Page 4

CHAPTER 3

Maybe Cartwright had a point, and Nova was making bad decisions? Because she’d all but put her foot in her mouth in Hawk’s office — stressing over her current situation when Emery was sitting on a homicide from a possible drug trafficking ring. And all in front of Cooper and his team.

Nova was definitely making poor choices.

She glanced in her rearview as Cooper parked one of Brotherhood trucks behind her rental at the crime scene. She wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse that they’d driven her vehicle to the meeting, but it had given her a few moments reprieve when Hawk had suggested Cooper take one of the Brotherhood vehicles in case something crept up and they had to separate later.

Though, glancing at Cooper’s pinched mouth and narrowed eyes, Nova was edging more toward it being a curse. He hadn’t said a word since she’d asked him to help search the scene with Whiskey. Not that she was surprised. He’d obviously thought her frustration at being reassigned reflected directly on their relationship. That being stationed on the Big Island hadn’t been part of her long-term plan.

That he hadn’t been part of her long-term plan.

Which couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Sure, having the last ten years of her life essentially erased wasn’t great, but what had scared her more was the instant punch of relief she’d felt the moment Cartwright had told her she was staying. How she’d been more preoccupied with the thought of her and Cooper getting a chance to see where their relationship was headed than she was with her status as a DEA agent circling the drain.

That maybe the life she really wanted wasn’t the one Tate had carved out for her.

A misunderstanding she’d clear up later, after she’d picked her shattered career off the ground and attempted to piece it back together. Which started with determining if this was a DEA kind of case or something local law could handle on their own.

Cooper moved in behind her, Whiskey alert at his side. He gave the canine some slack, talking quietly to her before she sniffed at the ground, staying far enough back it was apparent Nova was in charge.

She’d have to thank him for that. For having her six even when he probably thought she didn’t care. That she hadn’t spent the past few weeks falling dangerously in love with him.

Not love. Or was it?

Nova didn’t really know — hadn’t ever considered herself in love before, so this never-ending sensation of always being on the edge of a cliff was new.

Not that she had time to delve into the thoughts as she followed after Emery, frowning when some guy stopped the other woman, scowling in Nova’s direction before yelling something that sounded like, “Just fucking great,” before storming off, still glaring at Nova.

She studied the man for a few moments, noting his pinched lips and the light sheen of sweat along his forehead. Not from the temperature. This looked more like nervous tension, especially with the way he kept shifting his gaze toward her, his left hand twitching against his thigh before he pulled out his cell — started talking to someone on the other end as he turned and disappeared around the corner of the building.

Emery sighed at Nova’s frown as they met at the entrance. “Ignore Simmons. He’s an ass and never thinks it’s the right time to call in the DEA. Though, he’s been better since that guy, Paulin, arrived. Boy’s Club mentality I assume. Did I hear your boss correctly and you know Paulin?”

Nova snorted, doing her best to ignore the fact Emery had heard far more than that. “It’s been ten years, but yeah. I’m kinda hoping he’s changed.”

“I’m betting he hasn’t.” Emery waved Nova through. “I’ll go check on Simmons — remind him to play nice. But in case it’s not obvious, go down this hall then into the next room on the right. Just watch your step. Construction on this place stalled when the investor’s money ran out, and it’s been sitting partially finished since. There have been a few trespassing calls recently, so they must have hired the security company to keep an eye on it until they figured out their next move. We’ll know more once the owner arrives in a few hours from O’ahu. I’ll be right back.”

She headed out the door, Flint tagging along. Nova wasn’t sure what arrangement the man had with Emery’s boss in order to shadow her, and frankly, she didn’t care. Especially if this was cartel related. Which was part of the reason she’d asked Cooper to join them. Sure, Whiskey was a trained drug dog — had spent years working narcotic cases while Cooper was with the Tactical Law Enforcement Team, or TACLET for short. But Nova would be lying if she didn’t admit part of her had wanted him there. Not just for added security but to know someone she trusted had her back. Or was it her side?

She glanced at Cooper when the man stopped at the threshold, looking so damn confident and calm it eased the fluttery sensation in the pit of Nova’s stomach. Not from the case but him. Thinking that she might have ruined whatever chance they’d had before it had really begun.

Which wasn’t what she should be focused on in the middle of a crime scene.

A deep breath and a pep talk not to screw up this assignment, and she was off. Making her way down the hallway — avoiding the bits of lumber and drywall littering the floor — before reaching the junction and turning right. A generator hummed in the next room, powering what looked like a floodlight filling the area in an overly white glow.

Nova took a moment to study the surroundings — make a mental note of the layout — before stepping across the threshold and stopping. Freezing, really, because the scene…

It wasn’t just close to the photos of Tate’s, it was a damn replica. The man splayed out in the same position, one arm extended above his head. Gun still clenched against his palm. Blood pooled around his head and torso, a pair of vacant eyes staring endlessly toward her, an obvious bullet wound between them. Even his appearance was similar. Mature. Lean. With a dusting of white hair at the temples. For a moment, she would have sworn she was staring at Tate’s face.

