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The English Detective and the Rookie Agent

Page 12

by Pat White


  She went into his office and closed the door. She didn’t sit down. A second later Jeremy joined them.

  Trying to tamp down her anger, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

  “I knew partnering you with Barnes would have its challenges,” Max said. “I’m sorry if I made matters worse by ordering you to deceive him.”

  But I wasn’t deceiving him. I wanted to keep him safe because…I started to care about him.

  Oh, sure, if she said that out loud she’d lose her job for sure. And her self-respect.

  “To that end, let’s agree on no more deception.” He glanced at Jeremy. “I’m asking you to remain partners with Agent Ramos because I think your investigative styles complement each other. I also sense you’ve developed a rapport.” He glanced at Mercedes. “Am I right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  She was amazed at this man’s insight and even more amazed that she wasn’t being pushed out of Blackwell.

  “I don’t suppose I have any say in this?” Jeremy asked.

  She held her breath.

  “Please.” Max invited him to share his thoughts.

  Jeremy looked directly at her. “I think you’re a sharp agent with great potential.”

  She steeled herself against his next words.

  “I wish you,” he glanced at Max, “both of you would have been upfront about your concerns instead of working behind my back.”

  “We talked about that outside,” Max said.

  “Yes, and you explained some things that I didn’t understand before.”

  Mercedes was dying to know what things he referred to.

  Jeremy pinned her with his now warm blue eyes. “I’d like to give it another try but only if I have your promise that you have no ulterior motive other than to help find Lucas.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” she said.

  “I need you to promise complete honesty from this point on.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Brilliant,” Max said. “Get to it, then.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mercedes headed for the door and Jeremy opened it. This time she welcomed the gesture and nodded her thanks.

  Something had changed about him in the last half hour. Something big. It was as if a piece of protective armor had been peeled away from his chest. She suspected that giving up that kind of protection had to be terrifying for a man who thrived on control.

  They went outside. “Back to the police station?” she asked.

  “No, let’s find the boy’s car. He said the laptop was inside.”

  She noticed he didn’t call the teenager by name. They’d have to deal with that issue sooner than later—the possibility of Andrew being Jeremy’s son. Something didn’t add up.

  “Why not go back to the police station and confront him again?” she said.

  Why, indeed. Jeremy took a deep breath and admitted to himself that he didn’t want to see the boy, not so soon after the crushing accusation about Jeremy being his father.

  It wasn’t possible, yet a heavy sense of dread filled Jeremy’s chest. He didn’t like surprises and this turn of events was outrageously unpredictable.

  “We’ll give the boy some space and let the Feds do their bit to scare him,” Jeremy said. “By the time we return, he’ll be ready to tell us his life story.”

  “Hmm. Smart man.”

  “Glad you think so.”

  A few minutes of silence passed as they drove to the park. “I’m assuming his car is the little blue one that nearly ran me down.”

  “Someone should give him a lecture about his driving,” she said.

  “He was trying to hit me, remember?”

  What could Jeremy have possibly done to make the boy hate him so much? He wasn’t the boy’s father; it wasn’t possible. He’d been careful his whole adult life, careful and responsible.

  “Listen, I am sorry about spying on you,” she said.

  “You were following orders.”

  “Thanks for not getting me fired.”

  Which would have been terribly unprofessional and unlike Jeremy. But his emotions were scrambled. To think he’d nearly insisted they lose an excellent agent because Max had been concerned about Jeremy.

  She was excellent in many ways, including her ability to see past the evidence and take in the whole picture. Yes, she had great potential, this one.

  Too bad she didn’t have potential in other areas, as well. No, he’d never open his heart like that again, especially not with a woman who he knew wanted a family some day. He didn’t begrudge her that desire. He actually admired it.

  Family. He could tell Max and Cassie were headed in that direction. It might be tough to keep a family together in this line of work, but if two people loved each other enough, they could make it happen.

  They pulled into the lot by Meyer’s Creek. He spotted a blue compact car with a flag of Great Britain on the radio antenna.

  “That’s the plate number,” she said eyeing the car.

  She pulled over and they got out. “It’s an older model so I should be able to jimmy open the door,” she offered. “You’ll bail me out if I get arrested?”

  He shot her a half smile. She had a way of easing his tension in the worst of situations.

  Glancing through the windows, he noticed a pile of clothes, empty soft drink cans, a pillow and blanket. Good God, had the boy had been sleeping in his car?

  She got a long metal device from her car and slipped it inside the driver’s window. He spotted a couple walking toward them wearing concerned expressions.

  “My wife locked the keys in the car again,” he explained. The couple nodded their sympathy and walked past.

  “Your wife?” She raised an eyebrow and jerked on the metal device. The door unlocked.

  He went to the passenger side and opened the door. The car wasn’t dirty, exactly, just messy.

  “Here.” She tossed him a pair of latex gloves.

  He put them on and sorted through folders, magazines and old newspapers.

  “Got it!” Mercedes said.

  She slipped a laptop out from underneath the front seat.

