Searching (PAVAD- FBI Romantic Suspense Book 18)

by Calle J. Brookes

  The photos had been taken at Emery’s birthday party.

  Jac herself was just visible in the background behind the youngest Sturvin daughter. Jac had the girl’s favorite stuffed animal in her hand.

  She stared at that photo for a long time. There was cake on Ava’s T-shirt. Jac had cleaned the little girl up herself while Rachel was busy, then played with the little girl’s stuffed purple emu. Apparently, Jac had missed that spot of cake in the cleanup.

  Personal. This case already went well beyond personal.

  She trembled before she looked at Miranda on her left. Miranda hadn’t looked away from Edith. She’d paled, and looked sick.

  “Have any of the forensics reports started coming in yet?” she asked. Max was the agent in charge. That was a good thing.

  She knew how he worked, he knew how she worked, and together…together they would find those little girls. And the killer.

  Dani nodded. “Starting to. Preliminaries.”

  “I’ll head down to forensics in a moment. Any word from the field?” Jac asked as thunder shook the building. Storms were on the forecast off and on for the next few days. That could slow them down.

  Whitman shook his head. “Still canvassing. Still looking for Paul Sturvin. Neighbors confirm he travels a lot setting up consulting gigs for his IT company. On the surface, he and his wife are exactly what they appear to be. We’re waiting on warrants to get deeper into their financials and online activity. It might take an hour or two; I do have the legal department trying to escalate on exigent circumstances.”

  “The search for Paul coordinates through you, here? You’ll take point on coordinating information?” Max said.

  “I can handle that.” Miranda put her hand on Jac’s shoulder. “We’ll find those kids, Jac. We have to stay positive.”

  “Every minute we are here, putting this together, is another minute we get farther from doing just that. But I don’t know what else we can do,” Jac said, knowing her friend would understand what she meant. Jac looked at the rest of the people at the table. “You should know—Max and I both know the Sturvin family. I took these photos—in Max’s house ten days ago. This…is very personal for me.”

  “For us,” Max added. “Both.”

  “Then we follow our training. We’re good at what we do. We have to trust that. We have protocols for a reason,” Miranda said quietly. Barnes was there, just watching them. Jac had already almost forgotten him. “Because they’ve been proven to work as much as anything else can in this business. We have no reason to believe anything has happened to Olivia and Ava.”

  “Livy, she likes to go by Livy. All her friends’ names end in -y or -ie, she told me. And she wanted to be different than her sister, and like her friends instead. Rachel...Rachel was humoring her. But it angered Paul, so she would only do it when he wasn’t around.”

  “You met him. Tell me about him,” Miranda said softly. “Initial impressions.”

  Jac thought back to Emery’s party.

  It had been such a beautiful day. A good memory.

  Now, it would forever be tainted by this.

  “He is just your ordinary man in his early forties. He’s not particularly fit—nor unfit, not overly handsome, not even particularly well-groomed. He’s around your height, I think. About thirty pounds overweight. I remember him sweating. Which was crazy; Max’s place wasn’t hot that day. He seemed anxious about everything. He watched every move the children made. He was a nervous guy. He was the man that stuck out as just not fitting well with the rest of the group.”

  “How did he act with his wife and children?” someone asked from behind her. Whit, she thought, though she didn’t turn.

  “I just saw him with the girls in passing. I spent more time with Rachel. Even more time with the girls. The little one...she was competing with her older sister for attention amongst all the older kids in the room. She was one of the few not elementary-school aged. She recognized me from her sister’s sporting events; so I gave her some extra attention while her mother was busy helping with drinks. I held her, played with her, for about ten minutes. Paul was around, watching. Until he joined the other fathers in the media room that day. Rachel made a joke about him wanting to hobnob with the really important people in the room—especially Ken Chalmers. He was following Ken around. It stood out. She was embarrassed by it. She’d just asked him to take the younger girl to the restroom, and he cut her down. Refused to do it. I ended up taking her myself.”

