by R J Gray
Finding Teagan
Missing Pieces, Book Two
RJ Gray
Published by Blushing Books
An Imprint of
ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.
A Virginia Corporation
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Charlottesville, VA 22901
©2019
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
RJ Gray
Finding Teagan
EBook ISBN: 978-1-64563-149-1
v1
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
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Prologue
Teagan shivered. The cold wood beneath her legs and the late November temperatures were frigid. She should go back inside the house and grab her coat—should but wouldn't—she didn't want to take the chance of being noticed and having to talk. She didn't want to talk any more. She needed a break from the boisterous board game competition going on. It was too normal, too functional for her. Sure, the day had started out rough, with Ro's dad confronting Ro about her fertility treatments, and both of her sisters seeming off, but after a sister pow wow under the tree, everything had become easier.
It was Teagan's first real Thanksgiving. As a child, she had spent some time in a group home where different churches would bring turkey and fixings over to feed the poor, lonely foster children. The pity in their eyes had enraged Teagan. None of them offered to take the kids home. Dropping off food or the occasional used toy would be enough to make them think they were helping; they would be so very proud of their charity. It wasn't that the food or toys weren't appreciated; they were. More than anything, these kids, young Teagan, needed emotional nourishment. They needed love, acceptance and attention.
The food was delicious, but besides the food, Thanksgiving inside the group home was a normal day. Reading alone in her bed, in a room with five other girls, eating on trays like inmates at a prison, timed, ten-minute, lukewarm showers. There was nothing that made it feel like a holiday. Once, a home had become available, but by then, she was too old to be considered adoptable. She wouldn't end up in a good home, with foster parents who were looking to add a child permanently to their family. Her final foster home couldn't care less about any of their foster children. They never had turkey on Thanksgiving or even sat around a table to eat. Everyone who was old enough, fed themselves. Teagan was tasked with feeding the younger children. She didn't know how to cook, so they ate a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
In college, she busted her butt at the mall working Black Friday. They paid more for the holiday hours, and she signed up for every last shift. She needed the money as much as she needed to keep busy. Sitting alone in her studio apartment, it could be hard to keep the depression at bay. After completing the police academy, she picked up extra shifts during the holidays so her coworkers could spend time with their families. Teagan had spent her entire life trying not to think about her biological family, until fate had intervened, and she found not one, but two, identical triplet sisters, which is how she found herself shivering on a cold, wooden swing on Thanksgiving night.
"You seem lost in thought, darlin'." The large, tall, dark and handsome man approached her. Lorenzo De Luca. Teagan had learned quickly that no one called him Lorenzo. The former Navy SEAL was her brother-in-law's best friend. No man had ever had the effect on her that he did. To be honest, she was tired of squirming in her seat with him around.
"I thought I told you to stop calling me that," Teagan said. She sighed loudly in irritation when he sat down next to her.
"Decided to escape before I could challenge you to another game of Yahtzee? You know, I was letting you win."
"Sure. That was it. You were letting me win. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I could actually roll a combination that worked," Teagan said, chuckling. If she was honest, she enjoyed their playful banter.
"We could go back inside, and I could prove it to you."
"I was enjoying the peace and quiet," Teagan said, looking pointedly at Luca.
"I can be quiet," Luca replied, scooting closer to Teagan. She felt the warmth of his body and had to stop herself from leaning into him. He smelled good, too good. Masculine. Spicy. He was all male, not the type who had to flaunt his alpha personality but a natural born leader. His men respected his leadership, a respect born from the ruins of combat. His body was toned, muscled, not from hours at the gym, but from hard work. He had grown up working on a cattle ranch. She laughed the first time he had told her that, an Italian cattle rancher. He quickly told her the only part of his heritage he knew anything about was his last name. His family had been in America for over a hundred years. No one in his immediate family spoke Italian or cooked it, either. He had volunteered the last part before she could ask.
"What made you join the Navy?" Teagan spoke first, the silence getting to her.
"I love my family and my small hometown, but I needed more. We were the typical middle-class family. Dad wanted me to take over the ranch, but I wanted something… more. I was the captain of my high school football team, and during my junior year, college recruiters started knocking. College was never on my radar. I had enough of sitting behind a desk in high school. My senior year, an Air Force recruiter called. It was the first time I had thought about joining the military as an option. I've always been the competitive type, so I went online and did some research. Navy SEALs were the best of the best, the hardest to make. If I was going to do something, I was going to do it all the way."
"That doesn't surprise me at all," Teagan replied, feeling Luca's arm drape around her shoulder, giving her a light squeeze. He pulled her close to him, and Teagan felt herself stiffen.
"Why do you keep fighting this, darlin'?" Luca asked.