Sweat beaded her upper lip and dampened her palms. Had they jacked up the heat? Turned that spotlight directly on her? Her chest squeezed so tight she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but stare at those unseeing eyes. Black dots flitted across her vision, dimming the edges until she was sure she’d pass out.

“Nova?”

Cooper’s voice snapped her back just enough that she was able to tear her gaze away — turn slightly. Gasp in a quick breath. Not that it helped as those dots swam across her vision again, threatening to drop her to the floor as a series of shivers raked through her.

“Shit.”

Cooper’s strong arms tugged her against his massive chest a moment later, his lips feathering against her ear.

“Easy, sweetheart. Just try to match my breathing. In… hold. Now out.” Cooper huffed. “Not enough, try again. In. Deep. Now, hold it for a second. And out.”

He repeated the words a few times until her lungs managed to do more than hiccup, and those dots eased. Not fully, but enough she probably wouldn’t face plant in the middle of the crime scene. Embarrass herself even more.

Nova closed her eyes, wondering how she’d fallen so far, so fast — if she had even a hope of ever impressing her boss — before blinking away the remaining fuzziness. Giving Cooper’s arm a pat.

He shook his head, his lips still caressing her ear. “Two more breaths before I’ll be convinced you won’t kiss the floor the second I let go.”

She snorted. Damn she was crazy about him.

Cooper released her after she’d taken those two breaths, glancing at the dead body then back to her once she’d turned — met his gaze. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but maybe you should actually take that leave you spent investigating. I’m sure Cartwright would agree.”

“Cartwright told me to impress him. Admitting I’d made a mistake — in the field, no less — won’t do me any favors.” She waved off his frown. “It was just a momentary lapse.”

“Nova. You showed me the photos, and this is exactly how they found Tate. What I suspect has been triggering all those nightmares you’ve been having.”

She swallowed. Hard. “I’m okay.”

“You’re really not. I’d be more worried if you were. But I can tell by the way you’re scrunching up your nose and looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind that no amount of reasoning will sway you so…” He motioned toward the adjoining room. “The drug lab’s in there. Maybe focus on that, and leave the dead guy to Emery.”

She nodded. Apparently way too fast to be convincing because he shook his head, stepping over to block the guard’s face — break that invisible link tethering her to the scene. She exhaled, smiling her thanks as she shuffled sideways, keeping her back to the corpse as she walked into the next room.

“Damn.” She glanced at Cooper over her shoulder. “Coop? You’ll have to keep Whiskey clear. There’s way too much loose powder scattered around inside to chance it.”

Cooper shouldered up behind her, his chest pressing against her back — grounding her. “What the hell did they do, use it as confetti?”

“Thinking our security guard stumbled upon the scene while our perps were out doing god knows what, grabbed that open bag then tried to run but didn’t get too far before he had to drop it. Or maybe our drug runners are just nuts. How would you feel about scouting the rest of the building and the grounds? See if there’s another stash someplace?”

“Your wish, sweetheart…” He cursed as soon as the endearment slipped out. What she guessed was just habit. “You okay here on your own?”

“Most of the drug labs I go into still have cartel inside so, yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“You said that on purpose. Just humor me, and hang here until I get back.”

“Glad you’re not being a mother hen. Besides, Emery’s here. But Coop…” She smiled at him. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

He shook his head but took off, disappearing down the hallway as Emery moved in beside Nova.

The other woman scanned the room. “Looks like we’ve got a few bricks and what’s left of that open one lying on the floor. Not definitive proof there’s a cartel involved, but…”

“Best to err on the side of caution, yeah?”

“My thoughts exactly.” Emery nodded at the bricks. “If this is cartel related, any thoughts on where you think it might be coming from?”

Nova stayed in the doorway, wishing she’d thought to bring some sort of protection. “Hard to say. We’ve got a pretty extensive database of various chemical makeups. That might pinpoint a location if we’ve dealt with the cartel before.”

“If you had to guess?”

Nova chuckled. “I’m a bit biased and partial to Columbia. Cocaine is still their drug of choice. But see those other bags? If that isn’t fentanyl, I’ll give Whiskey a French kiss.”

Emery snorted. “So, someone’s cutting it after it arrives.”

“Appears that way, which is common. The big question is how much fentanyl are they using? Just enough to increase the high and dependency? Or do they have another agenda. None of which we’ll know until we get it analyzed because it looks like those other bricks have been rewrapped, which suggests they’ve already been cut. Regardless, this is definitely going to need my brand of help.” Nova eased over and nudged Emery. “If you’re still okay working with me?”

