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Authors: Angela Smith

One Wrong Move (22 page)

BOOK: One Wrong Move
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“So your partners—”

“No, not all of them. Moore has seen your files, but he doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know what you’ve told me about your boyfriends. There’s nothing personal like that. He offered to let me see them, but I told him it wasn’t necessary as long as I knew you weren’t crazy or didn’t have someone crazy after you.”

Rayma giggled and smacked his bare chest. “Really? Someone crazy like Darrell?”

Camden gathered her in his arms and spun her around to straddle him, then nuzzled her breasts. The moment was too good to let things go to hell. “Or someone crazy like me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

 

Darrell

 

Darrell sat in the darkness of his office and considered what Lacey had told him. Heavy cigar smoke hung in the air, relaxing him in a way nothing else could.

He had a lot to lose and very little to gain as far as people went, and he never trusted easily. To hear that Cyndi was an undercover agent disconcerted him. Not that he had anything to worry about. Cyndi didn’t know anything about him. His entire life was like one great big undercover operation, and he knew how to hide. It wasn’t the first time he’d been investigated, probably wouldn’t be the last time, but it pissed him off. Didn’t these damn cops realize they had nothing on him, never would?

Darrell had a side that scared even him. Once someone crossed him, he agonized over everything he’d ever said and everything he might have done wrong, to the point he couldn’t control his thoughts, his temper, or his need to dispose of that person properly.

Killing didn’t bother him. In fact, he enjoyed the terror in a person’s eyes just when they knew they were about to die. There was no greater power than to hold a person’s life in his hands. He never wondered if they had kids at home, a spouse, or parents to grieve for the child they lost.

Killing didn’t bother him, but he didn’t like to do it. It created a new set of problems—covering up the crime, taking time from his busy schedule to see it through, making sure the right people were bribed. He had a few employees he trusted completely for those things, but then there were those who botched the jobs, as they had with Rayma. The less people who could turn on him later, the better.

Like Shawn. He’d practically raised the boy. Never thought he’d betray him out of stinginess.

Lacey. Mike. Rayma. Camden. They were all involved with one another in some twisted way. Mike and Camden were Rayma’s ex-boyfriends. Lacey was Camden’s landlord. Rayma, a television reporter, found out about Darrell’s operation before Camden was ever in her picture.

If Cyndi was an agent, it wasn’t likely she was the only one sent to infiltrate his operation. They were like cockroaches. You saw one of the bastards and you could damn well expect a whole group of them in no time.

So there was someone out there he couldn’t trust. Mike had been with him a long time, and before that, his father had been a part of Darrell’s operation. Mike was obtuse, a little on the naïve side, and a greedy son of a bitch. But he was faithful to a fault when it came to Darrell’s dealings.

Rayma was an enigma. He wasn’t sure where she’d gotten the information she had. His people were checking, and so far all fingers pointed to Shawn.

Camden. The best damn chef Darrell had ever employed, the best damn gofer he’d used in a while, and one hell of a good actor. Could Camden be a cockroach? Darrell didn’t know any agent who could withstand his tests without fail, especially after a few months. No one was
that
good. Camden had been with him nine months and hadn’t given him any reason to suspect he was other than he said he was.

But he had to be sure. Before Dare let him any closer, Camden would be put to the ultimate test.

 

***

 

Camden

 

Camden sat in Darrell’s office and listened to him tell his story.

“I’ve been dating a woman,” Darrell said.

If they were true friends, Camden would tell him about the most extraordinary woman he’d ever met. A woman he’d spent last night with, woke up with this morning, and couldn’t wait to see when he got back home. All he could think of was Rayma.

But he couldn’t tell Darrell that.

“She’s married,” Darrell continued, his attention focused just to the left of Camden as if someone was standing there.

For a brief nightmarish moment, he thought he’d ask him to kill a woman. A married woman he’d been dating. Killing was something he refused to do, even if it meant bringing down the man who sat before him.

“Do you know a Lacey Bowman?”

It took him a moment to comprehend what Dare had said. Irritation prickled under his skin, stabbing him from the inside out. The beginnings of a headache formed into a tight fist in his skull. His throat crackled, but he gulped down a cough.

He wanted to kill Lacey, or at least shake the idiocy out of her, if possible.

“I followed her home one night.”

“I know a Lacey. She and her husband are my landlords for the time being.”

“For the time being?”

“I’m looking for a bigger place,” Camden lied.

“I’m not sure I can trust her.”

“You can’t, Dare. She’s a married woman. She belongs to somebody else.”

Lacey had been dating Darrell right under their noses? What else had she done? And why hadn’t Camden noticed? Why hadn’t Moore kept her on a tighter leash? Had Moore put her up to this without telling him?

He’d been paying more attention to Rayma than this case, and now Lacey wanted to destroy their chances of ever bringing Darrell Weberley down. What had she told him? Could she be trusted, or was it time to pull out?

Camden could bust him now on minor drug charges, but he would only serve a couple of years and be a free man. No, he wanted him to go down and live the rest of his life behind bars, where at least the public could be protected from him.

If Lacey didn’t screw it up.

But at least if he was busted for petty drugs, he’d have a record, and he’d spend time in prison. Hell, maybe he’d pissed off enough people that someone would kill him and ease Camden’s concern about his getting out.

Then there was Rayma to think about. Not that he didn’t do enough thinking about her already. It wasn’t fair to keep her in custody indefinitely, but neither could they just let her fend for herself. Darrell wanted her dead, and if she were left to her own devices, she would be.

“I don’t know what to do about her,” Dare said.

“Move on. Forget about her. Find someone else. Married women can’t be trusted.”

“What do you know about her?”

“I rarely see her. I deal mostly with her husband.”

“What does he do?”

