Bad Boy Savior: The Bad Boy Series: Book 4

by S. E. Lund

  I gathered up my things, and headed to the gym. I had a quick shower, needing the heat of the water to soothe my aching muscles. My hand stung in the water, but it felt good, the steam and heat invigorating me. I dried off and dressed, then took the SUV and drove to the waterfront, to the old docks that Millar mentioned. I saw the warehouse once I turned down a side street bordering the waterfront. It was an old hulk of a brick building, with dark windows that stared out over the bay like dead eyes.

  A car was parked at the rear loading dock. I pulled up beside it and saw that it was Millar's sedan. Beside him sat another man wearing the usual FBI blue windbreaker with yellow lettering. He looked to be about forty, lean and sharp-eyed with a shaved head.

  "Come inside," Millar said and gestured to the building.

  I parked my SUV and got out of my vehicle, then went to where the two men were standing, waiting for me.

  "This is Special Agent Cross of the Crimes Against Children Unit." Millar pointed to Cross and the two of us shook.

  "Good to meet you," I said and met his eyes. "Glad you guys are going to look into this."

  "They'll do more than look into it. They'll take the bastard down," Millar said.

  I followed them up to the entrance and watched as Millar unlocked the door before ushering us inside.

  "Is this an FBI office?" I asked, looking around at the bank of desks with a dozen computer stations.

  "This is the task force's main office in Boston." Cross pointed to a corner office behind a wall of windows. I followed Millar inside and we sat around a large table. "We're coordinating with Alexandria."

  Cross went over the case with me, detailing the evidence they had gathered on Spencer over the past six months. None of it was enough to bring charges—it was instead based on the testimony of our informants —so the FBI was happy to learn about the cabin and that it was being used as a place to make child porn as well as abuse children.

  "The young girls are all immigrants from former Soviet Republics, like Georgia. They're lured here with promises of a job modelling and then they're abused, taken to parties where they're passed around the men with money. They're drugged, sometimes beaten if they don't cooperate; they're raped and given drugs to get them addicted and then they work for whatever drug they're hooked on. The conditions they live in are horrific."

  It made my stomach tighten, remembering the young girl I'd seen come out of the cabin, her makeup smeared, her hair a mess. I wondered what hell she'd been through and what she had left behind back in whatever Eastern European state she'd come from, thinking she was heading for fame and fortune in America.

  I hated the men who did this to her and to other young girls like her. I was sure Spencer would have done it to Celia if he could have, and wondered how hard it had been for him to refrain from abusing her sexually. Probably the reason he was so abusive to her physically and emotionally for all those years.

  "I'm glad you're going to nail him," I said. "He's been a bastard to his step-kids for years. I'm totally shocked that he's been a pornographer involved in the human trafficking business. How did he get away with it for so long? I never would have believed it."

  "Believe it. He's a sly one. He's kept himself squeaky clean since he moved to Boston but there were rumors of his past in Alexandria. We could never connect him, but we made the connection when he took down your uncle. He used intel from a confidential informant in the Romanov family. That led us to the Romanov's involvement in human trafficking and some online child porn websites. We figured we might be able to connect Grant to that part of the Romanov business. Now we can. The cabin was owned by one of his shell companies. It stayed under the radar for a while but we would have gotten to it sooner or later. It was on our list. You got to it first. How was that possible?"

  Millar turned to Cross. "I told him about the case, and he went from there."

  Cross nodded, eyeing me closely, like he was trying to figure me out.

  "I'm trying to talk him into applying to be a Special Agent. Right now, he's working for us but off the books."

  "We can use good experienced operators," Cross said. "Guys with military experience, especially special operations, are a bonus. Good luck if you apply. I'm sure your work with us will help."

  "I hope so," I said, now even more convinced I'd like to join the FBI.

  "Come and sit in the car with me for a minute," Millar said.

