Crossfire Christmas (18 page)

“Son of a... Teresa!” He reversed course and ran back to the truck.

The keys! Hell, Teresa had them. He banged on the glass with the butt of his gun. He could hot-wire the thing if he could get inside. He struck it again, desperate to get to her.

The sirens were on top of him now. Red-and-blue lights flashed off the glass.

“Police! Drop your weapon!”

He smashed the glass and the window shattered.

“Drop it!”

Nash raised his hands. “I’m a federal agent. A woman’s been kidnapped.”

But the blue suit wasn’t listening. All he saw was the gun in Nash’s hand. The shotgun on the ground. The wrecked car with the bloodied driver and passenger.

“On your knees,” the older cop ordered.

What was he supposed to do? Shoot two real cops?

With a nod that he was complying, Nash went down to his knees on the cold asphalt and set the gun on the ground beside him.

“These two are dead, Paulie.” The younger cop moved away from the wrecked SUV.

Nash glanced over at the car, recognizing the faces. Maybe a little intel would convince them to let him go. “The vics are Santiago Vargas and Davey Gallion. They’re a cartel lieutenant and enforcer. Look ’em up. They both have warrants.”

“Yeah, and who are you? The tooth fairy?”

“I’m a federal agent. I’ve worked undercover on a task force to nail these guys. My badge is in the room.” The black cop picked up the shotgun and went inside while the older one tucked away Nash’s sidearm and pulled his arms behind his back to handcuff him. Although it hurt like hell to bend his arm that way, it hurt worse knowing Teresa had been taken hostage. “An accomplice of theirs just kidnapped an innocent woman. You have to let me go.”

The younger cop returned with his go bag. “Hell, Paulie. He’s got a whole arsenal of firearms in here.”

The cop named Paulie dragged Nash to his feet. “You sure you’re not some kind of enforcer, too?”

He pushed Nash toward the squad car. “Look inside the bag. My badge is in there. I’m a federal agent.”

“Okay, tooth fairy. We’ll look.”

They put him in the back of the squad car until the younger cop had cleared the motel room and Paulie had called dispatch for the M.E. and backup. By then Teresa, and any chance of catching Tommy before he took her to Graciela, was gone.

Chapter Thirteen

“Sorry about the makeshift accommodations, Agent Nash.” The young police officer, DeShawn Britt, knocked on the door of the third-floor interview room to bring him a cup of coffee and apologize. “We had a tornado blow through here this past summer. It took out a good chunk of the building and we’re still repairing—”

“I know.” The tight quarters and the one-way mirror didn’t bother Nash, other than it didn’t leave him much room to pace. There wasn’t an officer he’d met yet in KCPD’s Fourth Precinct offices who hadn’t told him some chapter about the storm that had hit downtown Kansas City. He didn’t wish that kind of hardship on anyone. But right now he didn’t care if a blizzard hit the city. It wasn’t going to stop him from doing what he needed to do. “I’ve already been waiting half an hour and time is critical. It’s imperative that I talk to—”

The interview room door opened, and a short muscular detective with black hair and a fitted black fatigue sweater stepped in. Nash had seen him only once before, a brief glimpse of his profile in Teresa’s apartment. But the man was on duty now. And judging by the unrevealing expression on his face and the hardware he wore holstered beneath each arm, Detective AJ Rodriguez was serious business.

“I hear you’re looking for me.” Nash could believe that more than one suspect had quaked in his boots in this room as the veteran detective walked in, followed by a big bruiser of a blond cop. AJ dismissed the uniformed officer and nodded toward the other man. “My partner, Josh Taylor.”

“Good to meet you, Nash.” Josh stepped forward to shake his hand while AJ moved to the opposite side of the interview table and crossed his arms over the badge that hung around his neck. Josh noticed the sizing up, too, and laughed. “Good luck.”

Nash might have stood a head taller than Teresa’s brother, but he had to respect that the guy could take him. Especially if he had blondie here to back him up.

Nah. AJ Rodriguez looked tough enough to take him all on his own. Nash pulled up to his full height, ready to stand his ground.

“You kidnapped my sister?” AJ accused.

“I needed a nurse. She saved my life.”

“And now you got her kidnapped by a drug cartel?”

“Once she made contact with my office and alerted the mole to where I was hiding, I knew they’d use her to get to me. She was safer with me than out there on her own, unprotected.”

“They’re using her, all right.” AJ fisted his hands on top of the table and leaned forward. “Is this how the DEA runs their undercover ops?”

Nash hadn’t expected this conversation to go smoothly. But he didn’t have time to soothe egos or earn Brownie points with Teresa’s family. “I’m not going to try to explain how I’m worthy of your sister. I’m not. And I’m not going to explain how desperate and dangerous life gets when an undercover op blows up in your face. If you’re the vet Teresa claims, you already know that.” Nash mirrored AJ’s position at the table. “I need your help.”

AJ and Detective Taylor listened while Nash gave them a sit rep on Tommy Delvecchio, the Gracielas and the price on his head.

