Deep Undercover

“Intimidation?” She shook her head. “Violet’s mentioned Lou being harassed lately. Something about gentrification.”

“Yes, that kind of thing. The threat of another explosion, rumors that scare tenants away.”

“So...you’ve been researching this because...?”

He took a swig of coffee and checked the clouds coming in. “I didn’t like leaving the case unsolved, and I need something to prove I’m not just out to get promoted. I really care about this case. I’m ambitious, true. But...this is dangerous stuff. The Williamsburg explosion turned out to be more powerful—enough to take down a small building and kill a woman. Tommy alerted and our partners are rarely wrong on these things. But...we didn’t find enough proof.”

“So how is he getting away with this?”

“I think someone higher up is hiring him to scare property owners. He’s meticulous in hiding his tracks but now he’s getting bolder. Bombers like notoriety, but they don’t want to get caught so they prefer to leave little signatures but not much evidence.”

“So these real estate agents are trying to scare vulnerable people out of their apartments and homes so they can raze them and build?”

“Yes. They want the property, but not the buildings.” He sat silently, as if weighing his next words. “They make people back off on contracts or force owners to sell quietly and quickly. They’ve got a system of intimidation and bullying tactics and the bomber is just the tip of the iceberg. No one can prove anything so the owners cave and wash their hands of the entire mess.”

“So it’s not just about the bomber? You want these corrupt real estate agents to end their bullying ways.”

“I do, for so many reasons.” Looking out over the street, he let out a sigh. “The woman who died in that explosion worked with my grandmother at a nearby hospital. I knew her, Bree. Helen Proctor. She lived in Williamsburg all of her life and most of that time in the apartment she shared with her husband before he died. She was good to me when my grandmother got sick and...after she passed away.” Twisting his napkin, he added, “I knew she lived there but...but I couldn’t believe it when they brought her out in a body bag.”

And right after that, Jordan Jameson had died and Gavin had been put through the wringer as a possible suspect. No wonder he seemed to have a big chip on his shoulder.

More like the weight of the world.

“I’m sorry, Gavin. So sorry.” Brianne’s heart burned with understanding. She’d heard Gavin’s grandmother had raised him after his mother left him as an infant. She didn’t bring up any of that, though. “So this is personal for you?”

“Very,” he admitted. “At the time, Jordan knew about my connection to Helen, so I asked if I could investigate the alleged bombing on the side, on my own time if needed.”

“And he agreed to that?”

“He did after I explained—Helen Proctor didn’t deserve to die that way. He knew, Noah knows and now you. I’d like to keep it that way. No one else, okay?”

“Okay.” She could see how much this meant to him. But how far would he be willing to go?

“So the chief went along with your plan?”

“He told me to be careful. Jordan and I go way back, but we had a falling out when we were in the academy together and later, as everyone knows, I resented him getting promoted. I think he initially gave the go-ahead to this because we both felt bad about what happened—a stupid fight over a training episode. Just too stubborn to apologize.”

Brianne could now see why Gavin seemed so solemn at times. She wanted to hear more about what had happened between them, but she’d save that for another time. “You feel guilty about that?”

“Of course I do.” Shrugging, he said, “Then I got put on the suspect list regarding his murder. That stung, you know. I wish I’d kept my opinions to myself, but I understand how my complaining looked bad.”

“We all know you wouldn’t kill Jordan, Gavin. And we have proof that you didn’t. I read the report. You worked a swanky fund-raiser in Midtown and both the commissioner and the mayor saw you there. Then you arrived home around midnight and your roommate said you guys talked for an hour and both went to bed. Your vehicle never left your yard until after nine that morning, according to the traffic cameras in the area.”

“You read the report?”

“Of course I did. Jordan was last seen at six a.m. But I didn’t have to read a report to know the truth.”

He shot her a look that held appreciation and admiration. And something else she couldn’t read. “Thank you, Bree.”

She nodded and took a long sip of coffee.

“So now you’re on this quest for two reasons—you knew a woman who died at the hands of this possible bomber and...you owe it to Jordan and now the new chief, his brother Noah, to show your true merit?”

