The Rogue
Chapter 29

Addison examined the case board for the nine thousandth time. She knew the plan forward, backward, and sideways, of course, and it wasn’t more complicated than any other bust. But she needed something to keep her brain occupied.

Something other than the memory of the wildly intense s*x she’d had with Ryan last night, where she’d been so consumed by her need to have him, to be with him not just in the moment, but forever. The way he’d needed her back with equal measure. The way he’d whispered “I love you” into her hair as she’d been drifting off to sleep, and yeah. Yeeeeeah. She needed to focus on this case.

Not how tempted she’d been, despite every single thing she’d ever felt about relationships, to say it back.

Addison’s phone buzzed softly on her desk, tugging her back to the Intelligence office. Master Ah-lam’s name flashed over the screen, and she scooped the phone up quickly, her heart in her throat.

“Everything is fine,” Master Ah-lam said, before Addison could even say hello.

Addison’s breath escaped on a whoosh of relief. “So, this is a social call?” she half-teased, trying to loosen the tension at what lay ahead.

“In a way, I suppose,” Master Ah-lam said. “Today will be busy. Lots of chaotic energy. I wanted to check in with you to make sure you’re okay.”

“Of course,” Addison said, prompting Master Ah-lam to laugh.

“Perhaps I should have phrased that differently. I know you’re prepared,” she said. “But are you okay?”

The way the woman could zero in on Addison’s brainwaves, even over the phone, was downright freaky. “It’s a lot,” she said. “Bishop is dangerous, and I have no doubt he wants to do Chloe real harm. That scares me.” The honesty of her words sent a curl of surprise through Addison, but she didn’t shy away from it.

She’d spent far too much of her life being scared of feeling things. It was time to face her emotions, head-on. The good, the bad, and the ugly. “I know what it’s like to be afraid, and I don’t want anything to happen to her. But I also know she’s safe with you, and I believe we’re doing all we can to eliminate the threat against her.”

“Chloe is strong,” Master Ah-lam said. “And she’s right to trust you, and all your instincts.”

“Thank you. For…everything,” Addison said.

The smile in Master Ah-lam’s voice warmed her. “Be well, Addison. I know you’ll do what must be done.”

They said their goodbyes, and Addison turned back to her work with a clear mind. Her unit-mates filtered in, one by one, until everyone was in the office. Sinclair spun a look over all of them, then sent his gaze to the case board before saying, “Let’s roll through it one more time.”

Addison nodded and took the lead. “Jimmy will be at the Crooked Angel at four o’clock. Kennedy is expecting us.”

It helped to know a bar manager who was amenable to loaning out her office for covert meet-ups from time to time. Never mind that she was Xander’s sister, or that, once upon a time, both she and Xander had helped them track down a dangerous arsonist. But they couldn’t take the risk, however slight, that Bishop might be paranoid enough to tail Jimmy on the day of the meet. If Bishop saw him at the precinct, they’d be screwed.

“I’ll wire him up, then he’ll head directly from the Crooked Angel to the park on foot to meet Bishop at the bench on the east path,” Capelli continued. “I’ll join the surveillance team to run point on comms as soon as Jimmy’s en route.”

Hollister nodded. “Isabella and I will cover the park’s main gate.” He indicated two spots on the aerial shot of the park Capelli had flashed over the center monitor on the array.

“I’ll be at the far end of the east path to cover the exit, there,” Garza said, and Maxwell nodded at Addison.

“And we’ll close in as soon as Jimmy makes the exchange, then take Bishop into custody.”

Sinclair examined the board with a steely stare, then nodded. “And how’s Jimmy?” he asked Capelli, who pulled up a live feed of the outside of the auto body shop.

“Quiet as a mouse. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the only device we let him have is a cell phone that we’re monitoring twenty-four/seven, or that he’s been under house arrest since we sprung him three days ago.”

They’d relieve Jimmy of his ankle monitor when everything was said and done, but until Bishop was in custody, they’d use it to track him, just to be sure he didn’t run. Truly, it was as good a setup as they could hope for.

“And Bishop?” Sinclair asked.

