SECOND CHANCES
Reuniting
&
Reckoning
CALLE J. BROOKES
The Lost River Literary name and imprint are the sole properties of independent publishers Calle J. Brookes and B.G. Lashbrooks. They cannot be reproduced or used in any manner; nor can any of their publications or designs be used without expressed written permission. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, or locations, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
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SECOND CHANCES
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Reuniting Copyright ©2012 Calle J. Brookes
Reckoning Copyright ©2013 Calle J. Brookes
Cover by B.G. Lashbrooks
All rights reserved.
SECOND CHANCES: A PAVAD DUET
REUNITING & RECKONING
REUNITING
Chapter 1
The door knocked Dan Reynolds on his ass. The woman barreling through it tripped over his leg and only Dan’s quick reflexes kept her from striking the cold tile floor of the St. Louis FBI building’s lobby.
“Oh my God!” She flat-handed his chest, using his body to attempt to regain her balance. Dan’s only impression of her up to that point had been vanilla and chaos. His nose somehow ended up buried in her hair, his left hand wrapping around her narrow hip, and his right clutching the damned cane that had been his constant companion for the last three months. “I am so sorry, sir.”
“What’s the big rush?” Dan helped her right herself, the man in him getting a small bit of enjoyment from the contact between his hand and her body. Dan might be in his early fifties, but he was still a man. Even if half the time he didn’t feel like it. “Can’t be that important, not if you’re rushing into the building instead of out.”
“I’m late. It’s my first day.” Her hands fluttered ineffectively near his shoulders as he used both the wall and the damned cane to pull himself to his feet. One more month, the doctor had said, and he’d be free of the cane forever. A month he couldn’t wait to pass. He’d be completely healed. Well, as completely as he could be. Reinjuring an old injury would do that to a man, he knew. And he’d do it all again. “And I’m not sure where I’m going, and the car wouldn’t start, the kids wouldn’t start, I couldn’t find a cab. I think I have the wrong room number written down.”
Dan held up his free hand as he shifted to face the chaos in front of him fully for the first time. She stood half a head shorter than his five-ten, and weighed about seventy pounds less. She was older than he’d first thought, probably closer to forty than thirty. She was pretty, and sweet. Uncomplicated. Blonde hair brushed her shoulders and wire-rimmed glasses framed blue eyes, giving her a studious look. “Where does it say you’re supposed to be?”
“Thirty-six B.” She frowned at the paper in her hand. “But that doesn’t sound right, does it?”
“No.” Dan took the paperwork, official transfer dockets from the looks of them, from her unresisting hand. He learned one thing about her right then and there. She was far too trusting, especially working for the FBI. “Three B six. Third floor, hallway B, sixth room. Come on, I’m on my way up there, right now. We have just enough time to make it.”
“Oh, thank you, mister...”
“Dan Reynolds. I’m with Hellbrook’s team, Complex Crimes.”
“Allison Brewster, well, Dr. Brewster. Most people call me Allison, though. Or Ally. Some people call me Ally.” She offered him a hand and beamed. Dan had no choice but to shake it, although something was telling him it would be a smart idea to not touch this woman. Not to even think about touching this woman. But Dan wanted to touch this woman.
Chapter 2
Ally felt like a complete idiot as she walked beside the man, careful to keep herself paced with his slower steps. Walking hurt him; she could see that in his eyes. He had nice eyes. Green. His hair was redder than blond with a bit of gray mixed in, but it wasn’t unattractive. He was very seasoned and rugged. He looked like a sailor or a pirate. Or a soldier.
She’d always been an imaginative woman, and people were her favorite subjects. She’d look at them and wonder what they’d done, what they’d seen, where they had been. And it was obvious that Dan Reynolds had seen a lot.
They didn’t speak as they entered the conference room. It was filled with more people than Ally expected and she stepped back a moment. Crowds made her a little uneasy. She was used to the relative solitude of the lab, where she was free to be herself while running her tests, and while she loved people, large groups of them shoved into a small room bothered her. On a deep level.
She resisted the urge to stay close to Dan’s side. His was the only name she knew―she didn’t see anyone from her team anywhere in the crowd.
Nearly her entire team had transferred from the Indianapolis field office to be a part of the elite special task unit of the Prevention & Analysis of Violent Acts Division. St. Louis was the stuff legends were made of, and Allison was thrilled that her team was asked to relocate; in fact, her entire unit had been asked. Only two people had refused.
It was the highest honor of her ten year tenure with the Bureau. She’d gambled everything on this post. She swallowed at the enormity of the changes she’d wrought in her children’s lives in the last week.
This had to work out. It had to. For her, but most especially for them. Ryan and Aislin had been through so many changes in the last four months. It wouldn’t be fair to them if this didn’t work out. She’d promised them St. Louis would be a new start for all of them.
Except their father.
He’d found his new start elsewhere with someone else, walking away from his wife of fifteen years, his eleven-year-old son and four-year-old daughter. He’d taken the cat.
