Chapter 8
Chapter 8
O f course, they had to get back to reality. And as Adrien lay by Vicky, staring up at the ceiling, just stroking her hair as her head rested against his chest, he knew reality was coming on fast.
He was about to say they had to rise, but Vicky beat him to it.
She pushed up on an elbow and looked at him. “I’m heading back to the shower. I promise not to scream. Honestly, I’m not afraid of a ringneck. I know the poor little thing is harmless . . . it just startled me.”
“Naw,” he teased. “You screamed because you didn’t know how to invite me in.”
She laughed, unoffended. “I really was startled, though the last might be true, as well. I don’t . . . I just don’t do things like this.”
He leaned on an elbow, as well. “Believe it or not, I don’t do things like this, either.”
“Maybe we both knew that although we don’t—it was inevitable?” she asked. She shook her head. “I’m serious. I’m taking a real shower, and you’re not invited.”
“Let’s go back a bunch of hours. Meet in the living room,” he said. He stood up and hurried out of the room, not looking back.
Twenty minutes later, they did meet in the living room. “What about food?” Adrien asked.
“Oh, that stuff most people eat on a regular basis?” she asked. “I really did want to see the dogs. Do you think—”
“Power bars,” Adrien said, heading to the kitchen. He produced a few boxes for her to choose from, and she found something with caramel and nuts, and chose one. He took several from the box. She looked at him.
“What?” he asked. “You made me use up all my energy.”
“All your energy?”
“Well,” he said with a shrug, “a lot of it. Come on. I’ll take you to the dogs.”
Vicky was fascinated and touched when Blue came right to her.
“This is a great puppy!” she said.
“Not a puppy.”
“Okay, okay. Great dog!”
Within a minute, seeing the attention Blue was getting, the other dogs—old rescues and new—were wedging around her and wagging their tails. She looked around the kennel, shaking her head. “Your family is amazing!” she said. “Dog beds, a kennel, but like a home—not a bunch of cages. These guys are lucky when your family rescues them.”
“They’re able to get a lot of them into their forever homes. I think I mentioned that before. Yeah, they’re good people. Do you want to meet Shiloh?”
“What’s our time?”
“We have another thirty minutes.”
“Sure. Are there treats out here? I’d like to—”
“Are there dog treats? What do you think?”
He walked to a cabinet in the kennel and came back to her with a bag of the soft treats Mandy liked to give the dogs. Vicky passed them on to each of the eleven different dogs in the kennel, and he got her out at last.
The night was beautiful as they walked to the paddocks that surrounded the stalls. The moon was out and nearly full. His brother kept enough lights on over the property for movement, but nothing glaring that detracted from the simple beauty of the sky.
Chaparral was at the fence, ready to have his nose rubbed.
“Amazing animal,” Vicky said.
“Thanks!” he told her.
“Not you, the horse!”
“I was thanking you for him,” Adrien told her. “Now . . .”
He let out a whistle. A minute later, Shiloh came trotting to the fence, also ready to receive some affection.
“Shiloh, meet Vicky. Vicky, meet Shiloh.”
“Beautiful!” Vicky murmured.
The horse was a beauty. Perfectly proportioned, a sleek bay in color.
“They’re so . . . like dogs! I mean, they know you. They come to you not just for food or treats, but because they’re so . . .”
“Most mammals like affection and respond to it when it’s given to them,” Adrien said. “Anyway, it’s time that we head in.”
Vicky nodded. “You know, it’s so odd! I was angry at first that Eames told us to go home. I thought since we’d done so much of the work, we should get to be the ones questioning our arrestees—finding out more about this massive ring Andrei Hasani has going on in the state—but now . . .”
“Now? We’re relaxed, and it would be nice to forget it all.”
She grinned. “You did relax me. But, yeah, come on.”
“Right. Oh, wait!”
He saw that Old Mac was in the paddock, walking toward them. He walked like a much younger man, with ease and confidence. His hair and beard were both thick and rich, snow-white and long, and he loved to play Santa Claus at Christmas—all he needed was the suit, he liked to tease.
