Rory: Finding His Match (Big 3 Security Book 4)
Page 1
Rory
PJ Fiala
Rolling Thunder Publishing
Contents
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DEDICATION
Copyright
ALSO BY PJ FIALA
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Sneak Peek
Defending Keirnan, GHOST Book One
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ALSO BY PJ FIALA
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Meet PJ
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DEDICATION
I’ve had so many wonderful people come into my life and I want you all to know how much I appreciate it. From each and every reader who takes the time out of their days to read my stories and leave reviews, thank you.
My beautiful, smart and fun Road Queens, who play games with me, post fun memes, keep the conversation rolling and help me create these captivating characters, places, businesses and more. Thank you ladies for your ideas, support and love. The following characters and places were created by:
Rory's nickname Ace - Melissa Hultz
Rory's siblings - Rory's siblings are Rochelle (sister) named by Jo West
Rourke (brother) and Rowan (sister) named by AnneMarie Dodds
Captain Jason (Jase) Peters - named by Kristi Hombs-Kopydlowski
Detective Callan Waters - named by Annemieke Westerbeek
Detective Samuel Bowers - named by Nicky Ortiz
Officer Anderson (Ty) Tyler - named by Cynthia Reifel
Officer Paul Delhurst - named by Debbie Douglas-Moncrief
Alice's partner in Indy - Ben Michaels - named by Annemieke Westerbeek
Informants: Twitch; ringtone "Close To My Enemies" by Kalado - named by Lisa Martin
Pigeon; Ringtone Friends in Low Places - named by Nicky Ortiz and Patricia Case
Realtor - Margery Van Steel of Van Steel Realty - named by Kerry Harteker
Rush Trucking - Owner Geoff Rush - named by Nicky Ortiz and Lynda Gettier
Harley was created and named by Karen Hawk, Kristi Hombs Kopydlowski, Kerry Harteker, Kim Ruiz and Val Clarizio.
A special thank you to Marijane Diodati, my amazing editor and Teresa Ellett Russ, my PR assistant.
Thank you to Becky McGraw of Cover Me Photography and Design for the amazing cover. It all comes together because of these exceptional ladies.
Last but not least, my family for the love and sacrifices they have made and continue to make to help me achieve this dream, especially my husband and best friend, Gene. Words can never express how much you mean to me.
To our veterans and current serving members of our armed forces, police and fire departments, thank you ladies and gentlemen for your hard work and sacrifices; it’s with gratitude and thankfulness that I mention you in this forward.
Copyright
Copyright © 2020 by PJ Fiala
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Publisher’s note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America
First published 2020
Fiala, PJ
Rory:Finding His Match / PJ Fiala
p. cm.
1. Romance—Fiction. 2. Romance—Suspense. 3. Romance - Military
I. Title – Rory:Finding His Match
ALSO BY PJ FIALA
Click here to see a list of all of my books with the blurbs.
Contemporary Romance
Rolling Thunder Series
Moving to Love, Book 1
Moving to Hope, Book 2
Moving to Forever, Book 3
Moving to Desire, Book 4
Moving to You, Book 5
Moving Home, Book 6
Second Chances Series
Designing Samantha’s Love, Book 1
Securing Kiera’s Love, Book 2
Military Romantic Suspense
Bluegrass Security Series
Heart Thief, Book One
Finish Line, Book Two
Lethal Love, Book Three
Big 3 Security
Ford: Finding His Fire Book One
Lincoln: Finding His Mark Book Two
Dodge: Finding His Jewel Book Three
Rory: Finding His Match Book Four
GHOST
Defending Keirnan, GHOST Book One
Defending Sophie, GHOST Book Two
Defending Roxanne, GHOST Book Three
Defending Yvette, GHOST Book Four
Defending Bridget, GHOST Book Five
1
Driving through the eastern side of town, dog-ass tired and ready for bed, Rory glanced over at the gas station parking lot as he neared the intersection. Suspicious of what looked like a drug deal going down, he quickly turned into the lot directing his headlights at two men exchanging a tiny bag for money.
Stopping, close to the men near the convenience store, Rory exited his vehicle and began walking toward them when they took off running in different directions. Choosing to follow the man who'd taken the money, he kept pace the best he could; but he was losing ground to the spry, lanky drug dealer, who was likely scared and surely not interested in spending the night in jail.
He was likely a low-level dealer, but with enough pressure sometimes these guys gave up a higher-up or two.
