Page 23 of Velvet and Valor (Platinum Security: Shadows of LA #4)

“Platinum admittedly hasn’t been able to gather much info on the Triads or Moorcrock. The Triad made sure to cover their tracks once they were done having their fun with the woman from the airport, and with Moorcrock in the wind, we are out of leads.”

“I know we’ve gone over this before June, but is there anything you can remember? Anything she said to you when you clashed at the airport?” I prompt gently.

“Aside from the fact that she wanted to beat my face in until she realized she was bleeding, and calling me some colorful names, no. Nothing that seems significant.”

“She probably got nervous about leaving a DNA trail, not that it makes much of a difference to her now,” I say somberly.

“Someone has got to know something. We just aren’t asking the right people, or the right questions. You have connections with that Hollywood guy who used to be a Cuban mobster, don’t you Dane?”

Dane snorts. “You are overestimating the efficacy of that particular font of information,” Dane says. “But I’ll try.”

We pull off the highway and eat in a deserted sandwich shop. It’s not exactly great food, but we’re not likely to be found here, either.

Dane makes some calls, and I look up some old contacts.

June spends her time dozing in the booth.

I stop and take off my long-sleeved shirt and drape it over her slumbering form.

Guilt plagues me. I almost got June killed.

Again. If she died, I’m not sure what I would do.

I haven’t known her that long, and yet I feel like I’ve known her forever.

Dane taps me on the shoulder and holds his phone toward me.

“Check it out.”

I turn the screen around so I can see it clearly. A photo of Moorcrock, grinning ear to ear, appears in black and white next to an obituary headline.

Sidney Phelps—Navy veteran and loving uncle

“Wait, is this Moorcrock’s dad or something?” I ask. “I mean, he’s got shorter hair and looks younger.”

“No, check the date,” Dane says. “It was from a few years ago. It’s definitely Moorcrock.”

“How is that possible?” June asks.

“He must have faked his death,” I say, shaking my head and sighing. “That makes things more complicated. No wonder we can’t find anything solid about Moorcrock. He’s a fictional character!”

“Yes,” Dane says. “But Sidney Phelps is real enough. And take another look at that headline—he’s survived by a nephew he apparently thought the world of.”

“What makes you say that?” I ask.

“Phelps, AKA Moorcrock, left his nephew Ricky a marina and a yacht in his will,” Dane says.

My heart quickens in my chest.

“Oh man, do we know which marina?”

“Yes, we do,” Dane replies with a grin.

June leans forward eagerly.

“Do you think we might be able to find some information on the yacht??” she asks.

“There’s a pretty good chance of it,” I say. “If Moorcrock really is close to his nephew, he might have kept Ricky in the loop about his plan to fake his own death.”

“Like you said, if nothing else we can eliminate Moorcrock as a suspect for the most recent attacks,” Dane adds.

June finishes her glass of iced tea and sets it down purposefully.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go! The sooner we find whatever it is that they want, the sooner I can return to living my life.”

I try not to react to June’s words. She wants to return to her life? As in the life she had before we met?

Does that mean she just wants to be safe from Moorcrock and his Triad associates? Or does she want to leave everything about this situation behind her--including me?

“We have a problem, however,” Dane says. “The Marina is private, with a locked gate and guards.”

“A guard who makes ten fifty an hour,” I say with a snort.

“Yes, we could probably sneak past him,” Dane says dryly. “But Jax’s friend on the police force only has so much sway. If PS gets sued because we accidentally peekaboo a rich guy in a maid’s outfit with his mistress, it could sink the entire business.”

“Her life is in danger, man,” I say, a bit of threat creeping into my voice.

“I know,” Dane replies, his tone calm despite my aggression. “And I never said we wouldn’t get in the marina. I just mean your typical Army Ranger ‘sneak a peak’ tendencies aren’t going to fly here.”

“Hey, just because our elite soldiers are smart enough to do a little recon before strapping C4 to every available surface—”

“Boys, boys, boys,” June interrupts. “You’re both super smart and super tough, equally. Now can we focus on business, please?”

A grin spreads over Dane’s lips.

“Oh, yeah, she’s gonna fit right in,” he says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

Dane looks over at June.

“He ain’t all that bright, is he?”

June shakes her head.

“No, not really, but he has his charms. Sometimes I wish he didn’t.”

“Why do I get the impression I’m being ganged up on?” I ask. “You sounded like you might have an idea of how to get in, Dane.”

