by D. V. Berkom
Miles leaned his head back and sighed. “Christ, Leine. Can't you give the woman a break? We almost got her daughter back, but now you—or something—scared her off. Obviously, she doesn't want to talk to you. She's really upset.”
“Stop it, both of you,” April said, putting her hand on Leine's arm.
“Where the hell did she go?” Leine shook off her daughter's hand and brushed past Miles into the restaurant, scanning the room for Jean. She wasn't in the dining area. Leine strode to the ladies room and pushed open the door. Jean was on her cell again. This time she didn't say goodbye to whomever she was talking to and slipped the phone inside her purse.
“What do you want?” Jean's mouth was set in a grim line. Anger radiated off of her.
Without thinking, Leine ripped the nine millimeter from its holster and pointed it at her. “Who were you talking to just now?”
Jean's face paled as she stared at Leine. “I told you. A…a friend from Nevada—” Beads of sweat rolled down her face. She started to shake.
Keeping the gun on her, Leine reached inside Jean's purse and pulled out her phone.
“You can't do that,” Jean hissed.
Leine lowered the gun and stepped back as she pressed the icon for recent calls. The air snapped between them. She'd barely caught a glimpse of the last number called when Jean lunged forward and smacked the phone from her hand. Bits of plastic scattered as it hit the floor.
Leine narrowed her eyes. “Nevada? I don't think so, Jean. The number's local.”
“Where the hell do you get off?” Jean ran to the cell and stepped on the case, grinding it into the tile. She looked back at Leine, tears streaming down her face. “Fuck you,” she said, and stormed out of the bathroom.
Leine slid her gun back into the holster and bent over to examine the phone. It didn't look salvageable. Taking a moment to compose herself, she pocketed the larger pieces before she walked out to join the others.
April stood in the hallway near the kitchen, talking to a man dressed in whites and a chef's hat. Jean and Miles were in the foyer, speaking in hushed tones. Jean abruptly stopped talking and they both turned as she approached.
“What the hell are you doing?” Miles demanded, his eyes dark with anger. “Jean says you threatened her.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “With a gun.”
“Miles, you need to listen to me—”
Miles held up his hand. “No—” He rounded on her. “You need to listen. You work for me, remember?”
“She's lying to you.”
Jean put her hand on his arm and shook her head. “She's crazy, Miles. No wonder she scared Mara.”
Leine sighed in disgust. “She said she was calling a friend in Nevada, but it was a local number.”
“That's a lie, Miles. I did no such thing.”
“Let's get this over with, once and for all,” Miles said. He held out his hand. “Give me your phone, Jean.”
“I can't,” Jean answered as fresh tears fell. “I dropped it when Leine attacked me and it broke.”
“For your information, she hit it out of my hand and then stepped on it so the number can't be recovered. How convenient, eh, Jean?”
“That's a lie.” Jean practically spat the words.
Leine crossed her arms. “Who are you going to believe? Which one of us has the most to lose here?”
Miles looked from Jean back to Leine, confusion evident on his face.
“Look, Miles. For some reason, Mara got spooked tonight. I was there by the window when she tried to get your attention, remember? It wasn't me she's afraid of, and I doubt she saw the gun. There's one other possibility: it might have had something to do with the black car I saw speeding out of the parking lot.”
Jean and Miles both stared at her. “What black car?” Miles asked, obviously alarmed.
“A black sedan pulled out as I came around front. I didn't get a good look at the driver, but I memorized the plates.”
Miles stiffened. “You think someone got her? Jesus.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes.
“I didn't say that. I said I saw a black sedan speeding off, not that I saw her inside the car. It's a possibility we have to consider.”
“Oh, God,” Jean said, and slid down the wall to the floor.
Miles dropped to a crouch and wrapped his arm around Jean's shoulder. He glanced up at Leine. “If she wasn't in the car and you or your gun scared her off, there's no way she'll come near me. Not as long as you're around. And, if they got her, then we're back to square one.” His expression hardened. “It's not only because of Mara. You pulled a gun on my sister, Leine. I have to let you go.”
April inhaled sharply, but didn't say anything. Jean's expression held a mixture of relief and something else Leine couldn't quite pinpoint. Triumph?
“Do you really think—”
“You can stay the night, then pack your things tomorrow. I'll call for your replacement in the morning.”
Leine checked at the finality in his tone. Summoning her self-control, she gave him a quick nod. “Fine. If that's what you want, I won't argue. It's your call. I think you're making a huge mistake, Miles.”
Jean leaned her head on Miles' chest and he wrapped his arm more tightly around her shoulders. “You're wrong, Leine. Jean's right about this. She knows her own daughter.”
Leine stopped a valet passing by and asked him to bring the car around. “You'd sure think so, wouldn't you?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
FROM THE DEEP SHADOW OF a small stand of wind-swept pines, Mara watched the black car leave the parking lot. Tears streamed down her face as she fought the hopelessness that threatened to engulf her. Why was that woman with Miles? Now she had no one to turn to. Miles wouldn't help her, not when he was obviously friends with the dark-haired lady.
