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Stay the course.
No one was throwing punches, Bulldog hadn’t fired his weapon. Hank’s pants didn’t reveal that he’d lost bladder control from fright, but she suspected it had been a close call when Rex had shoved his ugly face in hers. Hank was literally sniveling up against the wall, and she threw him a “be quiet” look, but his focus remained locked on Rex.
“Boss, please, listen, we can—”
“Shut him up.” Rex spoke to Bulldog, never breaking eye contact with Dylan. Veronica mentally braced herself to see Hank’s body crumple. Instead, Bulldog snapped his fingers to get Hank’s attention, and when he did, he made a “lock your lips” motion with his fingers. Hank nodded, his face pale, and didn’t say another word.
She had to give Bulldog props—
“My jefe won’t offer this again, Rex.” Dylan spoke smoothly, amiably, giving Rex more details of his offer. As if he and Rex were coffee buddies and not discussing what Veronica estimated was upward of tens of millions of dollars’ worth of illicit substances flowing into every nook and cranny of Stark County. All via one chokepoint: Frisky.
When Rex leaned back in his chair, Veronica had a glimmer of hope. She’d bet the criminal wasn’t conscious of copying Dylan’s exact pose, or that it was a classic move learned in body language 101. Dylan had him. He’d somehow convinced Rex that he was Hawk, that Rex needed him.
“Tell me you’re not working for the feds,” Rex spat out.
Okay, maybe she’d misjudged Rex’s reaction. She tried to not chew her lower lip.
Dylan laughed. “Nice one, Rex. You know as well as I do that of course I have to work with the forces that be. Don’t we all? If you have your trusted agents ask around, they’ll tell you that sure, law enforcement knows who Hawk Masters is.” Dylan paused, leaned forward on his haunches, steepled his hands. He was close enough for Rex to hit him, choke him—
Stop. Stay here. Anxiety rabbit holes weren’t going to get her out of this. Professional skill was.
“Know thy enemy, Rex. You ever heard that? From the suits sitting in the FBI building in Minot to the newest rookie cop in Red Grove, they all know who Hawk Masters is. Or should I say, they know what will happen if they mess with my operations.” He leaned back, then went on to explain in almost boring detail the exact numbers of what he’d accomplished since he’d arrived in North Dakota, including the body counts of LEOs who’d refused to be paid off by him.
Veronica snuck glances at Rex, Bulldog, Hank. They were all homed in on “Hawk” as Dylan threw out a verbal litany of overseas cartel suppliers, the exact locations and frequency of where and when their product came into the United States, and how soon the shipments arrived in North Dakota. Dylan calmly explained that he was but a “middle man” for two different cartel kingpins, one in Mexico and one in Colombia.
She wasn’t certain how much was true, how long Dylan had been so deeply undercover, but even if only a portion of his claims were true, he’d been putting himself in life-threatening situations time and time again.
“It sounds to me as though you’re in the business of corporate takeovers, Mr. Masters.” Rex’s words carried a threatening tone, but his more relaxed body language still revealed that he believed, or at least was willing to go along with, Dylan’s story. No doubt Hawk’s promise of an exponential increase in profits helped convince him.
“I’m a Jack of all trades, Rex. And I’m not interested in any takeovers in North Dakota. Unless you give me reason, I’m here to work with you.”
“You have to give me a day,” Rex spat out.
“No.” Dylan’s reply shook the room in its intensity, and Veronica took a quick breath. This was a side she’d never seen of him—angry, ruthless. Lethal.
“You do not tell Slim. I will know if you do, and not only is the deal off, your entire operation in Stark County will suffer. It will take me less than one week to eliminate your supply chain. Do you want to tell Slim that?”
Bulldog shifted on his feet, moved his hand to his gun, but was stopped by Rex holding up his hand in a classic “stop” gesture. Bulldog lowered his arm.
“Go on.” Rex kept his composure no matter that he’d conceded control to Dylan. For now.
“Slim won’t be happy that you spoke to me. It wouldn’t matter if you told him you were bringing him the world on a platter. That’s why you won’t talk to him until we make Frisky the most profitable game in town, in Stark County, in North Dakota, and then, the entire Upper Midwest, and onto the PNW.” The Pacific Northwest. Veronica’s insides quaked at the thought of that many more victims of the ring’s machinations. So many more Tawnys…
No. Stay present, focused.
“Why would I trust you with this when Slim already has control over everything you just spelled out, plus more? In a year he’ll have control over all of North America.” A tiny flicker of hope lit in her heart at Rex’s words. They sounded rehearsed to her ears, as if this was the mantra Slim’s minions were indoctrinated with. But Rex’s tone had a hint of what she knew could tip the scales in Dylan’s, and her, favor.
Greed.
Veronica held her breath. Was Rex going to agree to work with Hawk? Her and Dylan’s lives depended on it.
Chapter 10
“Rex agreed to your plan, sure, but how do you know he’s not already planning to double-cross us?” Veronica lay next to Dylan on her bed, fully clothed. They’d announced in front of Hank that they were going back to her place for a “catch-up” meeting after Frisky closed, sealing it with Dylan’s salacious glance and her welcoming smile. Hank’s relief at being left alone with a single bouncer to close up the club had been almost comical.
A situationship wasn’t unheard of while undercover but she would have preferred it with a stranger, someone whose every expression and mannerism didn’t transport her mind back to when they’d really been close friends, on the verge of coupledom.
That was all a fantasy. At least for her it had been. Since seeing Dylan again, he’d not given her one sign, one reason to believe that their almost-relationship had been more than work buddies.
