Castle Investigations Box Set

by Dee Bridgnorth

  "Maggie's ok?" Lucas reached out and placed his arm around Scarlett's shoulders.

  "She's ok." Scarlett sighed and relaxed into him.

  "Let's get some rest." He guided her towards the elevators and to the third floor, to his room. He wondered if she'd want her own bed tonight. Disappointment at the thought of being separated tightened his chest. He was nervous about how much he'd grown to like this woman and feared the feelings were one-sided. Sure, she seemed to like him now, but he was helping her—Stockholm syndrome and all that. Did that even apply to this situation? He shook his head as they made their way into his room.

  She stepped inside and went straight for the bed, sitting on the side to remove her shoes and socks. He stood by the door, watching her. He opened his mouth to offer to leave, to find another room, when she said, "You coming?"

  "I wasn't sure if you'd want me here tonight."

  "This is your room."

  "Right, but I'm letting you borrow it. I can sleep on the couch or—"

  "Lucas, shut up and come hold me." Tremors shook her body, and he rushed to her side. The adrenaline from the day had worn off, and reality was crashing down around them. He scooped her up, laying her on the bed, and crawled in beside her.

  She curled around him, holding onto him tightly. The sobs came then, heart-wrenching cries that seemed to come from the depths of her soul. He held her, letting her cry for all she had lost. The loss of her sister, the loss of her innocence, the loss of her not knowing how ugly the world could be.

  Eventually, the crying slowed, replaced with the soft, even sounds of her breathing. Exhaustion had taken over, and Scarlett slept.

  He rested his head on his pillow, contemplating his feelings for this woman. Did he deserve a second chance? Would he be able to find her sister? And what would happen if they didn't find her in time?

  He refused to consider that. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out, checking the screen. Sully.

  Sully: He's here. We'll be in the interrogation room.

  Lucas: On my way.

  Lucas slid his arm out from under Scarlett, making sure not to wake her. He slipped out the door and made his way to the interrogation room. It was the only room on the second floor that didn't have walls of glass. Instead, soundproof panels kept any noise from filtering throughout the warehouse.

  Ethan was coming out the door as Lucas approached.

  "He in there?"

  "Yeah. He's a nasty piece of work. Good luck. I’m off to take a shower and hit the sack." Ethan's Southern euphemisms never failed to make Lucas smile.

  "Thanks, man."

  "You got it."

  Lucas walked in as Sullivan was handcuffing the son of a bitch to the chair. His leg was oozing blood, and Lucas raised his eyebrows at Sullivan in question.

  "Bullet's still in there. He's gonna need medical attention, but we didn't have time to waste."

  Lucas nodded and sat down across from the guy.

  "What's your name?"

  "Susie, what's yours?" the guy spat at him, an evil grin plastered across his ugly face.

  "Ok, Susie. I'll play your game. You want to tell me where Damon's got the girl, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?"

  "You can't hurt me. I want a lawyer."

  Lucas laughed, turning to Sully. Sully threw his head back with laughter, too. Susie looked puzzled, like he'd missed the joke somehow.

  "Well, Susie, let me explain something to you. You see, we're not the cops, so we aren't bound by the same rules they are."

  Sully stepped forward, a gun in his hand. "So you either start talking, or we start putting holes in you. Understand?"

  The man looked uncertain, as if trying to determine whether they were joking.

  "Now, we're going to try this again. What's your name?"

  Sullivan pointed the gun at the guy's other knee. He squirmed. "It's Sal. My name's Sal Romano."

  "All right, Sal—where's Damon keeping the girl?"

  "What girl? Damon's got a lot of girls."

  "You know what girl. The sister. The one he took last night from an apartment off Parker Street. That girl."

  "I don't know that girl," he lied. The sound of a gunshot rang out, and Sal jumped in his chair. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he realized he hadn’t been hit.

  "That's the only warning you'll get," Sully said. "Now answer the damn question. Where's the girl?"

