Bulletproof Read online

  “I was at my parents’ too. It’s a shame we didn’t talk Friday—we could have coordinated.” Briana touched her lightly just above the wrist. “Oh, hey. I heard your team won the championship game yesterday. Congrats.”

  She had no idea what was happening here. Was Briana setting some kind of ground rules for acceptable office banter, or was she this touchy-feely with everyone? Either way, Briana’s hand was still resting on the tattoo on her forearm.

  “We did win. Thanks.” She resisted looking at Briana’s hand because she didn’t want her to think the contact was unwelcome. “Stef?” Dylan said, inquiring about the source of her information.

  “I think she only caught the end of the game. She didn’t want Mackenzie to think she’d gotten the best of her.”

  “I get it.” Dylan had seen Stef at the postgame happy hour. It had given her fleeting hope that Briana might be present also. She didn’t want to revisit the funk that eclipsed her entire day at the realization she wasn’t there.

  Rather than give a platform to any of those thoughts right now, she kept it simple. She ticked her head to the coffee setup. “Are we doing coffee or what?”

  A sweet laugh escaped Briana, and she shifted her gorgeous eyes to the floor. “I was searching for those fancy K-Cups Trish gets. I know they’re in here somewhere.”

  Dylan reached up to the highest cabinet with ease. She moved a box of organic sugar and pulled out two boxes. “Crème brûlée,” she said, placing one container on the counter as she twisted the second box in her hand to find the flavor. “Spiced chestnut. Which actually sounds disgusting,” she said examining the ingredients with a laugh. “Trish hides them up here because Nieves gloms on to them, and he never contributes to the fund.”

  “Shocker.” Briana rolled her eyes and took out a crème brûlée pod. “I’m dying for one of these. Our coffee upstairs is the worst. You want one?”

  “Sure,” she said, selecting a pod for herself.

  “Thanks for your help.” Briana placed a paper cup under the spout and pressed the brew button. “I don’t think I would have found them. I definitely wouldn’t have been able to reach.”

  Briana made her coffee and splashed the tiniest bit of skim milk in it. Dylan tried not to stare at her like a fucking stalker. She was just so…pretty. And sweet.

  “You want the milk?” Briana asked, catching Dylan looking.

  “No thanks. I’m a half-and-half person all the way.”

  Briana walked to the small fridge and replaced the skim, grabbed the half-and-half, and handed it to Dylan. “So tell me about this Paul guy,” she said, sipping her coffee.

  “Come here, I’ll show you.”

  Dylan led the way to the link chart they’d updated this morning. A close-up of Paul’s face zoomed in from a surveillance photo was tacked to the side of the semi-filled pyramid of suspects.

  “I think he’s going to fall somewhere in this tier.” Dylan pointed one level above George and Benji. “Problem is we have no pedigree on him at all. When Trevor and I saw him the other day, it was just the two of us in the field. We lost him in pedestrian traffic, so we didn’t even see him get into a car we could trace back or anything.”

  “That’s tough.” Briana seemed to be studying the players, and Dylan wondered what she was thinking. Almost on cue Briana added, “Thank God you’re here. I honestly don’t know where we’d be if you hadn’t come to us when you did.”

  Dylan thought she knew exactly where the two of them might be if not for their worlds intertwining in this semi-unfortunate yet perfect way. Briana must have had the same thought because she blushed and cleared her throat.

  “I meant with the case. Sorry about that.” She tipped her head to sip her coffee.

  “No worries.” Dylan took a drink to clear her mind of the perfectly inappropriate image that had materialized. “Anyway, Dom and Karrakas are following Rivas right now. Trish and Ahmed are on Goldenballs. I mean Benji.”

  “Goldenballs.” Briana shook her head but smiled. “Men.”

  “It’s a ridiculous nickname—I’m not arguing that point. Thing is, though, it’s telling. There’s a closeness there. Maybe even a jealousy. It’s the kind of dumb thing my half-brothers would say to tease each other. My guess is Paul and Benji end up being related.”

