Amy greeted them all, and she made some introductions of her own. “You’ve met my sister, Darcy. These are my parents, Paul and Fran Markevich. The ‘Paul’ part should be easy to remember.”
Frankie snorted, but she didn’t look at Amy. Her attention was focused on the outside.
“Oh, and this is Frankie. You met Jesse at the door. They’re my bodyguards until Jordan gets back.”
Darcy sat cross-legged on the floor next to the blanket where Colin was practicing sitting upright. She grinned at the group and winked at Jesse. “You should all stay for dinner. We can have pizza delivered and watch Jesse search the delivery boy.”
__________
Blood spatter coated the wall behind the receptionist, and the exam room where the doctor’s body was found was even worse. The grisly scene etched itself in Jordan’s mind. “He’s lost it.”
“Completely.” Dustin had faced some seriously fucked up crime scenes, and Jordan had never seen him so shaken before. “I can’t believe the man who trained me as a field agent did this. That sick fuck needs to be stopped.”
Jordan pushed the emotional horror out of his mind to deal with the facts. “He shot the receptionist in the face. That signifies rage. Most shooters aim for the chest or gut.”
“He shot the doctor in the chest,” Malcolm said. “And arranged her body on the exam table, arms crossed over the hole in her chest. Where did the rage go?”
“She fixed him up,” Dustin answered. “Lawrence likes people who show they care about him. Doctor Shamila Mehra must have impressed him.”
Gesturing to one of the local officers who was guarding the perimeter, Jordan said, “According to local PD, she was an effective doctor with a great bedside manner. No matter what the complaint, she was sympathetic. It’s likely she tried to make Lawrence as comfortable as possible, and this is how he showed his appreciation.”
Brandy breezed down the hallway in their direction. “I just got off the phone with the West Bloomfield police. They found the body of Gary Nelson buried in Miguel Lawrence’s backyard. I’m waiting on the blood work, but the description of the wound in Nelson’s stomach matches Agent Monaghan’s description of the man behind the reception hall last week. The coroner estimated the time of death as early the next morning. I’ve sent our crime scene people to check it out. In addition to the stomach wound, Nelson was shot in the back of the head. I had them send pictures to Agent Adair, who will use facial recognition software to confirm that he’s the man scoping out the places that were robbed by The Eye.”
Jordan drummed his fingers on his thigh as he tried to fit together all the pieces of the profile. “Gartrell and Nelson are dead. He’s escalating, and he’s trying to clean up the mess his subordinates have made.”
Brandy agreed. “I’ve ordered the detail around Judge Cantrell to be doubled. He has refused to stay in protective custody, so he’s at home now.”
“Amy,” Jordan said. “Amy and I are still loose ends. He’s failed to take care of us twice. He’s going to go after her next.”
“I disagree.” Malcolm frowned. “He’s badly wounded. He’s going to need someplace to lay up and recover.”
Dustin shook his head. “He knows how we work, and he isn’t going to waste time. The faster he kills Cantrell, Amy, and you, the faster he takes care of business.”
This didn’t make sense. “We have too much evidence against him,” Jordan said. “He’s never going to get back to where he was—in charge of both the Detroit FBI and a crime syndicate. We’ve got this motherfucker.”
“Not yet.” The determined light in Brandy’s eyes energized them all. “But we will. Let’s wrap this up and head to where we think Lawrence will be. He’s going after either Cantrell or Markevich next. Legato, I’m putting you and Rossetti on Cantrell. Brandt and Monaghan, you’re on Markevich.”
“All due respect, Chief, but Amy is at my house with my wife and son.” Malcolm’s jaw set obstinately, and his eyes glittered with a hard light. “I’ll join Monaghan. Put Brandt with Rossetti.”
Hand on hips, Brandy didn’t back down. “You’ll do as I say, Agent Legato, if you want to keep your job. You’re too hot-headed when you’re emotionally involved, and decisions you’ve made in the past have almost lost cases. Trust that Monaghan and Brandt will keep them safe. Don’t forget, Frankie and Jesse are there as well.”
