“A, he never mentioned you. And B, he’s been missing for four weeks now, and you don’t seem to know about that.”
“Missing?” She blinked. “How can he be missing?”
The mayor frowned, his thin lips dipping above a sparse goatee. “He just up and disappeared. One of his clients called Sheriff Winfield when they couldn’t get ahold of your dad. They cordoned this place off. His house, too. Spent days collecting information and doing that forensic thing you see on TV.”
As a trace evidence expert, she knew all about that “forensic thing,” as he called it. She collected and handled forensics on a regular basis. But she had no idea how to handle the second shock of the day. “Do you know if the sheriff found anything?”
“Guess you haven’t read the papers.”
She shook her head, but wouldn’t explain her limited knowledge of her biological father. “What do they say?”
“Eddie embezzled from his clients and skated with an estimated quarter of a million dollars in tenant rents and security deposits.”
Sierra’s mouth fell open, and she couldn’t close it. Shock number three, and like in the game of baseball, she was so out. Her father wasn’t her real father and her biological father was a criminal. A criminal!
Everything caught up to her. She struggled to breathe. Her legs suddenly felt weak. She grabbed onto the wall and started hyperventilating.
“Hey, hey.” The mayor reached into his pocket, and pulled out a full key ring. “You look like you need to sit down.”
He quickly unlocked the door, took her arm, and led her inside the small office. She dropped onto the nearest chair and put her head between her knees before she passed out. She concentrated on taking deep breaths, but she couldn’t seem to gain control of her breathing.
“Sit tight,” the mayor said. “I’ll go grab a bottle of water for you.”
He bolted out the door. She didn’t want him to watch her make a fool of herself and was thankful he left. She stared at her feet illuminated by a beam of light shining through the glass door and counted over and over the eyelets in her sneakers to take her mind off her breathing. She felt her body eventually relax, and her breathing return to normal, but the mayor hadn’t returned.
She sat up and noticed for the first time that the office smelled stale with a hint of mildew, like it had been closed up for some time. She looked at the desk in front of her. Even in the dark she could see it was covered in fingerprint powder as were many other surfaces.
Curiosity got the best of her, and she went to a door heading to the back room to examine the wood doorframe where residual black powder lingered. She assumed the sheriff department’s CSI team processed this place when the sheriff had responded to the call reporting Eddie missing. The town likely contracted policing with the sheriff as did many tiny towns on the coast.
She wanted more information on Eddie’s disappearance, and the sheriff taking charge of the investigation should work in her favor. Up until six months ago, Veritas’s investigator Blake Jenkins had been the county sheriff here, and he might be able to get a copy of the sheriff’s file on Eddie’s disappearance.
She moved over to a picture on the wall behind the desk taken at a baseball field where the mayor stood proudly with another man at his side, both wearing blue-and-white Seaview Cove uniforms. The other man’s smile seemed familiar to her, and it took her a few seconds to figure out why. She’d seen the smile in the mirror her entire life. This was Eddie Barnes, and she had his smile.
She ran a finger over his mouth and quickly searched his other facial features. He had a round face like hers, but deep-set blue eyes and a hooked nose not at all like hers. He wore a ball cap that hid his hair, and she couldn’t compare the color to hers.
Tears pricked her eyes again, and she wanted to sit down on the floor and have a good cry. But if Eddie was indeed missing, she needed to call in the considerable resources of the Veritas team to help her locate him. She preferred to think he hadn’t absconded with his clients’ money, but—criminal or not—she needed to see him.
“FBI, don’t move,” a deep male voice rumbled through the small space making her jump. “Hands on the back of your head.”
“Wait, I…”
“Now!”
She thought to turn, but she was sure this agent had a gun and any sudden move could earn her a bullet in the back. She complied, lifting her arms in the air and slowly placing them on the back of her head.
