“No cell phone reception,” he said. “And once I’m on the train, I’m on my own.”

Julie held up the train schedule she’d been studying. “That train is an express to Queens. That means no stops for at least fifteen minutes.”

“But you can take a gun, right? They can’t check you closely in the middle of the subway.”

“Unless they’ve found a way around that.”

“We’re here,” Blake said, hurrying back into the room with Hendrix by his side.

“That train is an express to Queens,” Jesse said.

“We just figured that out,” Luke said.

“So someone needs to be on the train when it arrives. Someone they won’t recognize.”

“They don’t know me,” Hendrix said, sitting down on the couch. “I’ll do it. I’ll head there now.”

“I’ll go with him,” Jesse chimed in.

“I’ll tail Luke in case they try to get to him before he gets to the subway,” Blake said and glanced at Luke. “I’ll go get a uniform of guns and knives on, and meet you in the garage in five minutes?”

Luke gave a nod. “That works.” His attention went to Julie and when Blake exited the apartment, she darted towards him and hugged him.

“I have a really bad feeling about this,” she said. “Don’t you dare get killed, you hear me?”

“Sweetheart,” he said, softly. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

“You better.” And once again, she found herself thinking that she’d only just found Luke again. She couldn’t lose him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Julie sat in the kitchen of Luke’s apartment finishing off a pint of ice cream from his freezer because what else did a girl do when worried senseless but eat ice cream? But now it was gone, and she was still a wreck, so she thought the only other logical thing to do was to go back to her pacing in front of the fireplace.

She tossed the empty pint and was headed that way when she heard what sounded like the ring tone for Blake’s cell. Sure enough, there it was. She frowned. This was so not like him, and so not well timed.

She grabbed the phone and answered, afraid someone on the team was looking for him. Immediately, a man with a heavy French accent said, “Call me the minute you have the journal. Do not fail me, or you will be a dead Dragonfly.”

The line went dead. She looked at the phone and flipped through the numbers. It wasn’t Blake’s phone at all. It belonged to Hendrix.

Julie couldn’t breathe. Her hand went to her chest. She dialed Blake. No answer. She dialed Luke. No answer. She dialed Jesse. No answer. They were all in the tunnels. Finally, Royce answered. “Hendrix is Dragonfly. I can’t reach anyone to tell them.” She quickly told him what happened.

“Keep trying to call them,” he said, “and I will too. I’m stuck on the ferry.”

Julie hung up and kept dialing over and over. No answer from anyone. She had to warn Luke. She ran for her purse and headed for the door.

***

The Flamingo Hotel was yet another dingy dive of a place that fed drugs, prostitution, and other sordid habits. Alone in the room she was given, Gina sat on the edge of a bumpy bed with an ugly orange bedspread, pondered how well Marco knew the people at the front desk. They had treated him as if he was their boss or something.

Gina wasn’t sure what it was about Marco that made her want to please him so, but she did. Perhaps it was simply his exceptional body and phenomenal skill as a lover.

Then again, there was a distinct possibility it was their mutual love of money that intrigued her. The ruthless way his mind worked was downright evil, giving him a dangerously alluring air that clung to him like a well fitted suit.

It was downright sexy.

Tonight’s agenda was brilliant. She’d told the judge she didn’t have the journal so she’d make it up to him until she did. She couldn’t wait to see the judge’s face when ... A knock sounded on the door, drawing her attention.

“Time for the show,” she whispered with anticipation dancing through every fiber of her body.

Stopping at the broken mirror that sat on top of the scuffed white dresser, she smiled at her image. Dressed in a fire engine red lingerie set complete with garters, a tiny lacy bra, barely-there panties, and spiked heels, she was deliciously ready for action.

The knock on the door sounded again. “Anxious,” she said with one last look in the mirror as a devilish smile tilted up her painted red lips.

Sashaying to the door she opened it and leaned on the wall in a sexy come-hither way that displayed her body. “Evening, Judge.”

Judge Moore gave her a heavy-lidded, slow perusal. When he was finished, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her as he maneuvered them both into the room and pushed the door shut.

“You look good enough to eat,” he said as he spread his hands around the bare cheeks of her backside and pressed her against the hardness of his body.

“Slow down, baby. Tonight, we’re going to play a little game.” She pushed out of his arms.

The judge started unbuttoning his shirt. “I like games.”

“Good,” Gina said smiling seductively. “You have to promise to follow my rules. Tonight, I’m in charge.” Gina walked up to him and pressed her palm against his bulging zipper. “You’ll be rewarded for good behavior.”