Searching (PAVAD- FBI Romantic Suspense Book 18)

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Searching (PAVAD- FBI Romantic Suspense Book 18) Page 10

by Calle J. Brookes


  “Marianna brought the twins?” Rumor had it that the director was keeping his family under wraps lately.

  Since Andy.

  “Maybe. Or maybe they just cloned themselves when my back was turned. At this point I just do not know.”

  She didn’t have much time with him after that—thank goodness. Jac ended up acting as the unofficial hostess, keeping things moving smoothly while Max prepped the food and drinks. She never even made it to the rec room in the first hour she was there.

  Jac was just kept too busy for that. She didn’t have a chance to talk to him about what was going on with Emery, either.

  Jac was as comfortable in Max’s home as her own. She’d missed him and Emery. Missed the social connections being so involved in Emery’s life had brought her. She had spent two or three nights a week with Max and his daughter, outside of PAVAD.

  To have that suddenly change had hurt. There had been a real void. She’d thought to fill it by finally buying her own home and focusing on that, but it hadn’t been the same.

  She had never expected that it would be.

  It occurred to her as she was helping carry gifts to the rec room that they had become her world for those years. Almost her entire world. Only Nat—who she’d seen maybe three or four times a year before her sister transferred to St. Louis—and Miranda, who was in and out of St. Louis sometimes on opposite cases from Jac, had also had a place.

  That had just made the rift between her and Max all that much more painful. Probably more so than it should have been.

  She’d meant what she’d said to Emery, though.

  If Max would allow it, she’d do her best to spend time with Emery whenever she could. That was one promise she intended to keep.

  “Let me help you with that,” a female voice said as Jac was juggling the last of the heaping pile of presents.

  Jac recognized the voice. She smiled at the blond woman who’d just come in. “Hi, Rachel, I’m glad you and the girls could make it.”

  “We had a bit of car trouble, but Paul brought us in his sedan. We’re a little late. I’ll make my apologies to Max in a moment. You look like you need help.” Rachel Sturvin took half the stack, giving Jac her characteristic shy smile. “The girls have already run off in search of Emery. They hero-worship her.”

  Jac looked past Rachel, a woman she’d volunteered with at Brynlock several times over the past two years, to the man she vaguely recalled seeing before.

  Rachel’s husband was a bit on the ordinary-looking side. He had a slight paunch, and she thought he was a good ten years or so older than Rachel. At least three or four years older than Max, she thought, but he looked far older and far less put together.

  He wore a suit, but it was wrinkled, and his tie hung slightly crooked. He was sweating, profusely.

  She was immensely glad her hands were full, and she couldn’t shake his. Jac didn’t like touching strange men at all—even handshakes. She doubly felt that right now. “Hello, Mr. Sturvin, we’re glad you and your family could make it today. Max is currently in the rec room, supervising the party games. There are a few other fathers back there, too. They were making noises about moving into the media room and watching the game in there.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Jones. You have a lovely home,” he said in a slightly nasal voice. He looked around, obvious curiosity in his eyes. He was cataloging everything in Max’s home; she just knew it. When he looked back at her, she knew he was cataloging her as well.

  He was the exact opposite of Rachel.

  “Please, it’s Jaclyn. Most call me Jac. And I’m not Mrs. Jones. Max and I aren’t married. I am an Agent Jones, though. We work together at the FBI.”

  “So you and Dr. Jones are siblings, cousins?”

  “No. Just colleagues and friends—with a very common last name. Please feel free to grab a soda or something. All the refreshments are on the table along the far wall.”

  “Thanks, Jac. Anything I can do to help after this?” Rachel asked.

  “Max may need a break. He’s great at crowd control, but when the crowd is a bunch of little girls, I think he gets overwhelmed. They terrify him from his shaggy head down to his overly large toes.”

