Page 84 of Honor ’N’ Duty

“I am.” She forced a smile, doing her best to hide the bevy of emotions churning inside her. Her hands were sweating buckets as it was. “But I have a bit of a problem.” She sat in one of the chairs facing Li-Mei.

“Oh?” Li-Mei’s brows rose.

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “You see, I’ve lost my key to the box. Both of them, actually. But I’m willing to pay the drilling fee,” she added quickly.

The one downside to her plan was that for every bank’s safe deposit box, two keys were needed, and the keys weren’t the same. The bank had a master key, while whoever rented the box was given two identical renter keys. For security, there were no other copies, and no reputable locksmith would ever make a copy of a bank box key. If both renter keys were lost, the only way to get into the box was to drill through the outer door at the renter’s expense. Where Josh had stashed the spare key was anyone’s guess.

Li-Mei looked at her watch. “Let me make a couple of calls.”

Laia tugged her phone from her pocket to check the time. It was already three p.m. The chances of getting a locksmith on site today were slim to none, but she’d had to try.

She’d received no other calls from the kidnappers, just three from Kade, all of which she’d ignored. She swiped to delete the notifications of his calls and the voicemail messages he’d left for her. Listening to his voice would be enough to undermine her resolve. Talking to him would only shred her heart that much more.

She stuffed the phone back into the pocket of her capris, double-checking to make sure she hadn’t inadvertently put it on vibrate. The only call she didn’t want to miss was the one telling her where and when to bring the ledger and money.

Li-Mei sighed as she hung up the phone on her desk. “As I suspected, our contract locksmith won’t be able to get here until tomorrow morning at the earliest, but he said he’d be here when the door opens. Can you come back tomorrow at nine? You can pay the fee then.”

Again, Laia smiled. “Thank you, Li-Mei, and I’m sorry to put you to this trouble.”

Li-Mei made a pooh-poohing gesture. “No worries. You used to work here, so you know people lose these keys all the time.”

“True,” Laia agreed, standing. “I’m just so embarrassed because I do know that. I should have been more careful. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll be here. Right where I always am, in the lap of luxury.”

With one final wave goodbye, Laia dragged her suitcase through the bank and out the door to Alvita’s minivan.

Knowing how banks worked and given the time of day, the delay in her plan had pretty much been a foregone conclusion. But the night wouldn’t go to waste.

She put the suitcase in the back of the minivan, then started the engine. Rather than driving off, she sat there a moment longer, wondering if she was stupid to try and do this alone. She wasn’t a cop, wasn’t a federal agent, and had zero hands-on experience dealing with homicidal, kidnapping drug cartels.

Shutting her eyes, she let her head fall back against the headrest. Behind her closed lids, Kade’s handsome, worried face appeared, then just as quickly vanished. The urge to call him was a constant, nagging drumbeat in her head and worse…in her heart. But he’d shown his true colors—red, white, and military blue. Duty first and always, no matter the cost. The new-and-improved Laia would have to do this on her own.

With renewed resolve, she cranked the minivan’s gearshift into drive and headed from the parking lot. When she was about to turn onto the road, a police car drove slowly past. She flicked the sun visor down, hoping it concealed her face.

Kade would try to find her. He knew she didn’t have her Escape, but he’d go to the duplex, and when she wasn’t there, he’d go next door to Alvita’s. Her friend would tell him she’d borrowed the minivan. He’d stop at nothing to find her and keep her from going after Rosa alone. He’d—

My phone! How many cop movies had she watched in which people were tracked via their cell phones?

She glanced in her rearview mirror, checking to see if anyone was behind her. When she’d confirmed there wasn’t, she shifted into reverse and backed into the same parking spot she’d been in.

With shaking hands, she removed the battery from her phone. The kidnappers said they wouldn’t call until tomorrow. She could always turn her phone back on periodically to check for messages, just in case.

With her cell phone deactivated, her heart rate began to slow. Once again, she headed from the parking lot, looking left and right for more police cars. She prayed Kade and Manny didn’t get the warrant for the bank box before she had the chance to empty it out.

She drove to a store she’d been to many times for office supplies. In truth, she had no idea what was in the box, but it stood to reason there was money inside. At least, she hoped there was. Because Rosa’s life depended on that money.

Now to put the rest of her plan in motion.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kade parked in front of Cecelia Colon’s house on Tyler Street in Trenton. Jamie pulled up behind him. Since Fernando Colon’s compound had been seized years ago, this was the address of record he’d given when he was paroled two weeks ago. There were no vehicles parked in the immediate vicinity of the house.

That didn’t mean Colon wasn’t inside.

Like many of the old homes in New Jersey’s capitol, the house was barely twenty feet wide and typical of Trenton’s historic “skinny” homes. Unlike the other similar brick houses on the street, Cecelia Colon’s had clapboard siding painted sky-blue with white trim and was the only house on the block—or within a square mile, most likely—that had white flowerpots brimming with red flowers flanking the front door, a black wrought iron and wood bench in the front yard, and a satellite dish attached to the siding. The tiny plot was also the only one with grass that wasn’t dead.

Cecelia Colon’s house was an oasis inside one of the most dangerous cities in the country. If the place had belonged to anyone other than the mother of New Jersey’s most powerful drug lord, the flowerpots, bench, and dish would have been stolen long ago. A reminder of just how much influence and authority Fernando Colon had in the Garden State.