Midnight Alias: A Killer Instincts Novel (29 page)

The girl frowned. “What’s this?”

“My phone number. Call me when you’re ready to get help.”

“Save yourself the trouble, Candy. I don’t want or need—”

“I have connections with a good rehab clinic,” Isabel interrupted. “Say the word, and I’ll make the call.”

Before Heaven could mount another protest, Isabel left the dressing room.

* * *

Liam Macgregor looked like a
GQ
model. Even though Luke was a hundred percent hetero, he had no problem acknowledging that another man was handsome—and Liam Macgregor was really fucking handsome. He had a chiseled male-model face, piercing blue eyes, thick black hair, a dimpled chin. In his crisp white dress shirt, fitted faded jeans, and leather loafers, the dude looked like a walking cologne ad.

Fortunately, Macgregor’s looks were accompanied by a serious case of soldier. The military precision of his eyes, the predatory way he moved—he was a warrior to the core, which was probably why Morgan used his services. He was also a gold mine of information, just as Luke had suspected he’d be.

“The Five Families have a long-standing relationship with the Afghans, but they’re also getting their shit from South America these days,” Liam said as he took a seat on the sofa. He leaned forward to accept the coffee mug Trevor handed him. “There’s been a huge increase in availability, and the Colombians are smart businessmen—they undercut their competition’s prices, maintain solid pipelines, and their drugs are high quality.” His blue eyes suddenly homed in on Luke. “What happened to your lip?”

“A friend and I had a difference of opinion.”

The friend in question was not present for this meeting—D had been holed up in the guest room ever since their brawl, and nobody expected the guy to come out anytime soon, not since Trevor had officially ordered him back to the compound. Luke didn’t envy Trevor, that was for sure. The team leader had made a tough call by pulling D out, but Luke knew that if he’d been in Trev’s place, he’d have done the same fucking thing. D had been a loose cannon since this job had begun, and his presence was becoming a liability.

Now that the assignment status had reverted back to ongoing, they needed to come up with a plan of attack, which meant gathering all the intel they could if they wanted this raid to go off without a hitch. At this point, Luke had no idea what the hell to expect, not just in terms of how Angelo ran his drug operation but also regarding Carter Dane.

Because really, where the fuck
was
the guy? AWOL from the club, hadn’t been spotted among De Luca’s soldiers, wasn’t checking in with his supervisor. Was he dead? Alive? In too deep? Working with the Mob? Too many damn questions surrounded that man.

Lighting a cigarette, Luke walked over to the open sliding door. “Any idea which cartel De Luca’s tangled up with?”

“I made a few calls before I came over,” Liam answered in his faint Boston accent. “They’ve used the Ramos outfit a few times, but rumor has it they just closed a new deal with the Moreno cartel. The Morenos used to specialize primarily in cocaine, but they’re branching out.”

“When did this deal go through?” Trevor asked sharply.

“A few weeks ago, according to my source. Money exchanged hands, but not the merchandise.”

“That’s probably why this is so important to Angelo,” Holden spoke up. “New partnership, first shipment.”

Luke took a deep drag of his smoke. “How do the South Americans get the stuff to the States? Air routes? Sea?”

“Both. Their methods are pretty diverse, but word is they’re looking for alternative routes. With airport security tighter than ever, it’s getting harder for their couriers to bring the drugs in on commercial flights. Cargo flights and vessels are also tough—there’ve been too many arrests and seizures the last couple of years.”

“But the drugs still get here,” he pointed out.

“Well, yeah. The Big Apple is one of the biggest importation and distribution hubs for South American merchandise.”

“So how is the Moreno cartel bringing the drugs over?”

Liam set down his mug and ran a hand through his thick black hair. Man, he had great hair. Luke had to shake off the thought—this definitely wasn’t the time to be appreciating some other dude’s hair.

“They’ve got a deal with the Dominicans,” Liam replied. “There’s one group in particular, they traffic the drugs into the States through Miami. The port there is busy as hell, and corrupt to shit. The Dominicans have no problem getting the drugs into Florida.”

“What happens after that?” Luke asked.

