Shattered Lies (Web of Lies #3)(33)

Val sighed. “He knew enough to have me blackballed at every government agency.”

“He must be Manuel’s contact. He’s seen Manuel and is heading in that direction.”

Lizzy kept turning Valeria so her back was toward him. “He stopped by the pool. Manuel sees him. Manuel’s looking around. His eyes are on us,” Lizzy laughed as she looked at Valeria. “We need to leave.”

“Why?” Valeria felt her stomach knot. It was the same feeling she had when an operation went wrong.

“Because Anthony is walking this way. Manuel pointed to us.”





14





“Get out,” Dalton’s calm words came over the coms.

“Like hell. I can take Anthony with my eyes closed.” Valeria was ready. It was time for payback.

“He’s stopped,” Lizzy giggled, spinning and sending her skirt flying up. “He’s staring at us.”

“Fuck,” Dalton cursed. “This party is busted. Get out, now.”

“Sebas—” Valeria started to ask.

“Leave him. He has identification, neither of you do.” It was remarkable how calm Dalton and Grant were under stress. Grant calmly told them how to leave the party as the first sounds of “DEA!” were being shouted at the front of the house.

Lizzy and Valeria moved quickly, shoving their way through the crowd. Some of the crowd panicked, some laughed and snapped selfies while others kept drinking and dancing.

“Left through the mimosa trees,” came Grant’s steady voice.

“The white or pink ones?” Lizzy asked as she led the way.

“Pink.”

“Go first,” Lizzy ordered Val.

“You go. You’re already there,” Valeria called from where Lizzy was already halfway up the tree looking over the eight-foot stucco privacy fence.

Lizzy nodded and climbed from the tree to the top of the fence and then disappeared from sight. Valeria reached up and grabbed the branches of the tropical tree with the fuzzy flowers. She hiked her foot and pulled herself up.

But suddenly she was being pulled back down. Instinctively she tightened her grip on the branches and tried to free herself. “It’s been a long time, baby.”

Anthony’s voice slithered over her.

“I’m not your baby.”

“Did you think a wig and some makeup would fool me? Your back gave you away. How many times did I trace those freckles that make up a crescent on your shoulder blade?”

“Do you need assistance?” Grant’s granite-hard voice said over coms, but before she could scream, the DEA and police flooded the backyard.

“Freeze!” someone yelled right behind them.

“Calm down, I’m with you. DEA Agent Anthony Gomez. I’m taking a suspect into custody.”

“I’m not a suspect!” Valeria said, fighting against the cuffs Anthony was putting on her.

“Hold on, lass. I’m coming,” she heard Grant’s voice say over the coms as Anthony flashed his badge and began to drag her across the yard and away from her team.

Valeria fought. She darted out in front of Anthony and spun to face him. “Hijo de puta!” she cursed as she slammed her forehead into the bridge of his nose. She smiled as she heard the crunch of his bone. His grasp loosened enough for her to jerk away, but then she felt it. The pinch of taser prongs and everything went black.



* * *



Grant shoved the side door to the van open and went to leap out. Dalton’s iron-tight grip on his arm stopped him. Adrenaline surged through him harder and faster than when he was taking on enemy fire.

“Let go!” Grant growled as he tried to shake him off.

“We have to think about this. If you go charging in there, you’re no help to her at all. Listen, she’s not talking. It’s that Anthony guy talking.”

“Thanks for your assistance, officer. I’ll take her from here,” Grant heard Anthony say, followed by the sound of car door closing.

“Steal a car and follow them. We need to find Sebastian, Manuel, and Roland,” Lizzy ordered as she neared the van. Dalton let go of him. Lizzy reached into a duffle bag and tossed Grant a gun and a burner phone.

“What’s this?” he asked as he turned on the phone. A little dot was moving along the private road heading out of the neighborhood.

“I learned my lesson the last time and put a small GPS dot sticker on the inside of her dress. Follow her and get her back.”

Lizzy climbed into the driver’s seat of the van and tossed a second phone to Dalton. “I also tagged Sebastian.”

“They’re moving deeper into the neighborhood,” Dalton said as he watched the dot move. “Go!” he yelled at Grant, who didn’t wait to jump out of the van.

Grant slid the gun into his waistband at the small of his back and took off down the street. Contrary to belief, it would be easier to steal a car from behind a gated driveway than not. People felt safe behind gates and tended to not lock up like they should.

Grant hopped the first gated driveway he found. A plum purple Bentley Continental convertible was parked in the round driveway near the front door. Even better, he didn’t need to break glass.

Grant leapt over the door and slid into the front seat. He let out a silent whoop when he saw the key fob in the cup holder. He pressed the brake and pushed the start button, and the Bentley’s V8 roared to life. As he waited for the gate to slide open, he looked at the map. Anthony was speeding east, about to get onto Interstate 5. The gate opened and Grant peeled out the driveway. Unlike Anthony, he didn’t have a way to get past the blockade. Grant smashed his hand against the steering wheel when he was stopped in a long line of cars by police and DEA as they looked for Manuel Hernandez.