Chapter Eighteen
“First, I have to say, Eddie, that we’re glad to see you sitting across this table,” Landon said sincerely while Zach stood in a corner of the interview room and Shannon and Katie watched in the viewing room.
He was sure that his CHS was nervous after everything that had gone down.
But they needed to know what he knew—and how he’d managed to get out from under a real threat of death that led to three others losing their lives.
“So, tell me why you decided to drop out of sight?”
Eddie ran a hand through his hair, which had grown a bit since before the explosion, and responded matter-of-factly, “After someone planted a bomb on my boat and waited to see me die there, I panicked.” He sucked in a deep breath.
“I wasn’t sure who I could trust—so I bolted to give me some time to think. ”
Landon peered at him and stated unequivocally, “You could trust me. I’ve always been straight with you.” At least to the extent possible without compromising the investigation, he told himself.
“I know.” Eddie sat back. “It was just hard to deal with having a target on my back.”
“I understand.” Landon leaned against the table.
“So, how did you manage to get off your pontoon before it blew up?” he asked curiously.
“Were you tipped off somehow?” Landon couldn’t rule out entirely that there could have been a mole within the Bureau—or from an outside source in the criminal sphere with a vested interest in protecting Ivan Pimentel’s racket in the art world.
Eddie pinched his nose for a beat and then responded straightforwardly, “I saw a man on the dock who I thought I’d seen before—talking with Ivan and Yusef.
Though I tried to duck out of sight, I could swear that he looked right at me.
He walked by my boat harmlessly enough, making me have second thoughts that he was out to get me.
” Eddie sighed. “Still, I had a bad feeling that something was about to go down. I just knew that I needed to get off the boat. You know what happened after that…”
“Yeah.” Landon showed him a photograph of Fred Davenport, unsure just how much Eddie was privy to while being in seclusion. “Is this the man you saw at the marina?”
Eddie took a hard look at the picture and said succinctly, “That’s him.”
“Fred Davenport planted the bomb on your boat,” Landon said and got a reaction from Eddie. “He was killed by Yusef Abercrombie.”
“I heard about that,” Eddie said thoughtfully. “Guess he became expendable too.”
“True. But not before Davenport shot to death an innocent man—mistaking him for you,” Landon told him candidly.
Eddie furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry someone else got swept up in all this,” he muttered.
“Me too.” Landon took a breath. “Unfortunately, it happens. Especially when a hired killer knows no boundaries.”
“So, what now?” Eddie met his gaze. “Am I in trouble for violating our agreement by skipping out on you?”
Normally, Landon might have felt that once a CI had reneged on his or her undercover role, all bets were off regarding any consequences that might be rendered.
But in this instance, running for one’s life was not a crime, in and of itself.
Quite the contrary, anyone might have done the same under similar circumstances, with their back to the wall.
But Eddie had returned—and in one piece.
Then there was the fact that as Raquelle’s brother, Landon couldn’t throw the book at Eddie. Not if he wanted to win her over and chart a course that they could both live with.
“You’re not in trouble, Eddie,” Landon told him and glanced at the video camera and those watching them.
As his own CHS, there was some leeway on how far one could use discretion in the course of an investigation.
“The intel you’ve provided has been, for the most part, useful in the case we’ve built against Pimentel and his cronies.
Now that you’ve been made, I’m not expecting you to go back in—only to be taken out by someone else—with Abercrombie having failed in this endeavor, along with Davenport. ”
“About that…” Eddie reached into the pocket of his shacket.
He pulled out a flash drive. “While still on the inside, I collected as much additional info as I could on stolen genuine Native American artwork and forgeries that Ivan got his hands on—names, dates, photographs, places, profits, deliveries, and more… I hung on to it as an insurance policy—if my life or Raquelle’s was on the line and all else failed… ”
Landon was handed the flash drive. Based on what he’d just heard from Eddie, he suspected that it could well contain enough intel to ensure that in combination with other hard evidence, Pimentel was put away for a very long time.
Being able to tie the crooked art dealer directly to Davenport with Eddie’s eyewitness account was a further reason for optimism that the case against Pimentel was solid.
Unfortunately, it also meant that this gave Ivan Pimentel more motivation for still wanting Eddie dead.
Landon knew this was another major crisis point that would need to be addressed.
