Crossing Lines by Adrienne Giordano
14
The first tencalls to Michelin-starred restaurants netted Faith a big fat zero.
She dropped her phone in her lap. “I’ve been thinking about Leslie’s brother. Sully can probably get him a deal.”
Still twenty miles from the rental car place, Shane remained steadfast in keeping to the speed limit. He glanced over at her, his blue eyes darkening before going back to the road. “That requires bringing him further into this. I don’t trust him.”
“He got us Leslie’s address and ran her plate for us.”
It turned out they hadn’t needed the plate because Leslie had revealed herself to them, but he’d helped.
Shane shrugged. Damned stubborn man.
“All right,” she said. “You’ve said all along he’d sell his soul for a promotion. He’s involved in the Alfaro case and we have a potential asset inside Alfaro’s compound. You, of all people, know how long it takes to get an agent inside.”
When Shane didn’t answer, she took it as a victory. “Am I right?”
He gave her another quick glance, curling his lip while he was at it. “You know you’re right.”
“Can we further agree that someone — say Sully — who is ambitious and would sell his soul for a promotion, would find Reynaldo absolute catnip? Reynaldo can help the agency get Alfaro and that’s a career-making case. One that might get said ambitious person bumped to the executive floor. Don’t you agree?”
He smiled. Oh, yes. She had him.
“Leading questions,” he said. “Classic manipulation tactic. Nice. Executive floor or not. He knew we were coming down here. He may have sold us out and you’re willing to further involve him.”
Back to this? Unbelievable. The man had given them Leslie’s address. He didn’t have to do that. In fact, why would he risk getting caught doing it?
She shook it off. “Since I can’t move you from this line of thinking, how about this? His ambition might be his weakness. He’ll be so busy trying to get to Reynaldo, double-crossing us becomes secondary. He’ll have to cooperate with us if he wants Rey.”
If the man came up with an argument to that, she might anoint him quick-thinker-of-the-century. And he’d deserve it because she’d been pondering positives and negatives to calling Sully since they’d gotten into the car. And she couldn’t come up with nearly enough negatives.
“Okay,” he said.
Wait. What? She cocked her head. “Okay?”
“Yeah. We’re partners. You’ve made good points. I have one condition.”
Ugh. She hated conditions. “What’s that?”
“I want to be on the call. He needs to know it’s not a kumbaya moment and that I still don’t trust him.”
Fine. Whatever. She picked up her phone, tapped the burner number Sully had given her. Two rings in, he answered. “What’s up?”
His clipped tone wasn’t lost on her. She may have just interrupted something. “Can you talk?”
“Hang on.” Rustling came through the line followed by what sounded like a door clunking shut. “I’m good. Got a call in five though.”
“This won’t take long. Shane is here. I’m putting you on speaker.” She tapped the button and before either of them could speak, beat them to it. “Let’s keep it simple and get right to it. We found the address you gave us and made contact. She had what we think will be useful intel. We’re working on a plan now.”
“Virginia,” Sully said, using her codename. “I have three minutes. What do you need?”
“Fuck the code words,” Shane said. “You remember Reynaldo? The brother?”
A few seconds of silence hung heavy. “I do,” Sully said. “She wanted him to leave with her. He refused.”
“That’s changed.”
A prominent pause that made Faith’s heart go pitter-patter ensued. She waggled her eyebrows at Shane who’d glanced over at her.
“Really,”Sully said.
Statement. Not a question. Excellent.
“Yep,” Shane said. “She wants a deal for him. If we can’t find Brutus, Rey might be able to help.”
More silence and then a low whistle from Sully. “He would be helpful. Let me get into it. See what I can do.”
“And Sullivan?” Shane said. “Screw us on this and I’ll kill you myself.”
“Christ,” Sully said, his voice an absolute live wire ready to snap. “I don’t have time for this, Shane. I have shit to do. I’m out.”
Freaking Shane.
Faith punched the speaker button and lifted the phone to her ear. “Sully?”
No answer. Just in case, she checked the screen. Nothing. “Well,” she said. “That was fun. You couldn’t resist messing with him, could you?”
Freaking Shane glanced over and flashed a winning smile. “Nope. Now, let’s see what he comes up with.”
