G-Men: The Series

by ANDREA SMITH

  I could totally picture Taz saying that and feeling that way.

  “Has Taz talked to Easton?” I asked, a bit apprehensively.

  “No, but he’s tried and left messages, but I guess Easton doesn’t want to talk to him either. I think Taz is going to try and stop by his office once his assignment is finished and force a conversation.”

  That won’t be a pretty sight, I’m sure.

  “I guess family is family, no matter what,” I said.

  “Yep. And I’m glad you said that, Darce, because there’s something I need to tell you.” She said nervously. Her change in tone made me nervous. God—what now?

  The flight attendant came by for our drink orders right then. Once he’d gone, Lindsey turned to me, and took my hands into hers. I’d never seen her look so serious before.

  “Linds, what’s going on?” I asked, almost scared of what she was about to tell me.

  “You have to promise, Darcy, I mean promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

  I nodded, my eyes widening in anticipation. “Of course. I promise.”

  “I’ve been in touch with my dad’s mother—my Grandma Lambert, since right after Harper was born.”

  “Lambert?”

  “Yeah. That’s the last name of her most recent ex-husband. She lives in New York City. I tracked her down through information I found in my dad’s things. It wasn’t easy, trust me. I don’t know—I just had this need to let her know about Harper and have a connection with someone that was part of my dad. It’s hard to explain.”

  “No, I get it. But why the secrecy?”

  “Are you serious?” she asked, incredulously. “If Taz had any idea I’d been keeping in touch with her, he’d freak. I mean my dad’s still a fugitive from justice, though he’s pretty far down the list as far as the FBI goes, but still, Taz wouldn’t approve at all. I mean it’s not like she and I really talk about my dad. We did at first, but she’s just as disgusted with him as everyone else. She thinks he’s probably…dead.”

  “Oh, sweetie,” I said, reaching over from my seat and giving her a hug. “I know how hard this has been for you. I sometimes forget all the shit you went through because of it.”

  She nodded, managing a weak smile. “So you see? That’s one of the reasons I really wanted to make this trip with you. There’s no way I could’ve managed a trip to New York without arousing suspicion. I just want to meet her, give her some pictures of Daddy, me, and Harper of course and get to know her a little bit.”

  “I understand, Linds, but listen, okay? Sometimes you can build these things up in your mind to be something they’re not. Just don’t be too disappointed if she’s not the snuggly, loving grandmotherly type. I mean, I don’t blame you for wanting to meet her, but I’m going with you when you do, for moral support anyway.”

  “Thanks, Darce,” she said, smiling. “That means a lot to me.”

  Once we landed at JFK, we took the courtesy limo to our hotel located on Central Park South. Lindsey and I were staying four nights, returning to D.C. on Tuesday afternoon. It was early evening on Friday, so we just hung around our hotel suite and ordered room service. I felt bad I couldn’t party these days, especially since Lindsey rarely went anywhere without Harper. The wedding was set for late afternoon Saturday. Luckily, the church was a short cab ride from our hotel.

  Lindsey and I had unpacked, eaten, showered and were now on our respective queen-sized beds watching some trash television. She’d already had Taz checking in on her. Eli and my mother had checked in on me. She’d checked on Harper, so all of the checkpoints had pretty much been covered.

  So you can imagine my surprise when I heard the ring of a different cell phone. Lindsey leapt off of her bed, grabbing the hoodie she’d left on the chair. I watched as she fished a different phone out of the pocket.

  “Hey,” she said, walking towards the bathroom. From there, all I could hear were bits and pieces of the murmured conversation she was having with whomever. A couple of minutes later I heard her say, “See you then, Louise. Okay, take care,” as she came back in from the bathroom. She tossed the phone into her handbag.

  “So, I’m curious,” I said. “Why the two cell phones?”

  She looked a little embarrassed as she shook her head. “I know it seems sneaky and all, but I promised my grandmother Louise that I’d do everything possible to make sure Taz doesn’t find out we’re keeping in contact.”

  I sat upright on my bed now, looking her in the eyes. “Lindsey, why would Louise have an issue with Taz knowing you two are in touch?”

