Chapter Eight
When the words started running together on the report he was reading, Nico got up from his desk and stretched. It didn’t help with the fuzzy brain or his tight, aching muscles.
Probably only a good night’s sleep would remedy that.
But he couldn’t see that happening. Not until he had worked out the puzzle of The Fixer’s identity and neutralized him. As long as The Fixer was around, then Seth wasn’t safe.
Hell, neither was Callie nor him.
This sonofabitch had only included Nico in his threat, but he’d likely take out Callie, too, in case she knew anything that could reveal his identity.
“Forty-eight hours,” Nico muttered, walking out of his office and heading to his kitchen.
That’d been the deadline The Fixer had given him to find Seth, but over twelve of that had already been eaten up since it was past midnight. So, thirty-six hours then. It might be enough time if he was truly trying to find Seth and eliminate him. But he wasn’t. Which meant he needed to continue using those hours to try to make sure a) the witness stayed safe and b) no one other than bad guys got killed.
So far, Nico didn’t know how to accomplish either of those things.
He had gone back through every shred of data linked to the dark web account The Fixer had used. Ditto for studying the recorded phone call and for using every means available to try to trace the location of the caller.
And he had nothing.
Along with the research, Nico had put out feelers to his informants and the handful of fellow agents that he was certain he could trust, but none of them had a shred of info that would help him ID The Fixer. So, he was left with either waiting for a confrontation with the asshole or trying to set some kind of trap. A trap which would almost certainly lead to an attempt to kill him. Probably Callie, too.
He couldn’t go to his handler with this. Not when he wasn’t even sure he could trust Yancy. So, Nico had approached it from a different angle. One where he’d searched for a link between Yancy and the dead woman, Abilene. Then, he’d looked for a connection between Yancy and Estie. Or anyone else connected to this case. He hadn’t found anything, including a family member or loved one that The Fixer could be using to force Yancy into doing something illegal. So, if Yancy had gone dirty, he had covered his tracks well.
Groaning in frustration under his breath, Nico went to the fridge to grab a source of cold caffeine, and he tried not to make a sound while he did that. Unlike him, Callie was sleeping.
Well, hopefully she was anyway.
After they’d left the police station and come to his place, they had put in some hours going over the report and evidence. However, after much yawning and practically drifting off in his office, she had finally gone to the guestroom. Nico had heard her shower and then silence. So, maybe she’d actually gotten in bed and fallen asleep.
He'd attempted something similar in his own bedroom suite. A shower, followed by a cat nap, followed by being wide awake and restless. That was in part because of the threats to their lives, but if he was being honest with himself, the bigger distraction was Callie.
She had been just across the hall.
And his body hadn’t let him forget that.
Callie and he had way too many memories to keep him stirred up, and he’d had to order himself to not head to her room and knock on her door. She hadn’t needed that. Hadn’t needed him, only the sleep.
He took out a Coke, downed some of it, hoping for a quick caffeine hit. It didn’t happen, but he heard something that gave his pulse a jolt.
Footsteps.
A moment later, Callie appeared.
Since she hadn’t had PJs in her go-bag, she was wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers. They looked damn good on her. So did her tousled hair and her amazing face. What didn’t look good was the fatigue he saw in her eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep,” she muttered. She had her phone in one hand and a laptop in the other, both of which she placed on the counter. “Bad dreams.”
He wanted to go to her, to pull her into his arms and try to comfort her. But that was the very definition of playing with fire.
“Dreams about the attack?” he asked.
Callie shook her head and leaned her back against the counter so that she was still facing him. She also took his Coke and had a sip. “Of something that happened when I was on the job in SAPD.” She paused, had more Coke and then handed the can back to him. “Five months ago, my partner was killed in a shootout. We’d been a team for three years so it…gutted me.”
Hell. No way was he not going to respond to that. He could hear the pain in her voice and figured the latest attack had triggered flashbacks from hell over losing her partner.
Nico went to her, set the Coke aside, and he pulled her into his arms. It surprised him when she didn’t step away from him. Surprised him even more when she moved even closer to him.
Body to body.
Breath to breath.
And he got a motherload of memories, too. Not of the nightmare ones Callie had no doubt experienced in that dream. Nope. His memories were of the hot sex variety with Callie.
