by Freya Barker
I sense more than see Damian tense up at the foot of the bed, and the wiggling of Marya’s fingers in my hand tells me he’s not the only one. I release my hold on her and she carefully flexes her hand. “Anyway,” she continues with a wry smile. “I’m the one who told him where you live. I said you’d found a great place with a one-year lease and that I could find out who your realtor was.” She pauses for a moment. “That’s the first time he made me feel a little uncomfortable. It was right after he said he hoped we could keep our connection quiet a little longer. Suggested that he’d prefer spending a little time really getting to know me, without other people crowding our space. But right after that, he suggested perhaps I could show him your place to get an idea of what is on the market. At the time, I remember it seemed a bit odd, but I liked him. I wanted him to like me. So I drove him out there.” Marya’s furiously licking her lips, and I try to hide my shaking hand as I grab the cup of water and bring the straw to her lips. “Thank you,” she says, sending a quick, tentative look at Damian. “When we drove up, he asked if I ever looked after your place when you weren’t there. If I had a spare key, he could maybe have a quick look around. I was a little shocked and told him I didn’t have one. He easily waved it off, and we left right after. He never talked about it again. I honestly didn’t think too much of it. Then he asked me about your schedule, where you were and how long you’d be. He started coming into the store while you were gone, and I thought it was because he wanted to see me but wasn’t ready to be seen with me, you know?” I nod encouragingly, even though outright fear is running through my veins. Both for Marya and myself. “It wasn’t until the night I walked in on him while he was on his computer, that I realized I’d been used. He hit me,” she cries, disbelief in her eyes. “Next thing I know, I was in a different hotel room from his. He has a suite at the Hilton.”
“Do you know if he’s registered there as Trevor Simms?” Damian asks. His voice is gentle, but I can hear the steel underneath.
“The desk clerk called him by that name the one time he had to stop in the lobby to pick up some mail. I only knew him as Trevor. The other few times I was with him at the hotel, we went straight to the outside door to his suite. It was on the main level.”
“Hold on one sec please, Marya. I have to give Detective Blackfoot a quick call.” Damian rushes into the hallway, his phone already to his ear.
When the door closes, I turn back to look at my friend, whose face is riddled with guilt.
“I am so sorry, Kerry. The thought I may have...” I don’t let her finish the thought.
“Listen,” I say firmly. “That’s enough with the apologies. You had no way to know.” She barks out a harsh laugh.
“I should’ve known that a sophisticated man like that would have an ulterior motive for spending time with a single mother of three.”
DAMIAN
“I have a name and a location,” I inform Keith the moment he picks up his phone. “Trevor Simms, staying at the—”
“Hilton,” Keith finishes, taking me completely by surprise. “His body is on the way to the morgue with a bullet lodged in his brain. Apparent suicide. Identification was in his pocket. Here’s the kicker, though. The file Ella handed out at that first meeting? This guy’s picture was in there.”
“Let me guess.” I take a wild shot this time. “Troy Sinclair?”
“Got it in one. I have a feeling things are coming to a head. I’m on my way now, be there in ten. Coroner won’t get to him until tomorrow morning, and I want to talk with you before we notify the rest of the task force.”
“Gotcha.”
I know why he wants to talk to me in person. Only a few know about Marya’s hospitalization, and Keith apparently wants to keep it like that for now. There is something about this scenario that is too neat, and therefore it raises the hair on my neck. There’s still the matter of the government-issued electronics we discovered. Not something that is easy to come by.
When I get back in the room, after checking in with Jasper and my sister for a minute, it looks like Marya is asleep. Kerry doesn’t look too far off, as she’s lain her head on the mattress and her eyes are at half-mast.
“Come on. Let’s get something to eat or a coffee or something,” I suggest. It’s almost three in the afternoon, and we haven’t had anything since breakfast.
“I don’t want to leave her.”
“You won’t be far. I’ll pick up something for all of us in the cafeteria, and we’ll get Jasper to sit with her while we eat. Come on, Kerry.” I reach my hand out to her, and after a brief pause, she grabs on.
I leave her with Bella in the waiting room while Jasper goes in to sit with Marya. I just piled a selection of food and drinks on a tray and am heading for the cash register when I spot Blackfoot heading my way.
“Let me grab a coffee and sit with me outside,” he suggests. The hospital cafeteria is on the lower level and has a few tables outside in a rock garden with a feature waterfall. By my guess, he picks that spot in hopes the sound of the falling water will wash out anything we say.
“Tell me,” he says as he sits down across from me. “How likely is it that someone intent on killing themselves would fire a practice shot into a tree before drilling a bullet into his own brain?”
“Not very,” I admit. “More likely scenario would be that someone wanted to make it look like a suicide and understands enough about forensics to know that one of the first things we’d check for is gunshot residue on the victim’s hands.”
“Those were my thoughts. Another inconsistency is that the victim had his iPhone tucked in his sleeve, clutching the cuff in his hand. The phone opened to a voice recorder app. Unfortunately, if it had been his intent to record, he wasn’t successful. Other than a three second recording of footsteps crunching through underbrush, there’s nothing else.” Keith takes a sip of his coffee before he pins me with a look.
