“If you’re not man enough to grab the bitch, Jack, maybe I should do it myself.”
“Don’t be an ass, Fitz. If you were man enough to do anything like that for yourself, you wouldn’t have had me bribe that tech and then ordered me to kill him in the first place.”
Jack could see the fury practically roiling out of Fitz, a big black cloud of seriously-off-his-fucking-rocker crazy. He waited, more than a little on edge, to see how the man would react. Confronting Fitz in any way usually led to the idiot blindly hitting back.
Finally, the man inhaled deeply and thankfully managed to shove his crazy back into its cage. “This fight isn’t getting us anywhere. I’m just stressed. I thought this was going to be so much easier than it’s turned out to be. I have a spot lined up on one of the major networks’ morning shows. It’s amazing publicity for me. I wanted Mercy Duncan dealt with before I got on that plane tomorrow to fly to L.A.”
That was as close to an apology as Fitz ever gave. Just another member of the human race who equated apology with weakness. Jack had no such problem. “Yeah, I’m sorry I blew my cool. I’m not used to being frustrated, either.” Jack had made his decision. He needed to send Fitz off in a semi-calm frame of mind so he could put his own personal plan into action. “Tell you what. I have a close contact at Houston General, a nurse. She’s a good little actress and will do anything I ask of her.”
“Oh?” Fitz looked interested, and that could only be good.
“Yeah. I’ll get Kelley to sidle up to Dr. Duncan—you know, in the cafeteria, maybe—and see what she can learn. She’s good at being sympathetic and has a bullshit detector you wouldn’t believe. If the doctor knows anything of where her sister is, Kelley will ferret it out. By the time you arrive in L.A., I should have something for you.”
Fitz seemed to consider his suggestion for a moment. His nod came, a slow-moving nod, as if his mind had already left the room. “All right, do that. We’ll meet again when I get back from taping that spot. This is going to be huge for my future. Sales of methodipirate haven’t reached their peak on the West Coast, yet. And we know how many head cases there are in California.” Fitz laughed at his own joke. Only a sense of self-preservation made Jack laugh along with him—and convincingly, too.
Jack stood by his office window, looking four floors down on the street, and waited until Fitz drove off in his way-too-flashy Ferrari. The moment that madman was out of sight, he checked his watch. It was definitely time for him to leave.
There was no Kelley who was a nurse-slash-actress at Houston General. By the time Fitz sat his ass in the makeup chair at whatever studio he was visiting the next day, Jack Malone would have already used his own personal get-out-of-this-mess-free card. And a few hours after that, he’d be on a beach on a tropical island, sipping Bacardi and catching some rays—a permanently name-changed man.
* * * *
They’d stopped on the way back to her house to grab some pizzas. Colleen couldn’t help but notice they walked into roughly the same scene they’d walked out of, except Damion was on the phone and he didn’t look happy.
“I get there are legal issues involved, Rodney. But I need to know where that car is, and I need that information yesterday. It really is a matter of life or death.” He ended the call and swore. That was the moment Colleen realized he’d been so into his conversation he hadn’t noticed she’d returned. He met her gaze, and the pain she read there hurt her.
I was dismissive of what he and Chance might feel for Mercy, based on the time they’ve known each other. How hypocritical of me. She knew, beyond a doubt, if anything happened to either Daniel or Rob, she’d be devastated. She needed to remind herself, sometimes, that not everything in the world belonged to the realm of logic.
Time doesn’t factor in when hearts connect.
“Problem?” Daniel handed the case of soda he carried down on an empty corner of the table. Rob carried the pizza boxes and paper bag containing a Caesar salad into the kitchen. While he hastily set up a buffet, Colleen sat, her attention on Damion.
“Well, we’ve very nearly got an ID on our main ‘person of interest,’” he said. “That, of course, is according to our tech. However, the guy I thought I could trust to lock onto the GPS in Mercy’s car is balking.”
“Isn’t he agency?” Rob asked from the kitchen.
