Mal rubbed his jaw, and scruff scratched his hand. He probably needed to shave at some point. “When tonight goes wrong, Isaac is going to look for a problem. He’ll see one where you think you’re covered. How good is Orchid?”
“Not great. We’ve arranged to meet up when she’s out either peddling wares or recruiting members, and she’s had to get away from the group several times. I don’t think she’s under suspicion, but who knows?” Angus flipped off the heat switch. “You have more undercover experience, and you’ve infiltrated the cult now. What’s your recommendation?”
Mal ran his hands down his jeans. They’d dried overnight and felt rough. “Let me think about it. My gut feeling is that we need to pull her out. Soon.”
Wolfe parked the truck outside a twenty-four-hour grocery store. The lights glimmered out into the parking lot, but nobody was shopping at this odd time. “The pharmacy is in a stand-alone building three blocks to the south.”
Force handed back a tablet with the schematics of the neighborhood. He pointed to observation points. “West here, Raider, there.”
West jumped out of the car. At least it had stopped raining. “Where are we taking them once we have them?”
“There are two interrogation rooms back at headquarters,” Angus said as he slammed his door.
West paused. “Where?”
“Right off the elevator. Small door? Everyone thinks it’s a closet.” Angus checked his gun.
A siren split the night.
“Shit. Go,” Force snapped, launching himself into a run.
Malcolm breathed in the fresh air and fell into step, staying in the shadows. They reached the scene quickly. Two uniformed police officers, one nearly hunched over with age, escorted two handcuffed guys away from a cheerful-looking pink building.
Force nodded at Raider. “Let’s do this.”
Mal paused and then kept to the side as Wolfe did the same. A newsman screeched to a stop in the lot. “Back,” he whispered.
Silent as death, Wolfe retreated farther into the shadows. “This came together well.”
Too well? Mal angled his neck to see Eagle and Leroy, two of Isaac’s lieutenants. Apparently, George had gotten to stay home for the night.
“He might just shoot you the second you arrive,” Wolfe said conversationally.
Mal watched as Force flashed his badge and started the dance with the local cops. Raider instantly moved to intercept the news camera, no doubt already pouring on the charm.
“I like it here. In the dark,” Wolfe said.
Mal kept alert just in case. “Yeah, me too.”
“I hope the cult people don’t shoot you,” Wolfe said. “If they do, don’t worry. I’ll hunt down each and every one of them and tear their heads off. Literally.”
Mal cut his eyes to the soldier, who was barely visible near an old sycamore tree. “I’d appreciate that, Wolfe.” Was the guy nuts or just dedicated? Or both? But he did have a point. Isaac Leon wasn’t stupid. Mal was an ex-cop who’d shown up suddenly, and now two of the main family guys, men who’d been robbing and burglarizing across the country for years, get caught? “I’ll need to retrieve that bug before Isaac starts looking.”
“He might not know his guys were caught by the time you show up at the mansion. What’s the plan?” Wolfe whispered.
“April is picking me up at the fake apartment around seven.” Which left several hours for him to figure out how not to get his head blown off.
Wolfe straightened. “Here we go.”
Mal watched as the local cops handed over the two prisoners, obviously with great irritation. A van pulled up, seemingly out of nowhere, and Force took the two guys toward it. “The van is a nice touch. You ever get the feeling Force has everything already planned? Every minute detail for the team?” Mal asked.
Wolfe shrugged. “Better him than anybody else, if you ask me. He just wants to catch the bad guys.”
“At what cost?” Mal murmured quietly.
Wolfe took out and started unwrapping a piece of gum. “Any cost. You know?”
Mal exhaled slowly. Yeah, he did know. But for the first time in his entire life, he had something to lose. And Pippa was right smack-dab in the middle of this mess.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Pippa had just finished baking cookies when her phone rang. She moved to it, wincing at the tenderness in her rear end. Then she chuckled, feeling oddly light. Malcolm West as a wild man when unleashed. She clicked the button. “Hello?”
