While he’d never met the cop Jake had dated for a few weeks over a year ago, he knew the name. Marco took the phone and brought it to his ear. “DeAngelis.”
The officer had obviously heard Boomer tell him who was on the phone. “Hey. Sorry to call like this, but I’m at a house over here in Clearwater with a home invasion and I’ve got an unconscious assault victim. We haven’t been able to find her cell phone or a list of emergency contacts. She just moved into the neighborhood and the house is trashed, but I found your business card on her refrigerator. Does the name Millicent Williams ring a bell?”
While his teammates and their women waited for details, Marco shook his head at the unfamiliar name. “Millicent? I have no idea who that is.” But something niggled his brain.
Over the phone, he could hear the squawks of police radios and the voices of other officers working the scene. “Hang on a sec. There’s a diploma on the wall here in the home office. Her full name is Millicent Harper Williams.”
The blood drained from Marco’s face and his gut clenched as he finally made the connection to his deceased sister’s best friend—the woman who invaded his dreams since their one night together thirteen months ago. “Harper? Harper Williams was assaulted?” Around him, the men and Kristen’s eyes flashed wide as they recognized the name as well, but Marco held up his hand to stop anyone from asking questions he didn’t have any answers to yet. “Fuck. Is she all right?”
“She got knocked on the head pretty bad. The paramedics are on their way with her to Largo Medical Center. She’s still unconscious. And DeAngelis…the main reason I’m calling is…her baby is missing.”
A roar equivalent to jet engine surged through his head, and a wave of shock and confusion struck him hard. “Baby? What fucking baby?”
CHAPTER 2
Thirteen Months Earlier
“Are you okay?”
God, he was getting fucking sick of that fucking question. No, he wasn’t fucking okay—he’d just buried his sister two hours ago—the only blood relative who’d ever been important to him. And now she was gone.
Marco regarded the well-meaning mourner, whose name he couldn’t remember. The guy was one of the teachers Nina had worked with, and while the entire PTA had supported her through the fourteen-month battle against inoperable brain cancer, Marco couldn’t remember who was who. “Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks for coming.”
Shaking the guy’s outstretched hand, he then stepped away before more redundant platitudes could be spoken. The day couldn’t go any slower if it tried. He knew wakes, funerals, and the after gatherings were for the living to remember the dead and to be there for the surviving family, but he was Nina’s only survivor—if he didn’t count Harper, that is. His sister’s best friend had been by her side, and his, throughout the entire ordeal—the woman had been a god-send.
His gaze scanned the dining area of Donovan’s Pub where the mourners had come to eat and drink a toast to his sister’s memory. Jake’s brother, Mike, had offered the place for the repast gathering, and between the two men, they’d told Marco the expenses were covered. While he had the finances to pay for it, he appreciated the offer, since it was one less thing he had to deal with. He also knew better than to argue with one of his teammates. Jake and the four other team members may not be his blood brothers, but they were brothers of his heart, and he would do anything for them—same as they would for him. Besides, any debts they racked up amongst each other were usually paid in full, and then some, at a future point in time. They’d all pretty much lost count over the years.
Sidling up to the bar, he stepped into an empty space between Brody and Devon. The former clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Another half hour and everyone will be done eating. We’ll start subtly moving people out the door. Then you can either get out of here or sit and get ass-faced drunk. Your decision, and we’ve got your six.”
Damn, he loved these guys. That was the thing about his team—they could read each other like an open book and didn’t ask what needed to be done…they just did it. He accepted the bottle of Dos Equis the bartender handed him and took a swig of the cold brew. “Thanks. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you guys these last few months.”
The two men waved off his gratitude—his thanks didn’t need to be verbalized. They knew it existed and that was enough for them. He turned when Jenn Mullins touched his arm.
“Uncle Marco, did you get enough to eat? I packed up some of the leftovers for you to take home in case you get hungry later and don’t want to cook. I packed one for Harper, too—I don’t think she really ate anything.”
