Untraceable

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been doing most ops on my own for the past year now.”

Neither of them mentioned why. Neither had to.

“Where are you meeting Cady tomorrow?” Sawyer asked after a moment’s pause that held a novel’s worth of unsaid words.

“Undetermined as of yet. I’m going to try to get him somewhere neutral. We’ll see how it plays out.”

“All right.” Sawyer got up and put his arm back into the sling. “Keep us all posted.”

“Yeah, it will be good to have Juliet as team leader on this one. She sees things nobody else does, sometimes.”

Her brother nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, maybe. I hope so.”

“She’ll be fine, Sawyer. Safe here at Omega, as always.”

Sawyer looked as if he might say something else, but didn’t. He just nodded again, then began walking down the hall. “Hey, family barbecue next weekend. My mom says you better be there for this one or she’s coming after you personally,” he called over his shoulder.

“Yeah, okay, tell her I’ll be there unless this case dictates otherwise.” And the case would dictate otherwise; Evan would make sure of that. He loved the Branson family and their get-togethers. But until things were more comfortable between him and Juliet, he wouldn’t be going. Juliet needed to know that her family was hers. Evan would never want to take that from her.

Evan read through the files one more time, familiarizing himself with every part of Vince Cady’s operation. He would never let the drug lord know he had this sort of knowledge, of course. To Cady, Bob Sinclair would be a midlevel criminal: smart, but not too clever; industrious, but still a little lazy. Someone useful and nonthreatening.

Evan could admit it was easier when he’d had Juliet playing his wife. He’d just pretended to be in awe of her and head over heels in love. Nobody had ever had any difficulty buying that cover. Bob and Lisa Sinclair had made a good team. Everybody had accepted that Lisa was the brains of the couple and Bob was willing to do anything she asked. It made them seem appealing and adept, but not threatening.

Not threatening except to Robert Avilo, another midlevel criminal who didn’t like how successful the Sinclairs had become in black-market buying and selling on what he considered to be his turf. In an attempt to get rid of the competition, to scare off the Sinclairs, Avilo had attacked Juliet.

Such a pity Avilo had died a few days after the attack while resisting arrest. An arrest made based on an “anonymous” tip. Evan wished he could’ve killed the bastard himself. But he still took a little comfort knowing the man was dead and that Juliet would never have to see his face again.

And though she never broke cover even when raped by Avilo, Evan and Juliet had completely pulled out of the case after the attack. Juliet had been in the hospital and Evan had refused to leave her side. He had no idea what the word was on the street about why the Sinclairs hadn’t been around for the past year and a half. Their disappearance had been pretty abrupt. But Evan took comfort in knowing that rumors floating about the Sinclairs would not be whispers that they were law enforcement.

Juliet, in her bravery and her silence, had seen to that.

But DS-13, the crime syndicate group, hadn’t had any problems with Bob Sinclair’s sudden reappearance when they’d contacted him last month. Neither had Vince Cady. Evan just hoped it stayed that way tomorrow, but knew he’d have to be ready for some questions.

He dumped onto his desk the contents of a large envelope he’d gotten from his filing cabinet earlier today. It contained items that had belonged to Bob Sinclair, and would help reestablish Evan’s cover. A driver’s license, of course. It had to be a real one that linked back to Bob Sinclair. There were too many online sites that, for a reasonable fee, could let Cady know if an ID was fake. So Bob Sinclair’s license was real, complete with links to several unpaid parking tickets, and even arrests, when Bob had been younger. If a local cop ran his license or social security number—and it wasn’t unreasonable to think that someone of Vince Cady’s criminal caliber would have at least one police officer on his payroll—it would look real.

So would the credit cards in Sinclair’s name, another way a cover could be easily blown if an operative wasn’t careful. In today’s technologically savvy world, credit cards that had never been used, or a social security number that could be traced back only a couple of years, were easily found and red-flagged. Bob Sinclair’s credit cards had purchases and statements dating back ten years. It was some analyst’s job at Omega to make sure all these electronically trackable items looked as real as possible. Whoever that person was did a damn good job.