“This might be the first time in my career I actually enjoy an interagency case.”

“I’m sure I’ll find a way to have you questioning that before the assignment’s over. But in the meantime, I’d like to run everything through your department. While I haven’t seen this satellite office, I doubt it has the kind of facilities we’ll need to process everything. And I’d rather not have all this evidence crossing the ocean to O’ahu.”

“Not a problem. I’ll call my boss — let him know we’ll be working with you on this. Paulin, too, I guess.”

“Not if I can help it.” Nova coughed. “Did I say that out loud?”

Emery grinned. “Definitely a perfect match. I’ll have CSI bag everything as soon as the proper protective gear arrives. You coming?”

“I realize I can’t really scout around, but I’d like to take a few photos of those bags while I’m waiting for Cooper to report back. Even if it’s just from the doorway.”

“Right. He’s here on official business only.”

“Not you, too?”

“All I’m going to say is that Cooper looks at you the way I look at Flint.” She turned then stopped and reached into her pocket before handing Nova a mask and some gloves and booties. “This goes against the voice in my head because this isn’t enough protection for long term exposure. But they’ll work in a pinch if you only take a quick peak in there. And we both know you’re going to poke around while you’re waiting for Cooper. Just keep it short and don’t actually touch any powder.”

Nova put them on, waiting until Emery had walked off before carefully picking her way across the floor to the bricks someone had obviously dropped during their escape. What had likely been a much larger shipment.

She crouched low, using the tip of a pen to shift the bundles in order to get a better look without actually touching them. See if she recognized the way they’d been batched. Not that it would be definitive proof, but after slogging it with drug lords for over a decade, she’d dealt with most of the major players. And they all had a signature of sorts.

The fact they’d used a single piece of duct tape to hold the plastic wrap didn’t give many clues — narrow it down that much. She flipped it over, studying how they’d folded the wrap when a thin strip of blue caught her attention. What resembled the remnants of tape.

Leaning in closer confirmed it was definitely tape, the inside edge jagged where it had been torn off. Which, in itself, was an anomaly. From her experience, drug dealers didn’t used colored tape or anything else that would make their batches stand out — give the DEA a means of tracking them. In fact, it looked more like the kind she wrapped around bricks before placing them in evidence.

A shiver wove down her spine, more than a few scenarios bouncing around inside her head. None of which were good.

On a whim she rose and started looking around the room. While she had no idea when the tape had been removed, the torn edge had bits of powder stuck to the glue, which suggested the dealers might have ripped it off inside the room — when they’d been planning on cutting more batches before getting interrupted.

A few minutes of searching one side didn’t boost her confidence — had Cartwright’s words repeating inside her head. Scouring the other half and finding nothing only reinforced all the doubts her boss had instilled in the ten minutes he’d been onscreen.

She moved into the other room, wishing she could do as Cooper had suggested and leave the corpse to Emery, but something about the way the body was positioned was nagging at her. Like a shadow that hadn’t quite taken shape, yet. She removed the protection Emery had given her, leaving it at the edge of the doorway then rummaged through the guard’s pockets, cursing when she came up empty.

Until she glanced at his hand — the one fisted at his side, a scrap of blue peeking out from between his fingers.

Nova checked to ensure the hallway was clear before using the hem of her shirt to pry the guard’s fingers apart without leaving any kind of traceable evidence, in case this was one of those mistakes Cartwright had mentioned. The kind that suggested her inner voice had taken a dive off the deep end. Seeing a long strip of balled up tape had her inhaling. Checking her six, again, before easing the length free then slowly unwrapping it.

Martin. Bo…

The rest had been smeared but seeing her name was all she needed to know her gut was right.

Sensing a flicker of movement in the hallway got her onto her feet in record time, that tape shoved into her pocket. She turned, watching the far wall when a shadow wavered on the drywall. What looked like the silhouette of a man. She made a dash for the corridor, skidding to a halt at the threshold but the hallway was empty, not even the echo of footsteps lingering in the air.

Had she imagined it? A byproduct of the stress? Of suspecting she was being played by her own agency? Or had she lost her edge? Somehow missed some perp hiding in the shadows.

Maybe Cooper was right, and she needed to take some time off because she couldn’t help but feel as if she was chasing ghosts.

Or maybe just Tate’s.

She looked back at the corpse, wondering if she should continue her search, when her phone rang. And she bet her ass she knew who was on the other line.

“Martin.”

“Hello, Nova.”

God, she hated being right. “Dick. Or do you prefer Richard these days?”

Paulin snorted. “Guess I don’t need to ask if you’ve changed.”

“From what I’ve heard, me either. I thought you were busy closing a case with ATF?”

“We finished early, and I got a lift back. Which is why I’m calling. Detective Simmons rang and said you were messing with my crime scene.”

