The Ex Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 1)

by Victoria Paige

  “Can’t get hold of her. We’ll have to go through other means.” Other means meant going through the police scanner which could take a while. Declan jerked his head at Theo. “Get going.”

  “You can’t order me around.”

  “Mouthing off isn’t gonna help me find your sister, so knock it the fuck off.”

  “What about Emma? I can’t just disappear and not tell her.”

  “You can’t have any contact with her, Theo,” Levi said.

  “No fucking way.”

  “For fuck’s sake!” Declan growled. “If I have to hogtie you and stuff you into the trunk of a car, I will. Your safety is our priority and the nightclub attack is only the beginning. Happy now? Will you just do as you’re fucking told?!”

  His son clenched his fists at his sides. Declan’s cool was fast evaporating—he was about to hit his limit with the kid.

  Levi turned away from their standoff and started packing his gear.

  “I’m not you,” Theo said finally. “I’m not going to turn my back on the girl I love when the going gets tough. That’s something cowards do.”

  His son backed away slowly, holding Declan’s eyes in defiance, and then pivoted on a foot and exited the room.

  At that parting shot, Declan’s anger deflated, his chin dropped, and his eyes stared blankly at the wooden floors. Those words slammed into him harder than any gunshot.

  “He’s never going to forgive me for divorcing Gabby.” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

  Levi’s bare feet appeared in Declan’s line of vision. “The kid didn’t mean that.”

  “I had nothing to offer her back then except heartbreak … and my trust in her was shot.”

  “Your situation and Theo’s are different, but maybe we should look at it from his point of view instead of dismissing how he feels,” Levi said.

  “Are you saying I have a stick up my ass?” Declan gave a brief smile.

  Before Levi could answer, the perimeter alert sounded off. That meant the car approaching couldn’t be IDed by their app from the list of permitted vehicles on premises.

  Declan quickly left Levi and went for his M9 pistol under the sink of the hallway guest bathroom. It was closer than the weapons he had in his bedroom.

  Flattening his body against the wall by the entrance door, he took a peek behind the shades. The newcomers weren’t even pretending to hide themselves.

  He recognized the driver Migs—the man Garrison had undercover with Ortega and the man who Gabby had confronted in the alley outside the clinic. Exiting behind the driver’s side was Garrison helping a disgruntled woman from the vehicle.

  Ariana.

  Rounding from the passenger side was Bristow…the nurse who Declan now suspected was more than a nurse.

  Declan opened the door. “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t touch me!” the woman hissed.

  “Just helping you down, princess,” Garrison drawled.

  “Come on, Ari,” Migs grasped the woman’s arm, but she yanked it away from him too, and hugged herself protectively.

  “Stay away from me too, pendejo!”

  Bristow came up to Declan. “We need to leave.”

  “What the hell?” Levi said, striding up beside Declan. “Is there some kind of party and we don’t know about it?”

  “No time to explain,” Garrison said. “Something is about to go down in Inglewood.”

  “The club attack was in West Hollywood,” Declan said.

  “There are enough first responders at the scene, but that’s just a diversion,” Garrison said. “One of Claudette’s bodyguards is dead.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, we nearly missed it on the police scanner,” Migs said. “Ortega wants us focused on that.”

  “So Ortega really escaped?” Declan demanded.

  Garrison nodded. “And his enterprise is operational. We’re thinking Ortega and the cartel have struck a deal, but this wouldn’t be possible without interference from Andrade.”

  “Claudette’s boyfriend?”

  “Yes. We suspect they wanted some research we had at the CDC. We’ve narrowed down the inside man there,” Garrison cut off, waving his hand in irritation. “I’ll catch you guys up later.” He turned to Declan. “You need to leave immediately with Bristow.”

  The red-haired man had already gotten into the driver’s seat of the Escalade. Declan looked at Levi, but it was Garrison who answered the directive in his eyes. “We’ll take care of Theo. Don’t worry.”

  Declan didn’t say any more and jumped into the SUV beside Bristow.