"I don't know what you mean."
"I don't like you lying to me. You know exactly what I mean." Luca's dominant tone sent butterflies into Teagan's belly.
"Trident has been whining at the door. Apparently, you went outside and forgot about him," Octavius called from the front porch. Teagan smiled widely as the German Shepherd came bounding toward them, grateful for the interruption.
"Traitor," Luca muttered when, instead of going straight to his owner, Trident nudged his large, hairy head underneath Teagan's hand.
"He knows I love him," she said, petting Trident. Standing up, Luca offered Teagan his hands. As she allowed him to help her stand, she was unprepared to be pulled into a deep embrace.
"You are freezing, darlin'," Luca said, wrapping his arms even tighter around her. The chill she was feeling instantly disappeared. He lowered his lips and kissed her forehead gently bef
ore speaking again.
"Next time you decide to go out into the cold, make sure you dress appropriately. I don't like my girl putting herself at risk," Luca scolded. "In fact, once you stop fighting us being together, this type of behavior will earn you a nice, warm bottom to go with your ice-cold fingers." He let her go then, and she rushed back toward the house, his laughter following behind.
Dammit. For the umpteenth time since meeting him, Teagan was reminded why she needed to keep a spare, clean pair of underwear in her car.
Chapter 1
When she turned onto the street of the crime, Detective Teagan Smith took a long pull from her coffee and tried to steel herself before she reached the scene. Dispatch had said that the officers who arrived at the scene of the domestic disturbance found a barely conscious woman who had been attacked by her husband, with three small children in the house. The husband was still at the scene.
The sound of the helicopter overhead sped up the rate of Teagan's beating heart. "Don't let it be Pegasus; don't let it be Pegasus," she chanted over and over. Catching the dark blue of the helicopter as it landed on the street ahead of her, Teagan cursed. It was Pegasus. The life flight meant that the victim had taken a turn for the worse.
She arrived as a woman was being whisked by on a stretcher to the helicopter and scanned the scene. Her eyes were drawn to the little girl sitting in the corner of the porch, her knees drawn to her chest, trembling. Nodding to her partner, Detective Joey Covington, she headed toward the little victim.
Squatting next to the girl, she started talking. "Hey there, my name is Teagan; what's your name?" she asked, placing her hand on the girl's back.
The child, who couldn't be more than eight, looked up at her, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "Elizabeth," she whispered.
"How old are you, Elizabeth?"
"Seven and a half," she answered.
Teagan nodded. As part of her training to become a Special Victims Detective, she had taken several classes on how to speak to children. Trauma informed care was extremely important, and looking around her at the scene, Teagan knew the girl was traumatized. She sat, silently, next to the girl, her arm draped around her shoulders for a few seconds, simply comforting her with her presence. Feeling the coolness of her skin, she studied her. Her hair had been braided in two very pretty French braids down each side of her head, and she was wearing clean red and black ladybug pajamas. She was clean and well fed, cared for.
"Are you cold?" Teagan removed her coat and draped it over her, the girl's lightweight pajamas no match for the bitter late November wind.
"Okay, Elizabeth, it's time to go," a woman said as she approached them on the porch. Teagan recognized Maria, one of her favorite state caseworkers.
"Maria."
"Teagan."
"Where are you headed?" There were a multitude of places Maria could be taking the girl.
"Hospital. Family local, trying to reach Grandma."
"Ah. Siblings?"
"Two, already in the car. Elizabeth is the oldest, aren't you, sweetheart?" Maria knelt next to them.
"Elizabeth, can you go with my friend now? She is going to take you to be with your mom," Teagan said gently to the girl. Elizabeth nodded her head.
"I'm the oldest. Mom says it is my job to take care of them, keep them safe." Teagan saw the familiar glint of determination in the girl's eyes. She watched her rise, press her shoulders back and, taking Maria's hand, walked toward her car. She was much too young to be dealing with this amount of trauma.
Pushing herself to standing, Teagan looked around once more. Joey was talking to a woman with a small dog on a leash who must be a witness. Her sight fell on a concerning scene. Two young patrolmen had the perpetrator standing between them. They were talking to him as if they were old friends. What in the ever-living hell was going on? Why wasn't he in cuffs? Teagan stomped toward them, knowing her face would dress them down before she opened her mouth. It always did. Two steps away from reaching them, and the suspect took off.
"Where do you think you are going, asshole?" Teagan yelled at the six foot, two-hundred-pound man running down the sidewalk, before taking off after him.
"Fuck!" Joey yelled as he joined the chase.
