Special Agent Charli

by Mimi Barbour

  “Aha! You wily old fox. That’s how you did it. You’ve been here so many times, you recognized the neighborhood from the images they showed online.” Charli stopped herself and then changed her mind. “Hold it. All you could see in those pictures was the outside angle of the house and the waterfront. How did you figure out which house when there’s so many?”

  “They had the sun setting behind them in the photos and the one you’d rented had a stained glass window on the top bedroom floor. It was easy, Charli, come on.”

  Nodding after hearing his explanation, she grinned at Blake’s confusion and added, “Now you know where I get my brilliant mind from – my gramps.”

  John turned to Blake, a huge smile lighting his proud face. “Ain’t she cute?”

  Charli cut them off. “She’s a United States Special Agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. That’s what she is.” Her harsh tone warned both men who lost their grins.

  “Okay. Just for the record,” Blake asked, “how were you able to get close enough to watch the murder take place and fortunate enough to get away without being another victim? That’s what dazzles me.”

  “Pure bloody luck and a little planning. I figured I’d watch and make sure it was Charli in the house, so I snuck up from the beach and approached from the front. There were bushes around the house to take shelter from being seen.”

  “You must have arrived after the killer had disengaged the security system by hacking into it or the alarms would have sounded.”

  John shrugged. “I guess so. Nothing happened, no lights or alarms, not like this place. Maybe I wasn’t close enough to set them off. Though it’s fortunate I had binoculars. Don’t see so good with this eye anymore.” He pointed at the sightless blue one on the left. “I’d thought to bring them so I could identify Charli before blundering up to some stranger and scaring the pants off her.”

  Blake laughed. “So now we have you at the right house. And you’ve explained what happened. There’s just one more thing, John. Why were you so long coming forward? The murder occurred hours ago.”

  “I know. It’s been eating away at me. There’s no doubt in my mind that the lady died after she took a bullet in the forehead, but I really wanted to get the police there in case of a miracle, you know? Except, after I ran away, I tried to get help from the neighbors, and they weren’t home. They had a pergola in their yard where I decided to catch my breath. Problem is, I kinda dropped to the floor after my marathon across the beach.”

  Charli spoke up. “Grandpa…”

  “I know, kiddo. I wasn’t thinking. I was too busy recuperating. Of course, I fell asleep.”

  Charli added, her glance at Blake a warning not to pursue this line of questioning, “Just like any ninety-year-old would have after what you’d been through. What I want to know is… how did you get back up to your feet?”

  “Very slowly and painfully. That took me the longest. But once I came to, I knew I needed to get to the police station. After what I’d seen, I had to make a report.”

  “Okay. So, can you tell us exactly what it was you saw?”

  “I saw this white guy, scary-looking creep, beat a woman nearly to death before he shot her. That’s what I saw.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  While the shock of John Madison’s words wore off, Blake fell in love. That old man moved him so much, he felt affection for him flow throughout his whole body and nestle inside his chest.

  He welcomed it. To meet a man like John Madison, whether he belonged to Charli or not, had to be one of his greatest privileges.

  He never knew either of his grandfathers and his own father had been unapproachable on his best days and a patsy on his worst, always giving over to Blake’s witchy, red-headed mother. He’d had some good times with him, but none that were unforgettable. Blake knew he’d never forget this day.

  Meeting this guy, seeing how he interacted with his granddaughter, how much he adored her, well it broke down some barriers inside him, ones he’d formed over the belief that, in general, most people only cared about number one. And in his profession, other than a few worthy partners on the force, the general public he mostly dealt with didn’t dissuade him of that concept either.

  Watching Charli crouched next to John while he enjoyed Blake’s own chair and petted the head of the woman Blake loved like he’d never loved another soul, John Madison made his mark. And Blake Sebastian now had two people he needed to protect.