Headphones in,Faith sat at the desk in yet another hotel room they’d checked into after arriving in Chicago the night before.
Trevor had kept to the speed limit, making their remaining nine-hour drive a long one. Considering the guy had spent a total of eighteen hours in a car to pick them up, she’d focused on gratitude and used the time to research hotels Brutus might like.
Now, while Shane ran to the bar to check on things, she’d gotten busy calling the establishments on her list.
She glanced around the room. A decent, no-frills one that offered cleanliness and a mildly clunking air conditioner. Over the years, she’d grown accustomed to hotels. Still, her tiny apartment had just started to feel like home and she found herself daydreaming about going back.
Hopefully, when this was over, she’d be able to do that, but she’d learned long ago not to count on longevity. In her world, longevity was a sucker’s bet.
She tapped her pen against the veneer desk. The rhythmic tttpp-tttpp-tttpp kept her focused as the call hit the fourth ring.
“Bonaventure Hotel,” the operator said, her voice low with a bit of high-brow-snob thrown in. “May I help you?”
This particular establishment housed a Michelin-rated restaurant that was only one star, but, hey, just making the list was an honor. And since the first twenty Michelin restaurants were a bust, she might get lucky on this one. During her research, she’d gone with the theory that if Brutus enjoyed good restaurants and nice hotels, the Bonaventure would be a double-bonus.
“Good morning,” Faith said. “Antonio Rivera’s room please.”
“Please hold.”
The clickety-clack of a keyboard sounded and Faith started tapping again. Come on, come on, be there.
She cut her gaze to the bright red display of the digital clock. Eight-thirty. She’d been awakened at dawn by Shane turning on the shower and that turned into an epic fantasy about his naked and sculpted body, all those muscles rippling under a hot stream of water, and her mind went all sorts of fun places.
Places that included him on top of her. Oooh-eee.
Shane Quinn.
Total stud.
She’d actually managed to fall back asleep for a few minutes and awakened to find him gone.
No note. No text. No nothing.
Her rational mind suggested it had been common courtesy from a man who habitually put others first.
Made sense. To her rational mind. The other one? The side belonging to Liz Aiken who’d gotten way too comfortable with people leaving her? Not so much.
No one loves me enough to stick around.And, oh, that bit of nastiness looped in her mind as she lay in bed. It kept at her and at her and at her until she couldn’t take the onslaught and figured she might as well get started on tracking Brutus.
Refocusing her mind had helped. Distraction. An excellent friend.
Now, even with the full pot of coffee from room service, this calling not-so-random hotels was getting old. After working through the list of Michelin restaurants, she’d researched starred boutique hotels in Chicago, finding a solid twenty worth calling. Then she had a B list with another batch.
The operation required her to call a hotel, ask for one of Brutus’s aliases and then do it again.
And again.
And again.
When she’d gotten through all the hotels, she’d start back at the top with another alias. Soon, she’d need to take a break because even with her voice disguised, the hotel operators would more than likely question having received so many calls in one morning for nonexistent guests.
The hold music stopped. Finally.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the operator said. “We don’t have an Antonio Rivera registered.”
Another bust. Faith disconnected and yanked out her earbuds. Definitely time for a break.
The ka-chunk of the lock disengaging sounded and a burst of panic flooded her. She spun her chair, already cursing herself for not having her gun within reach.
What the hell was wrong with her?
Shane, every bit of his hot self, stepped in, quickly closing the door behind him. She blew out a breath, shook off the blood rush.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey, yourself.”
He tossed his key on the dresser and moved toward her, his gaze on her in a way that kicked her pulse into high gear for a totally different reason.
Call it loneliness or a lack of human touch, but being in his presence made her want more of whatever he offered.
But his eyes; something was off. The sparkle had flattened.
Could be exhaustion. God knew they’d had an interesting few days. Combine that with interrupted sleep and it caught up fast.
He hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans and studied her. Yes, the man definitely had something on his mind. “You okay, fella? You snuck out this morning.”
And, whoopsie. He wasn’t here two minutes and she’d already let that tiny, vulnerable piece of her loose.
“I didn’t sneak out. You were sleeping. Did you think—”
“I didn’t think anything.”
