Dark 'N' Deadly (Federal K-9) Read online

  The deep pile of shit the kid had stepped in just got a whole lot deeper. Eric couldn’t be absolutely certain what was in those drums, but he could guess. Explosive material. When sovereign citizens and explosives got together…

  People died.

  Chapter Two

  Tess eased her beat-up Camry into a space on Mulberry Street. Her belly flip-flopped as she stared at the three-story gray courthouse that looked more like a mausoleum. Somewhere inside that building was her baby brother, the little boy she’d abandoned ten years ago.

  He must hate me.

  She’d thought about taking him with her, but without money to buy food and clothes and put a roof over their heads, it seemed more prudent at the time to leave him where he was until she could get settled and find a job. When that time had come, she found a discreet way to get money to him and make sure he had her cell phone and email address, but he never responded to any of her messages and never reached out to her. Until five hours ago.

  Right before getting arrested.

  A lump the size of a grapefruit lodged in her throat. Regardless of how much she’d tried making things right with him, the guilt still ate away like acid in the pit of her stomach.

  “Let’s do this.” After one hugely deep breath, she turned off the engine and threw her keys into her leather shoulder bag. The plan was to get more information on the charges Jesse faced, then find a way to pay his bail so he didn’t have to spend a single night in jail. I owe him that much.

  She was about to lock up the car but turned at the last second to dig out the heavy black metal pen she kept with her at all times. One half was an actual ballpoint pen, while the other housed a small blade that could be whipped out at a moment’s notice. It probably wasn’t legal to carry it, but the risk was worth it. At five-foot-two, she’d learned the hard way that people tried to take advantage of women, particularly ones so petite.

  Better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission.

  Figuring she’d have to go through a metal detector, she stowed the pen in the console, then locked up the car and slung the bag over her shoulder.

  Strands of beads and crystals attached to the bag made comforting clicking and clacking sounds as she crossed the street and stepped onto the curb. She dug her fingers into her skirt pocket and tightened her fingers around the three-inch Herkimer diamond quartz crystal, the one she kept there for good luck.

  Lord knows we need it. Jesse and her.

  Between the handgun and whatever was in those drums, he faced serious legal problems. Her issues were far less pressing at the moment, yet they were totally screwing with her chi.

  She nearly stumbled, catching herself before plowing headfirst into a mailbox.

  Like it or not, she was about to face her past, one she’d worked damned hard to put behind her.

  Her life paths were not only on the verge of crossing but crashing at the intersection. Of all the people who could possibly stand between her brother and serious jail time, why, oh why did it have to be Eric Miller?

  Special Agent Eric Miller, to be precise.

  It had been nine months since she’d seen Eric. It had been for the absolute best that nothing had ever happened between them, but the prospect of coming face to face with him again was enough to make her heart beat faster and her belly twist into knots.

  She gave the Herkimer diamond in her pocket one last squeeze then tugged on the courthouse’s massive door handle.

  Once inside, she showed her ID to a guard in a navy blue jacket who directed her to place her belongings in a plastic bin then walk through the metal detector. She did as instructed and the machine remained silent. No bells, no whistles, and no flashing red lights. After collecting her bag, she hastily made her way to the U.S. Marshals Service office on the second floor. Her sandals made flopping noises that echoed in the cavernous granite corridor. Christ, this place really is like a mausoleum. Inside and out. Along the way, she began questioning her decision not to ask for help.

  When she’d left Springfield that morning, it had been too early to wake her boss and best friend, Andi, so she’d left a cryptic message on the Dog Park Café’s voicemail, notifying Andi that she wouldn’t be in for a couple of days due to a family issue. Beyond that, she’d said nothing.

  Tess liked Andi’s new husband, Nick, but he was a Massachusetts State Police sergeant, and the last thing she’d needed was another cop getting involved in her family issues.

  My family issues would choke a wild boar.

  Besides, the last time she’d gone to a cop for help, things hadn’t gone well. Granted, that was a long time ago, but the betrayal still stung.

