Unwrapped: Clear Security's Holiday (Clear Security Holiday Book 2)

by Ainsley St Claire

  “I’ll do that, but you know I was just asking where she might meet someone, not signing you up for the job.”

  He nods. “I know, but you’re right—it’s not easy. I can’t date clients, and that’s who I meet, so this might be fun.” He opens the door for me.

  “I’ll let her know.” I wave goodbye.

  “What was that about?” Bash asks.

  “I asked Dominic on the ride home yesterday where Erin might be able to meet someone, and today he said I should give her his number.”

  “Oh, jeez. Jim is going to be upset.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “The guys aren’t allowed to date clients.”

  “First off, she’s my client, and I’m introducing them after this is over.”

  “We do work for her, too.”

  I’m not getting in the middle of their company politics. I asked Dominic if he knew where she might meet someone, and he was interested. So what? “You guys work for almost everyone. I guess you’ll have to figure it out.”

  We arrive at The Dungeon just before three. Erin meets us at the door in a black-leather corset, thigh-high fishnet stockings, and four-inch stilettos. Her makeup is severe, and her hair is blown out like a Texas beauty queen. She’s wearing the brass knuckles ring, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it makes contact with someone’s jaw this afternoon. She looks nothing like the wholesome girl from Iowa City we saw yesterday.

  “Come on in,” she says. “Let’s go to my office.”

  I nod and spot Monica talking to one of the other employees as she prepares the garnishes for drinks she thinks she’ll be serving tonight. Evan is in Erin’s office, standing in a leather thong and not making eye contact in his submissive pose. His chest is hairless, and his legs are muscled and powerful.

  “It’s a full house already,” I note.

  Erin nods. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Sparkling water with a lime wedge for me,” I say.

  “I’ll have the same,” Bash agrees.

  “Evan, go get the drinks.”

  He bows and leaves.

  A text message pings on Erin’s phone. “Seems our friends are right on time.”

  We walk back to the front door, and Erin lets in a dozen FBI agents, directing them to the bar area. It’s quick, fast, and dirty. They swarm in and employees scream, a bit of panic ensuing.

  The lead agent walks up to Evan and Monica at the bar and announces that they’re both under arrest. Monica closes her eyes and holds them shut. Evan looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

  Within moments they’re handcuffed, paraded past all the other employees, and escorted to waiting vehicles. The FBI searches the premises, and an agent pulls a camera from the potted palm. They also locate a camera with a telephoto lens hidden upstairs.

  When 3:30 arrives, we’re still dealing with the police as the email hits everyone’s inbox. I notice several people reading it from their cell phones, and there’s some whispering. After a little more than an hour, the FBI is gone.

  Erin climbs up to stand on a chair with Bash’s help. “I know this isn’t how we wanted to start the holiday, but I couldn’t allow anyone to take advantage of our clients,” she tells her remaining employees. “They depend on us for discretion. Unfortunately, Evan and Monica forgot that and will find themselves in jail. Don’t make the same mistake. I love and trust all of you—until you show me I shouldn’t.”

  “We’re with you,” says Tiffany, the receptionist.

  Several others agree.

  As everyone gets back to work, Erin pulls Tiffany aside. “If anyone calls and says they need a break from their membership or wants a refund, please tell them I will do what I can.”

  Tiffany gives a single-shoulder shrug. “We’ve already had a lot of calls. Most people are seeing if you need anything. They all support you. This is a tight community.”

  Tears shine in Erin’s eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Bash and I are going to head out,” I tell her with a hug. “We have a client in court tomorrow, and we need to get things finalized.”

  She nods. “Go. I need to call my benefactor anyway. Send me the bill when you get a chance. And I was serious—if you two want to enjoy some of our amenities, don’t hesitate to ask. No charge. You saved my bacon.”

  Bash holds my hand as we walk out. “I love a happy ending.”

  “I’ll be happy when we have that for Hunter tomorrow.”

  He smiles. “Agreed.”

