“My parents... they may be alive,” I say, looking up into Darcy's big brown eyes. “At least... my father might be.”
Darcy blinks, absorbing the information. “He faked his death?”
I nod. “That's what it seems like. I got a message from a source last night, and Jackson says he confirmed it with Nathan Black. The bomb that went off, it was a ruse. They... they abandoned me.”
The words start fresh tears, more sad than angry and bitter, and I'm crying for the six years of foster care, of the decade of pitiless training, of obsession that I'm still not free of. I wipe at my eyes again, not letting myself lose control. Darcy hums, then gives me an intense look. “So you want my help?”
I nod and fold the hand towel in half to get rid of the snottiness. “Yeah. According to the source, he's living in Miami under the name Michael Ball. Now, I remember you mentioning you've got some connections in Miami. Familywise, even.”
“I do, a few cousins, an ex-boyfriend, too,” Darcy agrees. “You want me to use my resources?”
“Would you? I mean, I'll work my end, but you've got feet on the ground already in Miami.”
“Sure. For you, I'd go to Miami myself and track your daddy down. Can I ask you a question, though?”
“Shoot,” I say, reaching into the laundry basket and taking out the Elmo shirt I screwed up before. The words about my parents out, I find that I'm able to actually fold the shirt halfway decently.
“If this is true... what's that do to your plans?” Darcy asks. “You've been gunnin' for blood for a decade, but is it still worth blood?”
I think about it, then shake my head. “I don't know anymore. I know Peter needs to go down still. The entire DeLaCoeur network needs to be dismantled. But...”
“But you've got complications now,” Darcy says simply, nodding. “You're thinking about what this means to Jackson, to Andrea. And I'm going to be blunt, you're thinking more than just about what you did to Jackson.”
“I… I don't know,” I reply honestly. “It's like you said, complicated. He's an ally, that's for certain. Considering he went toe to toe with Nathan last night in boxing, he deserves at least that much.”
Darcy hums knowingly, and I give her a look. “What?”
“Nothin'. Just glad to see that you're maybe considering that there's more to life than death and revenge. Listen, if you've got a few hours, I can get to work on reaching out to my contacts now. We might have something for you by the time Jeff gets home, he's working a double today.”
“Ouch, double shifts? What's up?”
Darcy shakes her head. “Contract talks are coming up, and a lot of guys are calling out sick because they think the new contracts are going to take away their built-up sick days. Jeff isn't mad though, the day shift's doing community outreach at one of the elementary schools, then just catching up on paperwork. His sergeant's looking out for him.”
“When is Jeff going to go for sergeant?” I ask. He’s a year younger than Darcy at thirty-one, and has been on the NOPD for eight years now, so I'm curious. “And yeah, I can hang out a little bit.”
“Good. And Jeff thinks that maybe a sergeant slot's going to open up pretty soon. He's already a training officer, he thinks he can maybe make a shift sergeant slot as soon as the new fiscal year comes up. A couple of guys are slated to retire, and he's one of the top training corporals. If not, he'll look for an Academy slot, see if he can maybe get a daytime only shift job for a year or two.”
“That'd be nice. With Henry going to preschool soon and all. You sure you don't need more help with him?”
Darcy shakes her head and chuckles. “You know how it is, Kat. I make more than enough with my work that I can afford to spend time with Henry. Besides, I do too much and it starts to look strange to the IRS. Don't need them sniffing my backtrail.”
“You're legit now,” I remark, putting the last of the clothes in the basket. “You really think they'd chase down BlakDhal1A?”
“I think after I cracked a couple of government d-bases three years ago that I haven't told you about totally, they'd chase me for quite a while,” Darcy says. “Come on, let's get these put away, and I'll start making phone calls.”
Darcy's still working her connections when Jeff comes in, his blue on blue uniform causing me to sit upright before I realize who it is. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says, obviously confused. “Uh, you are?”
I get up off the couch, where I've been reading some Clifford the Big Red Dog to Henry, who's more interested in chewing on the foot of his teddy bear than my reading.