“He is, but I don’t have a warrant.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck it. Just fuck it.” He picked up his cell phone again.
“Hello, Mrs…” Damion exhaled, and Colleen found it amazing that his tension seemed to leave him as a smile appeared. “Of course, Grandma Kate. How are you?” He listened for a time then chuckled. “No, ma’am, I didn’t. I hate to ask…well, yes, you did tell me to call you if I need anything else. I’m trying to locate Mercy’s car. We have reason to believe that where it is, she could also be…yes, I have the information right here.” He picked up a pad of paper and read off all pertinent information—make, model, and VIN number.
“Um…just like that?” He smiled then nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Family is the most important thing. Thank you.” He ended the call and exhaled again. “We should know where her car is within a couple of hours. Mrs. Benedict knows people.”
Daniel looked positively shocked. “Kate Benedict? Over in Lusty?”
“The very same,” Damion said.
“Crap, you are connected,” Rob said.
“I know of a Kate Benedict who is chair of the board of directors of the G&P Wellness Center in Waco.” Colleen shrugged. “I guess that’s a common name.”
“But not a common woman,” Daniel said. “Your friend, Dr. Benedict, worked there before she married her two cowboys? I bet she lives just outside of Lusty, Texas.”
Colleen grinned. “I think she does. I guess it really is a small world.”
“I met the lady a few months ago, in the aftermath of that case involving Ramón Estévez and Clint Parrish—and their submissive, of course.” Chance grinned. “You see her for the first time and you think, ‘what a sweet little old lady.’” He laughed, shaking his head.
Daniel met Colleen’s gaze. “Trust me. Kate Benedict sure as hell isn’t anyone’s little old lady. I’d bet she has more power at her fingertips than most of the politicians in this country combined.”
“I clearly have to meet this woman.” Colleen grinned. She turned her attention to Rob, who approached, loaded paper plate, fork, and napkins in hand. He’d given her a healthy serving of salad and two slices of pizza.
“Eat all your din-din like a good little subbie.” The laughter in his eyes told her he was yanking her chain. She gave him her tongue—sticking it out in total disrespect—and then accepted the plate.
It seemed to her all the men were doing their best to keep the mood light, and she couldn’t fault them for it. She just wished there was more progress. Someone’s cell phone dinged, Chance’s obviously, because he put his cell to his ear and listened.
“All right, great. How long can you hold him?” He listened for a moment then nodded. “I’ll be right there.” He set the phone down and grabbed a single slice of pizza. “A couple of uniforms, friends of mine, picked up your Sparky Jones. I’m going to go and assist Detective Morrissey in having a personal and heartfelt conversation with him.”
“I’ll come with you.” Damion fairly wolfed his slice. “We’ll let you know as soon as we know anything useful.”
“Do we need to do anything with…” Daniel waved his hand, indicating their computers.
“No, every thread we’re tugging on has been farmed out to others. Well, except for getting into Jack Malone’s investment files.”
Rob grinned. “I’ll do that. It’s been awhile since I’ve done some black-hatting of my own.”
Quest and Carter laughed as they headed toward the door. “I’m a cop, you idiot,” Carter said. “I don’t need to hear that.”
“I’ve got witnesses who will deny I said a thing.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard
that a time or two…like always. We’ll get it done.”
Colleen tilted her head and looked at her men. “Sounds like the four of you are closer than I thought you were.”
Daniel shrugged. “We’re all Doms at the same club. As it turns out, that’s where most of us have been socializing since they cracked that case Estévez and Parrish were working on. Until then, Damion was working undercover, after the same bastard, it turned out, that Ramon was pursuing. Carter had been working undercover, too, on a related case. That was a surprise to them both the day they came face to face in a fetish bar called Leathers.”
“Sounds like quite a story.”
“It is,” Rob said. “And everyone—on our side, that is—got out relatively unscathed. A happy ending, no matter how you look at it.”
