Page 38 of A Tempting Seduction (Protectors of Jasper Creek #5)
Chapter Twenty-Two
My body clock was completely screwed. Three-thirty in the morning in Los Angeles was six-thirty back home, and sleep wasn't happening. I'd been staring at the ceiling for the past hour, listening to Ruby's steady breathing beside me.
She was finally peaceful. Yesterday had been hell for her. The safety deposit box held the key to bringing down Horace, but there were still so many unknowns.
I slipped out of bed carefully, making sure not to wake her. Ruby needed every minute of rest she could get before we faced whatever today would bring.
I plugged in the cheap hotel coffee maker in the bathroom so it wouldn’t disturb Ruby, and it gurgled to life as I pulled on jeans and a t-shirt.
I wasn't the only one who'd be up this early.
Tennessee time meant the guys would be awake too, probably nursing their own cups of shitty coffee and wondering what could go wrong today.
I started a group text with Jase, Simon, and Roan.
Anyone else up?
Three immediate responses.
Completely unconscious.
Dead to the world over here.
Out like a light.
Smart asses.
Diner downstairs. Ten minutes.
I unlocked and knocked on the adjoining room where Chen was stationed. He opened it a little, still in his boxers. “I'm heading downstairs in five. Ruby's still sleeping. Can you watch her door?”
“Martinez is outside your door. You’re covered.” I nodded.
He smirked at me. “You’re up early, all things considered.”
“I thought Feebies were all discreet,” I grinned.
“We are. I’m only giving you shit.”
I laughed softly. “You’re just jealous.”
Chen shrugged. “You’re probably right. Don’t worry, your girl is covered.” He shut the door.
The diner was exactly what I'd expected from a non-descript hotel. Fluorescent lighting, vinyl booths, and coffee that could strip paint. But it was private, and that's what mattered.
Simon arrived first, his hair still damp from a shower. Jase and Roan followed within minutes, both of them looking like they'd slept about as well as I had.
“So,” I said once we'd all grabbed coffee that tasted like motor oil. “What can go wrong today?”
“You want the short list or the comprehensive breakdown?” Simon asked.
Before any of us could answer, Isaacson appeared at our table. “Mind if I join this strategy session?”
“Chen has a big mouth,” I muttered.
Isaacson shrugged. He didn't wait for permission, just pulled up a chair and signaled the waitress for coffee. “Since it's my operation you're discussing, I figured I should be included.”
I leaned back in the booth. “Your operation that somehow let a kill team get within fifty feet of Ruby two nights ago.” I knew I wasn’t being fair since the kill team had arrived before we had contacted Isaacson, but that’s just the mood I was in.
Isaacson's jaw tightened, but he didn't defend himself. “Fair point. Which is why we're taking extra precautions today.”
“What's the status on Horace?” Jase asked.
“Still in interrogation. We brought him in again last night. He's been in a conference room at the LA FBI headquarters for the past nine hours.”
Simon sat forward. “Does he have his cell phone?”
“He does. The way I saw it, if we’d asked for it, he would have lawyered up.”
“Then bad shit can still happen,” Roan said flatly. “You're giving him access to his entire network while he's supposed to be helping your investigation.”
“He’s not going to be that foolish, he knows he’s under surveillance.” Isaacson rubbed his face. The man looked like he'd aged five years in one night.
“Doesn’t mean he’s not texting. Can your team see his texts?” Jase asked.
“We’re getting everything he’s sending and receiving. This isn’t our first rodeo. It’s just not admissible.”
“That’s got to be killing you,” Simon commented.
The waitress sat down his coffee and Isaacson poured in a quarter cup of sugar.
I almost gagged. “We’re depending on the safety deposit box contents to make our case, not whatever he’s texting right now.
If he says something to me, or one of my subordinates, that changes things. That would be admissible.”
“What about the safety deposit box?” I asked. “Ruby's risking everything to get you those documents. That has to count for something.”
“If what's in there is what we think it is, then yes. It changes everything.”
We spent another hour going through contingencies. Escape routes if the bank was compromised. Backup plans if Horace's people figured out where we were staying. Alternative transportation if the FBI vehicles were made.
By the time we finished, I felt marginally better about the day ahead. Not good, but better.
I headed back upstairs around five thirty, using my key card as quietly as possible.