“Hey, Mac!” Adrien said in greeting.
“Hey, there, young fella!” he called, coming up between the horses and smiling at Adrien and Vicky over the fence. “And you, young lady. I’ll be happy to make your acquaintance, you know, once Adrien gets around to introducing us!”
“This is Detective Vicky Henderson, Mac. Vicky, Mac, or more properly, Victor MacCoy.”
“Mac, nice to meet you,” Vicky said. “This is an amazing place!”
“It is. I’m grateful to be here. So . . . detective? Not agent?” he asked, looking from Adrien to Vicky.
“I’m with the sheriff’s office,” Vicky supplied.
“Ah, nice. Local!” Mac said. He looked at Adrien, and Adrien shook his head, because he knew what was coming.
“I sure hope we see more of you, young lady. Every time this boy comes home, I’m hoping it will be with a bride! He isn’t getting any younger, you know.”
“Mac, I’m thirty-three.”
“Old enough to be married with young’uns!” Mac told him.
“Vicky and I have been on a case together—”
“What? You don’t think I have a TV with news stations back there? Of course, I know all about it. Though why aren’t you standing there telling the reporters that you’re the ones who brought the monster down?” Mac demanded.
“Mac, if I stood in front of cameras, I’d be useless when needed,” Adrien explained. “And Vicky and I just got back—”
“Just?” Mac was grinning. “Several hours ago, I’d say.”
Adrien lowered his head, wincing. But he realized that, at his side, Vicky was laughing. She picked up easily on the conversation.
“Mac, honestly, we both like it when we’re far away from cameras. Adrien is so right. It’s not a good thing if you’re going undercover again for people to have seen your face. That’s one way to get killed quickly.”
“Ah, good point. Well—”
“We’re headed back to work now,” Adrien told him.
“But I am going to come back to go riding!” Vicky assured him.
“I look forward to it. Very pleased to have made your acquaintance,” Mac told her.
“You, too, Mac!” Vicky assured him.
Adrien took her arm and led her from the paddock. “Go, go, go, if we want to get out of here!”
She was still grinning, but they hurried to the car, slipped in quickly, and drove out of the property and onto the main road.
“He’s delightful,” Vicky said. “Mac is delightful.”
“He’s a fixture,” Adrien said, and added, “a good man. A very good man.”
“So, it’s all over media now that the kidnappers have been caught. We should have watched the news ourselves,” Vicky murmured.
“We can catch up at the station.”
Vicky nodded. “Yeah. If I know Eames, he did the talking himself. He spent years in the field, but he feels his talent now is organizing, especially when several agencies are involved. And he is good as a coordinator. He knows his people, our strengths—and our weaknesses. But he also feels the same way that you do—better to keep the people in the field out of the limelight. That way, if there’s a danger from someone out there with a vendetta against law enforcement, it will be to him.”
“He seems like a solid guy.”
“He is. A good boss.”
“And Hank seems great, too.”
“He is. He’s a great partner.”
“And you wound up stuck with me.”
“Quite the different thing,” she assured him, flashing him a smile. “Hank is more big brother than . . . more big brother.”
He laughed. By that time, they’d reached the station. “Who do you want first?” he asked her. “The old guy, the idiot, the woman—”
“The woman is at the hospital.”
“Right.”
“Old guy or idiot?”
“Idiot,” she told him. “I think he’s the easier mark,” she admitted.
“Ah, but I think that old guy might know more.”
“Fair enough. We’ll see, won’t we?” she asked.
“Challenge on!”
They entered the station. It was awkward. The desk sergeant just greeted them, but when they stepped into the squad room, those at their desks broke into applause. Eames stepped forward, also clapping.
“Hey, thanks, but not fair!” Vicky said. “Mike and Lance and Hank aren’t here, nor all the men and women who helped in the field with capturing our foes and bringing medical help where needed. But thank you, thank you!”