While Brandy sought to mollify Malcolm’s fears, she didn’t understand that Malcolm wasn’t asking. Jordan would have intervened on his behalf, but Brandy wouldn’t countenance his interference, and if he openly challenge her authority, she’d eviscerate him in so many ways. He grabbed Malcolm by the tie and dragged him out the back way. Dustin followed, making sure Mal didn’t get away.
Once sunlight hit them, Malcolm ripped loose and turned his venom on Jordan. “Listen carefully, you fucking ass-kisser: I’m going to Ann Arbor. I’m going to make sure my family is safe, and I’m going to kill the bastard if he comes near my home.”
“This is why the Chief put you in West Bloomfield.” Dustin growled, and he pushed Malcolm away from Jordan. “We need Lawrence alive. He’s not the head of this organization. While the Chicago branch of The Eye was imploding, Lawrence was heading operations here. If we can get him to give us names, we can bust this nationwide. If you kill him, we can’t do that.”
“Brandy’s not going to change her mind, Mal.” Jordan tried reason, but he was fast losing patience. Amy’s life was on the line. He understood Malcolm’s feelings, but there was nothing he could do. “Right now, you’re barely keeping your temper in check. You’re already up for disciplinary action for telling Darcy about Amy and me being alive. Don’t push it, Mal. You’re close to losing your job. Amy means the world to me. I won’t let anything happen to her or those she loves. Dustin and I will protect Darcy and Colin as if they’re ours. We love them too.”
Malcolm tried to brush past him—likely to grab a car and head home—but Jordan seized him by the jacket and pushed him against the cinderblock wall of the clinic. He waited while Mal combated internal rage.
When the tension solidified at a lower level, Jordan made Malcolm meet his eyes. “If you fly off the handle, one of them could end up hurt. You’ve never forgiven yourself for getting Darcy hurt on the Snyder case. If something happens now, guilt would eat you alive, and it will destroy your marriage.”
“We’ve got your back, buddy,” Dustin added. “You have to trust us.”
Slowly, Jordan released Mal and took a step back to give him space. Malcolm smoothed out his jacket, and then he nailed Jordan and Dustin with twin glares of contempt. “What would you do in my position?”
Both of them looked away guiltily.
“That’s what I thought.” Malcolm headed toward the car. “Lockmeyer can fuck off. The FBI can go screw itself. My family comes first.”
“All right,” Jordan said as they piled into the car. “After this is over, I’m going to say I told you so.”
Brandy joined them, but she spent much of the time on the phone coordinating pieces of the plan. As the sun set, they approached the turnoff that would take them to Ann Arbor or Detroit, and she faced Malcolm. “I know you aren’t pleased about my decision, but it’s for the best. Miguel Lawrence has never liked you. He’s wanted to fire you since the third time he met you, but I’ve successfully argued him down. No matter how you think this will play out, if you’re with your family, then you’re at his mercy. He’d like nothing better than to see you suffer, and hurting your family would do that. If you’re not there, he won’t piece that information together. Don’t do something stupid, Mal. Don’t give him this.”
For the first time, Malcolm appeared conflicted. “Won’t the same thing happen if you send Jordan in there? He knows Jordan and Amy are together.”
“Jordan is bait.” Brandy exhaled hard, and her gaze sidled to him, seeking his approval. It was a bad idea to use unwary bait.
“I knew that.” Jordan sought to reassure her. “It’s
a good plan. But Brandy, if I’m bait, and I’m in Malcolm’s house, then Lawrence will know something is up when he gets there and Malcolm isn’t there.”
“That’s a great point,” Dustin said. “Plus, I think he’ll go for Amy and Jordan next. He’s pissed because they got away. That’s where his rage is currently pointed. He’ll return to the idea of killing Caldwell afterward.”
Brandy thought about that for a minute. “He’s riding high on having completed two easy kills. He needs this to validate his position. Okay, I’ll agree. But Malcolm, keep tight reins on your temper. If you ruin this, I will fire you.”
Jordan turned toward Ann Arbor. “If you’ve doubled the guard on Caldwell, perhaps you should have Brandt and Rossetti working on the outside here?”
