Until Now (Plan B Book 1) Page 11

  While Cruz ordered lunch, Shanice closed her eyes and began her recitation. There were twenty-two names in all. She also gave Raheem the dollar amounts listed next to each one. By the time she finished, Cruz was back in position behind Raheem.

  Raheem hit Submit and the computer started the analysis. “This software will figure out the common denominator between all the names. Then it’s going to spit out the information in a summary report to us, and we’ll better understand who these people are."

  The wait didn’t take long at all. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes when a series of beeps alerted them of the results.

  Raheem stared at the report and whistled.

  “What?” Shanice leaned toward him.

  “This wasn’t what I expected. I thought this was some government stuff, and I guess in a way it is, but every single one of these names belongs to a police officer.”

  “A police officer?” Completely confused, Shanice glanced at Cruz, who wore a frown on his face.

  “We’re not finished. There’s more.” Raheem scrolled down the screen, his eyeballs swinging left to right as he digested the information. “Six of these guys have died or gone missing in the past two months. Officer Kenton and Officer Reyes never returned from a fishing trip they took. Sergeant Kelly drowned in his swimming pool. Officer Dexter and Officer Prince both had severe nut allergies and died of anaphylactic shock from accidentally eating nut-laced food. The last one, Sergeant Bing, died from carbon monoxide poisoning. There was an undetected leak in her furnace.”

  Not one of them said a word for at least a full minute.

  “Were there any dates on the list Dennis gave you?” Cruz asked Shanice.

  She shook her head. “I gave Raheem everything I know. That’s all the information that I received from Dennis in the notebook.”

  Placing his hands on the armrests, Raheem leaned back in the chair. “This guy, Logan, probably? He buys cops. We don’t know why he buys them, but he does. That has to be what the money means, right? But whenever he’s done, he just kills them?”

  “Wouldn’t someone notice a bunch of cops suspiciously dying over such a short period?” Shanice asked.

  “If they were in the same precinct, maybe. But all of these officers are spread out across five states. Only two of them were in the same precinct, and that was Officer Kenton and Officer Reyes.”

  “More than ever, we need to get inside that storage unit,” Cruz said. “That’s where the answers lie.”

  “What the hell had Dennis uncovered?” Shanice had said the words quietly to herself, but Cruz heard.

  “Whatever it is, it was worth killing for,” he said.

  Shanice woke up in time to see Cruz stepping out of the bathroom. He was dressed in all black—clothes he’d picked up over an hour ago when he left the room to get snacks and new clothes for both of them to wear. She’d decided to take a nap, which had lasted much longer than she’d expected. Outside was dark, and Cruz had turned on a lamp with a low wattage bulb that barely illuminated the room. Soon he and Raheem would be leaving to go to the storage facility.

  Cruz had made the decision to leave her there while they were gone because he thought it was safer. She thought she would be safer, too, but was still a nervous ball of energy as she watched him get ready to leave.

  She sat up in the bed and ran her fingers through her hair.

  “No one knows you’re here, but…” He showed her a small handgun in the palm of his hand. “Have you ever used one of these?”

  “A long time ago, my father took me to the firing range. But I don’t like guns.”

  “You don’t have to like it, but it could save your life. I’m going to give you a quick refresher.”

  She scooted to the edge of the bed, and he spent the next few minutes showing her how to disengage the safety when she was ready to pull the trigger. He gave her advice on how to shoot, reminding her to fire at center mass.

  “Got it?” he asked.

  “Got it.”

  “If for some reason Raheem and I don’t come back—”

  “Don’t say that!” Panic filled her.

  His features softened. “Remember, I always expect the best but plan for the worst. If for some reason we don’t come back, call this number.” He handed her a piece of paper torn from the pad on the desk. He’d written a name and number with a DC area code below it.

  Miles.

  “He’ll know what to do. He’ll be able to help you. You already know how to stay off the grid. All you have to do is be careful. Be paranoid. Use your fear and let that guide your actions.”

  She nodded. “A healthy dose of fear is a good thing.”

  “That’s right. Anyone come through that door, blow a hole in his chest.”

  He made it sound so easy, but shooting someone wasn’t that simple. Even in situations of extreme fear, people sometimes couldn’t pull the trigger. Cruz clearly didn’t suffer from such hesitations.

  “Got it.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “That’s Raheem. Time to go. I’ll see you later.” He headed to the door.

  “Wait!”

  She rushed over. Impulsively, she stood on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss. Their lips seared together, and for a brief moment, warmth filled her belly, chasing away the ball of anxiety lodged in her chest.

  “Please be careful,” she whispered, gazing into his eyes.

  “Always.”

  He cradled the back of her head with one hand and kissed her warmly and thoroughly. Tightening her fingers on his broad shoulders, she pressed into him and reveled in the pressure of his mouth against hers.

  The kiss stoked the flames of her hunger for him. She wanted him, needed him so badly, and wished she were bold enough to articulate that need.

  When he released her lips, his dark eyes were darker. Her heart thundered in her chest and the area at the apex of her thighs dampened with raw need. She’d never experienced such a vortex of emotion for any man.

