Rory: Finding His Match (Big 3 Security Book 4) Page 6

  Looking around here at Rory's home she felt cheated of this. A home. A dog. Maybe a couple of babies. She was still young enough to have them, though at 37, she was nearing the end of her career fighting drug cartels, suppliers, syndicates. DEA Special Agents couldn’t be older than 37, so it was earn this promotion for the job she wanted or be transferred to some other location and feel like a newbie again and be located who knew where. And time for bearing children was ticking away.

  "Red?"

  Glancing up at Rory, he held two plates with the most delicious looking sandwiches on them. He nodded to the table and she tried to smile, but her brain was already working on possible scenarios.

  Sitting at the table, in front of one of the sandwiches, Rory walked to the refrigerator and pulled two more beers from the bottom shelf. Twisting the tops on each of them, he tossed the caps in the garbage, then came and sat at a right angle to her. Handing her a bottle he nodded, but he didn't smile, and her stomach tightened. He was mad.

  "Smells good, Ace. I didn't know you cooked."

  "I love cooking. I haven't had the time to cook lately, and this is nothing compared to some of the meals I've learned to make, but it's pretty fucking good."

  She picked up one half of the sandwich and bit into it. She hadn't had breakfast and the morning had been a bit of a blur, but her stomach appreciated her eating now and it was fantastic.

  "Omigod." She tried talking with her mouth full of sandwich and choose to wait until she finished so she didn't make a pig of herself.

  Swallowing and taking a swig of beer, she continued, "Ace, this is wonderful."

  "Thanks." He bit into his sandwich and looked out the sliding doors on to the backyard.

  Taking his lead, she quietly ate her sandwich trying to puzzle out what she had that was getting her near enough to scare this operation out in the open.

  "Do you want to talk about it?"

  She looked into his eyes and realized he was allowing her to piece things together out loud.

  "I do." She finished half of her sandwich, then took another drink of beer.

  "Twitch has been informing for me for about five years. At first it was petty stuff. Then it became bigger stuff. His reasons were his own, but what I deduced was that his nephew got hooked pretty bad on drugs and OD'd. It made him realize what he'd been doing, and he started turning on the people who supplied him. We brought down a couple of low-level pushers. A few street thugs and dealers and an enforcer for one of the suppliers. Then, something changed, I don't know what. Twitch started telling me about "The Big Guy". He'd disappear for a while and then come back with information. I asked him once if he was going in deeper to get me information and he only said, "Worth it.""

  Wiping her fingers on the white paper napkin alongside her plate, she changed her position on her chair, folding her left leg under her right and twisting slightly to face him.

  "Then, last week he told me about the deal going down last night. I think what you saw was simply a low-level street dealer who'd just gotten a large load to distribute. I do think it's happening in one of those apartments next to the convenience store where you had parked. It's too much of a coincidence that I'd be told to go to the apartment complex to see the big drop and then that Twitch would be found dead outside of the Longstone Apartment building, only for "The Big Guy" or whoever to see us leave this morning. So, I'm thinking there's a vantage point in one of those upper apartments that they use, probably in Longstone given its location. They must be able to see a point of interest or have some reason that they've chosen that place. And, it seems unlikely that a high-level trafficker would hole up in a shitty apartment building unless it is very profitable. So, it appears that's the place I've been looking for."

  Rory twisted to face her head on and leaned forward on the table. "Why here? What is it about Lynyrd Station? They could blend in easier in a larger city."

  "Right, but what do you have here that is more attractive than blending in?"

  "Off the top of my head, I'm thinking a supply system. After Limitless was taken down by the cops and Victor Santarino was killed, Mangus went into hiding, but continued the family’s illegal activities. Mangus was moving and smuggling some things, including arms and jewels, underground through tunnels near his hideout at the bottom of Ryker Mountain. Mangus’ minions dug tunnels through the mountain so they could move without being seen. There was always a suspicion that the Santarinos were moving drugs as well as arms and jewels.”

  "Okay, who has access to those tunnels now?"

  "There was a huge shootout that brought down Mangus and his gang. It’s a result of the shootout mostly that the family and former minions, whose pictures I showed you, are dead or in prison. Dodge Sager, who’s a friend of Ford’s and mine, took Mangus down. I'll have to check, but not till all the law enforcement agencies are finished with their investigations, since the property on Ryker Mountain is owned by the Santarinos or one of their companies, and the family must still have access to it. But, any of them that were in the United States are either dead or in prison."

  Leaning back, she pushed her hands through her hair and into a ponytail at her crown. Rory's eyes floated to her arms, then down to her chest, then back up to her eyes. It made her feel sexy. Alive. Wanted. Gawd she'd missed feeling like that. She'd folded herself up into her career these past few years and made work her life. Had she been stupid all these years? When she looked at how Rory had made a home and tried living a normal life, she realized how she'd fallen so short at making any kind of life for herself.

