The Agent's Covert Affair

by Karen Anders

  “Water,” he said, partially mollified, but still wary, especially after Lily’s name was mentioned. He didn’t seem to notice how Derrick had glossed over his acquiescence in staying in the interrogation room. Either he was playing it cool or he was trying to play Derrick.

  “What does this have to do with Petty Officer St. John?”

  “What were her duties?” This question was key. The first rule of interrogation was to create a baseline, forcing the suspect to access different parts of his brain. Asking nonthreatening questions that required access to memory or the other part of the brain required for thinking broadcasted nonverbal clues to Derrick. Ward’s eyes went to the right, a cue that he was remembering, accessing the part of the brain used for memory.

  “She’s an E4, Petty Officer Third Class, a mass communication specialist. She performs graphic design in support of the public affairs mission, designing and managing official websites and performing high-speed, high-volume graphic reproduction.”

  There was a knock on the door. Derrick rose and accepted the bottle of water from Amber’s hands. Ward’s gaze darted to the two-way mirror. Yeah, this guy had something to hide. Interrogation was all about human nature. Set the subject at ease and get them to talk about things that were true. Then delve a little deeper and drop the big bomb. It made it more difficult to lie effectively. A nervous suspect got nervous for a reason. Derrick had enough experience with simple and complex interrogations. Some were sanctioned and others were dark-ops related. He didn’t judge himself. His judgment was all about justice, and it was his bottom line.

  “How would you rate her as an employee and sailor?” Warmth flooded Ward’s eyes as they moved to the left, indicating that Ward was thinking and activating his cognitive center.

  He smiled and said, “She’s exemplary at both. Punctual, always willing to go the extra mile. She has a sweet disposition. Her output is top-notch and she’s a hard worker.”

  “What is she currently working on. Anything sensitive?”

  For a moment Ward stared at Derrick, his eyes sharpening as if Derrick was accusing Lily of something criminal. The disbelief on his face was added to Derrick’s mental database. Then he looked right, a sure sign that he was accessing his memory banks.

  “She’s working on the navy’s Birthday Bash website. We’re gearing up to sell tickets and plan the event. All the employees in public affairs handle sensitive matters, but if you’re insinuating that Lily...Petty Officer St. John...is in any way acting against her country, you must be mistaken,” he said, disgust evident in his voice and face.

  “When was the last time you talked to her?”

  “Yesterday. I didn’t see her today. I was busy and in meetings.” Ward looked to the left instead of right, indicating to Derrick that he was lying. He had had contact with Lily the day she went down those stairs.

  “Were you in a meeting at six this morning?”

  His eyes shuttered and his lips pinched, Ward shook his head. “No. I was home getting dressed to go on base. Why do you want to know where I was at six a.m.? Is Lily in some kind of trouble?” He was telling the truth.

  It was time to confront this suspect, to get a confession out of him and hopefully the possibility of getting a lead on Lily’s son. “She’s in a coma. She was tossed down the stairs, Commander. She was found this afternoon.” Derrick opened his folder and spread out the photos on the table.

  The blood drained from the commander’s face as his shocked and suddenly moist eyes stared at Derrick. “No,” he whispered, swallowing hard. “That can’t be. No wonder she didn’t answer me,” he added desolately.

  “Answer you?”

  He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly. “How did this happen?”

  “You have special ops training, correct?”

  Ward stiffened, broadcasting loud and clear he knew exactly why Derrick was asking him. “I washed out of the SEALs, but that’s no disgrace.”

  “You’d have the strength to toss her down the stairs.”

  Ward’s face contorted in anger and anguish, then with a small, explosive move, he pushed the photos toward Derrick. “I didn’t hurt Lily! I wouldn’t do that... I love her.” His voice fierce, he leaned back and his eyes moistened again.

  Leaning forward, Derrick pushed the photos back; it was time to discover why Ward had committed the crime. It was all about setting up a confession. Derrick leaned in again, dropping his voice to one of understanding. “I get it. You’re a married man. Maybe she was getting sick of waiting around for you. Maybe she was pushing the issue, threatening to tell your wife.”

