The English Detective and the Rookie Agent

by Pat White

  She had to let go of her paranoia if she wanted to make this work.

  They continued toward the lodge. “What do we know about the parents?”

  “They’re transplants from Seattle. They moved to Mountain View about a year ago. They were looking for a slower pace, a better life.”

  “And they lose a son.”

  She studied his long, narrow features, trying to figure out if she had heard remorse in his voice. She wondered if he was capable of expressing any kind of emotion then remembered his temper flaring this morning in his hotel room. He seemed the controlled type, the kind of man who would rather eat prunes than admit he had feelings, much less express them.

  He’d been a hungover wreck when she’d found him. Then after his magical cup of tea, his entire demeanor had changed. She didn’t know what to expect next. And she didn’t like that feeling. It reminded her of walking on eggshells growing up, never knowing what kind of mood she’d have to deal with when Papi came home from work.

  “What room number?” he asked.

  She consulted her notebook. “Four twelve.”

  He held open the front door to Eagle Lodge.

  “No, please.” She motioned for him to enter first. She did not need a man taking care of her.

  “As you wish.” He entered and went to the elevator acting as if he could care less if she followed or not.

  “You ever work with a partner before?” he said as they rode the elevator.

  “Of course.”

  “What was the longest you stayed with one partner?”

  “Two years, six months, fifteen days.” And a broken heart.

  Was that a smile curling the corner of his lips? Who could tell?

  “And you?” she challenged.

  “About three years.”

  The elevator doors opened and they both stepped inside, bumping arms.

  “I’m sorry, I assumed you’d want to lead,” he said in a wry tone.

  A police officer stood outside the Weddles’ room.

  “I’m Jeremy Barnes, private investigator. This is my partner, Mercedes Ramos. We’ve been hired by the Weddle family to investigate their son’s disappearance.”

  “The mother’s inside. The father is at the beach with the task force,” the officer said, eyeing Mercedes with obvious appreciation.

  “Thank-you.” Barnes knocked on the door and narrowed his eyes at the officer.

  The man backed up an inch and cleared his throat. Mercedes looked from her partner to the local cop. What was this about? Barnes was acting as her protector? Not again.

  The hotel room door opened. “Yes?” an elderly woman said.

  “I’m Jeremy Barnes with the Blackwell Group. The Weddles hired us to find Lucas.”

  “Of course, come in.”

  She led them into a living area. “Wait here, I’ll get my daughter.”

  Mercedes walked to the window and watched a team of investigators swarm the beach outside.

  “I’ll make introductions, you conduct the interview,” Barnes said.

  “You sure you trust me? After all, I’m your trainee.” She struggled to keep the sarcasm from her voice. What was the deal here? Why did this particular man get under skin?

  Because he was arrogant. Because he thought he was better than Mercedes.

  “She will respond better to a compassionate woman than a questioning man,” he said.

  That took her by surprise, especially since he’d accused her of having the compassion of a serial killer earlier.

  She studied this restrained man, his expressionless face and aristocratic profile. Was he thinking of the mother’s tender emotions or the best way to solve the case?

  She couldn’t be sure. She thought she’d heard something resembling compassion in his deep, rich voice. Although his accent was strong, it was also very smooth and crisp, unlike Agent Finn’s, which sounded choppy and hard.

  The bedroom door opened and a short petite woman walked out, a cell phone to her ear.

  “They just got here,” she said. “Okay, I’ll tell them.” She turned off the phone. “Hi, I’m Susanna Weddle.” She shook hands with Mercedes first, then Jeremy. “That was my husband. He says to join him on the beach when we’re done.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mercedes said. “Are you up to a few questions?”

  “Sure.”

  Mercedes noticed how the sofa practically swallowed the small woman as she sat down.

  “Has your son been upset recently?” Mercedes started.

  The woman grabbed a tissue.

  Barnes shot Mercedes an odd look. What? He said to question her. Wait, right, he’d used the term compassionate woman.