Liar.
They both knew it. She rolled her lips in and met his gaze. “Old habits. It’s true. They’re hard to break.”
“I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll leave a note.”
He’d do that for her. No hissy fit about her needing to grow up. No telling her she shouldn’t feel a certain way.
She could love this man.
Probably.
He squatted in front of her. “I’ll never run out on you. Ever. If I’m leaving and it’s for good, I’ll tell you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I expect the same from you. If you’re leaving, you tell me. No going rogue.” He held his hand out. “Deal?”
She nodded, gripped his hand and shook it. “Deal.”
“Good. Now, what have you been up to?”
Just that fast, they were back to business. A shame really, but maybe, after this mission there’d be time for . . . what?
A relationship?
A future?
Picket fences?
Keep dreaming, sister.She grabbed her notepad and held it up. “I’ve been making calls.”
Shane stood. “And?”
“I’m through three of his aliases and none of the top boutique hotels in the city have him registered.”
“I guess he didn’t become the best hired-gun by being sloppy.” Shane pointed at the coffee pot. “This still hot?”
“Probably not. I can order another. Did you eat?”
A lack of food might be the reason he seemed a bit off. He shrugged and she immediately picked up the desk phone. “You need to eat before your sugar crashes.”
Already, she’d learned his cues. Oddly enough, she liked it. Recognizing something in someone.
She ordered him a meat-lovers omelet, two scrambled eggs and ham for her and fresh coffee.
“Protein,” she said after hanging up. “Can you wait thirty minutes?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“Okay. If it’s not your sugar crashing, what’s bugging you? And don’t tell me you’re fine. You’re not. I can tell. Spill it.”
He wandered to the bed and sat on the edge, stretching his long legs in front of him. He folded his arms across that amazing chest.
“I’m tired. Thinking too much. Trying to figure out Brutus’s next move. I haven’t missed this part of the job.”
She couldn’t blame him. She’d shown up out of the blue and thrown his carefully crafted life into turmoil. “I brought disruption. To you and your friends.”
“You did.”
Yikes. Normally, she’d appreciate the bluntness. Normally. At least he didn’t deny it. Not that it made her feel any better. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “For what? Making me realize I like having someone around? That I miss companionship?”
Talk about blunt. This time, she didn’t mind so much. It, in fact, unleashed a silent squeal inside her. Before her Liz persona took over, warning her of all the pitfalls of getting attached, she forged ahead. “I get it,” Faith said. “But reality is a bitch. Even if we deal with Brutus, I can’t stay in Chicago.”
“We don’t know that. We haven’t confirmed my cover is blown. We have to figure out if Alfaro found you or all of us.”
“If it’s just me, I’m leaving. I won’t risk you. Or Dusty or Trevor. You’ve built lives, established yourselves. Once we find Brutus, I’ll go.”
He met her gaze and held it long enough for her to start doubting everything she’d just said.
“I guess,” he said, “what I want doesn’t matter.”
Of course it mattered. But if it meant further risks for him, she wouldn’t stay. And she didn’t see a way around that.
“What we want doesn’t play into it. You know that. Believe me, after the last two days, I’d like nothing more than to stay. I have . . . comfort . . . with you. And I’ve never had that. My grandmother was the closest thing, but even then, I was always scared. Always on edge. I knew she wouldn’t leave me, but her health wasn’t good and I understood, down deep, she wouldn’t live long.”
“God, that had to suck. Constantly waiting for her to die.”
“It did. But it also taught me coping skills. Life doesn’t play fair. We have to move on.”
“Walking away is that simple for you?”
She shook her head. “Not on your life, but you and I? We know this game. We knew fieldwork came with sacrifices.”
“But we’re not in the field anymore.”
Foolish, foolish man.“I want it too.”
“What?”
“This. Talking. Having someone who understands me.”
“So stay. Why leave? We’re in this too deep now. Brutus is here. We have to find him and see what he knows. Then we’ll eliminate him. Let’s focus on that. When it’s done, we’ll figure out next steps. Can we do that?”
Shane Quinn.
He might be both their downfalls. “I’ll stay until we find him. After that, we’ll see what happens.”
