The groan Cain let out as Maddie went down the stairs was testament to that.
Chapter Eighteen
“They’re gone?” Shelby tried to massage away the headache that was building behind her left eye. She’d spent the morning trying to get in touch with Muriel, willing to apologize for something she had nothing to do with, if only she’d just pick up. “What exactly does that mean?” she asked the person calling, the guy Agent Hicks had assigned to unofficially keep an eye on Cain and company.
“It’s not a difficult concept, really, or am I speaking too fast? They’re gone, all of them. I took a walk up to the fifth floor this morning when I didn’t see Emma Casey arrive at her usual time.”
Shelby interrupted and hoped this guy didn’t blow apart an already shaky situation. “Did it occur to you that she might just be running late?”
“Gee, I wonder why I didn’t think of that,” he answered tersely. “I waited almost two hours before going across the street sans the coat and tie, and I even picked up flowers in the lobby so I could pretend I had the wrong room. No one was on the door, and the bed was made up and ready for another patient. She’s gone.”
“Why don’t you get back here? You can give us a report about what you have so far.” She was still talking into the phone, but also getting her jacket back on. It was time to visit Annabel Hicks and convince her to put together another team for Cain, as well as Vincent’s and Ramon’s organizations.
An hour later Joe and Lionel were back, along with their old partner Tony. The agent Annabel had put on Cain reported that Emma had left the hospital the night before at her usual time, flanked by at least six guards, including Merrick and Lou. Shelby wasn’t the only one who thought that was more than a little strange. The Cain they’d studied for so long that they knew how she took her coffee was never left alone and vulnerable; she never went anywhere without one of those two a few feet away.
After a fan around the city, they were all shocked to find not only Cain, but also her immediate circle and most of the people on her payroll, and Muriel, gone.
Tony looked at all of them, then lashed out at Shelby. “You wanted to befriend these people. I hope you see now she’s played us like a bunch of assholes again.”
“Was there some warrant for her arrest that I don’t know about?” Shelby shot back. “We’ve already had one agent who made this all about personal shit, and he’s currently cooling his ass down at central lockup. If you want to join him, tell us now before some other innocent person gets shot.”
“Innocent? Do you want to fuck her so bad that you’d sit here and tell us Casey is innocent?” Tony stood up so fast his chair clattered to the floor.
“God, Tony, you should just turn in your badge and give Bracato a call. I hear he’s got an opening after Kyle got caught. After all, if a person has been under the microscope before, they deserve everything they have coming to them, am I right?” Shelby slammed the door behind her.
“Anthony”—Joe said the name with a good amount of sarcasm—“that was way out of line. I suggest you tell Agent Hicks you’d rather serve on some other team. I can’t speak for Lionel, but I have no use for you. Any man, or woman for that matter, I can’t trust to watch my back isn’t someone I want standing with me.”
Lionel looked from one man to the other before standing. “That’s right, Joe. You speak for me too. I’d rather not have you on our team, Anthony. And you owe Shelby an apology. We all do for ever doubting her loyalties.”
“Joe, come on. You know as well as I do Shelby has some personal bias.” Anthony’s volume rose a little when Lionel left the room. “And she has the nerve to accuse me of not looking at this with a level head.”
Joe glared at Anthony and wondered what had happened to make him so bitter. Everything had been fine until the day Muriel had waltzed into the warehouse where Kyle had shot Cain and handed their asses over to them on a platter. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you’d better figure out how to make it right before I go to Agent Hicks myself and file a complaint. Lionel’s right. You owe Shelby an apology, and it better be heartfelt.”
Joe had started for the door to see where Lionel and Shelby had disappeared to when he thought of one more thing. “Maybe you ought to take some leave. You know how these petty personal vendettas get around to the other agents.” It was a low blow, but Joe wasn’t in a generous mood. “Isn’t that what got your father in trouble in the first place during his stint with the bureau?”
“Fuck you, Joe.”
“No, Tony, if anyone’s getting fucked it sure as hell isn’t going to be any of the three of us. Unless one of us gets lucky, then it’ll all be voluntary, don’t you worry.”
“It’s Anthony. Is that so fucking hard to remember?”
*
Shelby gripped the steering wheel hard, trying to bleed out her anger through her fingers. What Anthony had just spouted off about had hurt, but it wasn’t all wrong. When she’d become an agent, she’d thrown herself into the job.
The night on Vincent Carlotti’s plane when Cain held her life in the palm of her hand, along with the bugs she’d planted, those lines between right and wrong had been blurred but not erased. This case had become a little personal for her as well, but not because she wanted to bed Cain Casey. She’d just come to see that the members of the Casey family weren’t the monsters so many had made them out to be.
After glancing in the rearview mirror and noticing that the redness of frustration had faded from her face, she started the car and headed to the one place where she might find some clues as to what had happened to the amazing disappearing Caseys. She was certain that Muriel had set up temporary offices at the scene of the FBI’s embarrassment to rub it in their faces.
The warehouse along the river where Cain had shipped her load of legal liquor, only to be shot for it by Barney Kyle, had a few men walking along the roof with high-powered rifles strapped to their backs and a collection of BMWs parked in front. The kind of car young, snotty attorneys working for Muriel would drive.
“I’d like to see Muriel Casey, please,” Shelby told the receptionist.
“Do you have an appointment?”
The question made her wonder if Muriel was there and surveillance had just missed her. “She’s here?” she asked, unable to hold back her curiosity.