  Rachel laughed, quietly. She was usually a more subdued woman. But she had a wicked sense of humor and a great knack for gardening. She had already volunteered to help Jac figure out something to do with the area around the walkway of her new place. “I can understand. We still on for Saturday next?”

  “Of course,” Jac said. “I put in for a few comp days, just to make certain. My friend Miranda will be joining us. Her sister runs a nursery in Wyoming. Miranda has promised me starts off of anything we want, as long as her sister has them. If we get the planning done in time. You’ll like her. Miranda can be very entertaining. Especially when she misbehaves.”

  “Great. I’m looking forward to it.” Rachel beamed at her. Jac understood; Rachel’s closest friend had moved recently. Jac suspected the other woman was feeling a little lonely and adrift right now. Looking for connections with other women—connections outside of her children.

  Jac could understand that. She was looking for connections outside of PAVAD.

  Jac finally got a good look at the guests as she stepped into the rec room. There were around thirty kids, mostly little girls around Emery’s age, with a few boys thrown into the mix. And a good twenty adults. She recognized some from the school.

  And some from PAVAD.

  Including the director of the forensics lab. Jac’s friend Cody, head of the automotive-forensics department, was there with her daughter nearby, too. Lucy was a few years younger than Emery, but they all attended the same school. Brynlock was small; the different grades often grouped together for events and specialty classes. And PAVAD kids saw each other often, it seemed.

  “It’s appreciated,” Max said, bringing her attention back to him. The man looked good with the oversized red apron wrapped around his jean-clad hips. Very…mouth-watering, when she thought about it. “I don’t suppose you want to volunteer to help with the cooking?”

  “Not in a heartbeat. I’m just here as a guest this year since you decided I have girl cooties. You’re on your own, now.”

  “You are heartless, Jaclyn Jones. Utterly heartless. Gorgeous. But heartless.”

  “You’d better believe it.” She looked around once, ignoring the masculine appreciation in his eyes. She wouldn’t think about the last time he’d looked at her like that. “I’m going to go say hello to Cody. I haven’t seen her at PAVAD for a few weeks.”

  “She’s taking some time off to spend with the kids over Christmas, I believe Sin said.” Max moved closer. He leaned down. “Thanks for coming. I...I know it means a lot to Emery. She’s missed you. And Pamela hurt her this morning. I want to wring that woman’s neck for that. She could have delayed her trip for a few hours. We can talk later. I have a few things to say to you, too.”

  Jac just nodded. This was not a conversation she wanted to have now. As far as she was concerned, they’d discussed it in his office. It wasn’t getting any more of her attention than that. “I...we’ll just put it behind us. Ok? Life moves on. We move on. For Emery.”

  25

  Life moved on. Max thought that was a good way to put what had happened between him and Jac.

  Today was the first step in making things right.

  Even if they didn’t get back what they had once had, he wanted them to be back on a balanced front. For his daughter’s sake, if nothing else. This morning’s phone call from his ex-wife had just cemented that.

  Like Emery had told him when she’d disconnected from the call with her mother, at least Jac had promised to be there.

  Jac would be there. Emery had just known it. Because Jac had promised.

  Max had been sweating, worrying the weather would keep Jac from delivering on that promise.

  As he watched, Emery and a few of her friends ran up to Jac. Emery hugged her quickly, beaming. His d
aughter adored Jac.

  And it was mutual. He’d been an idiot to jeopardize that because his hormones rose up and shocked him at how strong they had been. Hell, if he hadn’t run from her, maybe he would already have her right where he wanted her.

  Maybe she wouldn’t be going home after the party, then. Max had plenty of regrets for how he had handled things.

  “Pretty lady,” a male voice said behind him. “Your sister? I believe I heard she was Emery’s aunt from Olivia.”

  “No, Jac and I aren’t related. She’s a colleague and friend. We just happen to have the same last name.” Paul Sturvin had accompanied his wife and two daughters to the party. This was only the second time Max had met the man. He had met Rachel several times before and found her quiet and kind.

