Page 29

TWENTY-FOUR

The Funky Monkey was a low-slung, battered building that had seen better days decades ago.

Neon beer signs flickered in the front window, fighting for space with hand-painted posters advertising live music and two-dollar shots.

The parking lot was mostly dirt and gravel, pockmarked with potholes that glistened under the flickering glow of a rusted streetlamp.

A handful of motorcycles and dented trucks were scattered across the lot.

Ellie’s nose wrinkled. “First the diner, and now this dive. Why can’t this case take us to the Four Seasons?”

Daniel’s lips curved. “Are you a fan of expensive hotels?”

“I’m a fan of clean bathrooms and non-sticky floors.”

Despite the tension coiling in his belly, he laughed and steered his mother’s late-model Honda across the lot to a parking spot near the door.

Marta’s vehicle didn’t have a GPS, which made it untraceable.

They’d taken precaution after precaution before driving out to Briarwood.

No cell phones. No electronics of any kind.

With evidence mounting that there was a mole inside the FBI, Daniel wouldn’t take any chances.

His only method of communication with his team was an ancient flip phone his mother had kept in a kitchen drawer for emergencies—no GPS, no smart features, just basic calls.

He studied Ellie. She looked adorable in a black wig and glasses, selections taken from his mother’s assortment of Halloween costumes.

Her lips were painted a dark red, and she was wearing more eyeliner than he’d known was possible for any one person to wear.

From the way she grimaced at her reflection in the mirror attached to the sun visor, Ellie wasn’t a fan of her look.

She rubbed her front teeth with a finger. “This lipstick is getting everywhere.”

“You look beautiful.”

She glanced at him and smiled. “You might need to have your eyes checked, Perez.” Ellie waved a finger in front of her face. “Don’t think this is a look you’ll ever see again. I’m wearing enough makeup to be in a Vegas show.”

“It’s not the makeup. Or the wig.” He brushed a finger along her jaw. “It’s you.”

She blushed, which only made the heavy rouge on her cheeks look even more dramatic. Ellie leaned closer and then stopped. “Can’t kiss you. Lipstick.”

“We’re supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, remember?” He lightly brushed her lips with his.

She pulled back and then poked him in the chest. “No more of that. We’re on business.”

“Right.” Daniel reluctantly released her and then exited the vehicle. His gaze swept the parking lot, an instinctive reaction more than out of necessity. A light drizzle had started, and it peppered his shoulders as he moved around the car to open Ellie’s door.

She rose gracefully. Her blouse was deep red and long enough to cover the holster nestled at the small of her back.

Ellie had traded James’s Glock for one from Daniel’s personal collection.

Her jeans were worn and hugged her long legs down to her sensible boots.

She’d have no trouble fitting in at a small-town bar.

Daniel settled his cowboy hat on his head and led Ellie to the front door.

The interior was dim, thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of stale beer.

Country music blasted from speakers overhead.

Monday night was a slow evening, if the number of patrons was any sign.

A few men were gathered around the bar, nursing drinks and watching the NBA playoffs on a large-screen television, while another small group played pool in the corner.

One lone couple swayed on the scarred and worn dance floor.

“I don’t see Tyler,” Ellie murmured. “Maybe he’s not working tonight?”

“I suppose, but it’s his place. In my experience, most bar owners like to keep an eye on their establishments.”

She nodded, and together, they crossed the room, peanut shells crunching under their boots as they went.

Ellie slipped onto a stool at the bar and signaled the heavyset blonde tending drinks.

The bartender’s expression was friendly, her movements smooth and unhurried as she wiped down the bar with a white cloth.

“What can I get you, honey?” Her gaze traveled between Ellie and Daniel with a flicker of curiosity, but there was no tension in her stance. Just a steady watchfulness that said she’d seen it all.

“Two Cokes, please,” Ellie said with a practiced smile. “Is Tyler in tonight? I’m an old friend of his, and I’d love to say hello.”

The woman paused for a fraction of a second, then tipped her head slightly.

“Oh, you’re an old friend?” Her voice was light, as if she was in on the game, but didn’t care to call it out.

Probably thought Ellie was an ex. “Ty’s in the back, working on the books.

