Page 98 of Sticks and Stones (FBI Romance/Thriller #65)

“What kind of a package?” he asked.

Cash held up his hands. It was maybe this big,” he said, showing them.

So no bigger than a foot-by-foot box.

That would hold quite a few balloons of drugs to be distributed to three mules.

“What happened next?” Ethan asked, as he held Cash against the wall.

“He closed the trunk and went back into the bar. They didn’t know I was there, and I didn’t ask shit. I knew better. Renegade is sick.”

Oh, they knew.

Corbin knew now too.

Out of rage, Gene grabbed him by the jaw.

“Did you know they broke his teeth, and they hurt his jaw by forcing their foul ass dicks down his throat?” he asked, slamming him against the wall again and again.

It put a dent in the wall.

He whimpered.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

Ethan switched back over, trying to keep Cash off his toes. Luckily for him, there was a room full of Feds out there, so they couldn’t hurt the man.

Oh, they could scare him, but he’d walk out of here and it wasn’t fair.

Corbin had to crawl for his life.

“Where did he meet this piece of shit?” he asked. “Where did he meet the seller?”

Cash whimpered.

“I’m not one hundred percent sure. All I know is he offered him money. Big money. He told Renegade it was a cash grab. He’d make sure he stayed safe, and no one would be able to touch him.”

Gene looked at his partner.

He’d gotten a call blowing Corbin’s cover, and now this person promised protection?

He didn’t like this.

Why?

It felt like a cop had betrayed Corbin. It had to be someone who knew he’d gone undercover, and that list was very short.

Kip Rivett

Payton Eastcott

Drake Herman—the commissioner.

Captain Oliver Guy

Oh, and if Gene found out it was one of them, he was going to burn this city to the ground.

Bet.

On.

It.

“I’d keep talking,” Ethan admitted. “So someone was going to protect him if he helped him out. Someone who offered them money.”

He nodded.

“Renegade runs his mouth when he’s drunk or high. He had a lot of beer that night. He was telling everyone that the guy had been dirt poor, and now, he was filthy rich. Now, he could hobnob with the wealthy, and not be anyone’s slave.”

Shit.

They’d run Kip and Payton’s financials when they worked that one case, but neither was rich.

They were comfortable, specifically Kip, since his wife had been an ME.

A part of him wanted to remove them from the list, but they’d found them at the café, and said the commissioner wanted them here.

Could that be a lie?

Did they miss something?

Ethan pushed the wooden table leg up, precariously pressing on the man’s junk.

It kept him talking.

“Renegade was mostly in it for the fucking. The guy let them use the men for a few days before they were passed off as long as they didn’t damage the merchandise. He kept telling his guys that, but the night the cop was in, he told them to have fun.”

Gene roared in anger, and Cash pissed himself.

“Please,” he said.

Oh, there was no please.

Ethan got him to focus on him, as he avoided the puddle of piss between the man’s legs on the floor.

“Tell us about the buyer. Renegade said he drove a Benz,” he said.

Cash didn’t hesitate. If Renegade wasn’t in there, and they knew details, that told him everything he needed to know.

They caught him.

“That’s the car that backed into the alley,” he admitted. “I remember thinking that Renegade doesn’t know anyone with that kind of money.”

Gene needed more.

“If you don’t tell us everything you know, you’re going where they are,” he said. “They’re at Camp Concrete in Gitmo,” he said. “If you don’t give me something I can use, you’re joining them.”

He was shaking.

“I don’t know much more. I never saw the guy! He never got out!”

Gene stared at him.

“Think,” he said. “We know it’s a white Benz. What’s the plate number?”

The man looked confused.

“It’s not white,” he said. “It’s silver, and it has a little disco ball hanging from the rearview mirror. That’s all I know!”

The second he saw it, Ethan looked at Gene.

“Uh-oh,” he said.

Gene glanced over when his partner said that.

“What?” he asked.

He slapped Gene on the arm.

“We saw a silver Benz…”

Now, Gene placed it. They absolutely had seen it, and it was in that parking lot.

That’s when they dropped him, and went to the door to tell Greyson.

The Commissioner’s car.

It made sense.

“Grey,” Gene said. “We know who it is. Can you get your agents to bring him in-house, and have Gabe get him transferred?”

He could do that.

“Gitmo?” he asked.

Both Feds nodded.

From behind them, Cash began crying and begging for his life when he overheard the man.

“Who is it?” he asked as they all ignored the man on the floor.

“The commissioner.”

Greyson lifted a brow.

Well, he hadn’t been expecting that.

“What?”

“We went to see the commissioner today because he demanded us to get our asses there. He wanted an update.”