  "Okay," I said, and hopped in beside him. "Thanks for letting me take part," I said. "Spencer's a sick fuck, and a bastard on top of it."

  "You got that right," Millar responded.

  "What happens now? When will you pick up Grant? What about the Jones guy I stopped outside the cabin? Have they arrested him?"

  "And charged him with what? He was walking along a pathway. Until they have a case against Grant and have a link to him, he's an innocent man. In fact, you're more likely to be arrested than him, at least in the short term, for assault and robbery."

  "I couldn't argue I was doing a citizen's arrest?" I said half-jokingly.

  "Nope," he said. "Likely the only reason he didn't bring charges against you for assault and battery is that he's guilty as hell. Count yourself lucky."

  I sighed and glanced around. "What's next?"

  "We'll start our investigation, collect the evidence and then turn it over to the federal prosecutor. He'll decide whether to charge Grant or not based on the evidence and links to him."

  I nodded, eager to get on with it. "I hope they get the bastard and put him away for a very long time."

  "If he's smart, he'll leave the country—go to someplace where there's no extradition treaty with the US."

  "He'd be leaving behind a real big career. But I can't see that he can recover from this."

  Millar closed his file. "What's up with the Grant girl?"

  Cross turned to me, his interest obviously piqued.

  "Her name's Parker, not Grant," I said, slightly annoyed that he was asking about my personal life. "Nothing's up. She's a family friend. I'm protecting her because I'm friends with her brother."

  "I heard you paid off his debts," Millar said.

  "I did. Victor Romanov thought he could get to me through her. I'm putting her up in one of my properties."

  "Whatever," Millar said, like he didn’t believe me. Cops have a gut sense of things, and he probably knew I was lying through my teeth. She was a lot more to me than a family friend.

  Millar checked his cell. "Well, we're in luck. They got the search warrant. I guess their judge isn't a fan of Grant. They've put a unit on it to watch in case anyone tries to go in and clean the place up. They'll be going in later today."

  "That soon?"

  Millar shrugged. "The sooner the better. I'm going to fly down later."

  "Can I come along? I'd love to see it go down."

  "Sure," he said, but shot me a look. "You're not part of any official team, Hunter. Remember – you're off the books. We need deniability but maybe I'll say that you're working with me and leave it at that. I have some leeway. You'll have to fly domestic on your nickel."

  "Fine," I said, glad that I could go along and watch. I checked my cell and found a flight leaving just after lunch. "I could catch the two o'clock flight and be there by four."

  "It's your decision. Now, when you get to Alexandria, I don't want you to come to the cabin right away. Let us do our work. Go get yourself a hotel room. Call me when you get in town. I'll be at my office in Washington. You got the number. You can show up about half an hour after I let you know we're in."

  I nodded, my nerves all primed and ready, the way I used to be while waiting for action in Iraq or Afghanistan. Waiting was the hardest part when you were at war. The long hours of calm were deceptive. Suddenly, all hell would break loose and the bullets would be flying, explosions, fire, shouts and screams. Your adrenaline pumped like crazy but you stayed calm and just acted. No real fear. Just determination to act.

  Stay frosty.

  It wa
s hard to stay frosty when what I really wanted to do was go to Spencer and plow his face in, but I had to. Couldn't lose control. That would help no one and accomplish nothing. The cops would go in and find the stuff I did and that would be that. I was sure that Spencer didn't have enough time to go to the cabin and clear it out, and besides, I'd alerted the cops right away about what I found and they'd have someone watching the cabin just in case.

  "I'll get a hotel room and call you. I gotta get back to Boston as soon as I can. I got an empire to run," I said sarcastically.

  "Yeah," Millar said. "Watch your six."

  At that, we parted and I drove to my apartment and crashed for a few hours so I'd be fresh for the op at the cabin. I slept for about six hours, falling asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. Once I woke, I had a quick shower, packed a bag, then went to the gym to make sure things were on track with the daily cash.