  "I don't know, I swear. He keeps some at a motel in D.C. It's a rent-by-the-hour kind of place. I don't know which one."

  "Very good, Sal. Now, where's he meeting his client tomorrow night?"

  Sal shook his head. "He'll kill me," he cried.

  "How do you know we won't?" Sully retorted and cocked his gun again, pointing it at Sal's head.

  "Please. I don't know. I just know he's meeting him at the docks. He didn't tell me which one. I’m not all that important. He only tells me what I need to know." Sweat ran down Sal's fat face, soaking through his armpits and around his neck. His color was white, and Lucas knew the pain of the bullet in his knee was getting to him.

  "Why'd he send you after Maggie?" Lucas pressed on.

  "He was gonna use her as bait to get to the redhead. The girl's sister."

  "Last question, Sal. Who's Damon working for?" Fear crossed Sal's face, and Lucas knew that of all the questions he'd asked, this one scared him the most. Sal shook his head.

  "Who? Who does Damon work for?"

  "No one." A gunshot rang out as blood appeared on Sal's shoulder. He cried out in pain, writhing against his restraints.

  "I don't know his name! I swear! We only know him as El Padre.

  "How can we find El Padre?"

  "You don't find him—he finds you. And if he doesn't like you, you disappear. Please, I don't know anything else."

  Lucas stood, catching Sully's eye. "We're done here."

  Sully nodded and took out his cell phone. "We need a doctor. And get our contact on the phone. I need him to take out the garbage."

  Lucas walked down the hall towards the elevator. As he rode to the third floor, he contemplated who El Padre could be. Was Damon acting alone in taking Emery, or was he working for someone else?

  Crossing the room, he went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. He was too worked up to go back to bed and knew he'd just toss and turn. He didn't want to wake Scarlett. Who would know where Damon kept the girls? His thoughts turned to Maryanne, and he sent her a quick text: Need to talk. I'll stop by tomorrow morning.

  He pocketed his phone and took another long pull from the bottle. The bitter tang of beer hit his tongue, and the worries of the evening seemed to melt away, if only for a moment.

  The door to his room opened, and Scarlett emerged wearing only a sweatshirt—his sweatshirt. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her hair was mussed, her eyes heavy with sleep.

  He set the bottle down and walked towards her. They met in the middle of the room, and he pulled her close to him. She was warm and soft, and he wanted to stay in her arms and never leave. He wanted to forget the cold world outside these walls and get lost in all things Scarlett.

  She wrapped her arms around his middle and looked up into his eyes. He loved how small she was compared to him.

  "Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

  "No. And they brought Damon's man in, so I wanted to ask him a few questions."

  Hope filled Scarlett's eyes. "What did he say? Does he know where Em is?"

  Lucas directed her towards the sofa. She sat, crossing her legs and tucking her feet underneath her. Lucas sat next to her and placed his hands on her knees.

  "He said she was being kept in a motel in D.C. He didn't know which one. He also confirmed that Damon was meeting a buyer at the docks, but he didn't know where that was, either."

  "So we're no closer to finding her than we were earlier." The hope that was there before was now replaced by defeat and despair. He hated that she was going through this and wished he could do s
omething more to find Emery.

  "I'm going back to Maryanne's tomorrow. I want to see if she knows what motels Damon frequents. Then we can send people to each one and search the rooms. We'll find her."

  "I'm going with you." Scarlett put her hand up to stop him from interrupting her. "I'm not arguing about this. I'm going—that way, if we get a lead, you don't have to waste time coming back to get me."

  Lucas grabbed the hand she'd raised, pulled it to his lips, and placed a kiss on her palm. "We should get some sleep," he said.

  She stood, taking his hands and pulling him up to stand next to her. Lucas's gaze dropped to her lips, and she moved closer. He lowered his head, taking her mouth with his own. This kiss was slow, tender—as if he could kiss away all her worries and fears. What he wasn't able to communicate in words, he tried to communicate with his body—how much he needed her.