Mara slid down the trunk of the tree to sit, ignoring the rough bark that scraped her back and wondered what to do next. This had been her big chance to get the actor to help her. The nice woman from the dress shop had given her a telephone number to call in case no one came to get her, but Mara was afraid she would report her to the cops, and they'd for sure send her back to the foster monster's house. Miles would understand. He was raised in foster care, too.
Weariness flowed through her body. She couldn't think straight, she was so tired. Tempted to fall asleep right there, she thought better of the idea and stood up.
She walked through the trees and down an embankment to a cleared spot on a ridge above the ocean where she'd slept the night before. The sound of the waves pounding against the shore soothed her as she gazed at the starlit sky. It was cooler here at night than in the city, but Mara didn't mind. She loved the ocean, had never seen it before coming to California. She'd spent the daylight hours waiting for Miles to show up walking along the beach, picking up shells and pretty rocks, and watching the birds. The half-eaten food in the garbage bin behind the restaurant hadn't been so bad. She was grateful to the woman in the dress shop for giving her new clothes to wear. The jeans and sweater kept her warm at night, and she looked normal, not all dirty.
Mara's thoughts turned back to the black car in the parking lot. Could it have been the men who were looking for her? She didn't want to find out and hid so the man driving the car couldn't see her. So many people were looking for her, but she only wanted to be found by one person. Miles Fournier. Mara sighed as she watched a satellite float across the night sky. One of the kids at her foster home had showed her how to spot them, and now she always looked.
Maybe he won't bring the woman with him next time. If he did, she was going to have to think of another plan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE ELEVATOR DOOR PINGED OPEN and Leine stepped into the familiar hallway. Jensen had called and left a message asking her to stop by when she had a chance. She didn't recognize the phone number. Contacting a person who was under investigation for three murders wasn't a good career move for a homicide detective.
She couldn't shake the dark cloud ha
nging above her head since Miles let her go, and it continued to dog her to Jensen's apartment. This couldn't be good news. Jensen's tone hadn't been what she'd call friendly.
She reached his apartment door and knocked. She wore a low-cut, feminine blouse and tight-fitting skirt that showed off her legs, sans underwear. There wasn't any reason they couldn’t say a proper hello to each other first.
The lock slid free and the door opened. The instant Leine and Jensen's eyes met, a bolt of electricity shot through her, curling her toes. The same reaction she always had when he looked at her. Judging by his expression, he felt the same. Jensen managed a smile and stepped aside as she walked into his apartment. Leine scanned the room for traces of another woman, but found none. Maybe he really did just give someone a ride home.
“Leine.” He walked behind her to close the door and brushed her arm.
“Santa.” Leine turned to him as she placed her purse on the hall table. She moved in for a kiss, but he stepped back and shook his head.
“No, Leine. What I have to tell you—”
Leine placed her finger across his lips and slid her hand up his chest. His breathing quickened as she began to unbutton his shirt. At the same time she gently kissed him and nipped at his neck, feeling her blood warm, losing herself in his scent. She trailed her other hand along his hip and curved inward.
With a groan, Jensen buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. His hands dropped to the hem of her skirt and he slid it upward. At that moment, Leine forgot the reason she was there, wanting only to feel him again. Nothing else mattered; the place could go up in flames and she wouldn't care.
Jensen moved her back until she was against the wall. His hands caressed her hips and then moved down to her ass. Leine slid her leg along his thigh, hooked it behind him and pulled him closer. Her breathing matched his as he lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist while he shrugged free of his jeans, and leaned her head back with a sigh.
***
Jensen finished dressing and helped Leine smooth her skirt. Her lips were swollen where he'd kissed her, and he lightly brushed his thumb over them. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, but couldn't bring himself to say the words. The news he had to deliver wasn't good, and he worried the end result would mean she'd be gone from his life forever. The fact that he loved her wouldn't change anything.
Leine smiled and kissed his fingers, her eyes a sleepy version of the ones he always dreamed about. He refused to ask why this was happening. The first time Santiago Jensen found himself deeply in love and it was with someone who had a past like Leine's. Once he told her what the feds were up to, it would only be a matter of time before she disappeared.
“How's the security detail going? Glamorous, right?” He'd avoided reading anything about Miles Fournier in case there was mention of his attractive female bodyguard.
Leine walked into the living room and took a seat on the couch. “It's gotten interesting. I'd like to talk to you about a recent development.”
“Oh?” Jensen sat beside her and put his hand on her leg. She slid her hand in his and settled back. It felt natural, her being in his apartment, talking with her about her work. “What happened?” he asked, happy to delay the inevitable conversation.
“First of all, I'm no longer employed by Miles Fournier.”
“Oh?”
“Long story. I'll get to it in a minute. A while ago a woman contacted him, claiming to be his sister.”
“Easy enough to check.”
She nodded. “I have samples at a lab and should be getting the results tomorrow. That's only part of the development. The woman is looking for her twelve-year-old daughter who was supposedly abducted by sex traffickers. We found out that she got away and was on her own on the streets.”
“Was?”
“It's possible the traffickers found her. But I'm getting ahead of myself.”
“Have you called LAPD?”