“Losing my partner was one of the reasons I jumped at the deputy position here when Owen offered it,” she added, and her words brushed against his neck.
“Do you regret it?” he asked, forcing his mind on anything but the way she settled against him. Like pieces of a perfectly fitting puzzle.
“No.” Now, she pulled back only far enough to meet his gaze. “Even with the murder. Even with the attack. Because I know those things will get resolved. We’ll find The Fixer and stop him.”
That faith in him confused him. And left him in awe.
“So, you don’t consider me a total loser?” he came out and asked.
The corner of her mouth almost lifted in a smile. Almost. “I hope you’re incredible at your job. The best of the best. Because I don’t want that witness, us or anyone else dead.”
He wanted that, too, and maybe he could live up to her expectations.
What he couldn’t do was continue to resist her. Not with her pressed against him like this. So, Nico did something incredibly stupid.
He kissed her.
Just a touch of his mouth to hers. At first anyway. He might have had the willpower to leave it at that if she’d protested. But she didn’t. The sound she made was a silky moan. One filled with a boatload of pleasure.
Nico got that kick of pleasure, too, and he deepened the kiss. Tasting her. And letting that taste and the feel of her slide through every part of his body.
Man, he wanted her. Not just this kiss. But he wanted her . And that need came through loud and clear.
The kiss got even deeper, and he pulled her as close to him as he could. Still, she didn’t resist. Callie hooked her arms around his neck and gave as good as she got.
It was always like this with them. The quickfire heat. That urgency to take more, more, more. And that more would lead them straight into sex.
Sex, which would be amazing.
But would also be a distraction.
Added to that, Nico was reasonably sure that if they landed in bed now, Callie would regret it. He didn’t want that. When and if they ended up having sex, he didn’t want her to have any doubts.
And that’s why he pulled back.
Nico had to see her eyes. Had to gauge what she was feeling. The heat was there, of course. Both of their bodies were practically vibrating with it. But there was also that hesitation. That doubt.
“Unicorn,” he muttered, their safe word for stop.
It got the intended reaction. She smiled. And, man, that was good to see. Both a relief and a spirit lifter. He hadn’t ruined things between them by launching into the kiss.
Of course, other things might ruin it, especially if he couldn’t stop The Fixer.
Gathering her breath, she stepped back from him, picked up his Coke again and drank it as if she’d just had a long trek across the desert.
That kiss had obviously broken down some old barriers, and Nico figured that was the reason he wanted the air fully cleared between them. So, he had to go back through memories of a different kind. Definitely not sex. But memories linked with Callie.
“Remember when you saw me with the militia guy eleven years ago?” he asked but then waved that off. “Of course, you remember.”
“Of course,” she verified, and he could tell that even now she was hurt from that. Hurt from what he’d done.
Yes, Callie knew, now, that he’d been working for the FBI, but she hadn’t known it then, and you couldn’t just use a magic wand to make those feelings disappear.
“The militia guy had come to me,” Nico explained. “Because of my father. Because he thought I was like the Rattler. I listened to the deal he proposed. He didn’t give me a lot of details, but I got the gist of it. And it would have involved…you.”
“Me?” she questioned.
“You and women like you. Beautiful and young.” He paused to tamp down the rage he still felt over what the militia had had in mind. “The asshole intended on entrapping you and some of the other college students. Drugging you and using you in the sex trade.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Why would he have thought you would go along with something like that?”
“Because he had some dirt on my father. Dirt that maybe would have sent him to prison. As you know, I had a love-hate relationship with my father back then, and if it’d been just him, I probably would have let the asshole lock my dad away. But my mother was alive, and she’d just found out she had cancer. I didn’t want to add to that by taking away her husband, the man she loved.”
“She did love him,” Callie murmured.
Nico nodded and nudged away the memories of losing her. Especially since he’d only recently learned that she had been murdered with an overdose of pain meds. Her killer was dead, but that was yet something else that a magic wand couldn’t eliminate.
“So, I went to the cops,” Nico went on. “And they hooked me up with the FBI, who had apparently been monitoring this particular militia. They asked me to do a sting operation.” He paused again. “I thought it would be over in days, but it lasted months. Hell, nearly a year.”
“A year,” Callie repeated. “And you didn’t think you could trust me with the truth?”
