Red Shoes and A Diary. Mia Zachary
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You’re not taking us off it. Not when we’re so close—”
“You’d better play this one by the book, Alex. Do you hear me? Any action you take will be called into question until Internal Affairs clears you on the shooting.”
He scowled. Like he needed the reminder. Both he and Emelio had been on admin probation until this latest break in the case. “IAD can kiss my ass. I did what I had to to get the job done.”
“You know, you’ve got a real attitude problem lately.”
“Yeah, well, you can tell me all about it when you quit riding a desk. I haven’t lost my edge,” he said it as much to convince himself as his boss.
“Hell, if anything, your edges are too jagged,” Brent muttered. “Bring me up to speed.”
“‘Nick Alexander’ is definitely going to be brought into play. Since Manny Ortega got busted, Ramos needs another underground banker for the Miami operation. I’ll use Braga to get to him and get the info we need.”
“The Attorney General is demanding enough evidence to present to a federal grand jury. She wants it yesterday. Don’t screw up on this one.”
The line went dead before Alex could say another word. He hung up the phone, then looked around for his cigarettes. He felt the past stalking him like a dark shadow. Maybe he had lost his edge, those sharp instincts that too often meant the difference between making or breaking a case. Overtown had been a major screw-up. His.
He should have seen it coming. Somehow, he should have seen it. Emelio got too close to their informant but Alex backed him up in front of the brass, despite his misgivings. As a result, two people died and the bad guys got in the wind.
The underlying guilt made him think about Greg. Not long after he joined the DEA, his younger brother overdosed. All Greg’s life, Alex did his best to protect him. It was a hard truth to face that his best hadn’t been good enough.
Had it ever been enough? How long was it since he felt like he made any kind of difference? For eight years, he’d waded through the cesspool of the drug underworld. He’d kept friends and family at a distance in order to immerse himself in The Life. And still his sacrifices came down to bureaucratic bullshit and overturned convictions.
He was really starting to hate this damned job.
Wandering over to the French doors, he stepped out onto the balcony. He tapped the cigarette pack until one slid out, then pinched off the end. The stress he’d been under lately made it hard to quit. Smoking half a cigarette didn’t seem as bad.
He felt as if he was moving through life instead of living it. There was an emptiness inside him and he wasn’t sure who the hell he was anymore. Two months ago he was Andy Ruiz. Today he was Nick Alexander. And next week? Next month?
Emelio came out to stand beside him, resting his elbows on the railing. “I take it the brass is stepping up the pressure?”
He sucked in nicotine and stared into the distance. “I learned something when I was under deep cover in the Southwest a few years back, hombre.”
Emelio turned his head to look at him.
“I roughed up informants, watched criminals kill each other without losing any sleep. I even went so far as sampling the product to secure my identity. If you can name it, I probably did it.”
“I know, man. Your rep preceded you. What’s your point?”
“Supervisors usually look the other way when you cross the line, just as long as you get results and make them look good. Not this time. This time it’s all on the line.”
“Closing the Ramos case will go a long way to restoring our badges.” Emelio gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “But maybe we should look into that investigation firm we’ve talked about.”
Alex shook his head and blew a stream of smoke into the night air. “We’ve got a mission and nothing’s going to keep me from seeing it through. This job means everything to me, Em. It’s all I’ve got.”
5
The night is dark and restless and so am I as I wait for my green-eyed lover—
No. Start again.
Moonlight glitters on his dark hair as I stand naked before him, eager for the dangerous pleasure of his touch—
MEGHAN CLOSED HER DIARY and set it beside her on the sofa. She’d been trying to create a new entry, but couldn’t seem to concentrate. An odd sense of loss settled heavily in her chest as she stared out at the darkness.
Her resolve had been badly shaken by Nick’s sudden exit. It was as if her fantasy man—and her confidence—had walked out with him. Feeling totally rejected, she planned to stay here in her suite and sulk. Maybe order something chocolate from room service.
She’d felt something for Nick, a kind of tenuous emotional connection, as well as the physical attraction. The electric spark of awareness whenever they touched was her main reason for choosing him. Was she wrong in thinking he felt it, too?
Probably. Heaven knew she’d been wrong before. Frowning, she stood up and went to open the window. The lights around the Cascade Pool caught her attention. She’d forgotten about the party Julie invited her to.
Okay. No more sulking. She wasn’t going to follow the same old path, just because it was safe and familiar. She was going to find a vacation lover and have some fun before going back to school. Grabbing her card key, she headed for the door.
“Welcome to the Singles Mingle,” read the banner that hung over the walkway leading to the pool. A cool breeze ruffled her hair while she hesitated on the edge of the stone patio. Taking a deep breath, she tried to ignore her anxiety. She could do this. She’d found one great guy. She could find another.
Still she hesitated. People wandered among intimate groups or danced on the white sand. Everyone was trying, desperately in her opinion, to impress everyone else. Just then one rowdy bunch of men called out, “Hey, Julie’s sister, over here!”
The enthusiastic greeting sent her straight toward the bar. She needed a little more courage before she went on the manhunt. One of the bartenders grinned as she elbowed her way onto a padded stool. His name tag read “Alfonso.”
He raised his voice so she could hear him above the Salsa music. “Hi, Julie’s sister.”
She smiled and leaned forward against the bar. “Not you, too. Call me Meghan.”
“How about something cold, Meghan? We Jamaicans know what to do with fresh fruit and lotsa ice.”
“Thank you.” She twisted sideways on the stool and scanned the crowd. Maybe Nick would show up. Maybe he’d finish with his client early and come find her.
Julie suddenly appeared at her shoulder. “Hi, Megs! I didn’t think you were going to come. Where’s your pirate?”
“Feeding his parrot, I guess.” She dropped her gaze and frowned, drumming her fingertips on the top of the bar.
“It didn’t work out with him, huh? Well, in that case, why are you sitting here instead of circulating? You’re not going to find Mr. Fabulous this way.”
“Take a breath, Jules. I’ll go mingle as soon as Alfonso finishes making my drink.”
Her sister looked startled by the glass of multicolored slush he placed in front of her. “You made her a Miami Vice?”
Alfonso shrugged and gave her a grin. “You told me to push tonight’s drink special.”
Meghan eyed the glass suspiciously. She didn’t drink as a rule, but she needed to relax. Cautiously, she took a sip and wrinkled her nose. Rum, with strawberry and piña colada. She wasn’t sure about the blue stuff floating on top and decided not to ask.
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