No Good Deed (47 page)

“Do we have eyes?”

“We have one radar unit, but we’re too far away to use it on the house. I can get a team close enough to the barn—there’s natural cover on the backside.”

“Do it. I want to know how many are in the barn and what they’re doing.”

“Suggestion?”

“I’m all ears. Until the ASAC gets here and takes over.”

“There are six outbuildings—the barn is the largest.” He unfolded a piece of paper from his pocket and drew out rough boxes. “The barn is here—northwest corner. Three buildings less than one thousand square feet are between the barn and the main house. On the south side of the property there appear to be several cottages. No movement has been seen on the south side except for one of the houses. This area, we might be seeing a meth lab or another chemically or explosively dangerous situation. What I’d like to do as soon as the sheriff’s SWAT team arrives is split up—we’ll clear and secure the barn and three buildings north of the house; the sheriff will clear and secure the three small houses. That leaves the main house and we can surround it.”

“Set it up,” she said.

Blair waited, not something she enjoyed. She trusted her SWAT team—they had the best-trained SWAT in Southern California, hands down. They worked well with the LA County sheriff because they often cross-trained together. With shrinking resources, they needed to help each other as much as possible.

Ten minutes passed before Blair heard from SWAT that they were in position and would be going in after scanning the barn with the radar unit.

Chatter was minimal on the SWAT communications channel—mostly reports and check-ins and all-clears. Then she heard something that chilled her.

“Delta Team reports no movement in the barn. Repeat, five suspects, no movement.”

“This is Alpha One, where are the suspects?”

“Prone on the ground. No movement. No signs of life. How would you like us to proceed?”

“Proceed with caution. Go, go, go!”

Blair listened from the safety of the tactical station set up just outside the Hunt property gates. A minute later a command was issued, “Barn is wired. I repeat, barn is wired to explode. Do not breach any building!”

“Are the suspects moving?” another voice asked.

“Negative, we have line-of-sight, five suspects are immobile in the center of the barn. Main barn door has trip wire. We’re backing off. Everyone proceed with extreme caution. Bomb unit is on the scene. Stand down.”

A suicide pact. Either they were already dead and planned to take out as many cops as they could, or they were planning to die in the process.

But setting up explosives took both skill and time. When had they done it? After her visit yesterday? Was this the plan all along? Did Margaret Hunt plan to kill herself rather than go to prison?

Or maybe Margaret Hunt wasn’t here. She hadn’t seen the woman. She’d heard a female voice over the intercom … it could have been anyone. Blair had assumed it was Margaret.

She called Hans Vigo. “Hans, the property is wired to explode if we breach the buildings. The bomb squad is working on it now, but there have been no shots and no sightings for forty minutes. Five suspects down and presumed dead—possible suicide or murder-suicide. I can’t get to the house until it’s cleared, but my gut tells me that Hunt is not here.”

*   *   *

Elise laughed as she bounced in the passenger seat. “You were amazing, as always, big brother.” She leaned over and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek.

“Stop that,” Toby said. But he, too, was smiling. “You did well, kid. Everyone doubted you, except me. I knew you’d do it.”

“You’ve always had faith in me. That’s why I love you best.”

Love
was a relative word. What did it really mean? She’d read all the definitions and she wasn’t feeling it. What did an “intense feeling of deep affection” mean, anyway?

But Toby
loved
that she liked him the most. And she did—because he was fun and smart and let her have fun when she wanted to. He’d played the part that Nicole created
so
well, he should win an award. Big, bad Tobias, the man no one knew but everyone feared. Elise had called him the Dread Pirate Robert, but Nicole didn’t like that. It wasn’t
serious
enough. Nicole, the definition of a wet blanket.

But Nicole was smart—super smart. She thought ten steps ahead of everyone else, and Elise could listen to her for hours telling stories about how she set up this informant or took out that competition or pulled another one over on the DEA.

“I didn’t want to hit you,” Toby said as he drove up the highway. He exited on a frontage road just outside the city.

“I
told
you we had to make it look good.”

