Special Agent Booker

by Mimi Barbour

  Special Agent Booker

  Mimi Barbour

  Sarna Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,

  and incidents are either the product of the

  author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,

  and any resemblance to actual persons

  living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales,

  is entirely coincidental.

  Special Agent Booker

  The Undercover FBI Series – Book 5

  No part of this book may be used or

  reproduced in any manner whatsoever

  without written permission of the author except in the case

  of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contents

  Special Agent Booker

  Dedication

  Praise for other Undercover FBI books

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Chapter Fifty-four

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Chapter Fifty-six

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-one

  Chapter Sixty-two

  Chapter Sixty-three

  Chapter Sixty-four

  Chapter Sixty-five

  Chapter Sixty-six

  Chapter Sixty-seven

  Afterword

  Special Agent Kandice

  Special Agent Maximilian

  The Vegas Series

  Also author of...

  A word about the author:

  Contact me:

  Special Agent Booker

  Undercover FBI Book #5

  by New York Times Best-selling author, Mimi Barbour

  ~*~*~

  Suspense lights up in every page of this fast-paced blockbuster of thrills!

  When Sloan Booker’s father dies tragically, he has no other option but to give up his job as an FBI agent and take over his family’s vehicle restoration business in Oahu, Hawaii. Giving up his badge is difficult but having Homeland Security and his old boss request the use of his house in a stakeout, spying on his Muslim neighbors who they suspect are terrorists, is just too damn much for a man already frazzled. It makes no difference that they’ve offered him a partner to be in charge of the surveillance… until he meets the gorgeous divorcee.

  Special Agent Alia Hawkins might look more like a model than a cop but looks can be deceiving. Not only does she rescue street kids, fights their battles and transports them to safe homes, but since she lived many years in Pakistan and speaks their language, she’s a sought after agent. So far, she’s kept her personal life and job separate. But when Alia’s slimy ex-husband threatens to steal her eight-year-old son, she has no choice but to bring him along on her latest undercover assignment – living with a hotshot, sexy as hell agent as his long lost stepsister. Her life suddenly takes some drastic swerves and she wonders if things will ever slow down.

  Dedication

  This compelling suspense is dedicated to my favorite son, David, who helped me plot the story right from the beginning. I truly feel that it’s because of his creative input that this book is probably the best in Undercover FBI series. It was a blast working with him, peering into the mind of a man the same age as Booker and finding the identical large heart and amazing intelligence.

  (p.s. I should mention – I only have one son :-))))

  Praise for other Undercover FBI books

  “I always enjoy Mimi Barbour book’s her writing is always so good. Her books are always a hit and this one was another Hit. There is a lot of humor and suspense, keep you on your toes till the end…. WOW this book is so GOOD. Special Agent Maximilian is a must read…. I really wish I could give it more then five stars…. Get it today.” ~Reviewed by Chrissybear77

  “I have read every book by Mimi and each one is better than the last. I thought the Vegas series was my favorite but I think this one may just become my new Fav! Love this series and highly recommend any and all books by Mimi!” ~Reviewed by Shirleen

  “Mimi Barbour writes with great strength and realism when it comes to this series of romantic suspense novels. And each one keeps getting better than the last.” ~ Reviewed by ajk (avid reader)

  Chapter One

  Alia scoured the dark parking lot behind the Ilikia Hotel looking for the boy. Palm trees and plumeria decorated the area, but there was no sign of a kid in trouble.

  Ruby had sworn he’d be here, and woken from a dead sleep at three a.m. to jump in her jeans and then drive like a maniac to get to him in time, Alia hadn’t stopped to ask a lot of questions.

  Now she called Ruby using her hands-free in the car. “He’s not here. Did he call you back?”

  “His name is Justin, and no, I haven’t heard from him. He said he’d gotten away from his player; that the guy had roughed him up. He hid out at the Ilikia and another dude came on to him. Scared stupid, he called me, told me he was behind the dumpster.”

  “Okay, I’ll check it out.”

  Alia pulled the car over, got out and headed in that direction. As she approached, she saw a man bending over something wedged in between two dumpsters. “Listen, kid, I don’t want to hurt you. Come out and I’ll buy you something to eat. We’ll talk. You can stay in my room so you’ll have a place to sleep.”

  “Leave me alone. I’m not going anywhere with you.” The boy’s voice cracked, his tone going from soprano to bass in one sentence

  “Hey, is that the way to act with someone who just wants to help? I’m being nice, but I can—”

  “Be a lying prick who wants to get you alone and do nasty things to you. He knows, don’t you, Justin?” Alia stood waiting, hoping her insults would piss off the scumbag enough he’d come at her. Then she could kick the shit out of the perverted prick.