“Ms. Smith? This is Liliana at Wrenches Mechanics and More? You said to call if I had an opening to look at your car, and because my dumbass dickhead of a bastard boyfriend dumped me last night, it turns out my morning is free.” The voice was strong, female, and sounded young. “You said you’re about an hour out of Minuteville, and I can leave in just a few minutes. I’ve finished burning the clothes he left at my place.”
Pippa sucked in air and tried to follow the conversation. “Um, okay.” Wow. That was a lot.
“I need an address, lady,” Liliana said easily.
Pippa shook herself into awareness. Giving her address went against everything she had inside her, but there wasn’t a choice. She gave it, trying to sound sure, not tentative.
“Got it. I’ll be there in an hour and will probably stop for a latte on the way. You want anything?” Liliana asked.
Pippa bit her lip. “No, but thanks.” A latte would be cold by the time the woman arrived.
“Yep.” Liliana hung up. Probably to go burn pictures or something.
Okay. The woman was a mechanic listed in the white pages on the internet with a good website. There were tons of reviews, and some of them went back five years. This wasn’t some weird trap. If anybody from the family had found Pippa, they wouldn’t have wasted time sabotaging her car. They would’ve taken her quickly.
She cleared her throat. If she was going to have any sort of life with Malcolm, she had to stop being so paranoid. Pressing Speed Dial, she tried to reach Trixie.
The phone rang, and the automated voice came on saying to leave a message. Pippa frowned and left a quick one. It wasn’t like Trixie not to answer her phone, but maybe she’d ended up with a morning shift at the restaurant.
Pippa stretched her neck and set the phone down. Her body was all sorts of tingly. She glanced at the kitchen table, and heat splashed into her face.
The things he’d done to her. She’d challenged him to do each one. Her heart felt lighter somehow. Was this what love felt like for normal people? Was she in love with him? It had been such a short time they’d known each other.
Did that really matter?
More importantly, what did she want to do about it? She was tired of hiding and being scared. When he got home, she’d ply him with cookies until he hit a sugar high, and then she was going to tell him everything. Especially the bad parts that might put her in jail.
She’d already finished her work for the day. The construction company was expanding and wanted her to file paperwork on S Corp status. It was surprisingly easy. So, maybe she’d bake more cookies. Mal could always take some to work.
She baked happily for about an hour until a vehicle drove up outside. Curious, she moved to the window to peer out, seeing a gray van with the Wrenches Mechanics and More logo on the side. A woman about six feet tall jumped out, her hair curly and black, her bounce definitely energetic. Even wearing overalls and a slim tool belt, she looked like a runway model. All curvy and sleek. Within seconds, she was knocking on the door.
Pippa wiped her hands down her apron and opened it, her heartbeat ramping up. She was about to let a complete stranger into her home.
“Hi. You must be Pippa. I’m Liliana,” the woman said, her brown eyes sparkling against her darker skin. “Where’s the car?”
“In the garage.” Feeling a bit subdued compared to so much energy, Pippa walked Liliana to the garage door and opened it. “I’m sorry about your boyfriend.” Was that lame to say?
“I k
now, right?” Liliana shook her head. “What a dick. We’ve been dating for almost six months, and he’s like, ‘I’m not sure I’m ready for this.’” Her voice had lowered into a hick-sounding tone. “Duh.” She moved forward and popped the hood. “Let’s see what’s going on here. In case I require it, is the owner’s manual in the glove box?”
“Yes.” Pippa stood there, uncertain. “If you don’t need me, I have cookies in the oven. Just come on in.”
“No prob.” Liliana leaned over and started studying the engine, continuing to mimic the ex-boyfriend. “‘I like you and all . . .’”
Pippa bit back a chuckle and walked up the sidewalk and inside, pausing after shutting the door. For the first time in five years, she didn’t lock it. Liliana would need to come inside. It was time to start living a somewhat normal life. She’d need to with Mal.
Liliana knocked about fifteen minutes later, and Pippa called out for her to come in. Just like a sane person.