He studied her, probably looking for a judgmental frown. When she didn’t give him one, he nodded. “Yes, I guess that’s it in a nutshell. This is important to me.”

Brianne leaned forward. “So you’re after the Tick. What’s the plan?”

“Well, I’m after him, but I’m also after the people who’ve hired him. This is a classic case of intimidation. Mafia-style.” Glancing around, he made sure they were alone. “After comparing a couple of random explosions around Manhattan, I’ve been discreetly asking questions, talking to wealthy investors, stuff like that. We’re talking seven figures or more—a lot of money. If someone is sabotaging developers and property owners by bombing buildings so they can step in and take over, it could only get worse from here.”

Confused and needing to know the bottom line, she asked, “But Gavin, you’re a K-9 cop. You’re usually not involved in the investigative part. I can’t believe the department agreed to this.”

His expression went from hopeful to disappointed in a flash. “I’d been doing this on the side, on my own time, after I got a tip from Beanpole. But I kept Jordy up-to-date.” Sighing, he added, “After Jordy went missing and was found dead, I went to Noah to get permission to continue working on this case. You know the rest. This had to be put on hold. We all want to find Jordy’s killer. That’s top priority for the precinct.”

“But you’re still working on this, too, clearly.”

He nodded and then stared out into the street. “I’m not hiding it from Noah or anyone else. In fact, I think they’re all glad I’ve got something else to occupy me. Even though I’ve been cleared of any suspicion in Jordy’s death, I can’t shake the doubters who still aren’t sure.”

Beginning to understand, she said, “But if you solve this case, you’d look better in everyone’s eyes, right?”

“I hope so. Bree, I didn’t always get along with Jordy but...I respected him. He was a good cop and a good leader. I need this—not only because of that, but because this man is getting bolder with each bomb. He has to be stopped.”

Brianne didn’t know what to say. Good officers knew working without backup was never the best plan. Glad he’d been upfront with the chief, she said, “You shouldn’t go it alone. Have you talked to the FBI and Homeland Security any more?”

“They’ve been informed. Those in charge know Tommy and I are good at what we do. As long as I don’t interfere in their cases, I’m clear. I have to report back, of course. Besides, I’m not technically undercover. I’ve just trying to build a solid case—on my own time and in my own way.”

“This is an unusual situation,” she said. “I know a lot of detectives who are deep undercover. They give up everything to do their jobs.”

“Yes, but my job is bomb detection and...I can’t let this one go. Tommy found something at that site, and I think he recognized that man yesterday after Stella alerted. I took this on because my gut tells me this man is so close. And based on Beanpole’s vague description of him, I think that could have been him. I haven’t figured out why he’d bomb the park, but it could have been a distraction. I can’t talk to anyone much about it per Noah’s orders, but the NYPD is well aware of the situation and they’ve got people on it, too. I thought I could trust you, though, since you were there.”

“And then you got this wild idea that we could both work this case, possibly undercover as husband and wife?”

“Something like that. It’s stupid, I know. But...I need evidence, and most of the detectives I know are swamped and all in on their own cases.” He took a sip of coffee. “As you know, I rent out a room in the house in Valley Stream I inherited from my Granny Irene. My roommate’s so deep undercover, I get rent money from a PO box and I haven’t seen him since he vouched for me three months ago—right before he started this new case.”

A streak of lightning made a jagged dance over the skyscrapers and then a roar of thunder shook the sky. The flowers in the dish gardens bent in the brisk wind.

“We’d better get inside,” he said, his tone gruff now.

Brianne stood. “I want to hear more,” she said. “All of it. Then I’ll decide.”

“Forget I mentioned it.”

She slanted her eyebrow up. “Oh, no. This conversation is not over.”

The lightning flashed again. Brianne turned away from the street to give Stella a command so they could move inside.

Before she could get to the door, the rain started coming down. Gavin glanced at an approaching SUV and then back at her, his eyes filling with apprehension.

In the next instance, he jumped across the table and covered her, pushing her down, rain pouring around them.

But something else also poured out along with the rain.

Bullets.

