Page 29 of Disavowed

He held his head up, continuing down the aisle, and was escorted all the way outside One PP’s main employee entrance. Without a word, the two IA detectives turned and left him standing there. He glanced over his shoulder at the red brick exterior of One PP. A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed. Then he turned and limped toward his personal vehicle, a blue Explorer parked in the lot reserved for police personnel. Even as he got into his SUV, uniformed officers heading inside police headquarters cast him derisive looks.

Word travels fast.

The SUV’s powerful V-8 engine rumbled as he pulled out of the lot onto the street.

Get a grip, Carew. Time to get to work.

He gunned the Explorer down the street in the direction of his target’s run-down apartment. Background checks he’d conducted from his home office identified Jimmy Gonzalez as living in a tiny apartment in the West Village, and for the next three hours Dom conducted surveillance on the petty drug user.

He watched Gonzalez leave his apartment and walk several blocks to the bodega Smith mentioned. Several minutes later he came out and returned home. Dom suspected the bodega owner or someone who worked there was the junkie’s supplier. He broke off surveillance, then scouted out a tall building opposite the bodega. The rooftop of the building was perfectly located for the hit. But there was no security camera anywhere close enough for his needs.

After pulling over onto a side street, he used his personal cell to call Gray and provide him with the updated information. At the end of the call it was agreed that the behind-the-scenes work would fall solely to Gray.

Exhaustion crept up his spine, and he closed his eyes. What he needed was a shot of adrenaline. Daisy’s smiling face came to him like an angel through the dark mist. For some reason, he wanted to see her. Needed to see her. Not to start something up with her, he couldn’t do that. But her beautiful face, so full of life and energy, was exactly what he needed to get through what was to come.

Cranking the wheel, he headed back onto the street and in the direction of Highland Floral. When the shop came into view he double-parked across the street and half a block down.

A large delivery truck with the Highland Floral logo on the side was parked in front of the store. The driver leaned against the hood of the truck. He couldn’t see the guy’s face, obscured as it was beneath a ball cap in the fading evening light. He was tall, nearly Dom’s height but not quite.

Several minutes later the lights in the shop went out and Daisy exited through the front door. A colorful skirt swirled above and around her knees as she spun and locked the door. The bright pink shirt tied snugly at her waist emphasized her sexy curves.

The driver pushed from the hood of the truck and opened the passenger door. Turning to face him, Daisy smiled and accepted the hand he held out while she got into the truck. Dom narrowed his gaze at the gentlemanly gesture. Something about it wasn’t solely gentlemanly. It was intimate.

After she was seated, the driver carefully shut the door. As he rounded the front of the truck he tugged the ball cap from his head.

Dom bolted upright. He stared in disbelief.

He gripped the Explorer’s steering wheel, willing his ID of the guy to be a mistake. But it wasn’t. It was Jack Schneider.

What the fuck?

His pulse raced, and his body was instantly on red alert.

The truck eased onto the street, and as it drove past him, he shielded his face. He waited for it to get half a block away before ramming the Explorer into gear and whipping it into a U-turn.

He followed at a safe distance, not wanting to tip Schneider off that he had a tail. But he damned sure wasn’t going to let that truck out of his sight. This was too much fucking coincidence, and he wanted answers.

Blood thrummed in his veins as he recalled that last night after dinner Daisy had rushed out the door to catch a ride from one of her employees. Schneider, he now realized, must have been her ride home.

When the truck turned right, he followed, fighting every instinct not to pull the truck over and beat the shit out of Schneider. He gripped the steering wheel tighter.

This is goddamn insane.

Why is a Pyramid assassin making time with his— His what?

Daisy Fowler wasn’t his anything, so this couldn’t be connected to him.

The only people who knew he’d had any connection with her were Gray, Alex, and Cassie. Alex confided in Gray that Daisy hadn’t told another soul about the night they’d slept together. The only other interactions he’d had with her since had been at the hospital when Gray had gotten shot, the Yankee game during which Gray proposed to Alex, and then at the wedding. But any interaction he’d had with Daisy at the wedding would have been expected between the best man and the maid of honor. No, he doubted this had anything to do with him.

Then what the fuck did Schneider want from her?

The truck made a left, heading in the direction of her apartment. He slammed his open hand against the wheel and was rewarded with a shaft of pain that went straight up his forearm to his shoulder.

Think, man, think.

If Schneider really had been Daisy’s ride home last night, then killing her wasn’t on his agenda because she was still alive. And why kill her at all? What would the Pyramid gain from that?

She must be of some use to Schneider, and he’d bet the answers to all those questions tied in to his employment with Highland Floral.