She heard his solid footsteps cautiously cross the room. She held her breath as she waited. He pressed her against the wall, grabbed one of her arms, and tightly cuffed her wrist. She took a long breath and inhaled his scent of warm cinnamon mixed with citrus and masculine leather.
The law enforcement officers she often interacted with on the job didn’t smell this good, and she was instantly curious about him, but not curious enough to forget her anger at being cuffed.
“You’re going to regret doing this,” she said, but as he jerked her other arm back, she wondered if she was the one who would regret coming on a whim to Seaview Cove.
2
Reed huffed out a breath. Just like a suspect to threaten him. The very last thing he needed in this investigation that was going nowhere. As an FBI Agent, he should be doing the threatening.
He flipped on the overhead lights and quickly searched the woman, finding only keys and a cell phone in her pockets. He took hold of her shoulder and spun her around.
Big golden-brown eyes met his. Eyes loaded with fury. Her breath was coming in quick, angry gasps, her chest rising and falling.
He ignored her anger and ran his gaze over her. Slender, tall. Five foot ten, he guessed. She wore tan pants tight at the ankles with multiple zippered pockets, and a knit top that wrapped around at her trim waist and fit like a glove, emphasizing her toned abs. He brought his gaze back to her face, and he had to remind himself to breathe.
“Like what you see?” Her snide tone made him mad. Not because of the tone, but because she was right. He’d basically been ogling her.
“Agent Reed Rice.” He held out his credentials. “And you are?”
“Sierra Byrd. My ID’s in my car.”
“Oh, no,” a male said from the doorway. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Reed reached for his weapon and spun, but relaxed when he saw the mayor standing in there.
“You know this woman, Mayor Parks?” Reed asked, making sure to keep an eye on both of them.
“Just met her. She’s Eddie’s daughter. I told her he was missing, and she started hyperventilating. So I let her in to sit down and went to get water.” He held out a bottle.
Reed locked gazes with Parks. “Eddie doesn’t have a daughter.”
“But she said…” Parks suddenly looked ill himself.
“She most likely wanted to get in here to retrieve something for him.”
“Why don’t you both try asking me why I’m here?” Her snide tone was back.
This time it really peeved Reed off. He widened his stance and locked gazes with her. “Like I believe you’d tell me the truth.”
She sighed, the breath seeming to go on and on. “Give Sheriff Winfield a call. He’ll vouch for me.”
Reed never took what a suspect said as the truth, but something about her confident tone and the way she held his gaze said she wasn’t lying. “How do you know the sheriff?”
“I’m the trace evidence expert at the Veritas Center in Portland. His former boss, Blake Jenkins, works as our investigator now.”
Veritas Center? He knew all about that place. His office had used their services in the past. He knew the word Veritas meant truth in Latin, and they prided themselves on finding the truth using their varied and highly-praised skills. Could she really be part of that team?
“She’s right about Blake,” Parks said sounding relieved. “He did move to Portland to go to work for them about six months ago.”
“He’s also engaged to our DNA expert, Emory Ste
ele,” Ms. Byrd, if that was really her name, added.
“Yeah…right…yeah.” Parks blew out a relieved breath. “I knew he got engaged to one of them, and that’s why he left his job as our sheriff.”
“So you’re one of the squints at Veritas,” Reed said absently as he thought about how to proceed.
“One of the scientists, yes.” She glared at him as if he’d insulted her.
Maybe he had.
“I just learned today that Eddie Barnes is my biological father,” she said. “I came here to meet him. As Mayor Parks said, I nearly passed out. I’m not usually one to faint, but one too many shocks for the day did me in.”
Reed glanced past the mayor and out the open door. “Which car is yours, Ms. Byrd?”
“The red Honda.”
“And your ID is in there?”
“Wallet’s in my backpack on the floor in the front seat.”
“I’ll need your keys,” he said remembering they were in her pants pocket, and there was no way he would go fishing in her pocket for her keys. “Turn around.”