  Chapter 26

  Bash

  Things went great at The Dungeon earlier this afternoon, but—no rest for the wicked—now we’re meeting at Fiona’s office to get ready for tomorrow’s court appearance for Hunter.

  When Damien walks in, his tie is crooked and the top two buttons are undone—and we haven’t even been to court yet.

  “Ready for the holiday?” I ask.

  He rolls his eyes. “Actually, I can’t wait to get to the other side of this wedding. It’s been crazy at home.”

  Shannon walks in with trays of Mediterranean food for dinner. I see skewers of chicken, beef, and lamb, plus pita, baba ganoush, four kinds of hummus, and tzatziki.

  “This is a perfect pretrial treat,” I tell her as I beeline for the bread.

  “You’ll be in trouble if you eat all the pita and Fiona doesn’t get any,” Shannon warns.

  As if on cue, Fiona comes into the office with Dominic behind her. I kiss her on the cheek and try to take packages from her full arms. She swats my hand. “Those are for Christmas.”

  Now I’m curious, but it’s not the time to tease her. “How did it go?” I know she made a quick stop at the hospital between The Dungeon and this meeting.

  “Marci should be going home tomorrow. She’s going to be fine.”

  “That’s good news.” I point to the seat next to me. It’s only been a few hours, but I’ve missed her.

  Shannon produces another container of pita bread and hands it to Fiona. She shrugs when I look at her. “She’s my boss, and she likes all the sides, so I ordered her her own pita bread.”

  “I’ll remember this,” I tease.

  She shrugs. “When you sign my paycheck, I’ll take that as a serious threat.”

  Damien is already scarfing from his full plate. “Let’s eat first, and then we can figure out where we are,” he suggests.

  We make idle chit chat as we fill our plates and begin to enjoy the food.

  “I forgot to eat today,” Damien confesses a few minutes later as he finishes his second very full plate. “And I love Mediterranean food.”

  After we’ve all overeaten, we settle in our seats for the update. I can see right away that Gage and Maureen have added to our timeline.

  “The hair samples show that Jenn stopped taking Zoloft about three weeks ago and started taking the sugar pills,” Christina reports. “The numbers in the bottle match what her prescription says should be there with daily use. We believe someone changed out the pills without her knowledge.”

  I sit back. That’s pretty shitty.

  “Wendy Van Wick, their waitress the night of Jenn’s death, is back from Tahoe and staying at the Mark Hotel. She’s prepared to testify that she witnessed them tripping, but they were lovey-dovey, not at each others’ throats,” Miles says.

  “The lab work shows that the mushrooms were also injected with LSD, making them the biggest trip of all,” Tom adds.

  Damien sits back. “I need all this information.”

  “We have you covered,” Maureen assures him.

  Gage stands and grabs the handle to lower the screen from the ceiling. A picture of a dark van with an electrician’s logo on it appears on it. “We can report that this van was parked near their place on the day we believe the pills were exchanged.” He flips to the next screen. “We were able to see the same van parked in the alley on the America Bank camera behind Ashbury Central, and…” Again, the slide changes. “We also saw it back near the apartment again the night Jen
n died. It does not appear to be from a real company.”

  “How can you be so precise?” Damien asks.

  “We have an expert who pinned down the day her pills were swapped. Hair is pretty accurate. As for the van, we researched the logo and found nothing.” Gage pulls up another picture. “On the night in question, the fake electrical company van is there, and we believe the man that emerges from it is also the person on the roof behind Jenn as she goes over.”

  He pauses a moment and smiles. “Finally, Maureen is the genius who found that same fake electrical company van parked at The John Riley Company.”

  I sit forward, my eyes wide. “Are we sure?”

  Maureen nods. The screen shows a picture of a van—without the logo—parked in a garage next to other vehicles. She zooms in on the van’s license plate. “This plate belongs to a Honda Accord—reported stolen. And those other vans are registered to The John Riley Company.”

  Gage and Maureen tag-team through the rest of the evidence. They’re great when they work together. In the end, Maureen passes Damien a thumb drive with all the documents, and she’s also printed them and placed them in a binder that can be given to the prosecutor if the case is held over for trial.