“Puente will have the DEA there. But he’s more interested in rounding up Graciela’s men and getting me out of there.” Nash looked big brother straight in the eye, sending a message between men, not cops. “You and I have the same goal.”

AJ nodded. “To save Teresa.”

“I have a plan. Will you help?”

“Josh, you working tonight?”

The blond cop grinned. “I’m always on the job when you are, buddy. I’ve got time for a little backup.”

Nash nodded his appreciation. Neither man had to like him or trust him, but he was counting on them to care about Teresa. “I promised her she’d be home safe to her family by Christmas. That’s one promise I intend to keep. I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

Josh excused himself from the room and got on the phone to call for some of the support they’d need. Talking cop to cop now, Nash pulled his black book from his pocket and tossed it onto the table.

AJ picked it up and thumbed through the pages of notes while Nash explained. “I want you to give that to my boss, Jesse Puente. His number’s in the front. It spells out who the mole is in our office. If I can’t take Tommy Delvecchio out when I go to that warehouse, I need you to give that to him.”

“All right.” AJ stuffed the book into the back pocket of his jeans. “Let’s do it.”

Nash pulled out his phone and punched in the number that had been repeated so often on Angel Sanchez’s phone. The same number had been found in Santiago Vargas’s phone, as well. He placed it on speaker mode and set the phone on the table.

As expected, Tommy Delvecchio picked up. “Nash. Problem with the cops? For a while there, I didn’t think they were going to let you make your phone call to me. Your little girlfriend has been a bit of a handful.”

That sounded like his girl.
Give ’em trouble, darlin’.
“Put her on. I need to know she’s okay.”

“Of course.” There was a scuffle of movement, and then a soft, familiar voice.

“Charlie?”

“I’m coming to get you, Peewee.”

Instead of crying or begging for help or even saying
I love you
again, she shouted into the phone as it was being taken away. “I counted eight men, including your friend. Two outside and—”

Bless her brave heart.

Nash couldn’t be prouder. Or more afraid. He was going to kill Tommy if one hair on her beautiful head had been hurt.

Tommy was back on the phone. “Señor Graciela is anxious to see you. While he’s pleased you took care of Señor Vargas for him, you’re still a blot on the family pride.” He gave Nash the address of a warehouse and AJ nodded, indicating he knew its location. “Shall I assume you’re on your way?”

“Yeah. I’m ready to make the trade.”

Nash disconnected the call and put away the phone.

But AJ stopped him before he could reach the door. “Are you in love with my sister?”

“Yes.”

He thought AJ would need some time to process that admission. Nash was damn sure he wasn’t the man AJ would choose for his baby sister. He even thought, as the overprotective big brother, he might want to take a swing at Nash. AJ would make a hell of a poker player because right now he wasn’t giving away a thing.

The detective simply nodded at Nash and opened the door. “Let’s go get her.”

* * *

“W
ELCOME
, N
ASH
.” T
OMMY
D
ELVECCHIO
was grinning like the Cheshire cat as he locked a pair of handcuffs around Nash’s wrists. Nash clenched his fists together in front of him, testing the strength of the steel restraints while Julian Sanchez patted him down and took both his Smith & Wesson and the gun strapped to his ankle and set them on the rusted tire rack beside the door.

Nash could see his breath in the cold air of the run-down warehouse near the Missouri River that looked a lot like that chop shop where he’d been wounded. Tommy must have scouted out both locations when he’d set up that ambush and faked his death. Tommy might have been a lying scumbag cheat, but in a lot of ways, he was predictable.

Maybe Nash could use that predictability to his advantage. “Nice digs, Tommy. So this is what your dealings with the Gracielas have bought you?”

“Actually, it’s bought me a nice place down on Isla Tenebrosa. No extradition to the U.S. from there. And now that I’m officially dead, I’m going to start a new life and enjoy the payoff.” Tommy shrugged. “This is just a business meeting, fulfilling the last of my obligation to Señor Graciela.”

“No wires, but he’s wearing a vest,” Julian reported. “Do you want me to take it off him?”

Tommy picked up the two guns, sliding one into each coat pocket. “No. Let him enjoy the illusion of having a chance at surviving. A bullet to the head will kill him as surely as one to the heart.”

“Where is she?” Nash wanted eyes on Teresa, to see for himself that she hadn’t been harmed and to try to somehow communicate his crazy idea for a plan where they could both get out of here alive.

“Now, now. You’ve forced me to be very patient. You can do the same. There’s a certain procedure that needs to be followed.” Tommy nodded to Julian to shove Nash into step ahead of him before following them into the warehouse’s main storage area.

It was a cavernous room with a second-story loft running along the east and west walls. He saw two more armed guards up there, one on each side, watching out the windows. There wasn’t much cover in the abandoned space, just a few stacks of pallets and empty crates and one rust bucket of a forklift off to one side.

But the old desk in the middle of the concrete floor was the most important spot in the room.

