“Yeah, I got it.” Dell glanced across the room to the huge whiteboard where they posted photographs and other data on the hierarchy of the various crime families. What had once been a simple genealogy with one dominant ruling crime faction now looked like an array of stars circling a sun. The smaller constellations weren’t splinter groups, but new gangs moving in. La Mara was one, but only a few photos with names underneath were arranged in that constellation. No clear leader had been identified.

“So how do we figure who’s who?”

“You tell me.” Sloan’s eyes glinted.

“We need someone inside, but infiltrating a gang takes a long time.”

“Or?”

“We turn someone already inside.”

Sloan nodded. “Exactly. I’ve set up a capture net to monitor any busts involving anyone from the hot zones, anyone associated with anyone from those areas, anyone who we might be able to leverage into giving us intelligence.”

“You know,” Dell said, “if we could get to someone like that, we could use them to get one of our people inside. Save us a lot of time.”

“You got anybody in mind?” Sloan grinned.

Dell ran her hand over her chest and rested her fingertips just above her belt line. She hadn’t been undercover for a while. After things got really hot with the Zamoras, Mitch had to disappear for a while. She missed him. “Yeah. I know just the guy.”

*

Provincetown

Flynn retched, her stomach empty, nausea rolling through her like an oily tide. Gravel bit into her cheek, burning the abraded skin. She blinked dirt from her eyes and rolled onto her belly, trying to get her hands and knees underneath her. She was so weak she couldn’t push herself up. If she could just get a breath, just one short breath, she could get to her feet, she could find Mica, she could tear that bastard apart for putting his hands on her.

Screams filled the alley.

Oh God, not Mica. Please, please don’t let her be hurt.

The screaming trailed off into a steady wail, reverberating inside her head. Her lungs expanded sharply and cool salty air burst down her throat. She sucked in a lungful, coughed, sucked in more, and managed to push to her knees.

Siren. Not screaming. A siren.

“Mica?” Her voice was barely a croak.

A bright light hit her in the face and she raised her arm, trying to shield her tearing eyes.

“Hands in the air,” someone shouted.

Flynn raised her other arm. “Mica,” she gasped. “A guy…took Mica.”

“Flynn?”

Flynn couldn’t see through the glare, but she recognized Bri’s voice. Dark shapes raced by at the edges of Flynn’s vision. “Bri, somebody’s got Mica.” Fear gripped her throat so hard she couldn’t get the rest of the words out. She shoved upright and staggered, nearly going down again. “He’s got—”

“Hey, take it easy.” Bri’s arm came around Flynn’s waist. “Let’s get you over here where you can sit down.”

“No.” Flynn tried to pull away. “Mica.” She scrubbed her eyes and saw swaths of light cutting through the dark near the beach. Flashlights.

“Got something,” someone yelled.

Flynn’s heart stilled in her chest and she managed to break Bri’s grip.

“Stay here, Flynn,” Bri ordered, a command edge in her voice. “More backup’s on the way.”

“I need to find her. If she’s hurt—”

“If she’s hurt, we’ll take care of her.”

Flynn couldn’t just wait. Mica was out there in the dark, maybe hurt, maybe dying. Life ended so quickly, without warning, without rhyme or reason or logic. Life’s plan wasn’t meant to be understood. Flynn knew that, but she’d never been able to accept it. She couldn’t accept it when Debbie had done the unthinkable, and she couldn’t accept it now. If she could have found peace with God’s wisdom, she’d still be wearing her collar. She yanked away from Bri. “I’m not leaving her out there alone.”

“Sorry, Flynn, but you need to stay out of the way.” Bri waved to a sandy-haired officer. “Smith, keep an eye on her until the EMTs come.”

Two figures stumbled out of the darkness into the flickering blue light that bathed the alley.

A uniformed officer called, “Need a medic.”

A second, raspy voice cut through the jumble of voices. “Get your hands off me. Where’s Flynn?”

Mica. The fist of terror crushing Flynn’s chest eased. Mica sounded royally pissed off. She’d never heard anything sweeter. “Mica? Mica!”

“Flynn!”

Flynn ran toward the sound and Mica broke free, stumbling toward her. Flynn braced herself and Mica crashed into her arms. Pain raged through her chest, but she wrapped her arms around Mica and held her close. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” Mica’s hands flew over Flynn, tracing her shoulders, her chest, her sides. “Did that motherfucker stick you?”

“I’m okay.” Flynn winced when Mica squeezed her right side.