  “Why don’t you tell us a little about Lucas.” Mercedes tried again.

  Mrs. Weddle cleared her throat. “He’s bright, a bit shy, but trusting. He loves playing computer games.”

  “Does he play online?” Barnes interjected.

  “Sometimes. But we monitor his activity very carefully.”

  “Does he like school?” Mercedes asked.

  “He’s homeschooled.”

  “But he went missing on a school trip?”

  “He’s taught at home, but he still goes on field trips through the school and participates in clubs.”

  “What sort of clubs?” Mercedes said.

  “Science club, chess club, hiking club.”

  Mercedes jotted notes. Barnes crossed his arms over his chest and studied the woman.

  “And your decision to homeschool him?” Mercedes continued.

  “He’s a smart boy. The public schools weren’t challenging enough.”

  “Who were some of his friends?”

  “His two close friends are Brad Reynolds and Shayne Lynk. We’ve been friends with the Lynks for years.”

  “We’ll need their phone numbers.”

  “The Lynks are here in the lodge. They’ve been so supportive.”

  Mercedes smiled, then said, “Back to Lucas, was he looking forward to this field trip?”

  “Very. He’s never seen starfish before, or those little crabs that live along the beach. He wanted to study marine biology. Wants to study…” She blinked back a tear and Mercedes’s heart ached for her.

  She eyed Barnes. His expression hadn’t changed.

  Mrs. Weddle leveled a gaze at Mercedes. “He’s a good swimmer.”

  Mercedes studied her notebook to avoid the woman’s pain. “And you didn’t notice any change in his behavior recently? Moodiness? Anything like that?”

  “Don’t.”

  Mercedes glanced up. “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t act like the police. I’m sick of their questions and insinuations.”

  “Insinuations?” Barnes repeated.

  “They think it’s our fault that he’s gone.”

  It made sense she’d get that impression. Family usually topped the suspect list in criminal cases.

  “I’m sure even routine questions can sound offensive at a time like this,” Mercedes said.

  “Excuse me.” Barnes paced to the sliding glass doors overlooking the beach and answered his cell phone.

  “Do you think it’s my fault?”

  Mercedes snapped her attention to the woman, whose eyes misted over with tears.

  “You could not have known that this would happen,” Mercedes said.

  “Are you a mother, Miss Ramos?”

  “No.” Her heart ached. She’d been so busy with her career she hadn’t had time to think about a family of her own.

  Mrs. Weddle stared blankly at the coffee table. Mercedes wanted to comfort her, but didn’t know how. Her goal in life had been to prove herself in a man’s world. She wasn’t sure she had a nurturing side although Mami said it would come when she had children. That wasn’t happening any time soon. Not until she found a man who could respect her as an equal.

  “Mrs. Weddle.” Barnes stepped toward them. “They’ve found something.”

  Chapter Three

  Jeremy
and Mercedes accompanied Mrs. Weddle to the beach. As they stepped onto the cool sand, Jeremy spotted her husband in the distance speaking with a Coast Guard officer.

  “Oh, God,” Mrs. Weddle said, hesitating.

  It was then he noticed that a second officer was holding a clear plastic bag with a red-and-blue backpack inside.

  “Lucas!” she cried, racing toward her husband.

  Her husband caught her as her legs gave out. She sobbed against his chest.

  Jeremy gently touched Mercedes’s shoulder. “Let’s give them a moment.” She glanced at his hand and he thought she might give him a lecture on sexual harassment.

  But he hadn’t touched her that way.

  He could see how any warm-blooded man would be tempted to cross that line. Although she was dressed conservatively in black trousers, a gray blouse and black jacket, it was obvious she hid a shapely figure beneath the loose cut of her suit.

  He wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. First Bobby had flirted with her, then the cop guarding the Weddle’s hotel room had practically accosted her in the hallway. She was beautiful, to be sure, but was she a sharp investigator?