“Texted Jimmy last night to confirm the meet, which Jimmy did,” Addison said. Bishop had used a burner phone, turning it on to send the text, then off less than a minute later, but at least they knew he’d be there.

“Okay,” Sinclair said. “We’re in the home stretch on this one. Let’s go catch a bad guy.”

Addison nodded. “Copy that.”

When Bishop showed, she’d be ready to take him down.

Myles wanted to fling his burner phone against the wall hard enough to make it shatter. His anger slithered through him, filling his veins with venom and turning his vision red.

Meet is a setup. Cops are onto you. Run.

Even though Myles had squeezed his eyes shut, the text message he’d received still blazed across his vision. It had arrived from a number he hadn’t recognized, but he knew from experience that Jimmy kept a burner phone of his own hidden beneath one of the floorboards in his office. Myles, too, kept extra burners—this one that Jimmy had texted him on was only one of several no one else knew about—and God damn it, how had all of this gone to shit so badly?

Chloe’s brother, sneered the voice in his head. If Ryan hadn’t interfered, none of this would be happening. Chloe’s mind wouldn’t have been poisoned against Myles. Those f*****g detectives wouldn’t have dug so far into his business that he’d had to go into hiding. And he’d be with Chloe, now, just like he’d planned, showing her how much he loved her. That they could be together forever.

But no. Ryan Dempsey had ruined all of it. And now, the police knew about Jimmy, which meant Myles was in real danger.

He needed to run. Hide. Regroup.

No. No. No, NONONONONONO, screamed the voice, so loud that it reverberated in his skull, making his temples throb. He needed Chloe—he’d been desperate without her, ever since they’d taken her away. He’d tried so hard to replace her. He’d wanted to see her so badly that he’d even taken a huge risk and followed both Ryan and that bitch, Detective Hale, from a distance.

But, much to his disappointment, neither of them had had any contact with her. No trips to a safe location. No odd errands or drives out of town. No contact at all that he could replace, and Myles had grown more and more unglued with each passing day. He needed Chloe. He loved her. But he couldn’t have her. He couldn’t even see her, and the thought of it drove him mad with desperate rage.

Myles paced the tiny room he’d been squatting in, stabbing a hand through his hair. He couldn’t look for Chloe, now, not when the police were close enough to be a real threat. He was going to have to leave her behind, and he’d never know what it was like to have her. To k!ss her, f**k her. To make her give him everything. To make her love him.

Anger spread through him, making his hands shake. This was all Ryan’s fault. Ryan had started this mess. Ryan had led the cops to his door. Made it so he couldn’t have Chloe.

And now, before he disappeared, Myles was going to make him pay.

“Hey.Be careful where you put that thing, would you? This is my lucky hoodie.”

Capelli frowned at Jimmy’s grumbling, but didn’t change his movements as he placed the tiny button camera on the grommet of his sweatshirt. “You do realize that the laws of reason and probability dictate there’s no such thing as luck, right? And even if there were, imbuing it into an inanimate object—a hoodie, for example—would be impossible.”

Jimmy looked at Addison, one brow arched. “Is he serious?”

“Deadly,” Addison said. Turning toward Capelli, she asked, “Good to go?”

“Affirmative.” Capelli handed her an earpiece, then held up a portable monitor that showed a video image of the room from Jimmy’s perspective. “The button camera is a go. Do you want to test the mic, Detective?”

“Sure.” In a well-practiced move, Addison got her earpiece into place and left the room, shutting the door behind her. “Standing by,” she said quietly, Jimmy’s voice filtering through her ear a second later.

“Okay, so am I supposed to say something, or…”

Addison returned to the room, nodding at Capelli. “All good.”

“So, do I get an earpiece, too, or what?” Jimmy asked, and Capelli looked at him as if he’d just suggested they entrust him with gold bullion.

“I do hope you’re joking.”