  "We should check with Immigration and Homeland Security to see if they have travel records of any members of the Santarino family. You should check with DEA since we know that some of their activity internationally was drug trafficking."

  He pulled his phone from his pants pocket and tapped a couple of times.

  "Captain, can we have someone check with Immigration and Homeland Security to see if the Santarinos or anyone associated with them traveled to the US in the past year?"

  15

  Beautiful. Smart. Sexy. Badass. All rolled up in a creamy-skinned, redhead who made his heart race. Why did life have to keep putting them in proximity with each other only to pull them apart? His life was here. This was his home. His parents were here. Debra was buried here. His siblings were here. Most of all, he loved it here. He had a gorgeous home, friends, a fantastic job. He had it all. Except her.

  Picking up their empty dishes he loaded them in the dishwasher, wiped down the counter, walked to the laundry room and tossed the dishrag in the washer, then came back to the kitchen. Red had gotten up and walked to the living room. Her silhouette shown in the large floor to ceiling windows looking out on to the backyard, the light created shadows. The shadow of her form wholly appealing. Inhaling deeply, he walked into the living room as his phone rang.

  "Richards." He snapped, surprised at his own terseness.

  "None of the Santarinos are here in the States. The daughter, Francesca is out of prison and back in Italy. Rumor has it she's learning the ropes from grandpa, but that's none of our business now; Italian authorities need to deal with their own shit."

  "Thanks, Captain. Who is controlling Mangus’ hideout on Ryker Mountain and any other buildings and land here in the States that the Santarinos or their companies own? The building Limitless is in, the home on the mountain Victor used, and especially all those tunnels they dug "

  He could hear his Captain clicking on his keyboard, while his own eyes were glued to Red. She turned to stare at him, just as eager for information as he was.

  "The Limitless International building and land is for sale, sitting empty now and listed with a realtor in town, Van Steel Realty. It's been empty since authorities shut the place down."

  He sat in his recliner, elbows on his knees. "Does anyone go in periodically and check to make sure no one is using the place for illegal operations?"

  He heard his Captain take a deep breath. "We don't have authority.
We could see if the realtor minds letting us in, but she doesn't have to."

  Red nodded her head and he agreed with her. "I think it's worth a shot, Captain. Maybe that's something Tucker and I could do. I know Margery Van Steel from my shooting pool days. Maybe she'd do me a solid."

  "I don't see that that could do any harm. But, try not to get in trouble. I'll send Officer Delhurst to back you up in case there's trouble. Let me know when you've made contact and keep me posted on what you find. Also, evidence has been uploaded, so you two need to look it over and write up a report."

  The line went dead before he could say anything more. They were short staffed at the department and having him and Red off the beat for a while sure didn't help. Maybe they'd get lucky and find something at Limitless.

  "Evidence is uploaded, Red. I'll log you in on to my computer while I call Maggie and see if we can get her to let us in Limitless."

  "What if she doesn't let us in?"

  He stood, suddenly weary beyond reason. "A rock through a window might be enough to let us go and check things out."

  Her smile was brilliant. "I love the way you think, Ace. I had you pegged for strait-laced and buttoned-up. Glad to see I was wrong."

  "The Santarinos brought a lot of shit to this town and we thought we were finished with them. So doing something outside the lines a bit isn't the worst thing to make sure they truly are shut down for business. Ford has it made with his company. They color outside the lines quite a bit. But they get shit done. But, of course, they’re not cops like we are."

  "You've mentioned this company before; I'm intrigued beyond reason."

  Shaking his head he silently chastised himself. "I can't really discuss it, Red. If he wants to share it, that's his business.”

  "Fair enough." She shrugged her slender shoulders and walked toward his office. Her scent wafted to him as she passed and goosebumps formed on his arms. He needed to put some distance between them and soon.

  He let out a long breath and followed Red into the office. She stood staring at his computer, which was running a slide show of pictures, mostly of Debra and him in their better times. Some of him in the service. Some of his siblings Rochelle, Rourke and Rowan at Christmas. A picture of Debra laughing at him at his mom and dad's anniversary party slid onto the screen and Red's head cocked to the side.

  "She looks happy."

  "I suppose she was then." He moved to shake his mouse and stop the pictures. She reached out and took his hand before he could do that.

  "Were you happy?"

  She turned then so they were facing each other, and he saw seriousness in her eyes. He cleared his throat.

  "I was at first."

  "But not later?"

  "No." His voice was quiet, as if saying it out loud made him a bad person.

  Her hand cupped his cheek.

  "Why?" Now her voice was quiet.

  "Red, this is a heavy conversation..."

  "Why?"

  Inhaling deeply, he let it out slowly and tried to relax.

