Breakwater (Cold Ridge/U.S. Marshals #5)

Lubec clearly wasn’t entirely convinced by her performance. “Who knows about you?”


“No one. I’ve been more subtle than that. I’ve covered my tracks. You want to know what I know, don’t you?” She narrowed her eyes on him and went still deep inside herself. “Then take me to Oliver Crawford. I tried to get to him at the party this afternoon, but I was interrupted. I’ve spent a lot of time and exerted a great deal of effort to lay the proper groundwork.”

“You’re one of us, huh?” Lubec pointed his rifle at her. “I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t care what you believe or don’t believe. You’re not going to kill me when you don’t know for certain whose side I’m on and whether or not I have information you need. And you’re not going to complicate our situation by killing Steve right now.”

Lubec rifle-butted him in the head and the gut, sending him down in a heap, and turned to Quinn, even as she pushed back her revulsion. “Let’s go.”



Vern Glover couldn’t stop moving. Huck kept up with him on the walkway to the converted barn. Glover had rattled the steering wheel all the way back from Quinn’s cottage, and now he was moving fast, agitated, on some kind of adrenaline rush. The party-goers and caterers had left Breakwater, an almost strange silence overtaking the sprawling property.

“Something’s going down, Vern,” Huck said. “I’m not stupid. I can tell. I want in.”

Vern shook his head, not slackening his pace. “It’s crazy. It’s too much, too soon.”

“What is, Vern?”

“Lubec licks Crawford’s boots. The guy’s rich, but he’s reckless-half-crazy.” Breaking his stride slightly, Glover glared at Huck. “Quote me, and I’ll kill you.”

“I don’t like recklessness. That’s what gets people killed.” Huck kept his tone calm, focused, knowing Vern would respond to self-control. “What about the Riccardis?”

“ Sharon ’s trying to run damage control. Joe, he’s in the dark. Like you.”

“I don’t want to stay in the dark. Can you get me in?”

Vern took a sharp breath. “I don’t know, Boone. I don’t trust anyone. The feds grabbed my best buddy right from under my nose. Some undercover fed fuck.”

At your service, Huck thought. “The feds don’t play by the rules. Any of them.”

“That girl who drowned was one of them.”

“A federal agent? I thought she was a lawyer-”

“I wasn’t here for a lot of what went on. Lubec says she played on Crawford’s insecurities after the kidnapping. He trusted her, and she betrayed him.” Vern hissed through his teeth. “She had pictures.”

Vern obviously wanted to talk, maybe just to keep his mind off whatever was bothering him. At the same time, his instincts would tell him to shut up if Huck pushed too hard. He stayed casual. “Pictures of what?”

“Some weapons we brought through here. Stuff the government doesn’t want us to have.”

“Such as?”

“Things that go boom.”

Huck could see himself reporting that one to the task force. “Where did the stuff end up?”

He’d gone too far. Glover gave him a sharp look. “I don’t know. I don’t ask questions. Neither should you.” They came to the back door of the converted barn. Vern opened it, pausing a half beat. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Harlowe. She get you fired up to ask all these questions?”

“She’s just upset about her friend.”

“She fancies herself an expert in international crime-”

Huck shrugged. “Not much of an expert, if you ask me. At least she’s pretty.” He followed Vern inside. “Come on, Glover. What gives? You’re like a worm in hot ashes.”

Vern relaxed marginally. “The feds are still investigating Crawford’s kidnapping and rescue. In my opinion, we should have bided our time a few more months. Let things cool off before we launched a big operation.”

“You used the past tense, Vern. Something’s going down. I want to know what.”

“Yeah, well, too bad. Not my call.” He got out the keys to his room. “I don’t make the decisions around here. I just do what I’m told. I saw what happened last fall when some of our guys got ahead of themselves.”

“Juliet Longstreet’s and Ethan Brooker’s vigilantes. They had a set of principles they believed in and were willing to die for. They took risks.”

Vern shook his head. “They were good guys, but they were reckless. They went too far. They exposed the movement to even more federal scrutiny.” He walked down the hall to his room, sticking his key in the door. “I’m afraid Crawford’s doing the same thing.”

Huck followed him into the neat, dorm-style room. “Vern, talk to me, okay? I can help.”

“Crawford was on the periphery of the movement until he was kidnapped. It goosed him into serious action.” Vern opened his closet door and pulled out a gun box, setting it on his bed. “I don’t know the whole story behind the kidnapping. I wasn’t a part of that deal. Sharon Riccardi and Lubec were.”

“Nick Rochester?”