“Like hell you are.” Mica searched the faces of the officers milling about, her arm around Flynn’s waist. “Yo, you guys! Over here. She’s the one who needs a medic. I think her ribs are broken.”

Bri stepped out of the crowd. “You’re both going to the clinic. Once you’ve been seen to, I’ll get your statements.”

Another cruiser screeched to a halt in the street, a door slammed, and Reese Conlon strode down the alley. She took one look at Flynn and Mica, then turned to Bri. “Do we have the assailant?”

“Negative,” Bri said. “We were here maybe a minute or two tops after this all went down. A civilian walking by heard someone yell for police and hit nine-one-one. We were ten-seven at the Wired Puppy. Two seconds sooner and we would’ve had him.”

Reese’s cool gaze slid over Mica and Flynn. “Looks like you got here in time.”

More sirens, the crackle of radios, and the alley quickly filled with paramedics and more officers. EMTs from the night crew pushed a gurney toward Flynn and Mica.

“Who’s first?” a short muscular blonde asked, staring at Flynn in concern. “God, Flynn, are you all right?”

“Yeah. I’ll walk, Chris,” Flynn said.

“Like hell you will.” Mica pointed at the EMT. “Her ribs are broken. She needs to ride.”

“You heard the lady, Flynn,” Chris said, taking Flynn’s arm and leading her to the stretcher. “No use fighting us all.”

Flynn gave in. Her legs were about to give out. When she tried to lie back, pain shot through her chest and she felt something pop. She groaned.

“What is it?” Mica said sharply. “Where are you hurting?”

“I think the cartilage is separated,” Flynn said, gritting her teeth. “It hurts like hell but the ribs aren’t broken.” She raised her hand and Mica took it. Mica’s knuckles were scraped and bloody. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Mica said her expression closing down. “I’m just great.”

“You’ve got blood on your shirt,” Flynn said gently, her stomach twisting.

“Yeah.” Mica glanced down as she walked along beside the stretcher. “It’s not mine, though. Asshole had a switch. Now he doesn’t.”

Chapter Sixteen

Allie awoke disoriented, unsure if it was morning or night. The buzz of her cell phone vibrating on the bedside table reminded her of a swarm of angry wasps, and she resisted the urge to slap at the air. She searched in the dark for a touchstone and found it in Ash’s warm body pressed against her back. In an instant she remembered climaxing with Ash inside her, falling asleep with Ash in her arms. She knew where she was, who she was, and she groped for her phone. “Tremont.”

“Hey,” Bri said. “Sorry to get you up, but I thought you’d want to know someone jumped Flynn and another girl tonight.”

“Is Flynn all right?” Allie pushed up in bed and Ash, waking instantly, wrapped an arm around her waist. “What happened?”

“Not sure yet. We’re on the way to the clinic right now.”

“The girl…Hispanic, early twenties, about five-seven, black hair, brown eyes?”

“Sounds right. That the one?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Roger that.”

Allie disconnected and shoved the covers aside. “I have to go in. Sorry.”

Ash clicked on the lamp on her side of the bed. “What’s going on?”

“That was Bri. Flynn and Mica—the woman I told you about—were assaulted. That’s all I know.” Allie grabbed a pair of jeans off the shelf in the closet. Her hands were shaking.

“How bad?”

“I don’t know. Damn it. I knew something was going on. Tell me this is a coincidence.” Allie yanked a shirt off a hanger. “If I’d questioned her the way I wanted to instead of waiting for the damn computer checks, I might have—”

“Hey.” Ash’s hands came down on Allie’s shoulders, and she drew Allie back against her chest. Ash kissed her temple. “Facts first, right?”

Allie took a breath and gave herself a second to let Ash’s calm strength settle her. She didn’t usually get emotional where work was concerned. If Ash was hurt, yeah, her world tilted. Flynn was a friend—okay, a little more than a friend; the exact definition escaped her—but that still didn’t explain why she felt so guilty. “I feel like this is my fault, somehow. Like I should know what’s going on and I don’t.”

“Babe,” Ash murmured, turning Allie to face her. “You’re doing all you can do. Go find out what’s going on and take it from there. You’re a good cop. Better than you should be for someone your age.”

Allie laughed and slugged Ash softly in the shoulder with her fist. “Don’t go pulling that older and wiser crap on me.”

Ash grinned. “Well, as soon as you get your temper up, you start thinking more clearly.”

Allie kissed Ash hard on the mouth. First she’d make sure Flynn was all right, then she’d find out who Mica really was, and she wouldn’t stop digging until she had the answers she wanted. “I love you.”

“Same here. Take it easy out there, okay?”