“And we have the two men who were bringing an airboat to Andrei Hasani in separate interrogation rooms,” Eames said. “As I promised, no one has talked to them. We’ve left them stewing in the rooms, pacing, the younger guy sobbing now and then . . . the older one punching the table.”
“He’s old; I’m young,” Vicky told him. “But, sir! Has Hank gotten anything at the hospital yet? I mean, we have Andrei Hasani, yes. But from what we’ve seen, Hasani really has a vast network of people out there. He controls them all through each other by threatening family members if those who have fallen into his illegal activities don’t do exactly as he says. We need to know just how far that network extends.”
“By the way, the younger man is Darrell Chase, the older man is Charlie Keets,” Eames told them. “They both have records, petty stuff. Drug bust on Darrell, shoplifting on Charlie Keets.”
“That’s it?” Vicky murmured. “So, are we going to need to let them go soon?”
“Charges could be fought by a good attorney, but we could charge them with aiding and abetting kidnapping and even stretch it to murder. The great thing is the senator’s daughter was Hasani’s prisoner, and she’s awake and aware and ready to go after the man. She knows what he wanted to do with her, and she’s horrified and appalled—and very, very grateful, by the way.”
“We’re just pleased she’s safe,” Vicky murmured.
“And we gave a news conference—”
“We’ve heard,” Adrien said. “And thank you for keeping us out of it.”
“Of course,” Eames said. “So . . . go do your best.”
“I’ll show you the way,” Vicky said.
“I remember from this morning or yesterday or . . . whenever we were here,” Adrien assured her. “But the rooms are next to each other—”
“I’ll be observing both. Hank is at the hospital, by the way. Now there’s more reason for us to have a very heavy presence,” Eames told them.
“Right,” Vicky said. “But shouldn’t Hasani be held at county?”
“Should have been, but they were short a surgeon. He’ll be moved as soon as possible.”
“Thank you!” Vicky told him. She looked at Adrien.
He nodded, and the three of them started down the hallway. Officers in uniform were at the doors to both interrogation rooms, and they nodded to Vicky and Adrien as they went their separate ways, with Eames stepping into the observation room that separated them.
“Mr. Keets,” Adrien said, entering the room and taking a seat at the table and folding his hands before him.
“About time. They’ve had me cooling my heels in here forever. I should have demanded an attorney. I don’t have much money—”
“Your rights were read to you. An attorney would have been provided for you,” Adrien reminded him.
“One of your people,” Keets said dourly.
“A defense attorney looks out for your best interests, Mr. Keets,” Adrien said.
“Like hell. Some cheap trick who squeaked out of law school by a hair and is still a lackey of the state?” Keets demanded sourly. “You have nothing. Nothing to hold me on. They kept telling me they didn’t need to charge me with anything, that they could hold me for twenty-four hours before doing so. But all I did was walk into the Everglades!”
“Mr. Keets, we heard you! You were there to aid and abet a man who was taking part in human trafficking! A man ready to murder—a man who demands his followers murder people when he commands it. I don’t know how many cold cases we’ll be able to put on you, but—”
“What?” Keets demanded, staring at him with concern at last.
“Oh, yes, you didn’t know? Yes, you did. You knew. You were the one not about to leave—because you know exactly what happens to people who don’t obey Hasani.”
“Why didn’t you kill him?” the man demanded, slamming his fist on the table.
Adrien arched a brow to him. “You were trying to save his ass—but you want to know why we didn’t kill him?”
“If what you’re saying is true, I might have had a chance if he’d been dead. But he’s alive! And alive . . .”
“Here’s what is going to save you,” Adrien said, leaning forward. “All the names of all the contacts you know about, everyone who is in his criminal empire.”
Keets sat back. “You should have killed him!”
That time, he said the words in a whisper. “If you had just killed him . . .”
Adrien shook his head. “Our job is to bring in criminals, Mr. Keets. We aren’t judges, or members of juries. Those are the people who decide the punishments that fit the crimes.”
“And people get out of jails and prisons and kill again, and again. Deny that!”
