Meeting Danger (Danger #1) (2 page)

Minutes later, he finished and pushed her aside.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Without another glance at her, he tugged his pants up before heading down the hallway.

Holding her breath, Autumn watched him walk away, unwilling to release it until the bathroom door slammed shut.

Over the years, she’d found the best way to deal with Butch was to do exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it. And that tactic worked—most of the time, anyway. Sure, he knocked her around from time to time, but in their world, it was to be expected.

Did she want more from her life? Of course she did. But Autumn had quickly learned that her options were limited. This would have to be enough.

If she ran away, Butch would find her. Not because he loved her, but because he considered her his property. And even if she did make her escape and could find a way to support herself, with no education and no skills, it would do her no good.

Butch Cobb had ties to a lot of people. He’d find her.

And he’d kill her.

Shavertown, Pennsylvania

Camden Taylor paced the floor, holding the phone to his ear as his boss filled him in.

“I could really use your help on this one,” Eli Sesay said. “It’s a very potent form of heroin they’re dealing. Did you notice those drug deaths in the news?”

“I did.”

“Based on information a street dealer provided, we think the deaths are related to a ring run by the Wicked Disciples. We need to find out where the drug is being produced and put a stop to the operation before anyone else dies.”

Camden gripped the phone as his boss, the director of Phoenix Task Force, continued to list more reasons why Camden was perfect for this undercover assignment. Although not a black ops unit, their team was largely unknown to the public and came under the purview of the Justice Department. Typically operating undercover, they assisted the FBI, DEA, and local law enforcement agencies across the country with particularly difficult cases, usually those involving kidnappings or narcotics.

Tension built in his shoulders. He rolled his head on his neck as he listened, knowing where the conversation was going.

“The chapter is right there in Pennsylvania, not far from you, and you know bikes better than anyone on the team.”

And there it was . . . the plea for him to return to work after nearly a year’s leave.

The burns he’d sustained in the rescue attempt had healed faster than anticipated, so it wasn’t his injuries that prevented him from rejoining the team . . . it was being responsible for another person’s life. The nightmares about Caleb still haunted him, as did the promise he’d made the boy’s mother that he’d bring him back alive. And Camden had other commitments now, projects for a software development business he’d established to help pay the bills until he decided whether to go back to the task force.

“Listen, Eli, I’m busy with my other work, so I—”

“Shouldn’t you take one more assignment before deciding whether to make your leave permanent?” When he didn’t answer, his boss lowered his voice. “You can’t let that last job make the determination for you, son. We all feel terrible about what happened to the boy, but it wasn’t your fault.”

Camden closed his eyes. “Can you give me some time to think about it?”

“I can give you until Monday.”

He sighed. “All right. I’ll let you know by Monday.”

Frustrated, he set aside his phone and gazed unseeingly out the window over the kitchen sink. If he took this assignment, there was no telling how long it would take. The director had estimated several months, but assignments always took longer than expected. He knew that from experience.

It took time to infiltrate an organization, time to gain trust. And despite what Eli had said, Camden wasn’t sure he was right for this—or any—assignment.

Not anymore.

Turning from the window, he took a look around his grandmother’s kitchen. There was still a list of projects as long as his arm that he needed to complete on this place, repairs and maintenance that had been neglected since she’d died last year. Whether he sold the house or continued living there, those projects needed to get done.

Speaking of which . . .

He looked outside. There was still no sign of the storm that was expected that day. He could put off his coding work until the afternoon and finally get some of the dead leaves raked up. The yard had been neglected for much too long, and with no snow on the ground, this was a good time to see to it.

• • •

After Camden finished raking leaves and picking up dead branches, he headed to the kitchen for a cold beer. Just as he’d tipped it back, his cell phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. He smiled when the name G
RAYSON
M
ATTHEWS
flashed on the screen.

When he answered the call, his best friend dived right into the conversation without even a hello.

“Heard you talked to the boss this morning,” Grayson said.

“I did.”

“And are you going to take the job?”

“I’m not sure. I told him I needed some time to think about it.”

“How long did he give you?”

“Till Monday.”

Grayson chuckled on the other end of the line. “It’s too bad the assignment’s not in DC. Then you could come home for a while. The place has been pretty quiet since you left for Pennsylvania. No one to watch the games with, no one to drink with, no one to carpool to work with . . .”

Camden laughed. “You’ll survive. Besides, it’s a good thing I’m here. This place needs a ton of work.”

He shrugged off his jacket and leaned back against the counter, sobering at the thought of the woman who’d been as instrumental in his life as his parents had been. His grandmother had left him this house in her will, wanting to help him get established.

“Gran wasn’t able to do much the last year or so before she died. I really wish I could have come up to Shavertown more often, for more reasons than one.”

“Your grandmother knew how busy we were in DC with the task force. I think she understood.” Changing the subject, Grayson asked, “How’s the software project going?”

“Almost finished.”

“Maybe it’s a sign you should take the assignment.”

“I’m signed up for another project after this one.”

“Can’t you get out of it?”

Camden didn’t immediately answer. The thing was, he could refer it someone else. And a part of him did want to take this assignment. But what if it resulted in the same kind of tragedy as the last one?

It was hard to see past the grief and guilt Caleb’s death had created. The boy had been only sixteen when he’d died. The kidnappers had never planned to release him. Once they’d confirmed the ransom had been wired, they’d shot the boy and set the cabin they’d been holding him in on fire to destroy evidence. Despite the director and Gray telling him differently, the boy’s death had been preventable. If only they’d found him sooner . . .

“Someday you’re going to realize there was nothing you could have done.”

Camden sighed. Maybe Eli and Grayson were right. Maybe he did need to get back in the field again before making a decision about his career.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to take a little more time to think about it. I’ll let you know as soon as I decide.”