“Sorry, I'm Katrina Grammercy. I'm a friend of Darcy's. Nice to meet you.” I offer my hand, which Jeff shakes with a smile.
“It's been too long since I heard your name for the first time. Nice to finally meet the Baby Girl.”
I roll my eyes as Jeff laughs. “Is she going to call me that for the rest of my life?”
“Shit!” we hear from the back of the house, and we both look. Darcy comes out, her brown eyes slightly red with frustration and embarrassment. “Sorry. Sorry Henry, Mommy's just upset.”
Henry mumbles something, turning over. He gets off the couch and comes over to Jeff, his arms out for a hug. Jeff sweeps his son up and into his arms, covering his little face and tummy with kisses. “Daddy silly!”
“You make Daddy silly,” Jeff says, giving his son another hug. “Now, hang out for a second with Kat and let me get this uniform off. You don't need to be messin' with anything Daddy's got on.”
I notice that Jeff's not carrying, and he meets my eyes. “Since Henry was born, I leave it in my cruiser,” he explains. “The take-home policy on the cruiser is a bit expensive, but the neighbors like it, and it's safer for Henry. I can leave both my Smith and my shotgun in the trunk there.”
“Nothing for home defense?” I ask, and Jeff shakes his head. “Wow... gutsy.”
“Not all of us are willing to keep a Glock 18 in our living room,” Jeff replies, telling me he knows more about my operations than he might otherwise have. “Don't sweat it, I understand. Just... be careful with that thing, okay?”
“I am,” I answer, taking Henry from him and holding the squirming little boy, who promptly grabs a handful of my hair and yanks. “Ouch, glad I don't wear earrings either.”
“So what's the cursing about?” I ask, carefully pulling my hair free from Henry's grip as Darcy comes in. He's got strong little hands, and even my two inches of hair stings as he yanks. “You need to get him into arm wrestling ASAP.”
“Don't encourage him,” Darcy says with a chuckle. “But I'm having problems with my contacts. Seems it's been too long since I checked in with them down there, some have moved out, some have dropped out of the game, some are just... not available. And my ex-boyfriend's getting married. Feel bad for whoever that poor girl is.”
“So nothing?” I ask, and Darcy quickly shakes her head. “Well, what then?”
“Something, but it's going to be slow. I don't think you've got the leeway to sit around waiting,” Darcy says, “not with what Peter's surely getting ready to send after you.”
I nod, then shrug, helpless. “Can't do much else. If I have to, I'll go running, take down Peter, then worry about my parents later.”
“Or you could ask for help from someone else,” Jeff says, coming out of the master bedroom. “Darcy, I've never helped you before like this, but you've never asked for it.”
“Wanted to keep you out of trouble,” Darcy replies. “Plausible deniability and all that stuff.”
Jeff comes over and wraps his arms around Darcy's waist from behind, chuckling. “I lost all sense of plausible deniability when I married you, Darce. Besides, this doesn't sound all that risky. What're you looking for?”
“My parents,” I say, and Jeff gives me a questioning look. “Yeah, I thought so too until yesterday. Seems they ghosted on us, and they're in Miami. Darcy's been trying to use her contacts to help me find them.”
“Well, I've got some c
ontacts, too,” Jeff says, going over to the counter and opening his cell phone. “Ones who can legally do what you guys are trying to do.”
Jeff taps at his phone, going over to the couch and sitting down. Darcy and I exchange looks, and she shrugs. She doesn't know what he's doing either. Jeff ignores us for a moment and talks to someone on the other end of the line.
Darcy snaps her fingers in recognition and leans over, whispering. “Gabriel Hawkins, he's an Academy friend of Jeff's, and he's one of the sysadmins for the NOPD's connection with the national crime database.”
I nod and sit down on the carpet while Jeff talks. “Okay, yeah, I'll owe you some barbecue, that's all good. Thanks, man. Sure... name...”
“Michael Ball.”
“Michael Ball, not sure on the spelling of Michael. Age? Between forty-five and fifty claimed.”
“Jeff knows a lot,” I comment, looking at Darcy who nods.
