Читать книгу Deep Undercover - Lenora Worth - Страница 16

Brianne swallowed so fast the coffee went down the wrong way and she started coughing.

Gavin watched her, his expression puzzled and confused and kind of comical. She took a sip of water and tried to clear her throat before Lou came rushing out to give her the Heimlich maneuver.

“Would you mind repeating that?” she asked, wiping her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

Nodding, she lifted her right hand to wave him on because she really wanted to hear this. A couple of uniforms came through, nodded and headed inside.

The sky had darkened, and she thought she’d seen a streak of lightning to the west. Traffic noises merged with thunder.

“It’s for a case,” he said, handing her another paper napkin to wipe her eyes. “I mean, it might be this case.”

“Involving the bomber from last night?”

“I don’t know yet. We’ll have to figure that out together.”

“Why me?” she asked, still confused.

“I’m not an undercover cop,” he said. “Not even a detective. I can’t give up my identity to go undercover but I can snoop around. I just need a cover for a few weeks.”

Barbara came out with their meal and refilled their coffee, pretending she hadn’t noticed all the coughing drama. But she shot Brianne a knowing smile. “Looks like rain,” she said, glancing at the billowing gray clouds. “Better eat up.”

Stella and Tommy sniffed the air. Bacon?

She felt their pain. Brianne watched Barbara go back inside and then grabbed a slice of crisp bacon. “I think I’m gonna need this.”

“I’ve been following a lead,” he explained between bites of fluffy pancakes and the best bacon in New York.

Or at least it tasted that way to Brianne each time she swiped a strip. Stress eating was her thing, after all. She’d have to run the bacon off later. And she’d have to run off the strange currents circulating through her system, too. Why, oh why had she been paired with this man?

Work. Focus on work. “What kind of lead?”

“A few months ago, we established that a person noted as a master bomb-maker might be back in New York and that he could possibly be the one who set off the boiler explosion that caused part of the apartment building you mentioned to wind up in pieces. One person killed and three hospitalized. Tommy and I were the first to arrive on the scene because I had dinner with a friend at a nearby restaurant. Tommy alerted and we found fragments of what looked like the makings of a bomb. Pieced things together but the FBI and Homeland Security took over the case.”

“The explosion in Williamsburg?” she asked, gaining interest. “An older apartment building. They couldn’t figure out what had caused the boiler to explode but this report says possible tampering. They never found a suspect.”

“We never found a suspect. Tommy and I gave it our best shot and we found evidence of an incendiary device but no trace of the person who might have done it.” He shrugged and shook his head. “I had to let it go.”

“Maybe the department will get a lead soon.”

“They won’t, and for several reasons,” he said. “First, we only have a written report from the other agencies and I had to ask special permission for that. Plus, this possible bomber is like a ghost, but my confidential informant—we call him Beanpole because he’s so skinny—told me he’s heard things about that explosion being deliberate. Someone wanted that building destroyed. He thinks he’s seen the man who did it and he described him to me. If it’s who I think it is, he’s known as the Tick—a double meaning. His bombs don’t always tick but he grips his target and won’t let go until the job is done. I’m talking taunting, stalking, harassing and then...boom.”

“Like a tick on skin?”

“Yes. Hard to find and even harder to shake.”

She almost shuddered but lifted her shoulder instead. “Not a good image.”

“No. This man is dangerous. He’s not considered a terrorist and he’s not connected to any sleeper cells as far as we can tell. But someone could be hiring him to sabotage or damage buildings so they can be condemned. That forces people out so they can buy the property at rock-bottom prices and rebuild on it, making a fortune. That makes him a domestic terrorist in my book, him and whoever is paying him to do this.”

He stopped, waiting for her to bolt. But Brianne sat with her eyes on him, giving him her complete attention.

“After that explosion, I did some research and found a pattern that seems to match his MO. I found one report from a building in Chicago—a gas explosion. Blasted but no foul play found. Six months later, the property had switched hands and a fancy new condominium building went up. And another in Atlanta, same pattern. A fire in the basement that got out of hand, ruled as an electrical fire. A few months later, the place had been razed to build a new high-rise condo building.”

“So you see a pattern developing?”

