by Pat White
“What’s going on?” Jeremy asked.
“Good, old-fashioned interrogation,” Agent Timmons said, staring down Andrew.
“Is this boy charged with a crime?”
“Sure.” Timmons glanced at Jeremy. “We’ll start by charging him with your assault.”
Andrew hadn’t moved from his position against the wall.
“I didn’t see the man’s face that attacked me,” Jeremy said. “I don’t know that it was Andrew.”
“He admitted it earlier.”
“I’m not pressing charges,” Jeremy added.
“What the hell?” Timmons let himself out of the cell and motioned for Jeremy to follow him into the stairwell. “Why the about-face on this kid? He was seen leaving the wine shop and he had information about the Weddles in the backpack we found. He’s obviously linked to this case.”
“He is. It turns out he is, in fact, my son.”
Jeremy’s voice hadn’t changed pitch or volume when he admitted the truth, yet Mercedes noticed a flicker of emotion in his eyes.
“Your son?” Timmons said in disbelief.
“I just found out myself,” Jeremy explained. “I had an affair eighteen years ago and apparently it produced that young man in there. His mother didn’t think it necessary to inform me.”
“Hell, that’s rough. But why did he attack you on the beach?”
“He’s angry. He thinks I didn’t want him. He probably blames me for his whole life coming apart. That’s why he’s been hovering around the Weddle case. That’s why he was at the wine shop today—so he could find me.”
“To kill you?” Agent Timmons said.
“No, I believe he’s after something else, a closure of sorts. I can’t be sure until I speak with him alone.”
“Feel free,” Timmons said with a hand motion.
“Not here. He needs to feel safe, not threatened.” He stared down the agent. “Do you have anything directly linking him to Lucas Weddle?”
“Other than the newspaper headlines we found in his backpack? No, and now you’re telling me that was about you, not the boy.”
“Timmons!” another FBI agent called from the top of the stairs. “The Weddles got an e-mail from someone who claims the boy is okay.”
“Hell.” Timmons went to the cell and unlocked the door. “Ya know kid, I don’t like you,” he said to Andrew. “I don’t like your attitude or the way you treat your father.” He glanced at Jeremy. “But I don’t have enough on you. Go.” Andrew got up and shuffled to the door.
Timmons grabbed him by the arm as he passed. “I’d prefer you stick close to your father so you don’t mess up our investigation again, got it?”
“Yes, sir,” he said.
Mercedes noticed his eyes were not apologetic, but just the opposite. They were defiant. This was going to be an interesting ride back to the office.
They filed out to the car, Jeremy leading the way. She could imagine what he must be feeling. She sensed frustration and shame. Why? This wasn’t his fault.
They got in the car. “I spoke with your mother,” Jeremy said.
“Did ya catch up on the last seventeen years? Or apologize for running off?”
Mercedes glanced at Jeremy. He didn’t answer. Why didn’t he tell the boy the truth?
“No matter,” Andrew said, glancing out his window. “It’s not like she’d forgive ya anyway.”
Mercedes suspected he was referring to himself, the abandoned son, never forgiving his father.
“We’re taking you back to the Command Center. We have your laptop and our computer expert needs your help with your encryption codes.”
“You broke into my car? You’re not just a delinquent father, but a thief, as well. I’d offered to help with the case. You didn’t have to break the law.”
They pulled up to the Command Center and headed for the front door.
Mercedes felt she needed to defend Jeremy’s honor. “Actually, I broke into your car.”
“No kidding?” Andrew said. “You two got something going here? Or is it my father needing a piece of ass, like he did with my mum?”
Jeremy grabbed the kid by the shoulders and slammed him against the front door. “Don’t talk to her like that. You treat women with respect, you hear me?”
“What, like you did? You took off when Nancy got pregnant. Is that what you call respect?”
Jeremy shoved the boy out of the way and went inside. Andrew started after him, but Mercedes blocked him. “No way. You stay out here with me and cool down before you go in.”
“You’re not my mother.”
“Lucky for you. If I were your mother, I’d stick a bar of soap in that snotty little mouth of yours.”
“Why, for telling the truth?”
“Young man, you have no idea what the truth is.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“No? Let’s see, you find out Jeremy is your father and you decide to stalk him, not find him and ask why he wasn’t around during your childhood. You’re determined to become a better investigator than your father and get involved in the Weddle case but you don’t find the boy, you only complicate the investigation.”
“I’m good at investigating. I’ll show you, on my computer.”
“You’re good? You’re really good?” she challenged.
He nodded and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.
“If you were that good, you would have developed a profile about Jeremy Barnes.”
“I did that.”
“Yeah? Did you bother to read it? If you had one ounce of brains you’d realize that Jeremy Barnes is not only an intelligent, consummate investigator, but he’s also an honorable man. He has integrity and drive and puts his life in danger to save people. If you were a good investigator, you would ask yourself, ‘Would a man like this abandon his child?’ But you don’t ask yourself this question because you’re nothing but a punk with a chip on his shoulder. Time to grow up and think about someone other than yourself. Lucas Weddle is still missing. Do you want to help us?”
