Whiskey-Eyed Woman (Soldiering On Book 5) Read online

  Duncan glanced his way. “Of course.”

  “But you’re going in anyway?”

  Duncan grinned. “Of course,” he said again, with more force.

  Blake grinned back, but then his smile faded. “Just…don’t do anything stupid, right? Mandy would kill you if you died saving her. We all would.”

  Duncan held Blake’s gaze. “I can’t promise that. Getting her out safely is the only thing that matters, even above my own safety.”

  For a long moment, Blake held his gaze, assessing him. Then, he nodded. “I’d feel the same if it was Sierra—I did, even.”

  Duncan’s smile was wry. It seemed he hadn’t managed to fool anyone about his feelings for Mandy except himself.

  A knock sounded at the door. Duncan and Blake shared a look. If it had been Zack or Sam, they would’ve come right in. But who else would be here? Tulane?

  Duncan palmed a gun and made sure the safety was off before he stalked to the door. He peered out of the peephole and his heart sank when he saw Morris Lennox on the other side of the door.

  He holstered his gun and opened the door. “Mr. Lennox,” he said, trying to be respectful. But his irritation was obvious in his tight jaw. “What are you doing here?”

  Morris glared at him. “Now I hear, that after nearly getting my daughter blown up, you’ve now got her kidnapped.”

  Duncan sighed. “And I’m doing everything I can to get her back.”

  Morris pushed past him and strode to the living room. He looked around Zack’s house, made a face, but said nothing.

  Duncan closed the front door and followed him in. “How did you find out about Mandy?” he asked.

  Morris slanted him a glance. “I’m her father. When you reported her missing—kidnapped—the police came to question me.”

  Duncan scoffed. “But we already knew who took her, so what was the point?”

  Morris narrowed his eyes. “Apparently people find it difficult to believe an upstanding businessman would kidnap a woman, particularly not when he’s friends with the woman’s father.”

  Duncan growled. “So what did you tell them?”

  Morris shrugged. “The truth.”

  “And what’s the truth as you see it?”

  Morris eyed Duncan, sizing him up. “I told them my daughter had gone into business with a man that continually endangered her life. That for all I knew, he was the one responsible for all the nightmares she’s been through recently. A man that lured her away from a good job in her family company so she can sink her money into a losing prospect and nearly get herself killed.”

  He sneered at Duncan, who swallowed painfully. What Morris said wasn’t entirely untrue. All those feelings of inadequacy he’d managed to bury since Mandy was kidnapped welled up again, swamping him. He wasn’t good for her. She did deserve better. And she always would.

  Once he rescued her—which he would—Duncan would close the company. It would suck, for sure. But it was the only way to keep Mandy safe since she’d already made it clear she had no intention of walking away from Soldiering On. The team would understand, once he explained his reasoning. They’d find other jobs easily, particularly since they’d spent half the past year in the news for their heroics. They’d be disappointed, but what else could he do?

  Decision made, he turned back to Morris and stared the man down. “I understand you’re angry with me right now, and rightfully so. But, first, you have to understand you could never, ever hate me as much as I hate myself for putting her in danger.” He paused as Morris’ eyes widened, but the man didn’t interrupt. “Secondly, we could fight about this all day, but it won’t get Mandy back. We have a plan, one that will get her out alive and safe. So, either help us, or leave, so we can get on and do our jobs.”

  Morris swallowed. “What can I do to help?”

  Chapter 12

  Zack arrived back with news of Mandy’s whereabouts, causing a flurry of activity.

  “She’s in a warehouse not far from the dock location Tulane asked you to meet at.” He dragged a map towards them and showed them exactly where.

  “How can you be sure?” Blake asked, studying the map.

  “Tulane arrived back just as I was leaving. I guess he’s stopped stewing about the search warrant at his house.”

  Duncan swallowed. “So he’s back there with Mandy now.” Duncan’s heart sank at the thought. He could be doing anything to her. He ruthlessly shoved that thought away.

