We All Sleep Alone

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We All Sleep Alone Page 34

by Calle J. Brookes


  “I’m in a bit of a bind, and you’re my ticket out of here.” He stepped close enough to grab again, if needed.

  “What do you want from me?”

  The fear and nerves were back in her voice. Poor kid. But figuring out what the hell had happened to him vs. momentary fear for her? No brainer. If his arrival at this place had been something more sinister than a joke, the last thing he’d want to do is involve some innocent woman in the shit. So, yeah, a bit of fear for her, compared to someone getting dead? She’d get over it. “The keys and a computer. That’s all I need.”

  She took a deep breath, started to say something, and then hesitated. “Come inside; my husband—he’s inside. He’ll help you. He’s a unit chief with PAVAD. He can help. Can help.”

  “Honey, the last man who got involved in whatever shit this is got himself dead. So no offense if I pass on your offer; that’ll keep your husband nice and safe. Keys.” He snatched her keys from her hand before she could react. “Now, computer. I’ll be generous—I’ll only take one. How’s that?” He grabbed the strap of one computer bag.

  She exhaled, dug her fingers into his arm. “No. There’s confidential information on there. You can’t have it. I just can’t give it to you.”

  Well, he hadn’t expected that. Her husband should have taught her to cooperate with carjackers. Car-requisitioners. Especially requisitioners who flashed FBI badges. It was a hell of a lot less risky than fighting. If he ever had a wife he’d make damned sure she could take care of herself.

  He didn’t have time for this, and as soon as he took her car she’d be making a big stink. Then they’d probably close the gate before he even got down to the lowest level. He pulled his spare weapon from the holster on his back. “Damn, girl. Can’t you be a bit more cooperative? I’m in trouble here; I need to get out of it. It’s for the good of the many. I’ll explain it all after I’ve done what needs done. Will even bring your car back, freshly washed and detailed. Even put a flame strip down the side to match that hair of yours. How’s that?”

  SHE could still feel the sleaze of his touch on her skin.

  Her team with PAVAD—the FBI’s Prevention & Analysis of Violent Acts Division—had spent the last week chasing down a nasty creep who got his rocks off killing blonde women. They’d caught him, but Al had had the unenviable thrill of being prime bait.

  She was exhausted. All she wanted to do was find her car—it had been a week since she’d left it—and go home. Hopefully that home would be quiet and Al could sleep for a week. It should be empty, at this time of day—her brother and new sister-in-law Jules both worked at PAVAD with Al; Ruthie, her little niece, should be with Al’s mother for the day.

  Sometimes the job just sucked, and this case had definitely been one of them. She just wanted to sleep the memory of it away for a while. A long while.

  The parking lot adjacent to the PAVAD building seemed ten times as huge as Al knew it to be. And of course, she’d parked clear across the level. Or maybe it was the level above? She couldn’t remember, and the parking garage was shared between PAVAD and the regular St. Louis Field Office. Her car looked like so many others.

  She kept walking, her bag loading her down. Had she ever ached as much as she did now? She’d tackled the creep and sent them both out a second story window; now she felt it. Had she ever been this exhausted?

  Yeah, back when her brother and Jules had been kidnapped at Thanksgiving three months ago.

  And then again when her partner Paige and Jules were in the hands of that same madman; a madman who’d once been Al’s friend. She had been one of the searchers tirelessly hunting for the people she loved. They’d found them, but she would never forget those few days.

  She found it in the back corner of the level. What had she been thinking when she’d parked there? Carrie, her team leader’s wife and one of Al’s closest friends, was getting out of her own SUV directly next to Al’s car. She thought about calling out to her friend, but she was just way too tired; Carrie hadn’t seen her yet. They’d eventually pass each other. So why call out?

  Sebastian was right there. Right behind his wife. How had he beaten Al out of the building? When she’d left the bullpen, he’d been in his office half-buried under reams of paperwork. Their cases generated a lot of crap paperwork.

  A week away from Carrie had probably made him antsy for his wife. They’d not even been married six months, and Al suspected they’d spent almost as much time apart as they had together. It was the nature of the job.

  Carrie Lorcan was one heck of a lucky woman. Something Al had thought many times before. Al loved Carrie’s husband, too—he was probably one of the closest friends she’d ever had. She watched the couple for a moment, feeling that bit of envy and loneliness that had been plaguing her for a while. Since Thanksgiving, at least, when her oldest brother Malachi and Jules had first gotten together. In the weeks since, Al had felt a bit rootless. Edgy. And she couldn’t shake it. She was happy for Jules and Mal and Carrie and Sebastian. And for all the other couples who’d found each other through PAVAD.

  Inner-Bureau romances were often frowned on, but the division was full of them lately. Even the director in charge of PAVAD had recently married the head of the forensics department. Romances in PAVAD seemed to work, for some reason.

  But not for her.

