by April Zyon
Frank was watching her from across the room. He’d been designated as her “spotter” on the off chance she might go down from all the excitement of the big day. He was to ensure she did not wrinkle, dirty, or damage her dress under order of Theresa Carver. The woman had laid down the law from moment one when they got underway for the final prep the day before. Then she’d barked out marching orders for her entire brood over breakfast early that morning. Since then, the woman had kept the bride and groom separated, and everyone else running around like rats through a maze.
“I’m good,” she told him with a grin. “I’m not about to fall apart on you, I promise. How much longer until we can get this party started? I’m ready to get my butt married off to your brother.”
“As soon as your dad is here, has had a stiff drink, and you go through a round of greetings. Josh and Travis are keeping an eye on Martin. From all reports, he’s a nervous wreck. Pacing endlessly around the room he’s in and damned jittery when he tries to sit down. Poor boy’s having a time in there. The fact that Mama kept the two of you separated for twenty-five hours, eighteen minutes, and counting is a feat in and of itself. I think that’s why he’s all worked up, personally. Pretty much the only Carver that’s been sequestered away from his bride before the big moment.”
“I know, it’s seriously killing me.” Since he’d come back into her life, she hadn’t been apart from Martin that long at all. “I can’t believe that she did that either. Actually, I can’t believe that she was able to keep Martin from coming in and climbing into bed with me last night.” She had actually thought that he might come during the cover of darkness, but he hadn’t, and she had missed sleeping in his arms.
“Yeah, well, that was all part of the Mama Carver plan. She was up and down a few times during the night, and even recruited the rest of us to keep watch over him, too. At last count around four in the morning, he’d tried no less than eight times to get over to you. All thwarted, and he wasn’t a happy camper. He must have given in around then because he was out cold during the rest of the checks until dawn.”
“I wasn’t a happy camper either,” she agreed. “I wonder if your mom drugged him or something.” It was the only way that he would have given in and not come in to get to her. “I missed sleeping with him last night. I mean, think about it, have you slept without Eli since the two of you got together?”
“Hell no,” Frank said. He shot her a look that pretty much called her crazy. “But she was also kidnapped by the former mayor’s goon squad to be sold overseas. Kind of gives me an excuse, even though I don’t need one, to ensure she’s safely wrapped in my arms each night. Mama didn’t drug him, though. I think we wore him down. Should warn you, Josh had him out helping him this morning to get through all the chores as quickly as they could, so he’s likely going to fall asleep early tonight. Sorry.”
She frowned. “Should we wait until later tonight or something?” She didn’t want to do this if it caused him trouble. “I don’t want him falling asleep on me during our wedding night when I will want to jump his handsome ass, often.”
He scrunched up his nose to make a face at her. “Ew! I do not need to hear about my little brother’s sex life, thank you very much. Let him get in a nap later, and you two should be fine for all-out action after Santa’s done his duty.”
A knock on the door sounded before Brant stuck his head in with a grin. Pushing the door open wider, he eyed her up and down. “Damn, doc, you clean up good,” he teased. “Got someone here you might want to see.” He stepped into the room, and that’s when she saw her dad coming through the doorway.
Athena didn’t say anything to Brant. She grinned and ran to her father, throwing herself into his arms and hugging him tightly. “Daddy.” She felt like a little girl again with her father there hugging her tightly. He was holding her in his strong arms, his physical strength not diminished, just his mental capabilities.
“You look breathtaking, Athena,” he said against her cheek. He squeezed her in closer before letting her loose to look her up and down. “So much like your mother on our wedding day.”
She smiled and nodded. “The gown is a blend of Mama’s wedding gown and Theresa’s wedding gown.” She gave him another hug. “I need to get married now. Are you ready to walk me down the aisle? Because I’m ready to marry him, now.”
“Absolutely,” he said, blinking at her. “Is it time already?”