“He's been interested in the case ever since he learned of our friendship. He knows more about the case than most.”
“Just a second, Gabe,” Jeff says, then covers his phone. “Any more information?”
“White male, five-foot-eight, brown/brown, and... he might be a bartender,” I say, recalling everything from memory.
Jeff gives me a thumbs up and uncovers his phone, repeating what I told him. “Yeah, that's what I was thinking, cross-referencing the name with the ABC list of bartender licenses. The ID's false, but probably good enough to get by the ABC. Yeah, you can do that? Cool. No, I'll wait.”
Jeff sets his phone down and gives me a smile. “He's running the search now.”
We wait for a few moments, and Jeff's phone makes some noise, and Jeff picks it up. “Yeah, I'm here, Gabe. Really? Three hits in the Dade and Broward counties? Yeah, send me their info, I'll pass it along. Honest man, I'm not making a dime off this, this is a favor to a friend. Thanks, Gabe, I owe you.”
Jeff hangs up, then waits a minute until his phone buzzes. “Here you go,” he says, reading the message. “Three matching that description in the area. Two of them are listed as married. How do you want it?”
“I'll write it down myself. You don't need any more of an electronic trail on this than you've already got. Jeff, you're sticking your neck out on this one.”
He nods, and passes his phone over to me. Darcy brings me a piece of paper and a pen, and I start copying the three addresses down. “Any phone numbers?”
“He could get them, but I figure you've got those skills. As to your comment, well, I've broken the rules before with Darcy, just not like this. It's about justice, and sometimes the law and justice don't always see eye to eye,” Jeff says, sitting back. “Now, I've got one more question for you.”
“Sure, what's that?” I ask, tucking the folded paper in my pocket and handing the phone back to Jeff.
“You staying for dinner or not? No offense, but you're skinny as a rail, and I'm pretty sure that we can scrape up something that'll put a little meat on your bones.”
I laugh and sit back, nodding. “Fine. But you know that saying, whether it’s true or not. We can never be too rich or too thin.”
Jeff rolls his eyes and looks over at his wife. “I see why you like her.”
Darcy, who's playing with Henry, hums her assent and smiles. “She's got skills, too. You should be careful, hun. You push her too far, you may end up using your sick time actually being sick, as in recovering from a broken arm.”
I give Jeff a wink, and the cop in him blanches slightly. “Don't worry, I haven't had to break an arm in months.”
“Uh... so what do you like on your pizza?”
Henry, hearing the word pizza, looks over, cheering. “Yay! Pizza!”
I look over at Henry, who's got two little fists jammed into the air, a giant smile on his face. “I think whatever he wants works for me.”
Chapter 16
Jackson
“So... three names?”
I'm in extreme pain, something I didn't think could happen with working out anymore. But this is the good sort of pain, the pain of hard work.
I'm trying to balance on just my hands, my legs resting on Katrina's shoulders while she stands and I do incline pushups. The burning is mostly in my stomach area, which has to hold everything in a totally straight line from my ankles to my shoulders, or else. I found out the hard way what 'or else' was a while back when Katrina kicked me in the stomach. Thankfully she didn't kick me too hard, since it was just meant as a warning when I let my back sag.
“Twenty. And yeah, three names,” she says, keeping a silent count as I start my next descent. Each pushup is timed, three seconds down, hold for two, then an explosive push up. And apparently, this is just the warmup. “Jeez Jackson, I thought you'd have gotten more functional muscle with all that mass you're carrying.”
“Didn't... think... I was deficient,” I grunt as I hold my down position, my forehead a fraction of an inch off the floor. I push, exhaling and grunting. “Did fine before.”
“All right, twenty-one's enough, relax and shake out. I'll use my chair for mine.”
Katrina squats down so that I can pull my legs off her shoulders, and goes over to the chair she's talking about. She kicks her legs up and does the same thing I just finished, the only difference being the height of her legs. Most women I know can't even do twenty regular pushups. Katrina, in one of the sexiest displays of feminine fitness I've ever seen, cranks out the twenty timed and elevated pushups like they're nothing. When she brings her legs down, she looks up and sees that I'm staring. “What?”