  “Makes sense.” Briana’s hazel eyes held both depth and sincerity. “You’re very smart, Dylan.” Her compliment made Dylan feel like a superstar, and she shifted her attention to the floor, so Briana wouldn’t see the effect it had on her.

  “We’ll see. Intel is trying to dig as much as possible through Benji Rafferty’s records. In the meantime, me and Trevor”—she nodded to the wire room a few feet away—“are going to attempt to find a needle in a haystack.”

  Briana crinkled her forehead in question.

  “We’re going to search through old booking photos to see if we can find Paul.”

  “That’s ambitious.” Briana’s expression showed she was equal parts impressed by the level of commitment and skeptical about the chance of results.

  It truly was a ridiculous undertaking, but Dylan loved a challenge. “It’s a long shot, for sure.” She shrugged. “No harm in trying.”

  “I have complete faith in you.” The smile Briana gave her was worth every second of being ignored on Friday. “In all of you.” She did the cute scrunchy thing with her nose again. “But especially you.”

  Dylan looked right at her. She wanted her expression to show the gratitude she felt over Briana’s confidence in her. But when their eyes met, something else took center stage.

  Heat.

  “Yo. What’s up guys?” Trevor popped his head out of the wire room and broke the moment. Which was probably a good thing. It was, Dylan told herself repeatedly. She was not going to make a move. Not today. Not tomorrow. Most definitely not at work. But man, that one look sent her heart into A-fib.

  “Anything yet?” Dylan had to fight through a thicket of tension to speak.

  “Nah. The program is still booting up.” He looked at their coffee cups. “You two went for the secret stash, I see. Nice.” He stuffed his hands in the pouch pocket of his hoodie.

  “Sorry, bro, I completely forget to make you one.”

  Trevor let her off the hook with a dismissive wave. “I really didn’t want one anyway.” He nodded at the diagram of the criminal enterprise under investigation. “We’re getting there, Briana. I’m telling you. Benji and Paul are going to be key.”

  “Dylan was just saying the same thing.” Briana held her coffee with both hands, sort of cradling the cup. She swayed a little in place. “I should let you guys do your thing,” she said as she backed toward the door. “Tell Trish I’ll Venmo her my monthly coffee contribution. And if you two need anything at all”—she flashed that million dollar smile—“I’m right upstairs.”

  “She’s the best,” Trevor said.

  Dylan wondered if he picked up on any of their energy but simply agreed with a nod. She had no confidence her voice wouldn’t completely betray her if she spoke.

  “Ahmed called in a few minutes ago,” he said, still one hundred percent focused on the chart. “Nothing doing in the street. I told him the phones were quiet too. These boneheads are probably still asleep.”

  Dylan checked her watch: 10:10. “Ah, the glorious life of a middle-class pill pusher.” She clapped his shoulder. “Come on, let’s see if we can put a full name to his face.”

  For the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon, they pored through hundreds of pictures but got no closer to identifying the elusive Paul.

  It was almost three o’clock when Dylan’s phone vibrated with a message from Briana.

  Any luck with the photo booking system?

  Nothing at all.

  Don’t give up :)

  Dylan tilted her head to the side, fully analyzing Briana’s choice of words. On the one hand, the language was completely harmless. The prosecuting attorney communicating a boost in morale to the
case detective, possibly even issuing an assurance it would all work out.

  But Briana was a smart woman. She had to see the possibility of a double meaning, intended or not.

  I won’t, she typed back.

  Briana’s response was immediate: Good.

  Was this subtext or was she reading in to it? Either way she was thankful Trevor was too engrossed in their project to notice her huge smile. She contemplated continuing the reverie but instead put her phone away, letting the contact end on this ambiguous high note.

  It wasn’t until much later that evening when she was settled into her cozy apartment with her feet up on the end of her living room couch that Dylan reached out again.

  Sorry to bother you at home, Dylan started.

  Briana’s response was instant: Who says I’m home?

