“Good to have you back.” She slapped Lucky’s back, not nearly as hard as usual. When would folks stop treating him like an invalid?
“I would say it’s good to be back, but I wouldn’t want to lie,” he lied. Lucky barely looked up from his desk. The sooner folks stopped singling him out, the sooner he’d get back to work. He’d pissed away too much time taking things easy. Time to go kick some drug dealer ass.
With no warning, Johnson swooped in and probably made a sticky red mess on his cheek. “In case I haven’t told you before, you’re a good guy.”
He’d done one good deed and shot his reputation to hell. “Don’t you dare tell people stories about me.”
“Your secret is safe with me. Now, boss man wants you.”
What now? He closed his laptop and followed the familiar path to Walter’s door, tapped once and entered without waiting for an invite. “If this is about me coming back to work, the doctor released me.” Sort of. He needed the Bureau’s resources to track down how Bristol got a hold of carfentanil. And keep tabs on Bo? Nah.
But the tracker he’d stuck on Bo’s Durango wasn’t going to download its own data.
“Sit.”
Oh, shit. Walter in boss mode and not in the role of favorite uncle. Ready the shit to hit the fan.
“What’d I do now?”
“I wouldn’t even hazard a guess. You’re quite creative.” All said without cracking a smile. Walter emitted a sigh. “I have to ask you something. Feel free to say no.” He sighed again. “Our mutual friends with the limitless budget have gotten involved in your case, as it has multi-country implications.”
“And?” Lucky’s heart sped. Nestor, he could handle, but the possibility of meeting Victor again fried his nerves. Sure, they’d been lovers once, and Victor went out of his way to look out for Lucky from the sidelines, but Lucky’s new life had no room for exes. Nothing good could come of him revisiting his past.
“We’ve kept your brother’s death quiet for the time being. And spoke with a girlfriend. She claims he kept the basement door locked and never allowed her to enter.”
Whoever she was, she’d never stand toe to toe with the Lucklighters if she let a little thing like a door lock stop her. “So, what do you want from me?” Please let it not be coming face to face with this woman. Lucky didn’t know her, but more than likely she’d been poisoned to the Lucklighter black sheep, and might even blame Lucky for Bristol’s death—if she wasn’t involved in his little drug operation.
“She’s told us all she knows, and has been most forthcoming with his e-mails and cell phone.” Walter waved at a pile of papers. When would he stop killing the rainforest and get his reports online instead of paper form?
Strange how cooperative people got when trying to avoid being implicated. And Lucky didn’t rule anyone out until they’d proven their innocence. “What have you found?”
“Your brother regularly met someone at the Greensboro Airport, which Jimmy confirmed from his own surveillance. The girlfriend mentioned he made the trip every few months. He’d go to the airport, pick someone up and take them to an undisclosed location.” Walter tapped an ink pen against his desk blotter. “Agents from the Virginia office followed him on three separate occasions.”
“How did he explain that away?” Bristol had never been a good liar. And as long as he kept bringing in the big bucks and giving her new cars to drive, likely the woman never questioned.
“He said his meetings were job related for the bank where he worked. His employer is unaware of any such arrangements.”
Mystery woman must own one hell of a set of blinders. “What’s the plan? You got someone watching the airport?”
“Yes. But we also need to make contact. From what we’ve gathered and observed for ourselves, you and your brothers look remarkably alike.”
“Except for Dov… Dallas.” No need to be childish around the boss. “He took after Mom’s side of the family.”
“All the same, your help is needed to play the role of your brother and keep the next meeting.” He pinned Lucky in place with a tremor-inducing gaze hot enough to cut through steel. “You do realize I wouldn’t have asked this of you without directions from higher up. It’s too soon, and they shouldn’t even suggest such a thing to an agent. Feel free to say no.”
Too soon. A million years from now would still be too soon to step into Bristol’s shoes. Lucky barely bit off “Oh hell no!” Work. This was work. His job. He’d gone undercover too many times to count. Just another assignment—that might bring him closer to Bo, and the answers he needed about Bristol. “When?”
“Thursday, but only if you feel able and are willing.” Walter’s searching gaze bore into Lucky’s. “I’ll not risk you.”
Fuck. “Who’s going to be with me?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll have adequate backup from the Richmond office. I won’t expose you to any more danger than I have to.”
Sometimes the world went to hell anyway.
***
Was it safe to touch anything? Marble, marble everywhere. Marble countertops, marble dresser tops, real wood floors gleaming in the sun’s last rays.
