The Spy (King’s Security #3)

Chapter 23

23

FIONA

I could have kissed Kade, I was so grateful to see him.

“I’m fine,” I said. “But they have Zeke.”

“Shit.” He drew back and tapped his earpiece. “The suspects have Zeke. Approach with caution.” He was quiet for a moment as someone replied to him, then said, “Follow them. The tracker will lead us straight to them. Don’t shoot again unless there’s no other option. We don’t want Zeke caught in the crossfire. Understood?” Another silence, and then he turned to me. “They’ve escaped in a vehicle. The driver may have been shot, and one of our men was injured by the car. We’re on their tail. We’ll get Zeke back.”

I clutched my chest. “They got away?”

Why had I let Zeke go with them? I should have fought. I’d failed him.

“Not for long,” he assured me. “Can you let me into the building?”

“It locks from the outside. ”

“Right.” He nodded. “We’ll try to pick the lock, and if that fails, we’ll come in by force. We’ll get you out of there, Fi.”

“Don’t worry about me.” My throat was thick with emotion. “Just save Zeke.”

His mouth formed a line. “Zeke’s top priority is making sure you’re safe. He made me promise that I’d stay with you personally if anything were to go wrong.”

A sob escaped me, and I clapped my hand to my mouth. That damn fool had put me before himself once again. Didn’t he realize that he was important too?

“Wait there and don’t move,” Kade said, vanishing from view.

My stomach churned as I stared into the dark. My eyes adjusted, and I could see figures moving, some coming closer and others leaving—hopefully to go after Zeke. I couldn’t believe this had gone so wrong. It was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission. But because I’d wanted to take the pressure off Patience and let her know we were on our way to a breakthrough, everything had gone pear-shaped.

This was all my fault.

There was an almighty crash and the sound of splintering wood. I rushed out of the bathroom and gaped at the ragged hole where the door used to be. Somehow, it had been torn off its hinges, and it had taken a chunk of the doorframe with it. The whole thing lay at my feet. Kade dropped something that looked like a battering ram, stepped through the doorway, and scanned me from head to toe, perhaps confirming that I was unharmed. He removed the night vision visor and squinted past me into the shop area.

“Is that the painting?” he asked.

“No, it’s a copy. They took the real thing with them. ”

He rubbed his jaw. “We’ll leave it. Let’s get out of here.”

He offered me his hand, and I reached toward him, but we both froze when a siren wailed in the night. Blue and red lights filled the alley behind us, and the King’s Security team hurried to holster their weapons.

I closed my eyes and groaned. As if this wasn’t bad enough, the cops were here.

“Come on.” Kade put an arm around my shoulders and guided me out. “We’ll sort this out.”

I wasn’t so certain.

“Fiona Ryan.” I winced at the familiar sound of Detective Harrison’s voice. “What the hell is going on?”

“We confronted the thieves who stole the Monet from the Windy City Gallery,” Kade said as the pair of detectives approached. “They escaped in a dark sedan with a hostage.”

Goodwin arched his eyebrow. “You expect us to believe that when it looks like you’re up to no good and just trying to cover your tracks?” He glanced past us and stilled. His eyes widened. “That’s it.” A grin spread over his face. “That’s the Monet. Halle-fucking-lujah.”

Harrison brushed past us and went to the painting. She scanned it and pulled a phone from her pocket, possibly checking it against a photo of the original.

“It looks like it,” she agreed, and unhooked a pair of handcuffs from her belt. “Hands out, Ryan.”

My jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

For God’s sake. They were letting Bergen and Patience get further away. They needed to get a move on, and call for reinforcements.

“That’s a forgery!” I exclaimed. “Any impressionist art expert worth their salt would be able to tell you that if you give them a few minutes to study it.”

Yes, perhaps they wouldn’t be able to identify Bergen’s signature brush stroke the way I had, but they’d still be able to prove it was a fake.

“In that case, you’re in possession of a forgery,” Harrison said. “Either way, you’re coming with us.” She jerked her head at Kade as she clamped the cuffs around my wrists. “You, too. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all accessories to a crime. We just need to work out exactly what the crime is.”

My jaw clenched. “While you’re working that out, they’re getting away with the real Monet. Zeke is in danger. Please. I don’t care what you think you know. Please help him.”

