Chapter 5
After paddling out what seemed like a mile, they found a decent wave.
Dane let Shana ride ahead of him. Holding his balance while speeding over the water, feeling the salty spray, energized him.
Squatting low on his board, he rode fast and let the cool water refresh him, clear away the distractions and allow him to focus on the here and now.
He stayed on the board, riding to within ten yards of the shore, his blood pumping with exhilaration. Then he leaned over and fell into the three-foot-deep water as if into a feather bed, with barely a splash. No need to take a chance on hitting rocks.
Following Shana and watching her ballerina-like grace as she sped across the water didn’t hurt to pump him up either.
They pulled their boards from the water. There was no question that they were finished. He was focused on business now. He wanted to look at the ATF file. Shana trotted through the sand ahead of him and sat on a towel near Jake and Claire. She got to the file first.
Dane checked his impulse to take it from her. She’d have to see it at some point, though he wanted to be prepared with explanations or editorial commentary if needed. And if he figured the ATF correctly, some explanation would almost certainly be necessary.
He stood, toweling off and decided to do some surveillance along the beach.
“Come with me for a walk,” he said to his mother. He nodded at Jake. Jake stood and followed along.
When he returned twenty minutes later, he found Shana pacing in a tight circle and looking like a magnificent wildcat prowling for prey, reading to pounce.
Dane knew he was the pouncee. He smiled at her when she aimed her scowl at him.
“Let’s walk and talk. Jake, you can stay here and keep the ladies company.”
“That’s fine with me,” his mother said. “I enjoyed the walk, but now it’s time for me to relax.”
Shana flashed a tight smile at Claire. Then turned to him as his mother sat in her beach chair.
The smile instantly disappeared, replaced by her signature Shana-the-Beautiful scowl.
He loved that look. Normally it meant all was right with the world.
If the world were a bubble containing only him and Shana.
He took her hot hand in his. She tried pulling it away, but he was quick. He knew she wouldn’t want to make a scene so he held tight.
He led the way back to where the waves crashed against the hard sand and sent spray up when it hit the boulders large and small. He turned them around so they could walk at an angle away from the sun and he lifted his shades. This talk called for an unfiltered read of her telling eyes.
“I read the file.” She paused, seeming to study him though he made sure it was a useless exercise on her part.
“And?”
She licked her lips. He hoped it was to taste the salty air, or to moisten them. Heaven help him if she did it because she knew it would unnerve him, only a microscopic bit. He looked away, surveying the horizon, the beach, scanning the crowd for anomalies and possible problems.
“Don’t look away from me.”
Shit. He doubled up on his iron curtain and shifted his gaze to hers.
“Dag tried to murder Police Chief Paulson. Wasn’t Paulson the—?”
“Yes. He was the one who arrested Dag when Jake and I caught up with him. The second time.”
“You mean when Dag tried to kill you?”
“That what the file says? We fought. I won.” It hadn’t felt like a win. He’d been too late. He instantly erased the negative thought with his mental delete key.
“Chief Paulson was a family friend.” She wasn’t asking, but he answered.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t see this file—you already knew all about the attempted murder.”
“The day after it happened.”
She blew out a long breath and he watched her soften. He tripled-up on his watchfulness. He’d learned to become more vigilant about keeping an eye on their surroundings when Shana became less so. It was what partners did.
Dane knew all about the attack on Paulson. He’d heard it from Paulson’s mouth, but he had no idea how the ATF report had spun it, so he asked.
“Tell me what the report said about the attempted murder.”
“It said that Dag and two Mongols motorcycle gang members broke into his house at two o’clock one morning and vandalized the home.
It said that they slashed or smashed every single piece of furniture and broke everything that was made of glass and emptied the refrigerator of all contents and threw the food at the walls. ” She took a breath.
He said nothing because he knew there was more. He knew she would tell him, even though it was hard.
“It said that they wrote on the wall using blood. Animal blood. A vile threat to rape his wife and slash off… slash her.” She paused again and looked away.
“Then according to the report, with the two gang members, Dagmar Hunt went up the stairs shouting for Captain Paulson to show his face. Paulson had tried making a call, but the phone lines had been cut.” She paused and frowned. “I guess this happened before everyone used cell phones.”
He nodded and held his patience.
“Paulson came out into the hallway, after having locked his wife in the closet, and faced Dag and his two thugs. They were at the top of the stairs. The two thugs had guns aimed at him and Dag held a knife, a ten-inch hunting blade.” She stopped walking.
While she paused to gather her courage, he took in their surroundings, checked the location of Jake, Claire, and Tillie, then settled his eyes on her.
“I can’t believe he lived.”
“Paulson is a smart man.”
“Dagmar Hunt is far more violent and bloodthirsty than I realized.”
And there it was. She’d admitted what he’d known was bothering her, what he knew would be a problem as soon as Cap handed over the file.
He reached out and put an arm over her shoulder, like they were friends, like he was consoling her. But he wouldn’t try to gloss it over or water it down for her. Dagmar Hunt was not only bloodthirsty, he was crazy. And smart.
“I know.”
“You know everything.” She blew out a breath and pushed a hand through the great masses of her hair.
“Glad you figured it out.”
“Figured out that you know everything or that Dagmar is a mad barbarian?”
“Both.” He allowed the lift in one corner of his mouth.
