by M. S. Parker
I had to admit, it was nice to know that I didn’t have to follow anyone else’s protocol as I followed my target into a boutique. I was two feet inside when I realized that this place wasn’t merely a boutique. It was a fetishist boutique. While the front of the shop had displayed a few simple yet sexy nightgowns, inside was a whole other world.
Corsets that ranged from covering everything to covering under the breasts down to the bellybutton. High-heeled boots in every style and size imaginable. Skintight pants and skirts of varying length. Assless chaps. Chains. Whips. Ball-gags. Sex toys that made me blush as I considered how they were meant to be used.
I processed it all in seconds but still couldn’t find it in me to move. I was frozen to the spot, calling attention to myself in a way that I definitely didn’t want to. The cashier gave me a concerned look, and I wondered if she was trying to think of the best way to approach me without being offensive.
I could do this.
I had to do this.
Gritting my teeth, I took off my sunglasses and pocketed them. I gave the cashier a smile and started in the same direction as my target had gone. Nothing here was illegal, I reminded myself. Just because some of it was too far in the kinky zone for me to feel comfortable with didn’t mean that there was anything wrong with it. Consent was what mattered.
Hence my reason for following thirty-five-year-old warehouse manager Chuck Elmsworth from his little suburban home to Dominque’s Boutique. He was suspected of seducing and then blackmailing underage girls into performing on camera with things from shops like this. The biggest problem trying to take down someone like him was that technology had progressed to the point where men like him were doing live and streaming videos that didn’t need hard copy storage.
Jenna and I were hoping that some of Elmsworth’s customers would be old school enough that they’d want a physical recording. If we could bust him when he made the move to get his merchandise to his customers, that’d be leverage at the very least.
I reminded myself that I wasn’t doing anything wrong by being there. I was an adult, and just because it made me uncomfortable didn’t mean that I wasn’t supposed to be there. Except, it wasn’t the fetish stuff that made me uncomfortable, I realized. Once I’d gotten over the surprise of where I was, the things around me didn’t bother me at all. Some of them, I didn’t get, but hey, to each their own, right?
As long as it was consensual.
And that was the problem I was having at the moment.
Good old Chuck was standing in front of some bondage equipment. Handcuffs. Ropes. Silk scarves. Leather straps. Buckled cuffs. Harnesses. Other more complicated things that I had no clue how they worked. Things that I sincerely hoped Jalen never wanted to use with me.
And Chuck stared at them, the front of his pants tenting out as whatever he was picturing turned him on. I really hoped that Agent Matthews was mistaken, and this guy was just thinking about his legal-age girlfriend or wife. Or maybe a boyfriend or husband. As long as they were over eighteen, I didn’t care who got Chuck’s motor going.
I didn’t go down that aisle but instead went to the next one. It contained a liberal number of different types of lubricant. Dozens of flavors. Warming. Edible.
Without meaning to, I flashed back to the times that Jalen had promised to fuck me in the ass. On impulse, I grabbed a couple tubes.
Just in case I had to follow Chuck to the register, of course. It had nothing to do with the thrill of anticipation that ran down my spine. Whenever Jalen decided that he was ready to take things there, I was sure he’d be prepared.
And that was not the mission.
I needed to focus. I couldn’t let myself get distracted, no matter how tempting the distraction.
A shrill ringtone cut through the air for several seconds before being abruptly cut off.
“I thought I told you never to call me,” a man whispered. “I’ll call you.”
Unless someone else had appeared in the aisle I’d just passed, it was Chuck on the phone. I stilled, concentrating on Chuck’s side of the conversation.
“Yes, yes, I know what I said, and you’ll get your…I’ll have everything on time, just like I promised.” His voice got quieter, but I was close enough to still make out what he was saying. “Three.” Pause. “Yes, they’ll follow the script.”
Script. Fuck.