  Tall, with a kangaroo pouch of sloppy fat in front, the guy shot to his feet as if she’d shoved a stick up his ass. “What the fuck! Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Justin’s friend.
And I have a real aversion to pedophiles. Actually, I like to arrest the scum, book ‘em and hope they never get another moment of freedom to do those icky things they like to do.”

  The troll looked her up and down and foolishly decided it was no contest. His fist punched air as she dropped in defense and drove her own up into his groin area. Rolling to the side and then to her feet in the nimble way she’d been trained, she tackled the bent-over screamer and pushed him into the steel side of the dumpster. Then she left her fist imprinted on his balls yet again. About this time, Justin slid out of his hidey-hole to level a kick into the guy’s ribs for his personal parting shot.

  “Enough, kid. Let’s go. He’ll have some healing to do. Hope it ruins the bastard’s Hawaiian holiday.”

  She ran back to her SUV, and Justin followed. Once in the car, she checked him out. The kid was scrawny with a feminine delicacy many young girls would get surgery to have. His features were ethereal: lovely eyes that looked to be a pale color in the car’s dimness, and thick blond hair that hung to his scrawny shoulders curled in ringlets. Justin might have been born a boy, but no doubt he’d pull in top dollar for any pimp who played him right.

  “I’m taking you to a safe home, okay? You called Ruby, and that’s the way this works. They’ll help you. If you want a new start, they’ll make it happen.”

  Slouched in the corner, tears pouring, the youngster sniffed. He looked at her, those big eyes begging not to be judged, and she reached over, her hand open and waiting. Though hardened to some degree by what she’d seen in the past, she still cared about these kids she saved or she’d have stopped taking the calls.

  His hand grasped hers and clung. “Thank you for what you did back there. Even if you are a cop.”

  “I’m actually a federal agent and it was my pleasure. Truly!” She tightened her hand around his and shook it. “I lie… not. It was my pleasure.” She grinned and waited, taking her eyes from the road for a second.

  His fingers squeezed hers tight. “You have no idea what it meant to me seeing you there tonight. No one’s ever saved me before.”

  “Hey, Justin. When you kids call Ruby, either I, or someone like me, will come. It’s as simple as that.”

  Chapter Two

  Booker’s Restorations.

  Sloan Booker finally got it. Why his old man had been so proud of this small business. Seeing your name on a building did give one a kind of chest inflation, even if you secretly resented every minute you were forced to spend there.

  His glance took in the immediate surroundings. The big old tree from the back of the place loomed over the roof, swaying in the island’s breeze. The paved driveway recently redone that circled the area looked clean and classy. As did the front of the shop they’d remodeled to widen the windows, paint the exterior and install new garage doors.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw the stray again. It was like the tabby kitten had his sights on Sloan and had decided he’d be his owner. Blasted animal showed up no matter how many times Sloan put the run on him. He couldn’t bring himself to be too fierce with the green-eyed cutie but cats made him sneeze. It was as simple as that. If one happened to be in his vicinity, he’d be using Kleenex, eye drops and suffering.

  With a hiss, he shooed the little monster away, feeling slightly pissed at the sorrowful glower from his nemesis. “Sorry, kitty, go find someone else to schmooze. I’m allergic.”

  Slightly unsettled, he gathered his patience, squared his shoulders and walked into the newly renovated vehicle restoration shop. No one was around and that gave him a few minutes to survey the setup.

  While his father had been alive, it had been an old barn of a place, with crap everywhere and corners so dark one never knew what critters might be lurking. The smell of entrenched oil mixed with diesel—a fire hazard for sure—had been enough to make one gag. Most of the equipment had needed upgrading, all the old machinery tossed except the pieces that Les had rescued.

  The complete renovation had taken months, plus all of Sloan’s savings. But it had been worth it. At least now he didn’t dread coming to work most mornings.

  Not true.

  Maybe it wasn’t the same as being an FBI agent, when he’d been totally involved in his work, but it paid the bills. And more important, it kept his two gray-whiskered caretakers working and earning wages, which had been his priority for keeping the place running.

  On the days when his talent for detailed drawings to restore cars and trucks was called for, usually when the team first took on a new restoration project, then time passed quickly. During those periods, he came close to being happy, or at least satisfied.

  As soon as he turned on the overhead lights that flooded the newly-laid, pale gray-floored room, he noticed that everything had been neatly organized in Roy’s area, including his multitude of stacked tool boxes, his old ones having been changed over to the modern dark-gray style with drawers and cubbyholes for all his equipment. This orderliness didn’t surprise Sloan.

