G-Men: The Series

by ANDREA SMITH

  “What are your plans for the holidays?” I asked him.

  “I leave tomorrow to fly home to Naples. I’m just going to chill with the fam, catch up on my reading, do a bit of partying, I’m sure.”

  “I bet Florida’s nice about now,” I commented.

  “Yes. I’m definitely going to do some beach time. Why don’t you think about coming down for a few days?”

  “Oh, I appreciate the invitation and trust me, there’s no place I’d rather not be for the next few weeks than D.C., but my mother would have a fit.”

  “I understand,” he said, taking a swig of his beer. “You have my cell phone number. If you should change your mind, please call. My father has a private jet. It would be no problem to send our pilot to pick you up. I really mean it.”

  The truth was, I knew he did. Kyzer was simply one of the nicest people I’d met of the male gender in a very, very long time.

  “I promise,” I said, taking his hand into mine. “You’ve become such a good friend to me. I really appreciate your chauffeuring me around like you have.”

  “Nonsense,” he said, waving his hand at me to let me know that it was no problem. “I don’t like the fact someone’s violated your feeling of security. I hope things work out.”

  I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that, but I didn’t have much time to ponder it when the doorbell rang. Our pizza was here.

  Kyzer and I devoured the pizza, talking about our families, our classes and our roommates. He was so congenial and funny. I was so comfortable around him. Before I realized it, I’d sipped another glass of wine and Kyzer had downed another beer.

  It was nearly 6:00 p.m. and I hadn’t heard a thing from Slate, but then I saw that my cell phone battery had died.

  Oops!

  I hurriedly put it on the charger in the kitchen, just as someone pressed the doorbell to the apartment multiple times, and immediately began pounding on the door.

  “I’m coming,” I hollered, as I opened the door to a very pissed-off Slate.

  “Slate,” I started.

  “What the fuck’s with your phone?” he snapped, barging into the apartment, totally bent out of shape.

  “I’m sorry,” I replied, moving to close the door, “I just saw that the battery had died.”

  I saw someone else cross over the threshold just as I was ready to shut the door. It was Taz.

  Sweet.

  I backed out of his way as he came into the room, immediately eyeing Kyzer, as if he was some sort of a perpetrator. I felt my cheeks flush. I was embarrassed that Slate had come barging into my apartment like a worried father. That wasn’t his place.

  I had nothing left to do but to introduce Kyzer to my step-father and Taz. Why in the hell had Slate brought Taz anyway?

  They both nodded to Kyzer, neither one of them particularly friendly. It didn’t take long for Kyzer to get the hint.

  “Well,” he said, grabbing his jacket and putting it on, “I’ll be taking off now. Remember what I said Lindsey, if you want to spend some time in Naples, the invitation’s open.”

  I nodded mutely.

  “Mr. Slater, nice meeting you,” he said, shaking Slate’s hand again. “You too, Mr. Matthews.”

  “Uh huh,” Taz grunted, unimpressed with Kyzer’s manners.

  “Have a great holiday, Kyzer. Thanks again for chauffeuring me around this week.”

  I walked him to the door, opening it for him. I could still feel Slate and Taz’s eyes on us.

  Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!

  “It was my pleasure,” he said giving me a dazzling smile.

  He leaned down and gave me a soft, sweet kiss on the lips. “Have a wonderful holiday with your family. I’ll keep in touch in case you change your mind about coming to Naples for a few days.”

  “Thank you,” I murmured, feeling my cheeks flush. I heard Taz clear his throat behind us.

  Kyzer gave me a quick hug and then he was gone. I was mesmerized by his sweetness. He had, in his own way, become my protector over the past several days. He’d looked after me, making sure that I was delivered and picked up from my classes. He hadn’t delved into the specifics of my situation, respecting my need for privacy regarding the incident.

