ENTANGLED PURSUITS (MEN OF ACTION Book 1)

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ENTANGLED PURSUITS (MEN OF ACTION Book 1) Page 11

by Brenda Jackson


  He started the car, and since he didn’t say anything else about his home, not even the location, she decided not to ask. There was a time she would have, but not now. He was keeping that part of his life private, and although he had every right, it still hurt a little.

  “When was the last time you talked to Joy?” he asked her.

  She glanced over at him. His eyes were focused on the road and she couldn’t help wondering why he’d asked her that. Had Joy mentioned their conversation from last night to Stonewall? She doubted it. Drew was probably just making conversation.

  “Last night. She called to see how my first day on the job went. Stonewall’s grandmother had baked them a cake, and he’d gone to pick it up.”

  “I can believe that. Granny Kay bakes the best cakes. I get one from her every year for my birthday.”

  “That’s nice of her.”

  “She’s a sweetheart. So is Stonewall’s sister, Amelia. Most of us almost never got visitors when we were in prison, but Stonewall’s grandmother and sister would visit him all the time. They never let him feel alone. And they included the rest of us. His family became ours, and we’re still close.”

  “Dr. Amelia Courson is a very beautiful woman. Is that why none of your friends hit on her at the wedding?”

  He nodded. “She’s family.”

  Toni had met the sister-in-law Joy adored at one of Joy’s bridal showers. According to Joy, Amelia, who was four years younger than Stonewall and often called Mellie, had entered her first beauty pageant at eighteen, mainly for the scholarships. She had wanted to be a doctor and saw those scholarships as a way to pay for medical school. Amelia had once been Miss Charlottesville and Miss Virginia. She’d even competed in Miss USA and had come in third. Now Amelia was a doctor at St. Francis Memorial in Charlottesville, Virginia.

  Although Toni had noted that all of Stonewall’s friends had treated Amelia like a little sister, the detective in her had noticed that one man, though keeping his distance, had his eyes on Amelia most of the time. That man was Stonewall’s friend, billionaire Dakota Navarro. Joy had told Toni that Stonewall and Dakota had become friends when Stonewall had been hired to be the wealthy billionaire’s bodyguard.

  “What did Joy think of us being partners?”

  She paused for a moment, then decided to give him a watered-down version. “She thinks we’ll work well together.”

  He laughed. “Sounds like Joy.”

  Now it was her time to ask a question. “What are your plans for the weekend?”

  Too late, she realized that might not have been a good question to ask. There was a time when their weekends had been saved for each other. They didn’t plan a romantic getaway every weekend—but pretty close to it.

  He brought the car to a stop at a traffic light and looked over at her. “I don’t plan my weekends anymore, Toni.”

  She met his gaze, feeling a deep pain encase her heart. She wished she could undo things...but that was impossible. Hopefully, they’d be able to move beyond what she’d done, and one day be friends again. But could she just be friends with a man she loved? A man who could push her buttons without even trying? His deep, husky voice alone still made heat curl inside of her in the worst possible way.

  “What about you? What are your plans for the weekend, Toni?”

  Jeez. Did he have to look at her like that? She was tempted to tell him that her plans were whatever he had in mind. She felt it, that spike of heat between them they just couldn’t shake. That spike that always seemed to show up when they were alone and talking about anything other than work.

  She nervously licked her lips, but regretted the action when she saw him follow the movement of her tongue. Clearing her throat, she said, “I’m still unpacking. I’ve just got the bigger boxes to finish up.”

  “Do you need help?”

  She swallowed. “Help?”

  “Sure. I bring plenty of muscle power to the table.”

  Her gaze roamed over his shoulders. Yes, he could certainly bring that to the table...and to the bedroom. She pushed that thought from her mind. The last thing she needed was Drew all in her space. “I’m surprised you would volunteer.”

  “Why not? You’re my partner and you just moved to town. All I’m doing is offering my help. You and I both know that whatever was between us in the past is over and done with. But we can be friends. Since we’ll be working together, do we have a choice?”

