Tap Dance (30 page)

But all the two agents seem to do was berate and point fingers at the Grantham P.D.

"Let me know when the print comes back," Ram advised before going back to his office.  The boys had a point about the agents but Ram was getting just as much heat from his higher ups as he was from the Feds.

Hopefully the print would help solve this case and the 'secret agent twins' could go back to where they came from.

*.*.*.*.*

"Marianne?"

"Hey, Steve," I answered.  "You never showed the other night.  Are you okay?"

"I need the CDs.  I need them now, Marianne," he begged.

I glanced at the clock on my computer.

"Steve, the bank is already closed.  I can't get them until tomorrow morning."

"Fuck, Marianne.  I need them tonight! "

"There's nothing I can do, honey.  The bank is closed."

There was silence but I could hear background noises so I knew we weren't disconnected.

"I'm a dead man if I can't get the CDs tonight, Marianne.  Do you fucking know what I mean?"  Steve was shouting into the phone.

"Let me see if there's something I can do and I'll call you back.  What's your number?"

"No, Marianne.  I'll call you in thirty minutes.  Please get them, Sideshow.  I'm a dead man without them."  Steve said in a soft voice.  I was confused by the emotional rollercoaster he was on.  Steve used to be pretty even tempered, but as I discovered the night he came to my apartment, the here - and - now Steve wasn't the man I married.

I called Ram on his personal cell.

"Honey?  Got a minute?"

"Yes,
Pyari
," he said and I heard a door close.

"I just got a call from Steve…"

"The ex-husband?" 

Huh?  'The' versus 'Your'.  Interesting word choice.

I heard Ram sigh as I gave him the highlights of Steve's call.

"How and when are you going to be in touch with him again?"

"He said he would call me back in thirty minutes," I explained.

"I'm going to have to call Jamison and see if he'll let us in so you can access your safe deposit box.  Then we need to have a talk with your Steve."

"He's not my Steve.  But, I'll see what I can do to meet with him and get him to talk to you."

"I'll call you back, Marianne, after I get in touch with Jamison."

"Okay, Ram," I said softly.  I had fucked up.  Badly.  It never occurred to me that my break in could have been for the CDs, mainly because the break in was done before I got the mail. 

Wait a second. 

Ram picked up the mail for me the day after the break in.  The Fed Ex envelope was in the bag for a while before I even deigned to open it.

Was my aunt killed because of those stupid CDs? 

Because of the stupid CDs that Steve asked me to hold for him?

I could feel the tremors start just about the same time my breathing accelerated.

*.*.*.*.*

In the best of circumstances, Ram avoided Layton Jamison, President of Grantham Saving and Loan, like the plague.  He had been warned of Jamison's connection to the old Police Chief as well as a Judge who had both been convicted and were currently serving time on a full portfolio of corruption charges.

Jamison and Stuart McBride, one of the only attorneys in town, were implicated but from what he read of the various reports, there wasn't enough intel on either one of them to make a case against them.

Ram had been the one that had to tell Jamison of his daughter's murder and her side job as a topless dancer at Fuego's which he unequivocally denied saying he was in Fuego's 'all the time' and had never seen his daughter there.

Which was a sad state of affairs when you thought about it.

Mrs. Jamison was, for all intent and purposes, nonexistent.  Ram had met her when he had advised  them of Renee's death, but the alcohol fumes and her glazed, unfocused eyes told him that she had checked out of real life a long time ago.

With Layton Jamison as a husband, Ram could understand why.

Ram called Agent Grant with an update before calling Jamison.  So by the time Ram got him on the phone, Ram could use the FBI card to ensure the bank president's full cooperation.  Tim and Jeff said Jamison liked to believe he was a real mover and a shaker in their small town and telling him he would be instrumental in helping to solve a major Federal case had the older man practically salivating to open up the vault outside of banking hours.

Ram shook his head when he got off the phone.

Yeah, it's good they were in a small town, because he knew for a fact that a lot of the large banks had their vault on a timer and nothing or no one could access the vault outside of the scheduled hours.

Ram and Agent Grant were waiting outside the bank when Ram's cellphone rang.

"Marianne?"

"Yeah, honey.  Steve wants me to get the CDs but doesn't want to meet with anyone else.  Specifically no law enforcement.  He sounds seriously stressed, Ram."

"So he wants you to come down to the bank, get the CDs and take them to him?"

Ram didn't like that at all.

"Basically.  The only part that is different is he will pick them up from me at my place," Marianne said on a sigh.

Ram
really
didn't like that idea.

"And if he doesn't get the CDs?"  Ram hated to ask the question knowing , by doing so, he was putting her, his girl, in the middle of it all.

"He said he's a dead man."

Chapter Thirty Four

"Okay, Marianne, Jamison is on his way.  How's this gonna work on the ex-husband's plan going forward?"  Ram asked her moving down the block from where Agent Grant stood, rocking up and back on his feet. 

An action that was only broken by the snapping of those damn cuffs.

"Steve says that he's going to call me every fifteen minutes until I get back.  For updates on what is going on.  But, Ram, he says he's going to be watching but he didn't tell me who or where he'd be watching.  My apartment?  The bank?"

"
Pyari
, don't over think this, okay?" 

"Ram?"

He heard the plea in her voice. 