  “Signs of abuse?” Miranda asked.

  Jac shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t see any overt signs. And I never have. No bruises on either girl. Both are bright, happy, outgoing, and extremely confident. Rachel was a quiet, timid woman, but I got the impression that was more personality than anything. Maybe there was abuse, and I missed it, but my instinct says not of the girls. Maybe if I had seen something—”

  “Maybe you could have done something to stop this?” Max’s voice came from somewhere behind her. Then a strong hand landed on her free shoulder. Miranda on her left, Max on her right. Jac pulled in a deep breath. “Maybe we both could have. I interacted with the Sturvins just as much as you did, Jac. This could have been random. Maybe someone thought the house was empty. Broke in and surprised her.”

  Random would make it so much more difficult to find the answers. Jac hoped it wasn’t random, hoped there was an explanation stronger than just simple bad luck. But if it had been random, there was a greater chance the girls had been nowhere near that house last night.

  “It doesn’t feel random.”

  “The neighbors say Edith Lindsay took her dog out every night at 12:05 on the dot. After her favorite show ended. They said they tried to talk her into going out a little earlier, maybe getting a DVR or something, but she insisted that the dog had a set routine. She loved that dog,” Max said. “She...she’s as good as a liver temp for time of death.”

  “Who could bludgeon an eighty-two-year-old woman to death for any reason?” Miranda asked. Jac silently echoed that question.

  “After attacking a stay-at-home mother inside her home.” Jac thought for a moment. “Rachel was targeted, most likely. Mrs. Lindsay was simply to cover the crime. Or buy the killer time to escape, I mean. There is no way to cover this.”

  Max’s hand squeezed her shoulder in comfort, then fell away. “I have Rachel’s contacts from her phone. I’m getting auxiliary agents to start calling around. See if someone can find out where Rachel and Paul might have sent the girls for the evening. But we shouldn’t just jump to zebras from horses. It’s possible Paul took his daughters somewhere. Or maybe they have separated, and he had the girls for the night. There could easily be a simple explanation for their location. Has anyone contacted Brynlock for more specifics? I know the director spoke with them earlier. They might have an insight to the girls and their home life. Other than her husband, we’re still trying to run down the closest next of kin.”

  Jac looked at Max and pulled in a steadying breath. “I called the school. Spoke with the principal, Jayda Hewitt, actually. No signs of Livy. Ava only attends preschool three times a week. She would most likely have been with her mother today. Does Paul have employees?”

  “No call on the attendance line?” Max asked. “It’s automated.”

  Jac shook her head. “Nothing. Jayda said Livy hasn’t missed a single day of school since original enrollment in preschool four years ago. She’s had no issues with the family in that entire time, other than somewhat routine late-tuition notices. But she said many of the Brynlock families were in the same situation since the tuition hike two years ago.”

  It was possible it could be coincidental, but the odds were stacking up: something had happened to those little girls, too.

  She prayed they’d be alive when PAVAD found them.

  38

  Todd knew exactly who his contact at PAVAD was going to be. As soon as he could, he shook that prick Whitman and headed down to the first floor where Lytel wa
s assigned. He’d had to tell Whitman he needed to take a piss and call his own mother while they waited for the warrants the guy was all about getting.

  He had worked with Eugene Lytel before. Then Lytel had gotten PAVAD in the auxiliary resource agents department. Todd had wondered why many times before.

  Lytel certainly wasn’t anything special.

  Then again, he’d heard Lytel was a connection of the director’s going back almost twenty-five years. Lytel was connected to both the director and Colonel Boyd Jones. Two very powerful men, when it came down to it.

  He was part of the fifty-agent auxiliary unit. Used to do grunt work and canvassing. And guard details. Nothing special.

  Lytel’s team was PAVAD cannon fodder. Everyone knew that.

  As far as Todd knew, Lytel spent most of his time researching and doing door-to-door canvases when needed or babysitting the director’s snooty wife when she deigned to come off her throne in forensics.

  He was nothing special. Lytel never would be.