  Neither did the ungodly mess left scattered of dirty rags, paint spills and crap everywhere in Lester’s corner. That old man was a slob, no other way to describe him. Shaking his head, a grin hovering, Sloan headed to the updated alcove where there was a small lunch area and, best of all, a coffee machine.

  As he got closer, he smelled the Kona beans brewing and knew Les had beaten him there. The old reprobate still got up early most mornings so he could go surfing before work, one of the fringe benefits of living in Hawaii’s key island of Oahu.

  It had been way too long since Sloan’d joined Les in one of his favorite pastimes. The old surfer had taught him how to ride the waves almost as soon as he could walk and he’d loved every minute. He’d have to make the time.

  He grabbed a mug, filled it and headed to his workplace. As he approached, the back of his neck itched, making him damned uncomfortable. He heard voices. Slowly lowering his cup, he picked up a tire iron and slunk to his office door.

  When he’d arrived, the garage had been locked tighter than an old widow’s house after dark. Which made him question how people could have gotten in there?

  What’s going on?

  He listened at the door to the faint rustling of clothes and a chair’s creak. His body tensed, readying itself for action. Suddenly a female voice whispered from close behind him.

  “Something wrong?”

  Chapter Three

  What the fuck…! Sloan jumped, his nerves rioting. “How the hell did you get in here?”

  The lady staring back at him didn’t blink at his rudeness; instead, his edginess made her grin. “I’m with them.” She pointed to the door he’d been listening at.

  Disgusted, Sloan waited to hear an explanation. Where the hell had his skills gone? Eight months ago no one could have snuck up on him like that.

  Roy suddenly appeared and spoke to the light-haired beauty who’d shocked the shit out of him. “Missy, didn’t I tell you to wait for me in the coffee room?”

  She flipped her head in a saucy way, sniffed and replied. “Can’t a lady go to the bathroom in this joint without getting in trouble?”

  Roy stepped back. “Oh darn, I wasn’t very thoughtful leaving you here alone. Glad you found your way.”

  She pointed to the washroom sign on the wall and added, “That kinda helped.”

  Totally off-kilter, genuinely flustered in the way the senior tended to be around females, Roy added, “I’m sorry. I had to take the garbage out. Les left a mess lying around, stinking up the place, and I wanted to catch the truck this morning.” Obviously upset, his Santa-like face turned red and he swallowed hard.

  Reaching to touch his arm, she spoke gently. “Please, think nothing of it.” Blue eyes, as vivid as Roy’s own, twinkled at him. Sloan watched his friend melt. He enjoyed the moment until he heard sounds filtering through the door again.

  “Excuse me for butting in on your lovefest.” Sloan didn’t try to hide his grumpiness. “If you two don’t mind being interrupted, what th
e hell is going on here? And who’s in there?”

  Gesturing his head toward the female, his way of telling Sloan to curb his tongue ‘cause there was a lady present, Roy answered, “You mean the other two agents who came calling a few minutes ago? I let them in there to wait for ya.”

  Heat poured into Sloan’s face as he tossed his weapon onto the nearby tool chest. He glared his embarrassment at the old brat, who was having trouble hiding his glee at having caught Sloan off-guard.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you let them in?”

  “I thought I just did.”

  “Roy, quit messing with me. There’ve been a lot of thefts in the neighborhood lately. It’s made me cautious.”

  Roy’s eyes widened, the vivid blue attention-getters flashing in his otherwise nondescript white-bearded face. Sloan had his interest now. “I forgot about that. Sorry, I should have stuck around to warn you.”

  Knowing that a situation like this could upset Roy for days, Sloan hurried to soothe him. “No problem, Roy. It’s fine.”

  Paying attention and not trying to hide it, the lady questioned with a no-nonsense attitude, “Have you had any break-ins so far?”

  “Not since I installed the alarm system with the video surveillance.” Sloan shrugged. “I figure even kids know where they shouldn’t be messing around.” His glance slid past her to Roy. “So, who’s visiting?” Sloan arched his head toward the door of his office.

  “One of them is your old partner, Don. He’s with another man who looked around the place like it was the same dump it used to be.”

  Sloan knew how much old Roy had loved the changes, unlike the other gray-haired orphan he’d inherited from his dad. Les still grumbled about the updates, muttering about how he could never find anything.

  “Don’s the only reason I let them in; figured you’d be happy to see him.”

  “I’m always happy to see him outside of business hours. Not so much if he’s making an official call.” Sloan raised his eyebrow at the attractive woman dressed in a casual light blue business suit. Sporting a flared short skirt, it showed her tanned legs to advantage. She waited until he’d looked his fill and stared back without a speck of emotion.