Seized by Seduction--A Compelling Tale of Romance, Love and Intrigue

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Seized by Seduction--A Compelling Tale of Romance, Love and Intrigue Page 18

by Brenda Jackson


  “Shep also fought to make sure I got therapy with a counselor for my water phobia. But even with all those counseling sessions, I couldn’t put behind me the image of coming so close to dying in water, gasping for breath, having water fill my lungs and not being able to do anything about it. At least I don’t have the dreams anymore. The counseling sessions with the therapist did help with that.”

  Randi reached over and touched his shoulder. She could only imagine what he’d gone through. And in a way, what he was still going through. “I’m glad they did help. And I’m glad Sheppard Granger was there as an advocate.”

  “What the hell!”

  Quasar suddenly swerved the car when another vehicle speeded toward them head-on. Randi was certain if it hadn’t been for his skill behind the wheel, they would have gone off the edge of the road, into a ravine.

  “Hold on, Randi!” Quasar shouted.

  He brought the car to a complete stop and quickly pulled the gun from his holster. When the driver of the other car turned his vehicle around and began hurling toward them again, she fought back a scream at the same time Quasar rolled the window down and begin firing. Apparently he knew just where to hit to blow out the tires. The car began spinning out of control. Several more shots fired from Quasar’s gun hit the fuel tank. The attacker’s vehicle crashed into a tree before bursting into flames.

  He then quickly backed them away from all the fire and smoke. After bringing the car to a stop, he unsnapped his seat belt and turned toward her. His gaze scanned all over her. “You okay?”

  She nodded, unable to speak at that second. A moment later, when she could, she asked in a strained voice, “Where are the agents who were following us?”

  “I can only assume they were deliberately cut off from us. This was a setup.”

  Randi’s hand flew to her throat. “A setup?”

  “Yes. Someone knew we would be traveling this route and was waiting. That car came from out of nowhere.”

  She drew in a deep breath, refusing to wonder who and how. She definitely knew why. Someone was determined to start a gang war and wasn’t about to let her interfere.

  Her gaze roamed over Quasar. He seemed all in one piece, but she had to know for certain. “What about you? You okay?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  He’d said it so coolly and calmly, it made her wonder if having something like this happen was a regular part of his job as a bodyguard. Probably.

  “I’m calling Riviera.” He placed the phone on speaker for her to listen.

  “This is Riviera.”

  “This is Quasar Patterson. Not sure where your men are, but we almost got ambushed.”

  “What! Where are you?”

  “About thirty minutes from LA. We got lucky—if this had been an hour earlier, more cars would have been on the road.”

  “Stay put. I’m coming with backup.”

  “No need. Just be at headquarters when we get there in ten minutes. I know a shortcut. However, you might want to summon the fire department. The car that tried to ram us is in flames.”

  “Any survivors?”

  “I didn’t check. At this stage of the game, I really don’t give a fuck.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “ARE YOU SURE you’re okay, Dr. Fuller?”

  Randi stared into the concerned faces of the FBI agents surrounding her. Beyond them she saw Quasar, leaning against a wall with hands folded across his chest, staring at her. Yes, she was okay because Quasar had her within his scope. That filled her with a deep sense of security and protection.

  She noticed no one had asked Quasar how he was doing. Evidently they figured since he’d volunteered to be her bodyguard, whatever came his way was something he had to deal with. And luckily for her, he had, demonstrating true grit. He had stopped the attack with expertise and skill while keeping a level head. He’d done what was needed to keep her safe. Unfortunately, the driver of the vehicle hadn’t survived, and the authorities were trying to determine the man’s identity.

  Knowing it wouldn’t be long before the media got wind of this, she had phoned her family. Everyone had been upset but was grateful to Quasar.

  “Yes,” she finally said to Agent Riviera. “For someone who’s had an attempt made on her life twice since arriving in LA, I guess you could say I am okay. Thanks to Quasar, I’m alive.”