“I’m still not a judge or a member of a jury. I swore an oath to uphold the law.”
“And that oath means more than common sense?” Keets demanded. “You know he’s not just bad—he’s evil. Evil in human form!”
“Mr. Keets, do you want to help me and help yourself?” Adrien demanded.
“Is my name out there? I overheard people talking about a press conference.”
“To the best of my knowledge, no names were given out. The press conference let it be known that the senator’s daughter had been found and that a kidnapping ring had been broken. That’s all.”
“As far as you know!” Keets said.
The door opened, and Eames stepped into the room.
“I gave the conference,” he told Keets. “No names were given out. It was just as Special Agent Anderson just said. And if you know about others involved in kidnapping and murder and you don’t cooperate with us, you’re making everything worse for yourself.”
Keets sat back, crossing his arms over his chest.
“First off, I had nothing to do with killing anyone. I had nothing to do with kidnapping anyone.”
“What is his control over you?” Adrien asked.
Keets let out a long breath. “My wife.”
“Your wife.”
Keets winced. “She was in an automobile accident. Screwed up her back. Our insurance sucks. But she was put on these pills, and then they stopped giving them to her. She would cry and weep and do nothing but lie in bed. She was still in so much pain. Then, they wouldn’t take her at the hospital, and then she went to the county hospital, and they told her to take something over the counter. She was still crying and weeping all the time, and someone told me he knew a guy who could fix it for me. I said I didn’t have any money and . . . he said I didn’t need money. I just needed to be available to help when help was needed. So . . . I started getting pills for her for nothing, and I should have known that the time would come. So anyway, the buddy who told me about the guy who got the pills for me—Hasani—refused to do something. I don’t know what it was. But he said pills weren’t worth what he was being asked to do. The next thing, I heard he was found dead. So . . .”
“Men like Hasani feel they need to make an example of someone—it doesn’t mean they can carry out every threat.”
“So far, he did okay. But . . .”
“Just tell us what you know,” Adrien said quietly. “Your name won’t go out anywhere.”
“We can promise you that,” Eames said quietly.
“I know of Darrell—but you’ve got him in here already. And there were the two guys who, uh, procured for him, but . . .”
“Yeah, we’ve got them, too,” Adrien told him.
“Jeff Nagle and Oscar Benson,” the man said flatly.
“And do you know what they did for him?” Eames asked.
“Drugs. You know, too many people get hooked on that stuff they hand out. I don’t have other names; I do know most of the people he draws in have to do with promising whatever is needed. I can’t tell you what a powerful draw those pills can be!”
“All right,” Eames said.
“So, am I under arrest? I’m worried. My wife—”
“Your wife needs a good rehab,” Adrien said quietly.
“You don’t understand. I was laid off from my job. We don’t have—”
“We can set something up,” Adrien said. “If you’re willing and she’s willing, we can help you out of this.”
“Oh, you won’t get anything out of Darrell. He’s new to all this—and possibly the worst coward known to man. He just got his first ‘fill’ a few days ago. This was the first time he’s been called out—I called him. He’s the one who owns the airboat we were using to get Hasani,” Keets told them.
“All right. I’m going to need a few minutes to process you, and take care of something for your wife,” Eames told the man. “And tonight, we’ll have a protective detail on you.”
Keets looked from Eames to Adrien.
“You . . . you would do that? I mean, protective detail. I’m not under arrest?” he asked, frowning with consternation. “Cops won’t be with me to arrest me again?”
“We’re pretty sure you’re in the clear. You couldn’t have picked up a man who had already been taken down by law enforcement. But we’ll watch over you tonight. But lest you find yourself in trouble again, the kind that does kill you, we’ll see to it your wife does get help,” Adrien explained.
“For real?” Keets whispered, almost as if he were a child.
“For real,” Eames told him.
Adrien stood to follow Eames out.
When the door closed, Adrien asked, “You really do mean to do these things for the man?”
