Chapter 5
Well, this truly sucked.
The night had started out as quiet, the dreaded Q word for first responders because saying it aloud meant you’d get slammed. Then Rafe’s grandmother arrived with heart issues.
Then a GSW (gunshot wound) vic, to the chest, courtesy of the man’s son, Ken, who swore it was an accident. The dad died, despite their best efforts.
Allison’s repeated condolences and suggestions of getting help from a social worker had been met with an angry tirade of words until Ken peeled out of the parking lot, rubber tire marks on pavement.
His last threat to her was there would be hell to pay for letting his father die.
Guess this is my hell.
For an hour, Rafe had grilled her. Where did she get the candy? Why was it in the nurses’ station? Who was her contact?
Sitting at a cold steel table, thankful only for not being handcuffed to the steel pipe running the length of the table, Allison kept her answers brief. She thought about demanding a lawyer but knew it would make her look guilty.
Besides, she was too damn worried about Diana. Where the hell had her baby sister gotten that candy?
“I know my rights, Rodriguez. And I know I’m not dealing drugs. The candy couldn’t have been fentanyl.”
He gave her a level look. “It tested positive. The lab is running results now to determine how much was in the pills.”
The fentanyl had been in her space at the nurses’ station, and worse, she’d brought it to the party for Rafael’s niece and family to eat. She, who had dedicated her life to saving lives, could have killed innocents. This was the stuff of nightmares.
But she couldn’t reveal the truth and put Diana in jeopardy. She needed to talk to her sister first.
But no way was she talking to her sister with the FBI listening to everything she said.
More than caring about her own hide, or the humiliation of being taken in handcuffs out of her job and hustled into a waiting black SUV, was her concern for Diana.
Had her sister gotten into something she should have avoided?
Or had she thought the candy, like Allison herself had thought, only candy?
“Allison, where did you get the candy?”
She stretched out her legs, still clad in nurse’s scrubs, and studied a blotch of blood on her left thigh. The last patient she treated had bled out on the floor.
“I asked you a question. Stop ignoring me.”
Allison glanced up at Rafe. “I’m not ignoring you. I was concentrating.” She pointed to the blood spot. “Do you know how hard it is to remove old blood from cotton? All my scrubs are dirty. This was my last pair, and I had hoped to get home after my shift to do laundry.”
He stared at her. “Laundry. That’s all that you’re thinking about?”
“Well, it’s better than thinking that you’re convinced I deliberately brought a bowl of fentanyl into your niece’s makeshift party so I could overdose a group of innocent teens, Supervisory Special Agent Rafael.”
Allison leaned forward as he placed two hands on the table and scowled at her.
“Convince me you’re innocent, Ms. Lexington. Tell me who set you up if you didn’t do this.”
“I don’t know.”
Her gaze darted away. Too late she remembered that was a clear sign of avoiding the truth.
“You’re sweating profusely, Ms. Lexington. Why?”
“It’s hot in here.”
“The thermostat is turned down to seventy.”
More questions. More grilling. Allison’s back began to ache, along with her head. She had been in the middle of gulping down a quick sandwich when Rafe arrested her.
At least he’d shown some concern, for he’d asked if she had touched the candy with her bare hands when she’d opened the packets to place it in the bowl. Allison had not.
Nor in her wildest nightmares could she ever envision it was fentanyl.
She rubbed her head. “Listen to me, I’m as concerned as you are about this. I’m a trauma nurse. I’ve seen what fentanyl does. Do you really think I’d want to deal in that crap? Just the dust alone is deadly! That’s a clear contradiction.”
“You’re a trauma nurse who rides a motorcycle, and most trauma and emergency room nurses have seen what a bike crash can do to a body. That’s a clear contradiction as well. Unless you have a death wish.”
Allison sighed. Now he sounded like her coworkers. “You ride a motorcycle, too. Do you have a death wish?”
Rafe folded his arms across his chest as another agent cleared his throat. “Rafe,” the agent began. “Maybe we should...”
“Leave us.” Rafe didn’t take his gaze off her. “Go find some paperwork to finish.”
When the other agent left, Rafe pulled out a chair, the steel scraping against the linoleum floor in a protesting squeak.