  Jac knew her better. Jac had filled in as room parent for him at Brynlock many times when cases had sent him and the rest of the team out of state and Jac had remained behind to work the computer-tech side of things. She’d bailed him out more times than he could count.

  Just how much help she’d been in raising Emery over the last three or four years finally wasn’t lost on him. At all. He couldn’t have done it without her. And he could not repay her for what she had helped him do. Ever.

  “My mistake. My daughter had mentioned Emery’s aunt, and I just assumed...”

  “Easy mistake.” And one he understood. It was the red in their hair. Jac had told him that hers was identical to her mother’s. Hers was a richer brownish red than his daughter’s strawberry blond, but from a distance, it was easy to assume there was a biological tie between the two. Especially when one watched them together.

  Jac was so easy with Emery, relaxed. Natural.

  Then again, she looked relaxed with all of the kids surrounding her. Children had a way of getting Jac to open up quickly. He’d noticed that before.

  Probably because they weren’t threats.

  “Emery and Jac are very close. She’s been a great friend to both of us the years we’ve known her. We were team partners for several years.”

  “She’s with the bureau?” Sturvin asked, almost incredulously. “She doesn’t look the type.”

  From what he recalled, Sturvin was a consultant with the FBI located in St. Louis. Something to do with the IT divisions, of both PAVAD and the regular field office. But he didn’t think their paths had crossed often.

  Max was almost certain he’d seen Sturvin in the building recently. Maybe. Paul Sturvin was the type to blend in.

  “Jac and I are both with PAVAD.”

  Sturvin let out a whistle between his teeth. “Nice.”

  PAVAD’s Complex Crimes Unit did have a reputation that was growing within the law enforcement industry. “We’ve been with PAVAD since the beginning. Before.”

  “She’s an agent?”

  “Yes. Joint specialties. She is one of the best.” Looks could be deceiving; Jac looked like she should be sitting on the board of fifteen different charities, using her wealthy family’s money for good, in between manicures and dinner parties. She had that understated sheen of sophistication that a wealthy background gave some women.

  She’d grown up in just that environment. Like Pamela had. They both came from very affluent backgrounds. With abuse in their history. It was a coincidence he had contemplated before.

  Pamela had gone toward corporate law and her money-making ambitions; Jac had chosen law school after getting her undergraduate degree in computer science as well.

  The bureau had recruited Jac straight out of law school, weeks before she’d even passed the bar.

  She didn’t look like a federal agent at all.

  She looked like a wealthy soccer mom. Especially with a little girl of around four held on her hip while she talked with the blond woman next to her.

  Paul Sturvin’s wife, Max thought. The young girl Jac held was his daughter. No wonder Jac had captured his attention.

  “Proves point that you can’t judge someone by how they appear,” Paul said. “Thank you for inviting us. Olivia has been struggling to make connections with the other children, since we moved her up a grade midsemester.”

  Max just nodded. He suspected he knew why the man had latched on to him. There weren’t a great number of men in attendance—no surprise, considering it was a little girl’s birthday party. “We’re glad she could make it. Emery is very fond of her.”

  He listened to Paul drone on, his attention more on the women chatting and laughing than on the man next to him.

  Jac liked Rachel a great deal. It was in how she was laughing. How relaxed she was. She reached out and wiped the little girl’s face with a paper towel. Natural. He smiled.

  He liked seeing Jac like that. Most of all, he loved seeing Jac happy again. She looked over at him. Their eyes met.

  Max made himself a vow. He wasn’t letting her leave without telling her exactly how he felt. He’d waited long enough.

  26

  Jaclyn. Paul stood back as the party guests delved into the traditional cake and punch and ice cream. And presents. He did his best to hide his excitement.

  She was a mark; he wasn’t supposed to be fascinated by her. It just didn’t work that way. His one and only job right now was to find out all the dirt on her that he possibly could.

  Pure coincidence she was there in front of him now.