“I do, unless, as the federal agent assigned, you have a problem with my choice. I have found that when we can, we offer help. Then, when law enforcement needs help, we’re a . . .” Eames’s voice faded as he thought of a good way to describe his meaning.
But Vicky had come out of the other interrogation room and smiled.
“He wants people to think of us as warm and cuddly. You get a lot more cooperation when the community is supportive.”
“Makes sense,” Adrien said. “Honestly, I’ve heard the same thing from some of our higher-ups.”
“It’s nothing you two need to worry about. Go home. Night tech can work on the names we were given, and hopefully, each person we can get something from will give us someone else. Then eventually, we’ll get to the bottom of it all. Or we won’t. But with Hasani out of the action, I imagine it will all fall apart rather quickly.”
“We can’t count on that,” Adrien said.
“No, we can’t,” Eames agreed. “And we may never get everyone who has been involved with him in any way. We’ll do our best. Like I said, you’ve put in more than enough hours—”
“Hasani is out of surgery by now. I want to see him,” Vicky said.
“Glutton for punishment. I love it in my detectives,” Eames told Adrien. “Vicky, go on to the hospital if that’s what you want. After that, please, sleep in!”
“Will do, I promise!” Vicky said. She looked at Adrien. “Hospital?” she asked him.
“I’m in all the way,” he assured her.
They started to walk away. but Vicky held back turning to Eames.
“Sir, if anything major happens—”
“I will call you,” Eames promised.
Vicky smiled, and they finally left, laughing, waving, and both echoing, “Thank you!” as they were applauded again on the way out.
“I feel guilty. We couldn’t have pulled this off without Mike, Lance, Hank, and the others,” she murmured again.
“And they couldn’t have pulled it off without us,” Adrien said. “We’re good. Though I was thinking you should maybe give Hank a call. Andrei Hasani is no fool. He has probably already lawyered up and won’t agree to speak with us.”
She tossed him the keys. “Drive. I’ll call Hank.”
She dialed as he put the car into gear.
“Hank, I’m putting the phone on speaker,” she said when he answered.
“Cool. Vicky, huh? Yah! I still have a partner!” Hank said.
She laughed softly. “Yep, you still have a partner. How is it going at the hospital? I believe Hasani must be out of surgery. Have you talked to him? Has anyone tried to speak to him? Did he get a lawyer?”
Hank was silent for just a second.
“Hank?”
“Yeah, honestly, I was hoping you’d just go home. Now Hasani only wants to speak with you, Vicky. His exact words were a play on the old ride at the theme park—‘I want the redhead. ’ He laughed a lot. Amused himself with his own words.”
“But he didn’t insist he wouldn’t talk without an attorney?”
“No, but Vicky—”
“Hank, trust me, the man is wounded. He isn’t going anywhere fast from that hospital bed. And if he hasn’t made a phone call . . . well, we’re all right. As far as I know—”
“Oh, yeah. Cops are on him. They want him transferred to the hospital at county as soon as possible. Oh, the senator’s daughter is gone. They got her out the minute he came in, but then she was really all right. They were just keeping her for observation. She’s with her folks. And her dad hired on a new slew of security, so . . .”
“I really want to talk to him, Hank. We’re on our way there now.”
“I’ll be standing right outside, and if he makes a move—”
“He’s going to be cuffed to the bed—even if half his body is in a cast,” Vicky said. “Seriously, Hank—”
“I know, I know. I just never had to wish you were a brunette before,” Hank said. “See you when you get here.”
Vicky ended the call and looked at Adrien. “So. He will talk. Let’s just hope he’ll say something useful.”
“About his empire?” Adrien asked. “I doubt it. I seriously have tremendous faith in all your abilities, but I don’t think he intends to say a thing. I think he just wants to tease he will—and tease you and promise all kinds of vengeance.” He shrugged. “Obviously, the man has a buyer for redheads.”
“We need to know who that buyer is.”
“And you really think he’s going to tell you?”
“No. But I believe I must try to get him to give something away.”
Adrien smiled. Looking ahead.
“Ah, come on. Eames said I could.”
