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It was only then that Mike became aware of things outside the woman in his arms and Alvero grinning like a fool above them.
Was he hearing somebody close by crying and whining like a little bitch?
A smile finally broke out on his face. “I take it Galici hurt himself when he landed?”
Alvero gave Joe a hand up, then extended the other to Mike who made it to his feet and quickly claimed his woman again with an arm around her waist, pulling her snug to his side.
She wasn’t the least bit unsteady, and didn’t that speak volumes about the bad-ass agent she was. She’d been most likely concussed, drugged and assaulted, but didn’t need support of any kind.
Right. Fuck that. Mike was going to be glued to her for days, if not weeks.
Alvero answered. “He’s got glass in his ass, and he fractured his right tibia in two places if the odd bend to his leg is any indication, but,” he turned to Mason, “can we use that to our advantage while we question him?”
Right. They still needed confirmation as to who was behind the drug operation and the master plan to kill Joe.
“Let me.” Joe narrowed her eyes, extricating herself from Mike’s hold with difficulty. Her waitress shoes crunched over to where the perp lay on the ground. “I already know who’s behind all this,” she told the writhing, blubbering man. “But for the record, why don’t you tell us, so we have it from the horse’s mouth. I don’t want to fuck up, and not have all the evidence we need to screw him to the wall.”
“He’ll…he’ll kill me,” Galici whined.
“Maybe. But just how much pain do you think you can handle if you hold out?” She raised her foot and held it above his splintered leg.
“No! Please! Don’t.”
Yeah. Galici was a wimp. Mike could see the minute he gave in.
“It’s your boss who’s behind this,” Galici whimpered.
“Name,” Mason barked.
“Lester. Lester Gavin. Chief of Operations for the DEA out of Nevada. He’s been taking his cut of our action and from a lot of other locations for a bunch of years, finding suppliers and orchestrating shipping of product all over the country. But she,” he sneered up at Joe, “was getting too close, so he wanted her gone.”
Mike growled, but Joe didn’t seem like she was letting up any time soon.
How the hell she could balance on one foot for so long after a head injury and propofol, was beyond Mike’s comprehension, and a testament to her strength.
“Keep talking,” she urged.
“We were supposed to…kill you,” he continued while looking up at her. “But before we did, earlier, when we brought you in unconscious, we put your prints all over everything here to make it look like you were the one cooking up the dope.”
Bastard. Mike saw red. Lester would go down for this.
“That’s good enough for now,” Joe stated with a satisfied nod before she lowered her foot. “Thanks, Anthony.” She turned, walked over, and tucked herself back into Mike’s embrace. She glanced at Mason from the safety of Mike’s side. “Uh, boss man? Do we have everything we need?”
The chief laughed and shook his head. “Absolutely not. Far from it. We’ll want a full debrief from you, then we need to hatch a plan to catch your boss red-handed.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “But if you two need some time…”
Joe nodded enthusiastically and opened her mouth to speak, but Mike cut her off.
“Five minutes, tops. While the team cleans up. Then she’s yours.”
Mason nodded skeptically. “Sure Mike. If you say so.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Joelle didn’t know what it was that Mike was going to say to her as they walked into the woods away from the team, but she knew what was screaming to come out of her mouth. During her hour-long hell while listening to Baby Shark, she’d come to a conclusion.
She wasn’t just infatuated with Mike Carlese. She loved the hell out of him.
Joe didn’t exactly know how or when it had happened, but being faced with possible death had opened her eyes. The wily SWAT-cop had snuck in under her normal defenses and blown her bullshit ‘I’m-okay-being-solitary’ status to smithereens. And now she wanted to shout it to the world. Not only did she adore the man, she wanted to be in his life. Permanently. With all the bells and whistles that came with that.