Chapter 18 #2
Nic clicked the Beretta’s safety back on, set the weapon atop the briefcase, and stood at the far end of the table. Waiting. Crossing his arms and clutching his biceps, containing the urge to rail. Planting his feet shoulder width apart, fighting the instinct to run to him.
Movement drawing his attention, Cam emerged onto the patio a moment later. “Just listen,” he said, hands raised.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Stopping you from doing something stupid. And if I can’t stop you, being your backup.”
No way, especially to the latter suggestion. “I can’t let you do that.”
“And I can’t let you do something stupid.” Hands still raised, he approached slowly. “Think, Nic. Vaughn’s not going to give you Lette.”
Nic pointed at the briefcase. “I have his money. All of it.”
Cam grasped his wrist, squeezing between him and the table. “And you also have his balls in a vise with the grand jury. What do you think is more important to him? Millions, which he already has, or the future to earn more millions.”
Nic diverted his gaze, cursing the truth. Cam was right. He also couldn’t shake the image of Lette tied to a chair, bleeding from a head wound. “She’s injured.” He thrust his phone at Cam. “And Vaughn’s getting desperate. I can’t not do everything in my power to get her back.”
Cam looked long and hard at the picture.
Maybe he could see more in it than Nic had, worry having fogged his brain.
“It’s consistent with what we found in Morgan Hill,” Cam said, handing the phone back.
“This tells us it’s a head wound. Could be superficial.
” He lifted a hand, tracing the small scar at Nic’s hairline left over from their case in Boston.
“You know as well as I do that they bleed more than others, even if it’s just a scratch. ”
“Or it could be serious. Until we get her back, we won’t know.”
“The money won’t make that happen. It’ll only give Vaughn more leverage. He won’t give Lette back unless you drop the case, which you can’t do.”
“We might not win it.” Nic drew back and collapsed into the chair, head tilted back, staring up at the night sky. “Bowers recommended against it.”
The chair beside him creaked, Cam taking a seat. “Of course he did.”
Nic righted his head, looking into Cam’s dark eyes. They usually brought him comfort, but nothing was getting through the fog of panic that had gripped him since that text had come through. He needed to take action, more than what he was doing. “The Deputy AG wasn’t convinced either.”
“But he’s letting you argue the case tomorrow, yes?”
Nic nodded. “With Bowers there.”
“Good, prove the fucker wrong.” Cam scooted closer and curled a hand over his thigh. “You, Moore, the rest of the FBI have put too much time into this case to let it go. Even if you don’t win, the next person is going to think twice before taking a loan from Vaughn or going into business with him.”
“But we’re not trying this case in public.”
“Word will get out. Everyone will learn he’s been under investigation.”
“But if someone’s desperate enough . . .” Like his father had been. A few bad investments, the economic crash he’d never recovered from, debt and more debt.
“All the more reason to shut him down for good.” Cam nudged the briefcase. “This won’t.”
“I know that.” Nic hunched forward, the weight and pressure of the past week, of the past months, crashing down on him.
Yes, he had Cam and the rest of his family helping him, but he had another family now he needed to protect.
He tangled his fingers with Cam’s, clutching them, desperate for the comfort he couldn’t find. “I can’t let them down again.”
Fingers grasped his chin, Cam gently angling his face toward him. “And I can’t let you down. I won’t let you cut the rope. You made me promise, remember? Let me rescue your sister instead while you nail Vaughn.”
Closing his eyes, Nic buried his face in Cam’s big palm, wanting it to all work out that simply.
There was no one he trusted more to find Lette than Cam nor anyone he trusted more to try Vaughn’s case than himself.
But so many of the other players on the board were wildcards.
He ignored them for the moment, ignored reality, and drew what comfort he could.
It didn’t last for long, Cam’s vibrating phone interrupting the silence. Dropping his hand, Cam pulled it from his pocket, flashed him Lauren’s face on-screen, and activated the speaker. “Hall, what’s up?”
“Vaughn’s not coming.”
“Why not?”
“Cole tracked the sedan you checked out of the pool. He told Vaughn where you were headed.”
“Fuck.”
Nic shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.” Cam had made his argument convincingly. Paying off Vaughn wasn’t the way to rescue Lette. At least now they knew for sure who the mole was inside the FBI. “How’d you confirm it was Cole?”
“I pretended to turn on you.”
Cam lurched forward in his chair, matching Nic’s posture, bent over the phone on the end of the table. “You did what?”
“I know where they’re holding Lette. One of Vaughn’s properties down in Cambria.”
“You did know he was the mole.” Nic let every bit of admiration he had for her color his voice.
“Of course I knew. I was playing him the entire time. I told him I wanted in on some of his share of what Vaughn promised to pay him. Which was the bullshit song and dance he gave me, because we all know he’s up to his eyeballs in hock to Vaughn, like everyone—”
“Lauren,” Cam clipped, cutting off her ramble. “What happened tonight?”
“He wanted to win points with his boss. Told him I’d help divert you.”
“Divert me?”
“From where they’re taking Lette.”
“Nice end around.”
“Thank you,” she said. “And I’ve already called in the tactical team.”
“I’ll be there in twenty.” Cam ended the call and pushed to his feet.
Nic rose beside him. “I’m coming with you.”
“No.” Before he could object, Cam’s hand flattened over his lips, pressing back the argument. “Cambria’s four hours south. No way you’ll make it there and back in time to present to the grand jury tomorrow morning.”
He wrenched his face away and slammed a palm on the table. “She’s my sister, goddammit.”
Cam didn’t back off. He crowded closer instead, backing him up against the table, both hands wrapped around his neck.
Nic fought to get free but Cam held him steady.
“I know, baby,” he said, more gently than Nic deserved.
The de-escalation worked, calming him a measure.
“I know more than most what that means.” Both thumbs scraped over his rough cheeks, the noise loud in the otherwise quiet night.
“You brought my sister back to me. Let me bring yours home to you. I won’t let this be another regret. ”
His lips brushed against Nic’s, sealing a promise Nic knew Cam never liked making. The fact that he would, together with his kiss, wiped away the last of Nic’s arguments.
“Okay,” he breathed before drawing Cam into a deeper kiss, getting a last taste of that certainty, that confidence, to buoy him through the hearing tomorrow, through the hours he’d have to stand by doing nothing.
Standing down was against all his training, but also right in line with it in this instance.
No running to his death or his sister’s.
He had to trust Cam to do his job while he did his in the courtroom.
“I’ll bring her home,” Cam promised again.
Nic needed more than that. He rested his forehead against Cam’s, holding tight while he still could. “Both of you come back to me.”