Deadly Little Secrets Page 0,126

at least three murders with our case.”

At least four, Ana thought, her mind running scenarios, thinking of Luke Gideon.

“What’s the Gandolpho connection?” the commander asked without taking his eyes off his men.

“Perp’s married to one of the daughters.”

“Uh-oh.” The heartfelt rejoinder was heavy with meaning. No one wanted to get involved with a crime family vendetta. Especially not one with a son-in-law.

“Exactly.” Ana spoke for the first time. “He’s got four aliases, is also married to a Greek woman in Jersey, and has his fingers in some international crap too.”

“Handle with extreme care, then,” the commander grunted. “Let me put that through.”

“Hey.” Gates had slipped up from behind without anyone being the wiser, despite his injuries and how carefully he was moving. “Thanks for coming,” he said, grinning at how simple that made it sound.

“Gates!” Ana gasped, throwing caution to the winds and hugging him. She was so relieved to see him, so glad he was unhurt. He woofed out a breath.

“Obviously,” Pretzky drawled, when the SWAT commander and the trooper reacted, “he’s with us.” At her words, the rest of the SWAT members backed down, returning to their watch on the building.

“Easy babe,” Gates murmured as Ana continued to hug him, but he returned the pressure with interest, before he spoke. “There’re at least two men in there with him, Commander,” he informed the SWAT team leader, his arm snuggled tightly around Ana’s shoulders, as if he wouldn’t ever let go. “I’ve been watching. Four in, one left in a panel truck, but it wasn’t our guy. That leaves three in.”

“Got it.” The commander relayed the data, gave orders to move in. “Look sharp, people.”

As delighted as she was to see Gates, to feel him living and breathing, Ana tuned in to that. She frowned.

“We need to stay down,” Gates whispered, “shots may still fly. They’ll go for the kill if anyone pulls a weapon.”

“Crap, you’re right,” she said, remembering the protocols. Everyone would be twitchy knowing the Gandolpho family was involved. They both tensed as the first of the team ducked inside the open roll-up door. The second set of three followed.

The end was anticlimactic. Within minutes they’d sounded the all clear, and all five SWAT members came walking up the drive, three men in handcuffs between them.

“Call the all-in, Williams,” the commander said, and his second opened a channel to do so. From the tree line, she saw two dark-clad men rise and move toward their position. Another two emerged from the parking lot to their left. Another rolled out from under a truck opposite the roll-up doors and followed the prisoners up the drive. “Where’s Elsa?” the commander muttered.

“Hey, Williams,” he said. “Get the bullhorn. Elsa’s gear was shorting. I don’t want her up on that roof all day.”

Williams frowned but ran back to the command truck as they all stood, watching the man she knew as Jack D’Onofrio make his way up the tarmac, along with two men wearing work gear bearing the Gold Ark logo.

Just as D’Onofrio came into view, Williams ran back, bullhorn in hand, and a worried look on his face.

“Boss,” he said. “Elsa’s off today. She’s in Queens with her mother.”

“Then who—”

“GUN!” one of the trailing SWAT team hollered, dropping as she watched, and rolling under a car.

They all ducked down, the other SWAT covering the prisoners as four shots buried themselves in the commander’s vehicle.

The sniper rose, firing again, and the windshield shattered. “Patterson!” the commander yelled. “Take her out!”

“But, Deke!” the man shouted, in protest, obviously unwilling to fire on one of their own.

“It’s not Elsa!” the commander roared back. Four rounds buried themselves in the warehouse wall around the sniper. Another two fired, and they saw the woman stagger. She lifted her weapon a final time, and the shot she got off whistled between Ana and Gates where they crouched behind the quarter panel.

There was another spate of gunfire and a scream. A distant, muffled crash could be heard, then silence.

Looking into her eyes, Gates said, “I think, my love, that it’s finally over.”

Ignoring everyone else, ignoring Pretzky’s hissed call for a report, and the crackle of radios and the commander’s orders, Ana kissed him.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she said, her heart filling and healing with his embrace. Knowing they still had to talk didn’t stop her from feeling the fullness of his embrace, the delight of his body pressed to hers.

He kissed her back, covering her face with kisses before claiming her mouth in a long,