The other items from the envelope included business cards for exporting companies and banks around the Baltimore and DC area. Even Sinclair’s library card, randomly placed in his wallet. Plus two photographs. The first was of Bob and Lisa’s wedding day. Evan and Juliet had posed outside a church, in wedding garb, hand in hand and smiling. Rice showered them in the picture, the perfect way to make it look as if a large crowd of people surrounded them. In actuality it had just been a few other agents, who had enjoyed pelting them with rice from every angle.

Evan picked up the other picture and studied it longer. He remembered that day from two years ago with crystal clarity. The photo had been taken in front of the Cape Henry Lighthouse on Chesapeake Bay in Virginia, during the winter. He and Juliet had driven there for the express purpose of getting this memento from the Sinclairs’ secluded “honeymoon” so they could both have a copy in their wallet. A couple who posed as being in love with each other as much as Bob and Lisa did would definitely have pictures of each other with them at all times. Plus, it gave them added history, a more firm timeline.

Details like that could be the difference between life and death in an undercover operation.

For the photo, Evan had scooped Juliet up and cradled her in his arms. They’d asked a stranger to take their picture with their little disposable camera, explaining they were on their honeymoon. The stranger had gladly obliged, but had insisted Evan and Juliet seal the moment with a kiss.

The kiss had started out brief, just a staged moment for a picture. But then Evan had found he hadn’t wanted to stop kissing Juliet. And judging by the way she clung to him, she hadn’t wanted to stop, either. Her soft lips and warm mouth had been so different from the cold air that had surrounded them.

They had both totally forgotten about the stranger taking their picture, who evidently at some point had just left the camera on a nearby step and walked away, giving the “newlyweds” their privacy. When Evan and Juliet had finally broken apart, they’d both been breathing heavily. And had been confused as hell about what had just happened between them—so unexpected, but so perfectly right at the same time.

They’d been about to go undercover on a critical operation, however, so both of them had pushed whatever had just happened between them aside. Something to deal with later.

Of course, if Evan had known what would happen later, he would’ve made very different choices that day. He would have driven to the nearest hotel and made love with Juliet until neither of them could walk.

Evan took the credit cards and pictures and put them back into the wallet. Maybe it would’ve changed everything, maybe it would’ve changed nothing. He’d never know.

He took Bob Sinclair’s wedding ring and slipped it on his finger. He might as well start getting used to its weight. He picked up the Saint Christopher necklace—Bob and Lisa had matching ones—and placed the chain around his neck. He kissed the medallion as Bob Sinclair had always done.

Evan stood and began packing everything away, straightening up his desk a little. If everything went the way they hoped, he wouldn’t be here in Omega HQ very often over the next few days, for it would be too dangerous. He had done all he could do here at the office. He grabbed the keys to the SUV he’d be driving until the case was over.

It was time to slip on the Bob Sinclair persona. To think like him, walk like him, become him.

Chapter Five

Juliet found herself back at Omega Headquarters the next morning, early again. But for once her early arrival wasn’t due to unreasonable fears and memories driving her from her home. Today she was in because she wanted to be, in order to provide Evan with any support he would need while meeting with Vince Cady.

She didn’t expect there would be a whole lot she could do. Evan wouldn’t be wearing a wire or transmitting device. No agent would take something like that to a first meeting with a perpetrator when he or she was sure to be searched; it would be a quick way to get killed. But if Evan needed any info, or advice Juliet could provide, she wanted to be there for his call.

She felt guilty enough for sending him in alone, but determined not to rehash all that again today. She would just do what she could from this end.

She stopped at the coffee shop down the block from Omega, ordered a cup of her favorite brew and made her way to the nondescript front doors of Sector Headquarters. The lobby of Omega could be mistaken for any financial or business building on the outskirts of Washington, DC. A security desk sat in front of the elevators. Everyone had to show their badges to get by. Nothing unusual.

But it was inside the elevators where the true security started. A retinal and fingerprint scan, as well as an individualized code, were required before a passenger was taken to any secure floor. Nobody just walked off the streets and got into Omega.