He pulled the pretty, blonde twenty-year-old into his arms and gave her a hug. “Thanks, Baby-girl. You think of everything, don’t you? I’m good for now, but I’m sure I’ll be grateful for whatever you packed up when my stomach starts growling later.”
Jenn wasn’t blood-related to any of the original Trident six-man team, but she called all of them ‘uncle’ and they considered her to be their niece. After her parents had been murdered eight months ago, she’d come to live with her godfather, Ian, who’d been her father’s best friend since basic training. The surrogate uncles had all been on the same SEAL Team Four as Jeff Mullins and had watched his daughter grow from a tiny infant into a beautiful, young woman. Now, they made sure she was surrounded by people who loved her and would do their best to protect and take care of her. She was slowly overcoming her grief, with her bubbly personality resurfacing once again. When she wasn’t in class at the University of Tampa, she waitressed part-time here at the pub, but Mike Donovan had given her the day off to attend the funeral.
Jenn stepped away and another well-wisher took her place, shaking his hand and telling him how much Nina was going to be missed—yeah, he knew that more than anyone. His sister had been the one constant, shining star in his life. She’d been born to their flighty mother, thirty-two years ago, when Marco was two. At least, Teresa DeAngelis knew who her daughter’s father was, even though he’d been a deadbeat dad who’d left New York for parts unknown before the little girl was born. From what Marco knew, his own sperm donor hadn’t even taken his pants off and ended up giving the nineteen-year-old one-night-stand a false name and number—along with a baby on the way.
Since he was born, life had been a struggle for Marco, but he did everything he could to make sure his little sister was happy and felt loved, even though he was the only one providing it. As a young mother, Teresa was more interested in going out and having fun with her friends on Staten Island, NY, than taking care of two small children, who were more trouble and work than she’d expected. By the time Marco was four, she was heavily into drugs, and two days shy of his eighth birthday, she was dead of an accidental overdose. Marco had discovered her cold body on the kitchen floor of their run-down one-bedroom apartment when he woke up early that morning. Somehow Nina had slept through the chaos after the police and paramedics arrived, so she’d been spared the memory of their mother’s lifeless body lying on the cracked linoleum floor, with a needle sticking out of her arm.
From then on, they’d lived with their grandmother, but life with her wasn’t much better. Instead of drugs, Rose DeAngelis’ vices included alcohol, cigarettes, lottery tickets, and hoarding. Marco had tried to keep the place from getting too overwhelmed with junk, throwing things out when the woman wasn’t home, but sometimes it was a losing battle. When Nina and he had returned to New York several years ago, following the woman’s death, they’d ended up renting a huge dumpster just to get rid of everything. There had been very little of value among the piles of useless keepsakes.
Someone else put a hand on his shoulder and Marco pivoted to accept more condolences. He groaned inwardly when he saw who it was and, over Paula Leighton’s short head, he noticed Brody roll his eyes at the woman. Paula had been the secretary at Trident Security for a few months before she’d been caught in the business’ restricted access area called the war-room. The room was actually Brody’s office, filled
with computers which were used by the geek to gather intel, including classified information. Aside from the data Trident received legally from the U.S. government in reference to their mutual contracts, Brody was a world-class hacker, and Paula had made the mistake of snooping in his domain. Her curiosity had gotten her fired with a paltry severance check. Thankfully, she hadn’t been able to access anything she wasn’t supposed to see.
“Marco, I’m so sorry for your loss. If there is anything I can do…”
“Thanks, Paula, but I think everything has been covered.” He tried to step away, but her grip on his arm tightened.
“Have you been eating right? I could cook a few meals for you.”
Jeez. He knew the woman had a crush on him when she’d been at Trident—well, she’d actually had a crush on several of them—but he thought she would’ve been over it by now. Even if he’d been attracted to her, she wasn’t his type. She was a woman who wanted to settle down and have kids—neither of which he was inclined to do. “Ah, no, thanks. The freezer is full of meals from Nina’s PTA.” He spotted Harper across the room, waving for him to come join her with Nina’s school principal. Thank God. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to say good-bye to a few people.”
