In five minutes this could all be over with. And a lot of innocent people could be dead.

Spence motioned for her to stay put, indicating he was going around to the other side. He wanted her to supply backup. She nodded and stayed in position while he crawled behind her and around the back of the bridge. Now they had coverage on all sides except the front where DeLaud and his men stood, and where the drug shipment was being unloaded.

She hated doing nothing but watching, especially since the security guards were in danger. She knew what was going to happen to them—they were no doubt going to be either killed or tossed overboard once the boat holding the drugs left port, so there’d be no witnesses. Shadoe couldn’t let that happen. And sitting around here waiting for the Feds to arrive made her crazy. Every second that ticked by wasted time, and could possibly cost those men their lives.

She took a few steps back, intent on finding Spence and hatching out a quick plan to rush DeLaud and the others, but she was swallowed up by arms across her and a hand around her mouth.

“What the hell are you doing here, Desi?”

Lance.

Where had he come from? She tensed, struggled, unwilling to let him overpower her. She couldn’t stay silent, couldn’t let this happen. A rush of adrenaline made her flush hot, break out in a sweat. She pushed against him but he held tight to her.

Unfortunately, their fight caught the attention of DeLaud and his men.

“What’s going on over here?” DeLaud and two of his men ran over to the side and saw Shadoe fighting off Lance. DeLaud pulled a gun and aimed it in their direction.

“Desi? What are you doing here?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Lance said, grunting with the effort to hold her still. “Desi, stop struggling.”

She bit down on Lance’s hand covering her mouth. With a loud curse he released his hold over her mouth.

She knew she was in deep shit when DeLaud raised the gun and pointed it at her. She was expendable, nothing to him. A rush of panic overcame her and she fought to remember her training. She jammed an elbow in Lance’s ribs and ducked down as soon as Lance let go of her. DeLaud fired and Lance went down, giving her a split second to pull her own gun and fire at DeLaud.

Then all hell broke loose. DeLaud grabbed his middle and dropped to his knees. Spence came flying over the top of the bridge and landed on top of DeLaud’s men. AJ and Pax came around the other side at the same time Shadoe regained her momentum and stood, running around the corner. She took out two of the men; AJ and Pax took four.

The Feds came in around the same time, high-powered rifles drawn and bullhorns announcing that they were Federal agents. In both English and Spanish they gave the order to drop weapons. She heard them below so she was sure—or hoped—that they’d gotten the drop on the men in the boat.

DeLaud’s men surrendered, dropped their guns, and hit the ground. Shadoe pointed the barrel of her gun to the floor, kept her finger on the trigger, and carefully approached DeLaud, who lay facedown on the deck. She kicked his gun out of his reach, bent down, and checked his pulse.

Still alive.

“We need an ambulance here,” she shouted. “This is our prime suspect and he’s still breathing but he’s bleeding bad.” She turned him over and saw a field of red spouting from his side. “See if there’s a first-aid kit on the bridge,” she said to AJ, who nodded and ran off, coming back a few seconds later with one.

She grabbed a handful of bandages and pressed them on the wound to stop the bleeding.

“Lance is dead,” Spence said, coming over to kneel at her side.

She grimaced, wishing that hadn’t happened. She wanted to know how deeply he had been involved with DeLaud, and now they’d never be able to find out. But at least they knew who the inside person at the club was.

Strange that Lance had shown up so late for this transaction, or at all. So much she didn’t understand.

“Are you all right?”

She looked up, nodded at Spence. “It went down so fast.”

He rubbed her back. “It always does. No time to think, only react. You did good.”

“I’m shaking.”

He grinned. “That’s normal.”

“I might want to throw up later.”

He laughed then. “That’s normal, too.”

“I still don’t understand the whole connection to the Wild Rose,” Shadoe said.

“My guess is they used the club as a distribution point for the drugs. That’s how Lance was connected.”

“Which means the Feds will need to do a little more investigating on the distribution end of the deal.”

“Yeah.”

But at least they’d figured out who the rogue agent was, and who was working the inside at the Wild Rose. “I need to go talk to the Fed in charge.”

She nodded. “I’m going to stay here with DeLaud until the ambulance arrives. I want him to live.”

Spence arched a brow. “Care that much for him, do you?”

She snorted. “I want him to live long enough to tell us what we want to know, then go to prison. He can die there, not tonight.”

“Good thinking.” Spence stood and moved off to find the DEA agent in charge. The paramedics arrived and took over, leaving Shadoe to stand over them and watch as they stabilized DeLaud, then lifted him onto the gurney and took him to a waiting ambulance. She instructed two agents to follow and provide constant guard over him. She wasn’t going to lose him, just in case someone had the idea to break him out of the hospital.

If he lived.

She blew out a breath, dragged both hands through her hair, and went off to find Spence.

He was busy with the head agent, so she informed AJ she was going to take DeLaud’s car and head back to the club, that she’d notify Lance’s wife of his death. Plus it was time for her to reveal who she was and tell Brandon his feature stripper wasn’t going to be stripping anymore.

She was glad that part was over. She was more than ready to keep her clothes on in the future. She parked in front of the club. It had just closed, so she went to the side door and knocked. Ariele let her in.

“You missed your second show.”

“I know. Where’s Brandon?”

“In his office.”

“Is Cheri still here?”

“Yeah. She’s in the office with Brandon.”

Perfect. Brandon could help her support Cheri when she delivered the bad news. She went through the club and to the other side where Brandon’s office was. The door was closed. She wondered if they were having a meeting about Cheri’s performance, or attitude. Hell, it could be anything. She didn’t want to interrupt, but had no choice. She knocked.

It took a few seconds for Brandon to answer. “What?”