Lacey and Moore’s phony careers had already been mapped out in case something like this ever happened, though he never would have imagined it would be because Lacey had done something so stupid. Camden knew exactly what to say. “He’s an oil and gas consultant. Makes enough money for them both. She doesn’t have to work and probably gets bored.”

“You ever sleep with her?” Darrell asked.

“Hell no. She’s not my type. Have you?”

Dare raised his brows, wiggled them, then turned away. “Time to get back to work, Camden.”

It was all he could do to continue working. When he went home that night, Lacey and Rayma were in the kitchen, Beacon sprawled on the table while the women were having toddies and laughing over some girly things.

Anger boiled over beyond him even wanting to control it. He no longer viewed Lacey as a woman. She was a Special Agent with the DEA and could take a beating just like the rest of them.

He jerked her up from her chair by the arm, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. “What the hell were you thinking?”

 

***

 

Rayma

 

Rayma jumped from the table at Camden’s unexpected outburst, and Beacon did a spin out on the table, bolting from the room.

“Camden, what the hell is going on?” Moore asked as he rushed in, his hand resting on his gun.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Camden said.

“Let her go,” Rayma begged. Camden was scaring her. He’d always been somewhat intimidating, but his anger was absolutely terrifying, especially when there seemed to be no reason.

They’d left on good terms this morning, but something had changed. He had changed. All day she’d wondered what would happen when he came home, but never had she imagined his attack on Lacey.

“What are you doing, Camden?” Moore demanded.

Camden’s fingers dug into Lacey’s arm. Eyes wide and defiant, she flung her free arm into his face, but he caught her. She slumped and gave up her struggle, but her jaw clenched and she glared.

“She’s an agent,” Camden said. “If she can’t take it, she needs to get the fuck out.”

Rayma’s stomach tensed as she froze and watched the display. Lacey was like a can of gasoline sitting in the hot sun. One wrong circumstance would create a wildfire. She was different every day, like a woman with multiple personalities. Rayma didn’t trust her, nor did she particularly like her, but she tolerated her. They’d spent a lot of time together and laughed over drinks, but it was all in the name of business. They’d never be friends in the real world, outside of this safe house.

Rayma would like to believe there was a perfectly good explanation for Camden to be so upset. Or was he a naturally violent man? Where was the charm now? He was so tense, like a rattlesnake waiting to strike.

He glanced at Rayma and let Lacey loose, though not with grace. He pushed her, she stumbled, and he clenched his fists as if he were fighting the urge to grab her again.

She pulled back and massaged her arm. “Asshole!” she shrieked.

“How could you do this?” Camden took a step closer, she moved a step back.

“Do what?” Moore asked, insistent and frustrated.

Camden jerked his head around to Moore, his jaw tense, his eyebrows furrowed. “You didn’t know?”

Moore shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, reminding Rayma of a broken doll, and revealed everyone’s confusion. “Know what?” he asked.

“She’s sleeping with Darrell.”

Rayma gasped as Lacey blinked at him with a bite of rebellion written on her face.

“You’re what!” Moore stepped toward Lacey this time. She cowered in the corner and rubbed her arm.

“I’m not exactly sleeping with him. We’ve been in contact. That’s all.”

“He thinks you’re dating,” Camden said. “He followed you home. He figured out I live here.”

Her arms dropped to her side, her shoulders drooping. “I never meant for it to happen like this.”

“I told him you and your husband were my landlords,” Camden barked. “But it’s a hard coincidence to swallow. Do you know what kind of position you put us all in?”

“It’s no different than what you’re doing! First of all you fuck around with him all day, yet you have no real reason to arrest him. He has a contract on Rayma’s head, but you’re fucking her instead of trying to protect her. You’re screwing this all up instead of trying to get us out of this mess! I figured it was about time to do something on my own, and I already have, for your information. He’s practically invited me to his party.”

“Practically?” Camden sneered. “That’s like me saying I’m practically invited, even though he hasn’t said the words yet.”

“Lacey, as of now, you’re off the case,” Moore said.

“Why is that? We’ve discussed this!”

“We discussed the
possibility
when Camden got fired, but there was no reason to follow through. And following through without our knowledge is inexcusable. You know what kind of crime you’re looking at?”

Lacey sank to the floor and tears spilled out of her eyes. Rayma didn’t feel sorry for her. She was a good actress, a master manipulator, but a stupid agent.

In Rayma’s opinion, they were all being foolish. They’d all made mistakes. She’d never been an undercover agent, but she had been an undercover reporter and did well at her job.

Or at least she thought so.

“He doesn’t know anything,” Lacey said. “I shouldn’t have been so reckless.”

“You shouldn’t have been so damned stupid,” Camden said. “Nothing will be the same now. We’re going to have to leave, get a new team together, and start all over.”

“We’re close to bringing him down,” Lacey said between sniffles.

“There’s no ‘we’ anymore,” Moore said. “You’re going to stay in this house from now on.”

“No. I won’t.”

“Then you’re under arrest. You can stand trial after internal affairs gets hold of you.”

Camden took a step forward, his eyebrows bunching. Rayma held her breath to see what he’d say. “Let’s see if she can finish what she started. Something tells me it’s going to be a lot harder than she thinks.”

“What? And get us all killed?” Moore asked.

“You know, if you would’ve left well enough alone,” Rayma finally chimed in, “I probably would have already solved this case.”

“Really?” Camden turned to her, his brows pulled together, eyes flashing. He walked toward her and put his nose close to hers, intentionally invading her space. She held her ground, annoyed at how her stomach fluttered with the slight contact between them.

Had he given any thought to that special moment between them last night, or was it that way with him every time? That’s all she’d thought about today, that and the fact she’d have to call James soon. But Camden looked at her indifferently, as if she were just another woman, another notch on his belt.

BOOK: One Wrong Move
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