It was the reason Juliet felt safe here, when she didn’t anywhere else.

The morning ended up being as uneventful as she had hoped. She sat at her desk, monitoring all calls and electronic submissions that might be coming from Evan. But except for a brief text stating the meeting was confirmed for 11:00 a.m. near the Baltimore Pier, they hadn’t heard anything from him. No news wasn’t necessarily good news in this business, but it wasn’t necessarily bad news, either.

Juliet forced herself to relax. She’d feel better once Evan’s initial meeting with Vince Cady was complete. So much rode on this one event.

Her brother Sawyer stuck his head in the door. “Heard from Karcz?”

“A couple of hours ago. Everything seemed good. Meeting scheduled for eleven.” Juliet looked down at the clock on one of the computer screens she had open. Five minutes to eleven. Moment of truth.

“Cam and I are headed into DC proper. Bomb threat issue and the Bureau needs some extra hands. All available agents are headed in.”

Juliet nodded. “Okay. Well, I’ve definitely got it covered here. Just waiting for Evan to check in after the meeting. Nothing I can really do except wait. But in case he needs any emergency info I want to be standing by.”

“Okay, sis. We’ll be on cell phone silence because of the bomb threat. FBI on the scene is concerned that the perps might be using a cell to detonate, so they’re jamming all frequencies.”

“I’ll figure something out if I need you. I’m expecting a boring day.”

Sawyer left and Juliet went back to her work. One computer actively monitored the Baltimore Police Department. They had no idea what was going on with this case, so could actually stumble in and do harm if she wasn’t careful. She’d give them info on a need-to-know basis, if it looked as if they might interfere with the case somehow. She’d also been reading through the files of Vince Cady’s known associates all morning. Nothing terribly interesting there, either, but Juliet wanted to make sure she was up to speed on all the names and faces.

She almost missed it. Amid the chaos of the monitors and files, hypervigilant in her effort to make sure she could provide any support Evan might need—overcompensating for guilt much?—Juliet almost missed the single communiqué that could bring the entire operation crashing down.

It was an automated email from the Omega system. It had filtered through the Virginia courts and correction system, and provided a list of three people who had been released from a Richmond jail on bond this morning at eight o’clock. Omega’s system only red-flagged info concerning criminals or suspects in their database—people Omega had caught, were currently trying to catch, or planned to catch in the future.

The system listed one of the releases, a low-level hired thug named Mark Bolick, because of the agent who had apprehended the suspect: Evan Karcz. At first Juliet didn’t pay the communiqué any attention. As an analyst, she had multiple lists like this come across her computer screen every day.

Mark Bolick had been arrested last month during an altercation between the crime group DS-13 and some Omega agents, a situation that had almost left her brother Sawyer dead. Most of the members of DS-13, including the dirty ex-FBI agent running the crime ring, had been killed. But some had been arrested, including Bolick. Evan had been undercover, not directly involved in the case. But because Sawyer, the agent in charge, had been in critical condition, Evan had arrested the remaining bad guys. Not common practice in undercover work.

Mark Bolick in and of himself wasn’t much of a problem. Juliet didn’t know why he was getting out on bail so early and didn’t really care. The problem was Bolick had ties to Vince Cady, based on information she’d read in the files this morning. Although he didn’t seem to be a big part of Cady’s organization, he was dating Cady’s niece.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Bolick, after sitting in jail for over a month, would be heading up to Baltimore as soon as possible, probably to see his girlfriend. But it wasn’t a stretch to think he might check in with Cady immediately.

And he’d be sure to remember the man posing as Bob Sinclair as the one who had arrested him just a few weeks before. That would mean the end of the case for Evan.

And probably his life, especially if they’d already discussed any details about anything. Or maybe just because Cady or one of his men would see it as an opportunity to get rid of an undercover cop.

Juliet immediately speed dialed Evan’s phone. A call was risky, but at least produced immediate communication. Evan would be able to talk his way out of it, make up some excuse to Cady about why he was taking the call.

But he didn’t answer.