“Uh... nothing,” I say, taking a swig of water. Still, she blushes a little, and I feel heat rise in my own cheeks. In the days since joining forces, we've grown closer again, and I'm realizing that my feelings for her are more than just friendly. The problem is, we’re not twelve anymore, and I have a lot more on my mind than building model cars. I shake my head and sip my water again. “What's next?”
“Jackson...”
“Don’t even start,” I say, cutting her off. “We're doing this together. If for no other reason that I want to make sure you've got someone watching your back.”
She gives me a look, and I shake my head and stick out my hand. “I told you, Katrina. We're partners on this. After what he did to you, after what he's done to so many others, Peter needs his comeuppance.”
Katrina thinks, then nods. “And what is that comeuppance, Jackson? You know if I take him down, that means jail time for him.”
“Fine,” I say, and she arches an eyebrow. “What?”
“What I have evidence on... it means freezing his assets too if he gets arrested. Jackson, you've made tremendous strides, but are you ready to give up the money, too?”
Katrina, in her normal way, has pierced right to the heart of what's been troubling me. When I think about it, of course, I don't want the dirty blood money. Thinking about what it's come from, and what it's done to other people, especially what it's done to Katrina, makes my blood boil.
But at night, when I've been lying on Egyptian cotton sheets that cost a few thousand dollars, and a mattress that cost several thousand more, or when I woke up this morning and put on an outfit that probably cost more than what Katrina makes in an average month... I can't help but admit that I like living the good life. I like driving a one-year-old Audi, and eating the best food I can. I like having the bling, and the comfort of knowing that even with a psycho asshole for a father, I can still have money.
So yeah, I'm torn. But still, looking at Katrina, I know what to say. “We'll take him down, Katrina. We can discuss the details later. First, let's use those finances to get to Miami and take care of finding your parents first.”
I can see she’s not happy, but she nods in acceptance, like she expected this from me. It hurts, but I can't lie to her. Too many people have lied to her already, and I won't be a part of that.
“Okay,” she says after a moment. “Well let's finish up, and we can discuss travel plans.”
Back home, I find Nathan in his workshop, where he gives me a knowing smile as I make my way inside and take a seat. “How go the new workouts?”
“Painfully,” I groan. “Tell me you did rougher stuff in the Green Berets.”
“Doubtful,” Nathan replies, going over to his tea collection. “Remember, we weren't as motivated. Dedication and fanaticism are just a hair's breadth apart sometimes. Here, this should help. It's a blend that has plenty of antioxidants and a good shot of caffeine. And it tastes pretty damn good, too.”
He mixes the tea and brings me a steaming mug, which I sip. It's got a fruity tang to it, and I hum in appreciation. “Good shit.”
“Thanks. Technically, it's not actually tea at all, but an herbal blend. I like it enough to keep it with my others, though. So what did you want to see me for?”
“I need some misdirection,” I say, setting the tea aside. “For a trip.”
“Oh really? And where would this trip be?” Nathan's unscarred eye twinkles in good humor as he asks me, then grows serious. “I'm asking because I need to know how much of a distraction I need to provide.”
“Multiple days, maybe four or even a week. We think we've found Sam Grammercy.”
Nathan thinks, then nods. “The only way I'll be able to pull that off convincingly is if I know where you're going, Jackson. I don't need exact details, but something more than just that you're taking off for four or five days.”
I sigh, thinking. Would Katrina trust Nathan? Do I? Finally, I take the plunge. He's already risked his life just delaying and lying to Peter for this long, and if it helps Katrina, then so be it. “South Florida. We're thinking Miami, maybe.”
Nathan nods again and sips at his tea. “One more thing. For the past few days now, you keep using the pronoun 'we’. I want to caution you, Jackson. Your emotions are becoming cloudy in this.”
“This is an emotional situation, Nathan. You have to admit that.”
“I do,” Nathan says, then sighs. “You know, I never have told anyone in this family exactly why I left the military. Or at least, the real reason.”
Revenge: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 12