Wind Storm (The Gathering Storm Book 3)

by Marlow Kelly

  “Did I hurt you? Is your hip okay?” She leaned up on her elbow and searched his face.

  He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Never better. Tell me about Child Seekers. What’s your job like? Do you have a title?”

  She snuggled closer and stared at the ceiling. “I’m an investigator. It’s like I said this morning, I can’t give it up. It’s a calling. Although, it hasn’t been the same since Carla died.”

  “Who’s she?” He wanted to turn off the light but was scared if he moved, she might clam up and they would lose this moment.

  “She was my old partner.”

  “What happened to her?” The tip of her finger traced his abdomen and was driving him crazy.

  “She was killed by an IED in Afghanistan.”

  “I’m sorry. Do you have a new partner?”

  “Yes, his name’s Jake. He’s okay. But there’s something about him. It’s like there’s a wall between us. Maybe it’s just me because I loved Carla so much. She was like a sister and Jake is…well…he’s an old ex-police officer who’s rude and smokes a pack a day. Perhaps I expect too much from him. It’s just…I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “You don’t trust him.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I’ve had partners. I’ve also worked undercover and had to rely on my Army CID contact. You have to be one hundred percent certain they have your back. If you get into trouble, they are the first person you call. With everything that’s happened, you haven’t once mentioned calling him.”

  “If you had that kind of backup with CID, why did you go into PDE? It was unsanctioned. You lost your job.”

  He allowed her to change the subject. “I was unhappy there. It wasn’t anything they did. It was me. I soured. It felt like every time I put one of the bad guys away, another two would crawl out of the woodwork. I just couldn’t do it anymore. Helping David was a no-brainer.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  He gave a harsh laugh and then said, “I haven’t had a chance to miss it, what with being injured and all.” He hadn’t said the words “the Syndicate,” but they hung in the air anyway, like a ghost floating over them.

  Her body heat sank into him, and her soft hands were doodling loops over his stomach, gradually moving lower.

  “You’re driving me nuts.” He grabbed her hand and placed it on his erect penis. “Do you see what you’ve done to me?”

  “Good.” She licked his nipple while she pumped his dick. “Do you think you can manage doggy style?”

  “Fuck. You’re hot.” He sat up as she rolled over and then lifted herself up onto all fours. He positioned himself behind her.

  PDE, the Syndicate, hiding his family—none of it mattered because he was going to die satisfying Sinclair. He couldn’t think of a better way to go.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was a beautiful autumn evening. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The way the sunlight hit the golden fall leaves in the surrounding forest made Sinclair wish they were a couple on a road trip and not two people heading to the PDE building in Granite city in order to commit what could only be described as a data heist. She pointed to a gas station. “That seems like a good spot.”

  Michael had decided she should use a payphone to call her work instead of his burner phone. There were some ifs and buts to his decision. If the Syndicate had tracked his movements, they might have his cell number and be able to track it and listen in on their conversation. But making a call from a landline meant they could trace the exact location where the call was made. But that would take longer, and they would be gone by then.

  They’d spent most of the morning in bed, which probably wasn’t the best thing to do when they were in hiding, but it was an indulgence. There was a good chance that after today, they would be living in cramped quarters with his family, and there would be no time, or space, for intimacy.

  Surprisingly, she didn’t regret going to bed with him, even though everything seemed to have happened so fast. Or maybe it was a relationship years in the making. He felt like home, which was both comforting and terrifying at the same time. Perhaps she had absolved him of his crimes too easily. He had, after all, dumped her and left without saying goodbye. That was a double whammy. But she was also forgiving herself. For years, she had wondered what she’d done wrong. Had she been too clingy? Was it the way she looked? In the end, she told herself to get over him and move on, but there was always a question at the back of her mind, a small seed of doubt that said she wasn’t good enough.

  Besides, she had been way too young when they were in bootcamp. At eighteen, she’d lacked confidence and had no conception of her true potential. But now she knew whatever happened, she would survive. If Michael changed his mind about her tomorrow and decided she was a mistake, then she would be fine…hurt, but fine. She would face the world and carry on—that is, after she punched him out.

  They had spent the afternoon packing up their gear and preparing to leave. If they didn’t return, Milo, Nadie, and Ava would trek into the mountains and make their way to Tim’s. It was a long hike, but Milo and Nadie had a lot of experience roughing it in the bush. With the right preparation, they should be able to make it. From there, Tim would be able to contact Finn.

  They had also gone over their plan for accessing PDE again. They would enter the building by the back entrance, which was normal procedure for janitorial staff. Then they would make their way, via the stairwell, to the fifth floor where they could log on to the secure network. Her biggest concern was that someone would recognize Michael. His good looks were too striking not to be noticed. He was planning on wearing a ball cap and a pair of glasses. Milo had knocked the lenses out of his sunglasses. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but it would have to do.

  Michael parked next to the phonebooth. “Despite what you see on cop shows, calls from a landline can’t be traced instantly, but you still want to keep it short. That way we can be long gone by the time the guys with guns show up.”