  “Zack, call Paul. Get him to hack into city records and get blueprints of this place, and anything that runs underneath. If I can get in through a tunnel or something…”

  Zack nodded and pulled out his phone.

  “Blake, load the car. I’ll be out to help you in a minute.” Blake grinned at Duncan and did as he asked.

  “Morris?”

  “Yes?” the older man asked a little nervously. His eyes darted between Duncan, his team, their maps and plans, and the ceiling, as if he was overwhelmed by the weapons and their activity.

  “That press conference I asked you to set up? Now’s the time.”

  Morris straightened his shoulders. “As you asked, I’ll be as distracting as possible and hope it helps you out.” He hesitated. “But are you sure this isn’t a job for the police?”

  “They can help. Mainly by arresting Tulane afterwards and throwing his ass in prison.”

  At that, Morris swallowed and said nothing more as he headed out the door. Duncan had no idea whether he’d actually do as he asked, but it wasn’t an essential part of the plan. It would be a nice bonus if it worked to distract Tulane and nothing more. He just needed to keep Morris out of the way so he could get to Mandy.

  What Duncan hadn’t wanted to say was the cops would need a search warrant, and probable cause for Mandy to be in the warehouse. Duncan couldn’t provide that to them, so he’d lose his chance to get to Tulane before he was meant to swap Mandy for the vital evidence against Beaton and the men who ran it.

  Sam finally returned, looking calm and collected as always. “I hear you found her?”

  Duncan nodded. “We’re working on a plan of attack now.”

  “Good.” She threw Duncan a small object and he caught it out of the air. A phone.

  He looked at her in askance and she shrugged. “We’ll need to contact you. It’s a burner. Can’t be traced.”

  He nodded at pocketed it.

  “So what’s the plan?” she asked.

  “Let’s see if Paul’s got us our blueprints.”

  He had, so they pulled it up on a laptop and spent an hour figuring out the best way to enter the warehouse.

  “I’ll need someone on the outside with night vision goggles,” Duncan said. “So I know where all the bad guys are and hopefully where Mandy is being held.”

  “I can do that,” Zack offered.

  “Paul will monitor the security cameras.”

  “Yup,” said Paul through the phone. “I’m already watching the traffic cameras nearby, and am about to have access to satellite footage.”

  Duncan hummed. “Great work.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Sam asked.

  “Sam, if you’re up for it, I wouldn’t mind a sniper, too. Block off their exits and create a distraction when we leave.”

  Sam nodded. He wasn’t asking her to kill, but knew she would if she had to.

  “And me?” Blake asked.

  “One person would be easier to get into this warehouse than two…” Duncan said doubtfully.

  Blake gave him an irritated look. “Maybe, but you’re not going in there alone.”

  “Maybe a pincer attack would be best. We both come in from different sides.”

  Blake considered the blueprints. “That might work. I could go over the wall.”

  Duncan nodded. Even with one hand, Blake was the best climber he knew.

  Plans in place, all they needed now was to prepare. They had three hours until midnight. Hopefully that would be more than enough.

>   Destiny called Blake the instant the arrest warrant for Gregory Fairfax was in her hands. She and Hannah shared a triumphant grin as they waited for Blake to pick up. This was it.

  Blake answered. “What’s up Destiny?” He sounded frazzled, not his usual easy-going self.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. She hunched further into her jacket to block the cool night air. The street outside the judge’s house was dark and silent as they stood by the car, and one streetlight was out. A new development, surely, since this neighbourhood was too nice to allow something like that to stand for long.

  “Nothing, we’re just prepping to go get Mandy back.”

  Doubt niggled at her. “Okay, I’ll let you get back to it. Can I speak to Duncan?”

  “Yeah, though Sam got him a new phone. I’ll get her to text you his number.”

  Destiny thanked him, then waited while Blake handed the phone to Duncan. She avoided looking at Hannah, not sure what Duncan might say. Hannah had gone to a lot of trouble to get that warrant.

  “Destiny, what’s the update?”

  “We got the search warrant,” she told him. “We’re going to arrest Tulane.”