“Yes.” He glared at her.
“Keep an open mind and maybe you’ll learn something.” She turned to find Jeremy standing in the doorway. He’d heard her entire rant.
“We’re coming,” she said, trying to keep the irritation from her voice.
She was irritated with Andrew, with this case and mostly with herself for losing it and giving him a lecture that should have come from his father.
But his father was numb. Jeremy opened the door and they went inside.
“So this is young Andrew?” Max said, walking up to the boy. “Good to meet you. I’m Max Templeton.”
They shook hands. Max hesitated for a moment, then smiled, breaking the grip.
“This is Joe Spinelli, Bobby Finn and Eddie Malone.” They all shook hands. “Oh, and this is Cassie.”
Andrew caught his father’s eye as if remembering Jeremy’s comment about treating women with respect. Andrew shook hands with Cassie. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” She smiled at him.
Good thing they had the Blackwell team to ground the wild energy that had been flying around outside. Even the tension in Mercedes’s shoulders seemed to ease a bit.
“You’ll be working with Eddie,” Max said. “He needs help getting into your files.”
Eddie slid a chair beside him and they went to work. Mercedes noted how much the boy looked like his father from this angle.
Jeremy and Max went into his office and Mercedes followed. Max settled behind his desk. “Your son.” He shook his head. “Remarkable.”
“Did you know the Weddles got an e-mail stating the boy was safe?” Jeremy redirected.
“We’re on top of it. You need time to process, Jeremy.”
“There’s nothing to process. He detests me. When we’re through with him I’ll put him on a plane to Heathrow.”
“He doesn’t detest you,” Max said. “He’s probably devastated because he thi
nks you don’t love him.”
Jeremy waved him off. “Never mind that. What about the e-mail?”
“I’m more worried about the second ransom request.”
“The what?” Jeremy said.
“Weddles haven’t told the FBI. They don’t want it botched. No one knows what happened to the first bag of money. I need you two to investigate the next drop location and set up surveillance cameras so we can get a good look at him. Act like you’re out for a bite to eat, nothing official.”
“The Feds are going to be livid if they find out we’re doing this,” Mercedes warned.
“They had their chance. They muddled it,” Max said. “The next drop is scheduled for tomorrow evening at the Squire Inn, a pub on the south end of town. Check it out and place surveillance cameras near the bathrooms. That’s where the drop is to take place.”
“Yes, sir,” Mercedes said.
“I’ll keep an eye on your son,” he said to Jeremy.
Jeremy nodded and they walked through the Command Center. Mercedes noticed Andrew glare at his father the entire way across the room.
“I’ve got the surveillance equipment,” Joe Spinelli offered.
They stopped at his desk and he showed them how to set up the cameras. “You have a purse?” he asked Mercedes.
“No.”
“Pick one up on your way over there. The equipment is small enough to fit in a woman’s medium-sized purse.”
“Great, thanks,” she said, taking the bundle of equipment from him.
They went outside and the sun was setting, cast ing an orange glow over the bustling downtown area now filled with tourists for the Wine Festival. They found a boutique and she bought a purse to hide the equipment.
“Mind if we walk, or is the purse too heavy?” Jeremy said.
“You could be a gentleman and offer to carry it for me,” she joked.
He half-smiled.
“You’re the only one who can make me do that,” he said.
“What?”
“Make me smile under dire circumstances.”
“Gee, thanks, I think.”
He glanced at her with those penetrating eyes, shielded by the glasses. “I meant it as a compliment.”
She smiled herself. They walked another two blocks. Sounds of a rock band echoed through the streets.
“You really let him have it back there,” Jeremy said.
“I’m sorry?”
“Andrew. You scolded him like you were his mother.”
“He deserved it.”
“I don’t know what to say to him. My own son, a complete stranger to me.” He sighed. “It’s ridiculous to think we could ever have a relationship.”
“What, is that guilt? You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
“I conceived a child and didn’t live up to my responsibilities.”
“You weren’t even told about him. That’s not your fault.”
When they got to the pub it was packed with younger couples having drinks, flirting, eating dinner. It smelled of beer and popcorn.
He leaned close so she could hear him above the noise. “This is going to be madness tomorrow.”
You’re driving me mad right now.
Yikes! Where did that come from, chica?
“Let’s start with the bathrooms.” He pointed toward the back of the pub.
A waitress greeted them before they could make their way back. “Table for two?” she said.
“We’re going to hit the bathroom first,” Mercedes said.
“It’s not a public bathroom. You have to be a paying customer.”
“We’re staying for dinner,” Mercedes defended.
“Name?” the waitress said, expectantly.
“Barnes,” Jeremy said. “Two for dinner.”
The waitress allowed them to pass. They walked down the back hallway and Mercedes handed him a camera the size of a quarter. She went into the ladies’ room and strategically placed hers so it blended with the sand dollar-patterned wallpaper.
They met back in the hall and she noticed a back exit and another door that read No Exit: Employees Only.
“He’ll go out that way.” She pointed toward the back door.
“Too obvious. What’s in there, I wonder?” he nodded toward the Employees Only door.