  After I was finished looking over the books and receipts, I drove to the airport and purchased my ticket for flight to Washington, went through security, and sat in the United first class lounge and did some work on my laptop.

  As I sat waiting for my flight, I thought about Celia and what was happening between us. When I first considered using Celia as my fuck toy to repay Graham's debt, I felt guilty. My mind went there immediately – I couldn't help it. Part of me thought I was a total asshole to use my money to take advantage of her but another part relished the idea. I tried to tell myself that it meant nothing – that she meant nothing to me besides a good, easy fuck – but even I knew that was a lie.

  The fact was that Celia had always inhabited a part of my mind since that night she gave me her virginity, and I'd always felt a mix of desire for her and anger that she threw me over for Greg – and for Spencer's money.

  Now, it felt like she was warming up to me. Our recent night together, when she came to me on her own, suggested that the walls between us were breaking down. That maybe she wanted me as a man, aside from being the one to pay back her brother's debt and protect her.

  I was glad to be able to pay back Graham's debt. I was glad to be able to protect her. Most of all, I wanted her to want me.

  As much as I wanted her.

  Chapter 5

  Hunter

  The flight was uneventful, and I arrived in D.C. only fifteen minutes late due to a hold on the tarmac in Boston. I sat in an alcove in the lounge and called Millar at his D.C. FBI office, getting his admin person.

  "Hunter Saint for Special Agent Millar."

  An admin connected me and Millar came on the line.

  "So, you're just in time," he said. In the background, I heard papers shuffling and muted conversation. "The team's getting ready and we'll be going out to the cabin in about thirty minutes. You can meet me there in an hour. I need time to get things set up before I want to bring you in."

  "Will do."

  "Oh, and Hunter? Keep it quiet that you're here and what we're doing. We don't want anyone to know we're going in. Gotta try to keep our advantage so no one goes in and removes the evidence."

  "Don't worry. I understand the need for secrecy."

  I hung up and felt invigorated now that something was going to happen. I was certain that investigators would find more than enough to arrest Spencer. There were tapes of him doing illegal stuff to barely pubescent girls. He was going down and for Spencer, all that was left was the crying. He was such a worm, I was sure he'd try to escape. Part of me hoped he'd run and get caught at the airport, trying to buy a one-way ticket to some third-world country where he wouldn't get shipped back to face charges in the US. I wanted to sit in the stands and watch his trial, see him cringe when they brought out evidence of his perversion. Knowing Spencer, he'd plead to some lesser charges and minimize the public exposure of his crimes.

  Then, he'd go to jail and live out the rest of his miserable life in protective custody. Someone like Spencer would not do well in prison. He'd sent away too many bad guys for him to be safe. Besides, even criminals hated pedophiles.

  I had a quick shower to revive myself, and considered calling Celia to let her know I was going to be out of town for a few days, but I didn't want to have to lie about what I was doing. I also didn’t want to bother her, considering she'd probably be busy with her studies. Instead, I texted George, letting him know instead.

  HUNTER: I'll be in Alexandria for a couple of days, checking out that matter I told you about. Stuff is going to go down soon and I want to be here to watch. Let Celia know I'm going to be away for a while and won't be in contact. How is she?

  RUSKIE5: Celia is fine. She was studying all morning. She ask about you but I tell her you went to office to do some work.

  HUNTER: Good. I'll let you know when I'm coming back.

  RUSKIE5: Roger that.

  I put my cell away and then waited, my eye on my watch and my mind on the cabin along the bay and what the FBI sex crimes team would find once they got there.

  I hoped Spencer hadn't the chance to let people know to take out the trash. I hoped to be able to do that myself, or at least help. It would be a real shame if we went into the cabin and found it had been wiped clean.

  I showed up at the cabin on time, only to find a police barricade about half a block on either side of the location. A cop stood with his hands on his hips, guarding the perimeter.

  "This area is closed to traffic," the cop said.

  "Hunter Saint," I replied. "I'm meeting Special Agent Millar."