His tone was curt. “It’s . . . Desi.”

“Can it wait?”

“No. It’s urgent.”

She leaned against the wall and waited, then the door opened and Cheri walked out. Her face was flushed and she shot a vicious glare at Shadoe.

“What the f**k do you want? You missed your second show. I hope he fires your ass.”

“Actually, I need to speak to both of you.”

Cheri arched a brow.

“Can you come in here with me?”

“What for?”

“It’s about Lance.” She didn’t wait to explain any more, just stepped into Brandon’s office and figured Cheri would follow.

She did, and Shadoe shut the door behind her.

“What’s this all about, Desi?” Brandon asked.

She didn’t sit, instead stood as Cheri took a seat in the chair across from Brandon’s desk. She’d never done this before—delivered bad news. She didn’t like it, didn’t want to, but she had no choice. “First, my name is Shadoe Grayson and I’m an agent with the Department of Justice.” She showed them her badge and ID.

Cheri’s gaze shot to Brandon, then back to her. “What?”

Brandon just stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“We’ve been monitoring drug shipments coming in from Colombia, and the involvement of a Federal agent. I was sent to work undercover because we suspected the drug deals were somehow connected to the Wild Rose. Our agent was known to be hanging around here. He was using someone with a relationship to the club and the docks as an inside contact, and the drug deal went down tonight. We believe Lance was involved in all this, because he showed up in the midst of the deal.”

“What was Lance doing on the ship?” Brandon asked.

“We have reason to believe he was the inside contact for DeLaud here at the club.”

Cheri’s gaze shot to Brandon’s again, then back at Shadoe. “No. That can’t be. My Lance wouldn’t be involved in . . . drug dealing.” Cheri stood. “Where is he?”

“He was shot during an altercation with DeLaud. I’m very sorry to have to tell you that he didn’t survive.”

Brandon stood. “What?”

Cheri’s eyes widened. “No.” She blinked several times, then crumpled forward in the chair and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, no. Not Lance.”

Brandon came around the desk and stood behind Cheri, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t understand any of this. My club was being used to transport drugs? How could I not know about this?”

“These people are good at covering their tracks. And they had . . .” She looked down at Cheri, who sobbed into her hands. “. . . they had an inside person.”

Cheri began to wail.

“I need to get her out of here,” Brandon said, helping to lift Cheri from the chair. “Come on, honey. Let’s go get you a drink, calm you down, then I’ll take you home.”

Shadoe moved out of their way, feeling helpless. Was it always like this? The grieving ones fell apart and she would be able to do nothing but stand by and apologize? “I’m very sorry for your loss. I’ll just clean out my things and be off. Brandon, a Federal agent will be around probably tomorrow to take a statement from you and from the girls.”

Brandon nodded.

Cheri didn’t uncover her face, instead laid her head against Brandon’s chest and let him lead her from the room. Shadoe followed and went back to the dressing room, cleared out her locker, and loaded her things in her car. She wanted to say good-bye to the other girls, but they’d all taken off. She’d come back tomorrow and do that before they left town and headed back to Dallas.

The mission was over. The rush of adrenaline had passed, the excitement of wrapping up her first case evaporating as fast as a short burst of rain on parched pavement. Her head began to clear as she realized what this meant.

She and Spence would soon part. She’d report back to Washington to file her report on this case, and receive her next assignment. Spence would be off on his next adventure, too.

They were done.

The ache in the pit of her stomach intensified, and she suddenly wanted nothing more than to spend the night with him, to feel his touch, his arms around her, his mouth on hers, and his c**k buried inside her.

How was she ever going to be able to walk away from him?

She slid behind the wheel and reached for the ignition, then paused, looked as the blinking neon light for the Wild Rose was shut off. She leaned back in the seat and pondered.

And pondered some more.

Something clicked. Cheri leaning over the bar to whisper at Brandon. The fierce way he held her wrist. The looks exchanged between them. The flushed look on her face when they were interrupted tonight.

The way she covered her face when she found out about Lance.

Shadoe hadn’t seen any tears. Brandon didn’t seem all that upset about Lance. It had all gone down so fast. They hadn’t asked a lot of questions about the drug dealing or the club’s involvement. He’d wanted to hurry Shadoe out of there.

Why?

And Brandon had asked what Lance had been doing onboard the ship.

Shadoe didn’t recall mentioning everything had gone down on a ship. She was almost certain she hadn’t.

She suddenly had more questions. Maybe it was nothing at all, but after putting the pieces together, some things didn’t fit right. She needed to talk to Brandon and Cheri again. She opened the car door and tried the side door of the Wild Rose.

It was still open, so she went inside and through the dressing room, peering through the windowed doors into the club.

There, sitting at the bar toasting each other with champagne, were Cheri and Brandon.

Smiling, laughing, leaning in to kiss each other.

That was no grieving widow, nor a club owner upset that his club had been used to transport drugs.

She eased one of the doors open just enough to hear what was being said.

“We should send a thank-you note to the Feds for getting Lance out of our way,” Cheri said with a wide grin.

“That’s what he gets for wondering what DeLaud was up to. If he hadn’t been so nosy, trying to make the connection between us and DeLaud, he wouldn’t be dead now.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing my poor dead husband saw a mystery and went to figure it out, isn’t it? He’s the fall guy and we’re in the clear.”

“It couldn’t have worked out better. If they’d traced the drugs back to us, we’d be doing jail time now.”

Cheri nodded, then downed the rest of the champagne and laid her glass on the table. “We have nothing to worry about, baby. Everyone else took the fall. DeLaud and Lance and the guys on the ship. We’re in the clear.”

“But we’ve lost the shipments and all the money.”