  Romances had never worked for her. She was fine with that—the people she loved were happy. That was all that mattered.

  Carrie cried out. Carrie was fighting him. Carrie wouldn’t fight Sebastian.

  And Sebastian would never hurt Carrie. No matter what.

  Al sped up, every instinct she possessed telling her this was wrong. Something wasn’t right.

  She was close enough now that Carrie could see her, and there was confusion and pleading on the younger woman’s face.

  Carrie was terrified. And now Al understood. The man had Sebastian’s face; she couldn’t deny that.

  But it definitely wasn’t Sebastian Lorcan pointing a .38 at Carrie.

  “Carrie!” Something plowed into him from the side, and knocked both him and the girl against the car. “Run!”

  He had his hands full, and he knew it. Damn it, all he’d wanted was the car and the computer. He tightened his hold on the redhead, and pulled her between him and this new threat.

  He nearly swallowed his tongue when he looked up. Had he thought the redhead was smoking hot? The blonde pointing a gun at him blew the redhead out of the water. Probably several times over. And that was saying a lot. “Well, sweetheart. Now this is going to be fun...”

  He held his own weapon just as steady.

  “Let her go.” The blonde spoke with cool experience and he admired that. “She’s never hurt anyone.”

  “Never said she did. I think we both know we have two options here. I take Red and go for a drive, alone, and you let me. Or...we all climb into this pretty little truck and get to know each other a hell of a lot better. I’d prefer the latter. Wouldn’t any red-blooded male?” A joke, but they didn’t have to know that. Hell, he’d take either one of them if they were willing—if Red hadn’t claimed to have a husband. This was a royal fuck up on his part—and he’d had quite a few in his life, so he definitely recognized fuck up when he saw it—and now there was no way he was leaving there without an insurance policy. A living, breathing, female-type insurance policy. But which one?

  “I don’t know who you are, or why you’re doing this, or why you’ve targeted Carrie, but you have to know you’re not leaving here. At least not alive.” She never faltered, and he’d admit he was impressed. Barbie had balls. And some serious training.

  “Maybe. But if I don’t leave here sometime soon, someone else could get up shit creek, possibly me. So...” He put the gun toward the redhead, feeling like a big and total ass when she shook even harder. This was so not how he’d wanted to play this. “I suggest you put that down, and climb that luscious ass of yours into the car. Back passenger. You have ten seconds to cooper
ate. Ten, nine...”

  Also by CALLE J BROOKES

  ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

  * * *

  PAVAD: FBI ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

  * * *

  Beginning (Prequel 1)

  Waiting (Prequel 2)

  * * *

  Watching

  Wanting

  Second Chances

  Hunting

  Running

  Redeeming

  Revealing

  Stalking

  Ghosting

  Burning

  Gathering

  Falling

  Hiding

  Seeking

  * * *

  FINLEY CREEK SERIES

  * * *

  TRILOGY ONE (TEXAS STATE POLICE)

  * * *

  Her Best Friend’s Keeper

  Shelter from the Storm

  The Price of Silence

  * * *

  TRILOGY TWO (FINLEY CREEK GENERAL)

  * * *

  If the Dark Wins

  Wounds That Won’t Heal

  Hope for Finley Creek (bonus novella)

  As the Night Ends

  * * *

  TRILOGY THREE (FINLEY CREEK DISASTER)

  * * *

  Before the Rain Breaks

  Lost in the Wind

  Walk Through the Fire

  We All Sleep Alone

  * * *

  MASTERSON COUNTY NOVELLA SERIES

  * * *

  Seeking the Sheriff

  Discovering the Doctor

  Ruining the Rancher

  Denying the Devil

  * * *

  SMALL-TOWN SHERIFFS

  Holding the Truth

  * * *

  SUSPENSE/THRILLER

  * * *

  PAVAD: FBI CASE FILES

  * * *

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0001

  “Knocked Out”

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0002

  “Knocked Down”

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0003

  “Knocked Around”

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0004

  “White Out”

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0005

  “Buried Secrets”

  * * *

  Calle has several free reads available at

  www.CalleJBrookesReads.com

  * * *

  For my grandfather, the best man I have ever known.

  You will be missed.

  Oct. 2015

  * * *

  For my grandmother, who gave me the courage to try. Without you and your love of romance, I never would have made it this far.

  Feb. 2016

  * * *

  For my papaw, whose children loved him deeply, and will always miss him.

  Oct. 2017

  * * *

  Calle J. Brookes enjoys crafting paranormal romance and romantic suspense. She reads almost every genre except horror. She spends most of her time juggling family life and writing while reminding herself that she can’t spend all of her time in the worlds found within books. CJ loves to be contacted by her readers via email and at www.CalleJBrookes.com. When not at home writing stories of adventure and wrangling with two border collies and a beagle puppy, CJ is off in her RV somewhere exploring the beautiful world we live in, along with her husband of she can’t remember how many years and their child.

 

 

 


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