Harrison looked at Goodwin, who shrugged.

“Put Officers Smith and Hernandez on the case,” he said. “Rather waste their time than ours.”

Harrison stepped aside and made a call. Meanwhile, Goodwin gestured at the exit.

“Please, walk ahead of me, Miss Ryan,” he said. “Mr. Campbell, do I need to cuff you, or will you come willingly?”

“I’ll come,” Kade said. “But you’re making a mistake.”

Goodwin laughed. “That’s what they all say.”

He opened the back door of the police cruiser and indicated for us to get in. I climbed in and scooted over, making room for Kade.

“I’m so sorry about this,” I murmured. Our current predicament was all on me. If I hadn’t dated a thieving asshole four years ago, none of this would ever have happened. Zeke wouldn’t be in harm’s way and Kade wouldn’t be in a tight spot with me.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, as if reading my mind. “We chose to be involved. The only person to blame for this is Bergen.”

“And Patience,” I added, still shocked by the second betrayal. Somehow, even though we were no longer friends, I felt blindsided by her actions. Back when she and Bergen had supposedly started sleeping together, we had been friends. What kind of person screwed their friend’s boyfriend?

Harrison emerged from the building and got into the passenger seat just as Goodwin claimed the driver’s seat.

“Backup is two minutes out,” Harrison said. “They’ll secure the scene and start questioning witnesses.”

“Great.” Goodwin eased the car forward, moving slowly. He didn’t pull out of the property until another police car—lights flashing—swerved in beside us. Then he raised a hand to the other cops and started the journey back to the police station.

“Please make sure someone is looking for Zeke,” I pleaded, not afraid to beg if it meant he came home safely. I was terrified of what they might do to him, especially if he antagonized them.

When we reached the police station, they separated me from Kade. I was escorted to the same interrogation room they’d put me in last time. I expected them to start asking questions, but instead, they left immediately. The lock clicked ominously into place behind them.

ZEKE

“I’d rather not,” I told Bergen, knowing that as soon as I got out of the car, they’d probably shoot me.

“Get out,” he repeated, waving the gun in my face. His complexion was waxy, his jaw tight with pain.

“No, thanks.” I didn’t move an inch. “I have absolutely no incentive to get out. If I do, you’ll shoot me. You apparently don’t want to make a mess in your car, so I’m safer if I stay right here. ”

“Patience.” He shot his girlfriend a look. “Get him out.”

Wide-eyed, Patience got out of the passenger door and moved around to open my door. Bergen climbed out of the driver’s seat, reset the locks, and joined her. The way he was holding his shoulder made me think he’d need to seek medical treatment soon. He was an artist. He wasn’t used to dealing with this level of pain. Adrenaline was keeping him going for the moment, but it wouldn’t for much longer.

Patience cautiously bent and reached for my ankles to drag me out. I snapped one of my legs up, kicking her in the face. She reeled backward, blood spurting from her nose.

At that moment, another vehicle pulled up behind us and men spilled from it, rushing at us. Bergen spun, raising his gun with his good arm, but he was too slow. Someone tackled him to the ground, disarming him in the process. Patience flailed, still bleeding, as a dark figure leaped on her and pinned her arms behind her back. A silent struggle ensued, and a minute later, both Bergen and Patience were subdued, their hands cuffed and an armed guard standing over them.

“Zeke, you all good in there?” I recognized the voice as belonging to David, one of Kade’s unit leaders.

“Peachy,” I called. “Great timing.”

David appeared in front of me and helped me up. “Your tracker made it easy.”

He unsheathed a knife from his belt and cut the zip tie off. I rubbed my wrists. They tingled as blood flowed back into my hands.

“Is Fiona safe?” I asked, cutting straight to the chase.

“Hold on.” He grabbed his radio. “Let me check in. We switched communication channels after we separated from the others, so we couldn’t get our wires crossed.” He turned away and spoke to someone at the other end. When he turned back, his expression had darkened. “She’s safe. ”

“Thank fuck.” I allowed myself to feel a sliver of relief, but not too much. His expression made me wary. “But?”

“Apparently a couple of detectives turned up shortly after us. They took Fiona and Kade in for questioning, and according to Vic, it didn’t look friendly.”