“Level with me, Ms. Lexington. I know you. You’re hiding something. Where did you get the damn pills? We’re going to find out. Your hospital has surveillance cameras. It may take a little time. And in the time it takes us to find out who left you the pills, more innocents could get hurt.”
His voice softened. “You’re a nurse. Do you really want more of this crap on the streets for kids to eat and OD?”
Damn, he struck at the heart of her. Allison had treated more than a few overdoses of fentanyl, including a ten-year-old who’d been exposed to his older brother’s stash. No amount of naloxone could have saved the kid, despite her best efforts. Remembering the child knotted her stomach.
“No.”
His intense gaze met hers across the table. “Help me stop this crap before it’s too late. Were the pills yours?”
“No. I thought they were candy.”
“Who gave you the pills and said it was candy?”
Allison bit her lip. “I can’t remember.”
Her gaze darted away and she was sweating. Lying.
“Tell me or you’re spending the night in jail.”
Allison threw her head back. “Fine, put me in jail.”
“I can’t believe you’d go to such lengths to protect someone who distributes death in a pill.”
“I saw you with your niece and your family. You’d do anything for your family as well!”
Oh damn. Allison slumped in her chair as a satisfied look came over him. “I see.”
He consulted with an electronic pad. “You have a sister, Diana. She’s marrying the nephew of Hector Hernandez in one month. Do you know who Hernandez is?”
“I know.”
“I’m bringing in your sister for questioning.”
Her mouth went dry as she tried to formulate a plan. She had to call her sister. Find out who gave her the pills. No way could she allow Rafe or any law enforcement agent to arrest Diana. Question her. Whatever.
She couldn’t trust Rafe. Not with this.
Suddenly the bloodstain on the pantleg of her scrubs, and the matching one on her shirt, seemed much larger. Allison pointed to her clothing.
“I’ve been here for two hours. Mind if I go to the bathroom?” she asked.
His gaze narrowed. But he signaled to the window, rather, the one-way mirrored glass, and an agent came into the room.
“Escort her to the women’s room and guard the door,” Rafe instructed.
When she was in the bathroom, after making sure she was alone, Allison paced to the end of the room farthest from the door.
Like many of her coworkers, she kept the pockets of her scrubs filled with medical necessities. But her cell phone was close as well. Not in her pocket where it could fall out.
She shrugged out of the stained top of her scrubs, washed the blood off her stomach that had leaked through the scrubs and fished the cell phone out of her bra.
Allison shot off a quick text to her sister.
The candy you gave me is dangerous. Do not touch any more of it by any means.
She tapped the phone, waiting for a reply, hoping Diana wasn’t with her fiancé.
A couple of minutes later, a response. Dangerous how? What’s wrong?
The hell with texting. She called Diana. “Diana, where did you get that candy you gave me?”
A sleepy yawn. “Why? What’s going on? Did it taste bad?”
A short laugh. Understatement of the year. “Who gave it to you?” she whispered.
“No one gave it to me. I saw it in a box marked Wedding Favors that Hector had brought into his house. There was a lot so I thought you’d want some to get through your shift. You’ve been working too hard, Ally.”
Allison rubbed her tired eyes. “Diana, do not touch any more of that candy under any circumstances. Don’t get near it. It isn’t candy. It’s fentanyl.”
“It can’t be.”
“Di, listen to me. The candy you gave me tested positive for fentanyl.”
“What?! It’s impossible. My wedding favor candy? Did you open the bags?”
“Yes, but what does it matter?”
A long pause and then Di sighed. “There must be a mistake. Ally, you work in a hospital with fentanyl. Some of those pills must have gotten mixed up in the candy I gave you.”
“No, listen to me, that’s ridiculous...”
“You left it at the nurse’s station, were you guarding it every single moment, Ally? It’s candy, not drugs.”
Major denial. Allison drew in a deep breath. How the hell could she get through to her sister. “No one is stupid enough to mix legal fentanyl pills in with that candy, Di. Listen to me, for God’s sake, don’t get near that box...”
“What box?” a deep male voice asked.
She quickly hung up. Damn.
