for your
sister’s death. Yeah. That’s the lie I kept repeating in my head.”

“So why did you really come then?” She
released her breath on a hiss. He stood just close enough for her to breathe in
his aftershave. The tantalizing scent enveloped her, masculine and spicy. Just
like the man.

“Damn if I know.”

Liar. She didn’t call him on it. It wasn’t
just a cop’s instincts that brought him here. It was a man’s. He was angry,
frustrated, looking for release, something to ease the tension building inside
him

“It must be difficult for you, being the
type of man that you are. Strong alpha men always hate to admit any weakness.”
The moment she took the stab she regretted it.

Hunt had done nothing to deserve her anger
but with the loss of her sister she was scrambling for some sense of sanity. It
was rare for her to feel so on edge. Anger pushed her back, gave her the push
she needed to break out of the fog of grief, even if only for a little while.

Hunt blinked at her for a long moment,
shifted his stance and stuck his hands into the pockets of his pants. “What do
you mean?”