Peril in the shallows, p.16
Peril in the Shallows, page 16
Was she really willing to put her whole self into something that had disaster written all over it?
She’d never considered herself a woman of half measure, but the situations she went all-in on were ones she could control. Because she only had to depend on herself.
A relationship with Arlo was the very definition of something she couldn’t control.
Arlo pulled up to the valet stand at McNulty’s and she allowed one of the attendants to open her door for her. As she slipped out, she saw Arlo coming around the front.
With a deep breath, she pasted on a smile she didn’t feel and prepared to spend the evening playing the enamored girlfriend to his besotted boyfriend.
If it struck too close to home, she’d have to live with it.
The only sort of romantic relationship she could have with him was one where they both acted like they could have a happily-ever-after.
Because real life wasn’t going to give them one.
* * *
Wendy knew the moment Kerrigan Doyle walked into McNulty’s. She saw it on the bar cameras in her office and she briefly considered putting her plan into motion early.
And then opted to hold back.
It wouldn’t do for Kerrigan to see her so quickly. She knew the woman went to her parents’ home every weekend for dinner. She’d have to come up with a way to accidentally run into her next time she headed to the old neighborhood.
Which meant this evening, she’d watch and refine her strategy instead.
The warehouse shooter had finally reported in, apologizing profusely for the left-behind shell casings, but promising her they were untraceable. He bought them from a supplier in the Midwest and there was no way the cops would make him here.
Wendy doubted that, but she’d allow him his illusions for now. Plus, it was hard to find someone with his skills.
So she’d overlook the evidence he left behind and focus instead on what she wanted out of him next.
Her new boat would be ready on Friday, and she was already lining up a quick score that wouldn’t fully make up for what went down in the harbor, but it would ease some of the financial pressure in the short term. She needed to get product on the streets or risk losing ground to local mafia and a particularly ambitious supplier out of Philadelphia.
She’d come way too far to let that happen.
His sharpshooter skills would come in handy as extra eyes and gun power on the op.
The knock on her door was brisk as Mark “the Tank” Holman walked in.
The dude fit the role of bouncer to a T with broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms, ink up and down the length of them. He also sported an IQ of 180 and an ability to read people that was impressive.
“That woman from the other night. She’s back.”
“Did she see you yet?”
“Nah. I saw her at the valet stand and moved out of her line of sight until she got inside.”
“She with that guy again?”
“Oh, yeah. Rumor has it they’re partners.”
“Which explains why they were together today when we had them followed out of the precinct. Do you think they’re together, too, or casing us tonight?”
“I’m getting vibes on both.”
Hmm. That was interesting. And if she was being fair, she definitely felt the relationship vibes the other night herself. She’d put down a bet they hadn’t had sex yet, but working together was getting them both hot and bothered.
“You told me you thought you scared her the other night.”
“She didn’t like me looking at her.”
“Then do it again. Let’s see if we can get him riled up enough to act.”
* * *
Arlo handed over his credit card to their waitress after she laid down a beer for him and a glass of wine for Kerrigan. The bar had a rollicking crowd, those who’d come in after work still here a few hours later.
Their decibel level had increased with their alcohol consumption and he and Kerrigan had to sit close to talk to each other.
A feat he wasn’t sure was possible after their fight in the car, yet she’d kept up her side of the bargain with steady conversation and the physical cues of someone happily out on a date.
Even if she was still seething inside.
It was scorched earth, so why he kept marching back over it, he had no idea.
Which was a bold-faced lie to the one person he never lied to.
Himself.
He knew damn well why.
Kerrigan Doyle tripped his protector switch, a wildly unsubtle reaction to the bone-deep desire that kept catching him off guard.
He hadn’t once questioned Officer Doyle’s ability to deal with whatever was tossed her way.
But what was happening to Kerrigan?
Hell, those fears clouded his words with unhelpful sentiments and admonitions that she step back from the risks.
“I haven’t seen him yet.”
Her comment had been spoken in a low tone, even though anyone’s ability to hear her from even five feet away was unlikely given the noise level.
“I haven’t, either, but we’ll keep watch for him. In the meantime, who do we think looks like they have information to share? The waitress didn’t even blink when you asked her about how business had been since the drug bust in here.”
“Which was odd, don’t you think? She didn’t even try to shut it down. She just ignored the question outright.”
“I’d say she couldn’t hear you,” he said with a wry smile and a glance at the happy revelers around them, “but I saw it, too. She checked out and she glanced back over here when she got to the bar.”
“She knows something.”
“That’s my guess.”
Even with the fraught moments in the car, they really had rebounded well into their respective roles once inside the bar. It was a trait he admired in her—that ability to keep focus on the work, even if she was dealing with other things.