  His hands ran down her sides and up under the sweatshirt she was wearing. He cupped her bottom, pulling her taut against him. He moved his hands to her hips, running them up her sides to her ribcage. She trembled, and a smile curved her lips under his.

  "You like that, huh?" He nipped her bottom lip, and she giggled. The sound was magical, and he knew at that moment that he could spend the rest of his life making her giggle like that if she would just let him.

  His mouth slanted over hers once again, all joking aside as the feelings that were swirling inside his chest took over. His hands roamed her body, and a tiny moan escaped her lips. That moan was his undoing.

  He lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his middle, and carried her back to his room. As he laid her on the bed, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Ignoring it, he took it out and laid it on the nightstand.

  He covered her body with his own, pressing her into the bed, their bodies fitting together as if they’d been made for each other. He fisted handfuls of her hair in his hands and deepened the kiss, losing himself in the taste and feel of her.

  A buzzing sound on the nightstand threatened to interrupt his exploration of her body, but he pushed the interference to the back of his mind, concentrating instead on Scarlett. Once more, his hands traced the outside of her leg, from the bottom of her foot to the top of her panty line. His hand followed the line to her navel, and he lifted her shirt slightly, placing a kiss in the indentation.

  His phone was dancing on the nightstand, and he finally paused a moment to see who wouldn't leave him the hell alone. Maryanne.

  "I have to take this," he said.

  Scarlett's gaze, heavy with desire, found his, and she nodded. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Scarlett as he took the call.

  "Yeah?"

  "Lucas—" Maryanne's voice was slurred. She was high.

  "What do you need, Maryanne? It's the middle of the night."

  "Lucas, I'm sorry. Sorry…for Laura. For…everything. Should have…been me." Her sentences ran together, broken up by her heavy breathing.

  "Maryanne, are you ok? Did you take something? Is anyone with you? You need to get help."

  "No time. He's coming. He knows."

  "Who's coming? Who knows what? Maryanne, you aren't making any sense."

  Scarlett sat up straight on the bed, her face full of worry and concern.

  "Damon knows. He told him. She's at church—" Her heavy panting cut off her words, as if it took all her energy to just take a breath.

  "Who's at church, Maryanne?" Lucas pressed, knowing she might not have much time. He motioned to Scarlett to get dressed, so they could go, shoving his wallet and keys into his pants pocket. He'd suggest that she stay behind, but he knew that was futile.

  "Maryanne, talk to me. Are you ok?"

  From the other end of the line, he heard a door open and slam shut. Footsteps crossed the tiled floors and stopped abruptly, followed by the rustling of covers on the bed.

  "Who's there? Maryanne? Who's with you?"

  "None of your business, Lucas Falco." His voice was familiar. He'd heard it just a few hours ago. Damon Lopez.

  "Leave Maryanne alone," Lucas said, his voice taking on a menacing tone.

  "So, you're the one that's been giving me so many problems. You have her, and I want her."

  "Listen here, you son of a bitch, you keep your hands off—"

  "I'll find her. She's mine," Damon said in a hushed tone. His words were followed by the sound of labored breathing, then the strangled gurgles of what Lucas knew were the last breaths Maryanne would ever take.

  He grabbed Scarlett by the hand, pulling her out the door as he headed towards the garage.

  "What's going on, Lucas?" Scarlett asked in a panicked voice.

  "He killed her. While I was on the phone…" His voice fell away as he choked back the emotion that threatened to overtake him.

  Maryanne was a drug addict and a prostitute, but she was also the only connection he had left to Laura. She may not have been the best sister or even human to ever live, but she had once been a friend.

  He put the Jag in reverse and spun out, taking the ramp down instead of the freight elevator. He flew around corners, tires squealing in protest as he made the right-angle turns.

  He risked a quick look at Scarlett, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her face white in color. He was ashamed for bringing her with him, knowing what he would find when he got to Maryanne's place. But he was just selfish enough to want her there. He needed her now more than ever.