“Yeah. And he is your superior.”
“But you don’t like it?”
“The man is a monster, and he wants to play. But I also know you.” He flashed her a quick smile. “No, I haven’t known you that long, but our hours have been . . .”
“A few have been intimate,” she said sweetly.
He laughed again. “Delightfully. But I meant I’m coming to know your tenacity and determination. And if you’ve decided you’re going to talk to the man, you are.”
“I do listen to reason,” she said.
“Okay, here’s my reasoning. He doesn’t want to give anyone anything. He finds you appealing, intriguing—and he hates you. He hates that he thought you wouldn’t be an incredibly strong adversary, and you proved him wrong. So . . .”
“And here’s my reasoning. I understand that. He wants to do anything he can to torment me. He’ll tell lies—he’ll make up captives he doesn’t really have. He’ll try to get me to be excited I’m getting somewhere, then shoot me down. And of course, I’m sure he wants to tell me all about the torture he will one day inflict on me. But here’s the thing. He may slip. And there’s one thing we need—information on his ‘buyers’ for the women he made the Trent brothers kidnap. I like to believe Andrei Hasani will never see the light of day—and I believe he will receive life without parole. Of course, prisoners do escape. Friends of mine who are guards tell me that usually when there is an escape, it’s because someone knew someone on the inside—so that’s always a fear. But let’s say he does get max security and is locked away for life. Supply and demand. We need to find out who wanted the redheads.”
“That’s an excellent point. I just don’t think he’s going to spit it all out.”
“Maybe not. Still . . .”
“Guess what?” he asked her.
“What?”
“I don’t think it will be successful, but I agree your plan is something we need to try.”
She smiled at him and nodded grimly. “And don’t worry— sticks and stones could break my bones, you know, but I can deal with a heck of a lot of words!”
“Yeah. I think we all get to that point,” he agreed. “Just know I’ll be outside with Hank—oh, yeah, and all the other cops in the place—if he moves a muscle in the wrong direction.”
She laughed.
“I think I can take him—even without a gun. He’s fresh out of surgery. I’m just not too frightened he can cause me any real harm.”
“I’ll grant you that. Still . . .”
“You and Hank will be there, and I’m grateful!” she assured him.
They reached the hospital. It was long past visiting hours, but they produced their credentials and were immediately allowed to enter.
When they reached Andrei Hasani’s room, they discovered a multitude of officers in the hall including, of course, Hank.
“So, hmm. It’s late, you know,” Hank told them both.
“Ten o’clock,” Vicky said. “We do know how to tell time. Speaking of time—you have a wife and two kids!”
“Yeah, and my wife worries about you more than I do!” Hank reminded her. “Sorry, she worries about everyone. She told me one time it was her part of law enforcement. I’m going home. But I knew you’d show up here, and I wanted to hear what was going on.”
“Are you coming in with me?” Vicky asked him.
“No, I set a mic in the room. Apparently, Dr. Aldridge—the fellow in charge of Hasani’s case until he’s moved—had a prisoner in recovery in Ohio once. There was a crooked nurse on duty, and she managed to get a weapon to him. He almost killed an orderly. Since then, Aldridge discreetly keeps tabs on what is going on. Of course, he assured me, if the man had asked for his lawyer, he would have done the legal thing and gotten it out. But as it stands . . . you can hear what’s going on as if it’s a nearby conversation, even with the door to the room closed.”
“Great. I’m not sure about the morality—”
“Why? Monitoring is important with the man’s condition!” Hank said, shrugging. “It’s not illegal, since Aldridge wants the hospital staff aware of any change in the man’s condition, so . . . oh, and I heard him. He informed the man he was being monitored. He might not have explained how, but . . .”
“All right. It is late. I’m going in.”
Adrien watched her walk into the room and moved to stand about two feet from the bed.
“Ah!” Hasani said. “The redhead!”
“I’m here. So, what have you got to say?” Vicky asked.
Hank nodded silently to Adrien. The man had been right; it wasn’t loud, but standing just outside the room, even with the door closed, he could hear every word being said.