“No, I can’t get another one. Do you have any idea how hard it is to–”
Another one. Whoever was on the other end of the phone wanted more of what I assumed was kids. Doing things that I didn’t even want to imagine them doing.
“I’m getting supplies right now.” He sighed. “Do you have a preference between whips and crops?”
My stomach lurched, and I tossed the lube toward the closest shelf. I didn’t bother to wait and see if any of them dropped. I needed to get out of there before I did something I regretted. Like throwing up in the middle of the aisle.
Or walking over to Chuck and kicking him right in the balls.
I managed to make it outside without running and then went a few more feet before stopping to catch my breath. When I’d gone into this, I hadn’t known exactly what I’d be looking for, but I’d just found it. It wasn’t the sort of thing that would hold up in court, but that wasn’t my job. Once I got this back to Jenna, she could hack Chuck’s phone records and find out who he was talking to.
The people I’d be following as I helped Jenna would be some of the most despicable types of people on the planet, but I wasn’t regretting my offer to help her. I’d enjoyed the PI work, but tracking down cheating spouses, while lucrative, wasn’t quite as fulfilling as knowing that I was helping the FBI put away human traffickers.
My stomach had settled, which meant it was now time to call Jenna with the information I’d overheard. After that, I’d see if I could find Yvonne Planter at her place of business. According to Jenna, Yvonne was connected to Chuck’s venture in some way and possibly had her fingers into some sweatshops too.
I might not have a badge, but I was doing good work.
I smiled. My mom would’ve been proud.
Twenty
I was twelve years old the last time I’d had a big Thanksgiving. Dad’s accident had happened at the end of summer, and he hadn’t been ready for guests by the time the holidays rolled around. It’d been a good thing we hadn’t tried since he’d gotten angry in the middle of the meal and started throwing things. At least the memory of the last real Thanksgiving we’d had together was untarnished.
Neither Anton nor I had ever been up to making a Thanksgiving meal, emotionally or in practicality. We’d made our own tradition where we’d gone to this little diner a couple blocks from the loft. It’d been owned by a family of Jehovah Witnesses, so they kept it open over the holidays for people like them who didn’t celebrate holidays, and people like my uncle and me who didn’t have anywhere else to go.
After Anton’s death, I hadn’t wanted to celebrate anything. Moving here, I’d hoped I’d be able to find some quiet sort of acceptance to having holidays myself, find traditions that didn’t hurt as much as the ones I’d left behind.
I’d never imagined that I’d be spending Thanksgiving in a mansion with my boyfriend, my new friend, her husband, kids, and the rest of their family. It didn’t seem possible.
Now, if I could only get the butterflies in my stomach to believe that this was a good thing, I’d be set.
“You look like you’re going to pass out,” Jalen said as we walked up to the front door. “That, or throw up.”
“I’m okay.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.
He chuckled. “I might believe you if you weren’t cutting off the blood supply in my arm.”
I flushed as I loosened my grip on his arm. “Sorry.”
He shook his head and patted my hand. “Don’t worry. If we were going to meet my parents, I’d say you had every right to be nervous, but you know the Archers. They’re good people.”
<
br /> I gave him what I hoped was a reassured smile. It wasn’t Jenna or Rylan who had me worried. It was Rylan’s sister and his best friend. I hoped they both would understand that I wasn’t trying to force my way into their family. More than that, it was the kids who had me worried. I’d never spent much time around kids, and this seemed like a crash course kind of thing that never ended well.
Then again, I supposed it was better that Rylan and Jenna learn now rather than later that they should never ask me to babysit.
“Relax,” Jalen whispered as he knocked on the door.
“I’ll get right on that,” I muttered.
The door opened before I could say anything else. A tall, slender young woman with short, dark hair beamed up at us. “Hi! You must be Rona and Jalen. I’m Suzette. Come on in.”
“We brought wine,” Jalen said as he followed me inside.
“That makes you my favorite new person.” Suzette winked at him, then at me. “Don’t worry, I know he’s taken. I just might want to steal him to take my brother’s place when Ry’s being an ass. Like he’s being now.”
