Chapter 17
Seventeen
Cam did a double take as Abby punched the elevator button for the fortieth floor. “Aren’t we on forty-five?” He’d only been to Becca’s base of operations once, but he distinctly remembered being forty-five floors up.
It was the right move. Change locations after another near bust but stay close to their target.
There were fifty-plus other floors in this building to choose from.
Becca’s crew wasn’t one of the best for no reason.
Granted, things had gone sideways on this particular job, but Cam attributed that to his agency’s interference and Kristi?. Man clearly had trust issues.
Abby clicking her rings dragged Cam out of his thoughts.
She stood in the far corner, jittery and nervous.
“Hey,” Cam said, sliding along the rail over next to her.
“I can push the red button right now, call security, and have them turn this cab around. I’ll tell Becca I lost you last night and I sent that text from your phone. You don’t have to do this.”
He’d laid out the game plan to Abby this morning, carefully stepping around his rogue contingency and his suspicion about Kristi?.
He needed both to register as real surprise with Abby if he had to use them.
He’d given her the option to bail, multiple times, but she wanted to see this through.
He wasn’t surprised she hesitated now. Most sane people would.
“I do,” she said quietly. “A woman died.”
Cam laid a hand over hers, stopping their restless motion. “You tried to stop that. You went to Nic.”
She sucked in a deep breath, then lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. “I don’t want anyone else to die. That’s why I have to do this.”
Under different circumstances, if Abby weren’t a source, if she weren’t the kidnap victim he was sent to rescue, and if Cam had never met Dominic Price, he’d probably try to charm a date out of her.
He liked Abby. She had spunk, a good heart, and no denying she was beautiful.
Even more so as she straightened her spine, let loose her hair, and fluffed out her curls.
Game face on, she gave him a nod as the elevator doors opened.
“After you.” He followed her out, she hooked her elbow around his, and they walked arm-and-arm to Unit 4042.
Abby knocked on the door, a pattern of short and long raps to announce her arrival.
The peephole darkened, someone peering through it, then after several clicks of a lock, Russ opened the door.
The bruiser stopped them in the shadowed foyer for pat downs, checking for any weapons or wires.
“I take it we’re in the right place,” Cam said.
Ignoring him, Russ called, “They’re clear,” over his shoulder, and Becca replied with an “In here” from around the corner.
If the layout was the same as the condo upstairs, the foyer led to a parlor of sorts with a grand view of the Bay.
To the parlor’s left was an open-plan kitchen and living area, and to the right, a hallway to bedrooms and bathrooms.
Cam and Abby started forward, Cam’s hand at her lower back. As soon as they hit the opening of the foyer, they were separated. Abby was pushed forward, yelping, while Jared jumped him, wrenching his right arm back and forcing him down. Russ was on him the next instant, knee to his back.
Despite the blinding pain in his arm, the same one grazed last night, Cam could have thrown them off. Scrapping had never been a problem for him, even less so once he’d been professionally trained, but Becca’s gun trained on a shaking Abby guaranteed his compliance.
“You’re going to answer my questions,” Becca said. “And you’re going to tell me the truth or I’ll put a bullet in her head.”
“She’s your girlfriend,” he replied, appealing to that part of Becca he thought might have genuine feelings for the other woman.
Becca ignored the comment. Maybe she didn’t after all. “Near as I can tell, things started to go sideways when you entered the picture.”
“Hey, I replaced your old B&E guy. Near as I can tell, things were fucked before I got here.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Becca pressed the gun’s muzzle against Abby’s temple. “Maybe she’s the one throwing curveballs.”
“Or your boss,” Cam countered. “Was that him you called from the museum?”
She dodged his question, asking Abby, “Where’d you go last night?”
“A house on the coast,” Abby replied, voice trembling yet eyes dry, doing her damnedest to hold it together despite the betrayal that had to be coursing through her.
“A buddy of mine’s place in Half Moon Bay,” Cam said, trying to draw Becca’s attention off Abby. “He was out of town. No one saw us.”
“How’d you get back here?”
“Boosted a car.”
“The same one from last night?”
“I’m not a fucking amateur,” he sniped back. “I ditched the one from the city in San Mateo. Boosted a second and drove over the mountain to the beach. Ditched that one and stole a third this morning.”
“Describe them,” she demanded as they moved into the living area.
