Her Fierce SEAL: Midnight Delta Book 6

by Caitlyn O'Leary

  “Liu. Albert and Jiang Liu.”

  “The Liu’s. They would have been helping to coordinate the sale and the entrance and exit of the babies. I want to know everything about those men.”

  “Fuck. I should have thought about that. I’m sure Rylie, Clint, and Lydia have.”

  “How are they connected to you? Do you have female SEALs?”

  “There are six SEALs who comprise the Midnight Delta team. Four of my teammates have women. They–”

  “Women? Isn’t that a bit of an archaic term?” What was it about the way she drawled the word archaic that got his motor running, Finn wondered?

  “Sophia is the wife of my lieutenant. Beth, Lydia, and Rylie are engaged to be married to Jack, Clint, and Darius. Lydia is phenomenal with computers and so is Rylie. They have worked on this case to try and stop the human traffickers. We met Rylie when she was working undercover to stop this operation on her own.”

  “Wait, she wasn’t always working with y’all?”

  “No, it’s a long story. Suffice it to say, she was embroiled in stopping the Lius when we met her. But I’m getting off track. It’s Clint, Rylie, and Lydia who have been doing most of the legwork on reuniting the mothers and children. But the last time I talked to them, they thought Dasha was still in New York. Why is Dasha so fanatical about not having the government work with her? I thought she liked Rylie and Lydia.”

  “Finn, I think she does like Lydia and Rylie. They’re the ones who reunited her with her uncle. She doesn’t trust governments, and I get the feeling it has something to do with her past in the Ukraine. As soon as she could, she and Sergei left New York.”

  “I still don’t get it. Wouldn’t she want to stay and see if someone could find out information about Yulia?”

  “According to Sergei, some agents came and questioned her at his apartment. They came while he was gone. How she described them, they sounded like CIA or FBI. They scared the hell out of her. Dasha and Sergei left town the next day.”

  “This shit just keeps getting weirder. But I understand why you want the info on the Liu’s. You’re right, they would have been involved in getting Yulia smuggled out of Canada.” Finn looked at Angie. She looked a little mussed up from their walk in the park, her curls were wild, and white blouse was molded to her body. She looked too innocent to hear all of the horrors of the trafficking.

  “Why are you hesitating?”

  “It’s pretty ugly.”

  “I’ve worked on ugly cases in the past,” she said calmly. “Unfortunately, this profession has allowed me to see the monsters in the closet.”

  “What’s your e-mail?” She gave it to him. He pulled up the relevant files and e-mailed them to her. “This is enough to get you started. In the meantime, I’m going to go back to my apartment and start looking at this from the angle you just provided,” he said as he stood up.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  He paused on his way to the door of her office. “Sure.”

  “Why are you here and not with your friends?”

  “I needed some space,” he clipped out the words. She got the message.

  “Okay. When will I see you again?”

  “Why don’t you call me after you’ve had a chance to go over all of the information in the files. I figure you’ll have questions, and we can discuss them.”

  He had one foot out the door when she said his name again. His shoulders slumped, and he turned around. “Yes?”

  “This is a lot of information; it’ll take me a while. I would like to talk to you before I’m done with it. Can we meet for dinner tomorrow?” She smiled at him calmly. She knew what she was doing. He’d made it clear that he needed space, but she was pushing to see him tomorrow night anyway. He sighed.

  “All right.”

  “I need a way to reach you.”

  “You have my e-mail.”

  “What happens if something with Dasha comes up and I need to reach you immediately?” she asked sweetly.

  He came back to her desk and grabbed a post-it and pen, and quickly scribbled on it. Then he pasted it on her computer screen. “Here’s my IM and my phone number.”

  He walked out before she could stop him again. Pushy woman.

  ***

  There wasn’t enough ice cream in the world to handle this. Angie sat on her loveseat with all of the lights on in her house. She had foregone the bowl and poured the chocolate syrup directly into the carton of vanilla ice cream. The faint taste of salt in the mixture, made her realize she was crying again. She set it aside.

  “Sink, Angela,” she admonished herself, as she saw the carton drip on her coffee table. She didn’t give a shit, let it stain the wood. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her Texas Longhorn sweatshirt.

  The notes had been put together by Lydia, Rylie, and Clint, and were for the Midnight Delta team members. However, they also included some of the official reports provided to Navy Command. It had gone back as far as when they first tracked the slavers in Mexico over a year ago.

  There were no personal notes when it came to Lydia and Beth Hidalgo’s involvement with the sex traffickers, but the official records explained how their original kidnapping in the Mexican jungle precipitated the case in British Columbia.

  Later, there were comprehensive notes by Clint, Rylie, and Lydia detailing the operation in British Columbia. From Clint’s perspective, it was so he could make a report to his commander. For the women, it was so they could best figure out how to help the girls assimilate after they were rescued.

  Step by step, they outlined the horror of the human trafficking of women from all over the world. The operation in British Columbia might have been centered around Eastern European women, but what Angie read showed how South, Central, and North American women had been targeted as well. Also, there were Asian women who had been brought over in shipping containers. When Angie read the part where Jiang Liu had ordered one of shipping containers of women be shoved over the side of a cargo ship, she literally rushed to the bathroom to throw up. That had been this morning.