  It was a gut punch she wasn’t expecting. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard at the image of Briana laughing and flirting at dinner or drinks. She took a deep breath, knowing she needed to be cool, but when she opened her eyes again, there was a new message.

  Just kidding. What’s up?

  I wasn’t sure if anyone updated you on what we found today…

  Haven’t talked to anyone but you. OMG. Did you actually find an old mug shot of Paul?

  No. That was a complete bust.

  Briana hadn’t spoken to anyone but her. The tidbit made her disproportionately happy. Even though she knew her information could wait, she’d wanted an excuse for contact. Whether Briana chose to read between those lines remained to be seen. However, records analysis uncovered someone of interest. J. Paul Rafferty. He’s a cousin of our boy Benji.

  See! You knew it. Several clapping emojis followed.

  She felt her chest puff out in response to the praise. We don’t know much yet, she typed back, not wanting to oversell the info. I could give you the details over crème brûlée tomorrow…

  Sounds delicious.

  Dylan felt herself smiling ridiculously and wondered if a mere few blocks away Briana was doing exactly the same.

  Chapter Seven

  “So he’s an attorney?” Briana asked, even though the answer was in front of her in black and white. J. Paul Rafferty, Esquire. She sat at the NYPD lunch table in the squad area perusing the LexisNexis printout. Rafferty’s law firm and home address were listed on the public records site, as well as his undergrad and law school degrees.

  “Apparently.” Dylan leaned over her and tapped her finger next to a line at the bottom of the page. “Did you see this yet?”

  “Wine Bar,” she read aloud. “What is that?”

  “Hold up.” Dylan returned the carton of half-and-half to the minifridge. “Let me just grab this, and I’ll come sit with you.” Briana watched her reach beyond a cubicle partition for a folder. She pulled up a chair and sat so close Briana could smell her hair product.

  Dylan set her coffee down and pulled three grainy prints out. “This is the Wine Bar. It’s going to be the key to everything. I can feel it.”

  “Okay.” Briana took an indulgent sip of her crème brûlée. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure where this was going, but she was enjoying the company. It was barely eight a.m., and the plant was empty except for the two of them. Right or wrong, she could get used to these one-on-one sessions. She leaned over and brushed Dylan’s shoulder with hers. “So tell me about the Wine Bar.”

  “The Wine Bar.” Dylan held one finger in the air. “Admittedly we don’t know much.” She hung her head and let out a low sexy laugh. “Trev and I took a ride by last night to see if the place looked legit.”

  “And?”

  “It was quiet. But it was hard to get a good view from the car. That’s where we snapped these pics.” She lined up her pictures precisely. “It’s right next to this restaurant, Victor’s”—she pointed to the farthest image—“but we’re not sure if the two establishments are connected or not.”

  “You think they might be?”

  “I really don’t know. Trevor and I have some theories, though.”

  “Where is Trevor?” she asked, looking around.

  “He had to make a stop on the way in. I told him I was going to update you, though.” Dylan put a finger over her lips to indicate a level of secrecy. “We haven’t briefed Nieves yet. So this has to stay between us for now.”

  “Ooh,” she crooned. “I feel special.”

  Dylan gave her the hint of a crooked smile, and Briana sensed something devilish and divine in her pale blue eyes before she shifted her attention to the paperwork on the table.

  “I know it shouldn’t matter,” Dylan said. “You’re more invested in the case than he is.” She tapped her coffee cup on the table. “But he’s a stickler for chain of command. So obviously we’ll bring him up to speed when he’s here later. Probably around noon.” She chewed her lip and looked a touch unsettled. “I’m only mentioning specifics because I’m sure he’ll call you right after and expect credit for breaking the news. It would be cool if you could act surprised. I hate asking you to lie…”

  “Don’t worry, I can fake it.”

  Dylan hitched one eyebrow up at the expression, and Briana felt her face turn red.

  “I didn’t mean…I just meant…” She took a small moment to collect herself, owning her embarrassment with a grin. “No need to worry. I’ll make sure Nieves thinks he’s the hero.” She tapped Dylan’s knee. “But tell me the plan because I’m curious.”