“Yes. Those incidents have all the markings of the Tick. He disguises his bombs to make them look like something else—a gas leak, a boiler blowing up, an accidental construction fire. Once that’s over and done, the buildings change hands pretty quickly. The previous owners might get an insurance settlement but an offer to buy them out would sure add to that. And I think they’re being persuaded in other ways, too.”

“Intimidation?” She shook her head. “Violet’s mentioned Lou being harassed lately. Something about gentrification.”

“Yes, that kind of thing. The threat of another explosion, rumors that scare tenants away.”

“So...you’ve been researching this because...?”

He took a swig of coffee and checked the clouds coming in. “I didn’t like leaving the case unsolved, and I need something to prove I’m not just out to get promoted. I really care about this case. I’m ambitious, true. But...this is dangerous stuff. The Williamsburg explosion turned out to be more powerful—enough to take down a small building and kill a woman. Tommy alerted and our partners are rarely wrong on these things. But...we didn’t find enough proof.”

“So how is he getting away with this?”

“I think someone higher up is hiring him to scare property owners. He’s meticulous in hiding his tracks but now he’s getting bolder. Bombers like notoriety, but they don’t want to get caught so they prefer to leave little signatures but not much evidence.”

“So these real estate agents are trying to scare vulnerable people out of their apartments and homes so they can raze them and build?”

“Yes. They want the property, but not the buildings.” He sat silently, as if weighing his next words. “They make people back off on contracts or force owners to sell quietly and quickly. They’ve got a system of intimidation and bullying tactics and the bomber is just the tip of the iceberg. No one can prove anything so the owners cave and wash their hands of the entire mess.”

“So it’s not just about the bomber? You want these corrupt real estate agents to end their bullying ways.”

“I do, for so many reasons.” Looking out over the street, he let out a sigh. “The woman who died in that explosion worked with my grandmother at a nearby hospital. I knew her, Bree. Helen Proctor. She lived in Williamsburg all of her life and most of that time in the apartment she shared with her husband before he died. She was good to me when my grandmother got sick and...after she passed away.” Twisting his napkin, he added, “I knew she lived there but...but I couldn’t believe it when they brought her out in a body bag.”

And right after that, Jordan Jameson had died and Gavin had been put through the wringer as a possible suspect. No wonder he seemed to have a big chip on his shoulder.

More like the weight of the world.

“I’m sorry, Gavin. So sorry.” Brianne’s heart burned with understanding. She’d heard Gavin’s grandmother had raised him after his mother left him as an infant. She didn’t bring up any of that, though. “So this is personal for you?”

“Very,” he admitted. “At the time, Jordan knew about my connection to Helen, so I asked if I could investigate the alleged bombing on the side, on my own time if needed.”

“And he agreed to that?”

“He did after I explained—Helen Proctor didn’t deserve to die that way. He knew, Noah knows and now you. I’d like to keep it that way. No one else, okay?”

“Okay.” She could see how much this meant to him. But how far would he be willing to go?

“So the chief went along with your plan?”

“He told me to be careful. Jordan and I go way back, but we had a falling out when we were in the academy together and later, as everyone knows, I resented him getting promoted. I think he initially gave the go-ahead to this because we both felt bad about what happened—a stupid fight over a training episode. Just too stubborn to apologize.”

Brianne could now see why Gavin seemed so solemn at times. She wanted to hear more about what had happened between them, but she’d save that for another time. “You feel guilty about that?”

“Of course I do.” Shrugging, he said, “Then I got put on the suspect list regarding his murder. That stung, you know. I wish I’d kept my opinions to myself, but I understand how my complaining looked bad.”

“We all know you wouldn’t kill Jordan, Gavin. And we have proof that you didn’t. I read the report. You worked a swanky fund-raiser in Midtown and both the commissioner and the mayor saw you there. Then you arrived home around midnight and your roommate said you guys talked for an hour and both went to bed. Your vehicle never left your yard until after nine that morning, according to the traffic cameras in the area.”

“You read the report?”

“Of course I did. Jordan was last seen at six a.m. But I didn’t have to read a report to know the truth.”

He shot her a look that held appreciation and admiration. And something else she couldn’t read. “Thank you, Bree.”

She nodded and took a long sip of coffee.