“Yes, sir. We have one very impatient bride, plus one super impatient and nervous groom who haven’t seen each other in over twenty-four hours. It’s definitely time to get this show on the road.” Brant shot her a wink. “I’ll go let Mama know we’re ready for this rodeo to get underway. Sit tight until you hear the cue. Frank, better make sure that Martin knows it’s time to stop pacing and sweating through that suit he has on.”
“Right.” Frank passed her, giving her arm a small squeeze before heading out of the room. Brant followed him out, shutting the door behind them so she and her father had a moment alone.
“I’m happy, Daddy. Are you good with this? I’m going to marry the man that I love and get my happily ever after.” She was happier than words could possibly express.
“As long as you are happy, and he loves you in return, then I’m happy for you. I remember Martin from when you were in high school. As I recall, he had a car of some sort that had some myth attached to it, though it was never proven. Or maybe I have that wrong,” he muttered with a frown.
“Oh no, he had a car that everyone said that if he picked a girl up for a date in, that they would, well, you know.” She wrinkled her nose. “He assures me that it’s not true and he never picked any girl up in his car, and I believe him. Hopefully, he will bring the car out so that we can get some truth that to myth finally.”
“Don’t tell me about it if he does. A father doesn’t need to know about such things in regards to his one and only daughter. In my eyes, you will always be as you were when you were six. All eyes and curiosity, ready to take on the world. Of course, the time when you were ten and you planned to run away is also a keeper. You lacked a little in the planning of the trip, but you definitely had the supplies to make it for a couple of weeks had you figured out how to transport it all. Thankfully, your little red wagon threw that wheel.”
“I remember that. I think that was when Martin had kissed Martha Standish.” She had been so hurt and so frustrated by that, she felt in her ten years of wisdom, she needed to run away and never see him again. Not exactly smart, she knew. “I hear the music starting,” she said suddenly and squeezed her father’s arm. “I’m ready.” She was practically jumping out of her skin she was so ready. “Take me and get me married off, Daddy.”
“I can see you’ve grown all the more patient over the last few years,” he said. Rolling his eyes, he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it to the side. He straightened the tie he was wearing, smoothed his hair down, and held out his arm. “Try to remember you are a lady, my dear. We will not be jogging up the aisle, but strolling at a leisurely pace to draw this moment out as long as possible for your old man’s sake.”
“I will try.” She had to take a breath and remind herself to walk slowly, not run as he had said. She knew that she would run, always run, to get to Martin. “I love you, Daddy, thank you. For everything.” Then they began to walk toward Martin, her eyes once more focused on him and only him.
Martin looked up, and their gazes locked. Her dad’s words became a hum in her ears the closer she got to Martin. He smiled at her, and reached out a hand as they stopped at the small platform Theresa had put in for the special day. She heard her father give a sigh, then he kissed her on her cheek, and passed her off to Martin.
Only then did Martin break eye contact with her. Holding out a hand, he shook her father’s hand, and leaned in to say something to her dad that had the man laughing. Giving a nod, her dad wandered off to take a seat.
Looking up at Martin, she squeezed his hand. “I missed you last night,”
she confessed to him. “No more, right?” She didn’t want to ever sleep alone again, and was putting him on notice for just that reason.
“Never, ever again,” he muttered. He squeezed her hand in turn and let out a breath. “I really do not like my family at the moment. They are evil, sadistic creatures from some hellish domain. I may have to rethink all the awesome gifts I bought that were picked out by the wonderful women of this family.”
The minister cleared his throat and shot them both an amused look. “I thought you two were impatient to get this over with?” he asked under his breath.
“We are.” Athena turned back to the minister and grinned. “So please, go ahead?” She was ready to become the latest Mrs. Carver in the line, the latest woman caught in the Carver Vortex that they all talked about.
He gave them another look, and then settled back into place. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to finally get these two hitched. I’m unclear as to who actually had the winning month and year, but we’ll be figuring that out after the ceremony.”