“No. That's the weird part. The mother told me the traffickers said they have a mole in the department and would know if she reported her daughter was kidnapped. I could understand why she was reticent about contacting you guys when they had her, but now that the girl's supposedly out in the open, I don't see why she wouldn't want all hands on deck looking for her. It doesn't jibe. She has to be hiding something.”
“Do you have any leads? Unless they've got her, it won't be long before someone else picks her up, either for sex or worse.”
“We talked to a guy who had the crap beat out of him by two men who were looking for her. He said the girl believed Miles would help her if she could get to him, so he gave her the address of a restaurant that Miles supposedly frequented. She was going to hang out and wait for him to show up. We went there last night and she showed, but got scared and ran. That's where I think she may have been picked up.”
“What spooked her?”
Leine shifted on the couch. “That's where it gets even weirder. Miles and Jean, the mother, are both convinced the kid was afraid of me, or, more specifically, my gun. Miles is so vested in helping this woman and her child that he canned me rather than risk the possibility of scaring her off again.” She opted not to tell him about pulling the gun on Jean in the bathroom. Not her finest moment.
“Why would the kid be afraid of your gun? Did she see it?”
“I'm fairly certain she didn't. I think she ran either because she saw one of the traffickers or because she saw Jean. Those are the only logical explanations. And, Jean lied to me about a phone number she called, even went so far as to destroy her phone. I have a bad feeling about her, Santa. I don't think she's who she says she is. “
“The DNA results will tell you that.”
“I just hope Miles listens if the test comes back negative.”
“I'll report the girl to our Human Trafficking Unit. I seriously doubt they have a mole in the department. You can bet they told her that to get her to cooperate.”
“The director of the Gospel Mission Homeless Center, Heinrich Bauer, said he filed a report with the unit, so maybe if you could flag it for them, let them know there's someone out there looking for her.”
“Sure. Give me her description and I'll get it to them tomorrow.”
“They need to be discreet. If Jean sees the police, I don't know how she'll react. It could put Miles in danger.”
“But you said the traffickers might already have her?”
“When I ran out to the parking lot to find her, a black four-door BMW sped away. I didn't get a good look at the driver and I didn't see the girl, but I memorized the license plate.”
“I'll run the number, see if it turns up anything.”
“Thanks, Santa. I appreciate it. I've also got contacts I haven't reached out to yet who may be able to help.”
“Why do you care so much about what happens to this girl?”
“She's got no one. Her own mother is afraid to get the police involved. The least I can do is get the information into the right hands, try to find out where she is if they took her. Can you imagine how scared that little girl is right now? And, frankly, the possibility that the traffickers might win pisses me off.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling.”
Leine leaned her head on the back of the couch and sighed. If she was completely honest with herself, the overriding reason was because she hoped that helping Mara would in some small way absolve her of having been a shitty mother to April all those years.
Hell, it was worth a try.
“Okay, Santa. I know you didn't invite me over here to make love. That much I understand. What's so important you'll risk your career consorting with a woman under investigation for murder?”
Jensen let go of her hand and shifted on the couch to face her. “There's new evidence against you. It shows you in L.A. on the dates of the murders.”
Leine closed her eyes. “Let me guess. They have car rental agreements and airline manifests with my alias?”
“Yes.”
Jensen nodded. “I need the documents you sent to Eric's boss. I can get them to someone in the FBI who isn't beholden to the Agency. Go above Eric's boss' head.”
Leine's smile held a sadness Jensen didn't like. “You're going to show those papers to the Vice President of the United States? Because, darling, that's who Eric's boss answers to.”
Jensen leaned forward. “Didn't you say you thought Eric had intercepted the docs? That means there's a possibility his boss hasn't seen the information. My contact may be able to figure out some way to circumvent Eric's firewall, whatever it is, and get them into the right hands.”
“I have no problem giving you the information. I just don't think it's going to work. Eric will figure out something to save his ass, he always does. There has to be a fall guy—and that's me.” Leine rose to leave.
“It doesn't need to be that way, Leine.” Jensen pulled her back down to the couch. “Stay,” he whispered.
“I have to go.” She looked away.
“Just for tonight.”
“I—”
Jensen kissed away her objections.
***
They lay on his bed in the dark, his arms wrapped around her waist as he nuzzled her neck. Leine smiled at the tickling sensation. Would it be such a bad thing to be able to stay here with Santa? Actually let herself be in love again? She sighed at the thought. Her life was too complicated, too fraught with a past that wouldn't stay hidden, no matter what she tried. Santa had cracked open the wall she'd created around her emotions, giving her a glimpse of what her life could have been like had she chosen a different path.
There were so many barriers to a happy ending. Sure, if they succeeded in pinning the murders on Eric, then that would take care of one of the obstacles they faced together. But it would also create more problems than it solved.
Every time they came together, Leine could see her love for him reflected in his eyes. She knew that would never be enough. He'd always know what she'd done and that would affect their relationship. Loving a woman who had killed people for a living was not a good career move for a homicide detective. She'd hate herself if he had to give that up for her. Hell, she wasn't sure she could bring herself to trust another human being like she'd once trusted Carlos. And, last time she'd checked, trust was one of the main facets of a successful relationship.