A glass pane in the door had allowed him to see Hasani. And the man was a mess, half of his body bandaged, in a cast, and held in a sling.
But he was suspected of kidnapping, possibly rape, and possibly murder.
His uninjured wrist was cuffed to the bed.
But his face . . .
Strange, Adrien thought again. The guy looked so normal.
As if he could walk into any bar and easily strike up a conversation with just about any young woman who was free. He was intelligent enough to have managed to get away with a great deal for a long time. But the average citizen knew—just as those in law enforcement—that the most evil human being might look like an angel rather than a monster.
“Oh. I wanted you to know I wouldn’t forget you,” Hasani said.
He forgot he was cuffed and reached out a hand as if he wanted to touch her, stroke her face.
Vicky didn’t need to move—the cuff jerked him back.
“Right. Well, your people are being rounded up as we speak, though of course, I did hear there was someone else we’d need to start looking for. You know how gossip runs through jails and all. Seems like there’s going to be a new kid in town without you being in on the action.”
“I am not out of the action!” Hasani snapped. “You just wait. What? You think I don’t have backup?”
She laughed softly. “Your backup turned on you, if rumor stands correct. We have one of your minions—caught up in the middle of the state, actually—talking away. He’s telling us the man you were supplying didn’t give a damn if you rotted in prison forever. He had someone new, and he didn’t need you anymore.”
Rage filled the man’s face.
“You’re a liar!” he said angrily.
She shrugged and turned away. “Okay. I’m a liar. See you in court.”
“Wait!”
“What? I’m bored, and I’m sorry, we really don’t need you. You don’t know anything about the new people working the trade. You’re here already, and we need to move on.”
She kept walking toward the door.
“Wait!”
“What?” Vicky asked impatiently, pausing with a bored sigh.
“That’s my girl!” Hank murmured from outside the door.
“She plays it well,” Adrien agreed.
“What? I’m leaving!” Vicky insisted.
“You want something? You want me to give you something that matters?” Hasani raged. “Forget the small fry. Get Rafael Rodriguez—a Colombian visitor who frequents the Bahamas and manages easy access between here and there and then on back to his home. Oh, but do be careful. He loves redheads even more than I do. Then again, maybe I’d enjoy hearing about it if he did get his hands on you!”
“Hmm. There you go. You did give me something. I guess we’ll go out and get him—before he attempts to help you in any way,” she said sweetly, walking calmly out of the room.
And Hasani went into a true rage as she walked out, screaming and kicking and banging at the cuff that held him chained to the bed.
She walked up to Adrien, smiling. “See? Most narcissists do tend to give it up! Could we go home now, all of us?” she asked, looking from him to Hank.
“Yeah, I think we could all go home,” Hank agreed. “Give me a second with our boys—and girls—in blue.”
As Hank walked away, Adrien smiled at Vicky. “You are good,” he said quietly.
“At everything?” she queried in a whisper.
He moved a step closer and whispered in return.
“Whose home are we going to?” he asked.
She started to laugh.
“Mine. Nice as they be, these are borrowed clothes. Don’t worry, I’m not that far—close enough to get back to wherever we need to be come the morning. But . . . hmm, my cell works here, I just need to call Eames and get him on the lookout across the state and in the Bahamas for this Rafael Rodriguez.”
“Done already,” Hank said, returning to stand by them.
Andrei Hasani was still raging. A confused nurse glanced at them and started into the room.
“Nothing happened to him; I’d let him tire out,” Adrien suggested.
The nurse hesitated.
“Yeah,” she said, smiling and walking away.
“Hey, um, do you want me to drop the cowboy for you, Vicky?” Hank asked.
“No, no, no problem,” Vicky said, looking downward.
And Adrien understood completely.
They’d spent a strange day. They had discovered they were good working together—and discovered a bit more.
But it hadn’t even been a full forty-eight hours since they’d met.
And at this point . . .
Neither of them could know if it was . . . real.