“So murder,” I confirm.
“Murder,” he echoes. “I made a quick stop at the Hilton to see if something would jump out at me in his suite, but it looked like housekeeping had been in already. Browns and his guys are going over it with a fine-tooth comb, but as you know, hotel rooms are teeming with fingerprints and DNA. It’s not likely we’ll be able to find anything useable, but we’ve got to try.”
“You know this has to be shared with the task force.”
“I know,” he concedes easily, before he leans over the table. “But I want to keep one piece of evidence back.”
“The phone.”
“Bingo. I can’t get over those high-tech electronics. All of this seems too convenient. For now, I want as few people as possible to have all the information, and the phone could be key to pinpointing who that might be. I want to have twenty-four hours to dig up any possible evidence it hides before I hand it over.”
I take a minute to consider. “You know it could cost us our jobs,” I point out.
“Me,” he jumps in quickly. “It will cost me my job, because you’ll be just as surprised as the rest of them. You’ll be in a better position to gauge everyone’s reaction, because one thing’s for sure: the appearance of that piece of evidence is going to scare the fuck out of whoever might be involved.”
“James will likely snatch it up and send it to the main lab in Quantico,” I point out the most likely scenario.
“And I think James will clue in quickly on why I held it back when I hand over the bugs at the same time. He’s a smart man. I’m guessing he’ll want to keep a close eye on the evidence. He’ll hand it to Boris to examine in his crime lab. And he’ll be breathing down his neck the whole time.”
“You don’t think it’s James.” The relief I feel at that conclusion lifts a weight off my shoulders. James has not only been my boss since I joined the FBI but has become a friend, too.
“I don’t. Mind you, I have a hard time considering anyone for this. It could still be someone lower on the totem pole, or we could be missing the boat completely, but something makes me highly
doubt it.”
I watch Keith run his hand through his hair and notice how tired he looks. I’m probably not much better off.
“I’m going to lay low for the next day or so. If you need me urgently, leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you. I want some time to find out what I can before I’m pulled into a meeting.”
“Fair enough. I’m going to bring this food up, and then I’m taking Kerry and Bella home. The longer we stay here, the higher the chance of someone clueing in,” I say as I stand and grab the tray of food.
“I’ll come up with you. I want to check on Marya.” Keith gets up without looking at me. I don’t say a thing, just lead the way up to her floor.
“I’M GOING TO HAVE TO go back out,” I tell Kerry when we get out of Bella’s car.
We followed the same routine leaving the hospital as we did coming, with me in the back seat of Bella’s car and Jasper driving my Expedition. We left Keith in charge of Marya, and the only way I managed to get Kerry out of there was with Keith’s promise he would make sure she would be protected at all times. Marya herself had urged Kerry to go, said she felt guilty enough for what happened, she couldn’t handle the thought of Kerry taking any more risks because of her.
Still, it had been the promise of an armed guard that finally swayed the stubborn woman.
“Don’t let me stop you,” she snaps. I’m thinking maybe she’s being lighthearted, but when I look over, she’s displaying some serious attitude. Her head is tilted to the side, and there’s a real challenge in her eyes.
Without a word, I firmly grab her upper arm and march her straight inside and up the stairs, ignoring her loud objections. I close the bedroom door behind us before I let her go.
“What the hell, Damian?” she protests, rubbing her arm. “Manhandling me under control? What an idiot I’ve been—”
“Shut up, Kerry. Let me enlighten you. I’m busting my balls here to do everything I can to keep you safe, and that means keeping you physically out of danger, while at the same time focusing on the investigation, so I can eliminate any threat. You were run off the road, your friend was assaulted so bad she needed surgery, and now we have a man dead.” I hear Kerry’s sharp intake of breath at that bit of news, but I forge ahead. “If I could be in two places at one time, believe me, that would make my life a fuck of a lot easier. But I don’t have that option. Instead, I’ve broken rules and I’ve likely broken trusts these past few weeks, because for the first fucking time in my life, someone means more to me than my damn job. It’s eating at me, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat, Kerry—for you.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath and try to calm myself down. I continue with a little less volume. “What I don’t need is you giving me attitude. I know you’re scared. I know you’re frustrated, and I know you feel you have no control. But what you don’t seem to realize is that I’m doing whatever I need to do to make sure that situation is as temporary as I can make it.”
I force myself to turn away from Kerry, who has slumped down on the edge of the bed under my tirade with her head bent low and her hair falling forward, hiding her face.
“I’ve gotta go,” I say over my shoulder. “Don’t wait up.”
CHAPTER 21
Kerry
I feel small.
I sit here and listen to his boots thumping down the stairs, without moving. I want to call him back, tell him I’m sorry, that I didn’t mean to give him a hard time, but the truth is: I was a bitch.
He’s right, I’m scared, tired, and mentally exhausted, and I fully took it out on him. Then to add insult to injury, I painted him with my ex’s legacy. Accusing him of something I know in my heart is not him at all. If anything, he’s done everything to leave me my self-worth. To keep me in the loop and not make me feel I was being managed—controlled.