  All the agents except Agent Riviera swiveled their gazes from her to Quasar, sizing him up. They stared at him, and Randi watched as he returned their stares with no expression on his face. Not a smile. Not a frown. Although she couldn’t read his thoughts, she could imagine what he was thinking. She could imagine what those agents were thinking, as well. He had accomplished something their comrades hadn’t, which was single-handedly stopping the attacker. When the agents’ gazes returned to her, she saw the admiration in their eyes. The two agents who’d been assigned to follow them had been ambushed, as well. Both had been checked at the hospital and released with minor injuries. Their attacker had gotten away.

  “Due to the three recent homicides as well as what happened last night and today, Dr. Fuller, we can’t take a chance on a third attempt on your life,” Agent Riviera said. “I hate to suggest this, but maybe you should step back from the case.”

  Randi shook her head. Too much was at stake. This would not be another case that haunted her because those responsible were not brought to justice. “I can’t. Someone is deliberately trying to start a gang war. I’m determined more than ever to expose that person before more lives are lost. And after last night and this morning, for me it’s personal.”

  Agent Riviera sighed. “The LAPD raided the Warlords’ stronghold and confiscated enough weapons to start World War III. Just think what can happen if the Revengers have armed themselves to that degree, as well.”

  Randi didn’t want to think about it. “Where is the leader of the Warlords now?”

  “He’s in police custody. Do you still want to talk to him?”

  She had wanted to talk with the gang leaders on their turf, but with the recent turn of events it was apparent there wasn’t time. Regardless, she needed to talk to them. “Yes. After I visit the crime scene.”

  “Okay, I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

  She nodded. “And I still want to talk to the leader of the Revengers, as well.”

  “That might be difficult.”

  Randi raised a brow. “Why?”

  “He’s missing. Without any solid evidence to hold him, he was released after questioning. He slipped the tail assigned to him. As of this morning, he can’t be found, and his gang isn’t talking. Something is up and we don’t like it.”

  * * *

  AN HOUR LATER they arrived at the crime scene, a warehouse buried deep in LA’s Westside borough. The mother of the Westside Warlords gang leader had been brutally murdered in the gang’s own backyard. Their own turf. The slap had undisputedly been loud and clear and meant to incite the gang.

  After bringing the car to a stop, the first thing Quasar noted was the bright yellow crime scene tape that seemed to cover the entire block. He peered through the windshield and saw multiple dilapidated buildings standing tall and empty. The streetlights, some bent over, a number ripped from the sockets, were an eyesore, and garbage was scattered about. An area that once held so much potential was now an unthinkable waste. The gangs had made this side of town unappealing to anyone who could give the community a revitalization boost, something it desperately needed.

  He turned to Randi upon hearing her deep sigh. They hadn’t said much during the drive here, especially after she’d shared with him the details of how Esther Emiliano had been killed. It had been one of the most horrendous accounts he’d ever listened to. Just the thought that anyone could kill another human being so brutally actually turned
his stomach.

  Although their car had been flanked by those driven by FBI agents, Quasar had remained alert and watchful, always expecting the unexpected. He had no intentions of lowering his guard.

  “You okay?” he asked Randi, watching her take in the depressing view outside the window.

  She turned troubled eyes on him. “Yes, I’m fine, but I feel such tragedy here. A senseless loss.”

  He didn’t say anything but silently agreed with her. Before leaving headquarters, Riviera had told them the authorities had found Ms. Emiliano’s body after receiving an anonymous call. So far the tipster hadn’t been identified.

  As the agents stepped out of their vehicles, Quasar said, “I’ll open your door, Randi.” It was his way of kindly telling her to stay put. After rounding the back of the car, he opened her door and offered his hand. Liquid heat volleyed to his groin the moment their fingers touched. Her gaze shot to his. Somehow he managed to keep a straight face when she said, “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  He took a step back when Agent Riviera and another agent who’d been introduced earlier as Agent Claude Bledsoe approached. “Get prepared for what you’re about to see,” Agent Riviera cautioned. “The building has been kept locked, and no one has been permitted beyond the tape. Not even the cleanup company.”