Teagan got to him first, diving for his knees and taking him down with one textbook tackle. She struggled with him on the ground for a moment, dodging punches until his elbow hit her right in the eye. Adrenaline pulsing through her veins, Teagan let out a growl of frustration, twisted from underneath him, and pushing her knee into the small of his back, she pulled her Taser and pressed it between his shoulder blades.
"Resist, and I will shoot." She knew he wouldn't be able to differentiate between the Taser and her weapon.
"I didn't do anything," he said. Teagan laughed.
"Do you know how many times I've heard that?"
"Fuck you, bitch," the large man growled under her much smaller frame.
"I bet you are itching to hit me, like you did your wife, aren't you? You want to slam your fist right into my face and hear the bones crush under it, just like you did to her."
"Fuck right, I do!" His face turned red, a thick vein becoming visible across his forehead.
"You don't like being bested by a woman, do you? You can't stand it." He started to struggle under her. "Stop struggling, or I will shoot!"
"You're next, bitch. My lawyers will have me out by lunch, and then I'm coming for you."
"You can sure try. Unlike your wife, I am always armed, and I fight back. You wouldn't know what to do with a woman who fought back, would you? You only prey on defenseless women because you are a coward, little boy."
"Little boy? Who are you calling a little boy? I'll show you how much of a man I am when I am riding you like the whore you are."
"Shut your mouth," Joey said, catching up and hearing the last few words. Pulling out his gun, he pointed it at the man on the ground. Teagan holstered her Taser and pulled the cuffs out, making quick work of securing his hands. Rising from her position, she glared at the man on the ground. There was a bit of satisfaction in seeing the blood coming from his nose and chin from where he had hit the concrete when she tackled him.
"Or what? You going to shoot me? I'm an unarmed man. Come on, big boy. Shoot me. I dare you."
"What? No threats for me? You can't handle going toe to toe with a real man," Joey replied.
"I'll tell you what I will do," the man sneered. "I'll let you watch me rape your bitch partner, here."
"Get this asshole out of my sight!" Teagan yelled to the approaching uniform police officers. Once they had him in a squad car, she turned to walk back to the crime scene. Walking past the uniformed officer, she reentered the modest, sunshine yellow rancher. The victim had been life-flighted to a level one trauma center, and her young children were transported to the hospital by another member of the team. Sighing deeply, trying to regain her courage, Teagan readied herself to go into the house.
"It looks like a war scene in here," Joey said, coming up behind her. Teagan pulled on a pair of gloves.
"He wasn't our normal, middle-class domestic violence perp," Teagan said. "He was out of control. He wasn't trying to hit her in a place that wouldn't show. He went out of his way to cause the most amount of injury."
"I hope she lives. Those babies need her," Joey said, and Teagan nodded her agreement. She peered at the picture of a happy family on the walls, father, mother, two children. Mom's hand was resting on her swollen stomach. Although she had a smile plastered on her face, her eyes told another story. Teagan wondered how long the father had been beating her.
"Detective, the victim's mother is here." The officer stuck his head in the front door.
"Don't let her in here," Teagan said. She had to protect the integrity of the crime scene, especially if, God forbid, the woman died. More so, Teagan didn't want the victim's mother to see the blood. There was so much blood.
"You've got this?" Joey was bent over, snapping photos with his cell ph
one. CSI would eventually be on scene, but they would take their own notes and photos for their report.
"Yeah," Teagan agreed. She had the gentler bedside manner when dealing with victims. Joey, while a top-notch detective, was abrupt and could lack empathy with his straight forward, hold no punches, personality.
As she removed the gloves she had just put on, Teagan took a deep breath. This was one of her least favorite parts of her job. At least, I don't have to give a death notification, she thought. Not yet, anyway.
"What is her name?" she asked the officer who had told her of the woman's arrival.
"Um, shit."
"You didn't ask her name?" The look on his young face answered her. "Next time, ask for a name."
"I'm sorry," he started, but Teagan held her hand up.
"It's fine." Scanning the crowd of people that had gathered behind the yellow crime scene tape, Teagan's eyes rested on the older woman wringing her hands.
"Ma'am?" Teagan approached her. "Do you know the family?"
"I'm Janet's mother," the woman answered.
"Please, come with me." Teagan carefully guided her around the tape to a spot under a large tree.
"Please, what is going on?"
"First, can I get your name?"
"Oh. Margaret. My name's Margaret."
"My name is Teagan. I am a detective with the Special Victims Unit. Have you spoken to Janet today?"
"An hour or so ago. She called me in a state of panic. Craig was laid off from his job at the plant and was coming home. She said he sounded upset and asked if I could come get the children. I rushed right over. I left the house so quickly that I forgot my phone there." That explained why Maria hadn't been able to reach her.