  After I shut the door, I turned around to face my audience. Taz’s face was set in stone. Slate, on the other hand, had a shit-eating grin going on.

  chapter 11

  The ride back to Falls Church with Slate and Taz was fairly quiet. I sat in the back seat of Slate’s double cab and leafed through the current issue of Cosmo.

  My cell phone went off several times. Each time it was Kyzer, asking me where I was and telling me over and over again how great it would be if I could come to Naples over the holidays.

  I could tell Taz’s ears were burning, trying to overhear what was being said. I took extreme delight in it. I even purposely exaggerated my tone with Kyzer, being all flirtatious and giddy. At one point, I heard Taz mumble something to Slate about “wimp dudes being pussy-whipped.” I wanted to laugh out loud, but I didn’t dare.

  When I got home, Mom literally flew out of the house to greet me. She acted as if she hadn’t seen me in months, versus just a few weeks. I knew what that was about. She suspected Daddy was behind the break-in of my car; she was worried. Slate asked me for my cell phone.

  “I need to take the battery out of this, Lindsey. It can be GPS tracked. You need to use one of our phones while you’re here, okay?”

  I nodded. I hated being without my phone. I got settled in and played with Bryce most of the afternoon. Mom and I made plans to go Christmas shopping the following day. I’d done nothing in the way of shopping. Mom, Bryce and I shopped the following day from dawn to dusk. I finished all of my Christmas shopping. We even did a Santa Claus stop for Bryce, perching him on Santa’s lap for a picture.

  Darcy called me in the evening. She picked me up and we went out clubbing for a while. I shared with her what had happened that evening when Slate came to pick me up at the apartment with Taz in tow.

  “You’ve got to be shitting,” she cried. “That’s absolutely so fucking perfect.”

  “Here’s the great thing,” I said, “Mom and Slate are having a Christmas Eve get-together. Taz is invited. I’m waiting to see who he brings this time.”

  We both dissolved into laughter at that one.

  Christmas Eve turned out to be a sunny, but extremely chilly, day. I spent the morning helping Mom wrap all of the Christmas presents.

  “Boy, Bryce is making out like a bandit, I see,” I commented, wrapping yet another one of his presents.

  “Sounds like someone has a bit of the green-eyed monster going on,” Mom commented, grinning.

  “Hardly. I know that Christmas is for the little ones.”

  “This is almost like his first Christmas,” she replied. “The first one that he kind of has a clue that something is going on. It takes me back to when you were that age. You used to call Santa Claus ‘Canta Coz’,” she said, sounding wistful. “Babies grow up so fast.”

  “We used to have some pretty great Christmases. The last two have been kind of strange, I guess.”

  I noticed she was biting her lower lip. That meant she was worrying about something. I suspected I knew what it was.

  “Mom, you don’t think Daddy’s going to show up around here, do you?”

  She gave a heavy sigh.

  “I don’t know what to think. I’d almost gotten to the point where I could relax with my life now, not be worried that he was out for revenge of some sort. With what happened to your car, my sense of security has evaporated.”

  “Why would he want revenge?”

  “I was the one who took those financial records to the authorities. It officially tied him into the money laundering, insurance fraud and racketeering. He’s likely figured that out.”

  “What would he gain, though, by seeking revenge on you?”

  “What would he l
ose? He stands to spend thirty to forty years in prison. How much worse could it get?”

  “I don’t see Daddy as wanting to exact revenge on you. I just don’t.”

  She smiled, reaching over and brushing my hair back.

  “My bigger worry is that he wants to make contact with you. I know your father would never hurt you, Lindsey, but I do believe he’d try to use you and your soft heart to his advantage. That would be a horrible position to put you in.”

  “Don’t worry. It wouldn’t be difficult for me to do the right thing. Do you really think I could be tempted to help Daddy continue to be a fugitive from justice?”

  “I just think it would be a difficult position for you. I know you still love your father.”

  “Yes, I do. I don’t like him, though. I’d never allow him to drag me into his criminal activities. I have too much self-respect for that.”