  Calling her Administrator, Amy, was dicey, but sooner or later she would have to make contact with Child Seekers. She didn’t want them wasting their valuable resources looking for her. She opened the passenger door.

  He grabbed her elbow. “Watch what you say.”

  She gave him her you’re-an-idiot look and said, “I’m not a civilian.” Then jumped out of the truck before he could reply.

  Luckily, she’d committed Amy’s work, home, and cell numbers to memory. It was one of the little things she did that made her feel in control, and this time her need to be prepared had paid off. She tried Amy’s home number first, figuring a landline to landline call was the safest bet.

  She picked up on the first ring. “Hello.”

  “Amy, it’s Sinclair.”

  “What’s up?” Amy, a childless widow, had volunteered at Child Seekers after being trafficked by a relative as a young woman.

  “I was jumped by a couple of thugs yesterday.”

  “Did you call Jake?” Their normal operating procedure would be for her to contact her partner for backup, but this wasn’t about her, or her work for Child Seekers, and she was reluctant to involve him. Maybe Michael was right, and she didn’t trust him.

  “No.” She sighed. “I’m not about to bother Jake…” She wasn’t sure how to explain politely that Jake would probably tell her to F-off.

  “I hear you, honey. He’s not the cream of the crop. There’s a reason that man retired early from the LAPD.”

  “I thought it was because he has a bum knee.” Sinclair pictured her partner limping around Kiev on their recent trip.

  “I have my doubts.” Which translated to mean she didn’t know anything definite, but she had her suspicions.

  Michael tapped on the driver’s side window and then pointed to his watch, a reminder for her to hurry it up.

  “Listen, I need to take some personal time.” She ran through the bare details, leaving out what she’d learned about Michael an
d the Syndicate and the fact they had come after Michael’s family. She loved her job, but at this point, it didn’t matter if Child Seekers fired her because she had no idea if she would be able to go back to her old life.

  “Honey, you have another problem.” She could almost see Amy pointing a perfectly manicured finger at her.

  “What is it?”

  “Our office had a break-in.”

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She gasped but didn’t interrupt.

  “They trashed the place. Nothing was taken. As far as the police can tell, they only accessed the payroll files. Actually, one payroll file—yours.”

  “Why would anyone want that?”

  “Because it has all your personal details including your address, your bank accounts, your social security number, and all the flights I’d booked for you. I called you and left a message, but I guess you dumped your phone.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “I reckon it was just after you landed.”

  “Shit.” She was silent for a moment. She should hang up and walk away, but she had to warn her just in case. “Listen, these people are bad. You need to watch your back. And I know Jake’s not your favorite person but warn him, too. I’ll try and call him when things get settled.”

  “Don’t you worry about me. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She disconnected, and Sinclair could almost see the middle-aged woman unlocking her gun safe and loading her weapons.

  Sinclair climbed into the truck and snapped her seatbelt into place.

  “What’s up?” Michael started the truck and pulled onto the back road. He didn’t harass her into talking. He simply sat there, silently waiting.

  She took a deep breath and blurted out everything Amy had told her.

  “They’re trying to track you, and they needed that info to do it.”

  “There’s something about the break-in that doesn’t feel right.”

  “None of this feels right.”

  “That’s true, but this is…more. I don’t know exactly.”

  “We’ll get the information we need from PDE, and then we can form a plan.” He turned right onto a secondary highway, heading east toward Granite City.

  ****

  Michael glanced at Sinclair. She seemed pensive and tense. Every muscle in her body was wound tight as she fingered the pocket that held her baton. She also wore a gun belt, which looked like a regular belt, fit through the loops of her jeans and was strong enough to hold her Glock and a spare magazine. Ava had produced a makeup bag and had done an amazing job covering Sinclair’s bruises. For the first time since he’d seen her two days ago, she reminded him of the girl she used to be. Maybe it was the way her strawberry blond hair was covered with a bandana or the softness in her gaze when she looked at him. Last night had been fantastic. Now all he had to do was convince her to stay for the long haul. Although that could be out of her hands because, unless they figured out a solution to their problem with the Syndicate, she might be forced to stay with him. On a personal level, that worked, but in every other way, it sucked.

  “Talk to me,” he demanded, knowing full well if she didn’t want to speak, she wouldn’t.

  “I’m really worried about the robbery at work. What did they think they would find? Did they think I’d be fool enough to use my accounts? I work in a sensitive area. I have procedures to follow. No phone. Cash only. Carla drummed it into me.”

  He was so relieved she had shared her thoughts he almost smiled, but managed to contain himself.

  She was intelligent, strong, and capable. With all her strength, there was something fragile about her. It was as though she stood alone, her against the world.

  “You know you can count on me. No matter what happens, I’ll stand by your side.” He slipped his hand in hers and was gratified when she held on tight, but she didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, she stared out the passenger window, making him wonder if she was too emotional to speak.