“Nash?” Teresa stood up from the chair beside the desk.

“Sit down.” Berto Graciela sat in the chair behind the desk. As soon as he pointed to the man Nash assumed was his bodyguard du jour, the hired gun pushed Teresa back in her seat.

She instantly shrugged her shoulder away from the goon’s big hand. Her wrists were tied in front of her, the hood of her turquoise coat billowed around her shoulders, and several strands of hair had worked loose from her ponytail and fell around her face. Nash met her gaze with the shadow of a grin. Good. He wasn’t surprised to see she’d put up a bit of a fight, but he was glad it hadn’t been enough to get herself hurt.

“We need to stop meeting like this, Peewee.” Nash raised his fists in front of him and jerked at the handcuffs. Her dark eyes widened, sensing he was trying to communicate a message.
That’s it, darlin’. Figure it out. Play along with me. I’ll keep you safe.

“Here, Nash.” Tommy walked past him to the desk, setting the two guns and the keys to the handcuffs on the corner of the desk. Teresa’s gaze drifted over to the bounty Tommy had taken from him.

But Nash’s gaze had settled on a more imminent threat. Tommy drew back his coat and pulled a knife from his belt. “Tommy!”

Nash lurched forward. Julian Sanchez caught him by his bum arm and jerked him back into place. The pain that blossomed in his shoulder was nothing compared to the fear of seeing Tommy open that knife and lean over Teresa. But Tommy lifted Teresa’s hands from the desktop and sliced through the rope that bound her. He straightened and tossed the bindings at Nash’s feet. “A gesture of trust.”

“You think I’m ever going to trust you again?”

Tommy took Teresa by the arm and pulled her up beside him. “This is the deal we made. Her life for yours.”

“Nash, no,” Teresa wailed. She dropped her face into her hands. Was she coughing? Or crying?

Wait. Teresa Rodriguez crying? What was going on here? The woman Nash knew was more likely to elbow Tommy in the gut than break down in tears.

But whatever game she was playing, Nash was the only one who seemed to realize her behavior was off. Was this some kind of reply to his silent message about her brother and a boatload of reinforcements from KCPD and the DEA taking out the two guards outside and lying in wait for his signal to storm the building and rescue her?

“This is all very touching.” Tommy jerked Teresa’s hands away from her face and pulled her to one side. “I’m glad you made a friend here in Kansas City. But Señor Graciela would like to say a few words to you before we complete the transaction.”

Berto Graciela rose from his chair behind the desk. The scalp beneath his thinning gray hair was pink from the cold. But there was nothing vulnerable about his dark eyes and grim expression. He straightened the scarf at his neck and strolled around the table to face Nash. “You made me lose face in my own organization. You and your men were undermining me at every turn.”

Nash glared down at the shorter man. “Just doing our job.”

Graciela nodded at Julian Sanchez, and the enforcer delivered a kick to the back of Nash’s legs, driving him down to his knees. He grunted as the concrete jarred through his body. Teresa’s soft gasp of concern was real this time. Nash lifted his gaze to hers and warned her to stay put. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t survived worse punishment.

Now that Berto held the superior position, he held out his hand toward his bodyguard. The man pulled a gun from his belt and placed it in his boss’s hand. Berto slipped a bullet into the firing chamber and pointed the gun at Nash’s head. “I had to put a stop to it.”

Nash refused to flinch. AJ was waiting for his signal, but he needed to know the truth first. For Torres and Richter. For Teresa. For her sister Emilia and all the lives Tommy’s treachery had endangered. “So you recruited Tommy Delvecchio. He told you who our agents were so you could kill them. Then he staged his own death so the DEA would never know he was the traitor.”

Berto nodded. “I lost millions of dollars because of you. The people who worked for me lost faith in my leadership. I want to end your miserable life right now, but your death will serve me better if I take you home and kill you in front of my men. Then everyone will know that I am the rightful chief of the Graciela organization.”

Nash looked away from the barrel of Berto’s gun and glared at Tommy. “We were your family.”

Tommy shrugged. “Yes, well, Señor Graciela paid me an obscene amount of money to become a part of his.”

“Captain Puente had no idea you were a traitor.”

“No one did.” Tommy seemed to enjoy confessing his sins almost as much as Nash needed to hear them. “But I couldn’t finish the job I was hired to do, because you wouldn’t die.”

Nash spared a loving glance for Teresa before lifting his gaze to Berto Graciela. “All right. Let’s do this. I know you’re a man of your word, even if Agent Delvecchio isn’t. You put a hit out on me, not her. Let her go and I’ll come with you without a fight.”

Berto nodded to his bodyguard, and the man went to get Teresa. But Tommy, the weaselly scumbag, wouldn’t let go. “She’s just the bait. You can’t really let her go. She’s seen our faces and knows our names. Her brother’s a cop.”

The older man turned, clearly disgusted with having his word challenged. “If she is a problem for you, Mr. Delvecchio, you take care of it. She is of no concern to me.”