Hard As You Can

Chapter 9

Standing in the quiet of his bedroom, Shane stared at his phone, a sense of triumph heating his blood.

Crystal had called.

Just the thought that Crystal had apparently decided to help him flooded restless energy through his veins. Because it meant she was reliable. Even more importantly, it meant she was taking a chance on trusting him. Shane didn’t know everything there was to know about this woman. Not by a long shot. But he was pretty damn sure she didn’t trust easily.

Now he just needed to make certain he didn’t do anything to damage that trust.

The listening devices in her apartment came to mind. The ones that had allowed him to overhear her conversation with Bruno and made it possible for the team to spend the morning researching the marine terminal and getting Marz’s fingers to work looking for any other clues and connections that might help them.

No question the devices violated Crystal’s privacy and her trust. And he felt twice as shitty about that given the trust she evidently planned to put in him. Already had, just by making the call.

But then his mind put those facts up against some others—namely, her scumbag’s penchant for getting violent. And Shane’s brain landed on the side of thinking the devices a necessary evil. Didn’t mean they sat well in his stomach, though.

Deciding to allow himself five minutes to bask in the victory of Crystal’s having called, Shane made his way out of his room and down the hall to the wide-open space of the Rixeys’ combined kitchen and living room. Everyone had been hanging here after lunch when he’d slipped away to take the call, but they’d all made like ghosts and disappeared. He searched the gym and found more of the same.

He jogged down the cement-and-metal steps, his footsteps echoing in the industrial hallway, to the doorway of Hard Ink, the tattoo shop Jeremy and Nick co-owned. Whereas Nick only did some occasional work in the shop around his job as a process server—talk about your odd mash-ups—Jeremy was apparently well-known among tattoo enthusiasts, and the shop had an excellent reputation.

The back door to Hard Ink led into a large rectangular lounge with high windows and three brick walls. The longest wall held a kick-ass mural that read, “Bleed with me and you will forever be my brother.” Shane’s gaze traced over the red, black, and gray of the graffiti-like design and identified with the sentiment to his core. The team stood congregated around the center of the room, some standing, some half sitting on the round tables that filled the space.

“This is Nick, Derek, Beckett, and Easy,” Jeremy said, pausing long enough between the introductions to allow each of them to shake hands with someone Shane couldn’t see.

He joined the group and laid eyes on the man Jeremy was introducing.

“Oh, and this is Shane,” Jeremy said. “Shane, Ike Young, the man with the magic hands.”

With his shaved head, skull tats, full sleeves, and cutoff denim jacket, Jeremy’s tattooist looked like he belonged in a tattoo shop. Shane and Ike shook. Guy seemed friendly enough.

“Pfft. He’s not all that,” Jessica Jakes said, walking in from the front reception area and elbowing Ike with a wicked smile.

“It’s a good thing I like you, squirt,” he said, putting his arm around Jess’s neck and yanking her in tight. He absolutely dwarfed her in size—a combination of how petite she was and how huge Ike was.

“Of course you do. I’m totally adorable,” she said, glaring at Jeremy as he rolled his eyes. What Jess lacked in height, she made up for in the size of her personality and the bite of her sarcastic tongue. Shane’s gaze glanced over her, from the black braid that curved around the side of her neck and laid over her shoulder to the low vee of her tight, black shirt to the killer heeled boots she wore over a pair of curve-hugging jeans. When they’d met, Jess hadn’t done a damn thing to hide her attraction to Shane, and he’d had half a mind to have a little fun with her when this mission was over.

Now . . . ?

Crystal.

His mind conjured up the softness of all that red hair, the heat of her curves in his hands, the press of her body against his.

Aw, hell.

Shane gave Jess another look and . . . nope. His interest wasn’t there. Not anymore.

“And this is Becca,” Jeremy said. She smiled as she shook Ike’s hand, but worry and exhaustion shone in her eyes. This situation would’ve been a helluva lot of stress for anyone, but in the past few days, Becca had been injured, nearly abducted—twice, and now she was pulling all-nighters to stand watch over her brother. Thank God she’d managed to take a couple weeks’ leave time from her nursing job. No way she could’ve juggled all that right now.