“You don’t need one,” Addison said. The last thing they wanted was for Jimmy to be privy to the unit’s comms. “The button cam has a microphone in it, and it’s functional. We’ll be able to see and hear you the whole time. Just stick to the plan and we’ll be fine. Speaking of which”—she turned toward him more fully, her game face locked in place—“Let me tell you one more time how this is going to go.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Jimmy said, but since that was so debatable, Addison just stared him down until he lifted both hands. “Fine. It’s your breath.”

“I’m going to leave first. Ten minutes after that, you’ll go on foot to Montgomery Park. You’ll take the route we discussed, and you won’t deviate for any reason.”

“Right, right.” Jimmy sighed. “If I take so much as a step the wrong way, you’ll know.”

“That’s accurate,” Capelli said. “Not only is your camera active, but so is your ankle monitor.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Jimmy said, gesturing to his boot, which was keeping the device from sight.

“No problem,” Capelli said, and Jimmy shook his head.

“Right. So, I head into the park through the main entrance and take the east path. There’s a bench about two hundred yards in. That’s where Bishop and I agreed to meet. I give him the stuff”—he held up a manilla envelope full of fake documents—“then let you swoop in and arrest us both. Did I miss anything?”

“Yes,” Addison said. “If you tip him off in any way—”

Jimmy cut her off with a nasty snort. “Can we get on with this, please?”

Addison parked herself directly in Jimmy’s line of sight, unbudging. “If you tip him off, I will make it my personal mission to make sure you get the maximum punishment for every single thing the FBI can replace on your hard drives, and they will replace it all. By the time you get out, there will be flying cars and robots running half the planet. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Jimmy muttered.

“Good,” Addison said. “Then, let’s go.”

Per the plan, she left first. Maxwell was parked at the corner, and he got out and moved to the passenger’s seat as she approached.

“Not even going to fight me for it, huh?” she asked, unable to curb the tiny smile tickling the corners of her mouth.

“Nope. This one’s all yours. We good?” He jerked a thumb at the Crooked Angel, now in their rearview.

“Yep. But I’ll be even better in an hour, when Bishop’s in custody.”

The trip to Montgomery Park took only a handful of minutes. Like the rest of the unit, Addison had prepared for the bust before she’d left the precinct. Her body armor vest was hidden by a bulky hoodie, her bright blond hair braided tight and covered by a black beanie to make it less conspicuous. Her weapon was holstered close against her body—not super convenient, considering the hoodie situation, but going undercover meant making concessions. She’d have plenty of time to reach beneath it and draw right before they took Bishop into custody. The meet spot was in one of the park’s most secluded areas, and they’d thankfully been able to cordon off some of the surrounding paths earlier in the day under the pretense of spraying fertilizer to further minimize any bystanders.

“You want to get into position?” Maxwell asked, looking at his watch. They usually made it a habit of being in place with time to kill—you never could be too careful—so Addison blew a breath past her nerves and nodded.

“Yeah.”

She double-checked her comms, then reached for her phone to power it off and lock it in the glove box, per protocol for any bust. But before she could hit the button, it buzzed in her hand, the sight of Ryan’s name on the screen making her heart squeeze.

“Hey,” she said. “Everything okay?”

“Whoa, yeah. I’m sorry. Everything’s fine,” Ryan said, his voice smoothing over her frayed nerves. “I thought I’d get your voicemail. I know you’re about to be, ah, really busy.”

“I am, but it’s okay,” she said, giving Maxwell a “one minute” sign with her fingers as he got out to give her the sixty seconds in privacy.

“I won’t keep you,” Ryan said. “I just…shit. I’m just climbing the walls over here.”

Addison smiled in spite of herself. “You run into burning buildings for a living, Ryan. It makes sense that sitting still and waiting on something like your sister’s safety would drive you bat-shit crazy.”

She infused the words with just enough of a smile to mellow the tension, and bingo. He exhaled in a soft chuckle.

“Yeah. Anyway, be careful, okay?”

“I will,” she promised. “I’ll call you the second I can after he’s in custody, okay?”

“I’ll be waiting with my phone in my hand. No pressure,” he tacked on, and now Addison’s tension eased, too.

“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Hanging up, Addison locked her phone in the glove box, then got out of the car to meet Maxwell on the sidewalk.