“Language, Suz,” Jenna called from the kitchen.
“It’s not like Diana and I haven’t heard the word ass before.” Jeremiah was leaning against the fridge with a sullen expression on his face.
“Language,” Rylan said firmly. “Just because you know it doesn’t mean you have to use it.”
Jeremiah sighed and rolled his eyes, but even I could see how much he admired Rylan. I could only imagine how much work my friends had put into building trust with their children. As much as I knew Jenna’s past had influenced her decision to keep working with Agent Matthews, I knew that she saw her work from a mother’s perspective now. She was fighting to protect her children and other children…and she was fighting to hurt the people who’d hurt her kids, and other people’s kids.
I pushed aside the maudlin thoughts and smiled. This wasn’t work time. This was family time, and that was something I hadn’t had in so very long.
“Aunt Suzette!” Diana barreled into the brunette’s legs. “I need you to fix my hair. Uncle Zeke made a mess of it.”
Suzette laughed as she touched the little girl’s lop-sided puffballs of hair. “Yes, he did.”
As we entered the kitchen, a tall, handsome man sauntered in from the other side. “I warned her that I’m all thumbs when it comes to hair.” He smiled at us and reached around Jenna to grab a carrot off a tray. “She should’ve waited for Alan to get here.”
“What time does his parents’ flight leave?” Rylan asked.
“Five forty-five,” Zeke said. “He texted me a couple minutes ago to say he’s on his way.”
“Zeke, this is Rona Quick and Jalen Larsen.” Jenna smacked Zeke’s hand when he tried to steal another carrot. “Don’t spoil your appetite.”
“You know that will never happen,” Rylan said.
“Good point,” Jenna said. “Zeke, why don’t you and Jeremiah finish setting the table?”
Before Jeremiah could complain, Zeke nudged his shoulder and gestured to the vegetable tray. To my surprise, the kid picked it up and followed Zeke into the dining room.
“Zeke and Rylan earned his trust pretty quickly,” Jenna said quietly. “When it comes to men, he goes by first impressions. He tends to be more skeptical of women, always watching for them to turn on him. Diana wants to trust, but she’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
I nodded, understanding what she wasn’t saying. I’d never do anything to intentionally cause distrust, but I needed to be extra careful around the kids. Even if we never became close, they needed to see I was trustworthy.
At that moment, I realized what I wanted to do with Burkart Investigations. Tomorrow, I’d take a closer look at the books to see where things stood financially and if my idea was even feasible. I needed to hire a receptionist who could keep the office open while I was in the field, and then I needed to find an investigator who’d be able to take on the everyday cases of infidelity and lost pets, that sort of thing.
Once I didn’t have to deal with the majority of the paperwork and simple cases, I’d be able to focus most of my time on criminals. I’d work the cases Jenna hired me for, of course, but I’d find other scumbags who needed to be put away. Anonymous tips worked as long as they stayed anonymous. I’d look into pro bono cases too. Ones like Theo and Meka who didn’t have someone like Jalen to pay for an investigator.
I’d catch the cases that fell through the cracks.
“You okay?” Jalen asked, his question interrupting my thought process.
I nodded and smiled. “I’m good. It’s been a while since I’ve been around this many people on a holiday. Takes some getting used to.”
He reached down and squeezed my hand. “If it gets to be too much, just say the word, and we’ll go. You know Jenna and Rylan will understand.”
“Thanks.”
I appreciated the gesture, but I wasn’t going to take him up on his offer. As conflicted as my emotions were, I genuinely wanted to be there. My relationship with Adare had softened me up, and the closer I grew to Jalen and Jenna, and even Rylan, the more I wanted to be a part of a family.
I’d missed this more than I’d let myself acknowledge.
I moved over to the stove where Rylan was mixing a stick of butter into a bowl of mashed potatoes. “How can I help?”