My hands tightened into fists. “Those fuckers.”

As if Fiona hadn’t already been through enough. They must have gotten there so quickly because of the call Patience made. I’d hoped my interruption would cast doubt on their story, but it seemed it hadn’t been enough.

“Did anyone find my watch?” I asked.

David repeated the question into the radio. “They’ve got it, but it’s damaged,” he said.

I forced myself to draw in a slow breath. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if I self-combusted. “Someone needs to check whether the recording device is still functional, and if so, take a copy and get it to the police immediately. I used it to record our confrontation.”

A grin spread across David’s face. “Good thinking. I’ll get them on it immediately.”

“Can you take me there?” I asked. “Actually, wait. Have the watch sent to Jonah in the office and tell him it’s urgent. I need to get to Fiona ASAP.”

David’s smile faded. “About that…”

My eyes narrowed. I didn’t like his tone. “What about it?”

He held his hands up in a gesture of peace. “I’m just the messenger.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “We have orders from Ronan not to let you talk to the police without him there. Something about damage control. He also wants you to be checked over by a medic.”

I growled, frustration building within me. I felt jittery after my narrow escape, and however well-intentioned it might be, I wasn’t in the mood for Ronan’s meddling. “Have him meet us there,” I said. “With a medic too, if he insists. And tell him we’re bringing these two.” I waved at Patience and Bergen. “Cole will definitely need a medic, but I don’t want him out of our sight.”

David studied me for a moment, then nodded. “That should work. I’ll talk to Ronan. What should we do with the painting?”

I hesitated. “Call Joanna Lee and ask her to come, or to send a cop she trusts. I know it’s not her department, but insist. Tell her I’m collecting on a favor.”

“Got it.”

“Also, don’t leave the painting alone. I want at least two people guarding it at all times until the police have taken it in as evidence. They’ll be able to confirm it’s the real deal.”

He jerked his chin in acknowledgment and barked orders into his radio. A few minutes later, we were crawling toward the police station at exactly a mile an hour less than the speed limit because David refused to run the risk of getting pulled over when we had handcuffed criminals in the back seat. One of his team rode in the back with them to keep them in line, while David and I sat in the front. When we finally arrived, I threw the door open before we’d fully stopped and rushed toward the entrance. Ronan was there with Jared, one of the medics we called in when needed.

“Hey.” To my surprise, Ronan stepped forward and hugged me. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. Thought I wasn’t going to be for a minute there.” I glanced toward the entrance. “Fiona is still inside?”

He nodded. “Are Cole and the gallery manager in the car?”

“Yeah.”

His jaw tightened. “I’ll make sure they’re dealt with appropriately.”

He clapped me on the shoulder and strode off, leaving me with Jared. The medic was on the shorter side, with a slim build and sandy blond hair.

He gave me a friendly smile. “Do you have any injuries other than the bruising on your face?”

I tried to remember whether I’d been hurt anywhere else, impatient to get inside. “I don’t think so.”

There hadn’t been much in the way of a struggle since I’d gone with them willingly in a bid to get them away from Fiona.

Jared studied my face. He grabbed my chin and tilted my head one way then the other before prodding my tender cheekbone. I bared my teeth but didn’t wince.

“I don’t think there’s anything broken,” he said and fished a flashlight from his pocket. He aimed it into my eyes. “Pupil movement is even. What day is it?”

“Tuesday, or maybe Wednesday at this point.”

He ran me through a few more questions before he seemed satisfied.

“I don’t believe you’re concussed, but just to be safe, have someone stay with you overnight and try not to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time.”

I nodded, familiar with the spiel. This wasn’t my first head knock.

“You should ice your cheek,” he said, although his expression told me he knew I didn’t intend to bother. He waved a hand. “Get going. Go find out how your girlfriend is.”

“Thanks, Jared.” I left before he changed his mind and made a beeline for the reception desk inside the station. A young man sat behind the glass partition. His eyes widened as I approached.

“How can I help you?” he asked, his tone surprisingly firm.

“I’m here to see Fiona Ryan. ”

I was getting her out of here ASAP. I just hoped someone had called Ariadne.

The guy typed something into the computer and frowned. “I’m afraid you can’t see Miss Ryan yet,” he said apologetically.

I scowled. “Where is she?”