A gunshot rang out, then another. Diving behind a dumpster, which provided some cover, but likely not enough, he glanced around the side in the direction of the shots. His heartbeat quickened, but luckily his senses seemed to intensify as the adrenaline pumped through his body.
Seeing the flash of dark clothing duck behind the Longstone Apartment building before him, he crouched low and squat-walked to the side of the building, then slowly moved in the direction of his perp. His gun was out and pointed before him, when his ears heard a slight crunching of feet on gravel. Slowly raising himself up, he pointed his gun toward the corner of the building and sent up a quick prayer to be spot-on today. No accidents.
A gunshot sounded, and a bullet hit the building about a foot above his head from the direction his perp had run. Quickly dropping to the ground, he slowly let out a breath, inhaled again and scrambled to the edge o
f the second apartment building, adjacent to Longstone, which he thought was the direction of the shot.
Standing quickly and twisting his body so he was leading with his right hand holding his gun, he moved around the building, the brick walls scratching his back as he hovered close.
Movement from the shadows just a couple of feet in front of him and a flash of metal aimed at his head had him leveling his gun back at this new target.
"DEA." She half-whispered, half-yelled. Her voice was tight, her emotions likely as high as his.
"Lynyrd Station PD." He responded. Then wondered where in the hell a DEA Special Agent had come from and why. Lynyrd Station PD didn't have the luxury of a DEA agent's help.
They stood for a few seconds, each assessing the other, guns leveled on the other, emotions still high.
She stepped into the sliver of light that shone from the overhead streetlights and he damned near dropped his weapon. Familiar eyes stared back at him, the hypnotic green he remembered from years ago. Before he'd left the Marines. Before he'd been married to Debra.
He watched those mesmerizing eyes change as she recognized him, then worried that the emotion he saw in them was more hatred than friendliness or happiness, his heart hammered once more in his chest.
"Beggs, what the fuck are you doing here?" he snapped.
"I'm chasing a lead, the same as you I suspect."
A bullet hit the corner of the building they now stood alongside of and pieces of brick rained down on him. His instinct to protect took over and he wrapped his arm around Beggs and shoved her against the wall, shielding her with his body.
He turned then to give chase, but Beggs shoved him out of the way. "Asshole."
Then she took off running to yet another apartment building across the alley, small expanse of lawn which served as the apartment complexes' green space and was surrounded by four three story apartment buildings, then she disappeared under the stairwell. Giving pursuit he followed in her wake but was met with more shooting then nothing but silence. Hiding under a stairwell, trying to catch his breath, and forcing his brain to catch up with events, he slightly shook his head and listened. Nothing.
Venturing out from his hiding spot he looked around for Beggs but didn't see the direction she'd gone or the perp they'd been following after the last shot. Ugly doubts crawled through his brain that he was ineffective at his job as he heaved himself off the wall he'd pressed himself against and quietly turned the corner, which led him back to the gas station where it'd all began this evening.
A cruiser had pulled up behind his car, and another was just now racing toward the station. Recognizing the officer interviewing two witnesses he walked toward them, all the while chastising himself for getting a tad out of shape and unable to chase a doper, even though he was only 42 now. The guys would likely have a bit of fun with him this week, but that he could take, he'd given his share over the years.
"Richards." One of the newly arrived officers, Anderson Tyler, walked toward him, his strides long and his gait determined.
"Ty, what do you have?"
"Calls coming into the station, gunshots hitting buildings, tenants in the apartments are scared and sick of the crime, the station is going nuts. Then someone calls in your plates and says they saw you running after someone. Needless to say, the Captain isn't happy; you went in without backup and we have more unhappy citizens. What do you have?"
He took a deep breath and looked into Ty's tired eyes. They'd all been putting in sixty to eighty hours a week recently and it was taking its toll on all of them.
"I came into the parking lot because I was pretty sure I saw a drug deal going down. Took off on foot to chase the dealer and ran into a DEA Special Agent. Anything at the station on that?"
The big man shook his head. He was easily six foot two or more, but his broad shoulders and massive arms made him appear larger than life.
"Nothing. Ask the Captain. " He pointed to the other officer, Jerry Robards, and said, "I'll go help Jerry interview witnesses. The Captain wants to see you."
"Yeah. I bet he does."