FOUR

Gavin didn’t have time to think.

He dove over Brianne, his body covering hers as the dark SUV sped by, one tinted side-window in the back open enough to show the tip of a long-barreled revolver. With a silencer.

But even with that silencer, he could still hear the hiss of a projectile coming straight toward them.

While he held her, bullets ricocheted off bricks and iron, one hitting the umbrella where they’d just been sitting, the force ripping the sturdy canvas apart. After what seemed like a lifetime of seconds, the SUV peeled away, wet tires spinning.

For one moment, everything went silent and then everyone moved at once.

The two officers who’d gone inside just minutes earlier came rushing out, weapons drawn.

“Hey, are you guys okay?”

“Shots fired.” Gavin looked down at Brianne. He’d knocked her down so quickly, her hair had tumbled out around her face. “You hit?”

“No, no,” she said, her breath rising. “How about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“The dogs?”

Gavin checked Stella who sat loyally beside where Brianne had landed, her ears up and her eyes on alert. Tommy did the same. These two weren’t trained to attack but they wouldn’t back off either if push came to shove. “They’re good. A tough combo.”

Brianne reached out a hand and touched Stella’s furry head. “Good girl.”

He sat back and then leaped up, offering her a hand. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said, grabbing hold, her hand sending little currents of warmth straight to his heart. “My knee is still bruised and cut from falling yesterday in the park and I’ll probably have a bruise on my elbow where I hit the concrete when...when you dived over me.”

“Sorry,” he said, unable to stop staring at her. “I saw the barrel of a gun and went into action.”

“We’d better stay in action,” she said, her expression hard to read. “We should contain the scene.”

Gavin looked around, his mind refocusing. Lou came hurrying out, oblivious to the rain or any shooters, his salt-and-pepper hair standing straight up. “Get inside,” he said, worry in his tone.

One of the patrol officers nodded. “Go on. We’ve called it in. but we didn’t see the vehicle or the shooter.”

“The vehicle—a black Denali,” Gavin replied. “I didn’t get the tag numbers. I’ll see if I can remember any details when we file a report. Could have been random.”

“Right,” the younger of the two said. “Two cops sitting on a patio. An easy target.”

Lou studied the street, his expression grim. “Who knows these days? We had that shooting when Sophie Walters was targeted, but that man’s dead now. Then Eva Kendall’s nephew Mikey got taken from here, remember? Glad they found the boy safe and sound.”

He shrugged and then held his hands up in defeat. “Maybe I should just sell the place.” He turned to go back inside but whirled around. “This time might have been a warning for me. Someone really wants to buy this property, but I keep refusing to sell. Different real estate agents come by all the time, smart-mouthing.”

Gavin shot a glance to Brianne. “Lou, are you being strong-armed?”

Lou shook his head. “I have been but I handled it. Just braggish folks with business cards and big offers. You know, gentrification. As if anyone around here wants to become more refined, know what I mean? I refused all offers, of course. But today, they might have fired their first warning shot directly at me. If this keeps up, we’ll lose business and I’ll be forced to shut things down.”

“Like I said,” Gavin replied to the officers. “Random? Or maybe not.”

“We’ve got this,” the other one said. “Get inside and dry off.”

“Bree, let’s go in and talk about what happened.”

She fixed her hair, her skin and uniform soaked. “What’s to talk about? They shot at us, right? Whether they were targeting Lou or us, we’re in this. I’m not going inside.”

He nodded, worrying, calculating.

Brianne studied the porch and the street. “I don’t think this was random, Gavin. So I’d like to help process the scene.”

“We can agree on that,” he said, his tone grim. “Did you see anything?”

“No. I should have been more alert.”

“Except I had you distracted with my lamebrain plan.”

“We’re not done with that,” she reminded him.

The rain softened into a drizzle but since they were both drenched they didn’t care. “Let’s check for bullet fragments,” she said. “The rain might not let up and it’s washing away evidence.”

“I saw a black SUV, a late model Denali. I didn’t get a license plate number. But then we see those all over town all the time. Hired drivers.”