She caught it and rewarded him by latching onto his arm and turning him around.
“Let’s get back where we belong—on close duty.”
“Siamese.”
She gave him a small laugh, but when he was about to enjoy the moment his phone buzzed in his hip pocket. He slipped it out and noted the caller, causing a quick blip in his chest.
“Governor. What do you have?”
“I wanted to fill in some of the blanks about how and why our man showed up in Boston coincidentally at this most inconvenient time.”
“I’d love to hear your story.” His pulse leapt in his throat. He concentrated on his breathing, on keeping his cool, but he was certain the news would infuriate him against someone. Someone had failed him, failed his mother, and he knew it wasn’t one of his own.
“Call me back on your secure line when you get back to the shack.”
“Will do.”
“How’s the surf? You manage it?”
“Easier than life.”
“I’ll second that. Put me on your surfing calendar.”
“For what year?”
“A week from never.”
Dane grunted and they ended the call.
“We’re out of here.”
“What does he have?” Shana hurried to keep up with his quickened pace. Urgency pushed him forward.
Claire stood before he stopped in front of her, before he spoke.
“Mum, time to go,” Shana said. “Let’s pack up.”
Shana had already thrown the towels into her bag.
Jake said, “You got a call.”
“My friend Peter. I’ll call him back on the landline when we get to the shack. No need to mention in front of Tillie that Peter was the governor of Massachusetts. No need to sound the alarms so loud that she’d hear them. Not yet. He’d leave it to Shana to determine when.
“I’ll have my office email photos of all Dag’s known gang members past and present.” Jake lifted his phone from his pocket. “We have an extensive file of our own, including some lesser known local boys.” His smile was less sunny, but it was there.
Back at the shack, it was crowded and hot. Dane cranked up the air-conditioning, but the cold air wouldn’t match the iciness he felt in his gut and flowing through his veins.
Jake was the last one inside and he closed the door behind them. They all stood in the kitchen. Claire, Tillie Shana, Jake, and him. Sam appeared from the office, but he didn’t try and squeeze into the kitchen with them. Instead he blocked the exit to the hall.
“I need to use the landline,” Dane said. He pushed past Sam and Jake followed him. Shana went for the refrigerator. Dane didn’t stay long enough to see what kind of refreshments she might serve. He was thirsty, but the last thing he needed right now was a tumbler of icy tequila.
He should have expected Shana to follow him to the secure line in his office, but he wanted her to take care of their mothers.
He glanced back to see Claire taking a pitcher he didn’t know he had from a cabinet, along with tea bags.
Tillie opened the freezer and pulled out some ice.
He mentally cringed, wondering if she’d spy the stash of tequila, but if she had she didn’t make a squeak.
“What are you going to say to the governor?” Shana’s voice knifed through his preoccupation with the two women’s activities as he picked up the receiver from the old-fashioned cradle and dialed.
“Don’t worry. I’m not blaming Peter for leaking my mother’s travel plans, but he might know who did.”
“He won’t say unless he’s sure.”
“Then I’ll speculate and he’ll tell me if I’m hot.”
“You’re always hot.”
It was an unexpected flirt in the middle of the tension, bubbling up as if she were out of control. He reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair and played his fingers through the soft curls.
The governor answered on the fifth ring. Not a good sign.
“You caught me at an opportune time. I just got off a call with the FBI SAC.”
“Who was yelling at who?”
“I gave him an earful. He said whatever information passed through his office did so unofficially and he’d look into it. There were a handful of special agents who’d been read in on your mother’s visit and the outstanding threat, but we both know who the likely suspect is.”
“Assistant Special Agent in Charge Mark Richards.”
Shana lifted her hands to her hips, standing in front of him like a warning sign.
“He has my vote.”
“Any background on the ATF agents involved?”
“Not yet. I’ll work something up for you. Send it through Cap. They’re on their way now. You should be getting a call from someone.”
“The bastards want me to help them set Dag up.” He kept his cool, but found out at that moment that it was actually possible to see red. It wasn’t a healthy sign. For someone.
“They’ll be warned from this end that there are innocent people involved and everyone should proceed with maximum caution.”
“Is that a warning to me?”
“I know better than to interfere with you on this. I’ll do what I can through official channels and I trust you’ll do what you need to do to protect your people.”
“My people?”
“All of them. All your loved ones.”
That was too cryptic for Dane to worry about translating, so he didn’t bother.
He thanked his friend and old special ops commander and hung up the receiver in its cradle.
There was something comforting in the finality of the solid clunk, the feel and sound of it that he didn’t get from tapping a cell phone.
“Now what?” Shana said, hands still on hips and scowl in full force. She is one of my loved ones.
But this was no time for intimate revelations.
“We fire up the barbie and have some steaks while we wait for the other shoe to drop.”
“The barbie?”
“Sure. Australian for barbeque, right?”
“Don’t even try.”
He caught the tell-tale dimple before she turned and stalked out of the office to the kitchen like a cat on the hunt. He was glad he wasn’t the target. This time.
Waiting was his least favorite thing to do, but he knew Cap would call as soon as the ATF agents checked in. Or as soon as he got the intel from Peter on who the agents were.
Dane had no one to contact at the ATF. It was an odd and unwelcome feeling to not have an inside perspective. But he sure as hell would be adding some names from the ATF to his private contact list before this was over.