He took the damned cat.
Ally didn’t quite understand that. The man couldn’t bear to part with...the cat. The kids...apparently they didn’t mean as much to him as...the cat. And it wasn’t even a nice cat.
“We’d better take a seat.” Dan said, drawing her out of her worries. He was right, the rest of the crowd was quickly sinking into the chairs surrounding several small tables. All were positioned within easy sight of the podium. “I expect Director Dennis will be here soon. You see your people anywhere?”
Ally stretched on her toes, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. It shouldn’t have been too hard to find her team; after all, how many tables would have her teammate Kelly? Kelly, with her purple-streaked strawberry-blond hair cut in razor chunks down to her shoulders, her multiple ear piercings, wild way of dressing, and diamond nose stud?
Her partner stood out, and that’s what Ally was counting on. Hoping for.
“There.” She’d spotted Kelly, and from her it was a quick spot to see Marianna, Payton, Cody and Sam, they were sitting with Jonathan’s team. “But there are no empty chairs.”
“Come on, then. You’re more than welcome to sit with me and my team. We should have an extra chair.” His free hand gripped her arm, escorting her to a table near the front of the room where a group of eight people sa
t laughing and talking with two other full tables beside them. There were two chairs left.
Ally swallowed again, these were the people she’d be working with from now on. And as Dan led her to the empty chairs they all stopped talking and turned to stare―at him or her, Ally couldn’t tell.
Chapter 3
Dan didn’t miss the sudden look of nerves that hit Dr. Brewster’s pretty face. The little whirlwind was shy? He never would have expected it, not from the way she’d chattered at him since the moment she’d knocked him down. Protectiveness welled in him, an emotion he was long familiar with.
He always felt protective when it came to females. Always. Came from having four younger sisters. And three young daughters. And four female teammates.
He wrapped his fingers tighter around her elbow, helping her into the chair. It was awkward for him, his balance still off from the shooting. But he managed, then stood over her chair.
“You’re back,” Carrie said, eying him with that earnest expression he loved. Carrie Sparks had helped Dan come to peace with his missing daughters. She took the place of them to some extent―and most likely always would. Carrie was something special to him, and always would be. Regardless of the new husband sitting protectively beside her, his hand resting possessively on her back. It was partially because of Carrie he was injured in the first place, and it was because of her that he’d do it all again. It was because of her that he didn’t regret it at all. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, kiddo. But I’m sure that husband of yours kept you busy. And if he didn’t, I’m sure Hellbrook did. Everybody listen up...” Dan waited until he had the attention of all three tables. “This is Dr. Brewster, part of the new ERTs that transferred in this week. Her table was a bit crowded so I offered her a spot with us. I trust you can all behave and make her feel welcome?”
He proceeded to introduce her to the CCU team, plus Lorcan, Brockman, and Sorin’s teams. Only McLaughlin and Hellbrook were nowhere to be found. He was just about to ask their whereabouts when the speaker system tripped to life in front of them. Hellbrook and McLaughlin stood with the director, Edward Dennis, as they prepared for the meeting. Dan sank into his chair, hooking the cane over the back of the cold metal where he’d be able to easily reach it when the meeting was over. Four more weeks, and he’d be tossing the cane out the window. But at least now he was back where he belonged. He took some solace in that.
And his team looked good. They all did. Carrie glowed, her new marriage obviously doing wonders for her. She wasn’t as tightly strung, he realized. She tapped, but it was muted now. Carrie was somewhere on the autistic side. Dan had never asked her exact diagnosis because it didn’t matter to him, but one of the habits she had to keep herself calm was tapping out a one-two-three-and-four . But it was muted now. Was that her husband Lorcan’s doing? Dan watched them for a quick moment, taking in the body language, the way they touched, the way they leaned into one another. He felt some of the animosity he felt toward Lorcan ebb away. They’d been married less than two months, but Carrie seemed to be doing ok.
She’d asked him to walk her down the aisle. He’d walked his favorite girl down the aisle and gave her to a man he wasn’t sure he understood. It had been one of the hardest things Dan had ever done. But Lorcan appeared to be taking good care of her.
Carrie wasn’t the only one who glowed. Georgia’s cheeks had a particular light when she looked up at the stage. The man next to her father had done a good job of taking care of her. He hadn’t any doubts that Hellbrook would. His unit chief and good friend absolutely adored the little psychologist. He did some quick calculations in his head. They’d married two weeks after he’d been shot, had been married about twice as long as little Carrie. Dan’s eyes narrowed on Georgia’s face as Norton passed his mug of coffee too close to her nose. Dan smirked. He strongly suspected Hellbrook and Georgia were going to give little Matthew―Georgia’s son―a baby sibling sometime in the next year. He wondered if they knew yet. And speaking of pregnancy, K.D. had quite the belly going. When he’d last seen her at Carrie’s wedding, she’d only been showing a little. Now, though, it was obvious. It was also clear that Norton was keeping a close eye on her. That was good, too.