  “That makes me feel better. Still, I hope like hell he doesn’t get near you. Let’s change the subject to something more upbeat. I’m wondering when you’re going to tell me about your new boyfriend.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “Boyfriend?”

  “Don’t play coy with me. Slate told me all about—Kyzer, is it?”

  “Oh, that,” I said, smiling sheepishly, “I don’t really consider him to be a boyfriend, yet. He’s been a really good friend to me. He chauffeured me around after my car was impounded.”

  “Hmm,” she replied, tying a fancy bow around one of the presents she was wrapping, “Slate made it sound like a little more than that. He said the boy gave you a lip-lock before he left.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. That would be how Slate would put it. “Yeah, I’m not sure lip-lock is the proper term. It was just a sweet kiss. It kind of took me by surprise, since that was a first.”

  “Really? Maybe he’s staking his claim.”

  “Staking his claim? Mom, I introduced Slate as my stepfather to him, for crying out loud.”

  “I’m not talking about Slate. Wasn’t Taz there at the time?” she teased.

  I felt a flush spread across my face. What did my mother know? I looked over at her quickly. She was clearly teasing me. She didn’t have a clue about Taz and me or she wouldn’t be so jovial.

  “Really, Mom,” I said, frowning.

  “I’m just playing with you,” she laughed. “I know Taz isn’t the type of guy you’d be attracted to, but hey, Kyzer doesn’t know that, right?”

  “I guess,” I replied, not comfortable even talking about Taz with my mother.

  “So, tell me about Kyzer.”

  I filled her in on what I knew about him, his looks and let her in on the fact that his family had a private jet at my disposal, should I want to spend some time at their home in Naples, Florida.

  “You’re not going to go, are you?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

  “No, Mom. Don’t worry. I’m not going to go, but would you be open to me inviting him here for New Year’s Eve maybe?”

  I was surprised I’d even asked that question, since the thought of it hadn’t occurred to me until just this minute. Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. She so wanted me to have a boyfriend. I knew that she would approve of Kyzer. He was the “anti-Taz” in her book.

  “Honey, that’d be fine. We have a spare bedroom upstairs. I mean, you didn’t plan to cohabitate here, right? I mean, I think Slate would have a real problem with that and—”

  “Mom, chill. My God, I just told you what Slate saw at my apartment was the first time we ever even kissed. So what—you think I’m going to hop into bed with him the next time I see him?”

  Now it was her turn to blush. It amused me how funny she was about certain things, like trying to make it sound as if Slate would have an issue with my sleeping with a boyfriend under their roof.

  “Of course not. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t presume things about you like that. Things are different these days, though.”

  She was clearly tripping over her words, trying to assure me that she wasn’t trying to nose into my business.

  “Do you remember that talk we had when I was home from Cornell my freshman year about my status with guys and lack of experience?” I asked her.

  She nodded.

  “Well, it hasn’t changed.”

  “You mean you’re still a virgin?” she asked, smiling.

  “Don’t sound so pleased about it. I’m certainly not.”

  She leaned over to give me a hug.

  Neither one of us had noticed that Slate had slipped upstairs to my bedroom where we were wrapping the gifts. My mom started to respond to what I’d just told her when Slate cleared his throat behind us.

  Christ - now Slate knows my status too.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard a thing. “Lindsey, I just got off the phone with the forensic lab that went over your car. Just as I suspected, the car’s been wiped clean of prints. They did find a strand of light blonde hair on the passenger side floor. Do any of your friends have long, blonde hair?”

  “No,” I replied. “It sounds like Susan’s hair.”

  He nodded.

  “It will undergo DNA testing. They also discovered that a sophisticated GPS tracking device had been attached to the underside of the car. It was likely done when your car was parked at school. It wouldn’t have been difficult for your father to find out where your transcripts from Cornell had been transferred. I’m sure the GPS was used to find out where you lived.”