  Chapter 13

  Scarlett sat in the driver's seat of the car while Lucas went in to check on Maryanne. She had a bad feeling that this wasn't going to end the way she wanted it to. She swallowed the lump in her throat, choking back the emotions that threatened to overtake her. She had to be strong for Lucas—had to be there for him the way he'd been there for her these last couple of days.

  Dawn was approaching as the black of night faded into pinks and reds. The faint chirping from a nearby bird gave a false sense that all was calm this night. Scarlett shivered as the cold crept through the car, and turned on the ignition, allowing the heat to warm her.

  As she sat there, taking in the run-down townhome, its occupants spilling out onto the sidewalks and lying across the front steps, Scarlett wondered what circumstances drove someone to be so despondent that they'd sell their body just to get a fix. How did one get to that point? What had happened in their lives to make them think they had no other way?

  Scarlett took her phone from her purse, realizing she hadn’t checked her messages since the voicemails from Emery. Zach had returned it to her that night, after getting all he could from the phone. She noticed she had several missed calls and voicemails.

  The first dozen were from Maggie, asking for an update, each message ramping up in desperation. She had one from her boss at her day job, approving her vacation leave and wishing her the best. The last one was from a number she didn’t recognize. She hit play and put the phone to her ear.

  Heavy breathing emanated from the phone, and Scarlett's hands began to shake. Several seconds were filled with the sound of someone messing with her, when finally he broke the silence, saying in a hushed whisper, "I'm coming for you."

  Scarlett dropped the phone and looked up, hoping to see Lucas running out of the townhome. Instead, a dark shadow passed by the front of the car. Scarlett checked the locks, making sure she was secured inside. A pounding on the passenger window caused her to scream. Her hand flew to her heart as she struggled to make out who was next to the car.

  An old man with a graying beard, yellow eyes, and wrinkled skin pressed his face to the glass. "You got the good stuff, missy?" he asked. She shook her head no and tried to slow her racing heart. The old bum walked off down the street, and Scarlett prayed Lucas would hurry.

  It seemed God was answering her prayers today. Lucas stepped out of the townhome and pulled out his cell phone, talking to someone as he jogged back to the car.

  Scarlett crawled over the console and back into the passenger seat just as Lucas slid in, his phone still to his ear.


  "Looks like she overdosed, but he finished the job." He paused as the other person spoke.

  "Thanks, Sully. Yeah, she's here with me, stayed in the car. No one should have to experience that. Send the bill to me." He ended the call and looked at Scarlett.

  "You're as white as a ghost! What happened?"

  Scarlett shook her head. "First, tell me what happened in there."

  Lucas dropped his head into his hands. "She's gone." His shoulders shook as emotion poured out of him. Scarlett reached across the console, hugging him to her as best she could.

  "She didn’t deserve to die like that," he said.

  "No one does. I'm sorry." She ran her hands through his hair, holding his head to her shoulder.

  He let her comfort him for a few moments before lifting his head and asking her, "What happened while I was gone?"

  "It was nothing. Just a bum who wanted drugs. Just scared me, that's all."

  "You're not telling me everything," he said.

  She sighed and took out her phone. She hit the speaker button and played the message.

  Lucas's face was red with anger as he listened to Damon's threat. He took out his phone and dialed a number, never taking his eyes off her.

  "Zach. He called her." He paused. "Yeah, on our way." Lucas tucked the phone in his pocket and put the car in drive.

  "Zach wants to hear the message and see if he can find anything out from the background noises."

  Scarlett settled into her seat, the fatigue and exhaustion engulfing her. She thought about the past forty-eight hours and wondered what she would have done if Lucas hadn't been there when she’d gotten those messages from Emery. What if she'd gone home on time? She would be missing, too, and there would be no one to find her. She shuddered and pulled her knees up to her chin. Lucas placed his hand on her knee.

  "We'll get him. I promise."

  But Scarlett knew there was no way he could ensure that he kept that promise.