Sheltering Dunes (25 page)

“I’ve heard that about them. Tough to break into. Tough to turn.”

“Pretty much impossible.”

“What’s your angle in all this? I take it you’re not GCU?”

“I head the High Profile Crimes Unit,” the lieutenant said. “We interface with most other divisions—a lot of overlap.”

“Uh-huh.” Reese waited for an answer that actually was one. She had nothing against interdepartmental cooperation, but her first priority, her critical responsibility, was to her community. She needed to have all the information available to her.

“For the past few months,” Frye said, “we’ve suspected La Mara is setting up a cooperative operation with other organized crime families.”

“So La Mara’s leaders can give you evidence on the players in this other organization,” Reese said. “You want them all.”

“We want them.”

Frye’s voice was ice. History there.

“You want to get inside, then.”

“Us and just about every other division.” Frye paused. “I’d like to send someone who knows the situation up there to get close to Butler, find out what’s going on. Hopefully persuade her to help us.”

“If she’s the leader’s girlfriend,” Reese said, “she’s got to know enough to put him away.”

“Probably him and all of his lieutenants. If we can get something on him and squeeze him, we can get to the other players.”

“Let me see if I’m reading you,” Reese said. “You want to leave her up here as bait and wait to see who comes for her?”

“If she won’t cooperate, that’s an option,” Frye said, “but I’m hoping now that she has some distance we can get her to talk to us. I’m not interested in getting the girl killed.”

“Good, because neither am I. She’s also a member of our community. I don’t want our citizens or my officers getting caught in the middle of a gang war if this all goes south.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more. Look, it’s your turf, and I’m asking to come up and play on your field. I’ll send up one of my detectives and you can name one of yours to head the team.”

Reese thought about it. Right now, Mica Butler was still in danger from whoever had assaulted her the night before. The attack had to have been a retrieval, because if they’d wanted her dead, there’d been plenty of opportunity and easier ways to do it than a face-to-face physical confrontation. Another attempt was likely, and if that failed, probably another after that. Eventually they’d choose the simpler option and eliminate her. Mica must know they were closing in, and she had only two choices—run again, or stay and hope whoever was after her gave up. If she ran, she’d never be free. If she stayed, she’d have a huge target on her back. She just might opt for a frontal assault of her own. Taking on La Mara alone sounded a lot like suicide. “Are you going to tell her what’s going on?”

“How cooperative do you think she would be if we leveled with her?”

“I haven’t had a lot of personal interaction with her, but my sense is that she’s smart and she probably ran because she wanted a different kind of life.” Reese thought about Mica and Flynn. Allie thought they were together. Making ties with people who mattered changed a person. Altered priorities. Falling in love made the future look different. “If you can offer her immunity in return for cooperation, I think she might consider it.”

“I’ll follow your lead on this, Chief. No one’s had any luck turning anyone in La Mara—at least no one who’s lived very long. That’s why no one leaves. This girl’s not only smart, she’s brave.”

“Send your detective. Then we’ll talk to Mica Butler.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the cooperation. Detective Mitchell will be on the next plane up there. Ought to get there in a couple of hours.”

“We’ll be waiting. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Appreciate it, Chief.”

“Good talking to you, Lieutenant.” Reese disconnected and wrapped her arm around Tory’s shoulder. “I have to go in.”

“I heard. It sounded pretty serious.”

“It could be. Mica Butler is in a lot of trouble.”

Tory trailed her fingers back and forth over Reese’s chest. “The assault last night, that was no random event, was it?”

“No, and I doubt very much it will be the last.”

“What can you do?”

“Wait for the detective from Philadelphia, and then bring Mica in and talk to her.”

“Talk to her.” Tory shook her head. “Sounded like a lot more was planned. Using her as bait seems dangerous.”

“I don’t like it much myself.”

“Mica could get hurt.”

Reese sighed. “Unfortunately, Mica isn’t completely innocent in all of this. She’s a gang member, and not just a peripheral one at that. She’s a high-ranking member of a vicious gang. I don’t know what she’s done, I don’t know what she might be guilty of. I suspect they’re going to squeeze her with whatever they have on her to get her to talk.”

“She’s just a girl, Reese.”

“Children are not incapable of violence or criminal behavior. I’ve seen eleven-year-olds cut down soldiers with IEDs.”

“I know. And I know that the streets of some of our inner cities are as violent as the places you fought in over there and just as cruel. But we should be better than those places. You’ll look out for her, won’t you?”

“I will. Now she’s one of ours.”

Allie paced in the small terminal of the Provincetown airport, waiting for the eleven a.m. Cape Air flight from Boston. When Reese had told her Philadelphia PD was sending up a detective to work Mica’s case, she’d had the good sense to say, “Yes ma’am,” and nothing else. But she didn’t like it. They didn’t need a hotshot guy from the big city coming up to tell them how to do their jobs. The sheriff made it clear they would cooperate, and in not quite so many words, she’d also made it plain that Provincetown was their town, and it was their job, no matter what other agencies might be involved, to keep the town safe. Allie took that charge very seriously.

When she’d taken the job in Provincetown, it had been just that, a job. When she’d first enrolled in the academy, she’d thought about going back down south after she graduated, to Charlotte, where the weather was better and the pace was slower and the people had a certain charm. Then she’d met Bri. Back then, Bri’s relationship with Caroline had been having some growing pains, and a short stay in Provincetown for a shot at Bri had seemed like a good idea. She’d grown up since then, and the things that mattered to her now were different. She had Ash, for one thing. If she wanted to relocate, Ash would come, she knew that, but this place was home to them both. These people were her people. Reese was the best boss she could ever have—she could learn to be a better cop from her, and she could grow. She belonged here. This was her territory.