  What had her crying tonight was when she realized the Liu’s had been at this for countless years. How many thousands of women had been bought, sold, and killed? How many babies had been ripped out of their mother’s arms?

  “Okay, Angela, you need to get it together.” She threw the carton of ice cream in the sink. She looked at the clock over the stove. Just after midnight.

  She thought long and hard. She really shouldn’t need anyone to talk to. What was the family motto? Or at least the motto for little Angela? Suck it up, buttercup. You hold yourself up by your bootstraps. But maybe if she called to talk about the case he wouldn’t realize that she was looking for comfort as well.

  She’d take a chance. Worse thing that happened is he didn’t answer. Finn? She typed into her instant message.

  You okay, Angie? Came the immediate response. She sat there stunned. She read the words three times. Never in her life had someone, not even family, shown such immediate and unconditional concern. Then she shrugged it off. It was just because Finn was one of life’s born protectors. It wasn’t anything personal.

  Fine. She paused. Having some ice cream. Reading notes.

  Strawberry?

  No. Vanilla with chocolate sauce. Why did you think strawberry?

  Never mind. Why are you eating ice cream in the middle of the night? It’s the reports, isn’t it?

  Yes.

  She stared at the blank screen, wondering why it was taking him so long to respond.

  Are you done reading everything?

  Almost. I read Mason’s report where you killed Albert, and Darius killed Jiang.

  That made you need to eat ice cream?

  God no. That was the first thing that made me smile. I’m the one that pulled a gun on you, remember? I’m a Texan. Of course, that made me smile.

  Why are you eating ice cream in the middle of the night? Because I have a mother and a sister. I know this means yo
u’re upset.

  She wasn’t touching that question with a ten-foot pole.

  Where would you like to go for dinner tomorrow? What do you like to eat? Angie asked, changing the subject.

  Her phone rang.

  She blew her nose before she answered it.

  “Hello, Finn.”

  “We can eat fried mustard for all I care. Are you crying?” he demanded. His voice was deep and masculine, it had a hint of gravel in it. Given the right circumstances, his voice would make her shiver. Tonight she would take comfort from it.

  “Answer me, Angie, are you crying?”

  “Maybe,” her voice wobbled.

  “Tell me why.”

  “I started to calculate how long they had been in business...” her voice trailed off.

  “I’ve tried not to think about it. I know Rylie looked for records, but she couldn’t find any.” She heard the pain in his voice.

  “I like her. I like everybody I read about.” She sniffed. “It’s not like I haven’t been in the middle of bad shit before. But there was always a beginning, middle and end. Even though sometimes those ends were horrific.” Her voice broke on that last word.

  “Angie? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just another bad thing to think about. I guess I’ll be sleeping with all the lights on and the gun under my pillow. Not the first time. Look, I need to go.”

  “Don’t hang up.” She hesitated her finger over the ‘end’ button.

  “I need to sleep, Finn. There’s no reason for you to be up trying to console me. I’m fine really. Nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t fix.” There, her voice had sounded almost perky.

  “I hadn’t really considered it, but you must sometimes see some bad shit as a P.I.,” he said softly as if he had just considered it.

  “Not on this scale.” She had trouble keeping her voice from breaking.

  “We got the bad guys. Take solace from that.”

  “I’m trying to.” She twisted the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

  “Did you find any new angles?” he finally asked.

  “Not yet. I think I need a day or two to distance myself.” It was time to shut this shit down.

  “What time should I pick you up for dinner?” Finn asked.

  “Let’s just skip it,” she wouldn’t be able to put on a happy face, and she hated the idea of him seeing her vulnerable.

  “No way. I’ll just hunt you down, now what time?”

  Angie looked at her phone. She kept forgetting she was dealing with an alpha male. “I guess seven. Finn, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “You don’t smile. Is it because of all of this?” There was dead silence on the phone. After almost a minute, she finally spoke again. “So no comment on the smile question.”

  “I thought that was obvious,” he said heavily.

  “Thanks for the call, I’ll e-mail you my address. Hopefully, we’ll be able to smile at dinner.”

  ***

  It was the first time in weeks that Finn was able to sleep. Maybe because he had something to actually look forward to. He got up the next morning, worked out, and then went for a fifteen-mile run. It felt like he was running through the jungle with the humidity. It was good for him, he thought as he gritted his teeth the last mile.

  The team had been on six missions in the jungle since the harrowing one where they marched for five days carrying the Hidalgo’s through Mexico. But every time Finn even thought the word jungle all he could think about was Beth and Lydia being brutalized by the men of the cartel. When he got to the apartment, he stripped off his sweat-drenched clothes and let the shower pound down on him, trying to remind himself that the two women were safe, protected, healed and loved.

  After the shower, he had gotten himself together and grabbed a protein shake. He checked his e-mail to see if Declan had sent him any information regarding Dasha’s case. He knew his friend, it wouldn’t matter that he was in Paraguay, now that his curiosity was piqued he’d have his minions looking into Dasha’s case. There wasn’t anything this morning, but Finn knew eventually there would be something.