  Cruz locked eyes with her, that inscrutable expression he liked to wear firmly planted on his face. For a split second she thought he was about to say something, but his lips firmed.

  And then he was gone.

  18

  Cruz and Raheem watched the storage facility from an empty lot across the street. They’d been there over an hour, observing the activity in and out of the fenced property.

  The businesses on either side were already closed this time of night, and at the back of the facility there were warehouses—also closed with no visible activity within.

  They had two minor problems to circumvent. To get onto the property, customers had to pull up to the gate and punch in a code to make the gate slide open. The other issue was the camera over the front door, which led into the office they needed to break into.

  A white SUV pulled out of the lot and drove away. Based on what they’d seen before, there wouldn’t be another vehicle for at least ten minutes.

  “You ready?” Cruz asked.

  “Born ready,” Raheem answered. He pulled a skullcap low on his head and picked up a brown bag made of worn, cracked leather from the floor.

  Both dressed in black, they exited the vehicle and waited on the sidewalk until a car passed before they ran across the street and jogged along the chain-link fence that enclosed the lot. Once they were in a dark area with limited visibility from the street, Cruz pulled himself up the fence while Raheem kept an eye out. Cruz landed lightly on the other side, and then Raheem climbed over while he stood watch. They took off for the front, staying in the shadows and hugging the long building which held multiple units.

  At the end, Cruz peered around the corner, and headlights swept the front as a yellow car turned toward the gate. He pulled back out of sight, pressing flush against the brick. They’d wanted to be inside the office before the next car arrived. They listened to the gate scrape open on rusty wheels, and then the vehicle drove in. As luck would have it, the driver went down
another row.

  “We don’t know how long they’ll be here. I say we go in,” Cruz whispered. He would have preferred that there be no one in the yard, but that renter could be back there for a long time. Better to take their chances to get the information they needed.

  With a curt nod, Raheem confirmed that he agreed.

  Cruz peered around the corner again to make sure they didn’t have more visitors. The street out front was empty. He pulled a miniature can of black spray paint from the front pocket of his jeans. The container was small, only about three inches long with the circumference of a tube of lipstick. It was used as touch-up paint but would serve another purpose tonight.

  The camera was angled toward the front door, which meant he was in its blind spot coming from the opposite direction. He stood out of sight underneath and, careful to keep his hand out of view, sprayed the paint upward over the lens, blacking out its line of sight.

  Dropping to his haunches, he pulled two simple tools from the lock pick set in his back pocket and opened the door. He’d already jammed the frequency for the alarm system while they were across the street, so now they had no additional barriers to entry.

  With a low whistle, he signaled to Raheem that the door was open, and they both slipped inside. The office was small and dark, but light came in through the window from a light post on the street. Staying in the shadows against the wall, Cruz kept an eye on the outdoors. They didn’t anticipate anyone from the company showing up because no one watched the camera’s live feed. A small outfit like this would rely on recording the security footage. They likely wouldn’t notice anything was wrong with the camera outside unless they paid close attention to it or someone had a reason to review the recorded footage.

  Raheem went behind the counter and connected an electronic box to the computer. A red light came on. Cruz had no idea what that device was called, but what he did know was that it would help Raheem hack into the system.

  “What’s the deal with Shanice?” his friend asked.

  “What do you mean?” Cruz kept his eyes focused on the street outside.

  “She’s a looker. I’m wondering if she’s single.”

  That drew his attention. It was no secret how much Raheem enjoyed women. He was a veritable ladies’ man. “Why?”

  His friend glanced up at him. “Thinking about taking a chance on her since you don’t seem to want to mix business with pleasure this time. I don’t put those kinds of limitations on myself.”

  That much was true. Raheem had left a string of broken hearts around the world.

  “You’re a regular Romeo,” Cruz said dryly.

  He’d had a hard time walking away from Shanice tonight and wasn’t used to the type of conversation they’d had before he left the motel. He and the men and women he sometimes worked with cared about each other, but only as it related to the completion of a mission. They had to work together and cover each other’s back.

  What she had expressed back there was…different. Genuine concern that had little to do with his ability to help her fully understand what happened to Dennis and why. She had been concerned about Cruz—as a person—and that was a different sentiment altogether. His chest tightened as he reflected on her words. Please be careful.

  “Do you mind if I make a move on her?” Raheem asked.

  “Yes, I do.” Cruz returned his attention to outside the window.

  “Why would you mind?”

  Irritation billowed up inside him. “Mind your fucking business and finish the job,” Cruz snapped.

  Raheem laughed softly. He’d recognized Cruz’s feelings for Shanice and baited him, and Cruz had fallen for the bait.

  “We’re in.”

  The red light had turned green and Raheem disconnected the machine from the computer. “Dennis Ray,’ he mumbled to himself as he typed.

  At the sound of a car’s engine, Cruz returned his attention to the window. He eased out of the line of sight and watched the yellow car leave. Without having to be told, Raheem had ducked behind the counter.

