“Now that we’ll be working together I guess you should know. Erren Rhodes to your rescue.”
“I’m not working with you.”
“Isn’t it a little too late for that decision?” He turned in the seat, leaning back toward the door window. “Look. All we need to do is retrieve Pike’s package and you’re done. Back to whatever boring job you do.”
Boring was correct. She wanted out in the field. More specifically, she wanted to be undercover. She’d spent years analyzing other officers’ work, verifying accounts of operations and preparing case information. She’d longed to be in the field. Instead she’d been transferred to the academy.
Whoever this man was, he was her clue to unraveling this mystery and she would stick with him to find her answers. It had to be the cop in her telling her she could handle this guy. After all, she had the gun, right?
“This’ll take some getting used to,” he said. “I’ve never worked with anyone before. You’re in, O’Malley. Admit it.”
“So how do we avoid every cop in the city who will be searching for us?” Every instinct told her that trusting this man would help clear her brother’s name.
“You mean they’ll be searching for
“Someone knows you’re in Dallas. Didn’t you say they ambushed you?”
“You’re probably right.” His nod was a silhouette against the passing cars. “Start by taking me to the package. We’ll open it up and find out what we’re dealing with.”
“This is ridiculous, Agent Rhodes.”
“Cut the agent bit. It’s too easy to slip up in front of the wrong person. Call me Erren or honey or babe.”
She watched him fix that gorgeous smile back on his face. Yes, it was totally for her benefit. And it was halfway doing its job.
“It doesn’t matter. I won’t be approved to work with you.”
“Who are we asking?”
Erren stared as O’Malley didn’t crack a smile.
“You aren’t sanctioned for this operation?” She continued to nervously drum her fingers on the console between the seats. “There’s no chance your supervisor can help clear this incident? No safe contact?”
“Let’s say the DEA will be ecstatic when I’m not causing any more problems. Pike was my safe contact. Always has been.”
“Good grief, you can’t mean to find Pike’s killer completely on your own. Especially with no plan or backup or resources.”
“I’ve got you, babe.”
“Why do you need me?”
Erren had no specific answer, but wasn’t it obvious? She wasn’t his partner, only an unanswered question in his investigation.
“Somehow Pike’s death has connected us, O’Malley.”
“Do you have a theory about
“I don’t know who left the map leading me to your house.” Had she opened her eyes the slightest bit wider? “Maybe
Glowering, his reluctant detective turned the key, shoved her Camry in gear and merged back into traffic. The photo had come from Butthead. His working theory? Beavis and Butthead would pick him up, follow the map and kill them both in her living room, leaving the picture. He didn’t know why yet…it was only a theory.
But something more than Pike’s picture had convinced her to come with him. He didn’t care why as long as she delivered Pike’s stuff and he could finish the job. He would find the murderer, give him what he deserved and disappear. Simple. Yeah, he definitely had a plan.
“Tell me exactly what’s going on.”
“I was ambushed. My cover’s blown. And my Dallas handler disappeared when shots were fired.”
“If they decided to take you out, no offense, but it wouldn’t require an ambush or shooting their own men. And that doesn’t explain the Dallas P.D.’s involvement.”
That x-ray vision of hers was starting to unnerve him. She looked as if she could see through the persona he cloaked himself with on the street. The same personality that had kept him alive for six years. He couldn’t afford to exchange innuendos or smiles with her, just the facts.
“It was a setup. Whoever was at the end of the alley wasn’t with Beavis and Butthead. Those two guys were as surprised to see the cops as I was.”
“Or impersonators,” she said loyally. She wasn’t naive, just staunch. Even after a dirty cop tried to kill her.
“I tried to surrender, but they kept firing.”
“And missed.” There she went shaking her head again. “So what were they really after? Your credibility? What’s your usual procedure when something like this happens?”
“Never happened.”
Why did he suddenly
“Dead doesn’t go away.” Her voice was emotionless and unsettling. “It gets cops crawling out of the woodwork, which is something they probably don’t need.”
Right answer. And logical. Pike had said O’Malley was one of the best. Yeah, she might have that rare quality he could admire. And admiration wasn’t something he spared for too many people—especially cops. Strangely, it was there the first time he’d looked into the detective’s emerald-green eyes. And he still didn’t know her first name.
“If I help you—”
“If?” Better for her to know there wasn’t a choice.
She shot him a look like… Just what was that look? Cute, yes. That one curious eyebrow thing suggested
“If I decide to help you, we’re partners,” she stated.
“Now wait a minute.”
“Equal in all decisions.”
“I don’t care how much undercover experience you think you have.”
“Equals.” Looking straight ahead, she was confident again and his insides were jumping.
“Nope.” He didn’t really have a choice and he could see the control slipping from his fingers. What was it about this woman that got under his skin? “No way.”
All he had to do was lie. Agree with her until he got the package. Other than “south,” she’d given no other directions. He still didn’t have a clue where they were headed. He could lead her to believe they were collaborating. Nothing new about that. So why did he feel compelled to be honest?
“This is for real, O’Malley. Don’t think for a second they won’t kill us.” Even in the dark, he was certain her knuckles turned white from her death grip on the wheel. “We can pretend to be equals, but it’ll be my experience that’s going to keep us alive. Got it?”
Truth had spewed from his mouth. She must have agreed since she didn’t disagree. He leaned back in the seat, very aware of the condition of his clothes. Everything hurt. His side wasn’t exactly on fire, but it wasn’t nice and comfy either. He clamped his hand over the wet gauze. As long as he stayed immobile he was fine, but he needed a couple of stitches or some Krazy Glue.
“I guess you should issue your orders using my name. It’s Darby.”
The unusual name fit. Darby O’Malley. Nice. A complete Irish bundle with dazzling red hair.
“Can you make out that alert sign?” she asked.
They were on a major thoroughfare cutting through Dallas, and the flashing alert ahead of them had nothing