“The merch is trucked up the eastern seaboard.” Liam shrugged. “I don’t know what kind of fronts the New York bosses have, but the Boston outfits use certain businesses as a cover for their drug operations. They’ve got a bunch of import/export companies, and when the legitimate goods arrive in Miami or at the port here, the drugs are stashed in the same truck, transported to the company warehouse and then moved to various mills around the city.”

Holden reached for the file folder sitting on the table. “I’ve got a list of businesses De Luca’s involved with. Most of them are owned by dummy corps, but I’ve been able to trace some of them back to the organization.” He flipped through the pages. “There are several import-type ventures here—coffee, fruit, textiles.”

“So we need to find out if any of these companies are expecting shipments this week,” Trevor said. He turned to Liam. “Can you get the intel?”

“I can try, but my contacts aren’t so current anymore. Since I’ve gone independent, a lot of my sources have dried up.”

Luke uttered a frustrated curse. “We need to know when and how this shipment is coming in.”

“I’ll try,” Liam said again. “But no promises.”

“See what you can do.”

Liam propped an arm behind his head. “By the way, Morgan asked me to help out on this job. He said you might need the manpower.”

Luke sighed. “Yeah. We might.”

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the discussion. All four men went on the alert. Trevor, who already had his Sig in hand, relaxed when a soft voice sounded from the hall.

“It’s me.”

Luke snuffed out his cigarette as Trevor opened the front door to let Isabel in. She wore a black fitted coat and blue jeans, and her blond hair was tied back in a loose twist, yet Luke had a tough time recognizing her. He blinked a few times, uncertain despite the fact that he knew it was her. Isabel Roma had the uncanny ability to completely transform, and the woman he remembered from the last job looked nothing like the one standing in front of him.

But her warm smile was a giveaway, and so was her melodic voice as she crossed the room to give him a hug. “It’s good to see you,” she said with genuine happiness.

He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “You too. You look different.”

“I always look different,” she said wryly. She stepped out of the embrace and glanced over at Holden and Liam.

Holden rose to greet her. “You must be Isabel. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you on the last job, but I was off rotation.”

“You’re lucky. That was a tough gig.”

Liam stood up too, his blue eyes sweeping over Isabel’s face. After a second, he nodded as if he liked what he saw. “Liam Macgregor,” he said. “I freelance for Morgan.”

As they shook hands, Liam held on a little too long, and from the corner of his eye, Luke saw Trevor stiffen. When the team leader rested a hand on Isabel’s arm and ushered her away from Macgregor under the pretense that he wanted to take her coat, Luke tried not to raise his eyebrows. Man. Trevor totally had a thing for the blond chameleon. Was this a new development, or something that had been brewing since the last job?

Isabel sat on one of the armchairs, folding her hands in her lap. “Sorry to show up out of the blue. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“We don’t mind. What’s going on?” Luke asked.

She shrugged. “I was walking around SoHo, trying to decide if I want in on this gig, and somehow I wound up here.”

“So what’d you decide?”

“I’ll stay and help.”

Luke’s face broke into a smile. “Thanks, Izzy.”

Instead of smiling back, she scowled at him. “But I swear to God, if I get shot again . . .”

From the couch, Liam laughed. “These jerks got you shot?” He made a
tsk
ing sound. “See, this is why the team needs me full-time. I keep telling Morgan to make me permanent.”

Isabel grinned at him. “Keep me bullet-free and I’ll write you a recommendation letter myself.”

At that little interchange, Trevor went RoboCop again, shoulders rigid, jaw tense. Luke didn’t blame him. He’d be annoyed himself if Olivia was smiling and laughing with some other man.

Not because he loved her, though. No. Because that was ridiculous. Ever since that troubling convo with Kane, Luke had been trying to convince himself that he was just overanalyzing everything. He couldn’t have fallen in love with Olivia—in a week, no less. Shit like that took time, didn’t it?

Pushing away the thought, he focused on Isabel, who was looking through the file Holden had left on the table. “So what do we know?” she asked.

Trevor quickly filled her in. When he mentioned that they had no clue when the shipment was coming in and how it was getting there, she tilted her head in thought. “I might know someone who can help.”

“Who?” Luke demanded.