She did, slowly and with an exaggerated sigh. He ignored her continued irritation and also ignored how well the pants fit her shapely body to unlock one of her wrists. “Get your keys out and slowly hand them to me.”
She reached into her pocket, not making any effort to break free, and slapped the keys onto his palm.
He clamped the cuff back into place and tossed the keys to Parks. “Go get her backpack.”
“Sure.” He scuttled out of the room.
“You can turn around now,” Reed said.
“Like I want to look at you.”
“I’ll need to see your face to compare it to your ID.” He didn’t really need to see her as he’d memorized her face, big eyes with long lashes, and soft-looking hair, but he wanted to keep an eye on her expressions.
She slowly turned. He expected her to call him out on his obvious ploy to get her to face him, but she didn’t say a word and stared at him. As an agent he should be irritated at her behavior, but she was feisty. He liked that. Liked it a lot.
Parks rushed back into the room carrying a black leather backpack. He set it on the desk, and Reed got out her wallet then fished out her driver’s license. He looked at the photo first, surprised to see she’d taken a decent picture at the DMV when they were often hideous. Next he checked her name and details. At thirty-two, she was three years younger than him. And she was indeed five-ten and weighed one-thirty.
He turned to Parks. “Thanks, I can take it from here. I’ll lock up after we leave.”
Parks clasped his hands together, his gaze on Ms. Byrd. “Are you going to arrest her?”
“We’ll see what the sheriff has to say.” Reed looked at her. “Might as well sit while we wait.”
He pointed at the chairs by the desk. She strode past him, and he noticed for the first time that she smelled like vanilla and something else he couldn’t put his finger on. He lingered on the thought far too long and had to mentally shake off the effect she was having on him to get out his phone and dial Sheriff Winfield’s cell.
“Evening, Agent Reed,” Winfield said.
“I have a Sierra Byrd here in Eddie Barnes’s office. She claims you know her.”
She cleared her throat, likely over the word “claims,” but Reed kept his focus on his call.
“I know of her,” Winfield said. “But we’ve never met. Our former sheriff works with her and speaks highly of her.”
That was a start. “You aware of Eddie having a kid?”
“No, and our investigation didn’t turn that up.”
Reed expected Winfield to ask what that had to do with Sierra, but he didn’t.
“Give me the cell number for Jenkins so I can confirm her ID with him,” Reed said.
A long silence filled the phone. “Doesn’t she have her license?”
Yeah, but Reed wasn’t ready to admit the first lead he had in this investigation in weeks really might not be a lead at all. “I need a character reference.”
“Okay.” Winfield gave Reed the guy’s cell number, and he memorized it.
“What are you doing at Barnes’s office anyway?” Winfield asked. “New evidence?”
Reed didn’t need to explain his actions, but he’d developed a strong working relationship with this sheriff and wanted to keep that relationship going. “I had some free time this weekend and came by to interview the locals again. See if they learned anything new on Barnes. I noticed movement inside Barnes’s office and decided to check it out.”
“I’m assuming if there was anything new I’d have heard about it, but good luck with the interviews.” The call abruptly ended.
Reed snapped a picture of Sierra as she glared at him, her mouth puckered. He made the call to the former sheriff.
“Blake Jenkins,” he answered, his tone sharp and all business.
“This is FBI Special Agent Reed Rice. Sheriff Winfield gave me your number.”
“How can I help you, Agent Reed?” he asked, his tone now cautious.
“I’m in Seaview Cove working a missing person’s investigation and have a woman here who claims to be Sierra Byrd. I need you to confirm her ID and vouch for her.”
“Sierra?” His surprise left Reed wondering even more about the woman. “She’s our trace evidence expert. What’s she doing there?”
He wouldn’t answer that or share any other details until he was positive of her ID—and probably not even then. “I’m sending her picture your way. Mind checking it and confirming it’s your expert?”
“Glad to.”
Reed sent the picture and ignored the way she continued to glare at him as he waited for it to go through.