“You think we’re going to fail.”

“No—I think we’re going to win
big
but it’ll fuck with that bitch fed who reads minds.”

“She doesn’t read minds.”

“Like hell. But no one will believe her. She was slapped down good. Almost got contempt of court and jail.”

“I wish she had—I could have taken care of her in jail.”

“Guess what? She’s
engaged
. Saw a big fat diamond ring on her finger.”

He didn’t say anything.

“What?” Elise said.

“Maybe this is going to be more interesting than I thought.”

“It’s all interesting. Nicole is on the FBI’s most wanted list! I’ll bet she’s excited
and
pissed off.”

“Don’t push her today, little girl.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I’m serious. She’s on edge and Joseph is being a prick.”

“Big surprise there.” She rolled her eyes. Joseph was less fun than Nicole.

Toby parked behind a Cadillac Escalade in a remote area. No one was around. “Oh, I like it!” Elise exclaimed and jumped out of the car.

“I knew you would.”

They climbed in and Toby cranked up the air-conditioning as he sped off. “What did you mean about this getting interesting?” Elise said, remembering that she’d digressed.

“We have Sean Rogan.”

“Get outta here.”

“Seriously. Grabbed him outside his house. He’s the one who stole our money. Hacked in and siphoned most of it off before Everett could put it in our accounts.”

“I
knew
it!”

“What did you know?”

“He was there—somewhere close—when I was with horny old Everett. The bitch Kincaid said something in court today—about how I forced Everett to transfer the money.
Forced.
Really. It was
our
money to begin with.” She frowned. There was something else she needed to remember … what was it?

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not, I just—” Then she remembered. “Mona.”

“That fucking bitch. I’ll snap her neck the minute I see her.”

“She said something to me when she picked me up. I wanted the rest of her files—she had everything on everyone. She said everything was gone, all she had left was what she’d already given us. Someone destroyed her life’s work and she was going to rebuild somewhere else.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“When the fuck could I have done that? I wasn’t exactly allowed to have visitors in the loony bin!”

“You know how.”

“Johnson is a prick and I don’t like him. He almost screwed up our plans today. You should kill him. You should let me kill him. We can kill him together! That would be fun.”

“Elise—”

“Well, you know now, and that’s what’s important. I’ll bet Sean Rogan is the one who did it. If he’s all that good and shit.”

“Why would he? How would he have known that Mona had blackmail files? Do you think the feds ordered him to?”

“I don’t know. But it’ll be fun to find out, won’t it?” She paused. “How long until we get there?”

“An hour or two.”

“Why that long?” she said.

“We have to go the long way. Be careful.”

She shrugged. “No one’s following us.”

“I have to make sure. I have to do everything right—Nicole is edgy. I have to prove to her that she can trust me.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t make her mad.”

“What’s she going to do? We’re family.”

“I have a surprise.”

“I love surprises.” She paused. “A better surprise than grabbing Sean Rogan?” She laughed. “Oh, I wish I could see Lucy’s face when she finds out!”

“Or when she finds him dead.”

“Exactly. What else? Tell me!”

“Joseph isn’t as bad as I thought.”

“You hate him.”

“He hates me,” Toby pouted. “I don’t know why. I never did anything to him.”

“He’s just jealous.” She kissed his cheek again. “So what did he do that impressed you?”

“He grabbed a fed.”

“Who?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Asshole.”

Toby laughed. He turned off the freeway toward a small, private airport.

“Who are we picking up?” Elise asked, half excited and half apprehensive. “Daddy? Is Daddy here?”

“He won’t come back to the States. He’s paranoid,” Toby said.

She frowned. She missed Jimmy. She had so much fun with him and he taught her the most important lesson
ever
: Never let anyone know your exit strategy.

Ten minutes later they were at a small airstrip. But there wasn’t a plane in sight. Tobias said, “Wait here,” in his serious voice, the one he used when he really wanted Elise to do exactly what he said.

Elise considered following him, but she wasn’t quite sure what was going on.

Then she saw the bitch.