Once he’d hung up with Grayson, Camden logged on to his laptop to check his e-mails, grateful that he’d decided to minor in computer programming in college while getting his degree in criminal justice. Months ago, he’d put up a profile on a site that connected businesses with software developers. Several days later, he’d been awarded his first project. And since then, the work had come fast and steady.

Granted, software development wasn’t as exciting as being undercover, but it was still meaningful. For one assignment, he’d created a system to track a company’s travel expenses. For another, he’d improved the way his client’s insurance claims were reported. Both companies had offered him additional work, which provided him an opportunity to make a significant career change.

Making a customer’s vision come to life had its rewards. And it didn’t hurt that no lives were put in danger in the process.

Lame excuse, man.
Grayson’s voice sounded inside his head, but Camden forced his thoughts back to his work.

Scranton, Pennsylvania

Although Camden didn’t regret the decision to take the assignment, anticipation still made him jittery. A week after he’d accepted the assignment, he bounced one foot nervously as the van he rode in pulled through the gates of Edgewater Correctional Facility, north of Scranton, Pennsylvania, and not far from the New York border.

Shifting forward in his seat, he took a good look at the huge concrete structure looming ahead. In an effort to make this transport look as real as possible, Camden sat cuffed hand and foot, wearing a green jumpsuit like any other inmate. Eli was beside him, his nearly ebony skin contrasting against the light gray of a prison guard’s uniform.

Although Camden had never given much thought to what went on inside a prison, he had thought of little else since he’d agreed to take this assignment a week ago. How easy would it be to gain the trust of Colton Phillips, aka Slider, a member of the Wicked Disciples?

When the van stopped in front of the building, Eli gave Camden a nod. The driver opened the van door and Eli helped Camden down the steps.

Legs shackled, he began the slow trudge up the walkway to the prison’s intake entrance, trying not to shiver in the chilly air. For the next few weeks he would be known as Cameron Shea, which was the name listed on the dummied-up transfer papers Eli had prepared for the operation, and was now carrying inside a large envelope tucked under his arm.

A few minutes later, he and Eli were seated in the visitors’ chairs in the warden’s office.

Edgewater’s warden, a rail-thin middle-aged man named Silas Frake, glanced through the papers before he leaned back in his chair. “We’ve never had a request like this before.”

“It’s new for us too,” Eli said.

Frake narrowed his gaze on Camden. “Let me make sure I have everything straight. You’re trying to establish a relationship with Phillips?”

Camden nodded. “That’s right. He’s a member of the motorcycle club I’m trying to infiltrate.”

“And you’re estimating being here for three weeks?”

“Yes.”

Hopefully it would be enough time. He’d have his work cut out for him trying to gain Phillips’s trust in that short time frame. The goal was to walk out of here with an “in” to the club.

“What can I do to help?” the warden asked.

“I’d like to be put on the same job detail as Phillips.”

Frake turned toward his computer. As a tropical screensaver disappeared, a primitive-looking DOS-based system came onto the screen, and he put on his reading glasses before pecking at a few keys.

“Phillips is working in the gym. I’ll assign you there too.”

Eli nodded. “We’ll need a signal Camden can use with the guards.”

The three men came up with a plan where Camden would run a hand through his hair and bring it to a rest on the back of his head if he needed to be brought in to see the warden.

“I’ll make sure your yard schedule matches Phillips’s.” The warden finished typing and then asked, “Do you want an overview of the prison?”

“Please.”

He brought a map out of a drawer, laid it across his desk, and pointed out the different areas of the prison.

“Any questions?”

Camden took one last look at the map before shaking his head. “No.”

“I’ll cover everything with my guards, then. They’ll all be aware of you and that signal.”

“We appreciate it,” Eli said, and pushed up from his seat.

Camden and the director shook hands with the warden. A prison guard escorted Eli and Camden to a processing area, where he had to part ways with the director.

“Make sure you don’t go cutting your hair in here,” Eli said.

“That wouldn’t do much for the biker look, would it?”

“No. Good thing it’s on the long side already.” Camden raised a hand to hair that now reached the bottom of his collar. “I’ve been so focused on my software projects that I haven’t had a chance to get it cut.”

His boss nodded. “Don’t shave either, if you can help it. And don’t let anyone get to you. Given your size, though, the inmates should know better than to mess with you.”

Like most of his teammates, Camden stood at just over six feet tall. The regular workouts he and Grayson had stuck with since college had turned what was once boyhood scrawniness into rippling muscles.

Eli said good-bye to Camden and headed for the exit.

On his own now, Camden steeled himself as he changed from the green jumpsuit into the orange one worn by Edgewater’s inmates. He put on his game face as the guard handed him a set of sheets.

“Follow me. I’ll show you where your cell is.”

Camden and the guard were buzzed through two security doors before entering the west cell block. As they walked down a long corridor, Camden’s nose was assaulted with the stench of human waste. He did his best to ignore it.

The guard stopped in front of an open cell and gestured with his hand. “This is you. Yard time is ending, so your cell mate should be back soon.”

Stepping into the cell only made the smell worse. Camden set his sheets onto the empty bottom bunk after the guard walked off. Then he turned around and studied the tight space.

Even with the door open, the cell felt confined. Reminding himself he didn’t suffer from claustrophobia, he paced the narrow walkway between the bunk beds and the wall. If it felt tight now, how would it feel with another man inside and the cell door closed?

His gaze went to the small metal sink attached to the wall. A matching metal toilet sat beside it. The lack of privacy wasn’t something he was looking forward to either.

Get your mind on something else.

Camden looked up to his cell mate’s bunk. With the exception of a picture of a middle-aged couple taped on the wall above the mattress, his roommate didn’t seem big on personal effects. Maybe he hadn’t been there long.