“So, Ike and Jess, just wanted you to meet the guys since they’ll be coming and going from the building while they get their new security-consulting business up and running.” The team had strategized this morning what to tell Jeremy’s staff. They needed some plausible cover for why they were hanging around so much, and the consulting business well fit their military backgrounds and explained why they were buttoning up the security around here.

Jess pulled out of Ike’s hold and crossed her arms. “Security consulting. What exactly does that mean?” she asked.

“Private investigation, computer and physical-security analysis and installation. That kind of thing,” Nick said casually.

“Jess’s dad was a cop,” Jeremy said, neither his stance nor his voice as relaxed and convincing as Nick’s.

She pressed her lips into a tight line and nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “Well, good luck with it. I’ve got a client coming in ten, so I better get ready.” She gave a small wave and left the group. It was maybe the most reserved Shane had ever seen her. The mention of her dad had almost seemed to take the wind from her sails. Jess’s dad was a cop. Why had Jeremy used the past tense? And, Christ, did they need to worry about Jess or her father being in any way connected to the police on Church’s payroll?

As if hearing Shane’s thoughts, Nick said in a low voice. “Her father died a number of years ago. She doesn’t talk about him much.” He turned to Jeremy. “We’re heading out for a while. See ya later.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeremy said.

Becca walked up to him. “Can I ask you a favor?”

Jeremy’s smile was immediate and full of affection for Becca. “Name it.”

“Can you keep an eye on Charlie for me? It’s just that I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, and—”

“I’d be happy to. My next client isn’t until four anyway. I can do the prep work I need upstairs.”

“Thank you.” She hugged him. “That makes me feel a lot better.”

Nick gave Jeremy a nod that communicated his thanks, too.

“We better get going,” Shane said. In addition to their humanitarian concerns about Charlie’s condition, Marz was worried he wouldn’t figure out the meaning of the binary codes without Charlie’s help, so it hadn’t taken anything for Becca to convince Nick and the team that Charlie needed treatment beyond what she and Shane could provide. Even leery as they were about bringing in an outsider. A veteran emergency medical technician nearly through with medical school, her friend seemed about as qualified as they could hope for. Better yet, he’d agreed to meet with Becca after lunch. But Shane didn’t want to be late to Crystal’s and risk her getting spooked.

The group of them made their way to the parking lot out back, and Shane updated the guys about his call. The whole team agreed Shane had to cultivate Crystal. Who knew what else she might share? Like a more specific location for Wednesday’s meeting—Derek had explained just how ginormous the marine terminal actually was. Turned out what they knew of the meeting’s location so far amounted to jack squat.

Despite their relative certainty that their presence at Hard Ink hadn’t been compromised, Nick had asked all the guys to go to the meet to provide cover. Church had clearly infiltrated UMC, so Shane understood Nick’s desire to err on the side of caution.

“Hey, whose bike?” Shane asked, nodding to the big black-and-steel beauty parked between his truck and Nick’s black Challenger. Hadn’t seen it back here before.

“Ike’s,” Nick said. “He belongs to a motorcycle club.”

Beckett came to a halt as his gaze narrowed on the motorcycle. “An actual social club or an MC?” he said.

“What’s the diff?” Marz asked.

“MCs often engage in organized crime to support their members. They’re big businesses,” Beckett said, his blue eyes going frosty. Shane turned a hard stare at Nick. Beckett owned a private security firm in D.C. and was never easily ruffled, so the big guy’s concern was enough to fuel Shane’s own.

“Oh goody. The Church gang on wheels,” Marz said, echoing Shane’s thoughts.

“Yeah,” Nick said, nodding. “There are several here in the city. I encounter them every once in a while serving papers. Ike’s group is an MC, but he keeps his club business separate from his work at Hard Ink.”

Beckett braced his hands on his hips and glared at Nick. “And you didn’t think to mention this? Is Ike something we need to worry about? Because we need problems from another direction like Noah needed more rain.”

Nick shook his head, his expression and stance relaxed. “No. Ike’s a good guy. Loyal to Jeremy. I’ve known him for a while, and I’m telling you it’s not a problem—”

“All the same,” Marz said. “I’d like to run some checks on Ike and this club when we get back.” Beckett crossed his arms and nodded. Shane couldn’t have agreed more.

