Gray Wolf Security: Back Home

by Glenna Sinclair

  I still had a remote for the front gate and that made me feel good. Like I was rooster come home to roost. There was a half-dozen cars parked in the drive in front of the main house and a few more in front of the scattered cottages that existed around the property. There were a few more now than there had been when I lived here. Gray Wolf had grown exponentially since those early days.

  Rose must have seen me pull up because she was standing in the open door when I stepped out of the car.

  “Joss!”

  As she hugged me, I realized it was probably the first time in weeks I’d been held by someone else, and that thought saddened me.

  “How are you?”

  I nodded, looking down at the ground to hide the stupid tears that suddenly decided to choke me and blur my vision. She touched my cheek lightly.

  “Come inside. Ash is waiting.”

  I followed her inside, a little thrown by the new faces sitting at the usual workstations. This was Ash’s team, a group of operatives he handpicked to run cases that had special meaning just to him. Most of Gray Wolf’s business in this area was handled by the Los Angeles office that Donovan had taken over from Kirkland and my own office here in Santa Monica. Ash oversaw those cases—and cases that were run in Austin out of David’s satellite office and Wyoming where Sutherland Archer ran cases from her ranch with Kirkland’s management skills—from a CEO position, but he liked to keep his fingers in the pie, so to speak, so he ran his own crew, too.

  “Fills you with nostalgia, doesn’t it?”

  I glanced at Rose once I was able to pull my eyes from the little kitchen in the corner where Kirkland and I would spend far too much time gossiping by the coffee pot.

  “It does, actually.”

  “Mina keeps trying to get Ash to build a new office space on the property, insisting that now that the kids are getting older, they need the space down here to run around, but I think he’s kind of attached to this place.”

  Ash’s family lived upstairs in a series of bedrooms that were connected to a small living room space. I’d always wondered how they would make that work long term, but they’d done it amazingly well all these years.

  “I think we’re all a little attached to this place.”

  Rose just smiled as she gestured to the desk tucked into a back corner of the room where Ash sat, a phone pressed to his ear. “It’s nice to see you, sweetheart,” she said, touching my shoulder as she walked away.

  Ash smiled when I came around the side of the desk and took a seat across from him, unable to keep an answering smile from my lips. There was something about Ash that always cut through the bullshit and reminded me that life was never as bad as it seemed.

  “You look exhausted,” he said as he set the phone down.

  “Wait until Ford’s a teenager.”

  A look of horror crossed his face for a second. “Oh, that’s not something I’m looking forward to.”

  “You shouldn’t. My sweet, gentle McKelty is no longer sweet nor gentle.”

  “Sorry to hear it, kid.”

  There wasn’t much more to say on the subject than that. Ash studied my face for a moment, then dropped his eyes, searching the top of his desk for something. He lifted papers and memos, things he should probably have someone file but never did. I was glad to see the chaos was the same on his desk. There was something reassuring about knowing things never changed with people you loved.

  “Here,” he said, passing a stack of files toward me. “I’ve hired a few new operatives. I want you to look over their dossiers and see if they’d be a good fit for a new sex crimes task force.”

  “Sex crimes?”

  I opened the top file and was immediately greeted by a picture of a beautiful young Army captain who could have been Kirkland’s sister. Audra Johnson. She was twenty-eight, recently honorably discharged from the service. She had no family, no ties to the community. No reason to settle in Santa Monica.

  “She’s from New Orleans?”

  Ash nodded, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “And yes, before you ask, Kirkland recommended her. She’s the daughter of Al Johnson, a sax player who palled around with Kirkland’s father.”

  “It’s not like him to bring in people from his past.”

  “Yes, well, I don’t think he and Audra knew each other well, seeing as how there is a bit of an age difference. But he knew of her and when he emailed me her application, he had only good things to say about her. And her service, according to my contacts, was impeccable.”

  “She seems well qualified.”

  “I think she is. And—I’m in danger of sounding a little sexist here—she made her living as a stripper until she joined the Army. Therefore, she’s a perfect fit for the first assignment I have for your new task force.”

  “And what is that?”

  Ash sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He took a deep breath before continuing.

  “This is completely off the books. I know I can trust you not to say anything and to instruct your team to be discreet.”

  “Of course.”

  “The governor came to me with information that he received from a questionable source. He believes the information to be solid, but if he went to law enforcement, it would have the potential of creating a firestorm for himself and the source, not to mention it can get leaked. He doesn’t want to risk that until he can show proof that the information is good.”

  I tilted my head slightly. “I’m guessing the source is in danger of being prosecuted for having this information?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Okay.” I closed the file in my lap and leaned forward slightly, completely intrigued. “What is this information?”

  Ash hesitated, once again studying my face like he was looking for cracks in some sort of mask. But I learned long ago I couldn’t hide anything from Ash, so there were no cracks to find. He finally sighed, sitting up a little straighter in his chair and placing his elbows on his desk as he rested his chin in his cupped hands.