  Hold it… make that four.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Angie pulled Kayla away from the doorway they’d been lurking behind. Using hand signals, she pointed to their bedroom and headed in that direction, knowing Kayla would follow.

  Once they’d entered the beautiful, soft pearl-gray room with lime accessories where moonlight flowed in from the bay window overlooking the garden, Angie closed the door.

  She dragged Kayla over to the bed where they both sat cross-legged on the quilted white cover. Grabbing a brush left on the nightstand, Angie crawled behind Kayla and began pulling the bristles through her long hair, something she knew Kayla loved.

  “Tell me.” After hearing what Charli and Blake had been talking about, Angie wanted answers.

  “Tell you what?”

  “Everything.”

  “I can’t. You heard the same as I did. Charli and I are in witness protection. It’s a secret.”

  “Kayla. I’m here with you now, and I’m not going away. Don’t you figure I have a right to know who is stalking you guys? Like, I’m in danger too, right? So, spill.”

  “It doesn’t work that way, Angie. The less you know, the better. Charli will send you away. I know she will. There’re no good choices here. Back in Seattle, they made it very clear that I couldn’t tell anyone about this. No one. That means you. Not if I want to keep you safe.”

  “Shit, Kayla.” Angie cussed under her breath. “Hold on. That’s not even your real name.”

  “It’s going to be after this is all over. I want to make it legal. I like it, don’t you? It has a nice sound… Kay-la.”

  Gently, Angie smacked her with the brush. “Quit changing the subject.” Then she continued to stroke Kayla’s hair rhythmically. “You saw some guy killing someone, you and Charli, and now the murderer is coming after you. Is that about right?”

  “No. Charli didn’t see it, just me. And quit probing.”

  “Right. I remember now. Charli’s a Fed. She’s your protector, your handler, babysitter, or whatever they call people who take care of the underage kids in these kinds of situations.”

  “Charli’s my sister.”

  “No, Kayla, she’s not.” Angie threw down the brush and yanked Kayla around to look her in the face. “She’s just a cop doing her job.”

  “No. You don’t understand.”

  “Yeah. I fucking do. I thought she cared about me when she beat up the sick slimy bastard. Crazy me, I thought I mattered to her.”

  “It did. You do. How can you question that?”

  “Because now I know she’s a cop. She was just doing what she gets paid for.”

  Anger exploded over Kayla’s face, and her eyes stared daggers. She pushed Angie, almost off the bed. If the other girl hadn’t grabbed onto the headboard, she’d have tumbled over.

  “You listen to me, Ang. Charli broke protocol to help you. She left me alone in the car, knowing it was against all the rules, just so she could deal with your stinking life. She didn’t have to. She chose to.”

  A small chunk of the iceberg lodged in Angie’s gut diminished, but only a little. “Fuck!” She hit out at the bed, her fist punching once and then again. “I’m all fucked up.”

  “Yeah, well you’re not the only one who’s fucked up, Angie. Things are not always about you.” Kayla slid her fingers through her hair in the front and tossed it back over her shoulders, a habit she had whenever she felt under pressure. “It’s not Charli’s fault that I ran to her place the night I saw the murder. I involved her in th
is mess. Then I insisted if they wanted my testimony in court, only Charli could take me into custody. It was all me, not her. Everyone’s in danger because of me. I should just go out there, let that son of a bitch shoot me and save someone else from getting killed.” Crying harder, unable to stop, Kayla hid her face, the tears drenching her hands and running over, dripping onto her legs.

  Scared shitless now, seeing the avalanche she’d begun with her demands, Angie scrambled up next to Kayla and wrapped her arm around her shoulder. She started crying too. Something she hadn’t done for many, many years.

  Once she’d given up hope of ever escaping her miserable existence, the tears had stopped, replaced by so much anger that she’d often wondered how her body still performed when everything inside felt blocked, rock-hard… completely and utterly frozen.

  “I’m sorry, Kayla. I’m a shit. Just ignore me.”