  Damien practically bursts into applause. “Thank you so much.”

  Fiona looks downright smug.

  “Where are we with Detective Leong?” I ask, moving us to the next topic.

  Fiona looks up and becomes hyper alert.

  “Through our friends in the FBI, we’ve confirmed that he is high up in the Mah-Wing organization,” Gage says. “They have their Organized Crime Unit dissecting his conversations, and they’ve made contact with the police commissioner. We need to keep this quiet for now, though. If anything tips him off, he’ll go underground before they have their evidence prepared.”

  Fiona clears her throat. “I’d like to be there when he’s arrested.”

  Gage smiles. “We’ve made that clear. I also may have told the police commissioner you wanted to wear a pair of spiked heels and kick him in the balls.”

  Fiona puts her hands on her head and laughs. “You know me so well.

  I look at my watch, and realize it’s after nine.

  “Go home to your fiancée and get some sleep,” I tell Damien. “We don’t have to be in court tomorrow until ten, and Fiona, Maureen, Gage, and I will be there to support you if you have any questions.”

  Fiona disappears into her office—probably to check her voice mail and make sure there’s nothing urgent in her email.

  Forty-five minutes later she walks out. “We have a meeting on the day after Christmas in Paris with the generals.” Her voice trembles. “That’s sooner than I thought. I don’t know what that means.”

  I nod. “I’m going with you.”

  “Thank you. I booked us on an afternoon flight on Christmas Day. They’ve set us up with a room at the George V, which is within the Golden Triangle of Paris, just off the Champs-Elysees. We’re meeting for a late lunch in one of the private rooms.”

  “Great,” I tell her. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine.”

  Fiona nods, but I can tell she doesn’t quite believe me. “One thing at a time, I guess. Let’s go home and get some rest. Tomorrow is a big day.”

  ***

  As we creep toward morning, lying in bed, I’m not sure either of us has slept. There’s been a lot of tossing and turning. We have Hunter’s case today, and now there’s a trip to Paris on our minds—a meeting to determine our future.

  I can feel Fiona building walls around herself. And I’m worried the generals are going to want her to choose between the job and her life. I won’t let that happen.

  I reach for her, but she pulls away. I don’t want to push. “I’ll be here for you, no matter what,” I whisper.

  When the alarm sounds at five, I get up and go through my workout routine, leaving Fiona in bed. When I return, she’s up and reading on her Kindle. I kiss her forehead, and she reaches for my hand. “I didn’t say this before, but I appreciate everything you do for me.”

  I sit down next to her and bring her into an embrace. “Fiona, I’d do anything for you. Know that. If they’re determined to keep you active and move you elsewhere, I’ll give Jim notice and follow. I promise.”

  She pulls away and searches my eyes. “You would?”

  “In a heartbeat. Fiona, I’m in love with you, which means I’ll move or do whatever you need for support.”

  “We’re not working tomorrow,” she murmurs after a moment. “I want to sleep in and spend all day being naked with you.”

  I kiss her soft lips. “That sounds perfect.”

  A little while later, I drop Fiona at her office and head over to mine.

  When I walk into Jim’s office, he looks up. “You look exhausted.”

  “I didn’t sleep last night.”

  He raises his eyebrow.

  “The generals have asked Fiona and me to be in Paris for a meeting the day after Christmas.”

  “That’s a good sign that they included you.”

  “Let’s hope. I plan to propose to Fi tomorrow night. We’ve only dated a short time, so she can take as long as she needs to be engaged, but I want her to know I’m fully committed.”

  A giant grin breaks across Jim’s face. “She’d be crazy to turn you down.”

  “Well, I’m moving fast, and I find she doesn’t always do well with fast.”

  “You two are good for each other. When I dealt with the generals a few years ago, they started out insistent that Fiona needed to step in. I stood my ground, and eventually they concluded that she could do it upon her father’s death. I didn’t plant that seed. But her father may have as he was working it from his side.”