  “Because,” she replied, “she knows what he does for a living.” She was picking at her toenails now, avoiding looking me in the eye.

  I went over and sat down next to her on the bed. “Are you sure you’ve told me everything?”

  I could see that she was uncomfortable. Deception didn’t come easy for Lindsey. She’d make a horrible criminal. Thank God she’d taken after her mother and not her father. But her naiveté where people were concerned, at least the people that she loved or cared about, nearly killed her a little more than a year ago. It bothered me that she apparently hadn’t learned from it.

  “Okay,” she sighed. “I didn’t tell you that my grandmother called me a little over a month ago and said that she’d received a letter from my dad. He’d enclosed one for me and asked that she find some way of getting it to me without mailing it. He was afraid she’d be implicated as an accessory or something.”

  “How could she be held accountable for receiving mail?” I asked.

  Lindsey continued picking at her nails. “Because in his letter to her he asked that she get money to him. She doesn’t know where he is, trust me, I know she’s not lying about that. But…well, he did give her a drop-off point where she’d be at no risk in getting caught and an associate that’s apparently helping him stay underground would know when to pick it up once he got word.”

  “Oh, God,” I breathed. “Lindsey, please tell me you’re not giving your father money…please?”

  She looked up at me. “Of course not,” she said. “I promised Taz a long time ago that if my father ever made contact with me that I’d tell him to turn himself in and face the music. I also told him I wouldn’t harbor him or give him assistance as a fugitive.”

  “Thank God for that,” I said, relaxing back a bit.

  “But,” she continued, “I do feel that since Louise is providing what money she can spare to help her son, my father, then the least I can do is help her out financially. She isn’t a woman with a lot of means.”

  Oh God…

  “Lindsey, I think the authorities might see that as a fine line between giving someone a gift and money laundering.”

  She had a stubborn look going now. “I don’t care. This money is for Louise and she’s free to do whatever she wants with it. She’s already emptied her bank account, so it’s really a done deal. She’s the beneficiary of this cash.”

  “Can I ask how much cash you’re giving her?”

  “Ten thousand dollars,” she replied, as if that were pocket change.

  “Ten grand?” I shrieked loudly. “How in the hell did you get ten grand without Taz knowing?

  “I borrowed it from my grandmother.”

  Of course you did, Linds.

  I treaded carefully. “I don’t feel good about this. You’re seriously going against what you promised Taz now.”

  “How so? I don’t know where my dad is. I’m giving money to my grandmother and I never promised Taz anything where she was concerned. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Darce.”

  She pulled the covers down on her bed, crawling underneath. I could sympathize with her. I mean, she was my best friend and all. I honestly couldn’t say what I would’ve done if I’d been put in that position. But the fact was that Lindsey still loved Jack Dennison (her father) despite the fact that he was a criminal on the run. His criminal activities had indirectly put her in
a position last year of being stalked by Kyzer Stanfield at college. She learned too late that Kyzer wasn’t what he appeared to be.

  Kyzer was involved with his own step-mother, who’d also been Jack Dennison’s mistress and cohort in crime, as it turned out. They were certain Lindsey had information or was in possession of something they needed. So much, that Kyzer had abducted her and she was tortured at their hands. I shivered now, thinking how close I’d come to losing my best friend. Thank God for Taz.

  It was a tough one. I knew Lindsey wanted to believe there was good in her father’s side of the family. I just couldn’t quite get there. My instincts were on high alert. Nothing good could come of this, of that I was sure.

  chapter 51

  ~ Easton ~

  I swirled the last of my brandy in the snifter and finished it off. Colin was sitting across from me at the bar. We were enjoying his last night of bachelorhood. He’d declined my offer of a proper bachelor party, complete with strippers and a mind-blowing lap dance.

  Pussy-whipped sod.

  “So, Colin,” I said with a smirk, “Your last night of freedom, mate. And who’re you spending it with? Your boss and best man. Such a pity don’t you think?”

  Colin looked at me, getting a crooked, drunken grin on his face. “You forgot, friend. I consider you a friend as well. Or maybe you don’t do friendships, either, eh?”

  If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought Colin was baiting me. “Of course,” I replied, pushing my snifter over so the bartender could refill. “I’ll even bloody toast to it.”