He rattled off specs, ones he pulled from his memory as easily as he put one foot in front of the other. Convinced, for now, Becca nodded and the bruisers let him up. Becca dropped her arm, and Abby bolted over to him.
“Ooh,” Becca said, voice dropping into a lower register. Less severe, more interested. “Did someone have fun last night? You’re supposed to share, baby.”
“What’s the plan now?” Cam said, redirecting the conversation again.
Becca grabbed a still smoking joint from an ashtray and tucked herself into the far corner of a sectional. She waved Abby over, took a long draw on the joint, then held it out, waiting for Abby to take a drag. Becca beckoned him to the cushion on her other side. “You’re going to prove who you are.”
He relied on his charm, hoping to avoid crime.
“What is it you want me to do, sweetheart?” He reached for the joint, but Becca offered him her mouth instead, inviting him to shotgun the hit.
Smoke seeped out from between their lips as they kissed, and there was nothing sweet about the pungent smell.
It reeked, made his stomach churn with disgust, an accurate reflection of his tortured conscience.
Yes, this was still his cover, but after sharing last night with Nic, everything about this felt wrong.
He clutched at that feeling, at the rope keeping him tied to Nic and Agent Byrne, even as Becca pulled Abby onto her lap, shotgunning another drag with her, then waiting for Cam and Abby to do the same.
Cam clawed at the rope tighter. He hated using Abby like this, hated manipulating the genuine interest he felt in her kiss and in her gentle hands last night.
“You got some of that last night?” Becca asked when they parted.
“Not enough,” Abby said, her eyes dark green.
“You’ll have to wait for more.” She shifted Abby off her lap, back to her other side. “Brady here has a safe to break into first.”
Crime it was, then. “Didn’t I already pass your trial run?” he asked, stalling. Not because he didn’t want to do it. Charm had been leading him down a worse path. No, he stalled because if he were in Becca’s position, he’d demand a reaffirmation of loyalty too.
“I want to know if you’re willing to steal from the FBI.”
He forced himself not to jerk. “The FBI?”
She nodded toward the bedrooms down the hall. “Assistant Director Moore’s safe is in the primary.”
He snagged the joint from her, taking another drag to hide his surprise. “This is his place?” Swanky local digs for their regional assistant director who hopped between here and the North Coast. “Nice work getting in here,” he said, assuming Moore had better than decent security.
“Know the building manager,” Becca said with a wink.
“Cheater.” He winked back. Standing, he retrieved the bag he’d dropped on his way in and headed down the hallway, Jared and Russ on his heels.
He found the relatively basic safe in the primary and knelt in front of the lock, getting it open in short order.
He’d have to talk to Moore about that next time the AD was in the office.
He reached inside, expecting stacks of cash or jewelry, something a high-profile heist crew would be after, and drew out three flash drives instead. He palmed the plastic and returned to the living room, flopping down on the couch. “Flash drives?” he said, handing them to Becca.
“That’s what my client was after.”
Not Kristi?, Cam realized. “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket. Smart.”
He reached for the joint again, but Becca held it out of reach. “Also smart because I like to know who’s working for me.”
Cam’s stomach sank, another realization dawning. Becca knew.
“Yes,” came a polished, assertive Serbian voice from down the bedroom hallway.
A voice Cam recognized from last night and a week ago. Whipping around, he confirmed his suspicions, Stefan Kristi? standing in the parlor.
“Tell us, Agent Byrne. How far is an FBI agent willing to go?”
There was no time for surprise, no time for panic. Cam had to put his contingency plan into play right this instant. He leaned back into the cushions, playing it cool. “What is it you think you know about me?”
“Cameron Patrick Byrne. Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the San Francisco FBI field office,” Kristi? rattled off, and Becca’s eyes grew wide. He must not have told her everything. “One of the Bureau’s best kidnap and rescue agents.”
“The best,” he corrected, which was why he’d do everything he could to get Abby out of this alive, including playing the turncoat.
“Recently moved to the Bay Area from Boston for the ASAC job, working with his best friend’s husband,” Kristi? carried on. “Big Irish family back in Boston.”
Cam glanced over his shoulder at Becca. “Didn’t lie about that one.”
“Three brothers,” Kristi? said.
Cam swung his gaze back around. “And a sister.” Kristi? paused, tilting his head. “Didn’t look back far enough, did you?”
“I only just realized it was you who was Brady last night.”