  He sat down and continued to read through the files with a new perspective. Angie really was a genius. Not only would Liu have been involved in the selling of Dasha’s child, but he would also have set up the network of selling the infants. Therefore, figuring out how he thought and operated would be integral in finding the five remaining buyers.

  “I bet you’re a good P.I.,” Finn mumbled aloud.

  He was taking notes, and not paying attention to anything besides his scribbling and the computer when his alarm rang.

  “Fuck.” How had it already come to be almost six p.m.?

  He needed another shower, and his clothes needed to be ironed, but he hadn’t found one in the apartment. He dragged his slacks and dress shirt into the bathroom with him and hoped that the steam would get some of the wrinkles out. He’d have to make a Target run at some point in the near future.

  When he got dressed, he looked in the mirror and was satisfied with how he looked.

  What the hell? This is a business dinner, Crandall, who cares how you look?

  He grabbed his keys and headed for Angie’s house. She lived in an older part of town that had been through a restoration. Her house was far back from the street and looked like it had been built in the thirties. As he walked up the steps, Finn could see that there were motion detectors on the property, of which he approved. Angie took her security seriously.

  He knocked on the door, and she opened it. He was glad that he had chosen to dress up. She was wearing strappy heels and a fashionable sundress. She was a knockout.

  “Would you like to come in?”

  “Do you still have to get ready?” he asked.

  “No. I like to be on time. But I figured you might like to take a load off, have a beer or something before we take off.”

  “Depends on what you have.”

  “I have friends from California. I have Shiner Bock, of course. I have Blue Moon, and I picked up some Pacifico today.” He nodded in appreciation.

  “I would love to come in and take a load off.”

  She grinned and ushered him in. He looked around and was surprised.

  “It’s neat.”

  “I really am kind of a neat freak. The office was an anomaly. Automating those files has been a bitch.”

  Finn liked the idea that she was organized. It made sitting down in her home more relaxing. She must have known because she grinned.

  “Oh God, you’re OCD too, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He watched as she headed over to the kitchen. He liked the open floor plan of the house, it allowed him to study Angie as she moved around. She was beautiful to watch.

  She came back holding two beers.

  “I didn’t tell you which one I wanted,” he said as she handed him the Pacifico.

  “I’m an investigator. It’s my job to know these things.” She sat down beside him and started drinking her Shiner Bock, he liked that she drank from the bottle, it was sexy.

  “Tell me about yourself, Finn.”

  “I’m from Minnesota originally.”

  “Do you like winters? Did you play ice hockey?”

  “To a point, and yes.”

  “What do you mean to a point?” She set down her beer on a coaster and pushed one over for him as well.

  “When winter would last for five months, it was no longer enjoyable.” He took another sip of beer and watched her digest that information.

  “Sounds like a Texas summer. After a month of living in air conditioning, it’s no fun.”

  “Have you always lived in Texas?”

  “I lived in Paris for a year. And no, not Paris, Texas, I mean Paris, France.” It was easy to imagine her drinking a glass of wine in a Parisian café with some man.

  “What took you over there?”

  Angie picked her beer back up and settled b
ack against the couch. “A professor arranged for me to get a job over there. I worked as an assistant to a Texas lawyer. I was pre-law at U.T., and I had taken a couple of years of French as well.”

  “You were pretty young. Didn’t you miss your family?”

  “Pops came and visited me, but it was the same time as the Monte Carlos Grand Prix so I think that might have had something to do with it.” He could hear the wistful tone in her voice. He put his hand on hers on the back of the couch. She looked up at him, startled.

  “What about your parents?”

  “They were busy.” She hid it well, but he heard the sadness in her voice. “It was a great adventure.” She took another sip of her beer and gave him a perky smile. It was fake, but he knew better than to call her on it, time to change the subject.

  “When did you get into the family business?”

  “When I came back from Paris.” She smiled.

  “You didn’t go to law school?”

  “Nah. After working for Barney, I realized I didn’t want to be a lawyer. Too much structure. I’d been hearing stories from Pops for years about his cases. Dad was a lot more closemouthed. But Pops always talked. He didn’t make it sound glamorous or anything, but he made it sound like you had to use common sense, and every day was a different challenge. I liked that.”

  “What did your dad say when you said you wanted to join the firm?”

  “He said I needed to gain experience, and not with him. I went to work for Pinkerton.”

  “Isn’t that the agency that was started in the eighteen hundreds?”

  “Yep. They’re international. I learned a lot. They sent me back to France on a couple of assignments. I stayed with them for five years. I was really looking forward to working with Dad, but in the end, he just retired and handed the reins to me. We never did end up working together,” she said wistfully.

  “He didn’t train you personally?”

  “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. He stayed with me for five weeks before retiring. He’s now playing golf almost full-time. He said he wanted to do this while he still had a scratch handicap. Mom loves it, he plays all over the United States, and she calls herself his camp follower.” Finn couldn’t believe it. The man didn’t give his daughter any more time than that? What the hell?