by Jami Gray
Jinx shot him a look and went back to sharing. “According to filed incident reports, he’d just completed a highly classified assignment when he got word that his wife was killed in a bungled burglary while his toddler son was upstairs in bed.” She turned her laptop around and pushed it toward Doc.
The medic pulled it close. Cyn got up and came around to watch over his shoulder as he clicked through the information. “They made a hell of a mess.”
Cyn grimaced. “Holy hell. Based on the level of violence, the thief did not take the interruption well.”
Doc clicked. “Yeah, and based on the coroner’s report, she didn’t stand a chance.” He shifted his attention to Jinx. “The son slept through this?”
Even I, who didn’t know Doc from Adam, could hear the disbelief in his voice.
Jinx nodded. “The poor kid was in and out of therapy for years. Not that it helped, considering he OD’d three years ago.”
“What a waste. God, how many drugs did they have him on? Fuckers.” He frowned as his eyes moved over the scrolling information. “He was, what? Twenty-two or twenty-three?”
“Twenty-two,” Jinx said. “Hawes started a charity in both his wife and son’s names after that.”
Doc sat back, pushing the laptop toward Jinx. “Sad as his story is, there’s not much there that makes me think evil mastermind.”
“Me either, until we scratched the shine away,” Rabbit said. “You see, when Hawes’s wife died, she left a sizable amount of family money to her only son. At twenty-five, her baby boy stood to inherit a life-changing amount of money. Until then, daddy-o controlled the purse strings. Guess who inherited when the son met his tragic ending.”
“Hawes.” Cyn’s tone was hard.
Rabbit touched his nose. “Got it in one, chere.” Rabbit’s lazy humor disappeared, replaced by a tone of cold practicality. “With wife and son no longer in the picture, the major general came into a shit ton of money. Money he manages behind the mask of that charity he created. But see, here’s the thing. That money? It’s grown substantially—as in, a hell of a lot more than can be explained by charitable donations and investments. As a matter of fact, I went to backtrack a few of the more questionable amounts, and I’m still trying to unravel the knots.”
“And that’s not his only sin.” Jinx took back her laptop, typing as she talked. “He didn’t stay the mourning widower long, because within a month of putting his feet back on US soil, he had a lover tucked away in a condo a few miles from his home.”
“He’s gone through quite the arm-candy selection,” Rabbit added, proving that this back-and-forth he and Jinx had going was a familiar one. “And we’re not talking about corporate Carols either. Think more along the lines of femme fatales of DC’s elite.”
Jinx grimaced and set her laptop back on the table, where Bishop snagged it. “Most of whom are kept quite discreet,” she said, “but if you keep digging—”
“And we did,” Rabbit said.
Jinx didn’t bat an eye at Rabbit’s interruption. “There are a couple of incidents suspiciously light on details.”
“Incidents?” Kayden asked. “What kind?”
“The domestic-abuse kind,” Rabbit said, no trace of humor in sight. “In fact, during two such incidents, Hawes made a large one-time withdrawal right when the whispers started to gain serious strength.”
I scooted closer to Bishop until I could see the screen and the information he was scrolling through. I gave a soundless whistle as I read the names of the two women they were discussing—Ilene Ferguson and Margot Atler. The team had reason to be worried. These women weren’t the type to keep their mouths shut if someone hurt them.
“Payoffs.” Bishop continued to scroll through the files.
“That’s what we’re thinking,” Jinx agreed. “Problem is, we tried to dig up the current whereabouts of the two women in question, and we keep hitting dead ends. It’s like they disappeared into thin air.”
“Maybe they moved,” Doc suggested.
“Or maybe they’re dead,” Cyn said.
Bishop scrolled to the next screen, and everything in me stilled. I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop. “Who is that?” It came out harsher than I’d intended and cut the surrounding conversation off.
“Danielle Ferguson, Ilene’s younger sister.”
My world spun in a sickening lurch as I stared at the smiling face. “Oh my God, she’s real.” That face had haunted me the most because she’d died with my hands wrapped around her throat.