“Agent Rossetti is running the Caldwell operation. I can’t pull him. He’s using Hardy and Kinsley. I can give you Forsythe.” Brandy made the call. “We’ll meet her in the parking lot of that supermarket around the corner from your place in fifteen minutes.”
Jordan hadn’t called, and Amy tried not to let the demons of worry take over. She shifted in bed, seeking a more comforting position.
“Can’t sleep?” Darcy’s voice proved that she hadn’t been sleeping either.
With their parents occupying the guest room and Jordan’s parents camped out in the family room downstairs, Darcy’s bed was the only space left to sleep. When they were little, Darcy used to crawl in bed with Amy all the time. She’d nursed a fear of the dark that left Amy free not to reveal that she’d suffered the same malady.
“I hope Jordan’s brothers and sisters got home safely.” They’d promised to text their parents when they arrived, but Amy had gone to bed before their plane was due to land. Paul and Paulette had opted to stay in Michigan until Jordan returned home. They needed to see with their own eyes that he was safe.
“I’m sure they did.” Darcy groped for her hand and squeezed it. “But that’s not what’s making you toss and turn.”
Amy sighed. “Does it get easier?”
“Sleeping soundly while the man you love is out trying to stop dangerous criminals?”
“Yeah.”
“No. I think you just learn to sleep through the anxiety, especially when you know you can’t do anything and that you’ve got a baby who will be up at the crack of dawn.” Darcy laughed, but Amy heard the helplessness. “I thought I was falling in love with a tech geek, and he turns out to be a Federal agent.”
Amy knew what she was getting from the start. “I fell in love with a Federal agent. I thought I knew what I was getting into.”
“That was before someone tried to kill you. Twice. Even if Jordan wasn’t a factor, what you’ve been through would give me nightmares.”
She thought about the nightmares, and the way Jordan held her until she felt better. “It does. Jordan helps. Even before, when we were just friends, he broke into my house just so he could be there in case I needed him.”
Darcy laughed. “That’s such a Dom thing to do. He’ll take good care of you. I have to admit, I didn’t know much about the Daddy Dom/little dynamic until Malcolm explained it to me. I used to think it was kind of warped, but so many of my assumptions turned out to be wrong. I can see where you’d be happy in that kind of relationship.”
“I am. I’m just worried that something bad will happen to him.”
“Focus on the positives. When I can’t sleep because Malcolm is gone, I try to think of all the ways he calms my nerves and relaxes me.”
Her sister’s voice had taken on a dreamlike quality, and Amy snorted. “You channel the memory of being spanked?”
“Or whipped. Or tied up. Or held in his arms during aftercare. Or of the look of love and pride on his face when he sees Colin. There’s a lot, and he’s usually here by the time I wake up.” A wistful sigh escaped Darcy. “So, what’s Jordan’s kink? I mean, besides being called Daddy instead of Master.”
Amy thought about that for a few seconds. “Well, he likes boobs a hell of a lot. He’s very tactile about it, always brushing against my chest or outright parking his hand on one of my girls. He likes when I don’t wear a bra. He’s into bondage, both functional and shibari.” Though she’d kept her voice low out of habit, she dropped her volume even more. “He likes to tie me up and fuck my breasts. It’s kind of hot to watch.”
A foghorn of laughter burst from Darcy, but she had the sense to clap her hand over her mouth. When the flow of laughter slowed to a trickle, she said, “I never would have predicted those words would come out of your mouth. Goddamn. This is so fantastic. We can finally talk about all these wonderfully kinky things together. Malcolm is all about the bondage.”
Amy had frequently seen Darcy wearing an intricate design of ropes on her body.
“He even made a rope bra when I complained that I was retaining water and my boobs hurt. Surprisingly, it helped make the soreness go away.”
“Jordan gives me daily tasks and chores to do. I didn’t do them today, but I think he didn’t expect me to. With my ankle like this, I’m not sure I can do many of the stretches he’s assigned.”