  Randi nodded. “Who owns the building?”

  “Some outfit in New York. They paid the back taxes to get it, but it’s been sitting empty since the purchase a couple of years ago.”

  Everyone moved toward the building, and the group was met by several police officers. Quasar remembered one of them from last night, Detective Sutherland, the prick. The man approached with a smarmy smile plastered on his face. “Dr. Fuller. Mr. Patterson. Good seeing you two again,” Sutherland said. “I understand you ran into a little bit of trouble this morning.”

  Quasar shrugged casually. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  His words were intentionally cocky to rub Sutherland the wrong way. It was obvious it worked when Sutherland’s phony smile was replaced with a deep frown. “You like playing cops, Patterson?”

  “No. I like being a bodyguard. No playing in it.”

  Sutherland shifted his gaze from Quasar to Randi. “So, Dr. Fuller, has the universe sent you any signs yet?”

  Before Quasar could speak in Randi’s defense and tell the arrogant bastard just what he could do with any signs, Randi beat him to the punch. “Yes, in fact, one came to me a few moments ago. It told me that you could be a pretty nice guy if you stopped being a total ass.”

  Several agents cleared their throats. A number of police officers muffled laughter with fake coughs. Agent Riviera didn’t try to hide his chuckle, and Quasar waited for the bastard’s comeback, wondering if he was stupid enough to make one.

  As if deciding a verbal spar with Randi wouldn’t be in his best interest, Detective Sutherland didn’t reply. Instead he turned his attention to Agent Riviera. “There are no new developments. The murder weapon still hasn’t been found.”

  “And that’s why I’m here,” Randi said. “Shall we go inside, gentlemen?”

  * * *

  RANDI WONDERED IF she was the only one who smelled it. The stench of death. Blood had seeped into the cracks in the concrete floor. Hair shaved from the victim’s head along with pieces of torn clothing littered the ground. She stood. Assessing. Measuring. Weighing. And yes, even asking for a sign from the universe. Detective Sutherland’s words were meant as a dig, but at the moment, such a sign would be welcome.

  Moving toward the area where white chalk marked the location the victim had been found, she knelt and touched the floor, feeling the cold cement against her fingers. Closing her eyes, she pictured what happened that ill-fated day. The visions came to her. At first they were fragmented. Disjointed. Just scraps, really. Then the images became clearer and stronger. At times shivers ran through her body, and at other times she felt so hot she was tempted to remove her top.

  Moments later—ten minutes or thirty, she wasn’t sure—Randi opened her eyes and glanced around. The interior of the warehouse was deathly quiet, and everyone present—FBI Agents and police officers alike—was staring at her. Waiting expectantly. Some impatiently.

  And then there was Quasar.

  He was staring at her, as well. She couldn’t decipher his look, and for the moment she couldn’t concern herself with what he was possibly thinking. This was the first time he’d seen her in her paranormal element, and she was grateful for the two mothers who’d psychically reached out to her, wanting to spare others pain.

  Randi stood and spoke, making sure her voice was loud and clear. “It’s imperative that what I share with all of you today is kept from the media for now. I’m sure you’re aware by now that there’s a mole in one of your organizations.”

  Although no one had mentioned such a thing to her, she knew they had to have reached that conclusion. Otherwise, those attackers would not have had known what route she would be taking this morning or what hotel she had checked into yesterday.

  “I don’t know which agency yet, or the culprit. But there’s a way I can be certain it’s no one in this room.”

  “You have our word that nothing will be released to the media until you give the word,” Agent Riviera said, speaking for the group.

  Randi shook her head. “No. I need to hear from each man and woman present. If there’s a leak, I will know who broke the promise.”