She finished setting some of the cookies on a plate and brought them into the living room, where Liliana was waiting by the front door. “Would you like to sit?”
Liliana’s dark brows crinkled. “Um, okay.” She moved to the chair by the fireplace, her tools clanking together. “Most people don’t offer me cookies.” But when Pippa set the plate down, she took one, her eyelids fluttering as she ate. “These are fantastic.”
“Thanks.” Pippa felt like a dork, but she sat. “So. How bad is the car?” She had some savings, but not nearly enough for another car.
Liliana finished chewing, her gaze seeking. “Well, not great. How’s your boyfriend situation?”
A warning ticked through Pippa. “Um, good. Why?”
Liliana took a deep breath. “I couldn’t see anything wrong under the hood, so I investigated a little more, checked out the owner’s manual, and found the ignition fuse under the dash. Or rather, where the fuse should be.”
Pippa clasped her hands together, relief overtaking her. “Oh. Good. It’s just a burned-out fuse.” Those had to be easy to find, right?
“No.” Liliana shook her head. “There was no fuse. It was gone. Completely.”
Pippa straightened. That didn’t make sense. “Did it just fall out? Did you find it?”
Liliana’s frown deepened, and she leaned forward, putting her hand on Pippa’s knee. “You’re not getting this. Somebody took the ignition fuse out of your car. On purpose. So it wouldn’t run.”
Pippa shook her head, panic coating her throat. “No. That’s not possible.”
“Okay. Deep breaths, Sister.” Liliana leaned back. “Who has had access to your car?”
“Just me. And my, um, boyfriend.” Pippa’s throat hurt like she’d swallowed glass.
Liliana pressed her lips together. “Men are assholes. Why in the hell would he take your fuse? It’s not like you can’t call an Uber or taxi, even way out here.”
Pippa tried to make sense of these facts. “Mal’s friend was here yesterday, and he said he knew about cars. He looked at mine. Should he have discovered the problem?”
Liliana slowly nodded. “Yeah. If he was really looking, he would’ve found it. I did.” She shook her head. “Dicks always stick together. If your jerk boyfriend lied, so did his buddy.”
“Well, ah—” Pippa couldn’t breathe. She stood, and the room tilted crazily around her. How did this make sense? Wait a minute. Why would Mal do such a thing? If not him, then who? There hadn’t been anybody else around. What if the family had found her and just wanted her to stay in place? So they’d messed with her car.
That was crazy.
The family wouldn’t have just taken a fuse. They would’ve taken her. She swallowed several times, really wanting to throw up. “Can you fix it?”
Liliana stood, her dark eyes concerned. “Let me go check in my van. I’m sure there are fuses in there somewhere that’ll work. We’ll get you taken care of.” She swiped another cookie. “Are you in danger? I mean, do you want me to call the cops?”
“No,” Pippa burst out. Then she calmed herself. “No, but thank you. My boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend, is just a little possessive. But this is the last straw.”
“You go, girl.” Liliana waved the cookie. “None of them are a damn bit good, I’m tellin’ ya. A girl is better off with a cat for daytime companionship and a good vibrator for the night. Neither one will break your heart.” She headed for the door, munching away. “I’ll be back in a few.”
“Thank you.” Pippa forced herself to walk normally to the bedroom. She’d already partially packed, so she drew those suitcases out of the closet before heading to the office. Her records fit easily in a large bag, and her laptop packed up nicely. She’d have to leave the printer because it was so big.
A quick glance showed that nobody would know she’d moved on if they didn’t open any drawers. Good.
Survival mode came back surprisingly easy.
“Pippa?” Liliana called from the other room.
“Coming.” Pippa took her purse and walked into the other room, her head hurting almost as bad as her chest. “Did you fix it?”
“Yep. No problem.” Liliana rocked back on her boots. “I’m really sorry, by the way. It sucks.”
Pippa forced a smile. The serene one she’d learned to wear so long ago to survive. “It really does suck. How much do I owe you?”