  He didn’t care about her model-type looks or wary expression. For a tough girl she was easy to read, at least for Jeremy. He read pain, disappointment and a fighting spirit in her eyes. The spirit intrigued him.

  No, he needed to focus on training her so she could partner with someone else. Who knows, maybe Bobby would get lucky and draw her number.

  Jeremy chuckled inside at the image of Bobby being paired with Mercedes. She was a lot more complicated than the typical females Bobby attracted.

  Beautiful and complicated. Jeremy had done beautiful and complicated once. He ended up with a broken heart and a cynical nature. It was the only time he’d considered himself a fool. Never again.

  Doug Weddle motioned for Jeremy to join him. “Mister?”

  “Agent Barnes, and this is Agent Ramos.”

  “So, you’ve got something?” he said, expectant.

  “The team’s in the process of setting up, sir. We’ll need to familiarize ourselves with the case before we can draw any conclusions.”

  “And when will that be? Next week?”

  Jeremy held steady, not allowing himself to be drawn into this man’s emotional tornado. He obviously loved his son very much. An ache started low in Jeremy’s gut.

  “We’re running out of time here and you’re doing nothing,” Mr. Weddle accused.

  Mercedes planted her hands to her hips. “That’s not entirely true, sir.”

  “Was it your son’s backpack?” Jeremy interrupted. He’d have to speak with her about keeping her feelings to herself and not getting offended by a father’s natural reaction to a lost child.

  Mr. Weddle watched the Coast Guard officers walk toward a Jeep with the bag. “Yes, it’s Lucas’s.”

  “He never would have left it,” Mrs. Weddle said. “He keeps his notebook in there, the one with all his experiments.”

  “What kind of experiments?” Jeremy pushed.

  “Science experiments,” the father said, one arm around his wife, while running the other hand through thick brown hair. “Burning leaves by using a magnifying glass, growing plants indoors using fluorescent lights—stuff like that.”

  “Where did they find the backpack?” Jeremy asked.

  “About a half mile out. The dive team found it.”

  “Was anything missing?”

  “We’re not sure. They want us to come down to their office to open it.”

  “My mobile number.” Jeremy handed him a card. “We’ll be in the lodge interviewing the Lynks. Meet us there when you’re finished.”

  “Sure, okay.”

  Jeremy nodded and started toward the shoreline. He’d spotted Max and Cassie in the distance and was anxious to get Max’s take on this case. It didn’t seem like an accidental drowning. The dive team should have found the body by now.

  Thank goodness they hadn’t. The thought of another lost boy tore at his heart.

  “Weddle’s got high expectations. We’ve only been on this case a day,” Mercedes said.

  “How did you expect him to respond? His child’s gone missing, everyone around him assumes the boy’s dead and he can’t do anything about it.” He glanced at her. “This isn’t about us not doing our job. It’s about a father having his heart ripped out. Shelve the ego, Agent Barnes.”

  “Whoa, this seems awfully personal to you all of the sudden.”

  It was. It was about a lost boy. Like Phillip.

  This case was getting to him. Or, was it this female?

  “We may be partners, but you take direction from me,” he said. “Focus on the boy or on the mother who’s lost her child. Not on the grieving father’s critical comments. Are we clear?”

  Her eyes blazed fire and her cheeks reddened. She nodded, probably unable to speak unless to utter a curse word.

  Too bad. She had a beautiful voice, her words flavored by her accent. Beautiful woman, beautiful voice and self-absorbed. But it said nothing about her potential as an investigator.

  It had been years since he’d thought about a woman as anything but a work associate. Sure, there had been a roll in the hay here and there, but nothing that resembled a relationship.

  Not that he’d recognize one of those. After his father had left, Mum rarely interacted with Jeremy except to criticize. That’s when he’d learned to control his emotions, keep them strapped down tight. She did her worst when he opened himself up to her by sharing his feelings and fears.

  Stop your crying, you puffer. Be a man.

  The only attention he got from his father was when Jeremy agreed to pursue a career in law. Father and son time was spent at the club, his father impressing his friends with Jeremy’s grade point average.