Yeah, so he’d know where they were with the case, or because his thugs missed a pickup time that morning.

“When we arrived, the lot was empty since it was the weekend. In his reserved spot was the car that Cash just described. It makes sense because this piece of shit said that someone called Renegade before Corbin showed up. Someone knew Corbin was a cop, and burned his cover.”

Greyson shook his head.

That was shitty.

“A cop burning a cop? That’s pretty low.”

Yes, yes, it was.

Gene was to the point.

“We need you to keep this quiet in here. We’re going to go out the back and head toward the commissioner’s office. He might still be in there. Can you hold off leaving for a few minutes?”

He nodded.

“Absolutely. I’ll update Gabe. You’re going to need warrants.”

They would.

Ethan reminded them.

“Yeah, we can’t let the two cops down the street see us leave. If they inadvertently tell Drake Herman that we’re leaving, he might spook,” Blackhawk said.

He was right.

Greyson waved them off.

“Go. I’ve got this. We’ll sit our new friends down, and we’ll wait for your text.”

Gene looked around at the roomful of Feds watching over the men who were being arrested, and keeping the others from leaving.

“Who has a vehicle in the alley?”

One of the Feds raised his hand.

“I need your ride,” Gene said.

He tossed him Ethan’s keys.

“Drive this back to the office, and we’ll meet you there. Oh, and for god’s sake. Be careful. That’s his baby,” he said, pointing at Ethan.

He wasn’t wrong.

Only, Gene was technically his baby.

Together, they headed out the back, the way Ethan and Greyson had come in. Once there, they got in, and drove away, heading away from the two cops at the end of the alley.

Since it was a blacked-out ride, they wouldn’t know who left.

All the way there, Gene was seething.

This was when Ethan had to talk him down. Anger was one thing, but that blood red rage was something else.

“You can’t hurt him. We have to bring him in without a scratch on him. He’ll go down for this, but only if you keep your temper in check.”

Oh, he was aware.

“What they did to Corbin, and what the man started that caused that…”

He put his hand on his leg.

“I know,” he said, as Gene navigated the slick streets.

Gene tried to calm himself down.

“I’ll do the job, but I’m definitely going to need a vacation. That’s for damn sure.”

Oh, and they’d get it.

The trek to the city council building didn’t take long, and when they got there, the commissioner’s car was gone.

Well, shit.

They needed to know how far behind him they were. All they could hope was it wasn’t too late.

In fact, they’d not seen him in his office earlier. For all they knew, he’d been bullshitting them, and that’s why he kept them waiting.

Had his lacky kept them busy to help his boss get away?

Oh, if he did, Landry was going to have Gene’s size sixteen boot up his ass.

Throwing the car into park, Gene and Ethan got out to jog up the stairs. There was always security there, and that would give them an idea of how far behind the commissioner they were.

Inside, the same guard they saw earlier was sitting behind the counter.

“Hey!” Gene said.

The guard looked up.

“Back again?” he asked.

Gene nodded.

“Yeah, but now we have a question. How long has the commissioner been gone?” he asked. “When did he head out?”

As he asked that, the man looked confused.

“Uh, he’s upstairs in his office. He hasn’t left yet. He just ordered dinner, and he came down to get it from the delivery guy five minutes ago.”

They were confused.

How was he here but his car was gone?

“But his car is gone,” Ethan said. “The silver Benz with the disco ball on the mirror. Is there another way out?”

He laughed.

And they had no clue why.

“What’s so funny?” Gene asked.

The security guy explained.

“That’s not the commissioner’s car. That’s his putz aid’s car. He left an hour ago. That lackey has to drive around and pick up the commissioner in the bad weather. The commissioner has a sports car, and it’s shitty in the snow.”

They looked at each other.

Holy shit.

That worked too.

“Thanks,” Gene said, as they raced for the door to get back into their ride.

They’d almost missed this. That one little detail about the car’s color would have cost them this case had they gone to the commissioner’s house.

Silver did look white in the dark.

Had they not been observant earlier, this would have screwed them royally.

Hastily, Gene pulled out, and Ethan began researching the commissioner’s aid on his laptop.

As he did, he called Greyson.

The second he answered, he was full of questions.

“Did you get him?” he asked.

Oh, they wished.

Gene clued him in.

“It’s not the commissioner. It wasn’t his car. It’s his aid’s car. Ethan is researching him right now,” he said.

He put it on speaker.

“What can I do?” Greyson asked.

Gene knew they’d need backup.

“When we get an address, can you meet us there? We’re going to get him at his home, I hope,” he said, suspecting the worst.

The man was going to be gone.