Liliana waved a hand. “Nothing. It wasn’t a big deal, and us gals have to stick together.”
The kindness pricked tears into Pippa’s eyes. “No. You had to drive quite a way, and you worked hard. Please let me pay you.”
Liliana eyed the still-full plate of cookies. “Put those in a bag for me? We’ll call it even.”
Her throat clogging, Pippa moved into the kitchen for a bag. The table caught her eye, and she stilled, staring at it. Oh God. Anger finally punched through the fuzzy fog of shock. That total dick. Grasping a bag, she returned to the living room and packed the cookies for Liliana. “Thank you for everything,” she whispered.
Liliana patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “It’s okay. He wasn’t worth it, right?”
“Right.” Pippa’s chin lifted. “You’re exactly right.”
Liliana took her cookies and left.
Pippa stared at the closed door. The barrier that had protected her from the world until he’d moved in next door. Malcolm was an undercover cop currently working on an undercover operation. He’d sabotaged her car and wanted her to stay right where she was. Was he part of the family? If so, how did that make sense? Why not bring her in right away?
If not, then what was his case? If it was the family, then was he working her to get to them?
She didn’t have any answers other than it had to have been Malcolm who’d messed with her car. Everything in her wanted to wait for him to get home and confront him. Maybe kick him in the balls. But what if he somehow had a good explanation?
Yeah, that was her ovaries talking.
She was so tired of being prey. So fracking tired. Turning, she grabbed keys out of her junk drawer and hustled through the back of the house and over to Mal’s sliding back door. It was locked. Biting her lip, she used the key Mrs. Maloni had given her so long ago. Mal hadn’t had time to change the locks, probably.
Nope. The door slid right open.
Feeling slightly victorious, she stepped inside and went through kitchen drawers, finding two hidden knives and another gun. The weapon was heavy in her hand, and she quickly returned it to its hiding place.
The living room was next. Nothing interesting.
His scent was all around her. Warm and wild. She moved into the bedroom and found another gun, as well as a manila file folder in the dresser by his bed.
Holding her breath, she slowly opened it to see pictures of herself as a kid.
When she’d lived with the family.
Betrayal snapped something inside her with an almost audible crunch.
Oh God. It was time to grab her hidden bag. She had to run. Now
.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“This thing probably has a weight limit,” Raider observed, shifting his body as the elevator descended to their offices.
Malcolm winced. “You had to say that.” The interior was way too jam-packed with the six of them. The two prisoners were cuffed and hooded, so they had no clue who was in the elevator with them. They were also oddly silent. Finally, they reached the basement and the doors opened. Raider escaped before Mal, but it was close.
When he’d gotten clear, he turned.
Force had Eagle by the arm while Wolfe had Leroy. “We’ll be right back.” Force pushed the guy he was holding toward the small doorway, which he opened with a key from his pocket. It swung inward.
Mal moved to his desk and yanked out his folding chair to sit. It was already around noon. The booking and then wrangling of the two burglars had taken a surprising amount of time. He wanted to call Pippa. Check on her, make sure she was all right.
Raider looked around. “Which desk should I take?”
Mal shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
Brigid Banaghan strode out of the computer room with a stack of paper in her hands. She’d ditched the prison jumpsuit for jeans and a sweatshirt. Her hair was in a ponytail, and her eyes were clear in the morning hour. “Angus sent me the prints on your two guys. I did a deep dive, and this is what I found.” She handed the papers over to Raider and then waited, her feet shuffling.
Malcolm smiled and gestured toward the nearest desk. “Might as well claim your spot.”
“I did.” She tilted her head toward the computer room. “That place is all mine.”
Raider flipped over a page. “So long as you follow the rules, you can stay. The second you don’t . . .”
She glared at him. “You are such an uptight jackass.”
Amusement took Mal, and he cleared his throat. “What did you find?”
Raider answered before Brigid could. “Both have priors, and their prints have been found at crime scenes, mainly burglaries, across the country. There was also an assault scene in Seattle and another in Dallas for the guy now called Eagle.”