“Maybe,” he says. “Harlowe sent me a link to our way in. It should still be open on my phone.”

He reaches down and uses his finger to unlock his cell phone. I pick it up and before I even read the screen I have something to say.

“Farm animal porn, all over your phone, Dane? You sick fuck!”

“Just read it, Mr. Comedian.”

I check the screen for real this time. I’m confused at first, because it’s a commercial website. Then I realize what’s for sale.

“Moorcrock’s nephew Ricky is selling the yacht?” I ask.

“Yeah. I took the liberty of scheduling us a tour.”

“You can schedule a tour?”

He nods.

“Damn, Dane, you and Harlowe really came through. I don’t know what to say.”

“How about thank you?” June suggests. Then she turns to Dane. “Thank you.”

“Wait,” I say. “Why would Moorcrock’s nephew have any valuable information on a yacht he’s planning to sell?”

Dane snorts.

“I asked the same question, but Harlowe had a pretty good theory. Moorcrock faked his death, so he probably is in the process of establishing a new identity.” Dane glances over at me before returning his eyes to the road. “What do you think his plans are?”

“He’s gonna buy his own yacht back,” I say. “From his nephew. But why give tours?”

“To make it look legit,” June says. “I co-produced a spy movie based on a true story. These jewel thieves in Eastern Europe hid their loot in a house they were renovating. They had contractors and potential buyers walking around on top of millions of dollars in stolen goods, but the police never thought to look there.”

“Well, I’m sold,” I say. “All right, Dane. Let’s hit that Marina.”

“No way,” Dane says. “Look at the state of you two. If we’re going to do this, you’ll have to get some decent clothes, maybe some shades or something in case some of Moorcrock’s men are hanging around.”

“He’s got a point,” June says. “We’ve obviously been through Hell.”

“You're right. I guess I got used to wearing soiled clothing for days on end in the Rangers. But now that you mention it, I could use some fresh garments to adorn myself with.”

Dane takes us downtown so we can acquire better clothes. It feels so weird to have been in the mountains a couple hours ago and now be surrounded by the glass variety. Makes me wonder what this place looked like before it got developed.

My instincts kick in as Dane slows the car to a stop near a once-grand but now struggling mall.

I check the street, making sure the coast is clear.

No one appears to have followed us. I don’t see anyone giving us more attention than is warranted.

So far, so good. I still can’t shake the feeling there’s more danger here than we realize.

“Are you okay, Axel?” June asks. She closes the door and the wind catches it, making the door slam hard. Hard enough to sound like a gunshot.

All of a sudden, the concrete canyons are gone, replaced by the high banks of a shallow, muddy river.

I’m slogging through with mud filling my boots, dragging one of my squad-mates on a makeshift raft behind me.

I don’t know which one. His face is mostly gone, and there’s so much blood I can’t read his tags…

“Axel?”

A pair of warm, soft hands envelope my face. I open my eyes and see June’s concerned face looking up at me.

“Axel, can you hear me? Breathe, Axel,” she says. Her voice seems to come from far away. I realize darkness edges my vision, and my chest feels tight. I let out the breath I hadn't known I was holding and suck in a deep lungful of fresh air. The darkness recedes and I return fully to the present.

“Hey, is he all right?” Dane asks with the edge in his voice of someone who knows.

“I’m fine,” I say, more aggro than I need to. I’m compensating, I know, for my own perceived weakness but it’s an instinct. “I don’t think you’re going to find a place to park.”

“I don’t either. I’ll just cruise around until you're done.” Dane reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a black piece of plastic. “Here. Jax wants receipts and he says if you get designer label shit he’s going to take it out of your paycheck.”

Dane turns to June and his expression softens.

“Ms. June, Jax says you don’t need to worry about the budget, his wife has you covered.”

“She really is a sweetheart. You wouldn’t expect that from a movie superstar,” June says.

“Man, I get no respect,” I mutter as Dane pulls off. June still has a hold of me, like she’s afraid I’m going to drift away or something. It feels good to be held, to be cared for. My heart flutters in my chest and I feel weak in a whole different way.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” June asks, caressing my cheek.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Junebug,” I say, curling my fingers around her hand and squeezing gently. “I’m always fine when I’m with you.”

Her eyes get that glowy, dewy look women get when they’re feeling the moment. When they’re feeling you. I rarely got to see it in my life before and seeing that expression on June’s face takes the experience to a whole other level.