It was professional and showed a seasoning well beyond her years. It also had him wondering more about the organization now being built from the ground up. What would it take to assess talent? To harness it and grow it and—
“You look like you have an idea.”
“Talent and professionalism. They’re the two biggest things we keep circling around.”
Kerrigan ran her finger around the edge of her glass, stopping a small drop from running down the side. “Crime as a job.”
“For lack of a better description, yes, that exactly.”
“And how’s it relevant here?”
“We keep looking at what’s going on as a talent assessment. Someone’s being groomed and evaluated for their abilities.”
“You have another angle?” She was clearly intrigued, her hand falling away from her glass.
“What if it’s actually a matter of cutting down?”
“Removing the poor performers?”
“Exactly. If you can’t keep up, you’re out. If you don’t follow my rules, you’re out.”
Kerrigan picked up on his point, that seamless give-and-take they had keeping the idea moving. “If you can’t run a successful op in the harbor, you’re out.”
“Exactly.”
“You know, it makes sense. Especially if you think about it from a woman’s perspective. If you’re trying to build loyalty and keep yourself safe, you’re going to test those around you.
“Can I trust you? Are you going to support me? Are you here for me?”
“It’s another dimension.”
They exchanged theories, their conversation moving back and forth, the time passing easily and quickly. Although they were technically on duty, they needed to make a show of doing the social things a couple did for an evening out. With that, Arlo eyed their half-empty glasses. “Should I ask our waitress to bring us a new round?”
“Sounds good. I’ve flagged the guy refilling water glasses so many times I need to excuse myself. But we don’t want to draw attention by not drinking, either.”
“Then I’ll order some potato skins while I’m at it.”
She slapped a hand over her breasts. “A man after my own heart.”
Since the move did nothing to hide the attractive curves currently resting beneath her fingers, Arlo counted himself the toughest of men when he managed to pull his gaze away and just nod his affirmation on the food.
And then watched her wend a path all the way across the bar, the beautiful shape of her ass drawing more than a few glances as she walked.
He wanted to be mad.
Hell, he was irate and feeling rather vengeful that any man would dare look at her, even as he understood that beautiful women drew attention.
And goodness, she was gorgeous.
It wasn’t just her body, even though the physicality of her work and her athletic grace were evident. Nor was it just that stunning face.
No, it really was the entire picture.
She was the most determined woman he’d ever met. She wanted to be the best and she pushed herself and competed every single day to do that.
But what he also hadn’t been able to get out of his mind was how she’d helped their victim today. The man later identified as Christos Jenkins had been a full person to her. One whose hand she’d held as he passed from this world. It had showcased a level of compassion that had left him in absolute awe of her.
“Can I get you another round?”
Their waitress had returned, her smile bright, if perfunctory. Arlo quickly ordered them another round as well as the potato skins, then he opted to try once more.
“I know I said it before, but this bar really is something. When I’d heard about the cops shutting this place down for a while, I was sure I wouldn’t get to come back here anymore.”
Her gaze was sharp—overly so—as she made a show of picking up his empty glass and placing it on her tray. It was only as she stepped to the side and reached for Kerrigan’s water glass, that she spoke.
Low.
Insistent.
And with a quaver in the voice that didn’t just happen.
“I’d stop making those sorts of comments if I were you.”
Arlo didn’t make any move at all to suggest he’d heard her, but he did slip a card out of his pocket in a smooth move that was likely hidden from view by her body.
He tucked it beneath the napkin where his beer was sitting. “I’ll just leave this here for you to pick up later, then.”
She made no move to touch the card, or to even acknowledge it was there. “Wise up, pal, and do what I said. Stop. Asking. Questions.”
He watched her go, her attention on weaving her way back through the crowd that had only gotten louder and more packed, a sea of bodies enjoying the evening.
It was only as his gaze shifted away from her that he caught sight of the man by the door.
Big. Burly. And while Arlo would ensure Kerrigan made the final ID, the man’s attention was far too sharp to make him think it was anyone else but the thug who was watching her the other night.
Chapter 13
Kerrigan dried her hands and stared at herself in the mirror. Despite their dismal start to the evening, she and Arlo had managed to settle into a rhythm over the past hour sitting there at the table. She mentally congratulated herself on keeping her cool, even as a very large part of her felt like she was overheating every time she looked at the man.
Because, wow, could he kiss.
It hadn’t been like the other night, when they’d spontaneously come together out of a place of distraction and subterfuge.
Those tender moments had been wild enough.
But tonight?
That kiss was all electricity and wild combustion, not to mention basically every single fantasy she’d ever had.
A fantasy she’d spent her life dreaming about and waiting for.
