Page 6 of Deadly Threat
Yes. Gotcha. “I have a BA in criminal justice, but I’ve decided to go for a degree in behavioral science.”
Eyes averted, she nodded, closed her laptop, then stowed it and the colorful sticky notes into her bag. “Student services can suggest somebody.” Without warning, she stood and gathered the books.
“Are you leaving?” He rose, too. “I apologized about the table. I’ll go, you don’t have to.”
“It’s not that,” she said, going around him, the dog on her heels. “Good luck with your assignment.”
Just like that, she was gone. Ladybug glanced back at him, scorn in her dark eyes, suggesting he’d messed up.
He almost followed them, apologized again, but kicked the table leg instead.Definite screw loose.
The two disappeared and he slumped into the hard chair. Forget getting her help. Looked like he was back to recruiting Thomas Mann.
The restof his day went about as well. Joe was out sick, Caleb was blowing a gasket about a skip trace he’d been tracking for months who had eluded him yet again and Cooper Harris was waiting for Malachi in his office when he arrived at Bondsman Brothers.
The leader of the SCVC Taskforce, known as the Beast, was drinking coffee and texting, his dark hair still wet from a shower. Or possibly a swim. He looked fit, always running and surfing. He’d be a good training partner, if Malachi was one for such a thing. “Sleeping in this morning?” he goaded.
“Don’t be throwing shade, man.” He bumped fists with him and pulled out his chair, the wheels squeaking. “What’s up?”
The big man pocketed his phone, looking uncomfortable in the too-small chair. Malachi liked that piece of furniture. Most people found it hard as a rock and the dimensions were wrong for the average person’s derriere. Made them leave quickly. “I come asking for a favor. It involves an assignment you worked last year.”
Malachi took his seat, wishing he’d snagged another energy drink on the way in. He could tell he was low on electrolytes. He’d have to ask Josie to run to the corner convenience mart and find some sustenance for him on her lunch hour. It would cost him, but he didn’t have time to leave again. As executive officer of BB, he had a shit ton of work to do. “Go on.”
Harris tucked away his cell and leaned back. “We believe Newt Marcher is returning to the States to resurrect the Quattro Gang. His father’s lieutenants are making a run against him.”
Fuckers. Jamarion King and Leandro Lopez had done Damon Marcher’s bidding and kidnapped the mayor’s sister over a year ago. Lopez had been the single fugitive Malachi had searched for and never captured. If he had… “You guys nailed King, along with Damon. Sure wish you’d gotten Lopez, too.”
“And now Damon’s dead, but Newt is still out there, along with Lopez. We hope to nab both, using King.”
A flash of memory tugged at Mal’s brain, then vanished. “But King’s in prison.”
“He cut a deal with the Bureau to give us Newt. This is all hush-hush, mind you. The FBI doesn’t want the public to know he’s out on the streets, but he’s the bait they need to capture Newt. Newt is the big fish they want, and if they nab him, there’s far less chance for the QC to be resurrected. Meanwhile, word is King has already recruited Leandro Lopez to join him.”
“The gang’s all here.” Malachi slammed a fist on his desk. Lopez had earned a place in hell, if Mal had any say in it. Maybe, just maybe, if he’d captured the guy, Lopez wouldn’t have served up Mia Livingston to Marcher. “If Lopez is back, Iwillcatch him.”
“That’s why I’m here. Dupé prefers that you not.”
“Fuck that.”
Harris crossed an ankle over his knee. “I know how you feel. My boss would be here himself asking for your cooperation, but I volunteered to speak with you because of our relationship. We’re keeping this knowledge on the down low for the next forty-eight hours. That’s all we need. Hopefully,” he added. “Dupé and the Justice Department have given King that much time to draw Newt out and give them evidence to get the bastard life in prison. It’s not much time, and a lot is riding on this. If we get Newt, you’ll get Lopez.”
Malachi drummed his fingers on the desktop. The West Coast Director of the FBIshouldbe here, not Harris, with this Godzilla of a request. “Does the mayor know about this sting operation?”
Harris nodded. “She wants all of those responsible for her sister’s ordeal brought to justice, and now that Damon is out of the picture, this is her opportunity to make sure King and Lopez pay for their crimes, too. Bonus, we stop Newt from resurrecting the QG.”
“How much of King’s sentence did the Feds take off?”
“Nothing, unless he brings us Newt and the proof we need to put him away. If he does that, and they can charge the kid as an accessory for Mia, he gets his sentence reduced from life to thirty years.”
“Thirty?” Malachi rocked back and ran a hand through his hair. “He deserves the chair.”
“You and I will be old men by the time he’s out, if he even makes it that long.”
Perspective. He was usually the one preaching it to his siblings. “Speak for yourself on the old man thing.”
“You’re looking pretty lean. You running again?”
Harris himself was a runner and loved to surf as well. Malachi tapped a paper calendar on the wall behind him. It was from the local shelter and had a different dog or cat each month. “I’m doing the marathon in January.”