  “When Mahoney was arrested last year, we all assumed this meant his organization would be dismantled. You know as well as I do that there were several attempts by his closest associates to take over control of the organization, but each failed.”

  I did know that. I also knew that Mahoney would come to trial eventually—the trial had already been scheduled and postponed more than three times—and that would likely be the end of him. But it didn’t necessarily mean the end of his criminal enterprise. Assuming that would be very naive, especially given our profession.

  “The governor believes Mahoney’s cartel is still active?”

  “He has information that suggests it is. But instead of drugs or weapons, he believes this activity is centered on sex trafficking. He believes the remnants of Mahoney’s men here in California are bringing women into the United States in order to pimp them out, sell them into marriages they don’t want, or force them to work in some other sex-oriented business with promises of money or helping them bring family into the country.” He gestured toward the files I still held on my lap. “The first thing he’s asked us to check is a strip club here in Santa Monica. He believes the owner of the club is forcing his strippers to work in exchange for the promise that he’ll put them in contact with a coyote who will help them bring their family members into the country. Only there’s some evidence that these women are used until they either get used up or become suspicious, then they are murdered.”

  I shuddered at the thought. “Most of them are illegal?”

  “Yes. Beautiful young women whose families sent them here to make a better life for themselves. Instead, they fall into this man’s hands.” He handed over another file folder. “His name’s Xavier Damico.”

  “Damico? As in Anthony Damico?”

  Ash nodded gravely. “As you know, Anthony Damico was a lieutenant in the Mahoney Cartel who was gunned down in Miami not long after the Bazarov thing here.”

  He inclined his head
gently, indicating the Russian mafia boss I’d taken out when he broke into Carrington’s house to kill him and McKelty. Me too, I supposed. But it was Ash who was the real hero of that story, taking out Dimitri Avdonin and what was left of the Bazarov Mafia to protect his wife and son. We didn’t know that the Bazarovs were connected to Mahoney until everything that went down in Wyoming last summer.

  “This Xavier—he’s part of Mahoney’s organization?”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised. His father was.” Ash handed me yet another file. “Clint Butler sent me this information. He was in Miami at the time, undercover, and he was a witness to the shooting. This is his report to his supervisors regarding the event.”

  I looked up from the file, surprised by Ash’s words. “I thought Clint was no longer a part of Homeland Security.”

  “He isn’t. But he still has friends there.”

  Clint Butler was Sutherland’s brother. Last I heard, he was working as an operative for her at Gray Wolf’s satellite office in Wyoming.

  I studied the report a moment longer before closing it carefully as my thoughts whirled.

  “You want me to put an untrained operative into a strip club where the owner may or may not be a member of the Mahoney Cartel using women with promises of breaking immigration laws and then murdering them?”

  Ash’s expression became very sober. “That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

  “Ash, I have other female operatives who might be better suited—“

  “But they’re experienced. They might give themselves away with their experience. Besides, this girl was a stripper. She’d know what to do on the pole.”

  I shuffled through the files he’d given me and reopened Audra Johnson’s file. “It’s been ten years since she last danced!”

  “Do you really think she’d forget how to do something like that?”

  “She’s military. Aren’t you afraid that’ll come through? It’ll give her away.”

  “Perhaps. But a military background would be easier to explain than obvious security training.”

  I thought about it for a moment and he had a point. But I still didn’t like the idea of sending an untrained operative into the lion’s den, so to speak.

  “We give her all the information before we send her in.”

  “Of course.”

  “And I assign two male operatives to stick close to her.”

  Ash frowned. “And if they’re made? Won’t that blow her cover, too?”

  “They’re professionals. Trained.”

  “Yes, but these people are also trained. They know what behaviors to look for. Two guys hanging around the club only when a particular dancer is on duty might give something away.”

  “We’ll be careful. Change it up every few days.” When Ash didn’t respond, I added, “I won’t send her in without backup.”

  He finally nodded. “Okay.”

  I lifted the stack of files off my lap and stood. “Where are these ladies?”

  “Ms. Johnson is waiting for you at your office. “The other three are in Wyoming, training with Kirkland.”

  I smiled, aware that he would have known I’d insist on that. I trusted Kirkland more than I trusted myself. He would train these girls well.

  “I’ll let you know when she’s in the field.”

  “Keep me updated on the entire operation.”

  “Would I do anything less?”

  He got up and came over to me, his hand resting heavily on my shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Joss.”

  I reached up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you later.”

  I walked off, aware of him watching me as I did. I knew he knew about the troubles in my marriage, knew he worried about me. But he was the last person I could talk about it with. After all, he was Carrington’s victim and, even though it’d been a year, there were still things we couldn’t talk about.