“Don’t worry—they’re not government.”

“They?”

“A couple of guys I know. They’re information dealers. These guys can find out anything, and I mean,
anything
. I’ve used them before a few times and they’re good, trustworthy. But expensive.”

“How expensive?” Trevor asked warily.

“Last time I went to them, I was out five grand. The time before it was twenty. They’ve got some kind of messed-up sliding scale going on—personally, I think they make up the prices as they go along. But I guess the fee depends on how hard it is to get the intel.”

“Call them,” Luke said. “We’ll give them whatever they want.”

She raised a brow. “You don’t need to clear it with Morgan?”

Grinning, he gestured around the elaborate apartment. “Morgan can afford it, trust me.”

* * *

Olivia was undressing in her bedroom when she heard a soft tap on the windowpane. She jumped in surprise, then relaxed as Luke’s face appeared on the other side of the glass. Wearing nothing but a pair of panties and a T-shirt, she walked over to the window just as Luke climbed inside. His dark eyes instantly sought out her bare legs.

“Perfect timing,” he said with a wolfish grin. “You’re almost naked.”

She rolled her eyes, then narrowed them. “What happened to your lip?”

He shrugged. “D and I exchanged some words.”

Moving closer, she gently touched the corner of his sexy mouth. It was slightly swollen from where his lip had split, and the hint of a bruise marred his cheekbone.

“It looks like more than words went down,” she said.

“D packs a mean right hook, I’ll give him that.”

Anger snaked up Olivia’s spine. “I hope you hit him back.”

“I threw the first punch, so technically all that anger on your face should be directed at me.” He beamed at her. “But it’s good to know you care.”

She wasn’t walking into
that
minefield. Nor did she want to overly examine why the thought of someone hurting Luke bugged her so much. This thing between them was purely physical, so the urge to claw out the eyes of anyone who hurt him was totally uncalled for.

She edged backward. “I was about to hop into the shower.”

“Like I said, perfect timing.” He began unzipping his bomber jacket. “I’ll join you.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, there isn’t a bathroom in here. You might run into my mother in the hallway.”

“It’s about time we were introduced.”

Butterflies of anxiety took flight in her stomach. “No,” she blurted out.

His expression darkened. “Why not?”

“Because . . .”
Because this isn’t going anywhere
, she almost said, but the words sounded harsh even in her own mind. Still, it was the truth. They’d both agreed this would be temporary, and they’d slept together only once, which didn’t even qualify as a fling. How could she introduce him to her mom only to have to explain later why he wasn’t coming around anymore?

“Because she’s sleeping,” Olivia finally said. Which was true. Her mother had gone into her bedroom right after dinner to take a nap.

“Well, then we won’t run into her in the hall, will we?” Luke offered a lopsided smile. “So . . . shower?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “First tell me why you’re here. Did you talk to your team?”

“Yes, I talked to them. Wasn’t necessary, though, since apparently we’re still on the clock.”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The body we found at the warehouse? It wasn’t the missing agent. DNA results came in earlier.”

“I don’t get it. Who the heck was it in the warehouse?”

“Don’t know yet. They’re running his profile, so hopefully he’s in the system and they can ID him.”

She bit her lip in thought. “Whoever he was, you were supposed to think he was your missing agent. Why?”

“Don’t know that either. But none of that matters right now, darlin’. My team’s been ordered to take down the shipment.”

Relief shot through her. “For real?”

“For real.”

A smile lifted the corners of her mouth, and she resisted the urge to do a little happy dance. “So we’re really going to bring Vince down?”

“Uh-uh, there’s no
we
in this equation.”

“What does that mean?” she asked warily.

“It means your snooping days are over. Leave the fact-finding to us. We’ll gather the intel on the shipment and arrange to take it down. We’ll deal with the Feds when the time comes. Your only job is to fly under Angelo’s radar and stay alive.”

Annoyance clamped around her throat. “I want to help.”

“Tough.”

“Don’t you dare
tough
me.” She glared at him. “I won’t be relegated to the sidelines, and I refuse to be indebted to anyone else.”

Luke gaped at her. “You’re not indebted to us, Olivia. Not in the slightest.”