  No, they didn’t. He was right. They were working together and he was her partner. They couldn’t let personal emotions get in the way of them doing their jobs. She might detect sexual chemistry—and there was nothing she could do about that—but he was letting her know that anything more developing between them was close to impossible.

  “Thanks for your offer, Drew, but I’ll be fine. I’m taking my time. In fact, I thought about driving to D.C. on Sunday to that concert in the park.”

  “Great minds think alike. I’d thought about going there myself on Sunday. I’m meeting a friend and we plan to hang out.”

  “How nice,” she said, breaking eye contact with him. She figured his friend was female. Probably Natalie.

  A few minutes later, he pulled into the Rocket Restaurant, smiled over at her and said, “We’re here.”

  • • •

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had better seafood gumbo.”

  Drew chuckled, looking at her empty bowl. “I told you. By the way, I meant to tell you earlier that Locke told me to say hello. I talked to him last night.” There was no need to add that he intended to hire a PI firm Locke recommended to investigate what went down with her in Miami.

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Good. Really good.”

  “What about Shogun and Macayle?”

  “They’re good, too. They’ve got plenty of cases keeping them busy.”

  “I can imagine. That’s on my bucket list.”

  “What?”

  “To visit Oregon one day.”

  “It’s a beautiful state,” Drew said. “I thought about moving there with them—and probably would have, if I hadn’t been offered the job here.”

  At that moment the waitress came to see if they wanted dessert. Toni declined and so did he. “You can bring the check, please,” he then told her.

  “You don’t have to pay for my meal, Drew.”

  He shrugged. “You paid for our lunch yesterday.”

  “Yes, but the cost of your hamburger and fries wasn’t nearly as much as my gumbo.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He checked his watch. “Ready to go?”

  She nodded. “Ready.”

  DREW HAD BEEN RIGHT—as far as technical analysts went, Valerie Bailey was the best in the business. Valerie had greeted them with a smile and had brought in a box of donuts for them all to enjoy with their coffee.

  On the elevator ride to their meeting with Valerie, Drew had told Toni all about her. Valerie was a computer wiz. At just twenty-five, she had already been instrumental in solving a number of the department’s crimes’ cases. Her father was a highly respected technical analysts with the FBI. And to top that, Valerie was a sharp-shooter and was often called to work with the SWAT team.

  Just like most offices belonging to technical analysts, walking into Valerie’s was like entering a NASA command center. Numerous computer screens were on the walls, some even hanging from the ceiling. And there were rows of monitors lining several desks.

  It wasn’t hard to see that Valerie loved her job. It was also obvious that the very attractive, upbeat woman had a fondness for Andrew. A part of Toni appreciated the wedding ring she saw on the woman’s finger and the framed photograph of a husband and little boy on her desk. When Drew asked about her husband, Valerie told Toni that her husband and Drew were golfing buddies.

  She’d glanced over at Drew. When had he started playing golf? He used to play a game of tennis with her every now and then, but never golf. It must be something he’d gotten into after they broke up.

>   Toni tried to keep her eyes off Drew today, but he looked too good—as usual. She had enjoyed dinner with him, and after he’d taken her back to get her car, he’d only waited long enough to see that she got in before driving off.

  On the way back, he had asked her more questions about the hostage situation in Miami. She had already told him most of it, and figured he was only asking to keep conversation going between them.

  That had been fine with her. Talking had kept her mind off the desire swamping her senses. It had always been this way with Drew. He, and only he, had this mind-blowing effect on her. Who would have thought, after a nearly five-year separation, that he could still make her nerves dance and certain parts of her body overheat? Just from him looking at her.

  “I’ve managed to dig up some information on Wizzin,” Valerie was saying, reclaiming her attention. “First, both Homeland Security and the FBI have them on their radar. There seems to be a lot of questionable activities going on during those online auctions, especially in their bidding process,” she said, pointing to one huge computer screen.

  “Currently, like most things online, there is very little regulation. You would be surprised at some of the things being bid on. Even humans aren’t off-limits,” Valerie added.

