Wanting (PAVAD)

by Calle J. Brookes

  The warrant that Hellbrook had secured allowed for the team to search any offices throughout the building for visible signs of a connection to the trafficking ring. It was sketchy, but the legal department had persisted until the warrant went through less than four hours earlier.

  Sebastian’s search was covered, barely, through some fancy maneuvering by the legal department. They’d come through for the CCU again.

  The smell of cigars—Benito Jr. was a heavy smoker—and dust filled his lungs and he forced himself not to sneeze or cough. He felt around with his hands, trying to identify what it was surrounding him. Mostly old coats. Suits. An umbrella; nothing he wouldn’t have expected to find in an office closet.

  His fingers landed on a latch just as he heard someone enter the office. He pressed his ear against the door and listened. The voices were muffled but he had no difficulty identifying them. Benito, Jr. and his main henchman, the bartender Lonnie Victorino.

  Victorino was obviously upset about something. Sebastian heard it in his voice. “I’m telling you, Benny, something is wrong. Courtney’s not been seen in over a week.”

  Sebastian hit the camera button on his phone. The screen would be dark, but the audio was supposed to be state of the art. If they said something while Sebastian was in the process of executing a search warrant, it could be used against them. Not as hearsay.

  “No use borrowing trouble,” Benito Jr. said. “And I have men looking for Courtney. He’ll turn up. He’s probably just hiding since he failed to deliver the last package like agreed upon. I’d given him one warning after the Brazilian merchandise ended up undeliverable.”

  Brazilian. Marco Galeano, the thirteen-year-old boy kidnapped from his school.

  Bingo.

  The two men continued talking, saying nothing else incriminating, but that didn’t matter. Benito Jr. had mentioned Elliot Courtney by name, and hinted at Marco’s death.

  It wasn’t much, but hopefully the black bag in his shirt pocket would lead them where they wanted to go. And they almost had enough for a better warrant. To tear the club apartment searching for anything and everything tied to Brazil and the trafficking ring.

  He waited a good five minutes after the two men left the office before turning his phone on to use the flashlight. He shone the small beam—an upgrade that every PAVAD agent’s phone had—toward the cardboard box he’d bumped into earlier.

  Sebastian looked through it quickly. File folders. Simple, innocuous. He opened the first one, then the second. Scanned them quickly. Purchase orders.

  Purchase orders for people.

  He snapped a few photographs with his camera, then closed the files and the lid, leaving it like he’d found it. He was damned lucky Benito Jr. hadn’t opened the closet door. That would have been too damned close.

  He’d give the photographs to Carrie, then he’d see about getting an extended warrant. He’d found enough to convince even the strictest judge that they’d found what they were looking for.

  Less than a minute later he stepped out into the hall behind Benito Jr.’s office.

  And came face-to-face with Benito Jr.

  “What the hell were you doing in my office? I know your girl wasn’t in there.”

  “Nothing. I thought I heard arguing in there. A woman saying ‘help’.” Sebastian tried to push past the other man. It was a weak excuse and he knew it. And Benito Jr. wasn’t buying.

  “Hearing voices?” Lonnie Victorino stood behind Benito Jr., as did their pal Riley. “I think you’re crazy if you think we’ll believe that. Lonnie, take lover boy here out back. I have a few questions for him.”

  Sebastian thought about resisting—creating a fight that would draw the attention of the rest of the PAVAD agents, but the men didn’t give him the opportunity. And it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. The band was playing and he could hear Carrie singing about the pain of love and the burn of attraction.

  Carrie. Sebastian fought harder then. If Benito made him for a cop, it wasn’t a far stretch for him to look at Carrie, Paige, and the rest.

  Silently, even desperately, he fought; but no matter which way he turned, someone was always there to block his options. They dragged him out the back door and into the alley. Before he could retaliate Lonnie had his arms stretched over his head.