Martin groaned at her side, and shot her an apologetic look. Thankfully, the minister got things back on track with a traditional ceremony, and soon enough, she was being introduced as Mrs. Martin Carver.
Epilogue
Four days earlier…
Making a face at his phone, Brant slipped it into his pocket after once more ensuring the ringer was off.
“What?”
“Mama wondering where the fuck we are.”
Frank shook his head. “She’s anxious about the wedding. Once it’s underway, she’ll relax, you know that.”
“Doesn’t mean she won’t drive us insane for being out here instead of there.”
“She knows why we’re here, Brant. She might want us to haul shit around for her six times before changing her mind and putting it back in the original position, but she gets why we have to be here doing this now.”
The here was outside of the small storefront that housed the woman shipping girls out of the western southern states to spots overseas to be sold as sexual slaves. The now was minutes before the woman only known as Cat was supposed to stop by to leave a package of encoded information for her contact. Cat was rarely at the location, but they’d gotten a bit of chatter since they’d narrowed down a lot of details on the woman. Including the fact that the business front they’d previously assumed was hers was nothing more than a death trap to sucker in law enforcement.
A team would deal with that and three other such locations after Cat was in custody. According to the mobster, Hans Krueger, who they’d captured during a joint FBI DEA sting involving their younger brother Martin, Cat liked to leave a trail to ensure the Feds and other law enforcement couldn’t ever trace her. Hans had been surprisingly cooperative, especially after his men had basically sold the old bastard out for lighter sentences. Hans had even been the one to give them her code name. No one knew her real name, but according to Hans, Cat had been operating out of the U.S. for decades. Which meant she was older than they’d realized. Or as Martin had pointed out, just another person to step into the Cat persona when others had either been killed or had gotten out.
They’d know soon enough, though. Once they had Cat in custody, they would ensure her entire network was torn apart. Any parties that had assisted in feeding her information, taking the girls, and transporting the girls, would be arrested. They just had to nail Cat hard and fast to ensure she couldn’t signal anyone.
The back door of the surveillance truck opened, and Martin climbed inside. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Glad you could make it,” Brant said. He eyed his brother up and down. The bruising was healing well, and the swelling was finally going down to the point where his face didn’t look like a blowfish any longer. “Tell me you told Mama you were coming out here? ‘Cause if she starts texting me again, I might have to have a fit.”
“She knows I’m out here with you guys. I had to explain that it’s a joint venture and the FBI had to be on scene. Since I’m the one that technically tasked you with this when the files were handed over, I’m the one responsible.”
“She still bent you weren’t out saving the whales?” Frank asked.
Martin rolled his eyes, and shot his brother the middle finger in answer. Mama had definitely been pissed off. But once she’d calmed down she’d been oddly, and scarily, understanding about the fact that Martin had needed to keep it all quiet. Which terrified every single one of the Carver children. They knew something was up. Mama was never accepting of a lie, no matter the reason behind it. Martin was constantly looking over his shoulder when he was at the ranch. He knew as well as anyone else in the family that it was only a matter of time before he felt the true wrath of Theresa Carver.
“Where are we at?” Martin asked while settling into an empty seat in the truck.
“According to Hans, Cat should be coming into the office at nine. Apparently, she comes in at the same time each week, makes a number of calls on an encrypted phone, and sends out encoded messages on the computer here. It’s pretty much the only consistent thing she ever does. Since it’s a secure location, it’s the only place she makes those calls. While she also has the cell phone, she tends to be more open when discussing things here, less smoke and mirrors.” Frank checked his watch and nodded. “She should be here in about six minutes if Hans wasn’t yanking our chain.”
Knowing they were as ready as they could be, they all settled into to wait the last few minutes. The teams were all set up around the building, DEA and FBI both on standby. They would only move on Brant’s signal. No matter what happened, unless Brant gave the word, they were not to reveal themselves. Since they didn’t really know what they were getting into, it had to be that way, especially with the human factor of unpredictability.
