Becoming Rain (Burying Water #2)(77)

“What are you thinking?” Warner asks.

That something just doesn’t add up here. I’m used to sifting through thousands of seemingly useless pieces of information that make no sense until we have the entire picture. We spend most of our time speculating, downright guessing, and not being able to act without concrete evidence. This is definitely a case that’s testing my skills at deduction.

I shake it off. “So we’re going to go through with the money drop and arrest the person who shows up at the storage locker?”

“Nope. The person who shows up at the storage locker is going to find a black Porsche 911 with a matching license plate loaded with bugs.” Warner smiles as I start to understand the plan.

“You’re going to try and get through the fences.” I toss the ball for Stanley again. This still isn’t sitting right. “But this was an intentional hit. What happens when they see 12 driving around in his car again? They’re going to know that the one they’ve got is staged.”

“He won’t be driving that car around anytime soon. I’m impounding that car for as long as we need to.”

“How are you going—”

“The magic of being a Fed, darling.”

I smile as he scratches behind an impatient Stanley’s ear. Warner’s not usually so overtly cocky about the power he wields with his badge.

“And what if 12 tells everyone that his car was lifted but the cops found it, and the person who did this hears about it?”

“It’s a risk. But if I were running a gig like 12 and 24 are and someone stole my car, I’d keep it quiet while I was looking for the thief, because I’d be pissed.”

“It’s a big risk,” I emphasize.

“And we need a big break in this case.”

I nod slowly. “What’s your take on the thick, mean Bond accent? Russian?”

“Sounds like it but it doesn’t make sense. Why would 24’s associates steal his nephew’s car?”

I shake my head, wondering the same thing. “Luke did say that the Russians he was working with were *s. Maybe he did something to piss them off? Or . . . do you think they were fishing to see if Luke has a tail on him?”

“If so, then we need to be extra careful.”

“Yeah. That means no more face-to-face visits, big brother. Not even pop-ins to my condo. It’s too dangerous. There’s nothing stopping someone from tailing me. And you, too.”

I feel Warner’s eyes on my face but I keep my eyes on Stanley. “Yeah, you’re right.” I don’t miss the disappointment in his sigh.

Chapter 41

LUKE

“Dinner was magnificent. Please tell the chef,” Aref announces as the waitress sets our drinks down in front of us. She’s the same one that served us last time. What a difference between the two nights, for both her and me.

She smiles. “He’ll be happy to hear that.” Her eyes drift over both Rust and me as she collects the last of our dishes.

“What can I say, Rust, except that I’m very pleased,” Aref offers.

“So am I,” I throw in, the burn of the scotch not nearly enough to quell the relief I feel. Maybe working with a guy like Aref will help erase the hint of distaste and guilt I feel being involved in this racket.

“I’m glad Luke connected us for this. I have my network onboard for one order, to start. And . . .” Rust pauses to place his napkin on the dishes that the server carries, on her way past. “. . . I think Luke’s already made it clear that this does not involve our other partners. That shipment will go through as planned. If all goes well here, it’ll be the last one.”

Aref waves away any concerns. “You know I prefer business with you. And I already have a buyer who will make it well worth our while. He needs delivery in two weeks.”

Rust begins chuckling, but I see the tension in his jaw. “Sorry, Aref, but that’s not doable. It’s too risky, especially with what we’re looking for.”

“I’m afraid he’ll go to another buyer if I don’t produce.”

“They all say that. Buy us five weeks and we can deliver. That I will guarantee.”

Aref’s lips purse tightly, but then he seems to relent with a nod and a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter 42

CLARA

“They took the bait.” I can almost see Warner’s big, goofy smile through the phone as I pace around the island in my kitchen. “It’s sitting in a commercial warehouse right now. The bugs picked up a couple of names that mean nothing so far, but we’re working on it. Also, our C.I. at Corleone’s just confirmed that 12, 24, and 36 were at dinner two nights ago.”

36. New code name for Aref.

“I’m working on a warrant for the restaurant’s surveillance videos, but her descriptions of the three of them match. She recognized 12 from the last time they were there.”

I’ll bet she did, my jealous streak snarls. “Did she overhear anything valuable?”

“That both 36 and 12 are very pleased about something.”

I used to like getting calls from Warner. Now I dread them. Maybe because I see the walls closing in on Luke. And fast. “Hey, I was thinking of swinging by and dropping lunch off for him. When’s the next surveillance detail?”