The only one ones on his team who didn’t seem happy were two of the doctors. Bellows, Dan couldn’t really get a handle on her, but he knew some of her history. He understood pain. And then there was Josh. Closest thing to a son Dan would ever have, Josh Compton had once been a happy, enthusiastic kid. Kept the entire team entertained. Until the events of last March. Events Josh still blamed himself for.
Dan looked at him, seeing how he held his body slightly stiff, slightly apart from the rest of the group―especially from Georgia and Carrie. The two he loved the most, Dan knew, and the two Josh felt like he’d failed.
Dan sighed. He’d have to work on the boy.
Chapter 4
Ally wasn’t sure what to think of the people surrounding her. For one thing, they touched each other more than any other FBI team she’d ever seen. The young redhead who’d first spoken to Agent Reynolds was almost curled into the lap of the dark-haired guy on her left. It took Ally a moment to see the matching wedding bands. A married couple in the same unit? It was unheard of, at least in Ally’s experience. Of course, she’d only worked in the Indianapolis lab, for the entirety of her career. So what did she know?
There were also a lot of women in the unit, she realized. Women were outnumbered in the Bureau by eleven to one odds. Yet more than a fourth of the seats in the entire room were occupied by women. Ally liked that. And the fact that the heavily pregnant young woman across the table was a supervisor―was great. Ally liked that female agents were apparently granted a lot of opportunities in this office. Her boss Marianna, had worked in thirteen different field offices through her twenty year career―and she’d told the women of their team several different horror stories. Some offices, she’d explained, were nowhere near of progressive as the Indy one. Or, apparently, the St. Louis branch.
Ally’s chair was directly beside a young guy that had been introduced to her as Dr. Compton. He seemed so sad, quiet. Ally wondered at what would make a man his age seem so...lost. Agent Reynolds―Dan―was watching him, too, with a clear look of concern in his eyes.
The men on the stage straightened, an unspoken cue to the room’s occupants that the meeting was about to begin. Ally’s stomach clenched. Would she fit in here? She already knew her team, had a clear place with them, but what of the rest of these people?
Dan leaned closer, “Just relax, Doc. We’re a rowdy bunch but we rarely bite.” He patted her on the back, a friendly, supportive gesture that she appreciated. She felt the warmth of his touch long after his hand had dropped. She peeked at his hands quickly, furtively, as he rested them on the table. Ally had always loved a man’s hands. It told so much about them. Dan Reynolds’ hands were full of character―scarred, tanned, rough...strong.
She’d felt his hand on her hip when she’d careened into him. It had actually felt like he’d burned her skin.
She’d not felt that in a long while. At least...not since long before Jack the Jerk had left. She’d honestly thought that their relationship was a good one, thought that they were comfortable together, making a home and life for their kids. Apparently, though, after fifteen years, Ally wasn’t what Jack needed anymore. Jack apparently needed the cat. And his personal assistant.
Ally pushed thoughts of her ex away as the silvery-haired man on stage began to speak. “Good morning.”
Various good mornings were heard throughout the conference room. The man continued. “A few things to impart then I’ll let you all get to your units. First, I want to congratulate the CCU on yet another month with a ninety-six percent solve rate, the entire unit for their eighty percent solve rate, and I want to welcome the new ERT units from the Indianapolis field office who’ve joined us for the first time this morning. Dr. Glendower, if you and your people will stand, everyone, please
make them feel welcome as they get settled in.”
Ally felt eyes on her as she stood slowly. Her cheeks heated, she was the only one not sitting with her team, so it was easy to see she’d the one to get the most stares. As soon as possible she dropped back to her seat, thankful the eyes were no longer trained in her direction. Usually, it was Kelly who received most of the stares, both for her Goth appearance, and for the fact that even with the drastic personal appearance―Kelly was one of the most beautiful women Ally had ever met.
Ally wasn’t blind to her own physical appearance. She knew she looked ok. But she was thirty-six years old, had little to no curves, had a few lines around her eyes―and dressed exactly like what she was―a soccer mom.
Ally was used to being overlooked when with the team―and she liked that. She was the last one to get looked at. Even Marianna, a decade older than Ally, received her fair share of appreciative glances. Ally liked being the one who didn’t attract attention. Having a roomful of people staring at her―even briefly―was not her idea of a good time.
She looked down at the table, took a deep breath, then felt it―someone was still looking at her. She glanced around, but didn’t have to look far. Dan was watching her, a faint glint of amusement in his eyes.
Ally’s brow rose questioningly.
Chapter 5
She really was a sweet little thing, Dan decided. Shy, but not easily cowed. He liked that. He nodded at her, then turned his attention back to the men on stage, as they listed what the entire team would be working on for the next little while.
It was good to be back. Dan knew he was one of those men who needed a clear purpose. And since he no longer had his girls, his entire purpose rested in seeing that scum was removed from the streets as fast as possible.
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