  “No, that’s not—”

  “Not to mention the charges you would be brought up on if the brass discovered that you’re fraternizing with an enlisted sailor under your authority.” This time Derrick pulled out a photo of Matthew and set it down. “One you got pregnant. Where is your son, Commander?”

  “I didn’t do this!” he said vehemently. Then his face softened as he looked down at the baby’s picture. He picked it up. “I have two sons of my own.” He raised his eyes and said, his voice subdued and filled with concern, “Matthew’s missing? Who would do this to her?”

  “I know this must be hard, considering your career, your livelihood, the scandal, but this is a baby boy who has an aunt and a great-grandmother who want him back. Tell us where he is, Commander. It’ll go better for you.”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t take him. I’m getting divorced. I’ve already filed the papers, and I’m retiring from the navy effective a month from now. They’ve hired me on to work with the office in a civil capacity. We would have been able to be together. I was going to marry her. Matthew isn’t my son, but I intended to adopt him.” His voice caught, then broke. “I know cheating isn’t admirable, but it just happened. My wife and I have been unhappy for a long time. She and I made this decision together and it’s completely amicable. You can talk to her if you like. I’ve already come clean about Lily. She knows.”

  Derrick wasn’t getting any kind of lying vibe from him. “How can you be sure Matthew isn’t yours?”

  “Because she was pregnant before we started having an affair. She came to me, panicked and scared. I gave her a shoulder to cry on and we got closer and closer. After she had Matty, we got physical, but it was only about eight weeks ago. I’d already filed the papers.” He swallowed hard and his eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you ask her sister about Lily’s ‘accident’? They had a terrible fight about her taking that assignment in Okinawa, Japan. We were going together, and Emma didn’t want her to move so far away. It was a sweet deal of a job for Lily, would help her get promoted. Lily was determined to go against Emma’s wishes. Maybe they fought over Matty and it got heated. Maybe it was Emma who pushed her down the stairs by accident. She’s the sweetest, kindest person I’ve ever known... Damn, where is she?” He covered his face and sat back, his shoulders shaking.

  The man was genuinely upset and that meant Derrick had come to another dead end. William Samuels was an explosive ordinance disposal tech on the EOD Mobile Unit that had been at sea during three months of Lily’s possible pregnancy and was currently still on sea duty. After contacting the captain of the U.S.S. Pioneer, it was established that Petty Officer Samuels wasn’t recently in San Diego as he was out to sea. He couldn’t have pushed Lily down the stairs and abducted her son.

  * * *

  Hours later, after poring over all of Lily’s personal information and looking through everything on her phone, including pictures she’d taken on a cruise where she looked tanned, fit and happy, Derrick left the quiet, darkened office. Emma’s shocked and devastated eyes haunted him through all his waking hours as something undefined stirred in his gut—nothing sexual, more elusive than that. A kind of soul-deep restlessness. What would calm it? Finding out who had done this to Emma’s sister, giving her the closure she needed.
He wanted to find the infant and return him to his family. His insides scored with memory, he clamped down on his pain.

  He’d been adopted after spending many years in the foster care system. Derrick had been...troubled, with no memory of his biological family. No one even remembered where he came from and it left him feeling detached, lost. When Jerome Thornton had found him and adopted him, Derrick thought he might have found the family he craved. But Thornton was a cold, calculating man. He’d wanted a kid with street smarts, wanted to groom him into Thornton’s likeness, make him into someone just as ruthless.

  Thornton was a corporate raider, gleefully planned hostile takeovers to sell companies for profit, no matter who it hurt.

  Derrick had lived in luxury, had had everything he could have ever wanted, except what he always craved—family, connection, a sense of place and self.

  He didn’t want to delve too deep as to why. He didn’t need to know why; he just needed it. He also didn’t want to analyze his deep-seated belief that Emma couldn’t have hurt her sister like Ward had suggested. He shifted to ease the flip-flopping sensation in his chest.

