Syndi Powell

Afraid To Lose Her


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of coffee and sighed. “We’re missing something. I know it, but I can’t figure out what.”

      “You’re sure this list is inclusive? What about the DEA’s informant? Where did they get their intel from?” He sipped from his own coffee and took a seat on the edge of Sherri’s desk. “How do we know that their source was reliable?”

      “The DEA isn’t talking right now, so we’re in the dark.” She shook her head. “They lost agents in that raid, so they’re holding their cards close to their chests.” She pressed Save on the computer and pushed away from her desk. “Something doesn’t seem right about this whole thing.”

      “You’re thinking a mole?”

      “I don’t know yet for sure, but it does seem like someone wanted them to know we were coming. If we had kept our planned time, they probably wouldn’t have been there. But then the lead agent bumped up our arrival and...”

      “And they had to shoot their way out.” He noticed the dark smudges under her eyes, and something inside him reared its head. He wanted desperately to protect her from whatever this was. To keep her safe. “What time is your doctor appointment?”

      “Four. I came in early to make up my shorter day. I told Mama I’d pick her up at three thirty.”

      She looked so small, so scared. He’d never seen her like this. She was so confident, so assured. But this same woman seemed to have shrunken into herself. He put a hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything...”

      Sherri stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t do that.”

      He looked down at himself and held his arms out. What in the world was she talking about? “I’m just offering my support.”

      “I’m not sick or dying.” But the look on her face told a different story.

      “Didn’t say you were.” He noticed that her eyes filled with tears, and he muttered a soft curse before pulling her in his arms. “Don’t tell me this isn’t appropriate, but you look like you could use a hug.”

      She pushed him away. “That’s what I’m talking about. Don’t hug me or tell me it’s going to be okay. I need you to act normal. Got it?”

      He sure did. His warrior was scared to death about this doctor’s appointment and what it could mean for her future. Their future. A bullet had come close to taking her away from him, and now cancer could be threatening to do the same? He swallowed at the acid at the back of his throat. He couldn’t lose her. His life didn’t make sense without her. He nodded. “Normal. I can do that.”

      “Good.” She picked up her coffee and looked around the office where agents started to trickle in. “Now find us a case or something to occupy our time until I have to leave.”

      “I’ve got just the thing.” He pulled a file from his desk next to hers and plopped it down. “Fake IDs and passports confiscated at the Detroit-Windsor border. Want to find who’s making them?”

      Sherri grinned, and Dez felt like he’d gotten his partner back from her inner turmoil.

      “You really know how to make this girl’s day,” she said.

      * * *

      SHERRI GLANCED AT the swarthy guy who sat in the chair across the table from her, then looked down at the file in front of her. She stood and started to pace around the interrogation room while Dez casually leaned against one wall.

      He’d agreed that she’d take lead in the questioning, so she slammed a fist on the file. The guy rolled his eyes at her, which just ticked her off even more. “This is a serious matter, Giroux. You’re selling fake passports and IDs, which is a felony. But then you’re selling them to people on the Department of Homeland Security’s watch list? Now we’re talking treason.” She leaned over the table. “Much more serious.”

      His eyes flicked to her chest. “Hey! Eyes up here, buddy. Not here.” She pointed to her chest. “But here.” She pointed to her face.

      Dez put a hand on her arm, but she shook it off. “Giroux, you’re not the mastermind behind this. We know it, you know it. So why don’t you tell us who is, and maybe we can see if treason can be a mere five-year stint in prison.”

      Giroux eyed the door. “You got the wrong guy.”

      Dez picked up a box that had been sitting on the floor and dumped its contents on the table. “These look like your handiwork to me.” He grabbed one and put it in front of Giroux. “This one should be familiar. We picked him up on a different charge and he gave us your name.”

      Giroux tossed the passport back to Dez. “You got nothing,” he said and settled back in his chair as if he had all the time in the world. “But I can give you something you want.”

      Aha. They had him. “Now you’re being smart. Who’s behind the counterfeit ring?” she pressed.

      Giroux shook his head. “That’s small potatoes compared to what I have for you.” He leaned in and dropped his voice. “You’re investigating a drug raid gone bad, right? I can give you names of the guys who were there. And more important, who wasn’t.” Sherri tried to keep her surprise off her face, but knew she’d failed when Giroux smirked. “Yeah, you’re interested.”

      “You don’t know what I am,” Sherri barked at him.

      “Agent Lopez.” Dez gestured toward the door. “A word?”

      Sherri gave a curt nod. Once outside the interview room, she punched Dez in the shoulder. “We had him and you call me out here for a conference?”

      “Because you were losing sight of what we’re here to do. And that’s to take down a bunch of counterfeiters trying to bring some scary people across our borders.”

      She frowned at him. She hadn’t forgotten why they were there, but if they could get a lead on the drug raid, too? They couldn’t let that opportunity pass them by. “But what if we could do both?”

      “Giroux is not going to give up both. It’s either or.” Dez paused and then added, “Come on, Sherri, we don’t want to lose this. We’ve come this far. He either gives us the ringleader on the counterfeit ring or he goes down. That’s it. No deals about the raid. No complications. Period.”

      “Let me at least try. We owe it to those agents who didn’t make it. Dez, in your heart you know I’m right. And if I am, then we solve two cases at once.”

      Dez waved her off. “No way. Eyes on the prize, Ace. We’re not going for extra credit here.”

      “Fine. Be like that.” She opened the door and walked into the room to resume the interrogation. “Giroux, you and I both know you have no intention of doing time for your boss. Let him get the heavy sentence while you serve a couple of months in a cushy cell.”

      “I give you his name then I’m dead anyway.”

      His eyes drifted down toward her chest, and Sherri slapped the table and pointed to her eyes. Dez sat on the table on the other side of Giroux. “We can offer you protection before and during the trial, after which you’ll serve a short term in a minimum security prison where you can play tennis and work on your tan.”

      Giroux refused. “You’ve got to give me something better.”

      Dez put his hand on the back of the chair Giroux sat in and leaned his face close to him. “There is no better, but I guarantee you that I’ll give you a lot worse if you don’t cooperate. The fact is, you being hauled in here has already made your boss wonder what you’ve told us. You really think he’ll believe you didn’t spill the beans?” He stood and pulled out his cell phone and threw it at Sherri, who caught it neatly. “We’re not getting anywhere. Call Spinks in the DA’s office and tell him that—”

      “Wait,” Giroux protested. “I’ll tell you.”

      She started to punch the