  “So, you think someone followed me into the parking garage?”

  “Not necessarily inside, but to the location. Because the apartment complex is fairly large, they needed to find out which apartment was yours. That’s why they took your registration from the car. The building’s security officer confirmed that the camera covering the section where your car was parked was disabled.”

  This was starting to feel really creepy.

  “Lindsey, you need to get another cell phone with a new number.”

  I nodded.

  “Maybe Santa will bring you one tomorrow,” my mom said smiling. “It might even be plug ‘n’ play.”

  “Thanks, Mom. But this whole thing is freaking me out.”

  “No need to freak out,” Slate replied. “We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  Slate leaned over to give Mom a kiss.

  “Slate, would you check to see if Bryce is still napping?”

  “Absolutely, baby,” he said, leaving the room.

  Mom and I finished wrapping the gifts.

  I helped her make meatballs for the Christmas open house they were hosting tonight. I’d invited Darcy to come by. She told me she wouldn’t miss it for the world.

  I knew she planned on being entertained by my discomfort around Taz. She was in for a major disappointment. I decided I would no longer allow him to get under my skin. It was as simple as that.

  chapter 12

  It was just after 7:00 p.m. I could hear the sounds of the guests starting to arrive for the open house. Mom knocked on my door, letting me know that Darcy was downstairs.

  “I’ll be right down,” I called out, finishing with my eye make-up.

  I was wearing a plain, black cocktail dress that had long sleeves and a V-neckline. It revealed an appropriate amount of cleavage. I’d put on patterned black, nylon thigh-highs and a pair of four-inch black heels. I accented with red earrings, necklace and a bracelet to make it more festive.

  I descended the staircase, spotting Darcy immediately. She was talking to Taz, naturally. Knowing Darcy, she probably had her flirt on with him. She was already into Slate’s eggnog, which was fairly potent judging by the amount of rum I saw him pouring into it.

  She looked up as I came into the room and called out to me. “Merry Christmas, Lindsey! Wow, you rock that dress. Don’t you agree, Taz?”

  Sometimes I want to kill Darcy.

  Taz was watching me; a slight smile appear
ed.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “She looks great.”

  “Merry Christmas, Darcy…Taz.”

  “Hey, Taz,” Darcy said, “would you be a sweetie and get Lindsey some of this kick-ass eggnog?”

  I actually thought I saw Taz hesitate momentarily, as if he was going to make an issue of my being underage. He nodded and disappeared into the throng of people in the living room.

  “Okay,” I said to Darcy, “who in here is his date?”

  “That’s just it,” she replied hastily, “he came alone.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded. “I mean, as far as I can tell. Who in the hell are all these people?” she asked.

  “Hell if I know,” I laughed, “probably FBI people.”

  “Really?” she asked, eyes widening. “That’s kind of hot. Oh, here he comes. I think I’m going to mingle for a bit with some of these G-men,” she said with a wink.

  She promptly disappeared, making it look as if I wanted to be alone with Taz, which I clearly didn’t.

  Taz gave a little smirk as he handed me a cup of the eggnog. I thanked him and took a sip. There was an uncomfortable silence between us. I took another sip. Something was wrong.

  “Where did you get this?” I asked him, somewhat puzzled.

  “From the refrigerator,” he replied with a shrug.

  “Not from the punch bowl in the dining room?”

  “Nope. From the carton in the fridge.”

  “Well, then there’s no alcohol in it.”

  “That’s right. It’s virgin ‘nog.”

  “Oh, that’s really funny.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, clearly agitated.

  “You’re an ass.”

  Despite my resolve to put the whole ugly incident with Taz out of my mind, to rise above his assholey behavior then and now, I quickly became aware that it was easier said than done.

  I passed Darcy on my way into the dining room.

  “Who pissed on your cornflakes?” she asked.

  “Does it show?”

  “Hell yes. What the hell happened in the last three minutes?”