  The sun would be rising by the time he got back to La Mesa. He stopped at a coffee shop on his way out of Pendleton for an infusion of caffeine, his mind wandering back to Emma St. John.

  His cell rang and he answered. “You’re heading back to La Mesa, aren’t you?”

  Kai Talbot was one perceptive woman, and it was unnerving how she read him. “Why aren’t you sleeping, boss lady?”

  “There’s a missing kid—that always puts me on edge.”

  He didn’t know her story and, still unused to sharing anything even with his team members, he remained closed-lipped about his. He knew what it was like to be abandoned and lost as a child; he knew what it was like to lose a son. He wasn’t going to stop until he found this kid.

  “We’ve had a call from the complex reporting one of their landscapers is missing. Check it out when you get there and keep me posted. But, Derrick, don’t burn out. Get some rest.”

  “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  He pulled up to Lily’s house, dislodged the crime scene tape and went inside. Donning gloves, he looked around. Sometimes sifting through a crime scene gave him clues to follow. He went to the back door. This was where the possible intruder had gained entrance.

  It wasn’t clear whether Lily had let him in or he’d walked inside; the normal floor scuff marks could mask a break-in. If the intruder had gotten inside by forcing the door, that wasn’t evident. There had been debris that suggested the kidnapper had removed his footwear. Frustrated, Derrick went back to the front door. Through the window, he saw a car pull up into the parking space next door. Looked like Lily’s next-door neighbor, Gail Baker, was burning the midnight oil. She wearily rubbed the back of her neck, her uniform rumpled and wrinkled. She walked up the path and disappeared from his view.

  He left Lily’s house and knocked on Lieutenant Baker’s door. Moments later the pretty, middle-aged woman answered. Derrick flashed his badge and introduced himself and his purpose. She was dismayed at the news of Lily’s condition. Her face went sad and white.

  “Please come in,” she said, ushering him into the living room. “I was just getting ready to go to bed.”

  “Your neighbor said you were a lawyer. JAG, right?”

  She nodded. “I’ve been working on a big case. Just got in.” She folded her arms across her chest. “It’s terrible that someone hurt Lily? Why?”

  “We’re still working that out.”

  “And Matty is missing? That is so disturbing.” She shook her head. “Can I get you some coffee? I have one of those nifty personal brewers. It would only take a minute.”

  He nodded and while he sat down at the counter, she pressed buttons and handed him a cup. “I’m heartbroken about Lily. She’s a beautiful person. So sweet. Do you know where she’s been hospitalized?”

  “NAB, but she’s in a coma, so it might only be family members allowed to visit at this point. She’s also under guard, just in case.” He sipped at the hot brew. “Did you know her well?”

  “Yes and no. We talked a bit. She loves that boy, but was in quite a turmoil when she first got pregnant. She wouldn’t tell me who the father was, if you’re looking for that information.”

  “I was. Did you notice anything suspicious or out of the ordinary yesterday?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. There was a teen here who I didn’t recognize. He was probably about sixteen or so. Black hair, hard-looking eyes. I’m very observant. Comes with being a lawyer.” She shrugged. “Anyway, he had on this landscaper’s shirt, a dark green color. The same shirt our landscaper wears, too. An older man, Kevin. He’s a sweetheart.”

  “What was out of the ordinary about the guy wearing a dark green landscaper’s shirt?”

  “It was too small, ill-fitting. He also had this disturbing tattoo. It was on his upper arm, and it was of this woman, but creepy, as if a skeleton’s mask had been placed over her face. There were these curlicue designs on her forehead and chin, stitching across her lips. Both eyes were blackened with studs around them, but the left eye had this red X with blood dripping down.”

  “Would you be willing to sit with an artist?”