  A woman behind a thick glass window directed her to an uncomfortable-looking row of plastic chairs. Tess sat then looked around the waiting area at the many police emblems on the wall and the clock. With every turn of the second hand around the dial, she gripped her bag tighter. Eventually, her fingers cramped, and her palms began to sweat.

  Heavy-booted feet echoed on the other side of a metal door. She sat rigid, staring at the door as it creaked open. A man wearing khakis, a navy-blue polo, and a gold badge clipped to his belt came through. He was short, stocky, and with brown hair. Not blond, blue-eyed, and Viking-size. Like Eric.

  The breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding whooshed from her mouth. Pent-up adrenaline ebbed from her veins like a receding tide, leaving her exhausted, and this ordeal had only just begun.

  “Miss McTavish?”

  Good guess, considering she was the only person in the waiting room.

  Don’t be snarky.

  “This way.”

  The cop—a deputy U.S. Marshal—held the door for her, then indicated she should follow him down the dingy gray hallway. Behind them, the heavy metal door closed with a resounding thunk. Her entire body tightened.

  So, this is what a caged animal feels like. Trapped and helpless.

  More booted feet clumped at the end of the hallway, then several uniformed officers rounded the corner. Not Eric. She was both relieved and disappointed. As the arresting officer, he had to be skulking around somewhere.

  “Where is Special Agent Miller?” she asked the deputy.

  “Out getting a sandwich.” He stopped to open a door then waited for her to go in the room.

  Nice. Her brother was locked up, about to face the powerful wrath of the federal government, and all Special Agent Miller could think of was filling his belly.

  “Thank you.” Taking a deep breath, Tess went inside. As the door clicked shut behind her, she started to turn and ask if she was locked in but stopped when the young man sitting beside a small table stood. Her throat went dry.

  Jesse.

  He was tall and skinny and wearing a filthy white T-shirt. For a long moment, they stared at each other. His shock of curly red hair and green eyes were so like her own. He was the same as she remembered, yet different. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest.

  The boy she’d once known—sweet and lovable—was still there in his eyes and in the gentle expression of his face. Now, those childlike nuances mingled with the gangly limbs of a teenager still on the verge of manhood. Raw emotion left her incapable of speech.

  “Tessie?” Her name croaked from his lips as he stood. Tears began streaming down his pale cheeks.

  “Oh, Jesse.” The bag she’d had a death grip on fell to the floor as she ran past the table and threw her arms around him.

  Long, skinny arms came around her back, holding her tightly. Tears spilled nonstop from her eyes. Her breaths came in shaky sobs. It’s a miracle. After all this time, they were together. Tess vowed then and there never to leave him again. No matter what hoops she had to jump through, she’d find a way to get him out of this mess. It wouldn’t be easy because she knew damn well their stepfather had orchestrated it.

  As much as she wanted to continue holding her little brother, there was work to be done. If she didn’t get a grip on her emotions, she’d never be able to
get him—or herself—through this.

  Still sniffling, she eased away enough to look up into his watery eyes. “Look at us.” She laughed tightly. “Messy Tessie and Messy Jesse.” At her use of their dead mother’s affectionate nicknames, Jesse grinned. “Please forgive me. I never should have left you there.” It had been the most difficult thing she’d ever done.

  “Don’t be.” He shook his head. “You had to get outta there, and I knew that. Ha—”

  “Stop!” She pressed her fingers to his mouth, glancing at the monitor bolted to the ceiling in a corner of the room, then looking quickly back to Jesse until she was certain he understood her concern. The monitor didn’t appear to be on, but she couldn’t be sure. Standing on her tiptoes, she put her mouth to his ear, whispering, “Do not mention his name. Ever. Don’t mention any of them by name. It will only make things worse. Do you understand?” When he nodded, she removed her fingertips from his lips.