Ah, that was the million-dollar question. One that had ripped him to shreds. “The FBI swore me to secrecy. But that’s not why I didn’t tell you,” he added. “I wanted you away from me. Away from the reach of the militia.”
He didn’t spell out the rest. But Callie apparently had no trouble filling in the blanks.
“You made a deal with the militia while you were pretending to be one of them,” she said. “They weren’t allowed to come after me.”
Nico nodded, and he was amazed at how relieved he felt that she finally knew the truth. He’d been twenty-three and had been walking a very fine, very dangerous tightrope with the FBI, the militia, his parents, and Callie.
“It mostly worked out in the end,” Nico added. “But, you and I, we were the casualty. No way could I go back to you after a year and confess all. Besides, by then the FBI had fully recruited me, and I was on my way to some training and my next undercover assignment. You had moved on with that lawyer.”
She winced. “You knew about him.”
“I knew about him.” In fact, he’d done a full FBI background on him. And had found nothing other than the fact he had been squeaky clean and somewhat boring. “I was jealous. A raging case of jealousy,” he admitted. “But not surprised that you went for someone the complete opposite of me.”
“It didn’t last,” Callie admitted. It looked as if she might add to that. Might even say it hadn’t lasted because the guy hadn’t been him.
But Nico figured that was wishful thinking on his part.
He wasn’t the love of Callie’s life. Even if that’s what he wanted to be. The best he could hope for in that department was to get another chance with her. A chance, though, that couldn’t start until this investigation was over.
Her phone rang, cutting through the silence that had settled between them. “It’s Declan Brodie, one of the deputies,” she said, frowning, and she checked the time. Definitely not an hour for someone to be calling with good news. “Callie,” she answered, putting it on speaker.
“Someone just called here at the station and asked to speak to you. He says his name is Tucker Langston.”
Nico saw the surprise that skirted across her face and was certain it was on his expression, too. “Tucker Langston,” she repeated. “There’s an APB out on him.”
“There is,” Declan confirmed. “And that’s the reason I’ve put a tracer on his call. I also asked him where he was, but he insisted that he’d only talk to you or Nico Salvetti. I don’t want to give him your number, but I can have the call transferred through dispatch to your phone.”
“Do that,” Callie was quick to say. “I’ll keep him on the line as long as possible,” she added, no doubt so Declan would stand a better chance with the trace.
“Stand by,” Declan instructed.
Callie looked at him, the confusion now replacing the surprise. Nico had to shake his head. He had no idea why Tucker would be calling them, but Nico was damn glad he had.
There was a slight crackling sound on the line, and a moment later, Nico heard the man say, “Is Nico Salvetti with you, Deputy Brandon?”
“Who is this?” Callie asked, clearly dodging the question.
“Tucker Langston,” he snapped. “And don’t bother asking me where I am or demanding that I turn myself in like the other cop did. Tracing this call won’t work either because I’m using a burner that I’ll destroy the moment I’m done talking with you.”
So, the man was taking precautions. And killing. Well, maybe he was.
“This is Nico Salvetti. Did you murder Ted Morrelli?” Nico came out and asked. “And who’s the bald asshole driving your truck who tried to kill Deputy Brandon and me?”
“The bald guy stole my truck. I think he did that to set me up for…some shit.” He stopped, cursed. “I don’t want to get into any of that over the phone. I want us to meet. A truce of sorts.”
“You mean a trap,” Nico responded.
“That’s a risk you’ll have to take if you decide to meet with me. Here’s my bottom line—I want Seth safe, and I’ll do anything to make that happen. Anything . That includes making a deal with the devil himself. And in case you missed that, you’re the devil, Mr. Salvetti. You, too, Deputy Brandon, if you’re helping your former lover. You want to kill my friend for money, and I want the chance to convince you otherwise that it’s something you shouldn’t do.”
Yeah, a trap. Nico couldn’t see another reason for this clown wanting a face to face. But that didn’t mean Nico couldn’t set his own trap.
“When and where do you want this meeting?” Nico asked Tucker.
“I’ll get back to you on that. Give me your number,” Tucker ordered. “I don’t want to call through the cop shop the next time we speak.”
Since his phone couldn’t be traced through the usual channels, Nico rattled off the number.
“I’ll be in touch,” Tucker immediately said a split-second before he ended the call.