  “Shit. Can’t you hold them off for a while? We need to get Mandy out. Their priority will be to arrest Tulane, not keep her safe.”

  Destiny swallowed. “I don’t think I can. They’re on their way.” She glanced at Hannah, who stared at her with worried eyes.

  “How do they know his location?”

  Destiny swallowed. “I think Morris Lennox told them where he might be.”

  “Double shit. That traitor. Okay, we’ll move up our timeline. Hopefully we can get to her before all this goes down.”

  They hung up, and Destiny stared at her phone for a long moment before gathering the courage to look at Hannah. Instead of disappointment, Hannah’s expression showed compassion.

  “If this was any other police force, I’d say your friend would be fine. They’re usually pretty good at keeping civilians out of harm’s way.”

  Destiny nodded. “But who knows with this lot. Someone could very well have been paid to kill Mandy in the crossfire.”

  Hannah squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them to reveal an intensity Destiny had never seen before.

  “I hate this. I hate being unable to trust our system. This isn’t what I became an ADA for.”

  Destiny stepped forward and put a tentative hand on Hannah’s arm. “Maybe not. There needs to be more people out there like you. Making a difference.”

  “I can’t do this alone,” she whispered.

  “You’re not alone,” Destiny told her. “I’m fighting the same fight.”

  Hannah placed her hand over Destiny’s and rubbed her thumb over Destiny’s knuckles. “I know. And it means a lot.”

  Destiny didn’t tell Hannah she’d been having similar doubts, lately. That she might quit the police force. It wouldn’t help now.

  “I know it’s hard. I get it. It drags on me every day. And I know I can’t do this forever. But, for now, let’s just do what we can to get Mandy out safe, then we can lament the paths we’ve chosen for ourselves, yeah?”

  Hannah nodded, and the two of them slipped into Hannah’s Audi. It was a nice car, sedan, but not so nice that Destiny was suspicious of where the money to pay for it came from. She hated that most—the doubt and mistrust in people that dictated her life. The problem was, a lot of it was warranted. She’d been burned by some of the things she’d seen and experienced in the justice department, and she didn’t think that would change anytime soon.

  “Why did you join the police force?” Hannah asked, interrupting Destiny’s train of thought.

  She started the car and pulled out onto the quiet street, making her way towards Zack’s house. They may as well wait there for news of the mission.

  Destiny tapped her fingers against her thigh. “I had a brother. I told you about him—Michael.”

  Hannah glanced over at her, eyes already soft with sympathy. She could no doubt guess what had happened.

  “He was the sweetest guy. Everyone that met him, loved him.” She took a deep breath. Her eyes watered as the images flooded her mind. She’d seen that damn security footage of the incident one hundred times at least. “Late one night, he was in an all-night corner store, picking up some snacks on the way home from work.”

  Hannah made a sound of sympathy, but didn’t interrupt.

  “Two guys came in with guns, threatened the store owner. Michael called the cops, but it was too late. The two guys shot the shopkeeper and stole all his cash. Police said later they were probably hopped up on something.”

  “So what happened?” Hannah asked softly.

  “Michael went to help the shopkeeper, put pressure on the wounds. The cops showed up, took one look at a Black man hovering over the bleeding shopkeeper, and shot him without asking any questions.”

  Hannah gasped. “Oh, that’s so awful.”

  Destiny let out a hollow laugh. “Yeah. The worst of it is, though, they didn’t even go to trial. Didn’t get suspended. No punishment at all for killing an unarmed man trying to do the right thing.”

  Destiny stared out of the window at the passing cars, wallowing in the memories once again. It had been the worst time in her life. She’d been serving in Iraq at the time, and had only just made it back for the funeral. Michael was all she’d had—their single mother had died a few years before—and she’d been alone ever since.

  Destiny startled as a hand wrapped around hers, squeezing tight. She stared at Hannah’s hand on hers for a long moment, then flipped her hand over to entwine their fingers together. She slowly raised her gaze to meet Hannah’s to find her expression warm with empathy.