  He pulled her closer, putting his mouth to her ear. “He never hurt me. He took it all out on you. When you ran away, he went crazier than an outhouse rat. If you stayed, he woulda killed you. Or even worse things woulda happened.”

  “I know.” Her stomach felt queasy. Memories—bad ones—rushed back in a painful blur. “But this is about you now.” She gave his shoulders a squeeze. “We can talk about other things later. After I get you out of here. For now, I need details about what got you in here in the first place.”

  “Okay, but it sucks and you’re not gonna like it.”

  They both sat, and when he began his story, his Alabama twang became more pronounced. She’d lost her accent years ago.

  “A man started talkin’ to me at a gas station. Said he’d give me five hundred dollars if I’d drive some drums up to New Jersey. He gave me his truck and told me to get here by eight this morning, then wait for a call tellin’ me where to take the drums.”

  Tess frowned. “Who was this man?”

  “Dunno.” He shook his head. “But he gave me two hundred up front for gas.”

  “Are you telling me a total stranger gave you money and his truck?” When her brother nodded, suspicion screamed at her. “Are you sure he doesn’t work for—” she glanced at the monitor “—him?” Meaning their stepfather. After all, he’d had some of the local cops in his pocket.

  “I never saw this guy before.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her suspicion growing. Their stepfather had never let either of them leave Alabama. For anything. “What did our loving stepdaddy say when you told him you’d have to leave the state to haul those drums?”

  “That’s the weird part. He pushed me to go. Started babbling some shit about bein’ a man and learnin’ responsibility. Aside from that, all he said was to keep my phone with me in case he needed to get a holda me.”

  Her mind spun with possible explanations for their stepfather’s uncharacteristic behavior, none of them good. “What’s in the drums?”

  “Dunno that, either.” He grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “I swear I don’t. I asked the guy, but he wouldn’t tell me. Told me to keep my mouth shut about it, and if I was stopped by the cops to give ’em the usual papers and lie my ass off.”

  The usual papers. Meaning sovereign citizen papers.

  If this guy didn’t work for their stepfather, she’d eat her foot. She resisted the impulse to chastise Jesse for being so damned gullible, but it wouldn’t help matters, and it would only upset him more.

  “Okay,” she breathed. In truth, Jesse’s predicament was a thousand miles from being anywhere near okay. She’d only said the word in a half-assed attempt to make her and Jesse feel better. Not working. “And the gun?”

  “I didn’t know it was in there. Ya gotta believe me, Tessie.” His eyes filled with more tears, but he did an admirable job holding them back. “I gotta get out of there. Home, I mean. Things are getting so fu—messed up. I can’t go back.”

  “Okay.” She bit her lower lip. Again, that word she didn’t feel in the slightest. “You’re not going back there. I’ll make certain of it. Right now, we need to focus on getting you out of jail, so work with me.” He gave a slight nod, but the frown on his forehead and the look in his eyes were skeptical.

  She stood and began pacing the small room. How will I get him out of this? “This isn’t Alabama. Not everyone has a gun here, and the fact that you were driving a truck without a driver license, registration, or insurance and with a gun in a hidden compartment is bad. Gun laws are very strict in the northeast, and you just turned eighteen. You won’t be cut the same slack afforded a minor.”

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?” Jesse’s countenance was grim.

  Tess pressed a hand to her brow. Yes, it’s bad. She didn’t dare voice the extent of her worry. Part of her couldn’t believe their stepfather had put Jesse in such a precarious and terrible predicament. Then again, she wouldn’t put anything past him. The selfish sonofabitch. The only question was what the heck was behind all this?

  Seeing her brother’s eyes begin to glisten again nearly reopened her own floodgates, but she refused to give up. She sat in the chair opposite him. “I need to get you an attorney, but I don’t have a lot of money.” Andi paid her as well as possible, but between rent and her online tuition, there wasn’t much left for extras. There was only one thing left to do. She’d take the tuition set aside for next semester and however many semesters it took to get Jesse a competent lawyer. “Somehow, I’ll find the money. If I can’t, we’ll settle for a public defender.”