I’ll let him know you’re here.” Her hand paused on the rag, blue eyes cool and curious. “What should I tell him your name is?”

Ellie’s smile didn’t waver, not for a heartbeat. “Elizabeth. He’ll know who I am.”

The woman’s smile was small and understanding.

She nodded once and moved down a hallway.

Daniel sipped his soda, leaning against the bar casually to eye the patrons.

Everyone seemed to know each other. Locals.

No sign of any trouble. Still, his gut twisted uncomfortably.

Especially when one of the men playing pool stared him down.

“Relax, Perez.” Ellie’s hand landed on his arm. Her voice was pitched low, although no one could likely hear her over the country music. “People like these can smell a cop from a mile away. You’re giving off undercover vibes.”

He shifted his weight to release the pressure on his injury. The swelling had gone down, but the thing still ached something fierce. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we are undercover.”

She chuckled. “Yes, but we’re not interested in arresting the locals. You’re making them nervous. Do I have to kiss you again?”

Daniel didn’t have time to reply before the bartender returned. She tossed a thumb over her shoulder. “Y’all head on back. The office is at the end of the hall, past the bathrooms.”

“Great.” Ellie slipped away from the bar. “Thanks.”

Together, they entered the dimly lit hallway.

It was like something out of a horror movie.

Soft padded walls. Bathroom to the left.

An exit sign hanging crooked over a door to the right, and a broken neon light illuminating the sticky floor.

Inexplicably, the scent of beer hung heavier back here than it had in the bar.

Despite Ellie’s admonishment to play it cool, Daniel could feel his anxiety ratcheting up.

Ellie showed no sign of tension in either her walk or the easy knock she placed on the closed office door.

“Enter.”

Ellie glanced at Daniel, and he gave a sharp nod to show he was ready.

He sucked in a breath as she twisted the knob and the door swung open, revealing a shockingly neat office.

An expensive laptop sat in the center of an oak desk covered in glass.

Windows overlooked the back of the property, and a door on the opposite side probably served as a private entrance.

Tyler Mitchell stood near a whirling printer.

He was dressed casually in a checkered button-down and dark jeans.

A hefty belt buckle adorned his waist and rolled-up sleeves revealed a pattern of tattoos.

Though his gaze flickered over Daniel briefly, it quickly settled on Ellie.

The smile that followed was charming. Immediate.

"Elizabeth, is it? I'm sorry, darlin', but I'm not sure I remember you. Have we met before?”

The hair rose on Daniel’s arms. He couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t rationalize it, but something about Tyler felt off. A gut instinct honed from years of working law enforcement.

If Ellie noticed the same, it didn’t show in her expression. She placed her hands on the back of a visitor’s chair. “No, Tyler, we’ve never met. But we have a common friend.” Her gaze locked with his. “Lena.”

His brow furrowed in mock confusion as he pulled out his desk chair and sat down, setting the papers from the printer on his closed laptop.

“Lena?” He puffed out a breath. “I haven’t thought about her in ages.

We were friends, but it was a long time ago.

” His charming smile never wavered. “How do you know Lena?”

Ellie raised a brow. “Let’s cut to the chase, Tyler. You and Lena were high school sweethearts. I know that because she told me herself. I’m Elizabeth Conway, and I believe you know exactly who I am.”

Faster than Daniel could blink, Tyler whipped out a gun from underneath his desk and pointed it at Ellie.

Instinct and training sent Daniel’s hand moving toward the gun holstered at his hip, but Tyler redirected his weapon toward Daniel.

“Don’t do it, man. I’ve won shooting competitions thirteen years in a row. I’ll put you on the ground before you can draw your weapon and have time to spare to shoot her too.”

There was a thread of confidence in his tone, and Daniel instinctively knew it wasn’t bravado. He froze. His heart thundered against his chest as the gun swung back to Ellie.

She raised her hands in the classic sign of surrender. “There’s no need to shoot anyone. We aren’t here to hurt you.”

Tyler’s expression was hard. “Agent Elizabeth Conway is dead. So I don’t think I’ll take your word on anything. In fact, I’d like to have one good reason I shouldn’t just shoot you right now and save myself the risk of finding out just what you plan to do.”