  Lytel was his tie to the real people pulling Todd’s strings now, if Todd ever wanted to move up in the bureau.

  Todd wanted to be the director of the whole shebang someday.

  He wasn’t thinking PAVAD any longer.

  He’d been promised Washington. Todd was going to make that happen.

  Sometimes, you had to play the game.

  Todd knew how the game was supposed to be played. Quid pro quo. Todd gave them what they wanted.

  In return, Todd got what he wanted.

  Todd almost whistled as he hustled down the hall, just imagining the fall of Edward Dennis and his puppets.

  Max Jones walked by, on his way to his office now. Todd’s lip curled. He had always hated that guy. Everything Jones touched was golden. Max Jones hadn’t ever messed up, apparently.

  He had the position now that should have been Todd’s. Everyone knew that. But Jones had friends at PAVAD. Jones had been in St. Louis for years; the other man had had ample opportunity to make those kinds of friends.

  Friends Todd most certainly did not have. Yet.

  But Todd had friends outside PAVAD. Friends who were going to start delivering on the favors they owed Todd. Finally.

  Todd had been banking up those IOUs for years. It was time to cash them in. Todd stayed where he was and watched some of the PAVAD agents now as they were in the preliminary stages of the hunt for who had killed that woman and possibly taken those girls.

  He hadn’t realized Jaclyn knew the family involved.

  That stunk for her. Todd had never lost anyone he’d been friends with before. He’d been lucky that way. It was no wonder she felt so distracted.

  It was obvious Jaclyn Jones was pulling lead for this one.

  She shouldn’t be anywhere near this case. That was information he’d use if he had to. He didn’t want to cause trouble for her; for the most part, he liked her. She’d never been a bitch to him, for one thing.

  Not like the great Dr. Talley.

  If Jaclyn’s father wasn’t as important as he was, she probably wouldn’t be in St. Louis. He didn’t blame her for taking advantage of that. They all had to do what they had to do. To be honest, Todd doubted she would be at PAVAD at all if it hadn’t been for her father’s contacts at the justice department. Everyone knew how important Colonel Boyd Jones was in Washington.

  Those types of connections could come in handy.

  Hell, maybe he should push to get Jaclyn to go out with him sooner rather than later. Her father’s connections could do wonders for Todd’s career. He wasn’t going to be at PAVAD for long, after all. Maybe he’d be stationed in New York after this. Or California. One of the California posts would be great.

  Honolulu would be the best, though. Maybe he’d ask for that.

  He’d need to work a few years to build his reputation before he could ever hope to get Washington. Todd would get there—eventually.

  First, he’d mark some time with Jaclyn. Help her take her mind off this friend of hers.

  It wouldn’t be a hardship to screw around with Jaclyn at all. He’d imagined doing just that before.

  Of course, he’d imagined doing that with her good buddy Talley, too.

  All that fire in her…yeah…taming Miranda Talley would be one hell of a ride. If a man was stupid enough to climb on.

  Todd looked around the bullpen as he finally gave up looking for Lytel and returned to the CCU’s floor. He’d find the guy when he could. Right now, he needed to make himself useful. Put his eyes on the CCU where they belonged.

  He had been told to get information after all. He’d trade it—for the connections he needed.

  He’d been assigned the worst desk in the place—right next to the elevators. Not so bad, in his opinion. He could see every person who stepped foot on the CCU’s floor. That could prove handy.

  But it was a knock against him—and he knew that. Someone in PAVAD was already screwing with him.

  Stupid fucking pricks.

  He didn’t get ahold of Lytel for another two hours. He’d kept himself busy digging up everything he could find about that stupid prick Sturvin’s business contacts.

  What had made Sturvin snap and kill his wife now? That was pretty stupid of the guy.

  If they caught that guy, Todd would have to make sure Sturvin didn’t get a good look at him. It had been dark that night at Brynlock, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

  All Todd had done, after all, was deliver an envelope as a favor to someone from his own field office. Wasn’t anything wrong with that.