  She cleared her throat. “In my world, actions speak louder than words.”

  It sounded like a rebuke, but she squeezed his hand. The way she gripped him told him she wasn’t used to having someone watch her back. Whoever this Jake was, she didn’t trust him. When all this was over, he would check Jake out and if there was anything, even a parking ticket, he would make sure the bastard lost his job with Child Seekers.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A knot formed in Sinclair’s stomach as she stared up at the five-story PDE building. It was constructed of gray granite blocks and must be nearly a hundred years old. She seemed to remember that it used to be a hotel before Public Domain Energy purchased it and converted it into their headquarters.

  Michael maneuvered the old Ford pickup into a parking spot at the rear of the building. The square was well known to both of them. It had been their “home” when they were on the streets. She remembered every doorway where they’d slept, the good places to beg, and the best dumpsters to find food.

  She wore her jeans and one of Michael’s plaid shirts. It was long enough to hang over her waistband and conceal her weapon. They didn’t have access to any fancy disguises. The best she could do was cover her hair with a scarf Nadie had found. She would’ve also preferred to dress in something that more closely resembled a custodian’s uniform, but they didn’t have access to those clothes so they would have to wing it. When her stomach cramped again, she reminded herself that the PDE staff weren’t hunting them, just Lucy and her thugs.

  Michael wore a pair of sweats and a ragged shirt, which somehow accentuated his muscular arms. He pulled his baseball cap low over his brow and then grabbed his backpack. After rummaging through, he passed her a lanyard with a security card attached. PDE was printed in bold blue letters next to a photograph of a short, dark-haired man.

  “There’s a back door that requires me—”

  “This guy looks nothing like me. There is no way I’ll get past security with this.” She held up the ID.

  He opened the truck door. “It doesn’t have to look like you.” His tone implied he was explaining quantum physics to a child. “There’s no security checkpoint. Everyone in that building wears one. You’ll stand out if you don’t have it on. Besides, security guards hardly ever look at the picture.”

  “The words ‘hardly ever’ implies that sometimes they do.” She joined him as they headed toward the back door. “Did you recon this building when you were here before?”

  He nodded. “Once I realized this went a lot deeper than the head of a power company, I decided I would come back and take a look. It never occurred to me Portman would hit me with his car. I need you to block me from the camera.”

  She glanced at the half-globe security monitor up high on the wall by the entrance and positioned herself so she stood in front of Michael.

  He produced a computer and a small power screwdriver from his bag and removed the front of the panel. “While I’m doing this, you could flirt a bit.”

  “Flirt? I don’t know how to flirt, and even if I did, this wouldn’t be the time.”

  “I would’ve thought you’d be good at it, seeing as you only do casual relationships.” Using another tool that looked like a screwdriver but with a different tip, he attached three wires to the chip.

  “Is that criticism I hear in your voice?”

  “Not at all. It’s just a skill all women seem to have.” He produced a computer chip and inserted it into the circuit board.

  “I never learned. What do you think, they take girls aside in high school and teach them how to flick their hair? Not that it matters because I didn’t go to high school. Why are you trying to distract me, and why can’t we just slide our cards through the scanner?”

  “The original owners would’ve reported them lost, codes would’ve been changed. If we use them, we’d be in handcuffs within a minute. I’m rewriting the commands so anyone can access it.” He reattached the front of the panel, placed his computer and tools in his backpack, and flashed hi
s card. The door unlocked, and he pulled it open. “Come on.”

  He led the way through a maze of corridors until they reached a door with the word Maintenance inscribed in plain letters. He shoved her inside and turned on the overhead light.

  They were cramped into a small windowless room with cleaning supplies on shelfs at the back. Used clothing hung on a hook by the door.

  She grabbed a yellow apron and handed him a blue shirt made of heavy cotton. It had the letters PDE emblazoned on the right side. “Try this on.”

  The small confines of the space made dressing difficult. He shrugged into the top. It was a little on the small side and the buttons looked like they might pop open. He had obviously worked hard to get back into shape after his injuries. She had to admire not only his physique, but also his work ethic.

  He grabbed her waist and turned her, then tied her apron at the back. Once he was done, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer so her back was against his front. He kissed her neck. “Tonight,” he whispered.

  That one word brought up an image of him behind her, pounding into her as she came. It was the promise of another night of lovemaking.

  He released her and snatched a bucket with some window washing tools off the floor.

  She grasped a long-handled duster.

  He raised an eyebrow. “A maid with a duster? All you need is the little black outfit.”

  She gave him a hard look. “Remember, I’m armed.”

  One side of his mouth curved up in the beginnings of a smile. “You’re not into it. Okay. Moving on.”

  He eased the door open and checked there was no one in the corridor. Once he was sure they were safe, they exited the closet and headed for the stairs.

  “Human skin cells make up about seventy percent of dust. That means there’s always something that needs dusting.” He gave her a sideways glance.

  “What a disgusting thought. And why the hell are we talking about dust? We should be focused on the task at hand.”