Double Cross (15 page)

10:00 P.M. SUNDAY

Laurel had memorized her shooting of Thatcher Graves to the second. He wore a Kevlar vest with an ample supply of fake blood. She carried a cloth bag containing a dozen eggs and a loaf of whole wheat bread and exited through the automatic doors of Kroger. Her Charger was parked at the far end of the lot, away from other vehicles and innocent people. No one could get hurt tonight.

Her heels clipped across the pavement.

Timing.

One.

Two.

Three.

Thatcher appeared at the driver’s side of her car. “Laurel, I need to talk to you.” His voice rose across the night just loud enough for Cayden’s men to hear, in a truck parked on the edge of the lot.

She moved faster. Shoulders rigid. Head high. “I told you to leave me alone.”

“You’re making a terrible mistake with Morton Wilmington. It’s not too late to save us and your career.”

She laughed. “I’m right where I want to be. The FBI got rid of me.” She sneered. “You and I were never together.”

“What kind of future do you have with him?”

“He’s a Christian now.”

“Right. That’s what he used to get out of prison.”

“Get away from my car or you’ll regret it.”

“Not until I talk some sense into you.”

One-minute conversation over. She dropped the cloth bag onto the pavement and reached for the revolver in her purse, a Ruger that SSA Preston supplied. “You’re jealous. That’s all. I’m tired of your stupid calls.” She pulled the trigger.

He fell backward, blood spurting from his chest. She chirped her alarm, slid inside, backed over her groceries, and drove away.

Her attention flew to her rearview mirror. The truck she suspected followed at a safe distance. Her heart wasn’t racing, nor were her hands shaking. This was her job.

“Done,” she spoke into her phone to SSA Preston.

One murder closer to nailing Wilmington and Cayden.

10:30 P.M. SUNDAY

Daniel’s phone rang, and the number wasn’t familiar. Lately that meant bad news. He walked into the kitchen to take the call.

“Officer Daniel Hilton here.”

“This is FBI Supervisory Special Agent Alan Preston regarding Morton Wilmington’s request.”

As if Daniel would believe a voice on the other end of the phone. “Excuse me? I have no idea who you are.”

“You’ve been cleared and will be working with Houston FBI until the case is ended.”

“I’m an HPD officer.”

“On temporary loan. Can you be at the FBI office tomorrow during your lunch hour to discuss your new responsibilities?”

Maybe this was legit. He’d call HPD headquarters to find out. “I can be there around eleven.”

“This is not to be discussed with anyone.”

“Yes, sir.”

Let the games begin.

8:05 A.M. MONDAY

Daniel started his beat for the day, while his mind spun with the case and what it meant to work with Wilmington and Laurel. Sounded like a bad triangle to him. He responded to an assault at a bakery and coffee shop, his first call of the day. He turned on his siren and cautiously sped through a red light.

When he walked into the bakery, the Asian owner looked like he’d gotten the knuckle end of a beating
 
—swollen face, broken tooth, and two black eyes. His wife wept while washing blood from the counter, and the owner locked the door behind Daniel.

“Please, leave the blood there,” he said as he called for backup. “Investigators can determine DNA and fingerprints.”

The small woman shook her head. “I’m sorry. Should have known that. Makes me feel better to be cleaning. Without something to do, I’m afraid I’ll fall apart.” She stared at the red-tinged cloth. “The blood is my husband’s. The men wore gloves.”

Great. “Work type or plastic?”

“The kind medical people use.”

Her husband, a thin man with glasses, gestured to her. “Sit with me. We’ll talk to the officer together.”

“Sir, can I call an ambulance?” Daniel said. “Your injuries should be looked at by medical personnel.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He dabbed at the blood around his mouth.

“I need to ask a few questions,” Daniel said. “How did this get started?”

He dragged his tongue over his lips. “We opened at six and the day was just normal. A man and a woman walked in and asked for coffee and donuts. They smelled like they’d been drinking all night. Hadn’t showered either. The man asked for eight buttermilk chocolate glazed, but all I had were six because of a regular pickup order. Told him I’d have more in thirty minutes. He pounded his fist on the counter and called me a liar.” The owner took a long breath, and his wife leaned on his shoulder. “I’m a little more shaken than I thought. Before you arrived, I was mad. Paced the floor before calling 911. Now I keep thinking what could have happened.”

“I’ll get you some coffee,” his wife said. “You too, Officer?”

“Yes, ma’am. That would be good.” Daniel offered encouragement in his smile. The couple’s business was in a good neighborhood where crime was at a minimum. “I understand telling me what happened is hard. But everything you remember will help us arrest these guys.”

The man nodded. “He gave me two minutes to find the rest of his order. I told him if he didn’t leave, I’d call the police.” He touched a purple bruise on his face. “Wrong thing to say. He grabbed me, and I tossed a cup of coffee onto his shirt. You see the result. He said he’d kill me. Pulled a gun out, but the woman told him to calm down. They had a job waiting that was more important than donuts. The two argued, then left.”

“Was it about leaving or settling things with you?”

“Leaving. Whatever they were supposed to do had them riled.”

“Did you recognize the gun?”

“No, sir. I don’t own one.”

“Any identifying marks on the two?”

“The man and woman both had dark hair. Hers was long. They wore jeans. The man had a black T-shirt with a cobra on the front. And a tattoo.”

His wife called to Daniel. “The woman called him Crow.”

