A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)(67)

“She’s good.” He didn’t say more, but Selene didn’t seem to mind, thankfully. Right now he just wanted to get through the rest of the day and go see Amelia.

He needed to see with his own eyes that she was truly fine.

Leaning back in his office chair, Wesley speed-dialed Karen as soon as he ended his call with Ortiz. “You find anything?”

“I was just about to call you.” She sounded smug, a sure sign she’d most definitely discovered something to help their case. Right now he had her digging up everything she could to find out who’d hurt Amelia. “I did a run scanning CCTVs for license plates or vehicles that showed up around the same time Amelia was attacked the night of the auction, then yesterday. One license plate showed in the exact same vicinities.”

“Gray?” The truck Neal Gray had been driving that morning hadn’t been damaged, so if he’d attacked Amelia the day before, he’d done it in a different vehicle. They needed evidence to link him to the previous attack to show a steady escalation of violence toward her. Then they’d be able to get him on multiple offenses.

“No, but I found something very interesting. The plate of the truck used belongs to a Lorna Torres. According to the DMV she’s eighty-two years old. From what I’ve gathered through her insurance records, the truck belonged to her deceased husband and she just keeps it in storage in her garage.”

“The point, Karen.”

“I’m getting there. You need to appreciate my brilliance first. Guess who Torres lives next door to? Gray’s mother—and Gray had to move back in with her when he lost his job at Amelia’s restaurant. That’s not a coincidence.”

So Neal had stolen his elderly neighbor’s truck for the attacks. Stupid to steal so close to home. “Good work. Send all the info to Nieto. I’m going to call and give him a heads-up.”

“Already done. I blind-copied you.”

Of course she had. He swore Karen could read his mind some days. “Thanks.” Once he disconnected he pulled up his e-mail and scanned the info before calling Nieto.

“Yeah?” Nieto answered immediately.

“You checked your e-mail in the last five minutes?”

“No, I’m fucking busy over here.”

A smile tugged at Wesley’s mouth. “Well, check. One of my people just sent you a Christmas present. Has Sinclair gotten Gray to confess to the other attacks on Amelia yet?”

“No, he’s back in holding right now.”

“Well, get him out. With the new info you’ve got, Sinclair should be able to make this guy talk. Especially if you try to nail him for taking Tessa Hall.” Wesley didn’t think he was involved with that. According to Detective Sinclair, Neal Gray was pissed at Amelia for losing his job and giving him a bad evaluation when potential employers had called to check up on his references. Wesley couldn’t believe the guy had even listed her, considering why he’d been fired, but the stupidity of people never ceased to amaze him.

“You don’t really think he’s involved with Hall’s disappearance,” Nieto scoffed.

“No, I don’t.” But if they scared him enough into thinking he could be charged for the disappearance of Hall, hopefully he’d confess to everything else.

“Ah, gotcha. Thanks for the info. I’ll let you know what happens, but he’s in holding for now and he’s not going anywhere for the next forty-eight hours regardless.”

“Good.” At least that was one problem out of the way.

For now. It seemed clear that Gray had been the one to go after Amelia. And as long as he was in jail, she was safe. But Wesley figured that with Sinclair’s stellar record, he’d be able to break Gray soon. When that happened, it just depended on the right judge revoking Gray’s bail if he decided to take things to trial. But if he took a deal he’d skip a trial and go straight to prison.

That was what Wesley was hoping for. If not, he’d pull some strings and make sure that bastard got in front of the “right” judge.





Chapter 18


Shock and awe: a military doctrine meaning rapid dominance. A technique using an overwhelming display of force to paralyze your target’s perception of the battleground.





Nathan’s gut clenched as Amelia opened her front door and stepped back. He’d called ahead and told her he had good news and wanted to tell her in person.

But the divide between them was so thick it might as well be tangible.

“Did I wake you?” he asked as she shut the door behind him.

She was wearing lounge pants, a tank top—no bra, something he was trying hard not to pay attention to—and had bare feet. Her toes were painted a teal color today. “No, can’t sleep.” Her words were clipped, her gaze shuttered.

When she wrapped her arms around herself and didn’t invite him any farther than the foyer, he shoved his hands in his pockets. If he tried to reach for her, he knew she’d reject him. “I’m sorry about what happened this morning. How are you doing?”

Her shrug was jerky. “Good, I guess. Thank you for asking.”

Her response was ultra-polite, like something she’d say to a stranger. Which was what they felt like right now. It grated on his nerves. He wanted to pin her up against her front door and kiss her senseless. “Gray confessed to all the attacks on you. He’s going away for six to eight years.” He’d probably get out sooner thanks to their fucked-up system, but at least he was off the streets for now.