Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)(16)

Erin shrugged. “It’s not as hard as it sounds.”

“May was cooperating with us.” Derek paused to let that sink in. “He had the proof we needed that Stark took the bribe. He’s also in possession of evidence that Stark approved a private development in exchange for campaign funds.”

“Stark got to him,” Connor said, his voice sounding rusty. “Found out he was going to talk.”

“That’s the assumption,” Derek confirmed. “We need to find him.”

“What if May is dead?” Erin wanted to know.

“Yeah,” Austin chimed in. “Stark doesn’t sound like the type to leave that kind of liability hanging around.”

Derek tapped the blue marker against his palm. “Each of you will be working a different angle. If we can’t find May, we trap Stark a different way.”

Erin flinched against him at the word “trap” and Connor quashed the urge to drag her onto his lap. Not for the first time, he wondered if she could handle what came their way. She might present a cavalier attitude to everyone else, but he’d seen what lay just beneath last night.

“This is where you six come in.” Derek uncapped the marker with his teeth and made a circle on the whiteboard, writing “Stark Campaign Headquarters” through the middle. “Sera, this is where I want you. Finding out everything you can. Listening, asking the right questions. We’ve built you a solid résumé and alternate identity that gets you in as a campaign staffer. Working close—”

“Nope.” Bowen started shaking his head. “No f*cking way.”

“—but not too close with Stark. The mayoral election isn’t for a few months and he’s only there a few times a week.” Derek gave Bowen a challenging look. “Are you saying she’s not capable of handling it?”

Feeling an unwanted spark of sympathy for Bowen—he knew from experience that the guy lived for his girlfriend—Connor spoke up. “I think he’s saying he’s not capable of handling it.”

“Not my problem,” Derek returned.

“Can you get me in there as a”—Bowen snapped his fingers—“whatsitcalled, too?”

“A campaign staffer. And no. Best I can do is put you on surveillance outside headquarters.”

Sera murmured something to Bowen and he fell into the chair beside her, looking numbed out. Derek sighed and moved on. “Polly, I need you to set Sera up with a mic that feeds out directly to me…and Bowen. If you can get your hands on Stark’s financial records—”

“Cake.”

“—then try to track down any and all suspicious activity.”

Polly scrolled through her phone. “This barely passes as a challenge.”

Derek ignored her. “Erin, getting in and out of prison is your specialty. Find out how May did it. Or Stark did it for him, as the case may be.”

Erin shot forward in her seat. “Dude, I thought the point of this little dream team was to keep me out of prison.”

“This time, you’ll be there as a visitor,” Derek said drily. “Connor, go with her. Tomorrow morning, I have you scheduled for a visit with May’s cell mate. See if you can get anything else useful out of him. Suspicious behavior before May went missing, anything that could point us in the right direction.”

“On it.”

“What about me?” Austin made a sweeping gesture over his body. “You’re going to sideline your most valuable player?”

Connor decided he didn’t like Austin. Especially when Erin chuckled under her breath at his mock outrage.

“You’ll be utilized when the time comes.”

“Is this meeting over?” Bowen asked.

“Yes, but keep your phones on in case I need to be in touch.” Derek capped the pen and shoved it into his back pocket. “Let the games begin.”





Chapter Six


When Connor walked into his apartment, Erin gave him her best smile. She’d used this particular smile only one other time in her life, and it had ended in her first successful bank robbery, so she felt good about her chances of Connor complying with her request. At nineteen, she’d gotten tired of living in the back of her car and reasoned the bank wasn’t really using that money. Not actively. She’d used this exact smile to gain entry to the bank after hours, tempted the armed guard into the vault with the promise of a quickie, and subdued him with his own nightstick.

“Hey, roomie,” she said from her perch on the windowsill.

Connor stared at her long and hard before striding into the kitchen. She saw what he was holding, though. A plastic bag of groceries, including a gallon jug of orange juice. Her smile widened, which only put a meaner scowl on his chiseled face. “Where did you go after the meeting? I turned around and you were gone. You have to stop doing that.”

“Getting gone is kind of my thing.” She hopped off the sill. “Besides, I had to test the escape route you so thoughtfully made me. My estimation was off by two whole steps in my favor. Good work? baby.”

Connor looked up at the ceiling as if he were praying for patience to drop out of the heavens. It gave Erin a chance to look him over. God, he looked good when he was angry. His wide chest seemed even broader, muscles more pronounced beneath his gray T-shirt. Like she could climb his body and he wouldn’t even notice. His jaw was rigid with tension. Ticking, ticking like a bomb ready to go off. A bomb that would start a glorious five-alarm fire. The image made her shiver. Again, she marveled over the fact that nothing about him made her nervous. She recalled the fear that had careered through her bloodstream yesterday when he grabbed her wrist. Some nerves couldn’t be remedied, but even being around another person this long was a feat for her. Twenty minutes into most acquaintances, she started to get antsy. Afraid the other person would get too close and start feeling comfortable. Comfortable enough to touch her.