  All the agents and officers gave their word individually, and as they did she mentally read them, took their measure and sometimes even got a flash into their lives. She had to force back her smile at the number of single men in the room with noncommittal tendencies when it came to women...including Agent Riviera and Detective Sutherland. Quasar was the last person to speak, giving his word. She nodded, knowing he was the one person she couldn’t read at all.

  Satisfied, she said, “Two men are responsible for what happened in here to Ms. Emiliano.”

  Agent Riviera asked, “Do you know their identities?”

  Randi nodded. She slowly moved toward an officer who had a copy of that morning’s newspaper in his hand. She glanced at his name badge. “Officer Hall? May I see your paper for a moment?”

  The man gave her the newspaper. She opened it. Photos of two young men along with the headline, Two Gang Members Brutally Executed, covered the front page. “These two here.”

  Agent Riviera stared at the newspaper and then back at her. “Rick Constantine and Shane Griffin? The Warlord gang members who were slaughtered last night, execution-style? Are you sure, Dr. Fuller?”

  “Yes. I’m positive.”

  “That would make things convenient, now, wouldn’t it, Dr. Fuller?” Detective Sutherland asked with a sneer. “Seeing as both men are dead and can’t be questioned. When you need a scapegoat, blame it on the dead man.”

  No one said anything. Randi had already proven that when it came to Sutherland, she could hold her own. A smile touched her lips. “I’m sure that an intelligent and experienced detective such as yourself won’t just take my word for it. But just in case I assumed wrong about your intelligence and experience, I suggest you have your medical examiner run fingerprints and semen samples from both men. Please don’t be surprised when both match.”

  Again, several police officers and agents cleared their throats or fake-coughed.

  “If Constantine and Griffin were involved, that meant they’d turned on their own gang. Become traitors. Why?” Agent Bledsoe asked.

  Surprisingly, it was Detective Sutherland who answered. “Greed. Must have been promised a whole lot of money.”

  “They were,” Randi agreed. “Check bank accounts...not in their names but in the names of family members they trusted.”

  “But who is the money man? The person orchestrating it all
?”

  Randi drew in a deep breath. For some reason she couldn’t get a reading on that person, and she wasn’t sure why. All she got when she tried forging through was a strong force denying her entry. It appeared everything had to come together piece by piece. “I’m not sure yet. I can’t get a reading on him or her.” Turning her attention to Agent Riviera, she said, “I’m ready to go.”

  He lifted a brow. “Go where?”

  “To retrieve the murder weapon. And I suggest you call in the divers.”

  * * *

  LEO FUMED AS HE paced around his office. Other than getting rid of Constantine and Griffin, everything had failed. He picked up a ceramic pencil holder on his desk, threw it against the wall and watched it shatter into a thousand pieces while the pencils and pens fell to the floor.

  He turned when his phone rang. It was his contact at FBI headquarters. He quickly answered. “Why didn’t you call me back sooner?”

  “I didn’t have time,” the deep, throaty voice responded. “A lot of shit’s been happening with the discovery of those two bodies. Jesus, did you have to be so damn vicious and inhumane? They were unrecognizable.”

  “That’s the way I intended for it to be. Your weak stomach is not my problem. Grow some balls. Now, tell me what you know. Where is the psychic?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is that she left an hour ago with an FBI and police escort, I figure to go to the crime scene. And a few minutes ago our divers got word to be on standby.”

  Leo didn’t like the sound of that. Dr. Fuller was no quack like some believed, and for that reason, he had to get rid of her before she started digging too deep. Even if she did recover the murder weapon, she couldn’t link him to anything. Constantine and Griffin were dead. But still. He couldn’t take any chances. He couldn’t forgive her for ruining his business two years ago, sending him into hiding. “I want her dead.”

  “Your people had their chance and fucked up twice,” his contact said. “Now she has a personal bodyguard as well as FBI protection. If I were you, I’d leave town before she nails your ass. Cousin or no cousin, I refuse to go down with you, Leo. And I need to watch myself. They already suspect someone within the agency is a mole. I don’t want them to point a finger at me.”

 

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