her computer case, the evening had been a surprising success.
Chapter Eight
Fitting Mitch with a mic had been a last-minute decision. Fuse heard everything, and by the time his partner returned through the back door, Fuse had already obtained information on the tenant to the east.
“Did you find out anything?”
“A guy named Tony Reyes lives in the apartment on the east side of Brit. I met him during one of my recons of the complex. Introduced himself as with the Phoenix P.D. Real arrogant little shit.”
Mitch snorted, dropping into one of the large, upholstered chairs. “My guess is the guy’s as much a LEO as me,” he said, referring to a law enforcement officer.
“I’ll get Raider to do a deep background on Reyes. Hell, it probably isn’t his real name.” Fuse shifted in his chair, a sneer on his lips. “You know, the hidden opening between the units can be used both ways.”
A slow grin brightened Mitch’s solemn features. “We need to plant cameras and mics in his place.”
“He’s already gone out and returned tonight.”
“Hold on.” Mitch pulled his phone from a pocket, bringing up a local number. “Good evening, ma’am. I need to get a message to Officer Tony Reyes. Could be Anthony Reyes.” He waited, absently rubbing his too full stomach. “Are you certain? I can do that. Thank you, ma’am.”
“No Tony Reyes, right?”
“Right. She suggested I check with Scottsdale, Mesa, and a few other nearby cities.” Rubbing his eyes, he shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “Can’t remember the last time I ate so much.”
“All in the line of duty, my man.” Fuse stared at the screen, watching as Brittany stretched both hands above her head, then bent down to touch her fingers on the floor. He knew this move. She used to stretch the same way right before heading to bed…and to him.
Throat constricting, he continued to watch as she turned off the lights, moving into the darkness toward her bedroom. His heart slammed into his chest, breath coming in shallow, painful gulps.
“I’ve got to get out of here. You okay for a while?”
Mitch’s narrowed gaze studied him, already knowing what ate at his partner. “I’m good. Take as long as you need.”
Grabbing a jacket, Fuse stalked across the room to the patio door. Moving into the darkness, he took a path around the complex. Breathing in the cool desert air, he studied every unit, doors, windows, and landscape as he moved, more a ghost than a man.
They now knew Tony Reyes wasn’t with the police department. He’d become the lead suspect in placing the rattler inside her apartment. Fuse believed Reyes would also be the one to carry out the latest threat on Brittany.
Reaching the back of her apartment, he slowed, tugging the ball cap farther down on his head. Her patio light was off, the only illumination coming from the moon and parking lot. As with each pass, he saw nothing. This time, he knew why.
Moving on to Reyes’s unit, he stopped, searching in a pocket for gum. Popping it in his mouth, he pretended to be watching the stars while listening. He wondered if the fake cop had hunkered down in front of his television, giving up for the night.
Since Mitch had found the hidden access between the two apartments a couple hours earlier, Fuse had been thinking of all the ways he wanted to torture Reyes, make him give up the people who’d hired him to scare Brittany. No matter the desire, it wouldn’t happen.
Blackmore said the newest threat would occur between Monday and Wednesday. It was now Tuesday night. If the call to the senator was accurate, they had less than thirty-six hours to identify the threat and stop it.
Brittany shoved hair from her face, shifting to a more comfortable position. She checked the clock. Three in the morning.
Lifting up on one elbow, she pounded the pillow, wishing for the hundredth time she’d packed one from her house in Manassas. It had been the first item added to her Bring from Home list started within hours of arriving.
Lying back down, she drew a shallow breath, nose wrinkling. She tried again, this time sitting up at the pungent smell of rotten eggs. Gas.
Throwing off the covers, she shifted on the bed, reaching for the lamp. Instead of grasping the knob, her hurried movements clipped the side of the ceramic light. It crashed to the laminated wood floor, shards flying.
“Damn it.” She stared down at the sharp pieces of ceramic, then winced at the sight