Twenty-One
My elbows popped as I stretched my arms above my head. I’d been working at my laptop for most of the day, but I’d accomplished a lot. And I’d been able to watch Christmas specials while I did it. A restful day followed by a date with Jalen tonight. That sounded like the perfect way to continue a great holiday weekend.
I’d ultimately decided to close the office and work from home today. Black Friday was important for retailers all over the country, but I doubted anyone would be clamoring to come see a PI today. It wasn’t like I was offering some sort of two-for-one discount or something like that. I had a feeling some people might’ve expected just that if they’d seen I was open today.
It hadn’t been until earlier this afternoon that I’d realized how much Adare had been preparing me to take over until I opened the books. As I went through the now familiar process, I remembered how often over the months before she died that she’d had me doing them for her. She’d said it was because she hated working with numbers, and as her employee, I got to do the things she didn’t want to do.
Now, I knew it was because she’d wanted me to not only be familiar with the way things were done. She’d also known I’d need to be able to pick up without needing a learning curve.
There had been one thing, however, she had kept from me. I’d known that Burkart Investigations was doing well, but I hadn’t realized that she’d invested some of the profits over the years, then cashed them out shortly before she died. The business had a savings account that could keep things running for two years without me taking a single client.
Even as I stared at the numbers, I still couldn’t quite believe it. Because of her careful planning, I’d be able to hire a receptionist right away and be able to take my time finding the right investigator. And I could do it all without feeling guilty about taking on pro bono cases.
Adare would’ve been pleased.
My cell phone rang, and I picked it up without looking at the screen. “Hello?”
“Where is my daughter?” The man’s voice was angry, but I could hear the bright thread of panic weaving through his words.
“Who is this?” My question was blunt but necessary. Reacting to the accusation wouldn’t do anything but cause an argument.
“Is this Rona Quick?” He sounded uncertain now.
“It is,” I said. “May I ask with whom I’m speaking?” Politer, more formal. Hopefully, it would prompt him to answer my question, and then I could figure out what exactly was going on.
“Elliot Johnson. I’m Stacey’s father.”
Shit.
“Mr. Johns
on, I don’t know where your daughter is.” I kept my tone even, but inside, my stomach was twisting into knots.
Any missing kid case would tear me up, I knew, but Stacey…she was Jenna’s sister. And if the teenager’s disappearance was related to my finding her, I’d never forgive myself.
“Like hell you don’t!”
The anger was back again, but I didn’t care if he was furious with me. I just needed him to believe me so that we could start looking for Stacey.
“I swear to you, Mr. Johnson, I haven’t seen Stacey or talked to her. I’ve respected your wishes and left her alone.”
“Then her sister has her. Give me the bitch’s name, and I’ll leave you alone.”
I ignored the automatic need to protect my friend. His thirteen-year-old daughter was missing. I’d be freaking out too. Jenna would have agreed with me.
“Why?” I shook my head, trying to understand. “Does Stacey even know about her sister?”
That silenced him, but only for a moment. “Not from us, she doesn’t, but I wouldn’t put it past you and the woman who hired you to wreck our lives to do something behind my back.”
Anger rose inside me, but I forced it down. “I certainly did no such thing, and I’ll call my client to ask if she’s seen or heard from Stacey, but I know this woman very well. She was disappointed that you didn’t want the two of them to meet, but she understood and accepted your decision. She wouldn’t have gone against your wishes, and if Stacey had come to her, she would’ve contacted you. At the very least, she would have called me to contact you on her behalf.”
“She has to have her. It’s the only explanation.”
He was grasping for an answer that would allow his daughter to be safe and give him someone to be mad at, I realized. I didn’t try to argue with him. Wasting time wasn’t what we needed right now.
“When did you last see her?”
“This morning when she left with Roberta to hit the Black Friday sales.”
Okay, that was a bit more literal than I’d meant it to be. “What about your wife? When did she last see Stacey?”