Or that had been the case up until she’d graduated nursing school. Then she’d started dating Matteo “Matt” Marino and made the dumbest decision she could. He knew a guy, Corvino DeLuca, looking for a private nurse. She took the job without a second thought. The pay was good, and it beat long hospital hours. Look how that had ended. “I want better for her.”
“All parents do. When she makes those mistakes, use them as moments to teach her. Yes, the decision was bad, and there are consequences as a result, but what can she learn from this? Don’t just be someone telling her what to do all the time. Help her grow as you do.”
She hadn’t thought about it that way. How could she turn this into a learning situation? There was definitely a “be careful who you hang out with because they tend to rub off” lesson here.
She’d been around Matt for months and hadn’t turned into a mobster. But this wasn’t the same—not even close. Back then, she hadn’t known who he really was. Not until the FBI had shown up and shattered the illusion. After that, everything had shifted—watching where he went, who stopped by, memorizing names and faces, tracking movements like her life depended on it. Because it had.
She’d been so young and desperate, especially with Bella to think about. The hours had been decent, the paycheck better than anything else around.
And DeLuca had been recovering from some illness when she was hired—less crime boss, more grumpy patient in silk pajamas. She hadn’t seen much, not at first. But according to the FBI, what she had seen was enough to close the gaps in their investigation. Enough to make her the missing link.
She’d been there for the quiet meetings. The whispered conversations. She hadn’t known what was said behind closed doors, but she’d known who had walked through them. And that was all the Feds had needed to get a conviction.
She’d been so naive. Focused on doing her job and caring for her sister. Occasionally, their mother had made an appearance, and Sam would have to deal with whatever mess she’d brought along with her.
Sam and Bella weren’t going to live like that here in Renegade. Not if Sam could help it.
“Hang in there.” Dean clapped her on the shoulder. “It’ll get better.”
Sam sighed. “I hope so.”
Thirty minutes had passed since they’d pulled in front of the rundown motel, and Butler hadn’t said a word. Which just gave Liam plenty of time to craft the speech he was going to give Sophia later about not vaping and not making friends with the bad crowd.
The silence didn’t bother Liam. He was used to stakeouts, where conversation depended on who he was working with. There was a variety of different types of people. It appeared thatButler was the silent type. Was he silent because he was thinking through every possible scenario, or was he just introverted? Liam was certain of one thing: Butler wasn’t the type to crack jokes to lighten the mood. No, that appeared to be Albright, who’d been sharing one-liners since they arrived.
“You know, we’re basically government-funded stalkers,” Albright cracked over the speaker.
Butler grabbed the radio. “Can it and focus.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Albright replied from his spot on Pine Street.
“Is there anything I should know about this area that’s not on the map?” Liam looked out the window and studied the motel.
Ethan continued to watch the motel. “That treed area behind the motel is fifty yards of mud. The rain and snow melt off drains there, and it hardly ever dries out. If we end up back there, you’re gonna lose your shoes. It will be easier to skirt the boundary and catch the guy as he emerges from the other side.”
“Good to know.”
“Also, don’t expect anyone in this neighborhood to help you. These people ain’t seen nothing and don’t know nothing.”
It didn’t surprise Liam. Most people didn’t want to help law enforcement. They’d rather break out their cell phones and record what was going on. Going viral was more important than helping.
“Do we want to send Kennedy knocking? ‘Oops, wrong door’?” Stanton’s voice crackled over the radio.
Liam responded. “I was thinking the same thing. Get eyes on him and speed up the identification.”
“Not right now,” Butler replied. “We don’t want to burn the motel, and this guy is armed and dangerous.”
“So send me,” Liam said to Ethan directly. “No one knows who I am.”
Before Ethan could shoot down that idea, the door to the room they were watching opened, and a man stepped out. He jogged to an old beat-up car and opened the back door.
Ethan lifted the radio to his lips. “Positive ID. Vickers is in room twenty-four. Hold your positions.”
Liam watched Vickers rummage around in the back seat of the car before returning to the room.
“Did anyone see inside? Is he alone?” Albright asked.
“I can’t tell from this angle,” Butler said.
