Cheating Justice (The Justice Team) Read online

  Brice pulled to the side of the road. “What now?”

  “Buena. That’s the street. Brice, pull up those pictures Ethan sent us. Quick.”

  “Mitch,” Caroline huffed, “what is your problem? You damn near broke my hip.”

  Annoyed with Brice’s slow pace, Mitch grabbed the phone and starting swiping through photos. No. No. Not it. Nope.

  There.

  Son of a bitch.

  “That’s it. Holy fuck.” He hopped out of the truck while scrolling back to the photos of Tommy’s body. Had to be. Had to.

  Caroline followed him, stalking behind, trying to keep pace. Right here.

  He stopped. Studied the picture for a second, looking for…there. A street sign visible from the parking lot. He looked around and squinted against the sun, judging the distance between the bar in the backdrop and Tommy’s body.

  Son of a bitch. “This is it. He died right here.”

  Caroline ripped the phone from his hands. “What are you saying?”

  “Buena. I saw the street sign in the photos earlier.” He pointed to the green and white sign at the end of the block.

  Her mouth dropped open. “Ethan said Tommy went to his girlfriend’s house and then had a couple of things to do. And then he’s gunned down a block from a straw buyer’s house? That cannot be a coincidence.”

  “Well, shit,” Brice said from behind Caroline. “We need to knock on that door and see if our guy lives there.”

  According to Marty’s report, the straw buyer’s name was Jesse Lando. Brice had googled the guy and found nothing. Not even a Facebook page.

  “And if no one’s home?” Mitch asked.

  Caroline narrowed her eyes at him. “We are not breaking and entering.”

  Fuck that. “Of course not. You can sit in the truck and wait for someone to come home.”

  “And what will you do?”

  “Best you don’t know. Let’s go back.”

  They did, parking on the side of the street and killing the engine. Mitch looked at Caroline. “Are we going with your lame bible salesman act or do you have another idea?”

  “Bible salesman?” Brice said.

  “Don’t listen to him, Brice.” Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright with the chase. “He’s trying to annoy me by yanking my chain. As he so often does.”

  And what a nice chain it was. Mitch chucked her under the chin. “Stay here. I’ll go to the door and see what happens.”

  Mitch got out, hearing Caroline protest under her breath. He ignored her. Never mind her and the adrenalin rush, he had to focus. Had to calm down, get his thoughts in order and concentrate.

  No telling who he might be dealing with on the other side of that door. Could be the man who’d gunned down his best friend. At the very least, it was a straw buyer who might’ve sold the gun to a major black market gun runner. Either way, Mitch’s fist was going to find the guy’s face.

  Behind him, he heard a door slam. He turned to tell Caroline to get back in the truck, but found Brice walking up to him. Brice held up his hands in an act of surrender. “She’s worried you’re going to kill this guy. Told me to back you up.”

  Smart woman. Mitch surveyed the house. No activity inside from what he could see and hear. The neighborhood was rundown, nobody out in the heat of the day. Maybe the owner of the house was at work.

  Or maybe he was inside watching Mitch and Brice approach his house and wondering who the fuck they were.

  A front window was open and a lace curtain blew in the light breeze. A planter by the front door held succulents and a glass ball. Homey touches for a straw buyer.

  It would have been helpful if Caroline hadn’t burnt her bridge to the FBI’s databases. He could have had her look up the owner. Mitch was running totally blind here.

  What’s new? He signaled Brice to stay back as he walked straight up to the door. If the bastard was going to shoot him, so be it. He was done dicking around.

  The wooden door had a knocker of all things. He raised it, let it fall. Waited.

  Seconds ticked by. He glanced back at Caroline in the truck. She was watching, eyes wide. He’d bet anything she had her handgun drawn.

  He knocked again. From inside the house, he heard someone call, “Coming!”

  It wasn’t a man’s voice. No, sir. That was a female voice if he’d ever heard one. And he’d heard plenty.

  Sure enough, the door opened and he found himself looking at a petite, dark-haired woman. “Yes?” she said. “May I help you?”