And, yeah, she admitted to herself as she leaned forward, lightly wiping away a small bit of mascara that had stuck on her lower eyelash, it could be as much about the lack of exciting kisses in her life as it was about the sexy guy she’d shared it with.
But...
She stepped back and assessed herself frankly in the mirror. It would be an easy brush-off to say she didn’t know any better because she didn’t have an extensive history of boyfriends. But a small, still-rational part of her brain didn’t think so.
No man she’d dated before had made her feel quite like Arlo.
And no one had drawn such an immediate and all-consuming response to a simple kiss.
I want you.
Against my better judgment.
Against my own horrible history with dating.
Against every feckless, unreliable trait likely passed to me by my family when it comes to interpersonal relationships.
The mere idea of him wanting her was heady, but it was all the disqualifications that came after that had had her wondering.
Did he really believe those things about himself?
Or was it more of a defense mechanism to warn her off?
She wasn’t a woman who’d ever bought in to the idea she could “save” the other person in a relationship. People came to their relationships with—hopefully—every intention of wanting to be in them. It would hardly do to think about Arlo’s words as something she could conquer or overcome with her will and sheer determination.
That way lay folly and, frankly, it showed disrespect for the other person’s words and feelings.
Yet even with that deep-seated belief, she couldn’t fully dismiss the feeling that he was trying to convince himself as much as he was convincing her.
Kerrigan was so lost in thought she nearly missed their waitress step out of a stall. The bathroom had been loud when she’d walked in, but the large crowd dissipated as she waited her turn for the sink, and it was quiet and empty for the moment.
“Hello.” She smiled and nodded at their waitress and made a show of pulling out her lipstick to reapply.
The young woman beside her mumbled a hello and focused on washing her hands.
She took in the skinny frame nearly gaunt beside her in the mirror and considered various conversation starters. The brush-off earlier hadn’t been a simple act of not hearing Arlo’s question and Kerrigan wanted to find out why.
Which made it that much more surprising when the woman reached over and turned on Kerrigan’s sink tap at full blast, a match for her own, which was still running. She leaned in, her voice urgent beneath the noise of the sink.
“I told your boyfriend this but figure you’ve probably got more brains than he does. Stop asking questions.”
The woman made a show of washing her hands, her gaze on the soap filling her palms.
Kerrigan got the sense the woman believed in the warning she was giving, but what really bothered her was the clear shake in those soapy hands. “Why?”
“No one around here likes it.”
The tart, edgy response reinforced all the reasons she and Arlo were here tonight. Their undercover efforts weren’t misplaced.
But she kept her tone even, the slightest edge of her own winging back at the woman. “It was a simple question. A big bust went down in this bar. People are curious.”
“Curiosity helps no one. And the people who are still here are just trying to keep their heads down, live their lives and make enough to get by. You get it?”
The waitress finished rinsing her hands, and in addition to that light shaking, Kerrigan could see the haggard lines of her face in the light of the overheads. Wide, scared eyes further reinforced all she was trying to warn Kerrigan away from.
“Yeah, I get it. Even if I don’t agree.”
“People who don’t agree in here don’t last very long.” The woman reached over and turned off the taps in quick, harsh motions, her agitation clear.
“Then let me help you.”
She snagged a handful of paper towels, quickly drying her hands. “There’s no such thing as help.”
With that she turned on her heel and marched out of the bathroom. A few women tumbled drunkenly through the door, blocking any attempt Kerrigan might make to quickly go after the waitress and pull her back.
Remorse permeated the space where the woman had stood. In that moment, Kerrigan finally understood exactly what she and Arlo were up against.
Whoever was running things and working toward making a name for themselves had effectively scared everyone in their orbit. The turf war they’d imagined might still be a possibility, but Kerrigan would lay odds their discussion earlier was more on point.
Whoever was trying to take over was thinning the herd, paring away anyone they thought wasn’t up to snuff.
In a world where there was minimal security, anyway, that sort of unrelenting “justice” would be hard to escape.
And what could people really do?
Go to the cops? Not with a rap sheet and a reputation.
Try to go up against someone amassing power? Not when you needed a fair amount of your own personal power to make the play.
She didn’t think their waitress was a power player, but the woman was a reflection of the bigger problem. The criminals in Brooklyn were running scared, along with everyone in their orbit.
And if the fear she just saw reflected in the mirror was any indication, she and Arlo didn’t have a lot of time left to figure out who was the cause of it all.
* * *
Arlo moved into the alley behind the bar, the large, fenced parking lot where the valets parked cars stretching out before him. He’d sent Kerrigan a quick text that he was heading outside and that he wouldn’t be long.