* * *
AFTER DISCUSSING THE latest twists in the case with the Art Crime Team and briefing the special agent in charge, Landon headed to Raquelle’s house.
He was happy that she had her brother back—at least for now—and they themselves could move forward in hopefully setting the stage for a future together.
When pulling up to the property, Landon noted the black Mitsubishi Outlander that belonged to Eddie’s bartender friend parked in the driveway. Looks like Raquelle already has company, Landon thought, not too surprisingly, circumstances being as they were.
Raquelle opened the front door as he walked up to it and said softly, “Hey.”
“Hey.” He grinned, happy to see the glow in her beautiful face.
After Landon stepped inside the great room, she told him, “Eddie’s taking a shower. I’ve invited him to stay in one of the guest rooms for now, as his apartment is still in shambles.”
“That’s a good idea,” Landon spoke supportively. “With a great security system, this is a much better bet for Eddie at the moment.” The long term would take more consideration.
“So, how did the interview go?” she asked curiously.
“Good. Eddie laid out the sequence of events that led him to flee and remain at large for as long as he had. All satisfactory, as far as I was concerned.”
Raquelle smiled. “I see.”
He added, “Eddie also handed over some important intel related to the investigation that he obtained while working as my CI, and had held on to for safekeeping, that had been on his boat just before it exploded.”
“Something they were hoping to find when they ransacked his apartment?” she deduced.
“That would be my guess,” he concurred, given the high stakes at play for Ivan Pimentel in his efforts to avoid arrest and prosecution.
Raquelle was thoughtful. “Would you like something to drink?”
Tempting as it sounded, he declined. “I have to get back to the investigation,” Landon said. “Besides, you need to spend some quality time with your brother.” And vice versa, after what Eddie has been put through, he thought.
She started to object but seemed to appreciate the gesture. “All right. Thanks.”
Landon smiled. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay.”
He was about to leave then abruptly turned to face her, knowing that one thing needed to be said here and now. “I love you.”
Raquelle’s eyes lit up. “You do?”
“Yeah,” Landon had no trouble admitting. “I never stopped loving you, in spite of everything that went awry between us.”
She held his gaze for a moment, before stating, “I love you too, Landon.”
He felt a warmth in his heart in that moment that nothing could replace, prompting him to cup Raquelle’s cheeks and plant a quick but decisive kiss on her soft lips.
Then he left, already plotting strategy for what came next.
* * *
RAQUELLE TOUCHED HER mouth that still tingled from the kiss. She truly did love Landon. Hearing that he felt the same way brought her untold joy and a belief that their relationship had taken a big step in the right direction—wherever they landed.
She was seated at the island on a beige faux-leather bucket stool when Eddie came into the kitchen. He was cleanly shaven and wearing a fresh set of clothes.
Raquelle flashed a smile. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He sat beside her.
There was a bottle of beer and plate of store-bought oatmeal-raisin cookies on the counter before him.
“I heard the interview with Landon went well,” Raquelle said, lifting the mug of coffee she’d made for herself.
“Yeah.” Eddie grabbed the beer and drank some. “I’m just glad to finally put everything out on the table and let the chips fall where they may.”
“If all goes well, those chips will fall right on top of Ivan Pimentel’s head,” she stated humorlessly.
Eddie chuckled and lifted a cookie. “Landon seems to believe that.”
“He only wants to solve the case—while minimizing collateral damage.” Meaning harm to you, Raquelle told herself. Beyond what had already occurred.
“I get that.” Eddie ate more of the cookie while regarding her. “So, what’s happening with you two?” He glanced toward the great room, where Landon’s guitar was in its case against the wall. “Looks like Landon’s been spending some time here.”
Raquelle saw no reason to hold back. “Yes, we’ve started seeing each other again.”
Eddie grinned. “Figured as much.” He sipped beer, musing. “Hope it works out this time around.”
“Me too.” She picked up an oatmeal cookie and nibbled on it.
“You deserve to be happy,” he told her. “Both of you.”
“So do you, Eddie,” Raquelle said thoughtfully. “Penelope has been worried about you. We’ve been in touch ever since—”
“I know.” Eddie tilted his face. “I saw you both at the coffee bar.”
She gazed at him. “You were there?”
“Yeah, close enough.” He sighed. “Wanted to reach out, but wasn’t quite ready to at that time.”