  Executing an awkward three-point turn, the hefty vehicle screeched out of the driveway.

  “We should be at the scene in fourteen minutes,” Bristow looked at the dashboard GPS.

  “Do you have an idea what Garrison is talking about?”

  “About how Ortega escaped?”

  “Yeah.”

  “One of the virologists at the CDC is working for Antonio Andrade. Guess the promise of money that’s ten times more than government salary is worth betraying a vow to save lives.” Bristow cast him a derisive look. “That’s not including sign-on bonus.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Feds are still investigating the break-out. Ortega was always meant to survive the virus from initial reports. He’d been given the antiviral before he’d infected himself. Not even sure the chemo shit is real.”

  “Somebody really screwed up the intel there.”

  “That can only be done by someone with money. To be able to feed false intel into an agency like the CIA?”

  “This Andrade guy?”

  “Suspect number one.”

  “Counterintelligence is not new.”

  “Tell that to Garrison. He’s pissed.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” Declan deadpanned.

  His phone buzzed with an unknown number. Thinking it was Garrison again with a new burner, he answered. “Roarke.”

  It was a voice he didn’t recognize. “I’m sending you a link. Click on it. Don’t click on it, it’s up to you. It’s too late anyway.”

  The line went dead.

  A notification popped up on his screen. Declan’s phone had several levels of security against malware, so he clicked on the URL without hesitation.

  At first, he couldn’t tell anything from the grainy video—just a group of shadows moving along a courtyard until he heard Gabby’s voice and her face became clearer from the camera that appeared to be positioned at the entrance.

  A text banner lowered on his screen and he quickly checked it.

  “Such a waste. She’s a pretty detective, isn’t she?”

  Dread clogged the words in his throat.

  “What is it?” Bristow asked.

  “Gabby,” Declan choked through the paralyzing fear that froze his entire body. He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen, as if he was helplessly watching an accident about to happen, a sense of imminent loss constricting his airway. Then rage exploded. “Step on the gas, Bristow. Don’t fucking stop for anyone.”

  24

  “Listen, people, we want to help our guys in West Hollywood, but we stand a better chance finding answers here,” Gabby said.

  Their investigation of Claudette’s unit was delayed when news of the Hive nightclub attack hit their rovers and phones. First bulletin was all hands-on deck, but Chen told them to wait for further instructions before abandoning their scene. They cooled their heels for twenty minutes and when Gabby tried to raise Chen again and their watch officer, all lines were clogged.

  Text messages weren’t being delivered and calls weren’t connecting. The Hive nightclub attack must have sparked an overload of cell and data service.

  There were four officers remaining at their scene; two accompanied Gabby and Kelso, while the other two continued to try and reach Chen. As they approached Claudette’s townhouse, Kelso signaled the rest to switch off their radios and mute their phones. Gabby held out the handheld-mot
ion radar device used to detect movement through the door. It was another high-tech piece of equipment that was quietly being used by their division, but not advertised because it was a hot topic for civil liberties advocates. With the warrant, their team was less apprehensive about using it and the safety of everyone involved was priority. She nodded at her partner to go ahead.

  Kelso gave three sharp raps on the door.

  Seconds passed. No sounds from within could be heard and no movement on her radar.

  “Ms. Dumont, this is Detective Kelso. We need a word with you, please.”

  After twenty seconds. “Ms. Dumont, we have a warrant to search your townhouse. We will be entering the premises.”

  Kelso signaled to Gabby to open the door. She pocketed the radar and pushed the door open. The safety wasn’t engaged. They gestured at the two cops to be on alert as everyone drew their weapons.

  Gabby entered first. Her partner, being taller, had the flashlight at full glare, ready to blind whomever might have a weapon pointed at them.

  She had her own flashlight supported under her gun hand as they moved from room to room. There was a sink full of dirty dishes, blood on the floor, and overturned tables and chairs strewn around. A sign of a struggle.

