Chapter 32
Sign of the Times
Caleb
THE DEA CONFISCATED The Little Mermaid on a drug-related charge.
Although I would never have named my speedboat after a Disney movie, the beat-up Grady White has a cabin large enough for me to sleep and, if needed, will make for a fast getaway.
After taking her out for a spin, I dock her in the boat slip I rent by the week at the marina.
Before I head out, I decide to check on the flash drive I still have. The one I pretended to give to a fellow agent but didn’t. Depending on whether I can get in Cruz’s office or not, I might need it.
After slicing open the compartment I sewed it into, I frantically dump the contents of the entire bag out.
Fuck!
It isn’t in there, but there’s a hole big enough that could have fit through. Ben. Ben must have taken it when I went home at Thanksgiving.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I can’t contact him right now to get it back, not when I’m undercover. I can’t chance it. I glance at my watch. Shit, I have to start my run.
Moving fast, my feet pound on the sidewalk as I head toward the former naval training center.
It’s been two weeks since I went deep under cover. Even though I’m no closer to bringing Cruz down, I feel like everything has changed.
Every day I’m learning more and more about Gemma and her relationship with Cruz. It’s a slow process. Her walls aren’t easy to break down. But she’s lonely and looking for someone to talk to, and sometimes, I’m it.
I should feel guilty, but I don’t.
I honestly want to help her. However, I have to know more about her to do so. For all the things she tells me, she won’t tell me why she’s with him until I tell her why I’m here. And I can’t do that.
So, that leaves us at yet another impasse.
We haven’t kissed again, or fucked again, but we both want to. It’s in the air all around us every second of every day we spend together.
Yet, I haven’t gone to her room since that night and she hasn’t beckoned me in. We both know it’s dangerous.
Rounding the corner of the NTC jogging path, I hurry my pace. Rice is right where he’s supposed to be about ten feet ahead, stretching out his calves on a bench. As I approach him, I slow down, coming to stop and placing my hands behind my head to take in air.
To anyone watching, I’m a runner in need of a breather. Nonchalantly, I walk to the back of the bench and use it to help me stretch out my quad. “How’s it going?”
Lunging forward and elongating his calf, Rice responds, “Things are pretty dull. We moved out of the security office. Last week we got the okay to tail Cruz. He’s keeping a low profile though. For the past seven days he’s only gone to his office, his compound, and Emerald Plaza.”
I give him a nod. “Gemma told me he thinks someone is looking to take him out.”
“Who?”
“He doesn’t know and neither do I. We ran into some trouble in Mexico, but I don’t think it was aimed at him specifically.”
Rice switches legs. “I left the blueprints to his house taped beneath the next bench.”
“You got them?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t easy, but we did.”
“That’s fucking great news.”
“Thought you’d like that. Should make things easier. Anything else I should know?”
Yeah, I had to kill someone. “Nothing pressing,” I tell him. “Two guys going after Enrique’s mistress. I’ll include it in my report when the op is over.”
“Speaking of his mistress, her full name is Gemma Heart.”
I nod, and switch legs, unimpressed with the intel.
“Heart, dude.”
I shrug. “Yeah?”
“As in her brother is Josh Hart.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I never made the connection. Anytime I heard anyone refer to her as Gemma Heart, I spelled it HEART, not HART.
“You didn’t know?”
Adrenaline spikes, burning through my veins. “No, I didn’t.”
Rice switches legs one more time. “Shit. We were hoping you’d have already made the connection between her and Cruz and her brother. Best we can tell, this thing between her and Cruz is fairly new. It could be payment for keeping her brother alive, but I don’t think so.”
I can’t help but flinch at the thought. “Neither do I. I’ll dig a little deeper,” I say darkly.
Rice stands straight. “We won’t meet again until the night of the benefit. The plan remains the same.”
I give him a nod.
Skepticism lines his face. “In and out. Retrieve the data and then get the fuck out.”
Leaning down, I mutter, “I know the plan.”
He cocks his head in doubt. “Use the beacon locator if you need an extraction team, we’ll be in wetsuits not too far away. Otherwise, we’ll see you on the Mermaid, but either way, Meg wants you out.”
I glance up, trying my best not to make direct eye contact. “Why? What if the op isn’t a success?”
“I guess it won’t matter.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Word is he’s in the process of moving his main operations to Mexico. Since we can’t go after him there, Meg doesn’t want to waste any more resources on him.”
“Where’d she hear that?”
He shrugs. “I’m just the messenger.”
In other words, who-the-fuck-knows. With a shake of my head, I hit the jogging path and take off.
Josh Hart is Gemma’s brother.
Josh Hart, the lowlife who almost killed my best friend’s ex-fiancé.
Josh Hart, the piece of shit who got off so easily because of the evidence I buried.
Gemma is Josh Hart’s sister.
Is Cruz using her as repayment for a debt, or is she using him for something?
And if so, what?
I don’t know the answer, but I will . . . very soon.