They all three ate, and the silence felt good. She didn’t feel any need to fill the air with chatter, and neither, apparently, did the men. As they were nearly finished consuming their pizza, salad, and colas, Rob kept looking at his laptop.
Colleen chuckled then nodded toward his computer. “You go ahead and do whatever cyber magic you have to perform. I’m going to tidy up.” She needed to keep herself busy. Everything inside her told her that this hell she was in—not knowing if her sister was alive or dead—would be over soon. So, while she worked, she prayed. She’d really never asked for anything for herself, ever. Now, she wanted only two things—her sister alive and her Doms in her life, permanently.
Chapter Sixteen
“You seem like a pretty smart guy, Sparky,” Chance said. “So how the hell did you end up in this mess?”
Sitting beside Chance, and across the table from their current “person of interest,” Detective Morrissey sent his buddy a look that didn’t need any interpretation. It said, plainly, she thought Chance was a fucking moron.
Stationed outside the interview room, a witness thanks to the two-way mirror, Damion prepared to enjoy watching his lover at work. He could be anything the situation called for but always dead serious about learning what he needed to know.
“Thank you, Detective Carter,” Sparky said. “I like to think I’m a bit smarter than the average Joe.”
Carter snickered. “Pretty funny, Sparky, considering your real first name is Joe.”
“There you go.” Sparky Jones looked to be quite relaxed and enjoying himself.
Morrissey turned her attention to the P.O.I. “What the hell kind of name is Sparky for a black-hat hacker, anyway? That used to be what captains called their radio operators on ocean ships in the olden days.”
“I don’t know about that, ma’am.” Sparky Jones might be a hacker, and he might even be involved in the disappearance of his woman, though Damion didn’t think so. Sparky Jones was definitely a nerd, no question. Despite those formidable red marks against him, there wasn’t any sign of violent tendencies in his limited rap sheet. Damion did give the man credit for being polite.
“I’ve lived in Texas all my life. Never even saw the ocean till I moved to Houston.” Sparky looked to be considering the situation. “I think that particular use of my nickname might have been before I was born, ma’am.”
Damion didn’t know how the detective was going to maintain her bad-cop posture in the face of Sparky Jones’ aw-shucks persona.
Clearly, neither did she. “You still haven’t seen the ocean. Houston sits on the Gulf of Mexico, not the Atlantic.”
“Huh. Well, damn—pardon me, ma’am. You learn something new every day.”
“All right, this isn’t getting us anywhere.” Chance huffed out a breath. “Let me tell you where the bear shit in the buckwheat, Sparky. I’ve got a top-notch hacker who is, as we speak, having a good look at your computer activity over the last few days. You’ve been tied in to a few systems, attempting through electronic means to surveil Mercy Duncan, a reporter for No Slant News.”
“Attempting is right.” Jones sat forward, his hands folded, all signs of the shtick he’d brought out earlier gone. “I was asked by an acquaintance to help find a young woman who is, apparently, missing. I didn’t have anything else happening, so I agreed to help.” He sat back. “My work was a bust. The woman hasn’t used her bank, and she hasn’t used her credit cards, her cell phone, or any of her social media. I couldn’t even GPS her phone because it’s off.” He sat back, his hands open as if in supplication. “I don’t know what you can charge me with. I didn’t steal anything or threaten anyone. I was just trying to help a dude out.” He looked at Carter and then Morrissey. His expression changed, as if he’d made a decision. “And now, the dude who asked me to help him locate Ms. Duncan is missing, too.”
“Who’s missing, Joe?” Joanna Morrissey asked. The woman had moved, subtly, to the edge of her chair.
Joe sighed. Damion read him as a man who might be guilty of hacking into computer systems, and he wouldn’t be surprised to learn he made a fair living, hiring himself out to the criminal element doing so. Hell, he was the criminal element, come to that. But right then, he looked like he was a man worried for a friend.
“Jack Malone. Jack’s missing. I haven’t been able to find him, anywhere. It’s like he’s just vanished.”