  Not exactly the image of a hardened criminal. She looked to be early twenties, if that. Her large brown eyes sported glittery eye shadow and false eyelashes, and she was dressed in a simple tank top and cut-off shorts. Her feet were bare, toenails painted bright red. JLO had nothing on her.

  Except this girl was the total picture of innocence.

  Looks could be deceiving. She could have a weapon hidden behind her back. Mitch gave her a charming smile. “I’m looking for Jesse. He around?”

  The woman’s face shut down. “What do you want with him?”

  “A friend of mine said he knows a lot about guns. Got a few questions for him.”

  Her dark eyes shifted to Brice, then back to Mitch. “He’s not here.”

  “Know where I can find him?”

  “He moved out a few weeks ago. I don’t know where he’s living now.”

  Damn. Still, if this chick was recently deep-sixed by Jesse, she might be willing to drop a dime on him. “You kick him out?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  Mitch shrugged. “He cheating on you?”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “He’s my brother, idiot.”

  Aha. Leverage. A bitter ex-girlfriend might have an ax to grind, but a sister would want to protect her brother. How could he use that to his advantage?

  Mitch heard footsteps behind him on the cracked sidewalk. Caroline sidled up next to him. “Jesse’s your brother?”

  The woman scanned each of their faces, stepping back a few inches. Retreating. “Who are you people?”

  Caroline flashed her badge. The woman flinched. “Your brother has landed himself into a federal mess. We need to speak to him.”

  Look at her—strong-arming the only lead we have. First, she was all—we need a plan. Now, she was charging in like a bull. Mitch rocked back on his heels, waiting to see if the Bad Cop act worked.

  Jesse’s sister stared at them, her lips firmed, but she didn’t slam the door in their faces. “I don’t know where he is. I can’t help you.”

  “Can you get a message to him?” Caroline said. “Surely you have his cell number?”

  If she could get a message to her brother, Mitch was sure it would be, get the hell out of town.

  The woman shook her head. Her long hair fell in waves over her shoulders. “You’re not the only people looking for him. He stopped returning my calls two days ago.”

  Interesting. “Who else is looking for him?”

  “A couple of men came by here the other night. I told them the same thing. My brother’s skipped town and I don’t know where he is.”

  Caroline was all FBI agent. She handed the woman a card with Brice’s number handwritten in the corner. “Your brother purchased a weapon used to kill a federal agent just down the block from here. He can’t stay on the lam forever. He needs to contact us or he’ll spend the rest of his life in prison.”

  The woman froze, reworking her facial features into a detached look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Right. And he was an angel in disguise. “The gun used was traced back to him,” Mitch said. “He’s in deep. But we can help.”

  She started to say something, stopped. “Why should I trust you? Even if I did, I can’t help you.”

  Caroline was still holding the business card. She lowered it, turned to Mitch. “Give me a second here.”

  He didn’t want to. Didn’t want to give her control and walk away. He did it anyway. Grittin
g his teeth, he spun on his heel and motioned for Brice to walk back to the truck with him.

  Before he was out of earshot, he heard Caroline switch from Bad Cop to Good Cop. “Ms. Lando—”

  “It’s Maria.”

  “Maria. I understand. I do. I have a brother and I know what it’s like to want to protect him. Like you, I’d do anything for him. But Jesse is up to his eyeballs and the only way out is to talk to us.”

  Leaning against the rusted front bumper of the truck, Mitch watched Caroline once more offer the card. Miracle of miracles, the sister took it.

  Then she quietly closed the door and Caroline returned to the truck.

  As they all climbed in, Brice driving and Caroline sliding into the middle, Mitch said to her, “Since when do you have a brother?”

  “I don’t. But I know what’s it’s like to love a man who can’t help himself and I definitely know how to manipulate a potential witness.”

  Hot damn. This woman was all he’d ever wanted. All her gumption and determination, and the way she was laying it all on the line to help him. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing, letting Caroline take control of this case. “What’s next, Bad Cop?”