  “Did you ever connect with David or Sinead?”

  “I worked with David, because he’s Liam’s lawyer.”

  I cock my head. “David’s a lawyer?”

  “In Ireland, yes. He’s the major conduit of information back and forth between the generals and the IRA. David has also kept watch over Fiona via Maureen O’Connor.”

  “Does Maureen work for Fiona’s interests or the IRA’s?”

  “I wondered that for a long time, but I think she works toward Fiona’s interests. But she’s how David knows what’s going on with Fiona.”

  “Does Fiona know?”

  “She does,” Jim says. “Maureen’s father is a lieutenant to Liam, so the whole family is involved.”

  “I just hope the IRA realizes Fiona is too well known to take her father’s role.”

  “Agreed,” Jim says. “But David and Sinead are not crazy when they say Fiona knows too much and can become a target.”

  I think about that a moment. “Do you think the FBI knows what she knows? She’s worked hard to distance herself.”

  “I’m not sure, but that might be a perfect way to convince the IRA she needs to keep her distance. The FBI knows too much.”

  I look at my watch. “We have Hunter Anderson’s pretrial this morning, and we think we can talk Judge Abel into dismissing with prejudice.”

  “That’d be big.”

  “Particularly if we can get it done and over with before the holidays.”

  Jim stands and pats me on the back. “If you end up needing me, you know what you need to do.”

  “I’ll only contact you if she appears to be in danger or the generals insist on moving her somewhere. Thanks.”

  I make a brief stop in my own office, and then it’s time to head over to the court building. Dominic is driving us, and I text Fiona to let her know we’re on our way.

  When we arrive, Dominic goes in to walk her and Hunter down, and she sits between us in the back seat.

  We arrive at the courthouse and make our way into Judge Abel’s court. It isn’t long before Dominic joins us.

  Aubrey Simmons walks in with District Attorney Chelsea Borden. My stomach drops.

  Hunter’s parents enter, and with them are Jennifer’s parent
s. The two women hold hands, obviously anxious.

  The judge calls the case to order and looks at Aubrey. “I see you brought the big guns.”

  “Yes sir, we did.”

  “For the record, please introduce yourselves.”

  “Assistant District Attorney Aubrey Simons.”

  “District Attorney for the City of San Francisco Chelsea Borden.”

  Everyone’s eyes shift to Damien. “Damien Lewis, partner at Moyer and Witten, and this is my client Hunter Anderson.”

  “Ms. Simmons, you may present your case.”

  Aubrey begins her opening argument, but Judge Abel stops her. “We did this last time. Let’s hear your evidence.”

  “Here is the affidavit of Frank Moore, who witnessed Hunter Anderson purchasing a gun at Family Guns and Ammo in Gilroy. He was nervous, which is what drew Mr. Moore’s attention to him.”

  The judge turns to Damien. “Do you have a rebuttal?”

  “We do, your honor. I’d like to call Maureen O’Connor to the stand.”

  Maureen is sworn in.

  “What did you find out about Mr. Moore as a witness?” Damien asks her.

  “He’s the owner of Family Guns and Ammo and has been presented as a witness for the State in over seventy-two cases,” Maureen explains. “Corresponding with each affidavit, we found a wire transfer to his personal checking account for five thousand dollars.”

  “Were you able to trace the wire regarding Mr. Anderson’s case?”

  “Yes, I was. We traced the wire back to an SFPD slush fund.”

  Damien puts a copy of the wire deposit information into evidence.

  Judge Abel is visibly upset. I hope that means we’re one step closer to getting Hunter off.

  “Judge, we expect more expert witness testimony from Ms. O’Connor.”

  “Please remain here in the court room,” Judge Abel says.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Aubrey seems shaken, but she moves on. “As you can see, in this picture a man is standing behind Jenn and pushing her over the railing.”

  This is the same picture we pulled, and it’s still difficult to tell whether the shape is just the shrub on the patio or if there’s a man standing in front of the shrub.