“Fair enough,” Nick said, opening the rear passenger door of Beckett’s SUV for Becca. Then he, Marz, Beckett, and Easy piled into the big beast, too. Shane was riding solo so he could make Crystal’s in time. As he backed out of his space, he gave the motorcycle a last look. Nick had better be right about Ike. Last thing they needed was a threat from within.

On the drive to the park, anticipation of seeing Crystal again had Shane’s pulse beating a little faster, a little harder. He was walking on a knife’s edge where she was concerned, between the team’s need to use her for information and his own growing interest in her well-being.

As a rule, Shane didn’t pursue women romantically just to get intel. A wink and a flirtatious smile. Sure. He excelled at that, and it was harmless. But even in the field, he’d refused to seriously lead a woman on as a means of gaining access to info. It crossed a line for him he couldn’t stomach, maybe because of what’d happened to Molly. Who the hell knew. If that made him a less effective soldier, it also made him a better person. He believed that to his core.

Shane thought through everything that’d happened since he’d met Crystal at Confessions. He was attracted, no question. He was intrigued, without a doubt. So, he was interested. Whether he could act on that interest was one big question, and whether his interest in her conflicted with the team’s agenda was another. And he didn’t yet know the answer to either.

Within fifteen minutes, they’d made it to Patterson Park, a dozen-blocks-long square of green in the middle of the neighborhood east of downtown where Becca lived. Shane wasn’t sure what she’d said to convince her friend to meet her here versus her house, or the hospital, or any of a dozen other places he suspected might’ve been less unusual, but since the guy had agreed, that was all that mattered.

Near the edge of the park closest to Becca’s house, the team took up positions around the Pagoda, a hundred-year-old tower inspired by Asian architecture that stood at the edge of a wide field.

Easy, Marz, and Beckett took cover farther away, providing a perimeter, and the rest of them waited on the steps of the building. Despite the sunny spring afternoon, they were largely alone. In the distance, a group of sun-worshippers lay on blankets and on a far sidewalk, someone jogged with a baby stroller, but otherwise they had the privacy they’d wanted for this conversation.

About five minutes later, a man walked up the sidewalk that led from the street to the Pagoda. Everything about his body language and demeanor was open and straightforward, and he smiled and waved as soon as he saw Becca.

She jogged down the steps, and Nick stuck to her like white on rice. “Hey, Murph,” she called. “Thanks for coming.”

“Becca. How you doing? How you feeling?” he said, coming up to her and giving her a hug.

“I’m okay,” she said. “Let me introduce you to some friends and explain why I asked you to come,” she said. “Murphy Jones, this is my boyfriend, Nick,” she said. “Nick, Murphy.”

Nick shook the guy’s hand, a serious, appraising look on his face. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for coming.”

Becca waved Shane closer. “And this is Shane, Nick’s best friend and a former Army medic.” As they exchanged greetings, Shane took stock of the man. Tall, thin, with short brown hair, probably late thirties. He made eye contact and was completely relaxed in his posture. Nothing about him seemed shifty or uncomfortable, leading Shane’s gut to side with Becca’s instincts that the man was probably trustworthy.

Remained to be seen how he would react to their requests, though. Because they were on the wrong side of crazy, especially if this guy happened to be a fan of strict adherence to rules.

Becca didn’t hold anything back. “I’m in trouble, Murphy. And so is my brother.”

The relaxed expression dropped from Murphy’s face. “What kind of trouble? Wait. Is this related to what happened to you in the ER last week?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s a very long and complicated story, but here’s what I can tell you. My father was an officer in the Army and died in Afghanistan last year.” Along with a lot of other, better men, Shane thought, anger stirring in his gut.

“I remember,” he said, frowning.

“He was apparently into something he shouldn’t have been, and, long story short, people are now after me and my brother Charlie because of it. Bad people.”

Murphy’s gaze bounced between the three of them, then returned to Becca. “Holy . . . shit. Why can’t you go to the—”

“Police? Because we have evidence that some of the police are in on it. And apparently at least somebody at the hospital, because the guy that tried to grab me had access, an ID, and knew when I was working.”

If the story she’d told so far didn’t chase this guy off, Shane was going to be impressed. Even summarized, it sounded nuttier than a squirrel turd at a peanut festival.

For a long moment, Murphy pressed his fingers to his mouth. “Okay. Jesus. Why did you want to see me, then? How do I fit into all of this?”