  After clearing the first floor, Gabby turned to the stairs and headed up. It had always been their play with her going first and low, because Kelso being bigger would block any shot made by Gabby. She was lucky enough that her partner was man enough to let a woman take the lead if it meant a better tactical plan. Flattening against the wall and slowly ascending the stairs, she made a forward signal with her hand, indicating for Kelso to check the other rooms as she entered the first bedroom. From the jeans and shirts strewn on the floor, she knew it wasn’t Claudette’s room. She aimed her flashlight at the bathroom and saw a trail of blood and a bloodied white tee. Looked like it was Logan’s partner who killed him but didn’t escape unscathed himself. Why leave evidence?

  “Woodward!”

  The urgency of Kelso’s voice had her dashing out of the room and into the next one. Her partner had turned on the lights, but was nowhere in sight. She heard movements in the bathroom and headed straight there. The smell of something rank hit her nose.

  In the bathtub was Claudette, deathly white, her lips bloodless, with vomit dried up on her chin and clumping chunks of her blond hair.

  “Oh my God, Claudette,” Gabby whispered as she crouched down beside Kelso, staring at the woman and taking an inventory of her possible injuries. There were some finger marks on her arm and visible needle bruises.

  She had on a nightie, no panties. There were no bruises on her legs, thank God.

  Kelso checked for a pulse.

  “Except for the marks on her arms, there are no other visible injuries or trauma. They made her sit up so she wouldn’t choke on her vomit,” Kelso muttered.

  “They forcibly drugged her?”

  “Looks like it.” He patted her cheek a couple of times. “Ms. Dumont, can you hear me?”

  A low moan escaped Claudette’s lips. It was rare that she saw her ex-stepmother without makeup. Rarer still for her hair to be tangled and filthy as it was now.

  “Don’t touch me,” the other woman whispered.

  “We’re here to help you. Remember me? Gabby’s partner?”

  “Leave me alone.”

  Gabby beat back the stab of sympathy. It was there, but she had to remember that Claudette had brought this on herself and had to treat her like a job. And as much as she hated it, Claudette was innocent until proven guilty.

  “Detective Woodward.”

  Rising from her spot beside Kelso, she turned to see one of the officers who accompanied them.

  “House is empty except for our vic.”

  “Not sure she’s the vic. Have our boys made contact?”

  “No.”

  “Have you called the EMTs?” Kelso started running a face towel under the sink to clean Claudette without disturbing much of the evidence until the CSI team got here which could be the next morning or the next day.

  Gabby let out a frustrated huff. “Dammit, Hastings—”

  “I tried,” the officer cut her off. “Radios are jammed. That’s why I sent my partner hustling back to command post.”

  Frowning, she glanced back at Kelso who was quietly trying to calm the disoriented Claudette. She was weakly fighting him off—or her version of it.

  “I’m going to try and raise someone.” Anyone. This communication darkness was starting to nag her. Pulling out her rover, she walked out the bathroom and to the window. “Command post, this is Woodward.”

  Static. She turned the knob and tried another channel. “That’s weird.” She fished out her phone and checked that too. “No signal.”

  “Looks like there’s a jammer,” Hastings said.

  The cop was right, but why?

  “Get out of here,” she growled at Hastings.

  “Why?”

  “Get out! That’s an order!”

  Not waiting to see whether the cop complied or not, she ran back to Kelso who was in the process of hauling Claudette out of the tub.

  “Up you go, Ms. Dumont”

  “Kelso, wait!” She jerked him away from Claudette and got in between them. Her partner landed on his ass behind her while her stepmother fell back into the tub.

  “What the hell, Gab?” Kelso glared at her.

  “It’s a trap. They’ve jam—” Her breathing constricted, and her vision tunneled, meeting Kelso’s horrified eyes and then she was falling…

  “Gabby!”

  The three worst moments in Declan’s life revolved around Gabby. The third one was when he found her in bed with Nick. The second? When he found out she was in the hospital because she was mugged without knowing the extent of her injuries.

  Watching Gabby fall to the floor unconscious via live video was the most terrifying moment of his existence. Even being surrounded by Yemeni rebels with the barrels of seven AK-47s pointed at him didn’t measure up to the excruciating dread of watching the woman who was his everything, walk into a trap, and possibly her doom.