  Two booted feet—from two different owners—hit his ribs from opposing sides. They pummeled him. They’d obviously beaten the shit out of people before. They were damned skilled at it. Even his years at martial arts wasn’t enough to get them off of him.

  Blood ran into his eyes as he pulled one hand free; he ignored it, as he grabbed loose gravel and slammed it into one face. He jabbed with his newly freed elbow, hitting the smallest guy in the throat. The prick backed down.

  The whole exchange continued, him at a complete disadvantage but refusing to go down, in an almost macabre silence.

  Sebastian cursed as a sharp pain went across his arm—Riley had pulled a knife.

  He wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

  ***

  Carrie was never more grateful for ten minute breaks in her life. She’d sang on stage before—and on the streets of New Orleans for one unforgettable summer. Never for five straight hours, days on end, with a bar full of men staring at her.

  Josh and Dan wouldn’t like it, but she needed a minute outside of the club to reboot. She had her gun, strapped to the inside of her hip, so she wasn’t completely defenseless. She didn’t need a babysitter and between those two and Sebastian, she’d barely been able to go to the restroom unaccompanied since Benito’s return. How was she supposed to do her job with those three cavemen hovering?

  She nodded at the stage manager as she sneaked down the corridor to the rear exit. “Hey Kem, if my dad asks, I’m taking a breather, ‘kay?”

  “Sure little doll.” The black man smiled, and Carrie wondered once again what had suckered him into working at this nasty place. “Five minutes, and I’ll be looking for you myself. Back alleys are no place for a girl like you.”

  Carrie thought back to all those cold nights and days when back alleys had been her sanctum. If he only knew…She pushed open the back loading door and paused a moment, inhaling the familiar scent of urban life that only one familiar with those back alleys would ever know. The scent was one that visited her in her dreams nearly every night—and was one she’d never forget.

  She’d not been outside a full minute when a strange sound bounced off the dark bricks of the buildings that formed the alley. Carrie removed the small gun from where she carried it and flipped it quickly from safety. She moved like the experienced field agent that she was.

  Her feet, aching in the ridiculous heels Alessandra had made her wear, she placed carefully to prevent an echo betraying her position. She peered around the corner.

  The man on the ground was easily recognizable to Carrie, and only years on the streets and her time in the Bureau kept her from crying out when Benito Jr. delivered a particularly vicious kick to Sebastian’s stomach.

  But it was the flash of metal slicing through Sebastian’s skin that nearly stopped her heart.

  She cataloged the situation, before taking aim.

  She was almost too late, as the smaller guy, one she didn’t recognize, slashed at Sebastian again. Carrie fired, taking him down with one well-placed shot. She turned toward the other two men, her weapon aimed steadily in their direction. Her hands didn’t shake, though her insides did.

  “Now, Red. Why’d you go and do that for?” Benito asked. “This isn’t your problem. This guy, well, he seemed to think he had the right to look into things he shouldn’t.”

  He stepped closer to Carrie; she held her gun steady as she stared him down. The other two men moved away from Sebastian, who was still on the ground. Carrie knew they thought she presented the bigger threat, with a loaded weapon pointed at them. But she, at least, knew Sebastian wasn’t defenseless. She stepped back, hoping they’d mimic the movement and come closer to her.


  They did. And Sebastian was now behind them.

  ***

  For a man who’d been beaten, Carrie had to admit he moved well. Too quick for her to really watch, and faster than the three men could prevent. He had two on the ground within seconds. The third, he brought to his knees, not three feet from Carrie.

  Sirens were just being heard in the background when Dan and Josh rounded the corner, probably in search of her. They were steps ahead of Kem and the rest of the club’s security staff.

  Before Carrie could say anything the first squad car squealed to a stop at the mouth of the alley. Another barricaded the opposite end. Then Hellbrook and the rest of the teams were swarming the area. Soon the two men were arrested, as was the bar owner and half his employees. Kem wasn’t, thank goodness. Benito, Jr.’s body lay in the middle of the alley, with agents and the M.E.—Dr. Jules—around him.

