Page 54 of Peril in Piney Woods

Since they weren’t worried about anyone overhearing them, her quiet tone had him coming to fuller attention. “Me too,” he confessed.

She said nothing for a few seconds, then, “You go first.”

Frustration thumped him. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have just let her go on. There was no taking it back now. He drew in a big breath. Just say it. “I think you underestimate how many friends you have in Piney Woods. We’ll band together and help you if you’ll only let us.”

She laughed softly. Sighed. The laugh part worried him.

“I’m going to tell you everything,” she said. “I think it will help you see how what you’re suggesting won’t work.”

When he would have argued, she added, “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, and I do know that I have many friends in Piney Woods. I am very grateful for all of you.”

“Then let us help you.” The sound of her voice in the darkness had his body reacting. Come on, Griff, get your head in the right place.

“First,” she said as she tossed the towel and stretched out on her side to face him, “let me tell you what I’m up against.”

He opted not to correct her, but it was what they were up against. He lay down on the rug facing her, a safe distance between them. No pushing, he reminded himself.

“I joined the LAPD right out of USC—the University of Southern California. I went to the academy and rose to detective in record time. Then four years ago, I was approached by a man who was putting together a special team of operatives composed of police detectives, DEA and FBI agents. It was to be the first of its kind. He selected members of law enforcement who had excelled in their fields. He vetted hundreds of people. When he selected his group, the team’s first mission was to go after the biggest drug lord on the West Coast, Salvadori Lorenzo.”

“I don’t know the name.” Griff hated admitting this, but it was true. No point pretending. If she wanted to tell him the story, he wanted the whole story. He needed it.

“I’m not surprised. He isn’t exactly a household name. The average Californian thinks he’s just another billionaire who lives in Beverly Hills and donates to all the right causes and parties. But people in the higher echelons of law enforcement on the West Coast know who he is. He is the primary connection in this country to one of Mexico’s most notorious drug cartels. When he says jump, even the top member of that cartel asks how high on the way up. He is untouchable.”

“Your job was to infiltrate his business,” he surmised. Griff knew it. She wasn’t a killer. She was a cop. An undercover cop. A smile tugged at his mouth, and he wanted to reach over and hug her hard.

“Not in the beginning. I had other operations. It wasn’t until things went sour with the operative we had inside Lorenzo’s clique.”

“Let me guess,” Griff offered, “the man whose voice you heard in the woods back there.”

“The one and only. Kase Ridley.”

“This drew you into Lorenzo’s world.” Griff got it now.

“It did. My boss, Arthur Wisting, set up my profile, Angela Hamilton, assassin for hire. My first step toward breaking into his tight little group was going after one of his men who’d stepped over a certain line. Lorenzo was so impressed by my courage that he hired me on the spot. It all went down exactly as Wisting had hoped.”

She really was fearless. Damn. “You actually went after one of his men?”

“I did. It was do or die. I tap-danced my way into his good graces, and he became quite fond of me during the months that followed.”

Griff wanted to ask if she’d had to kill anyone to prove herself, but he wanted her to keep talking, and that question might just shut this moment down.

“Things were rocking along exactly as planned until Ridley got himself into a no-win situation, and I was ordered to extract him.”

He waited for her to go on, the urge to reach out and give her arm a squeeze of reassurance nearly overwhelming, but again, he didn’t want to stop the momentum.

“During the attempted extraction, Lorenzo’s one and only son was killed. He believes I killed him.”

Damn. “How old was this son?” He felt confident they weren’t talking about a child.

“Twenty-nine-year-old piece of garbage who got off on watching people die. Do I feel guilty that he’s dead?” She laughed. “No way. The world is a better place without him.”

“Wait,” Griff said, replaying what she’d said, “Lorenzo believes you killed his son. Did you?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s dead and Lorenzo wants me dead.”

Griff had a feeling there was more to it. “The Ridley guy just let you take the fall either way.”

“He was in deeper. It was better that I took the fall. Except then he disappeared, was presumed dead—until now.”

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