  "At first she was a lot like you. Confident. Strong. Independent. Then she grew needy. She hated my job because it often kept me out late or had me up early. She liked consistency; I couldn't offer that. She grew more and more depressed. I grew more and more irritated, frustrated and pulled in multiple directions. On the day she was killed, we'd had a fight. Afterward, she still was very upset; she’d packed a bag for a few days and was going to stay with her parents for a while. We were never able to work it out because she was killed on her way to their place."

  Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him to her body as she whispered. "Oh, Ace. I'm so sorry. That's a lot of guilt to hold on to."

  Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her close and enjoyed the way her body curved into his. When he held her like this, it felt like they were made for each other. Just like this. Working together. Making love. Talking. Understanding.

  As if she read his thoughts, she said, "Not everyone understands people like us."

  16

  He hugged her tightly, his arms strong and solid around her and she never felt more secure. When his head dipped down to rest against hers, so they were temple to temple, the roughness of his whiskers against her cheek sent shivers the length of her body. The gruffness in his voice when he whispered in her ear, "Not many do, but I know you do." Well, that sent a riot of emotions running through her body and mind.

  She closed her eyes against the moisture forming in them. The harsh reality was that they once again lived in different places and had careers to tend to. Careers that they'd both worked their entire lives to earn and they were more than a hundred miles apart on the map.

  He kissed her temple then and bent over his computer, shaking the mouse to stop the photographs from scrolling past, and quickly logged on to the police database so she could look at evidence. He then sat in a chair across the room, his relaxed posture belying his emotions because she'd felt the slight tremors that ran through his body just now. She felt them, too.

  Out of the corner of her eye she watched him pull his cell phone from his pocket, and scroll through what she assumed were phone numbers, then tapped on one and sat back in the chair, crossing his left ankle over his right knee.

  "Maggie, it's Rory, how are you?"

  He smiled at what this Maggie said in his ear and she pushed down that little green monster that threatened to rise up.

  "No, not interested in selling, I just got things the way I like them, think I'll enjoy it for a while."

  His chuckle was deep in his chest and genuine, she must be a friend, but hopefully not a former lover.

  "No, I understand you're selling the Limitless International building and properties. I wondered if it would be possible to go in and take a look around?"

  Scrolling quickly past the pictures of Twitch's carved up face and hunk of tongue lying alongside his body, she'd leave that for the forensic lab, she was mostly interested in anything that led them to one of the apartments.

  "How much?" He whistled. "That's rather steep for a tainted building and land."

  Dropping his crossed leg, he leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees, his eyes cast down to the hardwood floor between his feet.

  "Okay, what do you need. I can get the pre-approval this afternoon."

  Appearing at the opposite side of the desk, he leaned forward and grabbed a pen laying alongside the computer she worked on. Pulling a post-it note from a wire holder on the desktop, he wrote a string of numbers, then an email address.

  "Okay, I'll be in touch in a bit. Take care."

  Ending his call, he began dialing another number and she continued to read the evidence with halfhearted interest.

  "Captain, I need to get a bank pre-approval for the purchase of the Limitless real estate before we can get in. Put it in Alice Thomas' name."

  Her eyes looked across the desktop where his impressive package or at least the zipper of his Khakis was facing her. Frustrated with herself for the thoughts she was thinking and maybe more importantly, the one's she wasn't, she reminded herself she was a grown-ass woman and not a teenager. But, he did have a nice package. One of the best.

  "Four million dollars."

  She could hear the Captain's voice on the other end of the phone, and he sounded rather stressed. I suppose putting the department on the line for four million dollars was a bit of a stressor, but for some reason, it made her smile.

  "I'll wait to hear from you."

  He tapped his phone then set it on the desk. "Do you have anything of interest yet?"

  Oops, she'd better start paying attention. "Not yet."

  Pulling her head together, she dove into the evidence file and began reading the police report, the evidence database, the forensic report, and the Medical Examiner’s report. Once she'd finished with that police report, she came across the police reports from last night and looked those over checking the witness statements for similarities. There were four in total, from d
ifferent residents of the apartment complex. They read the same, shots fired, yelling, drug deals going down in the common area between the buildings, needles, lighters, light bulbs found lying around all the time. The complaints went on and on.

  Rory left the room and came back in a few minutes later, set a laptop on the desk, then pulled the chair up to the other side. Opening the top, he began typing, then finally said to her, "I'm in the evidence database. What have you found so far?"

  "How many computers do you have here?"

  His eyes landed on hers, a slight amount of humor in them, "Why does it matter?"

  Shaking her head, she honestly didn't know why. "This house is much more expensive than most cops can afford. You have fantastic furniture. Not one but two computers, one a laptop, state of the art security. What gives, Ace?"

  Inhaling deeply, he leaned forward slightly, his voice lowered and took on a gruffness usually only heard when he made love to her.

  "You think I'm dirty, Red?"

  "No, you’ve always been too honest for that. But, how can you make it like this?"