  Carrie’s shoot was ruled a good, clean shoot, but she had to give Hellbrook her weapon anyway.

  ***

  Sebastian’s arm ached like a bitch, but he waited for the stitches to be finished on scene—he’d refused transport—with no complaint. Dr. Bellows sewed him up with a similar silence. Pain was a good indicator that he was still alive, so he could live with that and the petite doctor was good enough at what she did that he didn’t feel much.

  His mind was consumed with thoughts of Carrie. His mind pictured her as he’d seen her when she’s first rounded the corner—black dress, creamy skin exposed to every man’s eyes, her weapon drawn and steady as she’d stared down two bastards over the body of the third.

  She hadn’t even flinched. Just proceeded with textbook precision, managing to save his sorry ass in the process. Sebastian wasn’t used to that. He’d never had a woman ride to his rescue before, and he wasn’t sure he liked that it was one ten years his junior, with only a few years field experience. One that he wanted to see him as strong and brave. One he wanted, period. And he wasn’t sure he could wait any longer to have her.

  Chapter 61

  *****

  Should he? Talk to the woman he knew was a friend of Caroline’s?

  Kevin mulled over the questions after forcing himself to look away from the redheaded connection to his daughter. No, it wouldn’t be fair to anyone to involve strangers in the situation. He forced his attention to the television that little Smokey Jo had playing over the corner tables. It was hard to hear the news reel, but he had no difficulty reading the banner that scrolled across the bottom of the page.

  He felt a moment’s anger and sadness when he realized the news was reporting the unidentified body found down by the river three nights ago had been that of a police officer with the Missouri State Police. He’d been dead at least a week before being found.

  No one had realized the man was missing.

  Kevin couldn’t understand that—what kind of police officer went missing for close to a week and a half and no one realized he was gone? What kind of colleagues did the man have?

  The rest of the bar went silent, even the band stopping their playing at a call from little Smokey Jo—the blonde woman he’d spoken with his first time in the club. It was a touching salute to the fallen officer, comrade to many of the bar’s patrons, Kevin realized. He removed his own hat and lifted his bottle toward the television as the fallen officer’s photograph suddenly flashed on the screen.

  Kevin choked on the beer he’d just swallowed, pulling multiple gazes in his direction.

  The fallen police officer, identified as Police Lieutenant Robert Thompson. He’d been at the St. Louis police post for less than three weeks.

  And Lt. Robert Thompson was a dead fucking ringer—literally—for Minton Rush.

  The newscast—now loud enough for the entire club to hear—continued with the information that there were currently no leads into who or why the lieutenant was killed.

  But Kevin knew differently. Melody had emailed him some startling news that morning. Rush, his old partner, had been paroled less than two weeks ago.

  Rush had had to have happened upon the lieutenant and seized the opportunity as soon as it presented itself. What a better cover for whatever it was he was up to than as one of the city’s finest?

  That bastard.

  He was out there somewhere, with a police officer’s uniform, badge, and weapon.

  And as an ex-cop, Minton Rush knew exactly how to use them.

  But what in the hell did he want with Caroline?

  Chapter 62

  *****

  Carrie was packing the rest of her clothing, including the seductive dresses she’d been forced to wear when the knock sounded on the bedroom door. She opened it and stared at the man waiting. “Sebastian? What are you doing here? Does Hell need me?”

  “No. Nothing’s wrong. I just needed to see for myself that you were ok.”

  Carrie frowned. “I’m fine. You were the one that was hurt.” The white bandage over the knife wound in his arm glared white against his warm tan skin. Reminded her of how vulnerable they all were. She’d never been so afraid, and had been thankful she’d been able to detach from her feelings for him long enough to do what had to be done. “They could have killed you.”

  “Probably would have, if you hadn't been there.” Sebastian wrapped warm hands around her arms and pulled her closer. Like he had so many times in the past week.

  Had it all been pretend?

  Carrie didn't know. “Where is everyone else?”

