Playing Jax [Wylde Shore 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Jan Graham

  He dragged the whiteboard into his office. There had to be a link somewhere in the mess of papers and reports spread out before him. Steve was a visual kind of guy. The best way to figure anything out was to draw it, create links, and see if any patterns formed. By the time all the information was transferred to the big, white oblong, the only obvious connection was the high school. All the victims, barring two, attended the local school. The two victims who didn’t attend the school were associated with kids who did…or ones that had been students within the last few years. It didn’t tell him anything. There was only one junior and one senior school in the area, so of course that link would exist.

  He stood staring at the one piece of information that didn’t fit in anywhere, that had no connection to anyone.

  Elizabeth Hastings had sought treatment at a hospital two hours away from the scene. According to Daniel, Ms. Hastings had medical records listed at fairly regular intervals up until three and a half years ago, then nothing. Nothing that is, until the night of the fire. It could be an unfortunate coincidence, but Steve doubted it. The name Hastings and drugs went hand in hand. They’d know soon though. Trevor Duncan was sending two detectives out to talk to her on Monday morning. Hopefully they’d get some answers.

  “So this is what your job entails, standing in the middle of the room and staring at scribbles on a whiteboard? How much do you get paid for doing that again?”

  Steve recognized the voice immediately. “Not enough. What brings you here, Miss Trouble?”

  Bethany Reid strolled into his office, looking like the sexy little hellcat she was, dressed in a short skirt, high boots, tight revealing top, and that damn belly ring on display, as usual. She bore an uncanny family resemblance to her Aunt Rhia, except Steve couldn’t imagine Rhia showing so much flesh in public. Now in private, that was a different matter.

  “I’ve brought you a present.” She threw a plastic bag toward him without warning.

  “Where the hell did you get this?” Steve studied the little crystal-shaped shards in the plastic bag.

  “Rachel went to a party last night. One of her friends ended up in hospital. To save the girl from getting into trouble, my ever-helpful little sixteen-year-old sister pocketed those little rocks then left before the police and ambulance arrived. Being the big bad black sheep of the family, Rachel asked me how to get rid of them. I told her I’d take care of it.” Bethany didn’t look impressed with her sister’s request. “So I thought, what better way to get rid of that shit than to give it to you.”

  “Rachel was at the party? Do your parents know she was there?” Steve couldn’t imagine Meg and Barry giving permission for Rachel to go to a party like the one from last night.

  “Not yet, but can I be there when you visit to tell them and interview Rachel?”

  “You know Rachel will hate you for this.”

  Bethany shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t like drugs. I don’t like that my sister even came into contact with them, and I don’t like that someone’s making and selling them here.” Beth inspected her long polished nails as she spoke.

  “How do you know that someone’s manufacturing drugs here, Beth?”

  “I hear things. I have a pretty face, so men tell me things. You know how it is.”

  “What have you heard and from who?” Steve liked Beth. She’d helped him find Angel four years ago. Bethany had given him valuable information then, and he hoped the same applied to what she was about to say now.

  “I met this guy in the city. He was trying to impress me, make himself out to be a big man. He said that soon he’d be able to keep me in a style I could become accustomed to because he was doing a deal that would make him lots of money. When I asked what the deal was, he said he was making meth. The business was being set up down here. And before you get all excited, I didn’t take note of his name and I don’t know where he’s from.”

  “You’re a big help.”

  “Don’t write me off just yet, I have more. He lives with a woman. He’s her boy-toy. She’s older and pretty vicious from what I hear, especially where he’s concerned. The last girl he convinced to sleep with him ended up in hospital, with her face nearly scratched off after the woman found out what was going on. She’s his connection to this area. That’s why they’re setting up down here. She knows where they can safely install the labs, has bought a place here, and is funding the operation. She also knows a science nerd, who is helping them. Apparently the scientist isn’t that willing to work with her, but she’s holding something over him, an emotional carrot of some description. That’s it. And no, I don’t know the woman’s name or who the little nerdy science kid is. Oh, and little nerdy science kid were his words, not mine.”

  “Can you give me a description of the guy you met? Or information about who might know his name? What about the name of the girl who was attacked for sleeping with him?”

  “Probably not. I would have to check that it didn’t jeopardize my job first.” The answer surprised Steve. He didn’t realize Bethany did anything other than attend parties and socialize. She made mini-skirts and tops that she sold online, but that seemed more like a hobby than an actual profession. She began to text as she spoke. “I should know in a few minutes.”

  “You don’t work, Beth, unless the mini-skirt business on the internet has suddenly turned a profit. Even then, giving me information shouldn’t cause any issues.”

  Bethany’s phone beeped as a response to her message arrived. Steve watched silently as she read it and sent a quick reply.

  “I thought you were smarter than that, Steve. I thought you would have figured me out by now. And I’ll have you know that the mini-skirt business is doing well. The two girls who work for me making the outfits make a good living from it. I don’t make a great deal, but it’s a good cover.” Bethany stood and walked to the door, closing it for privacy.