“I need to ask you the biggest, craziest favor.”

He blew out a breath like he was girding himself. “Okay, ask. We’ve known each other a long time now. If I can help, you know I will.”

Shane’s gaze made a three-sixty sweep around them. Everything was still quiet.

“I need you to examine my brother and help treat him.” She and Shane ran down the list of his injuries with a bare-bones explanation of how they’d happened. Murphy asked some questions that they took turns answering.

“Long story short, he needs surgical intervention,” Shane said, because the guy might as well know the whole of what they wanted from him. “We were hoping we could use your rig for what essentially amounts to field surgery.” As he spoke, Murphy’s face paled.

“Shit,” he said, his gaze dropping to the sidewalk. When he lifted his head again, his eyes were full of questions. “Why can’t you take him to another hospital?”

“Because his wounds are too suspicious,” Becca said. “And this situation is so dire I don’t honestly know who I can trust.” And those were just some of the reasons.

“But you trust me?” Murphy asked.

Becca smiled. “I do. But I know I’m asking a lot . . . probably too much. I just don’t know what else to do, and Charlie’s running out of options.” That was the damn truth. Worse, Charlie didn’t have the time for them to stand around and dissect this from every angle.

The guy crossed his arms and stared off across the field.

Shane made eye contact with Nick and saw reflected back at him the same pessimism Shane felt. Sympathetic as he seemed, Murphy’s questions and hesitation made his doubts clear. Not that Shane blamed him, but they didn’t have the time to try to convince him, either.

After a minute, Murphy turned back to them. “You’re asking me to provide care beyond my training in a setting not totally suited for that care and using hospital equipment without proper accounting or payment.”

“In a nutshell,” Nick said, as Shane nodded.

Becca sighed. “Pretty much. I wouldn’t ask if my brother—”

“Shit.” He shook his head. “I’ll do it.”

Shane did a double take. Well, score one for the good guys.

“—wasn’t in such bad . . . What?” Becca asked, her eyes going wide. “You’ll do it? Really?”

He gave an uncertain smile, like he’d just crested the hill of a roller coaster and hadn’t expected the drop to be so great. “You’re not trying to talk me out of it, are you?”

“No!” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. They all chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Becca. Agreeing to help and being able to do it are two different things,” Murphy said. And as glad as Shane was that he’d agreed to help, he was also pleased to hear him keeping his promises modest. One thing you learned doing medical work of any kind was that there were absolutely no guarantees. Murphy seemed like a straight shooter, and Shane respected that.

“I know,” she said.

Shane nailed the guy with a stare. “I’m not trying to talk you out of it, either. But I was sure you were going to decline. So, I gotta ask, what made you agree?”

Murphy didn’t seem put off by the stare or the question. “I do what I do to help people who need it. If Charlie’s in as much trouble as you say and can’t otherwise get treatment, I feel duty-bound to see what I can do. Sometimes you gotta break some rules to do what’s right.” He shrugged and shifted feet, for the first time seeming a little uncomfortable, like they might disapprove of what he’d just said.

As if. They were living the sentiment themselves.

“That’s what I’d hope you’d say,” Shane said, shaking the guy’s hand. Then he glanced at his watch. If he didn’t go now, he’d be late. And he didn’t want to chance Crystal’s getting cold feet. “You two should take him to see Charlie. He won’t know anything until he examines him for himself.”

“Agreed,” Murphy said, as Becca and Nick nodded. “I don’t work until seven, so I’ve got time.”

“All right. I’ve gotta take care of that other thing,” Shane said. “I’ll meet you all back at the place later.”

After a quick round of good-byes, Shane headed across town toward Crystal’s apartment, torn between anticipation of seeing her again and fear that she’d had second thoughts since she’d called.

This time, he parked in one of the visitors’ spaces within the apartment complex, but one building down from Crystal’s. A quick survey of the lot revealed everything was quiet. He crossed between the parked cars, jogged around the building, and trailed the edge of the woods until he found a path.

A quiet, empty path.

Did he have the wrong place? Maybe there was another trail.

He scouted farther along but didn’t see any other place that seemed to fit Crystal’s instructions.

He looked at his watch. He was three minutes late. And Crystal was nowhere to be seen.

Goddamnit. Had he missed his chance?