“You can give me all the shit you want later, okay?” she said. “But first, let’s go get this done.”

“As if I needed extra incentive,” Maxwell said, grinning. They fell into step together, both activating their comms. The surveillance team was set up in a utility van about a block north of the park, and the rest of the unit was already in place. Addison checked their surroundings from one side as Maxwell took the other. Because Bishop would recognize either one of them on sight, their position was deep in the shadows, behind a thick tree line off the east path. Once Bishop met Jimmy on the bench, they’d advance, then, as soon as the exchange was made, they’d act.

In a matter of minutes, they were going to take Bishop down. Then, Chloe would finally be safe, and Bishop’s other five victims would have justice.

This ended now.

Adrenaline filled Addison’s system, sending her heart to a steady thump-thump-thump in her ears. She went to counter it with a deep breath, just as she always did. But then, an image filtered into her mind of Ryan’s hand on her heart, her hand mirroring his as it splayed over his chest in return, and her composure snapped into place.

“I have eyes on Jimmy. Main park entrance, walking toward the east path,” came Hollister’s voice from deep in her ear, and yes. Yes. This was happening.

“I’m here,” Jimmy muttered, sounding none too thrilled about it. Addison hated being in shadows—her position meant she and Maxwell wouldn’t be able to get eyes on anything until they got confirmation that Bishop’s a*s was on the bench. But listening was better than nothing, so she did so with care.

“Jimmy’s heading down the east path,” Isabella said. “Shifting position to keep eyes on him.”

“Copy that,” Capelli said.

Everything was going perfectly to plan. Addison looked at her watch. Seven minutes to go. Each of them lasted approximately fifty years, and by the time five o’clock rolled around, she was ready to burst.

“Anything?” she asked Maxwell, spinning another gaze around the path. They were far enough from the bench to not have any way to gauge what was happening, and oh, God, this was going to drive her crazy.

“Negative.” Maxwell frowned, following her gaze with his own. “Capelli, do we have eyes on Bishop?”

“Negative.”

The word sent Addison’s gut into a spiral. “Where the hell is he?” she whispered.

“He’s only two minutes late.” This from Sinclair, who’d set up a block south of the park’s entrance to cover the last base. “Give him some time.”

Right. Biting off her own arm would be easier than that. But Addison had no choice but to stand by, which she did, even though it drove her crazy.

“Uh, what do you guys want me to do, here?” Jimmy asked under his breath five minutes later. “Bishop is never late.”

“Something’s weird, here,” Capelli said over comms. “We don’t have eyes on Bishop from any angle, and he should be here by now.”

“Do you want us to fan out?” Hollister asked. “Take a look around in case we missed him somehow?”

“Negative. Hold your positions,” came Sinclair’s voice, and God, Addison was going to lose her f*****g mind.

“Boss, something’s wrong,” she said, and another minute, then two dropped off the clock before he responded.

“Isabella, you and Hollister take a walk. Not far,” Sinclair warned. “Just see if you can get eyes on him.”

“Hellooooo?” Jimmy asked, clearly growing frustrated, and Addison shook her head, dread balling in her belly.

“This isn’t right. Bishop’s never been late before, and he needs this new ID more than ever.”

Maxwell nodded. Still… “We have to hold our positions,” he said past his comms. “Sinclair has the lead.”

After another eternity, Isabella said, “We have nothing. No sign of Bishop anywhere.”

“Me either,” said Garza. “He’s not at the east entrance.”

Addison looked at her watch, her heart jammed in her throat. “He’s not late,” she whispered, her fear taking control of her senses. “He’s not coming.”

“Capelli,” Sinclair said, his voice low and urgent. “Get Ah-lam on the phone. Now.”

Addison scoured their surroundings, her instincts screaming at her that something wasn’t right. That she needed to move. Act. Do something.

The park around them was eerily quiet, dusk falling in every corner, darker and darker until Capelli said, “All clear at the dojang. Chloe is safe. Repeat, Chloe is safe.”

“Then, why isn’t Bishop here?” Addison asked.

But only the silence around her answered.