She didn't want to be a part of this, was upset her past came up and became a part of their lives.  She didn't want anyone hurt but had no control over any of this.  He wasn't sure the exact part she was worried about, although, knowing his girl, it was probably all three.  All he knew, was that he couldn't wait for this shit to be done.

"
Pyari
, listen to me.  I want you to call me after every single one of his calls, okay?  Do you understand?"

"Yes, honey," she breathed.  There was relief on that breath.  She wouldn't have to go this alone.

"You know that large purse that you like to use when you come to me?"

"The tote?  The green bag?"

"Yes."

"I want you to put your laptop in the green tote and bring it with you, okay?"

"Why, Ram?"

"I'll tell you later.  Please just bring the laptop but carry the bag it's in like a normal purse, okay?"

"He's calling, Ram," she said and disconnected.

Ram made his way back to Agent Grant who was still rocking on his heels but with a self-satisfied look on his face.

"Almost over, Amigo," the Federal agent said.  "Three years, three long fucking years and this may finally be it for me."

"I thought Steve Quinlan only worked for the Milosevics for two years?" Ram asked.

"Steve Quinlan?  Shit.  He's just a little piece of crap who was stupid enough to sign on with a family of turds.  He's a tool.  But the CDs?  Brilliant."

"How do you plan to get the CDs if they're going to kill him if he doesn't deliver?"

The agent looked at Ram for a long time before his face finally gave his  game away.

"You didn't have any intention of working with him, did you?  You just wanted the information." Ram couldn't believe that anyone would be, could be, that callous.

"Told you, Patel.  He's a tool.  And your girlfriend's a hindrance.  I will be victorious and bring the scum-sucking family down."

Ram just looked at him.

"What?" Grant said.  "Were you thinking that justice would prevail?  That good would win out?  Fuck."

Grant popped his cuffs and looked up and down the deserted street.

"You piss poor bastards from other countries are bringing this shit onto American streets, my friend.  You need to wake up and…"

Grant's voice cut off because Grant was on the ground.

Grant was on the ground because he seemed to have walked into a fist.

The fist belonging to the Police Chief of Grantham, Colorado.

And the Police Chief's fist had laid that sorry fucking, federal agent's ass out.

*.*.*.*.*

"Pierson, Adler.   Need some help here," Ram called.  All of his boys were in downtown Grantham  in various locations and his heart was glad for it.  He hadn't had to call any of them.  They had just shown up, maybe not in full regulation gear.  But they were here.

It said a lot.

It meant even more.

"Yes, Chief?"  Paul asked.

"Can we, ah, remove the recumbent Agent Grant so he doesn't, ah, infect the scene?"

Paul's face split into a huge grin seeing the look on his boss' face.

"Done deal, Chief."

Ram probably should have stopped Adler to remind him dragging a Federal Agent may not be the best way to transport him, especially across a sidewalk and a road.

But on the other hand…

"I'm on my way, Ram.  Steve says he knows that Jamison has left his house and got upset I wasn't on the road myself.  How does he know this shit, Ram?" Marianne's voice called from the cellphone he forgot was still on and transmitting.

"Dunno,
Pyari
.  But it's all good.  Go ahead and come down.  We've got the streets cordoned off, but my guys know to look for you, okay?"

"Yeah, honey," she said softly.

They were both quiet but the line was still open.

"See you when you get here?"

"Yeah, honey," she repeated.

Ram smiled as he disconnected.  Until he saw Jamison moving swiftly up the block, waving to the officers who were stationed at every block around the downtown area.

Rather than watch the trundling bank president greet his men like a conquering hero,

accepting his due from his troops, Ram called Marianne back.

"Jamison is just getting here.  Where are you?"

"Two streets over, honey.  Should I drive or get out and hoof it?  Seems to be a lot of cars in front of me."

"Hold on,
Pyari
," Ram said and moved the phone from his mouth.  "Pierson?"

"Yeah, Chief?"

"MG can't get through due to traffic."

"No worries, Chief."

"
Pyari
, Ted is going to get you here, okay?"

"Okay, Ram," she said softly.

Hell of a time to sport wood, Patel, he told himself. 

But it was her voice. 

Shit. 

It was her, fucking, full stop.

"Jeff," Ram yelled.  He heard the slap of feet on concrete. 

"Laptops?"

"Here, Chief," Jeff said handing over four laptops still in their cases.

There was silence as Ram captured the bags before hearing Jeff's, "Thank God.  They're here, Chief."

Ram raised his eyes and saw his girl, his beautiful, brave girl running full on next to Ted. Ram handed over the cases to whoever was behind him.

And he found himself moving forward.

Because running toward him for a moment, just a split second, he forgot why they were there.  Just watching the woman he could've only dreamed of having was running full tilt towards him. 

And he realized. 

In full blooming color, he got it. 

He was running toward his future.

He caught her and in full view of his crew he captured her mouth in a sweet kiss before releasing her and turning them both towards the chubby bank president.

"No need to fondle people in the midst of a crisis, Patel," the sanctimonious Layton advised.

"Deniece?" Ram yelled. 

Deniece was one of the new hires but was very savvy in the ways of men as evidenced by her current responsibility in overseeing the downtown jails. 

She was a no nonsense Amazonian who's skin color suggested a mixed heritage but accent didn't place her in any particular place.  She was the kind of woman that Ram had learned appealed to Jamison and he'd made sure to have her on hand for distraction.