  The woman, Jaclyn, was at the forefront of the party. It was obvious Dr. Jones’s daughter was close to Jaclyn. As was Dr. Jones. The child looked for her often, much the way Olivia and Ava looked for Rachel.

  Maybe Jaclyn and Max Jones were having an affair? It was possible, though he hadn’t confirmed it yet. He’d make note to check into it. That could be potentially useful information.

  Jaclyn would make an excellent mother; it was evident in how she interacted with the children around her. So graceful.

  He pursed his lips and forced himself not to scowl at his wife. This birthday party was not an event he had originally approved. She had insisted the girls be free to attend and had argued with him for an hour before he’d given in and driven them himself, though she knew he had some very important work to do.

  Rachel had said it would make it easier on Olivia at school.

  Dr. Jones’s daughter was a year-and-a-half older, but they were in the same portion of the building. And in some of the same combined classes.

  Looking around, he wasn’t too put out by the ones Rachel now chose to associate with. Perhaps she had learned her lesson last time.

  It had taken him six months to chase off Claudetta, the last woman she’d become friends with without Paul’s permission.

  Paul studied each guest quickly. That was the director of PAVAD’s wife there. The one who was the ex-wife of a state senator from Indiana, he believed. Another woman was the daughter of a local politician. Her daughter was running around with his somewhere nearby.

  Even the Jones girl was a connection of the Chicago Holstelds. That was an important connection to foster. Rachel had informed him of the little girl’s lineage on the drive over.

  Paul winced; Rachel had known exactly how to play him today. That concerned him. Yes; those kinds of connections met his approval. What didn’t was how Rachel had behaved.

  Once things fell into place, and Paul received payment for his work with the FBI databases, those connections could be extremely important.

  He needed to earn the trust of the people at this very party. Just in case that side gig didn’t quite work out the way he needed it to.

  Paul probably needed to find Rachel or the children and show how much of a good husband and father he was. Set things up for later.

  This party was more fortuitous than he had assumed during the drive over when he’d been arguing with Rachel.

  Paul still hadn’t forgiven or forgotten her blatant disregard for the rules. Rachel knew better than that. She should have run this party by him first.

  She’d demanded to know why. He wasn’t certain his answer had satisfied her at al
l.

  He was going to have to make it known exactly how he felt tonight. When he had her alone.

  Rachel needed to be reminded of who was in charge.

  It wasn’t her, and it never would be.

  27

  Max’s beautiful house looked like a crime scene.

  Jac had seen far too many of those. But nothing like this.

  Jac took another look around, then revised her initial evaluation. There was a definite resemblance to the worst disaster scene she’d ever seen.

  It looked like a…well, there was no real word for it. It looked like the aftermath of chaos that only thirty-eight children under the age of twelve could create.

  The PAVAD parents of the Brynlock kids had helped with some of the cleanup, but she doubted Max’s rec room would ever be fully the same again. Red punch stained the concrete floor everywhere she looked. He’d probably have to put some paint on it at some point.

  Jac really hoped that was chocolate icing smeared on the wall—and not something else. The Hellbrooks’ two-year-old had been over in that corner while her grandmother was busy with Evalyn’s older brother Matthew. That…anything could have happened.

  There was no way Jac was going over there. Max would have to handle that corner by himself.

  There were balloons floating halfway to the floor, obscuring visibility as the helium leaked free.

  Emery was curled up in her new gaming chair, an American Girl book in her hands, and the new 1980s-style eighteen-inch doll Jac had bought her sitting on her lap. She’d been asking for that particular doll for months.

  The 1980s accessories were cool now—because they were vintage. That cracked Jac up when she thought about it.

  Emery had cat ear headphones on her ears and an iPod plugged in. The doll wore headphones and had a cassette player in bright colors. Jac had picked it out herself.

  Jac was doing her best to get the ghosting balloons down and into a trash bag. Max was grabbing trash bags out of the kitchen.

 

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