  He opened the glove box and found the car’s registration, which read Andrew Brown. “He may be using an alias, or many aliases.” He pulled out a pouch and opened it, fearing he’d find drugs.

  Why do you care what he’s into?

  Instead, he found various photographs of Andrew, a razor blade and a handful of driver’s licenses—not his.

  “He’s been making fake IDs,” He glanced at Mercedes. “Why? He’s into something illegal?”

  “Maybe we’ll find answers on the laptop. Let’s go.”

  Jeremy closed the glove box and glanced once more around the car. He noticed something sticking out from of the visor and flipped it down. A few slips of paper and credit cards drifted to the seat. He turned over a credit card. It read Nancy Burke.

  Nancy. Coincidence?

  Mercedes plucked a photograph from the pile of items. “Wow, cute picture.”

  She handed it to him and his breath caught at the sight of Nancy, the love of his life, holding a small child in her arms.

  It couldn’t be. His hand trembled.

  “You know her?” Mercedes said.

  “Yes.”

  “Who is she?”

  He ignored her question and pulled out his mobile. He punched in Eddie’s number.

  “Malone,” he answered.

  “It’s Barnes. Run a search on a credit card number for me, will you?”

  “Sure, shoot.”

  Jeremy read him off the number.

  “Whatcha lookin’ for?” Eddie asked.

  “Home phone number.”

  “Give me a minute.”

  Jeremy closed the door and leaned against the car. Get ahold of yourself. This isn’t possible. It’s just a way for your enemy to rattle your brain, throw you off guard.

  He struggled to think of whom he’d wronged so deeply that they’d rip open his pas
t and torture him with it.

  “Okay, Robert and Nancy Burke,” Eddie said. “I’ve got a number in England.”

  “Continue.” He pulled out his notebook and jotted down the number. “Thanks.”

  “What’s going on?” Mercedes said.

  “Hopefully, just another one of Mr. Burke’s games.”

  He punched in the number, realizing it was the middle of the night back home. He couldn’t wait.

  It rang four times.

  “Hello?” a man answered.

  “Nancy Burke, please. I’m calling from the United States. It’s an emergency.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Jeremy Barnes.”

  “Jeremy, who?”

  There was a rustling sound, then, “Jeremy?” a woman said. “Oh, my God, he found you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “He found me? You mean—”

  “He’s your son, Jeremy.”

  “Good God, Nancy, what have you done?” he said.

  “Now, wait a minute, it takes two people to create a child.”

  “A child I knew nothing about until I met him in a jail cell this afternoon.”

  “He’s in jail?” she shrieked. “Oh, my God, what happened?”

  “He’s been brought in for questioning.” He paced toward the creek and back to the car.

  “For what? He couldn’t have done anything wrong.”

  “You don’t know that, Nancy.”

  “I know he’s a good boy. He’s smart and responsible and he’d never break the law.”

  “Nancy, hold on—start at the beginning. He’s my son?”

  He nodded to Mercedes and they got into the car. The Weddle case was still the priority, no matter what personal crisis he was dealing with.

  “Yes, Andrew is your son. He didn’t know that until about six months ago. He got into a huge argument with his father and Robert let it slip.”

  “His father, you mean his stepfather?”

  “Robert has been Andrew’s father since he was a baby.”

  “Yes, but I’m the boy’s biological father,” Jeremy confirmed.

  “You are.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I was afraid you’d demand we get married and let’s face it, Jeremy, we weren’t marriage material.”

  Pain sliced through his chest. “Why?”

  “Does it matter after nearly twenty years?”

  “It matters when you tell me I have a son, a boy who’s gone to great lengths to find me.”

  “I told him it was a bad idea, that you didn’t want anything to do with him.”

  “How could you say that?”

  “I didn’t want him to be hurt,” she said.

  “You mean you didn’t want him to know you’d lied to him all these years.”

  “I’d do anything to protect my son.”

  “From me?”

  “From everything. We have a great life. Robert is an excellent father and loves Andrew like his own. There was no need for him to know the truth.”

  “Nancy, listen to yourself.”

  “I did it for you, Jeremy, and for Andrew.”

  “Bollocks! You did it because you didn’t want your son finding out his precious mummy slept with a man five years younger and broke his heart by disappearing on him.”

  Blast, did he really just say that? He couldn’t help himself. He was bloody furious.

  They pulled up to the Command Center. Mercedes motioned that she was taking the laptop inside.

  “Nancy?” he said.

  Silence. God, she couldn’t have hung up. There was so much to say, so many unanswered questions.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know I broke your heart. I thought it was silly fun for you, too.”

  Jeremy’s one experience with what he thought was true love.

  And the woman referred to it as silly fun.

  Taking a deep breath, he said in a tired voice, “It was a long time ago, Nancy. You and I are different people now.”

  “How does Andrew look?” she asked.

  “He looks…like you.” He suddenly realized why the boy seemed so familiar.

  “Except for his eyes. He has your radiant eyes,” she whispered.

  “He looks fine. He’s being questioned about the kidnapping of a little boy,” he said, redirecting them to the present.