“Sure.”
He hadn’t missed the disappointment in her voice, but right now he couldn’t give a fuck. He was beyond exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and just wanted this day to be over.
A half hour later, his teammates followed through with their promise and began thanking everyone for coming, subtly indicating for them to get the fuck out. Soon, all that was left were the people he was closest to and he took a seat at the bar. Devon’s girlfriend/submissive, Kristen, sat next to him.
“I’m not going to ask if you’re okay because you’re probably sick of that question, but is there anything you need us to do back at the house?”
He sighed heavily. “Yesterday, hospice came to pick up the hospital bed and the rest of their stuff, so that’s done. Nina had given me a list of a few personal things which are supposed to go to certain people, but Harper said she’d take care of it. And most of her clothes and stuff have already gone to a local women’s shelter, at her request, so there’s really not much left of her at the house.”
He choked up on those last few words and Kristen silently put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a sideways hug in support. It was almost as if Nina had never existed, but she had. The sharp pain in his heart was a clear reminder of that. But he would never hear anyone call him ‘Marky Mark’ again—just like the singer turned actor. She’d called him that ever since they were little, and while it had been embarrassing at times, he’d loved her too much to complain.
The faint scent of a familiar perfume tickled his nose and he knew Harper was near. He didn’t know the name of the fragrant stuff, but she was the only woman he’d ever noticed wearing it. And it drove him crazy that his dick noticed it, too. But Harper wasn’t a woman he wanted to get involved with, either. She was beautiful —fucking gorgeous, if he was being honest. She was also sweet, funny, reliable, and everything else a man looked for in a life-mate. Well, every man but him. Marco needed someone who was just like him...someone who wanted a little fun with an end date. That was one of the reasons why he loved the BDSM lifestyle and its contracts. Just negotiate the terms of the relationship and agree on how temporary it would be—nothing to worry about. Harper wasn’t into the lifestyle, though. But damn, her natural submissiveness had him wishing she was.
Rotating the swivel bar stool, he came face to face with her. Dressed in a simple black sheath, that accentuated her hourglass figure and endless legs, she tucked a strand of pale blonde hair behind her ear. The piece hadn’t been long enough to stay tucked into the subdued bun she’d put her hair up in this morning. She stood five inches shorter than his six-foot-two when she wasn’t wearing heels. Today, her stilettoes gave her three more inches and brought them to almost eye level with each other. Her hazel eyes were filled with sadness and exhaustion as her gaze roamed his face before she pointed to his new beer bottle. “Got one of those for me?”
“Absolutely.” He stood and offered her his stool, then flagged down the bartender. “Another Dos Equis, Vince, when you get a chance, please. Thanks.”
Taking his vacated seat, with her back to the bar, Harper crossed her legs, and Marco held back a groan which almost escaped him. God, she had some of the nicest legs he’d ever seen on a woman. Tearing his eyes away before he had a natural reaction in his crotch, he glanced up at one of the bar’s TVs, which had been turned on as the funeral reception winded down. Damn, he needed to get laid…and soon. It was the only reason he could come up with of why he was attracted to a woman who had shown no interest in him, other than he was her best friend’s brother.
Harper and Nina had been roommates in college at the University of Virginia. His sister’s major had been Elementary Education, while Harper’s had been pre-law, before she’d stayed there after graduation and continued her studies for her law degree. Nina, in the meantime, had fallen in love with Harper’s hometown of Clearwater, Florida, from their spring, summer, and winter break visits. Following graduation, she received her state teaching license so she could move and teach there. A few years later, Harper also returned to Clearwater and joined a local law firm.
Marco had been so happy when Nina found a friend who would become the sister she never had. It had made his tours of duty overseas that much easier on him, knowing she had someone she could count on—especially if something had happened to him.
“Marco?”