  “You don’t understand. I met Melissa, the agent who died. She looked after me when Charli had some business, and she was really nice… and now she’s dead.”

  “God, I’m sorry, Kayla. Come on, stop crying, okay? If you get me started, I’ll never be able to stop.” Angie swiped her eyes with her arm and patted Kayla, unsure of how to hold her or comfort her. That behavior wasn’t precisely in her bag of tricks. “You’re special. Of course, Charli wants to protect you. And Blake. Even me. That badass bag of shit has to come through me to get near you, you know what I mean? And that ain’t never gonna happen.”

  Kayla sniffed and let her head drop onto Angie’s chest. “You know what’s so funny? I saw him kill that poor woman with a gun. After I saw the damage it did, I thought I hated them. But, when Charli left me in the car, I took her weapon out of the glove compartment, and I felt safe. I had no freakin’ idea what to do with it, other than to point and shoot, but I finally felt in control.”

  “So, we get us one. I know a kid in school.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, sure. You know the gang I hang with. They aren’t exactly on the principal’s honor list.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “Most of them scare me silly, too. And they were my only friends. Sick, ain’t it?”

  Then Kayla asked, “Why do you hang with those losers?”

  “Hey, those losers don’t hassle me. They just accept who I am. If I went up to Jorge and asked him to get me a gun, all he’d care about is the money. There’d be no questions, no judgment. Lately, I’ve been thinking of buying one and shooting Hank, the sick, slimy bastard. Just didn’t have the cash.”

  Kayla’s face dropped. “Right, I bet their expensive.”

  “Oh, yeah. You want one the cops don’t know about. They cost a shitload.”

  “Where would we ever be able to find enough money?”

  “I don’t know. But we’ll work on it. With the two of us, we should be able to come up with something, right. Even if we have to steal it.”

  “I’ve never stolen anything in my life, too afraid of the consequences.”

  “I have. It’s easy. I’ll teach you.”

  Just then they heard voices in the hallway, and they snuck to open the door just enough to hear what Charli was saying.

  “It’s okay, Gramps. Blake sleeps on the sofa in the living room, not in his office. You heard him.”

  “I heard him say he’d ended up sleeping on it many times. I took it to mean he’d passed out on it. Which leads me to believe this is his house. Which bodes the question – What the hell are you doing living here, in his house? And… I might add, why are the girls—”

  “Gramps! Enough. All your questions will be answered after we get some sleep. Right now, it’s almost morning and you need to rest. Come on, now. Be good and—”

  “Hey, kiddo, don’t treat me like an old invalid. I can still throw you over my knee… Well, maybe not throw, but I can urge you in that position and paddle your behind good.”

  Charli laughed and both the eavesdropping girls had to cover their mouths to stop the giggles. They closed the door so as not to get caught.

  Angie asked, “Did you see his wink?”

  “No, when.”

  “Just now. The old guy knew we were there. I saw him wink at me… us. He’s sure different than most old people I ever knew.”

  “Do you know a lot, because other than strangers, I sure don’t.”

  “You’re right. I never actually knew anyone that old.”

  “Me either, but I kinda like him.”

  “Funny thing, I do too. Maybe he can help us.”

  “You think he’d loan us the money?”

  “Not if we told him what we wanted it for.”

  “So we lie. I’m really good at it. Leave it to me.”

  Angie saw Kayla’s questioning look and smiled with as much innocence as she could muster. Kayla’s response wiped the smile off.

  “Don’t try it on Charli. Trust me, she’ll know.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Charli knew Blake would be waiting to discuss Poppa John’s testimony with her. And as long as he stayed focused to that topic, she’d go along. But first, she needed to take a moment to think, rebuild her defenses – calm down.

  With everything she’d gone through over the last twenty-four hours, her resistance was weak. No way did she have the strength to handle any pressure to carry on where they’d left off earlier in the evening.