  He spoke into the mike on his shoulder and waited for a response. He nodded and then gestured to the cabin.

  "He's expecting you. Go ahead."

  I ducked under the yellow police tape and made my way up the drive to the front door. It was open, and a blue-jacketed FBI Special Agent emerged with a box. I expected it was filled with tapes or other evidence.

  He nodded to me and I went in the front entrance. Millar met me at the door and handed me some blue paper booties.

  "Put these on. We don't want you to contaminate the crime scene. Don't touch anything."

  I slipped the paper booties on and followed him to the basement. Down there, some forensic workers were dusting for prints and taking photos of the set up used to make videos. Another forensic worker was shining a fluorescent light on the sink in the tiny bathroom, no doubt looking for evidence of blood.

  "We got a boatload of evidence," Millar said, standing in the center of the room, his hands on his hips. "We have you to thank, so thanks."

  I glanced around, feeling satisfied that they'd be able to bring Spencer down with all the evidence he and his fellow perverts left behind.

  "I'd love to be with you when you arrest him."

  "We'll have to process this evidence and then make sure we have enough to take him in, but yeah. Since you tipped us off to this place, I'm sure I could arrange things so you could come along with the team. You like this kind of work?"

  I shrugged. "Yeah," I said. "Not as messy as what I did as a Marine, but still fighting bad guys."

  "If you need a reference, you got it."

  I followed Millar around and listened as he spoke to the various Special Agents about the crime scene and evidence they were collecting. Special Agent Cross appeared and we discussed the evidence they'd found. While I listened, I thought seriously about Millar's suggestion that I join the FBI. I could see myself doing this work – of that I was certain. I'd joined the Marines to fight for my country and to escape my family's business ties to the mafia and organized crime. Getting the short training at Quantico gave me insight into what an FBI agent did and I found it a natural fit with my training in the Marines.

  About an hour into the investigation, Millar got a call and stood off to the side of the room, his hand over one ear. He spoke into the cell and then glanced up at me and the look on his face was one of concern. When he ended the call, he came over and put his hands in his pockets, eyeing me.

  "Grant's body was just found," he said, watching me closely.

  "What?
" My jaw dropped at the news. "He's dead?"

  Millar nodded and Cross came over, looking me over once before turning to Millar.

  "You got the news?"

  They both turned to me.

  "I'm as shocked as you are," I said, knowing immediately that they probably suspected me.

  "The coroner's just now determining the approximate time of death, but it's been hours."

  "Where did they find him? How did he die?"

  "According to the report I got, he died within the past eight hours. Shot in the head and chest."

  "He was shot?" I shook my head, shocked at the development. "Two shots? That sounds like a hit job."

  "It does," Millar replied, his eyes narrow. "With a high-performance rifle. Russian make. Left at the scene of the crime. They're pulling prints off it as we speak."

  "Russian?" I said, shocked that Spencer would have been killed by a Russian weapon.

  It was then that I remembered my meeting with Sergei Romanov. He’d had a shipment of Russian sniper rifles. I’d shot one.

  He had given me one as a gift.

  "It wasn't me," I said and held up my hands defensively. "I was with you early in the morning, and then I caught the flight to Washington."

  "Coroner's working out an exact time of death," Millar said like he didn't believe me. "We should have it soon."

  I frowned and wanted to text Celia right away to see how she was doing.

  "I have to make a call," I said and held up my cell. "I'm close to Spencer Grant's kids."

  "I'd rather you didn't," Millar said, holding up his hand.

  "Why not?"

  "Hunter, you have to know you're a suspect."

  "What?" I said, glancing between the two. "Why am I a suspect?"

  "Just don't call anyone right now. Not until we have more details."

  "I'm close to his step daughter. I need to contact her."

  "Hunter," Millar said, coming closer to me. "You're here under my authority. I'm asking you to hold off from contacting anyone until we have more information. That's all I can say."