“And Lou doesn’t have video footage to the street.”

“Nope. But the transportation department does. I’ll get Danielle’s team on that.”

They walked the patio, lifting bullet fragments for balistics and taking statements. The rain ended and a hot scalding sun came out to make their wet uniforms even stickier. The patrol officers cordoned off the patio until they’d cleared the scene.

Lou brought out water and offered them coffee. “Find anything?”

“Nope,” Gavin said. “But we’ll try to figure it out.” Then he touched Lou’s beefy arm. “I’ll need to sit down with you later and hear more about the people trying to buy you out.”

Lou shrugged. “People have been trying to buy me out since I opened the diner over thirty years ago. I don’t plan on going anywhere. Not without a fight, at least.”

Gavin wondered about that. And he wondered if the people who seemed to be targeting Lou might also be after Gavin now, too. Did they know he’d been asking around? Did they assume he was snooping on Lou’s behalf?

“Can I get you anything else?” the older man asked, clearly rattled. Barbara came out and tried to tug them all inside, her face etched in worry.

They worked the scene in quiet and then went inside to interview the patrons and Lou and Barb. No one had anything new to add. Most of the diners had been cleared to leave.

“We’ve had a couple of real estate agents handing out cards and telling us how much we can get for the property,” Barb said. “We didn’t think anything of it and Lou politely told them we didn’t want to sell.”

“They weren’t polite,” Lou told them. “But you know how that goes. Firm and with greed glowing in their eyes. I threw their cards in the trash.”

He barely remembered what they looked like, so not much to go on there. “Violet was here the other day when a woman came by and handed me a card. She might be able to describe the woman better. I had people shouting for food so I hurried away.”

As if on cue, Violet showed up, pushing her way through the bystanders and the yellow police tape. Hugging her parents close, she turned to Gavin. “What happened?”

Gavin brought her up to speed. “Everyone is okay but I need to ask you some questions.”

“Sure,” she said, her dark hair caught up in a clip. “What’s up?”

“Look, no one was hurt but Lou says they’ve been approached by some pesky real estate brokers trying to get them to sell out. Lou thinks the bullets might have been a warning for you guys. Do you know anything about that?”

“I talked to a woman once,” Violet said, her voice shaky, her arm on her father’s shoulder. “She was persistent and maybe a little threatening. Do you think they’d resort to this kind of harassment? Are my parents in danger?”

Barb and Lou patted her on the arm. “Honey, we’re fine,” Lou said over and over.

Gavin needed to consider that angle, but he didn’t have the answer right now. “I think it could have been for Bree and me, but we can’t be sure.” He thanked her for the information.

Assuring her that her parents were okay, he promised to alert Violet’s fiancé, Zach—a fellow K-9 officer—just in case. “We’ll keep watch, either way.”

“Thanks,” Gavin said to Barbara after she’d handed them both a to-go box of fresh food since they hadn’t finished their breakfasts. “I’m going back to headquarters.”

“Same here,” Brianne said. “I drove but I have a clean uniform in my locker.”

“I came here first, too, and found a parking place around the corner.”

Her brow scrunched. “I’ll see you back at the station”

“Okay. Watch your back.”

Before they left to go their separate ways, she turned to Gavin. “I don’t know why I’m saying this but...I really do want to hear more about your case, Gavin.”

“I thought you were against it.”

“No, I just like to do things by the book. If you need my help, that’s fine. But...we clear it with Noah, understand? Let him know you need me on the case and explain why.”

“I don’t know—”

“You’re already on their radar. If you’ve been cleared to work on this, that’s cool. I need to get clearance, too. We can’t be too careful, considering.”

“What do you want me to do, Brianne? I took this case and then Jordy died and...I made a mess of things. I need something to focus on.”

“We do have something to focus on—finding Chief Jameson’s killer and searching for the Fourth of July bomber.”

“I want to find the Tick, too. I’ve just got a hunch that they could be one and the same. And now this. It could all be tied together, especially if they’ve decided to target Lou, too.”

“I want to find that bomber we saw in the park. I don’t like this place being shot up, and Lou could be a target now. But we continue to do it by the book or...I’ll never work with you again.”