  As he and Bristow raced through the courtyard of Eden Park Townhomes, following the lead of the officer who’d been with Gabby, he found himself praying.

  That he wasn’t too late.

  That he’d get the chance to tell Gabby he loved her.

  That fate wasn’t so cruel this second time around.

  The door was wide open, and the lights were blazing by the time they arrived. Bristow made them put on respirator masks. If Declan never saw one of these for the rest of his life again, it would be too soon.

  The first floor was empty.

  “Gabby!” He yelled and charged straight for the stairs. Kelso was at the top of the staircase, but he was on his ass, slouched against a wall and having a hard time breathing. Gabby was on her back unmoving.

  “I tried,” Kelso wheezed, getting a hand up from Bristow. “It got me too. Hastings, help him.” He told the other cop.

  Declan couldn’t breathe as he dropped to a knee, gathered Gabby into his arms and sprang up to run down the steps and out into the open.

  “Lay her down on the ground,” Bristow ordered. “Help her breathe.” The nurse led Kelso to sit on a nearby bench.

  Ripping off his respirator, Declan lowered his mouth and breathed through Gabby’s own.

  “Do it a couple of times, Roarke.”

  The nurse drew out a packet from his saddle bag and ripped it open, expertly fixing the Narcan tube to the inhaler. “We’ll do one dose and see how she reacts. She might need two depending on how much she inhaled.” He held Gabby’s fingers tightly as Bristow shot the anti-overdose drug into her nose. It was only then that he noticed the officer laying down another cop on the grass.

  “You doing okay there, Kelso?” Bristow called out as he used his teeth to tear another packet of the drug.

  “Yeah, help Hastings. I’ll keep.”

  “I think Ms.
Dumont is dead,” the officer said.

  “Claudette?” Declan mumbled, suddenly remembering that he’d seen her in the video too.

  Kelso shook his head. “She was in a bad way. She wouldn’t have survived that fentanyl aerosol.”

  “You sure that’s what it was?” Bristow asked.

  “Positive.”

  Claudette was dead. Decency told him to go in and get her, but Declan couldn’t bear to leave Gabby’s side. No one was making him budge until he was sure she was okay.

  It might have been a minute, it might have been two before the officer returned with Claudette’s body. Bristow gave Kelso a dose of the Narcan as well, and then he worked on trying to revive the other woman.

  And yet Gabby had not opened her eyes.

  “Why isn’t she waking up?” Declan demanded.

  Bristow glared over his shoulder. At the moment he and the other cop were giving Claudette CPR. “She’s breathing, Roarke, and her heartbeat is strong. Let’s worry about the waking up later. I’ve got bigger problems here.”

  Angst. He didn’t do well with angst, so he directed it to the unconscious woman who was the cause of it. “Angel, you better wake up,” he whispered harshly.

  Nothing.

  He brought both her hands to his mouth and kissed the back of her fingers. “You and I are gonna have words when you wake up. You need to be more careful. I’m this close to locking you in the house.”

  Not a single twitch. Then he watched her chest stop rising and falling.

  He leaned in to check her breathing. Nothing.

  Heart pounding, he put a finger under her nose. “Bristow!” he bellowed. “She’s not breathing!”

  The nurse quickly returned to their side, shoved Declan out of the way and checked. “Fuck!” he muttered. “She needs another dose.”

  A swarm of EMTs with gurneys arrived. “Take that blonde.” Bristow instructed them. “I’ve given her one dose of Narcan. She may need another one. I need to stabilize Detective Woodward before you take her away.” He zeroed in on Kelso. “You. Ride in the ambulance. You need to be monitored.” And then turning back to the oncoming EMTs he barked, “Officer Hastings has had one dose of Narcan.”

  Blowing out a breath, Bristow returned his attention to Gabby and blew through her mouth as another EMT prepared another syringe. “Come on Detective Hottie, don’t you quit on me.”