  Maybe Destiny wouldn’t be alone forever.

  “I’m so sorry,” Hannah whispered.

  Destiny gave her a slight smile. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Still…” Hannah paused. “Do you ever see the cops who did it? Are they still on the force?”

  Destiny shook her head. “One is. I see him sometimes, but he’s at a different precinct. He doesn’t even know who I am. Every time we pass each other he gives me this blank look as if I’m nothing.”

  Hannah winced and Destiny recognised she was squeezing her hand too tight. “Sorry,” she mumbled, trying to let go. But Hannah squeezed back, refusing to be released.

  “That must be really hard.”

  “It is. Worse because there’s nothing I can do. He was investigated and cleared.”

  “What about his partner?” she asked.

  “Killed in the line of duty,” she said, with some satisfaction. “It’s a shame he got to die a hero, but at least he’s dead.” She couldn’t help the bloodthirst that welled up in her at the thought. Whoever had shot that man had done the world a favour.

  They fell silent for a while as the car cruised the increasingly empty streets.

  “So, if that was your experience with the police force, why did you want to join it?”

  Destiny clenched her jaw. “I was under some delusion that I could change it from the inside. If I knew the system—if I was a part of it—I could figure out where it went wrong and work on it. Even lead by example.”

  Hannah sighed. “Didn’t work out that way, huh?”

  Destiny shrugged. “It was too big, too much, for one person to do it alone. It has to be a top-down approach. The culture and leadership need to change first.”

  Hannah hummed in agreement.

  “So, in other words, to make a difference, I’ll need to be on the force for at least twenty or thirty years, get a senior position, gain everyone’s trust, then make sweeping changes across the board,” Destiny joked, though unfortunately the words were all too true.

  Hannah chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

  Destiny fell silent. She wondered what Hannah would say if Destiny told her she planned to leave the force. They’d bonded over their sense of justice, their fight for what was right.
Would Hannah hate Destiny for giving up? For packing it all in and letting the force go to rot?

  Destiny didn’t know, so she kept her secret to herself. Maybe, after they got Mandy back, she’d feel brave enough to confess.

  Maybe.

  Chapter 13

  Duncan stared down at the open manhole, wincing at the foul smell wafting up from below.

  “Are you sure there isn’t another way in?” Duncan asked into his earpiece.

  “Nope,” replied Paul, sounding suspiciously cheerful. Duncan narrowed his eyes. Paul was not a cheerful person.

  “Fine. I’m going in. I might be out of signal range once I’m underground, so keep an eye on things.”

  Blake, Zack, Sam, and Paul all murmured their affirmative. Taking a deep breath, Duncan squatted and swung his legs over the lip of the manhole. He placed his feet on the ladder and began his descent, pausing only to re-cover the manhole above him.

  The sounds shifted and changed as Duncan neared the bottom. He waited until his feet splashed into water—at least, he hoped it was just water—on the ground below, then eased away from the ladder. The smell was so potent in the enclosed space that he had to breathe through his mouth, ignoring the way it seemed to coat his tongue.

  He pulled a LED light out of his back pocket and switched it on, sweeping the beam around the tunnel. It was about seven feet high, tall enough for Duncan to stand upright without stooping. The walls were bare of graffiti and grime, and there were about four inches of liquid coating his boots.

  “Can you guys hear me?” he asked into his earpiece.

  Only the crackle of static replied.

  Duncan sighed, hefted the pack on his back, and started down the tunnel. He alternated between a brisk walk and an easy jog, torn between haste and the need to go easy on his bad leg. Unfortunately, the manhole they’d chosen had been a few miles out from the warehouse. Any closer and he risked being seen by Tulane or one of his men.

  They’d struck it lucky when Paul had seen the old manhole on the map, no longer in use due to the shifting boundaries of the warehouse. Paul thought he could see the exit on the satellite footage, but it was hard to tell if the brown smudge was what they suspected. If he could have, Duncan would’ve preferred to check himself that the manhole on the other side wasn’t buried under any paving or road, but he had to hope he’d get lucky.