She turned and marched off, her shoulders straight, her hair still trying to escape the messy bun she’d managed to fix.

Gavin watched her head to her SUV across the way. He checked the windows of buildings around the area. Had he made a big mistake by telling her what he’d been up to? Now he had to consider someone had just shot at this building. Who? Why?

Lou had been upfront about someone wanting to buy him out, but what if he had been pressured way more than any of them knew?

Hurrying to his vehicle, Gavin got caught up in a traffic jam caused by construction. While he sat there waiting for the workers to finish their task, Gavin thought about his grandmother, Irene. She’d died five years ago, leaving him her home and a modest savings account. His grandmother had raised him after his mother, Phyllis, had given birth out of wedlock. Phyllis, still a teenager, had run away when he’d been only a month old and hadn’t come back. Irene, who’d become a widow at an early age, had cared for him and sent him to college, all the while working as a nurse her entire life. She’d only been retired a year or so when her health turned bad.

He’d never had to prove himself to Granny Irene. She loved him with a tough love but he knew he could always count on her. His grandmother lived by faith and she’d planted that seed in his heart. He didn’t talk about his faith much, but he tried hard to live up to Irene’s strong belief system.

Checking on Tommy in the back, Gavin said, “Hey, boy. We should have walked back to work, huh?”

Tommy woofed his agreement and did a circle inside the kennel. Always ready to roll.

At least he had a solid house with a small yard for Tommy. Small but intact, the two-story wooden row house had a narrow front porch. It belonged to him, no matter how many real estate agents told him he could make a fortune flipping it and selling it.

Maybe that also had something to do with how this particular case bothered him. His grandfather had been a fairly successful businessman and had bought the house, built in the 1940s, for a modest price over fifty years ago.

After his grandfather’s death in a traffic accident, his grandmother had raised his wayward mother there. He’d never sell, even if Valley Stream was now a coveted area. But the place stayed in a continuous state of remodeling and updating. It had a nice backyard for Tommy and room enough for the both of them and his rarely-there roommate. That’s all Gavin needed.

Or so he’d thought until Brianne had come into his life. Working with her now and then over the last few weeks, helping her to train Stella and getting to know her better had only made him more aware of her. The woman had a sweet heart behind a solid wall of feminine steel.

Holding her there after the shooting this morning, he’d felt something powerful and true, the kind of emotions a man hides inside his heart. Gavin didn’t know how to deal with all the possibilities swirling inside his head. He needed to keep a professional attitude regarding Brianne Hayes.

Now he’d put her in a bad position.

He had to trust her. He needed a partner to help him crack this case. A female who could pose as his rich wife so they could attend open houses and get information on properties without looking suspicious. Brianne had the backbone and the nerves to pull off a high-risk undercover job, but he wondered now if he should put her in the line of fire.

Neither of them had been trained to do this kind of work. Noah had cautioned him against pursuing this, but Gavin wasn’t giving up just yet. If those bullets had been meant to scare him, they had not succeeded. A new determination made him want to do his job.

Fifteen minutes later, traffic started moving again and Gavin drove to headquarters, parked, then opened the back to let Tommy out of the vehicle. Together they headed for the indoor practice area like they’d done a thousand times before. As he gave Tommy some playtime, he wondered what Bree was doing. He didn’t see her or Stella in the training arena. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed.

Brianne.

She’d said she wanted to know more and that she wanted to help him. Did Brianne Hayes really care at all?

He hit Accept and waited to see, torn between needing her help and wanting to protect her.

“Gavin, meet me in the small conference room upstairs,” she said, her words breathless. “We got a call from the FBI. We might have a lead on the Fourth of July bomber.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Gavin put away his phone and forgot about his damp uniform.

He wanted to see if they’d found the man in the park.

Because he felt pretty sure the man who’d placed bombs in the East River Park could also be the same bomber who’d been setting off small explosions for the past few months. First thing, he’d report his suspicions to Noah. This case had taken another turn and since several law enforcement agencies were involved, he wanted full transparency. No mistakes.