  “Dan, Josh, and Hell are still on scene, supervising the serving of the last few warrants. Interviewing Kem and the rest of the staff. Dennis and Bellows have already headed back to PAVAD with the seized documents.”

  “Where are Alessandra and Paige?”

  “Already headed home. Said they'd be by tomorrow to pick up their things. I didn't want you here alone.”

  “I'm ok. I can take care of myself. I think I proved that tonight.”

  “Yes, you did. Took care of me, too. Are you planning on heading back to PAVAD tonight?”

  “I need to. I should file my report. Hell told me I could wait until tomorrow, but...”

  “I'll drive you. I need to hit my office for a bit anyway. Then I'll give you a ride home, ok?”

  Was that what she wanted?

  There were things she wanted to talk to him about; she couldn't deny that.

  So much had happened between them in just a week. His hands had been all over her body, they'd kissed so many times, in ways that weren't just because of the story they were trying to create. No, he meant the things he'd said to her, told her. And now that the case was over, they were free to explore whatever it was going on between them.

  ***

  Sebastian tried not to look at the woman in the passenger seat too often. It was so damned hard to do.

  She was a bundle of contradictions and he’d be the first to admit that. From the very beginning she’d fascinated him. And he strongly suspected she always would.

  She’d looked so damned good in that damned dress, black straps that crossed creamed shoulders, red hair tumbling down her back as if some man had buried his hands deep in it. And he had before—when they’d danced and when he’d held her on a Louisville street. That vanilla scented hair was soft as red silk. A sexy siren with the voice of the mythical creatures, housed in the body of Carrie Sparks? Contradictory. Sebastian had always been bothered by contradictions, needing to tear them into the smallest component until he had a grasp of what they truly were. He didn’t know if he’d be able to do that with this woman. But damned if he didn’t want to try. And try. Spend the rest of his life trying.

  He didn’t want to go back to PAVAD. Not tonight, and he told her so. They could deal with everything—reports, the strange man named Kevin, everything—in the morning. He and Carrie needed time for themselves first. Screw the job, for once. He turned toward the downtown residential area. He parked and they silently entered her building.

  She went through her routine, checking her mail an
d messages, calling for the cat. She barely looked at Sebastian.

  But he understood.

  She still didn’t have a couch, but somehow a chair had appeared from somewhere. She stood in the center of her home and stared. And stared.

  Sebastian went up behind her and wrapped his hands around her shoulders, easily feeling the shivers shaking her body. “Carrie…”

  She spun to face him, a world of hurt, pain, and confusion in her eyes. “I killed a man tonight.”

  Her first? Probably. She was so young to be in the field. “Carrie…”

  “If I hadn’t, they were going to kill you. And then probably me. And they could have gone after Paige and Alessandra. The others. But…I killed a man tonight.”

  Because he’d gotten his ass into trouble. Would he ever forget the nightmares currently running through her eyes? He didn’t think so. “Baby…”

  “If I hadn’t killed him you’d be dead.”

  What was he supposed to say to that? It was the damned truth. He couldn’t say anything so he acted instead. His head dropped and he kissed her, hard, with all the pent-up heat, frustration, and every other emotion he had felt for her over the last two weeks in that one kiss.

  She kissed him back. Just as hot.

  Before he knew it they were on the chair, her straddling him and that damned black dress riding up around her hips. His hands dropped to her ass and he pulled her closer.

  She was a runner, and Sebastian felt the true evidence beneath his palms. Her ass was tight and firm, and the thigh muscles below were taut and well-developed. Carrie had a kick-ass body.

  It took him less than five seconds to have the black dress off her and hitting the floor. “Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart?”

  “Yes. Hurry. Hurry.” Her hands tugged his shirt up, pushing the cotton as far as it would go. He obliged her unspoken order, pulled the material over his head. Then he crushed his mouth to hers, tasting her long and deep. He felt the silk of her bra against the naked skin of his chest.