I didn’t realize I’d gotten to my feet or that I’d backed away from the laptop until Bishop’s face filled my vision. He was standing in front of me, his hands tight on my arms, holding me up. “Megan, talk to me.”
“I… she… I was…” I blinked rapidly, fighting against the hot press of tears.
“Breathe, babe.” The order was soft but firm.
I held on to it and him, sucked in a breath, and kept my shit together. “She’s the one I told you and the colonel about, from my nightmare. The one I—” I gave an abrupt headshake. “He strangled.”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded a little frantically and braced my hands on his chest. “If they can’t find her, it’s because she’s dead, and he killed her.”
“Someone want to explain what’s going on?” Kayden had moved closer to us.
Bishop let me bury my face against his chest as he brought the team up to speed on my role in the whole mess. Huddled in his arms, I was glad he was the one explaining. I wasn’t sure I was up to it. He didn’t leave anything out—not my worry about being a mole or my newly discovered ability. He finished with the latest run-in with the shooter.
There was no judgment in his retelling, just a simple statement of facts. It gave me the strength to stop hiding and face the team by his side. I couldn’t help watching their faces, but they were skilled at giving nothing away.
“How did the shooter know you would be there?” Doc asked.
“Maybe he was told to hang around in case someone showed up?” Jinx’s explanation might have sounded convincing if she hadn’t ended it as a question.
Cyn snorted. “That’d be a hell of a long shot.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “Whose idea was it to go back to the warehouse?”
I cleared my throat. “Mine. I wanted to see if going back would trigger any other memories.”
“Did it work?”
“Yeah,” Bishop answered. “She remembered her kidnapper arguing with another individual about her still being alive.”
“Hmm,” Cyn said, looking thoughtful. “Anyone know if Hawes ever tested for psychic abilities?”
“Nothing’s in his file,” Rabbit said.
“That doesn’t mean much,” Jinx added.
“What does your gut say, Bishop?” Doc asked.
The arm around my waist tightened. “My gut isn’t proof.”
“No, but it hasn’t led us wrong yet,” Kayden said.
Bishop sighed. “I think Hawes is behind Megan’s kidnapping, and I think Cyn’s right to think he’s psychic. I’m betting he made sure to keep his ability hidden. Chances are good if we let Rabbit and Jinx dig deeper, we’ll eventually not only uncover the bodies, but we’ll find a tie to Falcon too.”
A string of soft curses broke out, and Bishop grimaced. “We can take all of this to the colonel, but proving it will be a problem.”
“Especially since it means he’s probably got more than just money to keep that shit quiet.” Cyn got up and paced along the side of the room.
“He’d need a powerful someone to watch his six,” Kayden agreed.
“More like a couple of someones,” Rabbit corrected.
“As much as I hate to remind you all,” Doc said, “we can’t do a thing with this unless we have actual proof.”
“Give us a couple more days, and we can get you a gift with a damn bow,” Rabbit said in a tone of unshakable certainty.
The door to the conference room swun
g open, bringing the conversation to an abrupt halt as Wolf and Ricochet walked in followed by a lanky wild-haired man who did a quick scan of the room before his expression settled into grim lines. “Risia called.”
Next to me, Bishop stiffened while the room went wired.
Wild Man looked at Kayden. “Where’s Delacourt?”
“She’s late,” someone answered.
“That’s not good,” Wild Man muttered.
Bishop let me go and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “What’s going on, Tag?”
Wild Man, aka Tag, didn’t waste time. “I don’t know. Risia called as I was heading back here. She said she caught a flash of seeing, but nothing concrete. Just enough to let her know the colonel’s in trouble. She said if I got here and Delacourt wasn’t here, I was to tell you all that whatever you were talking about, you’re on the right track, but you’ll have to move fast or lose the colonel.”
That seemed to kick the team members out of their stunned state and back into high gear. Questions and orders flew around the room until a sharp whistle cut through the rising volume. Everyone turned to Cyn, who dropped her hands from her mouth. Strangely, she shot me a sympathetic look, and some instinct flared. I knew what she was going to say, and as much as it would hurt to hear it, I couldn’t fault her.