  She still hadn’t gotten over the shock of how she’d ignited in his arms. God knows, it had been a long time for her since she’d allowed any man to get that close. And even then, it had been under her rules, her choice of when and where and with whom.

  And never, not once, had she allowed any guy to get past her barriers. After the nightmare she’d suffered as a child, the only man who rated on her I-give-a-shit monitor was her Popsicle. And she was fine with that, always had been.

  Now, at a time when she was so messed up, and her life was in shambles, her stupid heart had to decide to crush out on a womanizing asshole who thought females were put on earth for his pleasure. He didn’t give them a chance to matter. He dumped them first, according to Candy and her warning.

  Shit! Why can’t I catch a break? Protecting Kayla was one thing. She’d accepted that responsibility. Taking on Angie, well… she had no idea why that kid had gotten to her, but she had. So much so that she hadn’t been able to ignore her heartbreaking story, couldn’t shrug it off with the old adage – not my problem. Hell, she could have gone to Blake and gotten him to handle it through the proper channels.

  But that would have only made things worse for Angie. She needed to see the sick, slimy bastard getting some of his own shit back, needed to know she’d been vindicated, had gotten revenge. Once she saw the bottom-feeder, who’d made her feel lower than scum, forced to his lowest common denominator, maybe she’d be able to move on. Swallow the hate – drop the guilt every victim in her position suffers – and learn to finally love and respect herself for the first time in her life.

  The one aspect Charli hadn’t taken into consideration, and should have known better, was that Angie’s dependence would now be on her. Hadn’t she ordered it so? –The kid’s coming home with me, moving in.

  Involvement in the Silverado case provided enough excitement; why in the hell would she take on more, and in her condition? Where had those words come from? Why hadn’t she thought it out before going all rogue… Superwoman?

  She’d broken Angie loose, sure. But now she owed her.

  Dummy!

  A quick scan and she knew she’d do the same thing again.

  Quit procrastinating and get to the point of why you’re hiding in this bathroom.

  Because, she didn’t want a replay of the hot mess she’d gotten into with Blake earlier. The time had come to shut down that freakin’ gap and crawl back behind the wall to safety.

  She stared in the mirror and saw her wild curls tumbling all over her head. The blonde color threw her. Like her gramps, she missed the red, and wished she hadn’t felt
the need to disguise herself before leaving Seattle. Too late… she grabbed the small combs she used to keep control and swept the sides up, not caring that small swirls escaped and clung to her cheeks.

  Next, she added more makeup, eyeshadow that gave her brown eyes, still filled with a soft, gentle light only her grandfather merited, a hardening effect. Supposedly the windows to her heart, she needed them to appear professional, uncaring… unavailable.

  Adding a thick coat of red lipstick, that she hoped implied a barrier, she sauntered out to the kitchen and found him missing. Her glance took in the sofa and saw that he’d left the coverings for a bed, but he was nowhere to be found.

  Then she looked toward the patio and saw the figures of two men conversing. She recognized his Lieutenant, Bill Norton, with Blake in deep discussion.

  Her heart sunk. What in God’s name has happened now?

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Blake came into the house in time to see Charli brewing coffee in his fancy machine, and he nodded when she pointed at the cup. “Yeah, thanks.” He rubbed his face and ended up threading his hands through his hair to link behind his neck. Then he twisted from one shoulder to the other, exercising his muscles. Finally, he moved toward her, full of intentions.

  Charli retreated and her withdrawal left him under no illusions. Any personal headway they’d made earlier was completely gone. Her unmistakable warning threatened. Plus, the intimidating glare she’d thrown his way spoke volumes.

  Back off and don’t touch!

  For now, he’d respect her boundaries, but sooner or later, they needed to talk. His patience had limits. He wanted her – something fierce.

  “Is your Grandpa settled?”

  “I think so. I gave him the pajama bottoms you lent him. He held them up to see their length and muttered, “He’s a big boy, ain’t he?”