“If by messing with you mean investigating, then yes. I assume Cartwright called you.”

“He did.” Paulin paused, and Nova knew the bastard was enjoying the payback. Probably smiling and checking his look in the mirror as he kept her waiting. “He seems to think you might have lost your edge since Tate was killed. Any truth to that?”

Nova snorted. “None. Which I suspect is the real reason Simmons called you and why you’re calling me now, while I’m still on scene.”

“And why would it matter that you’re still on scene?”

“It wouldn’t… Unless you were concerned I might have found something I shouldn’t have. Something that suggests this isn’t a local gang trying to bust into the cocaine business.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something innocuous like a piece of tape.”

Paulin sighed, nothing but his heavy breathing sounding over the phone for several moments before he cleared his throat. “This has all gone too far. I can’t do it anymore.”

Nova froze, pulling her cell away and glancing at it in case she’d imagined getting the call. “What’s gone too far?”

“Everything. The drugs. The orders… Tate’s death.”

“Tate’s death? What has this got to do with Tate’s death?”

“You know I can’t discuss actual details over an open line. Jesus, Nova. We need to do this in person… shit…” The sound changed as if he’d placed the cell against his chest for a second. Maybe gathered his nerve. “I can’t believe it’s come to this. But once Tate was murdered, I knew it was only a matter of time before I was next in line.”

“How can you be the next in line if Moody’s… Damn. Are you saying Eric Moody took the fall for Tate’s death? That someone else actually killed him?”

“I’m saying there’re questions you’re not asking. Connections you’re not making. And they’re the kind that will come back and bite you in the ass if you don’t figure it out. Quickly. Because if my hunch is right, I’m not the only loose end.”

Nova shook her head, scanning the hallway before edging closer to the door. “Look, Richard, whatever you’ve gotten yourself into, I can help.”

Paulin grunted. “Why the hell do you think I’m calling? It’s not because of your scintillating conversation. I need an out.”

“Okay, tell me when and where, and I’ll bring Emery and?—”

“No. No police. No Brotherhood Protectors. Hell, no boyfriends. Just my shit luck you’re the only one I can trust, seeing as you were always too much of a tight ass to be bought.”

Nova ignored the dig, scanning the hallway, again. “You can trust Emery, she’s?—”

“A cop. And I know, for a fact, they’re not all clean.”

He knew they weren’t all clean? Was that his way of suggesting Simmons was dirty? Or was it someone higher up? Maybe Simmons’ boss?

Paulin breathed into the phone. “Look, I know what you’re thinking. That maybe this is just a ruse to set you up. And I get it. But… I’d also like to think you’re a good judge of character, and you know I’d have to be pretty fucking desperate in order to ask for your help. But it’s your choice. You can either agree to meet me — alone — and I’ll show you exactly what you’re up against. Files I only have access to on this laptop. Connections that were likely the reason Tate was killed. Or I deep six everything and disappear. Because I’m out. You decide whether that’s with you helping me get official protection, or in a damn cargo ship. But I’m gone by sunrise.”

Nova paused when Cooper walked into the room, stopping short when he realized she was on the phone. She held up one finger, distancing herself a bit more. “When and where?”

He exhaled, sounding more than a bit relieved. “The office. Thirty minutes.”

“I’ll be there.”

Nova lowered her cell as the line cut off, rerunning everything Richard had said. While she knew there was a chance the man was conning her, she just didn’t buy it. Not with how his voice had been slightly higher than she remembered. Or how he’d talked a bit too fast at times. As if he was worried he’d lose his nerve before he’d gotten all the words out.

Regardless, if there was a chance someone else was involved in Tate’s death and Paulin had the proof, it was worth the risk.

Cooper edged closer. “Everything okay?”

She feigned a smile, pocketing her phone. “That was Paulin. He wants me to meet him at the office. Go over a few things.”

Either her boss had exaggerated about her gifted ability to lie, or Cooper simply saw through her because he frowned. “Paulin wants to see you now? Isn’t he on O’ahu?”

“I guess he caught a private flight back. I assume you didn’t find anything?”

His frown deepened at the sudden change in topic. “Nothing. Maybe I should tag along.”

“I think this is one meeting I need to do alone. But I’ll call you when it’s over.” She attempted a more genuine smile. “We should probably talk about a few things.”

“Probably.”

“Then, it’s a date.” She motioned toward the exit. “Thanks for helping. I’ll let Emery know I’ll be checking in later.”

Cooper nodded, following her to her car. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something — offer to come along, again, if her hunch was right — then closed it, watching as she jumped in.

Nova looked up the address on her phone then took one last glance in her rearview. This was it. Her chance to get ahead of whatever cartel was trying to set up shop on the island. But more importantly, to finally get the truth behind Tate’s death. And if Moody hadn’t acted alone, she’d make it her sole mission to hunt down every last person involved.