“So now you’re on this quest for two reasons—you knew a woman who died at the hands of this possible bomber and...you owe it to Jordan and now the new chief, his brother Noah, to show your true merit?”

He studied her, probably looking for a judgmental frown. When she didn’t give him one, he nodded. “Yes, I guess that’s it in a nutshell. This is important to me.”

Brianne leaned forward. “So you’re after the Tick. What’s the plan?”

“Well, I’m after him, but I’m also after the people who’ve hired him. This is a classic case of intimidation. Mafia-style.” Glancing around, he made sure they were alone. “After comparing a couple of random explosions around Manhattan, I’ve been discreetly asking questions, talking to wealthy investors, stuff like that. We’re talking seven figures or more—a lot of money. If someone is sabotaging developers and property owners by bombing buildings so they can step in and take over, it could only get worse from here.”

Confused and needing to know the bottom line, she asked, “But Gavin, you’re a K-9 cop. You’re usually not involved in the investigative part. I can’t believe the department agreed to this.”

His expression went from hopeful to disappointed in a flash. “I’d been doing this on the side, on my own time, after I got a tip from Beanpole. But I kept Jordy up-to-date.” Sighing, he added, “After Jordy went missing and was found dead, I went to Noah to get permission to continue working on this case. You know the rest. This had to be put on hold. We all want to find Jordy’s killer. That’s top priority for the precinct.”

“But you’re still working on this, too, clearly.”

He nodded and then stared out into the street. “I’m not hiding it from Noah or anyone else. In fact, I think they’re all glad I’ve got something else to occupy me. Even though I’ve been cleared of any suspicion in Jordy’s death, I can’t shake the doubters who still aren’t sure.”

Beginning to understand, she said, “But if you solve this case, you’d look better in everyone’s eyes, right?”

“I hope so. Bree, I didn’t always get along with Jordy but...I respected him. He was a good cop and a good leader. I need this—not only because of that, but because this man is getting bolder with each bomb. He has to be stopped.”

Brianne didn’t know what to say. Good officers knew working without backup was never the best plan. Glad he’d been upfront with the chief, she said, “You shouldn’t go it alone. Have you talked to the FBI and Homeland Security any more?”

“They’ve been informed. Those in charge know Tommy and I are good at what we do. As long as I don’t interfere in their cases, I’m clear. I have to report back, of course. Besides, I’m not technically undercover. I’ve just trying to build a solid case—on my own time and in my own way.”

“This is an unusual situation,” she said. “I know a lot of detectives who are deep undercover. They give up everything to do their jobs.”

“Yes, but my job is bomb detection and...I can’t let this one go. Tommy found something at that site, and I think he recognized that man yesterday after Stella alerted. I took this on because my gut tells me this man is so close. And based on Beanpole’s vague description of him, I think that could have been him. I haven’t figured out why he’d bomb the park, but it could have been a distraction. I can’t talk to anyone much about it per Noah’s orders, but the NYPD is well aware of the situation and they’ve got people on it, too. I thought I could trust you, though, since you were there.”

“And then you got this wild idea that we could both work this case, possibly undercover as husband and wife?”

“Something like that. It’s stupid, I know. But...I need evidence, and most of the detectives I know are swamped and all in on their own cases.” He took a sip of coffee. “As you know, I rent out a room in the house in Valley Stream I inherited from my Granny Irene. My roommate’s so deep undercover, I get rent money from a PO box and I haven’t seen him since he vouched for me three months ago—right before he started this new case.”

A streak of lightning made a jagged dance over the skyscrapers and then a roar of thunder shook the sky. The flowers in the dish gardens bent in the brisk wind.

“We’d better get inside,” he said, his tone gruff now.

Brianne stood. “I want to hear more,” she said. “All of it. Then I’ll decide.”

“Forget I mentioned it.”

She slanted her eyebrow up. “Oh, no. This conversation is not over.”

The lightning flashed again. Brianne turned away from the street to give Stella a command so they could move inside.

Before she could get to the door, the rain started coming down. Gavin glanced at an approaching SUV and then back at her, his eyes filling with apprehension.

In the next instance, he jumped across the table and covered her, pushing her down, rain pouring around them.

But something else also poured out along with the rain.

Bullets.