  Jaclyn was at the end of the bullpen where team two tended to congregate when he finished his little meeting with Lytel and made it back up to the team.

  The computer analyst—Danielle something or other—was at her side. He wondered at that. Jaclyn was more than capable of doing that particular job herself.

  At first, he had been certain Jaclyn was one of those socially awkward screwup computer nerds. But she was actually pretty decent in the field.

  Miranda Talley was hovering at Jaclyn’s side.

  The digital screens behind the three women flashed, changed. Bloody crime scene photos spread out on the screen. Todd tried not to flinch.

  He’d admit it: he’d always hated the sight of blood. Of victims.

  Those dead women hadn’t deserved to be treated like that. To be left like that. Whoever had done that needed to be found and stopped soon.

  Even if it had been Sturvin.

  Someone bumped him from behind. Todd turned.

  He sneered. He recognized the tall, dark-haired man who’d stopped in the bullpen. No doubt looking for that fluff-brained blond bitch of a wife of his. She ran team five now, he thought.

  Probably because of who her older brothers were. They’d certainly greased the wheels for her.

  He’d always thought Seth Lorcan was a stupid prick. He should have been tossed out of the bureau long ago. Todd had thought he would have been after that screwup with Riaz two or three years back. But no…he’d ended up getting rewarded and assigned to PAVAD. And a hot bitch in Lorcan’s bed whenever he wanted her.

  Of course.

  She’d fallen right into Lorcan’s lap. Now, she walked around with her stomach jutting out in front of her, getting attention wherever she went. Todd wanted her team. Her going on maternity leave soon would be his ticket. After this case. Once it was over, he’d confront Dennis about what he was due. But first, he wanted that asshole Sturvin to pay for what he did last night. “What do you want, Lorcan?”

  “How long are you sticking around, Barnesy?”

  “As long as it takes. I’m joining the CCU soon.”

  Lorcan snorted. “Like hell you are. I predict you’ll be gone within a week.”

  “Don’t you have some blond piece of ass around here to screw or something?” Of course, he did. Lorcan’s wife was none other than the precious little sister of two important players in PAVAD. Lorcan’s own two identical brothers were just as im
portant around the place.

  No other division in the bureau had ever had as many biological connections as PAVAD.

  It was almost unbelievable.

  Until one took into account nepotism. The Nepotism Game at its finest.

  Starting with Ed Dennis and his wife and daughter.

  That shit shouldn’t be allowed.

  The scar at his temple twitched. If PAVAD had been as good as it was, Todd wouldn’t have gotten knocked in the head with a damned lead pipe. Hard to forget that.

  Ed Dennis owed him something for that.

  “Watch it, Barnesy. Or I’ll feed you to the giant in IA. You know how he feels about you—and I’m his favorite brother-in-law now, don’t you know? Better yet, I heard Cam Lake’s team just made it back. Bet Cam is going to be thrilled to find you hanging around this place. Maybe he and Mick will draw straws to see who gets to deal with you first?” Lorcan shot him a grin, and then the middle finger. Low enough no one could see. “Don’t get too comfortable around here. We all know it’s just a temporary gig. No one wants you here.”

  “Yet here I am.” Todd smirked, though he didn’t feel confident at all. He wasn’t stupid. He hadn’t exactly made a whole lot of friends around the place. Nothing he could do would change that.

  If they hadn’t treated him like shit, then what happened next—each time—wouldn’t have happened. It was their own damned faults.

  But they were part of the popular clique around this place. He hadn’t had a chance of getting back into PAVAD, thanks to them.

  Todd had had no choice but to make a deal.

  Maybe he’d sold his soul to the devil, but it was well worth it. Washington would be his someday.

  And he was going to uphold his part of that deal. It wasn’t too hard of a gig. A bit of information here and there, a few deliveries.

  He was good enough at what he did to keep it in check.

  Todd was keeping notes of every contact they made with him, anyway. He could always say he was investigating—going cowboy because he didn’t know who he could trust.