Dream Keeper (Dream Team 4)

More nods because it had been months, and nothing from B, no information, no sightings, she was gone.

She had a tendency to dip in and out of the scene as it suited her.

But they weren’t thinking good thoughts at this disappearance.

Either she wised up and got out of Denver.

Or someone took her out.

“And since all that, even with a close eye on Lynn and Heidi, and aware of what these assholes intend to hit, that being going after valuable evidence in the police impound, just not when or who might hit it,” Hawk continued, “there’s been nothing.”

Lynn was Lynn Crowley—the widow of the cop who got dead investigating the dirt that their team had spent months trying to uncover, with no result. The hit on her husband, Tony, had been what Cisco had been framed and later cleared for. It was their entry to this sitch, since Evie’s family had dragged her into that.

Heidi was Heidi Mueller—the widow of one of only two cops they’d ferreted out as dirty in this mess. Her husband, Lance, had in turn been framed for not only Tony’s murder, but also for a murder-suicide that would have been impossible for him to commit, considering how zoned out he was on a date-rape drug he’d been slipped.

The fact Lance Mueller had been roofied had been reported to Hawk’s crew, but entirely left out of the official autopsy report.

Both women were under their team’s surveillance as well as their protection.

But even if someone had been dicking around with Lynn prior to B’s message that those in play were standing down, it was too hot, they were hands up, surrendering, neither woman had had any issue since they’d reluctantly come forward, willing to help.

“But we have something,” Hawk stated.

Every man in that room sat straighter.

Hawk didn’t elucidate.

At least, he didn’t right then.

He said, “Mo, Aug, Mag, I got somewhere to be, and I want you with me. Billy, you hit up Jorge and then look into Bottoms. Boone, Axl, stay on normal duties. We’ll brief again later.” Hawk looked at his watch, then his eyes landed on Mo, Auggie and Mag briefly before he finished, “We’re heading out now. Aug, you’re in the Camaro with me. Mo, you and Mag take a shade. I’ll give you the address and my route. I want you approaching from a different direction. And be absolutely certain you’re not tailed.”

That didn’t sound like they had something.

That sounded like they had something interesting.

They referred to the vehicles they used when they didn’t want to be spotted as “shades.” They were usually nondescript, but top of the line of their model so they had power under their hoods and maneuverability, just in case.

Hawk switched them out randomly, selling old and buying new (though those “new” could be used). And Aug had noticed they’d never had a shade longer than six months.

Hawk ended the meeting, convened with Mo to discuss approaches, they geared up with sidearms and then they moved out.

The trip to where they were going was not filled with conversation.

But what little was said was important.

The entirety of it included, from Hawk, “You and Pepper trying things?”

From Aug, “Yeah.”

From Hawk, “Going okay?”

From Aug, “Great.”

From Hawk, after a small pause, “Good.”

From Aug, “Juno wants me to help with the sets for her school’s Thanksgiving thing. I don’t know the schedule, but I might need free evenings.”

From Hawk, “You’ll get ’em.”

There was another pause, and then from Hawk, “I know you all know I dicked around and nearly lost Gwen because of past history.”

He did know, so Aug grunted, “Yeah.”

“Don’t get caught in history, Auggie. Don’t waste time,” Hawk advised, mostly because he knew things too. Everything about all his men. And he gave more than a passing shit. “You can’t get time back. And trust me, you never want to be at a place where you regret you pissed it away.”

“I didn’t grow up—” Aug began.

“I hate that was what you had,” Hawk cut him off. “I cannot express how much. But that’s history, Auggie.”

Aug shut up.

Because it was.

This was now. A different time. Different people.

And he needed to guard against letting something dark that he’d had no control over break something bright that was within his grasp.

Hawk said no more.

Auggie didn’t either.

Then again, when they got closer to where they were headed, Auggie got his head in the game and kept his attention on where they were and if someone was following them.

He didn’t like the zone they were in. It wasn’t a good part of Denver.

And when Hawk parked, and they hoofed it on foot the five blocks from where they left Hawk’s Camaro to where this meet was happening, he didn’t like the feel of the place.

But most of all, he didn’t like the fact that Ian’s black Mercedes GLC SUV was parked outside of it.