  “What? That’s impossible. He would never do such a thing.”

  “He also assaulted me. Tried to run me down with his car and attacked me on the beach.”

  “Oh, Jeremy. I am sorry. He’s been so angry since he became a teenager. Ever since he turned sixteen he and Robert have been fighting. Andrew is so smart and Robert wants him to study medicine or law. But you know teenagers. Andrew has his own ideas.”

  Jeremy wasn’t sure he could take any more.

  “What ideas?” he said.

  “He wants to become a Metro policeman, of all things. He was going to apply on his eighteenth birthday.”

  “He’s not eighteen yet?”

  “No, he’ll turn eighteen on May twenty-second.”

  Which explained the need for false identification.

  A Metro officer, what were the chances?

  “Robert argued that he should go to university and get a college education. Anyway, Andrew emptied his savings account and left two months ago. He wrote me a note, saying he’d be fine and that he was off to prove something important.”

  “And you haven’t heard from him since?”

  “A phone message every other week letting me know he’s okay. I’d hoped he meant to travel Europe, go exploring, maybe find himself. But I was afraid he might try to find you. I don’t know how he did it.”

  “But why did he attack me?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe…”

  “What?”

  “We told him you didn’t want anything to do with his life. I suppose he resents you because you didn’t want him.”

  “Which is a lie.”

  “How do you know what you would have done back then? You were a brilliant boy starting college. You’re so sure you would have sacrificed your future to marry me because of a mistake?”

  A mistake. Just like Jeremy. God, no.

  “No child is a mistake,” he said.

  Mercedes tapped on his window.

  “I have to go, Nancy.”

  “I’ll fly over tomorrow. What city?”

  “No, I’ll handle it. We’ll settle this case and I’ll send him home.”

  “Jeremy.” She paused. “Take care of him. He’s a good boy.”

  He hit the end button and opened his door.

  “I’m sorry,” Mercedes said.

  He glanced into her wide brown eyes, brimming with compassion.

  “Why are you sorry?”

  “It sounds like a mess.”

  “I’ll deal with that later.”

  They started up the sidewalk to the Command Center. Max greeted them at the door.

  “Go back to the police station and get the boy,” he ordered. “I don’t care how, just get him out and bring him here. His files are encrypted. It will take Eddie hours, possibly days to get into them.”

  “But how will we get him out?” Mercedes asked.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Jeremy said.

  They drove back to the police station in silence, Jeremy not knowing how much of his shame he wanted to share with Mercedes. He had a son, a son who hated him because he’d been abandoned.

  He couldn’t blame him. Although Jeremy held Nancy responsible for this disaster, he understood her reasoning. Back then, Jeremy was interested in one thing—studying law to please his father. He was completely devoted to his goal until he’d met Nancy and had fallen in love.

  He hadn’t a clue it was only silly fun for her. A great inspector he’d turned out to be.

  “He’s really your kid, huh?” Mercedes pulled into the parking lot.

  “Yes,” he admitted.

&
nbsp; “And you had no idea?”

  “None.”

  They got out of the car and walked around to the front of the building.

  “What a nasty woman,” she said.

  “Who, Nancy? I don’t know. I would have made a horrible father.”

  “Says who? The older woman who let you get her pregnant? She should have known better.” She squared off at him. “Don’t give me that horrible father line. I’ve seen you with children. You’re great.”

  “I was doing my job.”

  “They don’t teach that at any academy I know. You’re a natural.” She opened the door to the station and hesitated. “It’s a good thing because dealing with teenagers can be ugly. Have you got a plan?”

  “He’s only seventeen. I’m going to ask that he be released into his father’s custody, my custody.”

  As they went into the quiet station, Jeremy wished he had half her confidence in his ability to be a parent. To think he’d missed it all—the boy’s football games, his first attempt at riding a bike. It should have been Jeremy steadying him from behind, at least that’s what he thought fathers did. Jeremy’s own father had been too involved in making his next million pounds to be bothered with his son.

  No child is a mistake.

  Jeremy’s own words haunted him. He’d been a mistake and he’d spent his entire life trying to prove himself worthy by putting away criminals and making the world a safer place.

  The door to the lower level was locked. Mercedes knocked and an agent opened it. “Yes?”

  “We’re here to see Andrew Burke,” Jeremy said.

  “He’s being interrogated.”

  “I want him released,” Jeremy said. “Immediately.”

  “I don’t care what you want.” The agent started to shut the door but Jeremy shouldered it open. “He’s a minor and I’m his father.”

  The agent pushed open the door and led them downstairs. The sounds of the interrogation filtered down the hall.

  “Who took the money?” a man shouted.

  “I don’t know,” Andrew said.

  Andrew’s voice had lost the earlier arrogance he’d used with Jeremy.

  “Don’t lie to us,” the agent said. “We know you have information about the Weddle case. Start talking.”

  Silence.

  A loud bang echoed off the walls. Jeremy pushed the agent aside and went to the cell. Andrew was pressed up against the wall, a defiant look on his face.

 

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