  He shifted and scrunched up his face in the same way he’d done as a little boy just before saying something she wouldn’t like.

  “Jesse?” she said in an admonishing tone, knowing he was keeping something from her. Something important. “What did you do?”

  “I, uh.” His grimace intensified. “I mighta told the agent I didn’t want a lawyer and that I’d tell him everything as soon as you got here.”

  “No!” She smacked her hands on the table, making him flinch. “You can’t tell him anything. We need to talk to a lawyer first, then we’ll figure out what to say to the agent.” That agent being Eric, of course.

  They stared at each other across the table, much as they’d done as kids. A Tessie-Jesse standoff.

  “No, Tessie. No lawyers.” Soft, gentle eyes she remembered from their childhood were now hard, his jaw set in stone. He was no longer the little boy she’d once known.

  She pressed her lips together, choking down the warning she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs: Please don’t grow up just yet.

  Her brother was caught somewhere between a boy and a man, and she was scared to death for him.

  “I want a deal,” he continued, “and I want it fast, before he finds out. Things have changed. They’ve gotten worse. He thinks anyone who gets grabbed by the ATF or the IRS or the FBI is too stupid to live and gets labeled a snitch. If word got out that I was arrested by the ATF, he’ll kill me. I swear he’ll do it. You know as well as I do that our family isn’t like other families.”

  “Of course, I know that.” It sounded as if things had spiraled way out of control, and her brother was caught in a deadly vortex.

  “I’ll take care of this, Jesse. We’re in it together, and I won’t leave you again. I promise.” It was a promise she would never break.

  “I believe you.” He covered her hand with his. “It’ll be okay. Besides, for a fed, this guy’s not a total douche. He even got my leg cleaned up.”

  “Wait, what?” Pushing from the table, she peered under it to see white gauze wrapped around his ankle. “What happened to your leg? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. A dog bit me—a K-9 dog.” To her surprise, Jesse grinned. “It’s the coolest dog ever. You should see it.” His grin widened. “It did whatever it was told, and I don’t even know what language that fed was talkin’ to him.”

  Oh, right. While she’d forgotten Eric was a K-9 officer, that was probably the only thing she’d forgotten. Everything else about the man�
�what he looked like, the sound of his voice, the way he made her heart race—was tattooed on her memory for all eternity.

  It doesn’t matter. Anything she could possibly want for herself was totally eclipsed by what her brother needed. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.

  “We can’t trust him.” She leaned in across the table. “He’s a federal agent. An ATF agent. You can’t tell him about the family. If he asks something that you’re not sure about answering, look at me. We’ll communicate like we did back home.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  She twisted her hands in her lap, hating the idea of lying to Eric, but this was too important to take any chances. If they didn’t at least withhold certain information and come up with a plausible story, there’d be zero chance of preventing Jesse from winding up with a firearms felony on his record, something that would haunt him for the rest of his life. And those drums? Whatever was in them couldn’t be good.

  Why send Jesse, of all people, to deliver them? None of this made any sense, which worried her even more.

  Voices came from the other side of the door, one of which she recognized.

  Eric.

  His deep voice made her breath catch. A sense of foreboding filled her mind, while at the same time, anticipation shot up her spine.

  “We’ll play this by ear,” she whispered. “Okay?” He nodded, and she stared at the door that was now cracking open.

  “Tess?” came her brother’s worried voice. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Her heart fluttered, and when the door opened, she held her breath.

  Two men walked into the room, both wearing black cargo pants and polo shirts with badges embroidered on their chests. One of them was Eric.

  Even if she were standing, at about six-three or four, he would tower over her like a skyscraper looming over an anthill. Piercing blue eyes drilled her like twin laser beams, and she resisted the urge to squirm. Was it him making her face heat hotter than a furnace, or the fact that he was an ATF agent?

  Both. Definitely, both.