  She cut her eyes to him, then back to the road. “I’m the good cop. You’re the bad cop.”

  He continued grinning. “Not from what I’ve seen today.”

  She sniffed, but was smiling. Ah, yes, she was enjoying this walk on the dark side whether she’d admit it or not. “Brice, I want to talk to Ethan again. Can you arrange a meeting?”

  He grabbed his phone from the dashboard. “I’m on it.”

  Mitch slouched down and let out a long, slow breath. We’re going to get this figured out, he mentally promised Tommy. I will clear your name. Even if it’s the last thing I ever do.

  Brice parked at the end of a row at the Town Square shopping mall, one of those mammoth buildings with five huge anchor stores and an endless amount of smaller shops rounding out the assortment. Caroline, being a destination shopper, in and out in ten minutes or less, never understood the lure of malls. Unless, of course, the patrons were shopping junkies. Then this would be a crack house and they’d never want to leave.

  “Ethan said he’d meet us in the food court. It’s dinnertime so it’ll be packed. Orange baseball cap this time.”

  Mitch yanked the handle, threw his weight against the door and shoved it open, the usual squeal grating Caroline’s nerves. What she wouldn’t do for that little Prius.

  She slid to the end of the bench and hopped out, adjusting her blouse that by now must have stunk like a sewer. Along with that Prius, she could use a shower. Hopefully, the RV they’d be squatting in had one, because using their credit or ATM cards for a hotel would be a major no-no. Donaldson, if she knew him at all, probably already had her transactions being monitored. And she’d only brought two hundred in cash with her. They’d have to make it last.

  Inside the mall, the frigid air-conditioning blasted her, bringing her mind into sharper focus. If her energy had been lagging, the cold air instantly took care of it.

  Mitch checked the mall map. “Food court is dead center. Can’t miss it.”

  “We’re eating while we’re here. I could eat a cow right now.”

  Mitch grinned. As usual, his mind had probably gone straight to the gutter. Caroline sighed. “Is everything an innuendo with you?”

  He shrugged. “I’m a guy.”

  “It’s true,” Brice said. “I can’t go ten minutes without thinking about sex.”

  Caroline threw her hands up. “Too much information! Did I really need to know that? You know what? Forget it. Let’s just do this.”

  The three of them marched through the gigantic mall, a modern day Mod Squad on a mission. This was one for the Caroline Foster books for sure.

  They passed store after store toting short skirts and sexy, cleavage exposing tops. Caroline glanced down at her rumpled clothing and decided she needed to update her wardrobe. Maybe add some sass to it.

  Maybe.

  Not with Mitch around though. He’d be a pain in the ass about it.

  They reached the food court and, just as Ethan had said, the place was packed. The only open tables were on the far side near an indoor playground. All around her, the aroma of cooking meat and frying French fries alerted her ravished system. I’m definitely eating a cow before I leave here.

  “Do you see him?” Caroline asked.

  “Not yet. He’s here though.” Brice’s phone whistled. “This is him. He sees us. He’s at a table straight ahead.”

  Caroline scanned the tables, her gaze landing on a man lifting an orange cap to scratch his head. “Got him.”

  “Yep,” Mitch said.

  He took a step, stopped and reached back to let Caroline lead the way, his hand landing on her lower back and guiding her forward.

  How things had changed. In their Bureau days, no matter how innocent the gesture, he’d never have put his hands on her. Here they were, once again in that complicated world that fell between co-workers and one-time lovers. They simply had to navigate the landscape.

  Not an easy task when spending so much time squeezed into a pick-up and its not-so-roomy bench seat. The closeness threw her, made her want more of it and that was something she needed to reconcile. Because, unless they figured out what Tommy had been up to, Mitch might be going to prison.

  They approached the table and she met Ethan’s gaze. He remained seated, which Caroline understood to be his effort to not draw attention. Brice took the seat next to him and Mitch and Caroline sat across from them.

  “What’s up?” Ethan asked.

  With the noise level, whispering would be impossible, but she’d speak only loud enough for Ethan to hear, eliminating any nosey-bodies around them. “We have the name of the guy who bought the weapon.”