  “Yes. I can do that. I was supposed to be back after sleep and a change of clothes. Let me call the office.” She picked up her cell. “There’s one other thing that I wanted to mention. When I took out the trash, I noticed an unfamiliar car out back, a black sedan. It was a rental.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It had shiny new plates, unadorned by dealer badges, and had a bar code sticker in the back window. The rental agency uses a bar code to scan the car when it goes in and out of the lot, in order to keep track of it.”

  “Did you happen to get the plate number?”

  “I did.” She wrote it down and handed him the paper. “Lily’s sister was here this morning. You just missed her. She’s a PI and I told her everything I told you. I’m surprised she didn’t get in touch with you.”

  Derrick clenched his jaw and thanked Gail. He left her town house and scanned the neighborhood. His eyes stopped roving when he spied a dark green pickup truck with a metal trailer on the back, carrying a mower, several tools—rake, clippers, blower and an edger, along with an orange and white cooler. He headed toward it and, as he got closer, he spied the name on the side. The Green Thumb. That explained the dark green color of the truck and the shirts.

  Derrick approached the flatbed of the pickup and when he glanced inside, there was a tarp that looked like it was used to cover the equipment on the trailer. His gut clenched when he spied a distinct bundle underneath it.

  Reaching into the vehicle, he flipped the tarp away.

  The dead face and open eyes of an older man looked sightlessly up at him, his chest bare.

  * * *

  An hour later, after he’d gotten Gail Baker to confirm that the dead man was Kevin, and NCIS forensic medical examiner, Ray Sotheby, had found a puncture wound at the back of the dead landscaper’s head, Derrick decided that tracking down Emma St. John for her safety and to keep her from doing something foolish was a good plan of action. He wouldn’t admit to himself that he was only concerned about her as a course of his duty. There was nothing personal about it.

  He tried calling Emma, but there was no answer. He accessed DMV and found her home address and drove over there, but when he knocked at the beautiful stone and clapboard house, there was no answer. After peering in the garage, he discovered that her car was gone. He got back in his car and drove over to her office.

  St. John Investigations was located in downtown San Diego in a stone building. Walking inside, he went to the receptionist. “I’m looking for Emma St. John.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, you just missed her.” It was clear the
woman was well versed on not giving a thing away.

  “Did she say where she was going?” Derrick pulled out his badge and flashed it. “This is important and involves a federal investigation.”

  Her lips thinned and she said, “I’m not exactly sure.” But it was clear to Derrick that she knew exactly where Emma had gone, but was given strict instructions not to say. “I don’t believe she’ll be long. She has an appointment in the next thirty minutes. If you’d like to take a seat—”

  “No. I’m not waiting. But never mind. I think I know.” There was only one thing on Emma’s mind right now, and that was finding her nephew and discovering what had happened to her sister. Derrick smiled slightly and turned away.

  Chapter 3

  Emma stood resolute, her eyes gritty, her body weary, but her determination to find out who took Matty and hurt her sister burning hot. She’d already snagged a blue smock from Crown Car Rental Agency and was behind the counter. The trick to getting information as a PI was looking the part she was playing. She accessed the computer and typed in the license plate that Gail Baker had given her and when it popped up on the screen, she scanned the data.

  George Douglas. That was the name of the man who had rented the black sedan that had been parked behind Lily’s house.

  “Excuse me,” said a male voice, nicking the edge of her focus. She was already memorizing the information. Some compelling force made her look up. Her gaze collided with that NCIS agent. The one who looked like a rough and tumble James Bond was staring at her across the counter.

  She would recognize him anywhere, the angles of his face so achingly perfect, the straight, beautiful nose, a firm, sensual mouth accentuated by the beard stubble darkening his jaw—and those eyes, cobalt blue under dark lashes, undeniably intense, unconditionally unwavering...unequivocally locked on to hers. She had to work to not get distracted by those piercing blue eyes. Mr. Gorgeous wasn’t happy, but that was too damn bad. She didn’t answer to him or to anyone. It was clear the navy cops had their own club and giving a victim’s family member any information or allow them to participate in the investigation was as likely as an elephant flying. She was going to change their minds. She was tailor-made to help with this investigation.