Chapter 28 #2
Texas mirrored my response, picking up his phone.
Didn’t see that coming. “You calling Momma?”
“Nah, texting an associate to let him know you done breached my cover house. I’m undercover FBI. Congratulations, Wash.”
I shut my eyes, assessing the cognac’s quality. Was this stuff that good? Was it drugged? Because what I heard … “Federal recipient of what service?
“Fool! I’m not on welfare. I’m a special agent with the FBI.”
I laughed so hard my stomach begged for some red beans and rice. My body was saying, Bruh, we’ve exerted enough energy on Maddy, now you wanna laugh too? Have several roast beef po’boys and stop.
Texas retrieved his drink, knocked it back in one go, and sighed. “Bébé, that felt good.”
“What felt good?”
“Telling the truth. I’ve been FBI for years.”
My head tilted, more confused than a golden retriever.
“You sure you aren’t a confidential informant after your whole stint in juvey?
” I ran a hand over my smooth head. “Texas, you don’t have enough discipline to be a meter maid.
Witness Protection seems appropriate with all the bull you’ve pulled.
You’re telling me you’re FBI? Federal Bureau of Investigation. ”
“Bruh, I’m in deep cover.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if his lifestyle were giving him a migraine.
“Why did you take my money?”
“You know how much a special agent makes? Besides, I told you it wasn’t necessary.
You insisted.” He poured us both another round.
“This cognac came from a friend I made in the Hamptons working another case. On that one, my team and the ATF confiscated half a bil’ in ammo.
Before then, I come and go. You know how y’all haven’t always been able to reach me. ”
“It’s been a trend.” Montana hadn’t known that though until recently.
“Quantico first.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Different missions send me all over. Got a sting op scheduled.”
“You’re doing that?”
“Nah, setting it up.”
I breathed relief. My baby brother had to stay safe. Damn. That meant I trusted what he’d alleged.
“Wash, I engineered this whole setup with a big-time developer. Dude’s gonna make national news by Sunday.
But I’m not blowing my cover when the fireworks start.
We’re keeping my alias airtight even though it’s my last undercover op.
” A tiny, involuntary spark lit his entire face as he chuckled under his breath. “Probably,” he added.
“Maybe one more,” he said. This time he tried to smother a grin with his hand over his jaw. “Yeah. One more op. Then I’m taking a desk job nobody knows about. You feel me?” He glared at me.
“I won’t snitch.” I waved him off, focused on this chameleon’s sparkly layer. “You’re too excited. Is this last assignment undercover?”
“Yep.” Texas rubbed his palms on his thighs. “Serial killer case. The director wants a New Orleans native for authenticity. I’m considering it.”
“Y’all after the Newlywed Neck Snatcher?” I raised my brow. The media had dropped that name on the news during our ride home.
He grinned.
I blinked, trying to read the sparks flying off his grin. “Texas, you’re … actually excited about this?” My question came out slowly, as if to convince myself that he wasn’t mentally unstable. Or … was the serial killer and not a fed.
As he poured himself another drink, I raised an eyebrow. “Bruhhh, pardon. You’re pumped because you get to stop a murderer, not because your FBI instincts make you a little murderous sometimes?” Which made sense. He’d always been calm. Too calm. When he wasn’t? Dude was sneaky or hostile.
After a moment, Texas posted up in his chair. “I done told you too much, lemme make this clear for you.”
Please don’t.
“I’ma be the fiancé of a certain fine honey.
Special Agent Nalah Cameron is in the Behavior Analysis Unit.
We met during training in Quantico. I’m waiting to see if she’ll join.
Be my undercover bride. Me and my bébé got history, and this is the way to get her back on Team Tex. Momma would love that.”
“No! Momma would see through all the fakery. And you don’t want to force a woman to want you. Trust me.”
“Relax.”
That spark almost died. It seemed history might be the key word here. “What if she dies, Tex?”
“Over my dead body!” He snatched the cognac off the surface of the coffee table, then stowed it in the cabinet.
“Listen.” He looked at me, eyes hollow. “Aside from trying to make things right with Nalah, I need a chance. I’ve broken bread with too many criminals.
I haven’t always made Momma proud. Besides, who wants to be a big lie their whole life, big brotha? ”
I swallowed hard. That line hit different. “Don’t get in too deep, Tex.”
“Thanks.” He stood up. “It’s pushing seven. Construction starts early, and I can’t be late. It ain’t a good look, even if I sit around, eating and telling people what to do. Listen, I’ma be honest. Tell you something I shouldn’t.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Watch Maddy.”
My head tilted, I sat there staring at him.
“ACT.” He cleared his throat. “Our Art Crime Team is surveilling her connect, Omari Harris.”
“Harris? Dude’s name is Omari Riche.”
“That’s what y’all think.”