Martinez gave me a subtle nod from his position in the hallway.
Ruby was still asleep, curled on her side with one hand tucked under her cheek.
Dark circles shadowed her eyes even in sleep, and I could see the tension in her shoulders.
Today would either give her the justice she deserved or bring more heartbreak. Maybe both.
I slipped back into bed and pulled her against me.
She murmured something unintelligible and settled into my arms without being fully awake.
For a few minutes, I let myself pretend we were back in Jasper Creek.
That this was just another morning in my bed, with nothing more complicated ahead of us than deciding what and where to have breakfast.
But pretending wouldn't make it true.
At six thirty, my phone alarm went off. Ruby stirred beside me, her green eyes opening slowly.
“Morning,” she said, her voice thick with sleep.
“Hey, beautiful. Time to get up.”
She stretched against me, and I felt my body respond despite everything on my mind. Three weeks of intimacy with Ruby hadn't dimmed my need for her. If anything, it had gotten stronger.
“How long until we have to leave?”
“Thirty minutes.”
Ruby sat up, running her hands through her auburn hair. “I need coffee. Real coffee, not whatever passes for coffee in this place.”
“After the bank. I promise.”
We dressed together in comfortable silence. Ruby chose a charcoal-gray pencil skirt and an emerald-green blouse that brought out her eyes. Professional but not intimidating. Perfect for what we needed to accomplish.
Ruby watched me check my phone for messages from the team. She seemed to have gotten used to the security measures, the constant vigilance. I hated that this had become normal for her.
“You ready?” I asked.
Ruby squared her shoulders and nodded. “Let's go get the bastard.”
Downstairs, the FBI motorcade was waiting. Five black SUVs with their hazard lights flashing, blocking traffic like they owned the street. Other hotel guests were staring through the windows, probably wondering what kind of criminal or celebrity was staying in their budget establishment.
Isaacson gestured toward the middle vehicle. “Same arrangement as yesterday.”
Ruby and I climbed into the middle SUV, with Isaacson taking the front passenger seat. The driver was a serious-looking agent who didn't bother with introductions.
The ride to the bank took fifty-five minutes. I watched the other SUVs maintain their positions around us, forming a protective box that moved through the city streets.
Ruby stared out the tinted windows, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. I reached over and covered them with one of mine.
“We're almost done,” I said quietly. “After today, we can start figuring out what comes next.”
“What if there's nothing useful in the box?” she asked. “What if my dad was just paranoid and there's nothing that can actually hurt Horace?”
“Then we'll figure something else out. But I don't think that's what we're going to find.”
The First National Bank of Beverly Hills looked exactly like what it was - a place where rich people kept their secrets. Marble columns, bronze fixtures, and enough security cameras to film a movie.
The bank manager, a thin man in an expensive suit, met us at the door. “This is highly unusual,” he said, checking his watch. “We don't typically allow access before normal business hours.”
“Appreciate your cooperation,” Isaacson said, flashing his badge. “We'll try to make this as quick as possible.”
Ruby went through the process of proving her identity. Driver's license, secondary ID, signature verification. The bank manager checked everything twice before finally nodding his approval.
“The safe deposit box can only be accessed by the registered owner, and they are allowed two authorized persons in the vault with them,” he explained. “According to our records, that would be Ms. Miller and...” He consulted his paperwork. “Ford Larson and Agent Aaron Isaacson.”
We followed the manager through a series of security doors, past armed guards and more cameras than a casino. The safe deposit room was a sterile white space lined with numbered boxes.
Ruby's hands shook slightly as she inserted her key. The bank manager used his master key at the same time, and the box slid open with a soft click.
Inside were manila folders, wire transfer documents, and three flash drives with numbers on them. Ruby's father had been thorough in his documentation.
Isaacson's eyes went wide as he read the three sheets of paper with corresponding numbers and the descriptions, dates and names of either recorded or video conversations. “Jesus Christ. If these recordings are authentic...”
“My dad wasn't a liar,” Ruby said firmly. “If he said these were what the conversations were, then they were.”
I recognized some of the names myself. Senators, governors, business leaders who'd been in the news for various scandals over the years. What was worse was that there were some names that were above reproach.
Shit.
If Michael Banks had recorded proof of their involvement in Horace's corruption network, it would bring down more than just a state-wide political machine.