I lie down and curl myself around the pillow. His pillow. My eyes burn with the tears that want to fall, but it’s almost like I’m too tired to cry. Or maybe there’s been enough crying already, I don’t know. All I know is I wish for them to fall, to relieve the pressure behind my eyes, and maybe wash away some of the guilt that’s choking me. A man is dead. He didn’t say who or what; I should’ve asked because now my mind is imagining who it might be. I can only hope Damian stays safe, because if something happens to him, and these are the last words we ever exchange...
I vaguely hear Bella come into the room, but I keep my eyes firmly closed, feigning sleep, until I hear the door gently close again. The soft click of the latch works like a trigger, and the tears slowly start rolling down my face.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT TIME it is. Sometime well after dark since moonlight appears to be streaming in through the uncovered windows. The mattress dips behind me and an arm snakes around my body, pulling me back against the broad expanse of a chest. Damian’s familiar scent wards off any panic I might feel.
“I’m sorry.” His low voice rumbles against the shell of my ear and settles deep in my chest. A new surge of tears washes the remnants of my earlier ones away, as I turn around and bury my face in his neck. His apology only serves to make me feel even more guilty than I did when I finally cried myself to sleep.
“I didn’t m—mean it,” I sniffle against his skin.
“I know that. I knew it then and still overreacted, which is why I’m the one to be sorry.” He shifts his head back a little and looks at me. His dark eyes are soft and convey a slew of emotions. I don’t even try to identify them, too afraid I won’t be able to get my tears under control. “You’ve been crying,” he says, following it up with a mumbled expletive.
Instead of trying to deny it, I place my hand against his face. “I’m done now. How are you?” He rolls onto his back, pulling my arm across him and covering my hand on his chest with his.
“Tired to the bone,” he sighs. “I only have a few hours before I’m expected back at the office for a briefing.”
“The dead man?” I inquire.
“Among other things. The identification in his pockets was a credit card and driver’s license in the name of Trevor Simms, but in a side pocket of his wallet was a stack of bank cards, as well as a British driver’s license in the name of Troy Sinclair.”
A shiver runs down my spine. “It’s not over, is it?”
“Not by a long shot,” he says solemnly. “It was made to look like a suicide, but there were some things that didn’t add up. Technically, this investigation should be handed over to the task force because of the man’s identity, but Keith is keeping as close a rein on it as he can for now. That will all change in a few hours. We’ve not shared anything the past day or so, but we can’t keep a lid on a murder or on the fact we found Marya. And once that comes out, so will the discovery of the camera and the listening devices.”
“Why? Why keep that a secret?” I want to know, struggling to keep up with the sudden flow of information.
Damian turns back on his side, taking my face in his hands before he answers. “Because there is a possibility someone in law enforcement may have been involved, someone with access to top-of-the-line electronics, who might even be close to the investigation.”
“That’s why you said you’d broken rules and trust,” I deduce, sounding much calmer than I feel. I’m terrified, even more so than I was before, and it dawns on me that I’m way out of my league here. Damian picks up on my rising panic, stroking his thumbs along my eyebrows.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispers with his lips against mine. “I’ll make it okay.”
I don’t have time to respond before his tongue slips between my lips, slowly stroking mine to life. One of his hands leaves my face and slides down to pull my knee up over his hip. The rough calluses on my skin, as he brushes his hand along my thigh to my butt, stoke a fire. His long fingers knead my flesh, drawing a low moan from deep in my throat. My own hands move restlessly over his shoulders and down his back, registering every ridge and dip of his muscles.
“Stop me,” he almost pleads when he pulls his mouth away, using
teeth and tongue to caress along my jaw.
“Do you want me?” I utter breathlessly.
“I fucking need you, Gypsy, but I’ll stop at your say-so.”
“Not a chance in hell,” I declare. I don’t even consider he has to be up for his meeting in a few hours. Not when his mouth latches on to my breast like a starving man. Not when the expression on his face as he slides inside my body reflects the utter bliss I’m sure is visible on mine.
DAMIAN
“You’ve got to leave?”
Kerry’s sleepy voice greets me as I walk into the bedroom, a cup of coffee in my hand. She looks flushed with sleep and sex. A great combination on her.
It takes everything out of me not to strip off the clothes I just pulled on and climb back under the sheets with her, but the sooner we can get a handle on this investigation, the sooner I can start working on getting the stunning woman in my bed to stay there permanently. Instead, I sit down on the edge and set the coffee on the nightstand.
“I’ll call as soon as I’m out of the meeting,” I promise her.
She pushes herself into a sitting position, regrettably holding on tight to the sheet. “I’m going to have to do something about the store. I need to go in.”
“Babe, I think you should keep the store closed until we get this sorted out. I’ll have a better idea after the meeting this morning,” I explain.
“I know, but it’s going to hurt my business if people keep knocking on the door or calling and no one is there. At least let me scoot over quickly and put up a sign and forward my calls to my cell phone. I can even grab my laptop from home in a flash, so I can take care of my online store to some degree.”
She’s hard to resist, making sense while she’s naked in my bed. Fucking hell.
“Let me check in with Luna. If she calls you from the store, can you walk her through forwarding to your cell?”
“Yes, it’s not that hard. But what about—”