  And that was the biggest hurt of it all.

  Chapter 2

  Audra

  I paced the small room, more nervous now than I’d been when I was fifteen, stripping in a club and praying the cops raiding the place wouldn’t see through my fake ID. I kept telling myself I already had the job. There was no reason to be nervous. But when Ash pulled me aside and said I’d be going straight into the field instead of training with the others he’d hired the same time as me, it made me nervous.

  Was it because he had faith in me? Or was it because he wanted to test me a little more before making a final decision on my employ?

  I was supposed to meet with Joss Matthews forty minutes ago. Was it part of her interviewing technique to keep me waiting so long? Was she trying to drive me to the brink of patience?

  I’d done a lot with my life since I worked the clubs in New Orleans. I served honorably in the Army, did everything my superiors and my country asked of me. I’d have stuck with it for another ten years if not for a shoulder injury that was making it difficult for me to keep up with PT regulations. I could have gone back to school, could have gotten a degree in some lofty subject—psychology or business or engineering—but I’d heard a lot about these security firms that hired former military and thought it might be exciting to bust bad guys for a while. To be on the front line of the fight would be nice after fighting terrorism from a distance for so long.

  School could wait. I’d only be young enough to do this sort of thing for a while longer.

  But if she made me wait much more…

  “Sorry,” a small blond woman said as she burst through the door, an armful of files weighing her down. She rushed around the desk and dropped into the chair, dumping the files before reaching for the intercom to request coffee from her secretary. “You want anything? Coffee? Tea? Soda?”

  I shook my head. The woman returned her attention to the files she’d brought into the room with her. She opened one and I saw my own face staring up at the ceiling, a photo taken almost a year ago for my military ID.

  “Audra Johnson,” the woman said, her eyes coming back up to me. She seemed to be drinking me in, her gaze assessing me with just a long look. “Ash explained to you that we want to put you in the field immediately?”

  “You’re Joss Matthews?”

  I knew I sounded shocked, but I couldn’t help myself. I’d heard stories about Joss Matthews when I did my research into Gray Wolf Security. She was responsible for taking out the head of the Bazarov Cartel—singlehandedly, from what I’d heard. I’d assumed she’d be this big, bulky, Amazonian type of woman, not this teeny, petite blond who looked like she couldn’t harm a fly.

  “Sorry,” she said again, offering a hand over the desk. “I guess I should have started with that. Yes, I’m Joss Matthews, pleasure to meet you.”

  I shook her hand as I cocked my head. She smiled, amusement lighting up her eyes.

  “It’s hard to see it, isn’t it?” She sat back again. “I get that a lot.”

  “I’ve just…you have a reputation.”

  “So I’ve heard. The truth is, though, I acted on instinct that night. They were going to hurt my targets and I couldn’t allow that.”

  I inclined my head slightly. I understood that.

  “Anyway, back to the business at hand. Ash explained to you that we wanted to put you in the field immediately, correct?”

  “He did. But he didn’t tell me about the case.”

  She glanced through my file for a long moment before leaning back and regarding me with that all-knowing look again.

  “We’ve been asked to look into a series of leads regarding possible sex trafficking. These leads are from an important source who would like to keep everything under wraps, at least for now, so the first thing I need to ask is if you signed the non-disclosure agreement when you completed your paperwork.”

  I nodded. “I did.”

  “Good.” Joss closed my file and opened another, her expression growing darkly serious as she gathered the file and came around to my side of the desk. She settled beside me and spread the file open
again on her lap. She began handing me photographs of mutilated women; the photos were more graphic than anything I’d ever seen before. It took everything I had not to flinch.

  “I want you to know what you’re getting into before we even begin.” She handed me the last of the photos, touching the woman’s face as she did. “These women worked in a strip club here in downtown Santa Monica. Each one disappeared when they grew too old to perform, when they refused to perform any longer, or when they asked too many of the wrong questions. This is always the potential danger you face in this job.”

  I looked up sharply at her last words.

  “This is a very dangerous job, Audra. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you we can protect you because that’s not always possible. We’ve never lost an operative, but we’ve never put an untrained operative into the field, either.”

  “Then why me?”

  Joss was quiet for a moment, her face twisted with conflict. “Ash feels that you would have a better chance of not blowing your cover if you don’t act like an operative. I think he’s counting on your street smarts and your previous work experience to keep you safe.”

  And just when I thought I’d finally escaped my past.

  “I won’t be sending you out there alone. I’ll place at least two operatives in and around the club to keep an eye on you, but I’ll be frank—we can’t protect you from everything without blowing your cover.”

  I studied the photographs, going through them methodically. “Who did this?”

  Joss handed me another photograph, this one of a man not much older than myself with dark curls and deep brown eyes. Under different circumstances I would have found him attractive, but knowing what he was capable of took a little luster off his appearance.