“I think Megan should go back to the condo.” When a couple of protests were made, she said, “As a precaution. Whatever connection she shares with Hawes, it’s enough to clue him in on what’s happening.”
Next to me, Bishop stiffened and took an aggressive step forward, but I grabbed his hand, pulling him to a stop. “No, she’s right.” Little pieces that had worried me were beginning to slip into place, thanks to Cyn’s blunt assessment. When Bishop looked back at me, I managed a reassuring smile even though everything in me wanted to rage and rail. It wasn’t fair—I was part of this mess. But I wasn’t stupid. Despite my need to take Hawes down, to hurt him the way he hurt me, my presence with the people performing that task would be a critical liability. “It was my idea to go to the warehouse, remember? Then I got that headache, the one you said meant I was using my abilities too much. What if it had nothing to do with my abilities? What if Hawes was influencing my decisions?”
“You don’t know that,” Bishop said, sounding exasperated.
“No, I don’t, but if there’s the slightest chance that it’s a possibility?” I let the question hang between us. “If Hawes is who we suspect, it’s better if I’m not here while you plan.”
“You wouldn’t betray us,” Bishop snapped.
“Not intentionally.” I watched him struggle with the truth. “One session with Ricochet doesn’t mean I can keep Hawes out of my head. You guys need to be able to go in with full confidence that he has no idea you’re coming for him. You can’t waste time worrying that he’ll use this connection he forged and turn me into some mindless weapon.”
“You wouldn’t let him.”
As much as I appreciated his confidence, I wasn’t so sure. “Maybe, maybe not. He almost had me last time. I won’t risk your team or the colonel just to soothe my ego.” I searched his face, refusing to let my hurt show because it had no place here. “You know I’m right.” Knowledge seeped in, eroding his stubbornness. Ignoring our curious audience, I braced my hands on his chest then rose on tiptoe to press a soft kiss to his chin. His hands settled on my waist, holding me close. Brushing my cheek alongside his jaw, I whispered, “I won’t risk you. Don’t ask me to.”
The hands at my waist tightened as he dropped his head and pressed his lips where my neck and shoulder met. When he lifted his head, I saw his grim acceptance and knew I had won. I cupped his jaw. “Thank you.”
I stepped back, and without his warmth, I felt a chill break over my skin. Everyone was watching us, and my cheeks heated, but I refused to be embarrassed at revealing how much Bishop meant to me. “Be safe.” I wanted to say a hundred other things, but that was the most important one.
His jaw flexed, but he gave me a nod. “Ricochet.”
As if he’d expected to hear his name, Ricochet was suddenly at my side. “I’ve got her.”
The two men exchanged a look, a silent conversation, before Bishop said, “Thank you.”
With nothing more to add, I turned and followed Ricochet out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Five
BISHOP
Watching Megan walk out the door sucked, but logic insisted it was for the best. It was Kayden who got us back on track. Within a couple of hours, we had a handful of certainties. One—the trace on the colonel’s phone was a no-go. Even when Rabbit tried turning it on remotely, all we got was crickets, making it highly probable the phone was nothing more than shattered electronics. Two—Rabbit found one outgoing call on the colonel’s phone just after Jinx filled her in. Surprise, surprise, the call was to base command’s HQ, where one Major General Hawes claimed an office. Three—the last known location of the colonel was base command’s parking lot, where Tag and Cyn found her locked and empty car. Cyn tried retracing Delacourt’s steps, using her ability to read past events, but unfortunately didn’t get much. There was too much foot traffic, she said. As a post-cog, she relied on the emotional echoes to sneak a peek into the past of a place or object, and the more personal the space or object, the clearer she could read. In this case, the base command’s parking lot gave her nothing but a headache. Like any military installation, security was a bitch, so accessing the video feed on the lot meant Rabbit exercising his hacking skills. Working his magic, he found the colonel’s arrival fairly quickly. Unfortunately, all we got was her getting out of her car and crossing the lot. Right before she went inside, someone off camera caught her attention, and she moved out of frame to where there were no electronic eyes.