  When the gate was closed, Cruz said, “They’re gone.”

  Raheem stood and quickly tapped his fingers across the keyboard. “Got it. Unit 1120. That all we need?”

  “That’s it.”

  Raheem logged off the computer and they left, locking the door on the way out. They went down a far row until they came to 1120. Cruz picked the lock and yanked the rolling door upward.

  They slipped in and rolled the door back down.

  Raheem turned on his flashlight, and they stared at the only item in the tiny unit—a cardboard bankers box.

  “This is it?” Raheem asked.

  Cruz walked across the dusty cement floor to the box and crouched down. “He wasn’t storing any personal belongings here, which means he’d gotten this facility for the sole purpose of hiding his research.” He removed the lid.

  Shining the light inside, they picked out notebooks and files stuffed full of papers and photos.

  They took their time combing through them. The first two folders didn’t have anything to do with Logan Investors, but when Raheem turned several pages of the third folder, he said with a burst of excitement in his voice, “Check this out.”

  Cruz set aside the documents he’d been perusing and took a look. He couldn’t believe what he saw. There was lots of information showing Dennis’s research on Logan Investors, including a background on the company, a list of their holdings across the country, and pages and pages of notes.

  Not only that, there were photos, which looked like they had been taken from a distance. One man showed up in several of the photos and looked so much like Randall, Cruz had to assume that he was his son. But the most interesting photo was near the back of the stack. That contained a shot of Randall and Senator Sandoval holding rifles, as if they were on a hunting trip. There was a cluster of trees and a cabin in the back. Both men had their arms around each other and were grinning widely into the camera’s lens. They looked younger and more vibrant than their current age of men in their sixties. He guessed them to be in their late thirties or early forties in the shot.

  “Wait a minute, does this mean what I think it means? Is the senator involved with Logan Investors?” Raheem said.

  Cruz rubbed his jaw. “Maybe, but my question is, if he is—what exactly are they involved in? And did his niece know?”

  “She probably didn’t know about the information her husband had collected on Logan.”

  “Which means she wouldn’t know her uncle was implicated.” Cruz shook his head. “Their friendship obviously goes back a couple of decades.”

  “One or both of them had a team go after Shanice. If you hadn’t been nearby…”

  Cruz’s chest burned when he considered what those men would have done to her to get the information. If she didn’t talk, they would have tortured her the same way they did Dennis.

  “We’re taking the whole box and sorting through the contents tonight.” Cruz replaced the lid.

  “Think about the scandal if this gets out. Logan Investors is bribing and killing cops, and that’s only part of this puzzle. They’re covering something up. Why are they bribing them? If the senator is involved in this…” Raheem looked at Cruz.

  Cruz finished the sentence. “He’ll do anything to keep it quiet.”

  19

  The box Raheem and Cruz had taken from the storage facility sat on the floor, but the contents were spread out on the desk like dinner plates.

  They had removed everything related to Logan Investors and the investigation Dennis had launched against the company. All three of them scoured the files for details. Raheem sat at the desk, Shanice on the bed, and Cruz on the sofa, his long legs propped on the mattress beside her, feet crossed at the ankles.

  “I’m more convinced than ever that Dennis didn’t kill himself,” Shanice said.

  Cruz was convinced, too. He shifted through the sheets, studying all the clues her friend had left behind. The name Precise, LLC w
as circled on a piece of paper, and the rest of Dennis’s handwritten notes conveyed an alarming pattern. Whenever Logan couldn’t get control of a property in an up-and-coming neighborhood, he “worked” with the local police department, which increased police presence in the neighborhoods by ticketing and towing cars, arresting people for jaywalking, and conducting raids on the tenants—many of whom were on government assistance—after getting anonymous “tips.”

  Raheem shook his head. “During those raids, they always found drugs, which is a violation of the lease agreements and gets the tenants kicked off government assistance.”

  “Mass evictions, and then within months Logan buys the cash-strapped property and moves forward,” Shanice finished.

  “Forced gentrification by cop,” Raheem said bitterly.

  “Most of these tenants were older, disabled, or single moms,” Shanice said, her voice filled with horror as she reviewed the papers in her hands.

  Anger burned through Cruz as he thought about what those people went through. “Not only did Dennis find a pattern connecting the raids to Logan’s properties, but there’s clearly some kind of relationship—or at least he suspected there was a relationship—between Logan and Senator Sandoval.”

  “Just because Logan knew the senator doesn’t mean that he was involved,” Shanice countered.

  Cruz closed the folder he was reviewing and set it on the cushion beside him. “The fact that Dennis had a photo of the two of them makes me think that’s what he suspected. And frankly, it’s very uncommon for there to be such a huge coincidence.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he let everything he knew turn around in his head.

  “Do you think Karen Sandoval is involved?” Raheem asked.

  “I believe she told the truth as she knew it. I don’t think she knew about her uncle, and if Dennis was smart, he didn’t mention what he found out to her. He knew he’d have to get proof. Without that, he’d jeopardize a reconciliation with his wife for no reason.”