The door to the women’s room stood wide open. Rafael stood in the door frame. He strode inside, his gaze glittering with anger. Yet his grip was gentle as he took the cell from her shaking hand. He glanced at the screen and the last number dialed.
Allison suddenly became aware of the cool air brushing over her chest and bare torso and the fact she wore only a bra.
His gaze flicked downward and something else flared in his eyes. Pure male interest. But he looked away, still gripping her phone.
Rafe shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to her. “I’d advise wearing this.”
Too tired to protest, she slipped it on, surrounded by warmth, his warmth, and the spicy scent of his cologne. Taking her upper arm, he marched her out of the restroom.
“I can’t believe this,” Allison muttered.
She’d wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear when Rafael caught her clad only in her bra, calling Diana to warn her.
No mercy. He marched her out of the women’s bathroom into his large office with windows overlooking a bay of cubicles. Fortunately it was after hours and only a few agents were working.
And he’d had the courtesy to offer her his suit jacket.
Rafe had barked out orders to those who stared. He all but threw her into the chair in front of his desk.
“Your sister did this. She’s in on it.”
“No! She’s innocent. I swear it.”
“And why the hell should I believe you? Allison, you know how lethal this crap is and you’re protecting a woman who is distributing it! I don’t care if she’s your sister, or even your damn fairy godmother. She’s dealing drugs.”
“She didn’t know what it was! She thought it was candy for the wedding favors Hector Hernandez ordered.”
Allison slumped in the chair, huddled into his suit jacket. It smelled like him, she thought vaguely. Spicy cologne, leather and a unique scent that was Rafael. Having his jacket envelop her should feel stifling and restrictive, but for some odd reason, she found it comforting.
Or maybe it’s simply the fact you don’t want to be nearly half-naked in front of the guy.
Rafe parked a hip on the corner of his desk. She didn’t care for his accusatory look, laced with speculation about what she might be doing.
She saw that same look months ago when he’d coaxed her into spying on the Devil’s Patrol.
Allison had a bad feeling about this.
“Your sister is innocent. So you say.”
“Shish kebabs on a sidecar, Rafael. Leave her alone. You have no evidence she actually left the candy there or that she knew or didn’t know it was a drug.”
“Shish kebabs on a sidecar?” His mouth quirked upward.
“My new swear phrase. I’m trying to give up profanity. As I was saying, you need probable cause. You have nothing to go on.”
“Probable cause? Been watching a lot of crime television?”
“One of my former patients was an assistant state attorney. Speaking of lawyers, I need one if you’re going to hold me here.”
His phone rang. Rafe picked up the receiver, listened, and hung up. He looked at her.
“Lab results are in. There were only trace amounts of fentanyl. The pills are mainly candy.”
She let out a relieved sigh. “You can’t hold me for trace amounts.”
“I could keep you here, but I believe you’re innocent.”
Allison sighed with relief.
“But I’m going to bring your sister in for questioning.”
Allison stared. “You can’t do that.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I can.”
Questioning Di would agitate her sister, possibly worse. Allison knew this could go south fast.
“Please don’t. Di is innocent.”
He drummed his fingers on the desk. “Your sister...she’s marrying Paul Davis, Hernandez’s nephew. Wedding’s at Hernandez’s mansion on Starfish Island.”
“How do you know...?”
“I imagine you’ll be in the bridal party. And you’ve met the groom’s uncle as well, maybe even have been there to the mansion a time or two to see the grounds and where the ceremony will take place.”
Allison shot up in her chair so fast, the jacket tumbled off her shoulders. “Oh no, oh hell no. I know where you’re going with this...”
Rafe stood and went behind her, placing the jacket back on her shoulders. “Then you know I won’t take no for an answer.”
“I am not getting you an invitation to that wedding!”
He stood in front of her once more, and his smile resembled that of a Cheshire cat. A lean-hipped, trim cat with intense dark eyes, and sexier than any man had the right to be when questioning, no, grilling, a suspect.
“A wedding invitation? No, my dear Ms. Lexington. Far from it. You and your lovely sister are going to get me onto Starfish Island and into that house where she got the ‘candy’ before the wedding. Tomorrow, in fact. Tomorrow will suit me fine.”