  “Wizzin is involved in human trafficking?” Drew asked.

  “There’s evidence, but nothing can be proven...yet. Still, the Bureau is studying the buying habits of a lot of the Wizzin buyers. They’ve noticed that some of those names are showing up on a few unsavory online buying sites.” She paused. “I just wanted to let you know what you were getting into.”

  Suddenly, one of the screens lit up and an image of a man flashed. Valerie turned to them. “This is one of the guys we’re most interested in. His name is Fred Tatters. He works for billionaire Will Mooney.”

  Toni lifted a brow. “The Will Mooney who owns the NBA Dragons?”

  Valerie’s smile widened. “I see you keep up with basketball.”

  Toni returned her smile. “My grandfather’s a fan of most sports.”

  “Well, it seems Mooney is into more than sports. Look at the money he raked in after the last Wizzin auction,” Valerie said. Another screen flashed with several arrows denoting a money trail.

  “Wow, what did he auction off?” Toni asked.

  “According to the records, several rare paintings,” Valerie said.

  “But what could be Maria Tindal’s involvement?” Drew asked, rubbing his bearded chin as he studied the screen.

  Toni figured he was thinking that was a lot of money moving about in one day—all headed toward Swiss bank accounts. The woman in her also remembered other times he’d rub his chin—when he was aroused…which in turn would arouse her. Now he wore a beard and thought he looked even sexier with it. She wondered how that beard would feel rubbing against breasts, her stomach, and right at the juncture of her thighs. A bolt of desire ran through her as her imagination soared.

  Valerie’s reply brought her attention back to the matter at hand. “If Maria Tindal was involved, there’s no money trail leading to her bank account. I checked. I’m running reports to see if perhaps she had other bank accounts we aren’t aware of. However, there is this,” Valerie said, moving to another screen.

  Toni recognized the video. It was the one they had picked up from the gun range yesterday. She and Drew had watched it already, but hadn’t seen anything of interest. “Did we miss something?” Drew asked, stepping closer to the screen.

  “No,” Valerie said. “You had no reason to continue viewing the video once Maria Tindal left the premises.”

  “We did watch it until we knew for sure that she wasn’t followed from the lot,” Drew said.

  “Yes, but this is something else,” Valerie added, fast-forwarding the video two hours.

  Both Toni and Drew watched as a man exited the building. His back was to them so they couldn’t make an ID. They watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and hit speed dial. Obviously, it was a number he called a lot. The conversation only lasted the time it took for him to reach his car.

  Just before the man got behind the wheel, it looked like he received a call. Pulling his phone from the pocket of his jacket, he began talking. The conversation lasted three minutes.

  “Although he kept his back to the camera, and we couldn’t get a facial ID, I did a body breakdown, and this is one of the profiles I came up with.” The face of a man appeared on the screen.

  “Fred Tatters,” Toni said, nodding. “Interesting.”

  “You might find this even more interesting. I was able to decipher the keys on his phone pad. The number he dialed is one of many to Will Mooney’s private lines. And the call he received? One of the cameras caught an image of the phone screen. The call was from a Roger Shellpoint.”

  “Roger Shellpoint,” Drew said, repeating the name. “Where do I know that name from?”

  “Probably the FBI. He’s been on their radar for a while. A few years back, they thought they had enough to put him away, but the charges were dropped on a technicality. Last thing I heard on him, he was living in Nevada.”

  “Do you think Will Mooney is somehow involved with Shellpoint? It would be foolish to get too caught up in a man who has history with the Feds,” Toni said.

  “That’s just it. Until now, we never had reason to suspect a connection. We still can’t. All we know is a common denominator is Tatters, and he spoke to both men the same night, just minutes apart,” Valerie said.

  “The big question is...where does Maria Tindal fit into all this?” Valerie said. “I did a body mass assessment of the gun range, and at no time did Maria Tindal and Fred Tatters’s bodies come within fifty feet of each other. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t aware she was there, or vice versa. And there is also another possibility.”