Juliet immediately sent a text from her computer to the same number. Aunt Suzie had a heart attack. Mom needs you to come home right away.

Aunt Suzie was the signal for general emergency. Come home right away meant to get out of there now. Evan wouldn’t have any details, but he would know what the message meant.

Juliet sat staring at her computer, waiting for the screen to give a received message. All Omega-issued phones had the capacity to show if a message had been received. Helpful, but not foolproof, since it couldn’t notify the handler if the agent was the one who had actually read the text. Just that it had been accessed.

Juliet didn’t necessarily expect Evan to respond, depending on what was going on in the meeting with Cady, but she did want to know the warning had been received.

But nothing. She sent the text again, just to be sure. Still nothing.

Multiple scenarios ran through her head ranging from the benign—Evan was in a momentary situation where he couldn’t access his phone or didn’t have a signal—to the catastrophic—he had already been exposed as an undercover agent and executed by Vince Cady.

Juliet gave it five more minutes, sending the message three more times.

Nothing.

She looked at her watch and did some quick calculations. Eleven-fifteen. Evan should definitely already be meeting with Cady by now. And it was a hundred fifty miles from Richmond to Baltimore, so it was conceivable that Mark Bolick could’ve already made it there, too. She needed to find out where Evan was and get in touch with him.

Juliet opened the program that allowed her to use Evan’s phone as a tracker. She entered in the code for it and waited.

Device not found.

Juliet entered in the code one more time to be sure. Nothing again. Now she really began to worry. There were too many unknowns in this situation. She had to make a decision. She didn’t want to blow the operation for nothing, but neither was she willing to risk Evan’s life.

She called the contact number she had for the Baltimore PD. Quickly she explained the situation to a ranking officer there, asking him to send out a unit to check the location of Evan’s meeting with Cady near the Baltimore Pier, explaining the need for speed but also stealth, if possible. The officer assured her of their cooperation and that he would call back shortly.

It didn’t take long, about fifteen minutes—although it felt much longer—for the officer to call her back. His response had Juliet immediately running down the hall to Burgamy’s office.

“Dennis, we have a problem with Evan in the undercover op,” she told her supervisor, without any preamble. She explained about Mark Bolick.

“Have you contacted Baltimore PD and GPS for his phone?”

“Yes, for both. I’m not getting any GPS location reading for his phone at all. BPD sent a unit to the location I provided, where Evan reported the meeting with Vince Cady would be held, but no one was there. They said it was completely empty, with no sign of any sort of struggle or foul play.”

Burgamy stood. “Okay, that’s both good and bad.”

Juliet knew what he meant. Evan wasn’t lying in a pool of blood somewhere, so that was good. But they had no idea where he was, and no way of contacting him. That was bad.

Very bad.

“It’s just a matter of time before Mark Bolick shows up while Evan is there.” Juliet tried not to pace around Burgamy’s office, but it was difficult.

“Have Baltimore put out an APB on Bolick. Maybe we can catch him before he meets up with Cady and Evan. If he’s in Baltimore, he’s breaking his bond agreement, anyway, by being out of state.”

Juliet had her phone out to make the call.

Burgamy stopped her. “Juliet, you worked with Evan as this persona before. Do you know of any places he might have suggested to Cady? Neutral places that would make the guy more comfortable? Obviously, the meeting wasn’t going as well as Evan hoped if they aren’t at the location they agreed to, and his phone is completely offline.”

This probably wouldn’t have happened if you’d gone undercover with him.

Burgamy didn’t say the words out loud, and may not have even been thinking them. But Juliet could feel them floating in the air. Maybe it was just her own guilt talking.

“I don’t know. Yeah. Maybe a couple of places.” Juliet could picture a few.

“I don’t have any agents to send out. Everybody has gone into DC to help with this bomb issue. Until we know for sure Evan is in trouble, the bomb has to be my priority.”

Juliet nodded. Burgamy was right; he couldn’t pull men off a known crisis for something that was only a possible one. “Okay, I’ll work with Baltimore PD. Hopefully this is just some sort of fluke thing and Evan will be in touch soon.”

But her gut told her the opposite.

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