“Why did he ask you to look for Mercy Duncan?”
Damion heard the edge in Carter’s voice. They’d hoped to have Sparky confirm that it was Jack who’d hired him. The next step was to get their hands on Jack and find out why.
“He said he was doing it for a business associate. That he’d been asked to locate her. That’s all I know. Swear to God.”
Damion pulled out his phone. Rob was already working on digging into Malone’s Investments. Now, he’d ask him to dig a little harder and a little faster and keep an eye out for possible rabbit holes.
The call didn’t take long, and he returned his attention to the tableau playing out in the interview room.
“What do you think happened to your friend Jack?” Detective Morrissey looked as if she cared. Damion wondered if she had the same chameleon-like ability he shared with Chance.
“I don’t know. I tried to find him. It’s only been a few hours since I got a hold of him…but his two bank accounts that I know of have been cleaned out. Mostly cleaned out. That’s just freaking weird, let me tell you.”
“You hacked into his bank accounts?” Morrissey seemed incensed.
“Hell, no, I didn’t have to. The man gave me access to them. I’m technically a member of the board of directors for his company. Jack trusted me. He wanted me to have full authorization, just in case anything happened to him.” Sparky shook his head, and Damion wondered if Jack Malone had been murdered by whoever it was who’d asked him to find Mercy.
“So, someone stole all his money?” Chance asked.
“No. I think he cleared his own accounts. But he didn’t clean them out completely. Each account has exactly five dollars and seventeen cents left. Weird.”
A few minutes later, Chance left the interview room. Damion met him in the hall, and they headed for the exit.
“Rob’s digging down into Malone’s records. I asked him to check to see if the man has a place somewhere he might run to. But when I called him just now, he’d already uncovered one piece of interesting information.”
“Something that begins to tie this mess together, I hope,” Chance said.
Damion got behind the wheel of his Lincoln, started the car, and looked at Chance. “Yeah. It turns out that, about three years ago, Malone made a hefty investment in a new pharmaceutical company. Care to guess which one?”
“Symington?”
“Got it in one. That means there’s a connection between the two men. I wonder what it is and how deep it goes.
They were almost back at Colleen’s house when Damion’s cell phone rang. He connected the call, and it came in over the car’s radio.
“Quest.”
“Billy Frost here, Damion. I’ve got an ID on the partial. The man’s name is Kelson Jefferies. Connection was verified through the Texas DMV. I�
��ve run a quick background on him. He doesn’t have a record. Thirty-nine years old, employed as a lab assistant with Symington Pharmaceuticals. I have an address on him.”
“Thanks, Billy. You’ve done a good job.”
Chance pulled out his notepad and wrote down the address. He then he yanked out his phone and ran the address through the GPS program.
“Fuck. North side of town, practically on the outskirts.”
Damion’s phone rang again.
“Quest.”
“Mr. Quest, this is Mel Richardson. I work for Kate Benedict. We’ve located Ms. Duncan’s car. It’s stationary at the moment.”
Richardson read off an address, and Damion swore. “Thanks. Please tell Grandma Kate…”
“Will do. Go find your woman.”
He wanted to rush out and do just that, but he needed to be smart about it. The address Richardson had just given him matched the address for Kelvin Jefferies.
Please, let this be almost over.
* * * *
“Why can’t I go with you?” Colleen thought it was a reasonable question. Everything inside her was roiling, and she thought if she didn’t get her way, she just might have a real honest-to-goodness fit.
Daniel cupped her face. She met his gaze and knew whatever he had to say she wasn’t going to like it. She also knew he wouldn’t lie to her.
“We don’t know what we’re going to find, pet. Look, Damion and Chance are already there. They have the house under surveillance. They’re working on verifying occupancy, all while the HPD and the DPS are preparing to move. We told you it would have to be done carefully.”
“You did. But…”
Collaring Colleen [Tales from the Lyon's Den 2] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting) Page 14