  “The internet business is a cover? You don’t make mini-skirts and barely there tops? What exactly do you do, sweetheart, because this is getting a little too cloak and dagger for my liking.”

  “I can’t sew to save my own life. I long for the day when the little skirts and tops aren’t needed, but until I turn into my frumpy mother I’m stuck with them.” Bethany resumed her seat and indicated for Steve to sit as well. He opted to lean against the front of his desk rather than sit behind it. He anticipated he may need something sturdy beneath him, because he assumed he was going to find out more about Bethany than he needed to know. “I work for Marcus Delany. Have you heard of him?”

  Of course Steve had heard of him. He’d even worked with him on a drug case once. Delany was an expert investigator. He was army trained, a retired Special Forces agent who now ran his own business. Delany was the man to go to if you needed a sensitive issue investigated or action taken in an overseas trouble spot. He’d retrieved kidnapped children taken out of the country during custody battles, captured criminals who fled overseas to try and avoid justice, and had infiltrated overseas governments to gain information regarding terrorist activities. It was rumored that if Delany couldn’t find out what was going on in the world of terror, crime, and illegal dealings, then no one could. Most of Delany’s work was contracted by the federal and sometimes state governments. Anything that may have political fallout was outsourced to Delany and his team.

  The man was a ghost. People rarely saw him, spoke to him or even knew he existed. Steve had been Delany’s contact for an import investigation the State Police had outsourced. “Import” meaning find this renegade drug dealer and bring him back into the country so he could be charged and sent to prison. Delany still kept tabs on Steve years later. The secretive friendship was unnerving at times, but it was better to be considered Marcus’s friend than his enemy

  “Marcus Delany is your boss?” A sudden rush of concern swept over him. He didn’t want to believe Bethany was telling the truth. If she worked for Delany then her life would never be truly hers. She would live in constant danger. Damn, she was alr
eady living in danger.

  “Yes. I met him when I was seventeen. He liked me, thought I was cute and funny and showed potential. I started working for him when I turned eighteen. I didn’t go on holidays to Bali like everyone thought I did when I left school. I went and stayed with Marcus. He taught me a few important skills, and then I came home. My first assignment arrived about a week after I got back. I’m good at espionage. Who knew a girl who enjoyed listening to gossip, asking all the right questions, and reading the actions of others could make a career out of doing something she found amusing?”

  “It’s not something to joke over, Bethany. Do you know the sort of danger you’re in working with Delany? Do your parents know?”

  He thought about the years he had known her. She’d always been cheeky and vivacious. Her grades at school had been a constant source of concern for Meg and Barry, as had the fact she refused to even apply to attend university when she finished school. Bethany was the local party girl, known for her wild antics and provocative dress sense. She was the flighty, young girl who knew all the gossip around town.

  As Steve looked at her, he suddenly realized her younger years had provided her with the perfect cover to spy on people. Nobody would think she had a brain in her head, she wasn’t threatening, and she could ask a question in such a way that appeared to be innocent interest. The disinterest in her response to deeper, more adult conversation was disarming. Steve knew he’d spoken with Barry about local issues that may be considered sensitive, not concerned that Beth was in hearing distance. After all, everyone knew Beth wasn’t interested in anything that didn’t concern her.

  She was the perfect little information gatherer, and that must have been what Marcus had seen in her.

  “I’m not in any more danger than I would be if I was just going out and partying. Marcus makes sure I’m safe, and I don’t work alone. There are others watching me when I’m on a case. As for Mum and Dad…no, they don’t know, and you won’t be telling them. There are consequences for you being let in on my secret. Marcus has high expectations for the people he trusts. You should know that, Steve. You worked with him.” Bethany smiled at him with a glint of knowing in her eye.

  He had worked with Marcus, and he realized the consequences for everyone if Bethany’s work was exposed. Steve also assumed, now he was privy to the little secret, at some point Marcus would contact him, just to ensure Steve understood what was at stake.

  “Tell Marcus I look forward to catching up with him again sometime soon.” Steve shook his head in disbelief. Bethany Reid was a modern-day spy. Some things in life were totally unexpected, and this was one of them.

  “I will, and I’ll let you know if I hear anything more about the drug situation.” Bethany rose from her chair, walked to the whiteboard and wrote in the top left hand corner. She drew a heart and smiley face on either side of the words, turned around, blew Steve a kiss, and then left the office.

  Steve finally let his fingers relax. He didn’t know when he’d gripped the lip of his desk or why. Maybe it had been to steady himself when she’d mentioned Delany or her role as spy. It might have been because of the fear he suddenly had for his friend’s young daughter and the thought of the potential danger that surrounded her.

  Information swam around his head, trying to lodge in a place of understanding. He stared at the name on the board. Rebecca Purcell, address unknown. Presumably the woman who’d had her face half scratched off by a jealous older woman. She should be easy enough to track down. Hopefully, once they spoke to her, she could identify the woman who’d attacked her and the young man she’d slept with. That would give Steve and Carlie the lead they needed to shut the drug labs down before anyone else got hurt.