  Jeremy realized he’d probably been a mistake. He accepted that fact, stopped trying to please them and followed his heart—he wanted to be a police inspector.

  They’d disowned him, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t miss what he’d never had.

  Although Templeton and blokes like him thought Jeremy hoity-toity, he’d worked his way through university after his father had cut him off. He wasn’t the spoiled prince they made him out to be. But he let them think what they liked. It taught him a valuable lesson—people were not what they appeared to be.

  They approached Max and Cassie. Cute girl, she was exactly what she appeared to be—lively, open and caring. Max was a lucky bastard. She’d seen him at his worst, yet still wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

  Jeremy didn’t fool himself into thinking he’d be so lucky.

  “What did they find?” Max inquired, squinting against the midday sunshine.

  “The boy’s backpack,” Jeremy said. “The divers found it about a mile from shore.”

  Max glanced toward the ocean.

  “That supports the drowning theory,” Jeremy said.

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  Jeremy heard the doubt in his voice. “Something’s bothering you, guv?”

  “Not sure yet.” He glanced at Jeremy. “How did the interviews go?”

  “We only spoke with the mother,” Mercedes offered. “We were interrupted by the backpack development.”

  “Did you get names of friends and schoolmates?”

  “The boy was homeschooled, but we have names and phones numbers of two family friends,” Barnes said.

  “Good. Walk with us.” Max motioned for Jeremy to keep pace beside him.

  Mercedes was a little uncomfortable beside the blond woman, but wasn’t sure why.

  “I’m Cassie Clarke. I meant to welcome you earlier.”

  Mercedes shook her hand. “Thanks. What department are you from?”

  “Department? Oh, you mean police. No, I’m Mr. Templeton’s assistant. If you have any questions or need anything, feel free to ask,” Cassie said.

  “Thanks.”

  The woman acted like she enjoyed the
role of Max’s assistant and she seemed genuinely kind. Mercedes wasn’t sure how to handle that since she was used to being on the defensive.

  “What made you decide to come on board?” Cassie asked.

  “I was on leave from the FBI and was bored out of my mind. I heard about Blackwell from an agent named Curtis Sykes.”

  Curtis, a forensic psychologist, had been her mentor and had never tried to hit on her. She glanced at the back of her new partner. She wouldn’t have to worry about Cold Barnes hitting on her, that’s for sure.

  “I heard Agent Sykes is going to consult from Michigan,” Cassie said.

  “Seems cut-and-dried to me. They found his backpack in the ocean. The boy drowned.”

  “Oh, no,” Cassie said, touching Mercedes’s arm. “We’ve got to be positive.”

  The woman’s lack of law enforcement experience was apparent. She’d probably been sheltered her whole life and had never seen the ugliness of violent crime.

  “This is where he was last seen.” Templeton pointed toward a large rock that protruded out from the ocean. It must have been two hundred feet high.

  “The teachers were having the students look for starfish and puffins,” Templeton added. “Since it was an afternoon visit, the tide was too high to allow students access to the rock. In the morning you can walk straight out and touch it, although they discourage such proximity to protect the wildlife. Right, well, the police theory is that the boy, being fascinated with science and nature, broke away from the group and waded into the water, lost his footing and went under.”

  “The mother said he’s a good swimmer,” Mercedes offered.

  “But the backpack could have weighed him down,” Barnes countered.

  “Then the tide swept him out to sea? Something doesn’t tally.” Templeton scanned the horizon.

  “What are you thinking, guv?” Barnes said.

  “The local police and Coast Guard are working on the theory that the boy drowned. Let’s focus on the possibility that he’s alive.”

  “You mean he ran away?” Barnes asked.

  “That’s one option.” Templeton eyed the large rock protruding from the ocean. “Find out how things were with his parents recently. Boys can be a handful.”

  “But his mother said he was a good boy, he’s into science and computer games, not the kind of kid that would run away,” Mercedes added.