  “So I was thinking…and I know it’s early still.” Briana watched her study the pictures and printouts as she spoke. “I bet this bar is the place where Paul meets up with Benji and George.”

  “Why do you think so?”

  Dylan chewed the inside of her cheek for a few seconds. “I don’t know. Gut feeling.”

  “But the surveillances haven’t led there, have they?” She hated poking a hole in Dylan’s hypothesis, but it was the truth as far as she knew.

  “No.” Dylan seemed loaded with confidence as she leaned back in her chair. “We’ve only been on them for a few weeks. What we’ve covered so far is mostly drug deals. George selling to his clients. We think Paul is higher up the ladder. He’s probably supplying George and Benji with their stash. So they have to meet up somewhere for that to happen. I think it’s going to be the Wine Bar. If we catch them in there together, I’m thinking maybe we could put a bug inside.”

  “Put an eavesdropping device in the location?”

  “Yes.”

  There was absolutely no hesitation in Dylan’s answer, and Briana wanted to agree on the spot. The way Dylan talked about the case, her lack of indecision, her total control—it was a complete turn-on. But what she was suggesting was still well beyond their reach.

  “I’m not saying no, but we need a lot more probable cause before we could even consider such an aggressive tactic.” She saw Dylan’s face fall at being shot down, and she longed to fix it.

  Briana reached over and touched Dylan’s thigh for comfort and reassurance. “It’s a good idea, Dylan. It really is. Let’s just take it one step at a time.”

  “Of course.” The spirit returned to Dylan’s eyes and Briana felt herself smile ridiculously.

  “What’s the plan?” Briana sipped her coffee indulgently. She could sit and listen to Dylan talk all day and convince herself it was for the furtherance of the investigation. Even though she knew it was complete bullshit.

  “We’re going to shift the focus to Benji, hoping his relationship to Paul comes through for us. Right now we’re spread a little thin. So I’ll be in and out of the field. Trevor too.”

  “Did I hear my name?” Trevor barreled into the office with a ton of gear in tow. “You guys and this terrible coffee.” He shook his head in disapproval. “Mind-boggling,” he muttered, barely under his breath. “Buddy, did you tell Briana the master plan to get inside the place?”

  “I was getting there.”

  “With a bug, you mean?” Briana asked.

  “Actually, a body.”


  Briana was lost and she looked to Dylan for an explanation.

  “We were thinking to gather PC to get authorized to install the bug, maybe I’d go in and see if I could get these guys to talk to me. Or at least in front of me.”

  “Undercover, you mean?”

  “Light undercover, but yeah.”

  “What’s light undercover?”

  “I would just go in and chat,” Dylan said. “Be a patron. A person going for a drink.”

  “The two of you?” Briana waved a finger between them. She watched Dylan and Trevor exchange a glance.

  “Eh, prob not.” Trevor uncovered his gourmet coffee and took the first sip. “We were thinking Dylan and Trish.”

  “Okay,” she said, waiting for more explanation.

  “I look like a cop,” Trevor said, answering her silent question. “Me and Dylan don’t read as a couple anyway. But Dylan and Trish, that could work.” He let a moment pass. “Think about it. Two good looking women who are together—that’s eye catching for sure.” He took another long drink of his coffee before adding, “In my opinion this approach could accomplish several things. First, we’d have eyes inside. Plus Dylan and Trish are less likely to get pegged as law enforcement, and their presence might garner some attention from our targets.”

  “And that’s a good thing?” Briana didn’t hide her shock.

  “I know what you mean,” Trevor said with a slight laugh. “And you’re not wrong. Typically, the goal is to blend. But in this scenario…” He flashed a look at Dylan, and Briana could tell this was something they’d thought through. “We think attention could foster interaction.”

  “Briana, these guys…” Dylan looked right at her. “I know I was only in their presence that one time. But I hear them talk on the phone. They are always looking to hook up.” She rolled her eyes. “They think they’re, like, studs, players. My guess, they go for the bait in no time.”