After finishing breakfast,Shane stood beside Liz at the desk reading over her list of hotels. She’d handwritten the names alongside the addresses, the letters neat and compact. Compared to his chicken scratch, her penmanship probably earned high marks.
He pointed to the ones with X’s, some with multiples, beside them. “These were a bust?”
“So far. Each X is how many times I’ve called asking for a different alias. I think you should try those hotels for the rest of the names. Eventually, even with disguising my voice, they’ll get suspicious.”
He eyed the remaining names. “That’s a lot of calls. Could take days if we have to contact each hotel with each name.”
“Yep.”
He perused the names and tapped one with two X’s beside it. The Elm. “This one is a few blocks from my place.”
Damn. What a thought that was. Did this asshole even know how close he was to not only Faith, but Shane?
If he did, Shane had to believe they’d both have had a couple of pops to the head by now.
Faith smacked the space bar on her laptop and keyed in her password. A map appeared with large, highlighted X’s. She must have been using note-taking software that let her alter PDFs.
She pointed at the map. “After the restaurants were a bust, I went with the theory that if he went into our coffee shop, he might be staying in the area. The highlighted X’s are the hotels I called so far.”
“What you have marked in our neighborhood, are those all of them on the list?”
“No. Plotting them was taking too long. I thought when you got back you could help me.”
“All right.” He wagged a finger at the laptop. “How do I use this software?”
She gave him a two-minute tutorial and left him seated at the desk while she continued her calls from the chair by the window.
“Have you checked in with Henry?” he asked.
Why he was worried about her boss, the professor, he had no clue, but he liked the guy and didn’t want him left in the lurch.
“I did. I told him I’d be back tomorrow.”
Say what now? How the hell did she think she’d be back at work tomorrow? He spun the desk chair to face her and she immediately threw her hand up. “I know. Don’t lecture me.”
“If you know, then why?”
“Because he gave me a job. And a chance. I don’t want to disappoint him. And, hello? I have rent to pay.”
“I can help you with that. I have an emergency fund. This qualifies.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Faith—”
She drilled him with a look that should have blasted him through the wall. “No,” she said. “You’ve done enough. Besides the risks you’ve taken, you’re already out a car — a really nice one — and you paid for this hotel. That’s it.”
Okay. He could see her point on this, but it was only money and not worth exposing herself any more than they already had.
“You can’t go there. You’d put anyone in the area in danger.”
“I know that,” she said, her voice carrying some heat. “I have a plan, Shane. The summer session hasn’t started yet and Henry is leaving town for a week. He left me some folders. I can pick them up and work remotely.”
He sat staring at her, letting her know that this was insanity. If she got fired for not showing up, they’d get her another fucking job.
“Don’t,” she said.
“What?”
“You’re about to launch into telling me there are other jobs. Well, guess what. I like this job. I’ll probably have to leave it anyway, so I’m going to keep it as long as I can.”
“But—”
“No, Shane.” She sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees and locking her gaze on his. “The lives we have aren’t normal. Stress is the only constant. Our brains are hard-wired for extreme situations. The job with Henry is the reverse. It’s interesting and quiet and makes me feel . . .” She broke eye contact, stared out the window where sunshine reflected off the building across the street. “Peaceful. It’s like being back in my grandmother’s living room watching Wheel of Fortune. I like that feeling. I want that feeling. Brutus or no Brutus, I want control back.”
“After we deal with him, you’ll have it. If we do this right, you can start over.”
She smiled at him. The you-silly-man smile. “Maybe. I can’t do what you’re doing. My whole life has been about surviving my circumstances. Somehow, each time I think I’m free — whoopsie — everything blows up. I’m done waiting for the future. I’m already tired of running. After this, I’m done. I want a life.”
As much as he wanted to rail on her, argue his point that they could deal with Brutus and she could have that future, he kept his trap shut.
He’d been living undercover for two years and every day it sucked. Sure, he reminded himself to be grateful his head was still attached to his body, but she was right. What they were doing?
Not normal.
He let out a breath. Damn the woman. “What’s your plan?”
“It’s simple. I’m going to campus this afternoon to pick up the folders. As I said, the summer session hasn’t started yet. The place will be deserted.”
