Page 73 of Three Steps Behind

“Oh, I’m okay, really.”

“Hang on.” He stood. “I’ll be right back.”

She remained seated, her gaze casting over the staff, tugging her thoughts from the hidden room to the one she sat in. There had to be a handful of new girls. However, all the busboys and sous chefs remained the same—at least those she could see through the open kitchen, all decked out with gourmet appliances, a gorgeous marble workstation, and everything in its proper place. So why the female turnover?

Pain shot through her gut as if she’d been hit. What if this was where they sold off the women? What if they were the underground menu, and the men at the tables were buyers?

Oh no. Please don’t toss your cookies. Taking a stick of fresh and warm focaccia bread out of the basket, she took a nibble and then another. Finally, her stomach settled, but the question remained. Hopefully, Tom and Aubry were picking up on her questions, bringing the same horrid theory to mind.

Aubry paced the small interior of the van, situated around the corner from Spatina. They’d been in there for hours. How long did a six-course meal take?

“Dude, chill,” Tom said. “We’re getting it all.”

For some unexplained reason, Aubry was far more concerned with Bristol’s safety than the information they were receiving warranted.

“She’s doing well,” Tom added, holding the over-the-head headphones up to one ear, jotting down notes as things came in.

“Keep it on the speakers,” Aubry said.

“You got it, boss.” Tom pulled out the headphone jack, and the sounds of a bustling restaurant rang over it.

“Maybe turn it down a little,” he instructed and then grabbed a rolling stool and took a seat beside Tom.

“Miquel has a more secluded place ready for us,” Dalton said. “Just come with me.”

“Oh, that wasn’t necessary. I’m perfectly fine here.”

Aubry winced at the discomfort in her voice. He needed to build her up. She could play the best of them. She just needed to treat this like any other con, though it was a far deeper and deadlier one. He wanted her out of there. No sooner had he sat, than he was back up, pacing the van.

Tom looked back at him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a thing for the informant, sir.”

Tom was a good agent. Green, but good. But he still had a lot to learn about being in the field.

Aubry prayed that wouldn’t be a detriment to them. As long as he kept an eye on him . . . but he wanted his full attention on the lady. And was he that obvious with his attraction to her? Of course, she was stunning, but it was her that captivated his interest—as wrong as that was, given their current parameters.

“Back this way,” Miquel Torres said. Bristol’s heels tapped on the wooden floor.

Where were they headed?

“Here you two go,” Miquel said with enthusiasm.

“Dessert in your office,” she said. “How private. How lovely.”

“Now, that’s a place I’d love to search,” Tom said between chews of his gum.

Aubry just prayed Bristol didn’t try. Too high a chance she’d get caught. If only they’d given her another bug to plant in the office, then they could hear all of Miquel’s calls. They’d have to arrange that somehow. The only problem was the danger of her heading back in. A danger that didn’t sit well with him. If he caught her, Dalton would kill her without compunction.

Twenty-Nine

“PLEASE,” JOEL SAID, gesturing to the two chairs opposite his desk as they entered the sheriff’s office.

Deck pulled out one for Harper, and she sank into it. He wanted to assure her again that they’d get him—that Nick would be behind bars not long after this conversation—but he knew only too well how the law worked and, sadly, how it could be manipulated, like his parents had done. Or maneuvered to suit one’s pursuits, like their sister Bristol did. He held a confident attitude for Harper and prayed he was wrong about his concerns.

Bristol. He exhaled. They’d been close as kids—the two oldest—but she’d followed right in their parents’ footsteps. With the exception that she appeared to be working under her own code or moral compass—askew as it was. Regardless, it broke his heart. He prayed daily that God would wrangle Bristol into His love. Because it would take a miracle to bring her to that point.

Joel rested his forearms on his desk. “What can I help you fine folks with?”

“I’ll be direct.” Deck propped one booted foot over his opposite knee.