“I’ll help you tomorrow.” Darcy yawned midway through her offer. “I think I know what a lot of them are. Mal has me stretching regularly so that he can tie me up in different ways.”
“Go to sleep,” Amy said. “I’m exhausted too.”
The house was dark when they pulled into the driveway. Jordan visually swept the area. Satisfied that nothing was suspicious, he called Frankie. “We’re in the driveway.”
“Did nobody ever teach you to start a conversation with a greeting?”
Frankie had been an excellent operative, and Jordan had learned a lot from her—some of it had even saved his ass. She’d been his superior, and it was difficult to shake the mentality that had been drilled into him. The flippant attitude marked the way she dealt with most people, but with him, she’d been nothing but business. Where she’d flirted with other members of the unit—male and female—she’d never treated Jordan as anything but a subordinate. He was still acclimating to the fact that she was treating him as an equal.
He unbuckled his seatbelt. “We’re coming in.”
“By all means, join the party. I can’t wait.”
He ended the call. “Let’s go.”
The front door opened, and Frankie waved. “What are you doing here so late? It’s the middle of the night.”
“I’m tired,” Malcolm said. “And looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.”
“That might be a little difficult.” Frankie closed the door and locked up. “Who’s doing surveillance down the street?”
“Brandt and Avery Forsythe. How did you spot them?” Malcolm sounded impressed. They were in the driveway of an empty home with a For Sale sign in the yard. The landscaping was kept up by a service, and the older gentleman living there had left his furniture behind when he’d moved out. It didn’t look abandoned.
“Because I’m amazing.” She smiled at the pair. “Status report: Everybody is asleep. The Monaghans are in the family room, and the Markevichs are in the guest bedroom. Colin is in his crib, which we moved to the master bedroom. Darcy and Amy are asleep in the master bedroom.”
Malcolm blinked, probably shocked that Darcy had anybody but him in her bed. “Amy’s sleeping in my room?”
Jordan wasn’t surprised. She needed as much comfort as she could get, and her sister was one of her best friends. “Let’s leave them be. We can grab some blankets and sack out on the floor of Colin’s room.”
“I don’t want to sleep with you.” Malcolm headed up the stairs. “I love you like a brother, but you’re no substitute for my wife.”
That was true, but Amy had to be exhausted. She’d been through enough. When they got to the top of the stairs, Jordan meant to talk some sense into Malcolm, but he didn’t have to. Amy was waiting in the hallway. She wore Darcy’s pajamas, and she held the wall for balance. She smiled. “Hey. I thought I heard you two.” She inclin
ed her head toward Darcy’s bedroom door. “She’s asleep, but she won’t be upset if you wake her up.”
“The loveseat in Colin’s room folds into a bed. It’s small, but you can make it work. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet.” Malcolm kissed Amy’s cheek as he brushed past. “Sweet dreams.”
Jordan scooped her up and carried her into the baby’s room. The teal loveseat sank under his weight. He snuggled her against his body, and she curled up in his lap. “I’m so happy to see you, Daddy. I haven’t been able to get to sleep yet.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Sleep now, little one. I’m here.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The security around the Legato house was as tight as a nun’s vagina, which was exactly what Miguel had expected. They thought he’d fixate on Markevich and Monaghan because they’d eluded capture. He wasn’t a psychopathic serial killer devolving into frenzy because his ritual had been disturbed. Miguel didn’t need to kill anyone in order to feel contentment.
But he didn’t mind killing them. He was even finding a grim satisfaction in the successful completion of an act. If people listened to the inspirational memes found all over social media, then they’d be living life to the fullest already. Killing them wasn’t such a tragedy if they’d already seized the day.
The killing he needed to do was purely functional. He had to clean up some messes that were only growing more muddled by the minute. He couldn’t take out Lockmeyer’s entire unit, but he could add Lockmeyer to his list. The email he’d sent from a dummy account that referenced that tragic operation in Venezuela should have been enough to make her abandon the line of investigation he didn’t want her to follow. In the past, any reference to that fatal operation had made her freeze up and fall in line. He hadn’t counted on her getting over it. For not listening and for being a cunt in general, she deserved to die.
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