“You’re going to walk to the university alone? I hate your plan.”
“It may sound dumb, but it got me out of Venezuela alive. I know how to take care of myself.”
“Why chance going it alone? Let me help you.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if something happens to you, I’ll go crazy.”
“And if something happens to you, I’ll go crazy.”
As arguments went, it wasn’t brilliant, but it sure as hell got the point across. She fired him enough nasty looks to bore a few holes in him, but . . . too bad.
“Can I offer an expanded plan?” he asked.
“Do I have a choice?”
He snorted. “Probably not.”
When he wanted to be,Shane could be a pain in the ass.
What Faith had going here was a classic stalemate. An epic battle of wills.
One thing she’d learned in her time with the agency was that banging horns with stubborn men only wasted time when she could finesse her way around the issue.
“Fine,” she said. “Tell me your idea.”
“I’ll come with you. I’ve lived here longer and know the streets.”
He paused, obviously waiting for her to admit it. Fine. She’d give him that. “I agree you know the city better.”
“Excellent. We’ll move fast, pretending we’re joggers. I’ll park a few blocks from campus. Then we’ll run the rest. I’ll wait outside while you slip into the building. If anyone stops you, show them your ID, tell them you were out for a run and needed to pick up work Henry left. Then you get out of there and we hightail it to another hotel. That keeps us on the move until we find Brutus.”
As plans went, she’d heard worse. Entering the building wouldn’t be an issue. She had a keycard and her staff ID.
When it came to Brutus, she knew enough to understand he worked neat and quick. He opted to walk up behind his target, put a bullet in their head and calmly hustle off rather than set up some elaborate assassination attempt that might cause chaos.
Neat.
Quick.
Given that fact, if Shane went with her and Brutus found them, he’d have both of them to deal with. Two against one. And their combined skills gave them a definite edge in the fight.
“We can do this,” he said, clearly feeling the need to convince her. “It makes everyone happy. You get the folders and keep your job and we all stay alive.”
Before she could respond, he held his hands out. “Deal?”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“What’s your point?”
She laughed. An honest-to-goodness laugh that relieved all sorts of pent-up tension. “You really are a pain in the ass, but you make me laugh. Deal.”
“Good. And ditto.”
He spun back to her laptop. “Before you distracted me with your insane plan to get yourself killed, I was looking at a location you haven’t gotten to yet.”
She rose from her chair and wandered back to the desk. “Which one?”
“Le Meilleur.”
She repeated the name to herself, calling on the minimal French she’d absorbed over the years.
“Le Meilleur,” she said. “It’s French for ‘the best.’”
“Well, that sure as shit fits his profile.”
“Where is it?”
He pointed at the map. “A couple miles from Darla’s coffee shop.”
“If he was canvassing the area, it’s possible he just wandered by the Brew and stopped in.”
“Of all the gin joints — ” Shane muttered the famous line from Casablanca.
“He comes into ours.”
“And thank God he did or we wouldn’t know he was here.”
True.
Faith tapped her password into her phone, Googled the number for Le Meilleur.
Two rings in, an operator answered.
“Hello,” Faith said, “Antonio Rivera’s room please.”
The standard round of keyboard tippity-tapping sounded from the other end. “I’m sorry. We don’t have anyone by that name, registered.”
That would have been way too easy. “Hmmm,” she said. “How about Matthew Ortega? My coworkers are traveling together and I’m not sure which name their assistants booked the rooms under.”
“Let me check.” More tippety-tapping ensued. “Please hold.”
Please hold? What did that mean? Could they have actually found him? She gripped Shane’s arm, squeezing hard. God, God, God. Please.
“What—”
She put her finger to her lips and then a phone on the other end of the line rang. Once, twice, three times.
“Fourth ring,” she whispered and why she whispered she hadn’t a clue, but whatever.
“Hang up,” Shane whispered back.
She disconnected.
“I think we found him,” she said.
“You think? Could be another Matthew Ortega.”
“Thanks, Debbie Downer.”
“Hey. Just saying. We should confirm. And the only way is to put eyes on him. We can do that this afternoon after you get your files. If it’s him, we show up at the hotel around six — assuming he sticks to his pattern of dinner at 6:30 — and follow him.”