She walked to the glass doors that looked out on the single runway as the small twin-engine plane descended and taxied around to stop in front of the outdoor luggage racks. The ten-seater was usually full. She waved to the pilot, who jumped down to open the doors and escort the passengers off. The first few people to climb out she knew, locals. Then the tourists, several looking a little pale and shaky. Probably their first trip in a plane that rattled and shook and appeared to be skimming the tops of the waves. None of them looked like cops.

The last person off was a lean guy in jeans, a black T-shirt, and motorcycle boots. Slicked-back black hair, dark eyebrows, and a swagger that said he knew he was hot. At first glance he looked a little like Bri, but not when you really knew Bri. Sure, Bri looked just as tough, just as sexy, but she still had a little tenderness along her jaw that Allie knew from experience softened when she kissed. Bri’s soft side wasn’t as well hidden as she liked people to think, but Allie would never tell her that. Everyone needed their armor—young studs like Bri maybe most of all.

Reese had said to pick Detective Dellon Mitchell up in plain clothes, which had seemed odd but she didn’t question the chief, not on this detail for sure. She still had the lead, but things were getting complicated fast, and she didn’t want to get pushed aside—especially not for bucking the boss’s orders.

Detective Mitchell, ’cause that’s who this guy had to be, grabbed a canvas duffel and headed to the door. Their eyes met through the glass and Allie smiled. Well now. Detective Mitchell wasn’t all he wanted people to think either. He was good, really good, and she doubted anyone who lived anywhere in the world except Provincetown would ever know. Another time, another life, and she would’ve wanted to peel off Detective Mitchell’s armor and find out what was underneath. She knew what was underneath his jeans, and she liked that idea too. Interesting detective the Philadelphia PD had sent up.

Mitchell grabbed the door and pulled it open, and Allie held out her hand. “Allie Tre—”

Mitchell swung an arm around her waist, pulled her against his tight hard body, and kissed her on the mouth. Allie had one second to curb the reflex to plant her knee in his nuts and her fist in his face, and then she went with the kiss. She bet Mitchell could kiss when he wasn’t faking it. Even closed-mouthed, his lips were smooth as silk. Allie pressed a palm to his chest and pushed away.

“Easy, boy.”

Mitchell grinned. Brilliant blue eyes swept over her. “Long time, Allie.”

“Yeah,” Allie said, aware of eyes on them. Curiosity was a fact of life in a small town, and there’d be speculation with a greeting like that. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, and she hoped there was a damn good reason for it. “What’s it been—three years?”

“More like five.”

“You got anything else?” Allie said, tilting her head at the single carry-on.

“Nope. I travel light.”

Allie didn’t detect a weapon, but she knew there was one. Probably his regulation piece was in his bag. “Okay. Let’s go, then.” They walked as they talked, and in seconds, they were outside. “Nice entrance. Next time give me a sign before you head off trail.”

“Sorry, I guess the bosses were still refining the game plan while I was flying up here. Got a message just as I was leaving Boston that we were supposed to have history.”

“History.”

“As in exes.”

“Great.” No warning about that little item. Reese probably tried to call and couldn’t get Allie on her cell phone. She wasn’t in uniform and didn’t have her radio, and the Race Point airport was a dead zone half the time. Well, the plan was in motion now after that kiss. She had driven her own car and pointed to the black Camaro. “That’s me.”

“Nice ride.”

“Uh-huh. Yours?”

“Harley.”

Allie snorted. “Figures.”

Mitchell slid into the front seat as Allie got behind the wheel. “How so?”

“The boots.”

“They could be for show.”

Allie started the engine and turned to face him. “It’s no show, though, is it?”

“How much do you know about La Mara?”

“I’ve been briefed.”

“Then you know just how tight we have to run this. You can call me Mitch, by the way.”

“You always work this way? Undercover?” Allie backed out of the lot and headed toward town.

“Depends on the case, who I’ll be talking to, how I’m most likely to get people to talk to me. Mitch is a friendly guy.” Mitch smiled. “And legit. I’m a member of the Front Street Kings. I manage backstage stuff for the drag show when I can.”

“They tour up here?”

“They’d like to. The Boston guys have it kind of sewn up, but you never know. I’ll be asking around about bookings as part of my cover.”

“And when we talk to Mica?”

“I thought I’d get your take on that,” Mitch said, easing back in the seat, wanting to appear laid back. He stretched his legs out into the wheel well and draped an arm along the window. Officer Tremont wasn’t at all sure about him, that was pretty clear. He didn’t blame her. All cops were territorial, if they were any good. Right now, he was the lone wolf in more ways than one. Tremont was a few years younger than him, but she had the looks of an alpha female. Smart sharp eyes in a face that wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of a magazine. She was in plain clothes, but she was carrying like any good cop would be under the circumstances, and her weapon rode easy on her hip. No doubt she knew how to use it. He wasn’t packing anything except his dick at the moment, and as soon as he could get to his duffel, he’d have his weapon on too. But he understood the rules. He was on Tremont’s turf, and he needed to show her the appropriate respect. “I’d like to give Mitch a chance to be seen around town with you in a friendly fashion. Establish my cover right away.”

“When we talk to Mica, she needs to know you’re Philadelphia PD. You ought to meet her that way.”

“That works for me. Once Mitch gets settled in a room somewhere, I can call you and meet you at the department more formally.”

“I think that will work. Even if Mica bumps into Mitch in town after and makes you, she’s not going to blow your cover. Why would she? She doesn’t gain anything by putting a cop’s life in danger or by even letting anyone know she’s talking to one.”

“That’s what I thought too.” He glanced out the window, trying to get his bearings. Bradford Street.

“You ever been here before?”