Deep Undercover. Lenora Worth

woman who died in that explosion worked with my grandmother at a nearby hospital. I knew her, Bree. Helen Proctor. She lived in Williamsburg all of her life and most of that time in the apartment she shared with her husband before he died. She was good to me when my grandmother got sick and...after she passed away.” Twisting his napkin, he added, “I knew she lived there but...but I couldn’t believe it when they brought her out in a body bag.”

      And right after that, Jordan Jameson had died and Gavin had been put through the wringer as a possible suspect. No wonder he seemed to have a big chip on his shoulder.

      More like the weight of the world.

      “I’m sorry, Gavin. So sorry.” Brianne’s heart burned with understanding. She’d heard Gavin’s grandmother had raised him after his mother left him as an infant. She didn’t bring up any of that, though. “So this is personal for you?”

      “Very,” he admitted. “At the time, Jordan knew about my connection to Helen, so I asked if I could investigate the alleged bombing on the side, on my own time if needed.”

      “And he agreed to that?”

      “He did after I explained—Helen Proctor didn’t deserve to die that way. He knew, Noah knows and now you. I’d like to keep it that way. No one else, okay?”

      “Okay.” She could see how much this meant to him. But how far would he be willing to go?

      “So the chief went along with your plan?”

      “He told me to be careful. Jordan and I go way back, but we had a falling out when we were in the academy together and later, as everyone knows, I resented him getting promoted. I think he initially gave the go-ahead to this because we both felt bad about what happened—a stupid fight over a training episode. Just too stubborn to apologize.”

      Brianne could now see why Gavin seemed so solemn at times. She wanted to hear more about what had happened between them, but she’d save that for another time. “You feel guilty about that?”

      “Of course I do.” Shrugging, he said, “Then I got put on the suspect list regarding his murder. That stung, you know. I wish I’d kept my opinions to myself, but I understand how my complaining looked bad.”

      “We all know you wouldn’t kill Jordan, Gavin. And we have proof that you didn’t. I read the report. You worked a swanky fund-raiser in Midtown and both the commissioner and the mayor saw you there. Then you arrived home around midnight and your roommate said you guys talked for an hour and both went to bed. Your vehicle never left your yard until after nine that morning, according to the traffic cameras in the area.”

      “You read the report?”

      “Of course I did. Jordan was last seen at six a.m. But I didn’t have to read a report to know the truth.”

      He shot her a look that held appreciation and admiration. And something else she couldn’t read. “Thank you, Bree.”

      She nodded and took a long sip of coffee.

      “So now you’re on this quest for two reasons—you knew a woman who died at the hands of this possible bomber and...you owe it to Jordan and now the new chief, his brother Noah, to show your true merit?”

      He studied her, probably looking for a judgmental frown. When she didn’t give him one, he nodded. “Yes, I guess that’s it in a nutshell. This is important to me.”

      Brianne leaned forward. “So you’re after the Tick. What’s the plan?”

      “Well, I’m after him, but I’m also after the people who’ve hired him. This is a classic case of intimidation. Mafia-style.” Glancing around, he made sure they were alone. “After comparing a couple of random explosions around Manhattan, I’ve been discreetly asking questions, talking to wealthy investors, stuff like that. We’re talking seven figures or more—a lot of money. If someone is sabotaging developers and property owners by bombing buildings so they can step in and take over, it could only get worse from here.”

      Confused and needing to know the bottom line, she asked, “But Gavin, you’re a K-9 cop. You’re usually not involved in the investigative part. I can’t believe the department agreed to this.”

      His expression went from hopeful to disappointed in a flash. “I’d been doing this on the side, on my own time, after I got a tip from Beanpole. But I kept Jordy up-to-date.” Sighing, he added, “After Jordy went missing and was found dead, I went to Noah to get permission to continue working on this case. You know the rest. This had to be put on hold. We all want to find Jordy’s killer. That’s top priority for the precinct.”

      “But you’re still working on this, too, clearly.”

      He nodded and then stared out into the street. “I’m not hiding it from Noah or anyone else. In fact, I think they’re all glad I’ve got something else to occupy me. Even though I’ve been cleared of any suspicion in Jordy’s death, I can’t shake the doubters who still aren’t sure.”

      Beginning to understand, she said, “But if you solve this case, you’d look better in everyone’s eyes, right?”

      “I hope so. Bree, I didn’t always get along with Jordy but...I respected him. He was a good cop and a good leader. I need this—not only because of that, but because this man is getting bolder with each bomb. He has to be stopped.”

      Brianne didn’t know what to say. Good officers knew working without backup was never the best plan. Glad he’d been upfront with the chief, she said, “You shouldn’t go it alone. Have you talked to the FBI and Homeland Security any more?”

      “They’ve been informed. Those in charge know Tommy and I are good at what we do. As long as I don’t interfere in their cases, I’m clear. I have to report back, of course. Besides, I’m not technically undercover. I’ve just trying to build a solid case—on my own time and in my own way.”

      “This is an unusual situation,” she said. “I know a lot of detectives who are deep undercover. They give up everything to do their jobs.”

      “Yes, but my job is bomb detection and...I can’t let this one go. Tommy found something at that site, and I think he recognized that man yesterday after Stella alerted. I took this on because my gut tells me this man is so close. And based on Beanpole’s vague description of him, I think that could have been him. I haven’t figured out why he’d bomb the park, but it could have been a distraction. I can’t talk to anyone much about it per Noah’s orders, but the NYPD is well aware of the situation and they’ve got people on it, too. I thought I could trust you, though, since you were there.”

      “And then you got this wild idea that we could both work this case, possibly undercover as husband and wife?”

      “Something like that. It’s stupid, I know. But...I need evidence, and most of the detectives I know are swamped and all in on their own cases.” He took a sip of coffee. “As you know, I rent out a room in the house in Valley Stream I inherited from my Granny Irene. My roommate’s so deep undercover, I get rent money from a PO box and I haven’t seen him since he vouched for me three months ago—right before he started this new case.”

      A streak of lightning made a jagged dance over the skyscrapers and then a roar of thunder shook the sky. The flowers in the dish gardens bent in the brisk wind.

      “We’d better get inside,” he said, his tone gruff now.

      Brianne stood. “I want to hear more,” she said. “All of it. Then I’ll decide.”

      “Forget I mentioned it.”

      She slanted her eyebrow up. “Oh, no. This conversation is not over.”

      The lightning flashed again. Brianne turned away from the street to give Stella a command so they could move inside.

      Before she could get to the door, the rain started coming down. Gavin glanced at an approaching SUV and then back at her, his eyes filling with apprehension.

      In