With no other avenues to explore, we changed gears. Jinx combed through the electronic calendars, financials, and real estate holdings of the major general and, by process of elimination, got us a fairly solid schedule with an address. We also added Delacourt’s home address to our to-do list, even though the chance she was home was slim to none.
We split into two teams—Kayden, Cyn, Tag, and Jinx taking the colonel’s home, leaving Wolf, Doc, Rabbit, and me to scout out Hawes’s expansive estate. With plans in place, weapons strapped, and comms check complete, we headed out into the early evening and the snarling mess of Thursday-night traffic in one of the bland SUVs kept in the office lot. With nothing to concentrate on but driving, my mind decided to replay the scene with Megan. Cyn’s concerns were legit, but that didn’t erase the smudge of guilt for kicking Megan out that lingered like a bad taste on my tongue.
“For fuck’s sake, Bishop.” In the passenger seat, Wolf rubbed his temples. “You want to tone it down a little?”
Wincing, I threw up the mental shields Wolf had made sure each of us had honed into nearly impenetrable walls. “Shit, sorry.” Wallowing in my thoughts was not a wise move around a telepath—a point to remember, considering our suspicions about Hawes.
He waved my apology off. “It happens.” He sighed and focused on the passing scenery.
Something was working in his mind. I just wasn’t sure what, so I kept quiet. He’d share if he thought he needed to. Sure enough, a few minutes later, he said, “She wasn’t blaming you, you know.”
I shot a look to the rearview mirror to find Doc staring out the window and Rabbit with his head back and eyes closed, both attempting to give us privacy. Getting into this now, in front of them, was not on my agenda, but they were my team. If I planned to lift up my skirt, at least they wouldn’t post it all over social media.
My hands tightened on the wheel. “Yeah, I know.”
“Then what’s with the guilt?”
I poked at the feeling in an effort to answer, wincing when I hit a sore spot. “Admitting she could be used against us…” I shook my head. “Hearing her say it is one thing, but hearing the same thing from Cyn…” I rolled my shoulders, trying adjust the shitty feeling. “It felt
like we were kicking a damn puppy.”
Wolf snorted. “Fuck that. She’s more like a damn pitbull.”
That made my lips twitch. “I know that. You know that. But…”
“But?” he prompted when I fell silent.
Relationships were not my thing, so I had no idea if I was breaking a cardinal rule and sharing where I shouldn’t, but dammit, this was Wolf and Doc and Rabbit. If I couldn’t talk to them, I was screwed. Besides, they’d zip lips with the best of them. “She hates being thought of as weak.”
“Who the hell called her that?” Rabbit asked.
I snorted. “No one, but it doesn’t seem to matter. She can’t let go of her fear that she’ll hurt the team.”
“Not the team. You,” Doc corrected. “She’s trying to protect you.”
And wasn’t that a kick in the balls? I wasn’t used to someone trying to protect me, especially since I considered the protector role to be my job. “Yeah, she’s so fixed on saving my ass that she’s not watching hers.” Having that kind of blind spot worried me because Megan was the type to risk it all for those she considered hers. She never said it, but in every touch, every look, those damn sketches—hell, even the act of pulling me into her dreamworld—all of that said what she never had aloud: that she considered me hers. And that was a damn good thing because I, too, was just a tad possessive of what I considered mine.
Rabbit lifted his head and sat up. “Good thing she has you, then, ain’t it?”
No truer words were ever said. “Yeah it is,” I said. But it also makes my job that much more difficult.
“Warned you, brother.” Wolf went on to prove that no matter how strong my mental shields were, things got through. “I told you getting emotionally involved would blur your lines.”
I risked shooting him a look. “Didn’t stop you with Meli.”
Wolf flashed me a grin before he muttered, “It’s like that, then?”
“Yeah, it’s just like that.” Unfortunately, I’d do a hell of a lot more than just blur the lines for Megan if it meant keeping her alive and breathing. That truth sank into my battered heart, throwing my world off kilter. At the last minute, I remembered to keep my mental walls high and tight, but it was too little, too late.