He let out a long breath and dragged his sorry, tired ass to his car. Captain Jason Peters was a great boss, low key, knowledgeable and easy to deal with. Unless he was pissed off. Then, he could chew on your ass for hours and not show signs of getting tired. Rory feared that's what was about to happen, and quite frankly, he was too fucking exhausted to have his ass chewed on. It was a recipe for disaster. And where in the fuck did Beggs go? That was something he'd not been able to wrap his mind around and he didn't know how to get in touch with her, either. But she'd said, DEA, so he would start with the Chicago DEA Division. Indiana was one of three states in that Division. To be here she likely was stationed at a DEA Office in one of them.
2
Fucking Rory Richards. Doesn't that just beat the shit out of a dead dog? Flipping irritating. Bastard never called her even though he’d promised he would. They'd dated for over two months then she was transferred to a different base in Arizona and he stayed in South Carolina. The first week, she thought he was just busy and so was she, going through the new paperwork and learning all the new faces and places. But then the second week rolled around and no call, then the third. She kept herself busy with duties on base and even went so far as to volunteer for a couple of extra duties to keep herself occupied. Then she realized he wasn't going to call, ever. Damned if she'd break down and call him, she had pride. Six months later she heard he’d married, and she went on a wild drunk with some battle-buddies, girlfriends she'd met on base and it took her a couple of days to actually sober out. Then, she put Rory Fucking Richards out of her mind and focused on her job.
And for all of that with Rory, she never thought to ask him where he was from and she never looked back to see where he ended up. Coming face-to-face with him last night was a shock to her system for sure. Though it was dark, he still had those same piercing blue eyes she remembered. That same dark hair and that presence. Oh, that's what rankled more than anything. Seeing him again stirred things in her.
Tossing her belongings into her overnight bag, she grabbed her shampoo and conditioner from the shower and threw them into the baggies she always packed them in, then into the bag with the rest of her stuff, she was ready. One more quick look around and she was satisfied she could go back home to Indianapolis and forget, once again, Rory Fucking Richards.
Hefting her overnight bag over her shoulder, she picked up the checkout notice that had been pushed under her door, then folded it neatly and tucked it in the side pouch of her bag to make sure she turned it into the Office for reimbursement when she got back. Opening the door, the cool, crisp fall air woke her up like nothing else could, except for that cup of coffee she was dying for. The diner connected to the motel she was staying at would no doubt have it; though it was likely not to the caliber she was used to, she'd take it. It always took two or three cups for her to get her bearings in the morning.
Walking down the sidewalk to the diner, she opened the door and was hit with the warmth of the room and the aroma of bacon and eggs. Her stomach rumbled, but she had no intention of staying any longer than she needed to. Her lead from her informant last night was nothing more than a setup and she was particularly pissed off that he'd double-crossed her. She'd deal with him when she got back, too.
"Can I help you?"
A pretty young waitress with bright, shiny eyes and long blond hair, pulled back into a ponytail, asked her.
"Ah, yes, coffee. Black. In a to-go cup, please."
"You got it." The perky gal said as she immediately turned to begin filling up a paper cup.
Pulling a five dollar bill from her wallet inside her purse, she lay it on the counter and watched as the young lady continued to fill her cup, set the plastic white top on it and checked it to make sure it was secure. Turning toward her, she set her cup on the counter, smiled and asked, "Did you want anything to go with it? Our special this morning is a bagel, cream cheese and a
side of bacon for $3.00.
"That sounds delicious, but I don't eat breakfast until around ten o'clock; I need my coffee first. Thank you though." She picked up her coffee, then said, "Keep the change." And headed toward the door.
Opening her car door and setting her cup in the console, she reached around the driver's seat, dropped her bag into the backseat, then settled in for her 170-mile trip back to Indy.
Starting her car and pulling out of her space, her phone rang, and she said, "Answer call."
A beep sounded. "Tucker," she answered.
"Al, I've got a job for you. The Lynyrd Station PD just asked for assistance from DEA. They're dealing with a mighty drug issue and since you're in town, I told them to expect you this morning. You'll be there until you can help them solve this problem. I think it mirrors our case in that the drugs filtering into Lynyrd Station are likely coming from that dealer and supplier you've been trying to nab."
" I know you’re the Special Agent in Charge, Ben, but please, no. I don't want to be out of the Office again so soon."
"No one does, Al, but you're needed and you're there. This is what we do. Offices like ours, even in a city the size of Indy, don’t just get to handle the inner-city cases like drug gangs. Al, you know all of us are tasked to help rural areas that can’t afford to handle these drug cases or don’t have the people they need. Keep me updated.”