“Well, shit,” she muttered. “Just when I thought it was going to be a good day.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Joseph drove Sean around for over two hours. Sean was numb by the time the truck stopped. He suspected the journey was the most roundabout way to get to where Nicole was holed up. And it worked—at first he tried to keep track of turns and changes in speed, the quality of the roads and the sounds of traffic, but with the dull roar of the undercarriage coupled with the bounce and being restrained, Sean couldn’t figure out where they might be.

There was one interesting event—a phone call that seemed to anger Joseph. All Sean heard was a few words, but Joseph was furious, speeding up after he threw his phone on the dashboard. At least, that’s what it sounded like.

But the last fifteen minutes were the bumpiest, and Sean knew they were on an unpaved road. As the truck slowed, Sean heard nothing but the truck and gravel.

Joseph got out, leaving the truck idling. A minute later he got back in, rolled the truck forward a hundred feet, then got out. A gate. He wasn’t surprised. Texas was a huge state with large chunks of property, vast spaces, private roads.

He wished he had his watch. It would be much easier if he didn’t have to write code on the fly. He could do it—but it would make the entire situation more difficult and he’d risk getting caught. Fortunately, Kate was monitoring the FBI’s asset forfeiture account. As soon as she saw him go in—as soon as he attempted to get in—she’d be all over it.

It would almost be funny—if his life weren’t in danger. Ten years ago when he was hacking into a bank he did everything in his power
not
to be caught by the feds. Now he needed to make sure they could not only trace his computer, but do it in real time.

They drove another five minutes—a long, gravel road that twisted around and slightly down. By the time the truck stopped and Joseph cut the ignition, Sean’s body was covered in bruises and he had a splitting headache.

Joseph got out of the truck and spoke to someone. Sean couldn’t hear what they were saying, his ears were still ringing. A minute later, the door opened, the bench seat was pushed up, and two sets of hands reached in and pulled Sean out. His hands bent awkwardly and he grunted in pain.

He was dropped to the rocky ground and someone cut the zip-ties.

“Get up,” Joseph said.

Sean reached up and took the bag off his head. His eyes slammed shut in the brightness. He had little feeling in his hands and feet. He tried to stand, staggered, and fell.

Joseph swore under his breath and said, “Lyle, grab one arm, I’ll get the other.”

They roughly dragged Sean across the gravel road. He tried to kick himself into a standing position, but his legs were like noodles, the pins and pricks burning inside. His arm that had been cut during Kane’s rescue throbbed and dripped blood as the remaining stitches tore.

He cried out when a sharp rock hit the small of his back. “Stop!”

They dropped him and Sean rolled over to his knees. He took a couple of deep breaths and saw a railing and porch stairs. He crawled to the stairs, pulled himself up, and used the railing as a crutch. His numb muscles slowly stretched as the blood circulated. He surveyed his surroundings. The terrain and hills told him he was west or northwest of San Antonio. Because they were in a valley, he couldn’t see much around him, but to the northwest there were scraggly peaks. He didn’t know the geography of Texas well enough to figure out exactly where he was, but he’d guess between fifty and eighty miles outside the city.

He spotted two armed guards on the porch—they weren’t trying to stay hidden—but there were others moving just outside his vision. How many people did Rollins have working for her? Four who kidnapped him, Joseph, Lyle, who else? The two on the porch had the same look as the gangbangers at Vasco Trejo’s compound three months ago. Young men with angry, dead eyes.

If this place was anything like Trejo’s compound, then there would be a minimum of eight roaming guards. Inside, it would only be the inner circle. The elite. Joseph Contreras. Nicole Rollins. Tobias.

Joseph whispered something to Lyle, who ran over to the truck and drove off. Joseph pushed Sean into the house.

Sean realized he was in over his head when he stepped inside the large, sparsely furnished house. It was a sprawling two-story cabin-like home with two staircases and large windows showcasing the vast, dry landscape. He wasn’t getting out of here without help.

And he had no idea if he could clue Kate into where he was—or if he did, whether reinforcements would get here in time.