Daniel circled the name on his report. “What were they driving?”

“A dark-green Dodge pickup. It was beat up too. Full of holes.”

Sounded like the truck that followed him and his grandparents. He nixed the similarities, viewing it as too coincidental. “Did you happen to get the license plate?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Please, find them.” The woman set two Styrofoam cups on the table and wrung her hands. “The man who did this to my husband threatened to come back and finish the job.” She flushed. “What he planned to do to us is unthinkable.”

Daniel clenched his fist. Sometimes it was hard not to get personally involved. His job: find those two and make an arrest. If they’d bullied this couple, then they probably had a string of other crimes too. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to ensure these men are apprehended.”

“Thank you.” The owner sipped his coffee. “What can we do for you? Donuts or a muffin sounds pitiful, but I don’t have anything else to offer.”

“I’m fine.” Daniel shook his hand “Sir, make sure you get those injuries checked out. Your wife wants you healthy.” He glanced to a corner facing the door. “You have a security camera.”

“Yes. It feeds into my computer. I should have pointed it out earlier. Nervous, I guess. Want to see the footage?”

The man retrieved a laptop from the back of his bakery and pulled up the security camera footage. Clear images of the man and woman. The woman received a call. Less than ten seconds later, she grabbed Crow’s arm.

A siren alerted Daniel to another patrol car. He needed to work fast and e-mailed the camera footage to himself before finishing up the report. Call it his suspicious nature, but he wondered if these two had gotten hungry after surveilling Laurel . . . less than half a mile from her apartment.

10:30 A.M. MONDAY

Daniel wore his uniform to his appointment with SSA Preston. After all, if the call had been legitimate, they didn’t call the shots until Tuesday. He’d woven through back streets to the FBI office. Taking chances often left bodies in the wake.

Once at the FBI office, SSA Preston confirmed the previous night’s call. He escorted Daniel to an office where he was introduced to the assistant special-agent-in-charge, David Stearns, and Special Agent Thatcher Graves, whom he’d met previously. Preston explained the undercover operation, noting Laurel’s position, Wilmington, and now Daniel.

“Your records indicate success in undercover operations, and you have a personal stake. We respect your discretion,” Preston said. “We need to infiltrate the operation and secure evidence to make arrests. Wilmington claims Geoff Cayden is part of the scam, and he has a partner.”

“Do you have any reason to believe Wilmington is telling the truth other than the claims?” Daniel said.

“We’ve verified what he’s given us.”

Daniel had worked with informers who’d slit his throat for the right price. Wilmington didn’t strike him as any different. “I’m ready to see this to the end. My grandparents have been threatened, and two of their friends are dead.”

“The scammers understand natural deaths rarely lead to an investigation. Family members have no reason to request an autopsy.”

The problem with Tom Hanson and Emma Dockson.

“We can handle a disguise,” Preston said.

Daniel shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Special Agent Evertson and Wilmington are taking the necessary steps to prove themselves to Cayden,” Preston continued.

Thatcher gestured for Daniel’s attention. “The FBI agent killed last night in the Kroger parking lot? None other than yours truly.”

Daniel smiled. More pieces slid into place. A reason for the FBI not to release the victim’s name. “Who supposedly fired the shot? Laurel or Wilmington?”

“Laurel.”

“That cements whose side she’s working for. Are either of them wearing a wire or recording device?”

“Too dangerous. It’s your job,” Preston said. “We’ll equip you with a few before you leave.”

He nodded. Too dangerous for Laurel and Wilmington to be wired, but not for him. At least ASAC Stearns, SSA Preston, and Agent Graves hadn’t asked if he had personal feelings for Laurel. But all of this was about justice, and he was on board with whatever it took.

“We want to bring you up to date on the latest findings. Wilmington says a woman by the name of Josie Fields is supposedly working with Cayden. You know her as Liz Austin, one of her many aliases.”

Daniel absorbed this news without reacting. Now he understood why the woman had been interested in him. Who’d suspect someone involved in a scam who dated a cop?

“We have addresses for her in Seattle, Dallas, Denver, Phoenix, and last placed in Miami. Ten years ago she worked alone. She likes wealthy, married men. None issued a complaint until she hooked up with a man in Phoenix. She claimed to be pregnant, and he discovered her game. He was sterile, demanded to see the pregnancy test. She threatened to go to his wife with their affair, but he reported her to local law enforcement. She stabbed him. Left him for dead. Then skipped town. Looks like missing credit cards were in the mix. We haven’t heard from her in all these years, which feeds into the scam. She served with Wilmington and Cayden in Delta Force. Same unit. Her specialty is disguises.”

“Silver Hospitality does extensive background checks. She covered her tracks.” Daniel mentally placed what a relationship with Austin could have cost him. “I had her phone number at one time.
Suspected her involvement in the scam and called her, but it was disconnected.” He jotted down the number from his contacts and handed it to Preston.

“Looks like she’s gone from rich, married men to preying on the elderly with Cayden.”

“Maybe Wilmington too. If he’s involved, you’re about to bust a huge case.”

“
We’re
about to.” Preston pressed his lips together. “Another reason why we want you on the inside. This afternoon our media coordinator will hold a press conference, alert the public again before anyone else is victimized.

“One more thing,” Preston said. “You begin tonight. Before you leave here, we have three burner phones. The three of you are to use them for all communications regarding the case. I can’t force you to leave your other phone at home, but the scammers could trace you.”