One minute to nine, a car pulled up to the curb outside the storefront. The driver, an older woman, climbed out with a briefcase in hand. She leaned back into the car to come up with a purse. As she shut the door, she looked around.
“Holy shit!” Frank said, staring at the monitors. “Are you guys seeing what I’m seeing?”
“It can’t be,” Martin muttered.
“It is.” Brant could not believe his eyes. Helen Campbell, love interest of Doctor Bernard Barnes of Massey, Texas, was their Cat. The woman was the sort who’d always had a kind word to say, cookies fresh out of the oven to share, and a med kit for all the scraped knees of the neighborhood kids. She volunteered at the shelters in various towns, helped put on the school plays by acting as the seamstress, and apparently, was the most vile human being on the planet.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
Brant understood Martin’s feelings. He was feeling pretty damn nauseous himself. The woman had helped him get over his first heartbreak at the age of six when a girl in his class had said no to going steady with him. Mrs. Campbell had sat him down in her kitchen with a plate of chocolate chunk cookies and a cup of hot chocolate as she talked to him. To find out she was selling women over to sexual deviants of the worst order to be used, or killed, at their whims was beyond sickening. He honestly didn’t have a word to describe what he felt in that moment.
“Brant, Brant.” Frank was shaking his arm. “We need to get moving,” he said. “She’ll be online soon if we don’t get to her first. We need to ensure she can’t warn anyone.”
Nodding, he radioed the FBI team. “Cut the power,” he said. Then, he followed Martin and Frank out of the surveillance truck. Swallowing down his distaste, he rubbed a hand to the hollow feeling in his chest before drawing his side arm. “We go in, in three, two, one. Breach!” he shouted as Frank hauled open the front door of the store. He went in with his gun up.
A DEA agent on their heels moved to cuff the receptionist. An FBI agent swept past to start clearing the hallway. His brothers followed on his heels until they all stood in the doorway of the main office.
Mrs. Campbell looked shocked to see them in their vests identifying who
they worked for, then a look of resignation slid over her face. A DEA agent pulled her up from her chair, cuffed her hands behind her, and read her her rights as he pushed her out into the hallway.
Wiping a hand over his face, Brant shook his head. “Shit,” he muttered. “Bag and tag everything. I want the computer on lockdown, full armed guard until we can get it to Quantico to be torn apart in a scrubbed room. Everything is evidence,” he ordered.
Frank was on the phone to the other teams to let them know to secure the traps. Still, other teams were at Cat’s various homes around the southern states. “They’re on the move,” Frank reported. “We should go to her house in Massey and go through it. I doubt she’d have anything there, but I think it should be us.”
Martin agreed, so did Brant after a moment. God damn it. Right under their fucking noses. Slamming the heel of his hand to a wall, he stormed out of the offices. He wanted some fucking answers, and one way or another, he was going to get them.
****
The next day they had their answers. All from a number of diaries Mrs. Campbell had written over several years. She’d literally been in the business for forty years. She’d inherited it from a woman who’d seen something in her when she’d been one of those kidnapped girls. A fire, or so the woman had claimed.
The woman had groomed Helen Campbell—then Helen Moore—to take over the business. She’d instructed her on how to keep a low profile, including creating a persona of a widowed woman. Hiding in plain sight was another of her tips. Find a place you can live in, develop friendships, and become that person. Never keep your business where your home is Though shopping there for the merchandise wasn’t recommended, it also wasn’t frowned on if she took care.
Helen had taken care. Unfortunately, the former Mayor Howe had started up his drug operation before expanding into his own trafficking ring, bringing way too much heat onto Massey. Helen had hired a few men to make a point with Howe that he needed to get the fuck out of Massey. Howe hadn’t taken the advice soon enough, and had gotten caught. Oddly enough, it was Helen that had helped there. She’d dropped a few tidbits of information into the right ears, who’d passed them along, and eventually, Megan had heard about them during her undercover op.