“Yeah, that’s Sierra,” Jenkins said readily. “Not sure why you have her cuffed, but she doesn’t look too happy with you.”
Reed ignored the last part of Jenkins’s comment. “She ever tell you that Eddie Barnes is her biological father?”
“No, but then I’ve only worked here around six months and don’t know all the partners’ personal details.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“Is she under arrest?” Blake asked. “Does she need a lawyer?”
“I’ll release her the minute we get off the phone.”
“Tell her to call me once you set her free.”
“Will do.” Reed hung up and shoved his phone into the pocket of his suit jacket. He started for her, and she came to her feet.
She ran her gaze over him from head to toe, mimicking the way he’d given her the once-over. When her gaze locked back on his face, her expression said she found him wanting, and heaven help him, that bothered him almost as much as cuffing a woman who hadn’t really done anything to deserve being shackled.
The fed was tall. Six foot two, Sierra figured, and wore what looked like a custom black suit that fit him very well. Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist. A ruby red tie circled the neck of his white dress shirt and made his black hair and swarthy coloring look even darker. But it was his eyes she couldn’t stop looking at. Brown almost onyx. Dark and dangerous. Long lashes. Mesmerizing.
He held up his handcuff key. “If you’ll turn around, I’ll remove the cuffs.”
She wanted to snap at him, but she wanted the cuffs off more, so she clamped her mouth closed and turned. She also wanted to punch the guy like she often socked her brothers in the arm, but she would never do that. The agent had simply done his job. Found someone he didn’t know in the office of the man he was seeking for embezzlement.
“You’re angry,” he said, his touch gentle as he removed the metal circling her wrists.
“You think?” She rubbed her wrists and turned to stare up at him.
“Just doing my job,” he stated, but his expression held remorse.
“I know, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me mad.”
He gestured at the chairs. “Let’s sit down and discuss your connection to Eddie.”
She wanted to th
umb her nose at him and walk out, but she knew he could arrest her for failing to cooperate in his investigation. Anyway, she wanted Eddie found—no matter what he’d done.
She took a seat in the same white vinyl chair with silver arms meant to look stylish and contemporary. She waited for the agent to sit next to her, but he propped a shoulder on the wall and crossed his ankles. Right. He was trying to act relaxed to make her relax, too. She’d seen it a hundred times by detectives and agents on crime scenes, and she wouldn’t fall for it. Besides, the intensity in his gaze was a dead giveaway to his real feelings.
“So, Ms. Byrd.” He paused and fastened those dark eyes on hers.
“It’s Sierra.”
He gave a clipped nod. “So, Sierra, you just found out today that Barnes is your father?”
She didn’t miss the fact that he didn’t return the favor and tell her to call him Reed instead of Agent Rice. “That’s right, Agent Rice.”
“No need to be so formal,” he said, his mouth inching up at the corners. “You can call me Reed if you want.”
She didn’t want to call him anything. She wanted him to leave her alone. “My father—at least the man I have known all my life as my father—needs a kidney transplant. I wanted to donate one, so I got tested. Today I found out that his blood type rules him out from being my father. I confronted my parents. My mom admitted she got pregnant by Eddie when she lived here. He didn’t want to be a father. I guess he was a real player.”
Reed looked sorry for her. “After investigating him for a month, I would concur with that.”
“So he hasn’t changed?”
“Doesn’t seem like it.” Reed tilted his head. “I would think as a scientist you would’ve wanted DNA confirmation that he was your father before making the long trip out here.”
She resisted sighing over her hasty decision. “Yeah, you’d think that, but when my mom told me, I kinda lost it and hopped in the car. I don’t know what I expected to happen, but I would’ve eventually asked for a DNA test.”
“We’ll be needing one,” he stated matter-of-factly.
Of course they would. Law enforcement officers didn’t take anyone’s word for anything. She should know that. As a crime scene investigator, she spent a lot of time in their company. “I assume you have Eddie’s DNA on file.”
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