  He added the information to the board. So they were looking for a woman with local connections who’d purchased property in the area, and who knew a scientist. It wouldn’t be hard to track the individuals down. At least he didn’t think it would. Getting evidence against them might be a different matter.

  Bethany couldn’t testify, not with her association to Delany. And really, her evidence would only be hearsay. They needed proof about what was going on. He was confident it would come. Someone would slip up somewhere. He fingered the plastic bag Bethany had given him. She was smart. The little bag of ice was sealed inside a larger bag, one presumably that Beth had placed it in to preserve evidence. Hopefully they would get fingerprints off the inner bag. They may also get the actual breakdown of what chemicals were used in the cooking of the stuff, which might save some lives.

  There was one more thing he wanted to do along the saving lives line. Harper Roderick had been avoiding him. She hadn’t returned his calls about the drug education program at the school. He decided to throw the cat amongst the pigeons and see if he could get the elusive high school principle to show her colors where the children of the community were concerned. He dialed the local media contacts he often used when he needed to spread the word about criminal activity in the area. Steve would hold a press conference. There’d only be about five members of the press in attendance, but that would do. He wasn’t interested in turning the day’s events into a three-ring circus. He just wanted to stir the community pot and see what information came back to him.

  He worked on the address he’d give to the three print and two TV journalists that would arrive at the hospital in two hours’ time. His receptionist was contacting Dr. Shore to see if he would give a medical update on the victims while Steve concentrated on the threat to the community’s young people. He knew he needed to choose his words carefully. There were specific reactions he needed to elicit, and certain responses he hoped to achieve from the local community, in particular, parents.

  An hour later he read over the announcement’s key points. The police were conducting a drug education program starting at the high school the moment the principal gave her approval and set up the timetable so all students could attend. That would certainly get Ms. Roderick to call him. For children affected adversely by the loss or hospitalization of friends, the school had employed a new social worker. Students could make an appointment to see Miss Rhiannon McCabe during school hours, and no one would be turned away. That would get up Ms. Roderick’s nose and hopefully get Rhia some more students to see. Finally he would advise of a possible local connection with manufacture and sale of the drug. He hoped that would inspire community members to report anything unusual in the area.

  Steve put on the uniform he kept at the office. Official protocol by the organization dictated that uniforms be worn at moments like press conferences, official meetings, presentation ceremonies, and other publicity events or functions. He hated the uniform. He much preferred his jeans and T-shirt.

  The reception staff wolf-whistled him as he left the building. The two women always said he looked good, that they couldn’t resist a man in uniform. He’d never thought about it until now, as he strode to the police car to drive to the hospital Steve wondered if all women found it hard to resist a man in uniform. He decided to test the theory out after the press conference. He’d wear the uniform home to Rhia. He checked the belt of his trousers and smiled. The leather pouch at the back of the belt held on his favorite police-issued piece of equipment. He pondered the idea as he walked into the hospital conference room.

  Maybe it was too soon to break out the handcuffs.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rhia’s breath hitched in her throat as she watched Steve get out of the car. He always appeared handsome, but when she saw him in uniform, a spill of moisture eased from her as her pussy clenched in reaction. Darn, he looked sexier than any man she’d ever laid eyes on.

  His shoulders seemed broader, his hips narrower. The pants fitted perfectly, and she imagined his buttocks would be as his thighs were, subtly outlined rather than tightly defined. He seemed taller, more upright as he walked with purpose toward where she stood on her small porch. Rhia moistened her lips when he smiled at her, his gaze roving across her body before meeting her
eyes.

  His expression was one of strength and gentle determination. With his hair slicked back under his hat, his angular features and almond-shaped eyes became enhanced. The closer he came, the quicker her breath left her body. His eyes appeared to be a deeper blue, accentuated by the color of the navy uniform. She thought she might explode with desire where she stood. He was just too stunning for words.

  “You might want to close your mouth, sexy. I’d hate you to swallow a fly.” When he reached her, Steve didn’t break his stride. He merely clasped her hand and dragged her back inside the house.

  “You’re in uniform.” She knew it was lame. She should have said something more enlightening, less obvious. It just seemed her brain didn’t want to work.

  He pulled her into his arms, discarding his hat onto the coffee table. As he did, a few wayward strands of hair fell forward to kiss his cheek. Dear Lord, she was about to pass out. How could an out-of-control piece of hair make a man even sexier than he naturally was? She raised her hand to brush the curl aside. Steve lowered his face to her, continuing past her hand until his lips contacted with hers.

  “I take it you like the uniform?” He spoke against her lips, taking them in a deep kiss before she could answer.

  Oh yes, she liked the uniform. She liked everything about him. She liked the cheeky strand of hair, the deep blue of his eyes which conveyed his hunger for her, the feel of his erection swelling under his pants and pressing into her, and the kiss. She loved the kiss…hot, passionate, and totally devouring. He slid one hand up her thigh, only to still when he reached between her legs.

  “You’re not wearing underpants, sweetheart. Why is that?”

  “I was waiting for you to come home. I thought you might like it.” He made a low, growling noise beside her neck as he nuzzled his face into her.