She pulled out her pick and fiddled with the lock.
“You sure your only crime was getting caught with spray paint?” he teased.
She smiled and opened the door.
“What would you do without me?” she teased.
She locked the door and they glanced around the room. It contained wine racks, a safe and boxes of supplies.
“That’s it,” he said, motioning to a window in the corner. “We’ll leave a camera here and place one outside, as well.”
“But how will he get in if the door’s locked?”
“You had no problem breaking in.”
“Yeah, but I’m a pro.”
He smiled again and she found herself wanting to grab him and kiss him. Instead, she pulled a small camera from the bag and placed it on a wine rack pointing toward the door.
The sound of a key turning the lock made her jump. How were they going to explain this? If they were reported to the cops, they’d find out the Weddles had been lying about another ransom demand and—
The door creaked; she panicked, wrapped her arms around Jeremy’s neck and kissed him.
Chapter Twelve
She was kissing him.
And it tasted heavenly, Jeremy thought as he parted his lips and leaned into her. She was better than he’d imagined, bloody hot.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” a male voice barked from the doorway.
They broke apart, Jeremy’s mind muddled with unexpected passion. Had to get ahold of his wits. He glanced at the burly man, probably a bouncer, unable to come up with a single logical answer as to why they were locked in the supply room.
“I hate you!” Mercedes cried and slapped Jeremy.
He reached up and touched his cheek in shock. Blast, she had just kissed him. She had no right to be offended that he responded the way any typical male would.
“My purse got stolen and I started to cry and he couldn’t stand being seen in public with a hysterical girl, so he dragged me back here where he wouldn’t be ashamed of me.” She shoved her purse at the bouncer. “See? Everything is gone!” She spun on Jeremy. “It doesn’t matter to you because you’re a heartless ladies’ man, but I’ve lost my wallet, my appointment book, even my lip gloss. And you don’t even care.”
Jeremy admired her quick thinking and her talent at convincing the man they were a romantic couple having an argument.
“How’d you get in here? The door is locked.” The bouncer directed them into the hallway.
“It wasn’t locked,” Jeremy argued.
“It says Employees Only.”
“I was hoping for some privacy, to calm her down.”
“You jerk!” She lunged at him, but the bouncer caught her by the waist.
She shot Jeremy a victorious grin, but Jeremy wanted to rip the bloke’s hands off her.
“Let’s go,” the bouncer said.
Go where? To report them to the manager?
“Barnes!” the hostess called down the hallway.
“Our table is ready,” he said to the bouncer. “Take your hands off my girlfriend.”
“Or what?” he threatened, plopping Mercedes down in the hallway and glaring at Jeremy.
Great, they may not be arrested for breaking and entering, but they’d surely be remembered if Jeremy and this thug got into a fight. Especially if Jeremy used his martial arts training to take him down.
Jeremy stared into his eyes. Look scared, he thought. But he couldn’t bring himself to pretend this man intimidated him. Too much had happened today. He was raw from the news about Andrew… and the kiss with Mercedes.
“I’m hungry and I have no money. The least you can do is make him buy me dinne
r,” Mercedes said to the man.
She grabbed Jeremy’s hand and shot the bouncer a pitiful pout.
“Go on, get the hell out of my sight,” the bouncer said, probably angry with himself for leaving the door unlocked.
Jeremy absently followed Mercedes. Surrounded by the chatter and laugher of a full pub, he couldn’t even think straight.
Mercedes placed her hand to the back of his neck and for a second he thought she meant to kiss him again. Instead, she whispered in his ear. “We need to stay for dinner to make our story convincing. You know, act like we’re a fight-and-make-up kind of couple.”
Convincing. This was about setting up the equipment and analyzing the ransom drop.
It had nothing to do with the pain starting deep in his chest, an ache for the physical connection with this woman. He admitted to himself that it wasn’t just physical. He wanted something else from her. Something he didn’t dare consider.
The waitress sat them in a corner booth by the front window. The pub was loud, to be sure, but it was quieter up front.
“What can I get you to drink?” the waitress asked.
“Sparkling water, please,” Jeremy said.
The waitress made a face.
“Rum and cola,” Mercedes ordered.
The waitress disappeared into the mass of people. He noticed the bouncer eyeing them through the crowd.
“Give me your hand,” Jeremy said.
She hesitated.
“We’re being watched.”
She spotted the bouncer and slid her right hand across the table. Jeremy took it and brought it to his lips. Closing his eyes, he kissed the back of her hand, then turned it over and kissed her palm. It tasted of citrus and mint and he wondered what she used on her skin that made it so soft, so seductive.
“Jeremy?” she said.
“Yes?” He opened his eyes.
She said something, but he couldn’t hear it above the music.
“This is ridiculous.” He got up and shifted into the booth beside her.
Panic flashed in her eyes, as if she feared what could happen between them if he got too close. He smiled, letting her know this was all part of the ruse. She relaxed and he put his arm around her shoulder.
He didn’t expect her to lean into his chest.
“That was quick thinking back there, Agent Ramos,” he said.