Huh? He must have zoned out and missed whatever Harper had said. Mentally shaking his head, he focused his attention on her. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
She gave him a small smile. “I said, you look as tired as I feel. Do you mind leaving?”
Her car was at his house. Since the funeral home had given them use of their limo to the service and then the cemetery, they’d decided last night to drive there together this morning, leaving her car behind. Boomer had then made sure Marco’s truck made it to Donovan’s from the funeral home.
After swallowing the last of his beer, he placed the empty bottle on the bar. “Not at all. It’s been a long day…and you’re right, I am tired. Let me just go grab the food Jenn packed up for us and we’ll head home.”
CHAPTER 3
Present
Sitting in the passenger seat of Brody’s Ford F-150 as the geek raced them toward Clearwater, Marco tried to wrap his brain around what Murdock had told him. From the pictures in the house, the police estimated the baby girl was somewhere between four and six months old. The timeline given meant the child could be his, but they had used protection their one night together, hadn’t they? Shit! The memories flooded his mind. The first time had been fast, furious, and up against the wall. But as soon as he’d realized he hadn’t used a condom, he’d pulled out and Harper had reassured him she’d been on the pill for years. The kid couldn’t be his. So why was his gut filled with dread?
“Is it yours?”
It didn’t surprise him his best friend would be the first person to ask the question out loud. Marco ran his hand down his face in frustration. “Honestly, Brody, I have no fucking idea. It was only one night…the night of Nina’s funeral. The stress and…and grief just kinda hit us both and it happened. Is it possible? Technically, yeah, it’s possible. But Murdock wasn’t sure, yet, how old the kid is. Maybe it was someone she met after me. Maybe it was something she planned, like artificial insemination or something. Maybe she adopted the kid.” He was reaching for straws and they both knew it. “I don’t know, man. I mean, wouldn’t she have fucking told me if it was mine?”
“All right. First things first. We go find the kid and make sure Harper is okay. Then we can figure out if we need to send out engraved announcements and start a college fund.”
Marco groaned and threw his head back so it bounced off the cushioned headrest behind him. “Fuck! What
the fuck am I going to do if it’s mine? You know me. I never wanted to get married, and I sure as hell didn’t want any kids.”
Turning onto the street Murdock had given them, Brody pulled up behind one of the many patrol cars and crime scene vehicles, then shoved the gearshift into park. “One step at a time, brother. Let’s go find out what’s going on.”
The two men climbed out of the truck as Ian parked behind them and also got out with Devon and Boomer. None of them had changed, so aside from Brody, the rest of them were dressed in their club leathers, which drew some stares from police officers and bystanders alike. But Marco didn’t give a shit and walked straight up to one of the cops guarding the yellow-taped perimeter. “Officer Murdock called me. Can you tell him I’m here? Marco DeAngelis.”
The young cop’s wary eyes brightened in recognition. “Uh, yeah. Actually, it’s Detective Murdock now. He got promoted a few months ago.” The man lifted the yellow tape to allow them entry. “He told me to let you in, and anyone you came with, but the officer at the front door will call him outside for you. They’re still processing the scene.”
Striding up the long driveway, Marco took in his surroundings. The house was a split-level ranch in a nice neighborhood. The landscaping had been well taken care of, and from what he could see, it didn’t appear the property needed much work. The same went for the house. The siding looked new and the roof a few years older. A fence blocked his view of the backyard, but he was sure it was just as nice. Harper had found a pleasant home for her and her child—too bad it hadn’t been safe from whomever had broken in.
Stopping at the front porch, Marco waited impatiently for the detective to come out to meet them, after being summoned by the officer guarding the door. The rest of his team remained silent by his side, minus Brody, who had stayed back at his truck and was covertly filming the crowd of bystanders who’d been drawn to the large police presence. The team knew there was no way this many people lived on the quiet street, and it was possible whoever was behind this was watching the activity. Once the geek finished recording, he would join them at the impromptu briefing.
Watching From The Shadows: Trident Security Book 5 Page 2