  “What?” Toni asked.

  “That Maria Tindal didn’t place something in one of the lockers, and Tatters retrieved it after she left. The body mass assessment only detects when bodies come within a certain range of each other.”

  “So it might be more than a coincidence that Tatters and Maria were there the same night,” Toni said, thoughtfully.

  “I wonder what Shellpoint’s role is in all of this?” Andrew said, studying the screens.

  “Maybe Fred Tatters can answer that for you, especially in light of this,” Valerie said, pointing to another screen. “Market and Pearl. That is the only intersection near Maria Tindal’s residence that has a traffic cam. It seems that the same vehicle Fred Tatters was driving the night he was at the gun range passed through the intersection of Market and Pearl the night Maria Tindal was killed—and within an hour of her death.”

  Drew glanced over at Toni. “Let’s have Tatters picked up and brought in for questioning.”

  • • •

  Five hours later, Andrew and Toni were walking the long hallway that led to the interrogation rooms. Earlier, they had gotten approval for a search warrant for Byron Nettles. At this moment, officers were en route to his home, intent on getting a copy of the flash drive Nettles claimed Maria Tindal had taken from him, including the rest of his electronic equipment. That meant confiscating Nettles’s computer and videos from his security cameras, too. It would have been a lot easier on him if he’d just cooperated in the first place.

  “I’ll be curious to see just what was coming up for auction. There has to be something pretty valuable on that drive—something worth killing for,” Andrew said.

  Thirty minutes ago, they’d received a call from Valerie. She’d found something she thought they’d find interesting. In reviewing Fred Tatters’s social media pages, Valerie had come across several photos of him and Byron Nettles together at various sporting events. That meant the two men were friends.

  Yes, that was definitely interesting.

  When Andrew and Toni entered the interrogation room, they found a not-so-happy Fred Tatters sitting there. He looked to be around thirty-four or thirty-five. He was dressed in a pair
of slacks and polo shirt, and his hair was neatly cut, as if he’d recently visited the barber. He glanced up and frowned at them.

  “Mr. Tatters, I’m Detective Andrew Logan, and this is Detective Antonia Oliver.” They both sat at the table.

  “There better be a good reason why I was picked up and brought here,” Tatters said angrily.

  “There is,” Toni said. “Maria Tindal. Do you know her?”

  He shrugged. “Am I supposed to?”

  So, Andrew thought, he wants to play games, does he? “We’re not sure. All we know is that Ms. Tindal is dead, and we have reason to believe you might be involved. So, I’m going to ask you again, Mr. Tatters. Do you know Maria Tindal?”

  The man glared at Andrew. “No. I don’t know her.”

  Andrew leaned back in his chair and propped an ankle on his other knee. “Then, I guess you have a reason for being at the gun range on the same night she was there?”

  The man shrugged his shoulders again. “Purely coincidental.”

  “And was it purely coincidental that your vehicle was seen in her neighborhood around the same time she was killed?”

  The man’s gaze narrowed. “I’m calling my lawyer.”

  A smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes touched Andrew’s lips. “By all means, do that. Either way, eventually you’re going to have to answer our questions.”

  Now that Tatters was sufficiently on edge, thanks to Andrew’s ‘bad cop’ routine, Toni took over. “Mr. Tatters, we’ve also discovered a connection between you and Byron Nettles. Could you please tell us what your relationship with him is?”

  At first the man didn’t say anything, then obviously realizing they were going to find out anyway, he admitted, “Byron and I met at college.”

  “Ohio State University?” Toni asked.

  At the surprised look in the man’s eyes, Andrew chuckled. “Yes, we even know what college Nettles went to.”

  “Okay, yes, Ohio State University. But I refuse to tell you anything else until I talk to my attorney.”

  Andrew stood, and Toni did, too. “Fine. Call your attorney. Oh, and just in case you’re thinking of warning Nettles that we’re on to you two, I should tell you something,” Toni said. “By now, our uniformed officers should already be at his place with a search warrant.”

 

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