  Ethan’s head dipped an inch. “The one that killed Tommy? You’re shitting me.”

  “I shit you not.”

  “I thought the ballistics report was sealed.”

  “It is indeed.”

  Mitch propped his elbows on the table and scooted forward. “You don’t want to know.”

  Ethan nodded, accepting Mitch’s advice. “Who’s the buyer?”

  “Jesse Lando,” Caroline said. “We visited the gun shop where the weapon originated. MH Firearm and Supply. It’s owned by Marty Highland. Have you heard of him?”

  “I know the shop but I’ve never dealt with the owner. He moves a lot of guns though.”

  “Yeah,” Brice said. “According to Marty, he’s been bitching to ATF about the number of weapons bought by this guy Lando. ATF told him to keep quiet. He’s written to every official in New Mexico and no one is investigating.”

  “What does that say to you?” Caroline asked.

  Ethan eyed her. “You think Lando is undercover?”

  “Could be, right?”

  “I know all the undercovers in my office. If he’s undercover, he’s not ours.”

  Mitch drummed his fingers on the table. “Can you ask around? We talked to his sister—she lives at the address Marty has on file—and he’s in the wind since Tommy died. The kicker is, she and her brother live just down the block from where Tommy was killed.”

  “No shit? So maybe Tommy was meeting with him that night. He killed a federal agent and is laying low.”

  “According to his sister, he’s never been in trouble. We know he doesn’t have a record or he wouldn’t have been able to buy a gun. Add that to what his sister said and this guy is suddenly murdering a federal agent? Makes no sense.”

  “Look, Ethan,” Mitch said. “Can you run this guy’s name by some people? See if it rings a bell? You said you were out of the loop on whatever Tommy was doing. Maybe one of the taskforce agents knows something about this guy.”

  Ethan sat back, nudged his cap and scratched his head. Stressed.

  Leaning forward again, Caroline touched Ethan’s arm with just the tips of her fingers. “I’m sorry. I know what
we’re asking. I’m right there with you on that limb. My SAC already caught me poking into this case. He’ll catch up with us soon so we need to move fast. If you can ask around about Lando, it’ll save us time. But don’t do it if you don’t feel right about it. When this is over, you will have to deal with the backlash. For us, it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re knee deep. You can still walk away.”

  A woman pushing a stroller squeezed behind Caroline’s chair, bumping her. “Oh, so sorry!” the woman said. “We’re like sardines in here tonight.”

  “No problem,” Mitch said. He unleashed one of his magic smiles, drawing the woman’s attention from Ethan and Brice’s side of the table. Flirting complete, he hunched forward. “We should get some food before people start noticing.”

  Yes. Food. Good idea.

  “You go ahead,” Ethan said. “My wife is waiting on me. I promised her I’d be home tonight.”

  Brice and Mitch stood, but Caroline stayed seated. “Mitch, get me the biggest burger and fries you can find.”

  “Will do.”

  The two men walked off and Caroline rested her chin in her hand. “I meant what I said. These two cowboys have nothing to lose. They don’t work for the government anymore. You and I, we have careers. You have a family.”

  Ethan dragged a pen and a notepad out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Jesse Lando?”

  This was it. He’d do it. Caroline relaxed her shoulders and the tension stuck there broke apart. This was a good man. “Yes. L-A-N-D-O.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The RV was nothing but a popup camper alongside a small lake. A few trees gave some cover, but otherwise, it was all lake. Mitch sighed as he, Brice, and Caroline stared at it. They were going to be squished together again, which would have been awesome if it was just Caroline and him.

  She looked as thrilled as he was about the tight quarters. “Please tell me this camper has a shower.”

  Brice shook his head. “We’ll be lucky if it has running water.”

  Mitch sauntered to the door and opened it, the stale smell of mothballs hitting his nose. Popping his head inside, he saw nothing that suggested there was a sink or toilet. He’d squatted in worse places, but at least those all had running water and a toilet. “Bright side? At least there’s a lake.”