  I raised my glass, waiting for him to follow, but it was obvious he wasn’t going to follow through. “Well?”

  “Well…what?” he asked, his eyes now narrowing.

  “I want to toast to friendship.”

  “Bloody hell,” he said, smirking again. “You’re fucking one for the books, Easton.”

  I was totally confused as to the reason for Colin’s mood becoming dark. I thought we’d had a fairly jovial time throughout the evening. Clearly, he had a burr up his arse at the moment.

  “Care to clue me in, mate?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I don’t get it, Easton,” he said, shaking his head. “Not once, not one fucking time this evening, or for the past several months, for that matter, have you even bothered to ask me how she’s been or how she’s doing. Is it really that simple for you to dismiss someone so easily?”

  I wasn’t comfortable with Colin taking me to task on something so personal, so obviously none of his business, friend or not. Apparently, my silence and body language sent the message.

  “Oh, I know, I know,” he said, derisively, “Easton Matthews answers to no one; he’s above reproach and accountability after all, right? Wrong. I’m here to tell you flat out; you were wrong in what you did to that girl.” He took a drink of his single-malted scotch.

  Now I was totally pissed at Colin’s badgering. “Just because I don’t mention Darcy to you or question you about her, what the fuck makes you think I’m not thinking about her? I know exactly where she is at any moment of any day.”

  I pulled my mobile out, punched in some digits and hit the field for address location. I held it in front of him, watching him squint to read the address, room number and “time-in” data on the screen.

  “What the bloody hell?” he asked, looking at it and then at me.

  “Here’s a real-time street view if you like,” I said, hitting another highlighted tab on the screen.

  Colin leaned in, watching as the night vision provided him a clear view of the main lobby entrance of the hotel where Darcy was staying. The live stream showed cars going by and the doorman having a smoke out on the sidewalk.

  “Fuck no—you didn’t. How?”

  I loved it when I could render Colin speechless. It was a difficult thing to do because he’d been with me for a long time, and had pretty much been shock-proofed as a result.

  “Remember the clit jewelry I had made for her?”

  He nodded, his eyes widening as the blanks were filled in. “Night Moves?” he asked, incredulously.

  “Yeah, my own little prototype test module inside the black onyx ball. So you see, my friend, I still keep track of her every day.”

  He looked at me long and hard. “Why?”

  Now it was my turn to be puzzled. “What do you mean…why? Because…I can,” I stated simply, with a shrug.

  Colin laughed, a loud, genuine laugh, his hand slapping my shoulder. “You fucking love her. I knew it!”

  I gave him a scowl, but it did nothing to deter his laughter. He ordered two shots of tequila from the bartender.

  “Colin, really,” I started, “I’m not a big fan…”

  “Aw, shut the hell up, mate,” he said grinning, handing me one of the shots, and raising his up. “To Night Moves—cutting edge technology for the romantic stalker in all of us! Salute!”

  He downed his shot, still totally entertained by my revelation. I downed mine quickly, and turned my attention back to him.

  “I’m pleased you’re entertained at my expense, Colin,” I remarked tersely. “I don’t have to tell you that what I just shared with you is confidential…”

  “No problem, bro,” he snickered, his American accent becoming more prominent with his escalating inebriation. “But I have to ask, what if she takes the clit jewelry out? I mean what if her next boyfriend doesn’t fancy her having it?”

  I gave him a dark glare, signaling the bartender for the tab. Colin was getting too drunk and I’d promised Ronnie he wouldn’t be hung over for the wedding.

  “There’s not been a new boyfriend so far,” I snapped.

  “Well,” he snorted, “with her looks and body, it’s just a matter of time, mate.”

  “Shut up, Colin,” I snarled. “You’re drunk and I’m getting you back to your suite.”

  “And you, my friend? Well, you are totally fucked-up over her, and too bloody proud to fix it.”

  “Is that so?” I asked, handing my credit card to the bartender.

  “Bloody right,” he slurred. “I don’t mean to overstep my place here, Easton, and I’ve never said something to you that needed to be said a long time ago. I should’ve said it, but I didn’t, but now I am. Your mother isn’t to blame for your fucked-upness, you know?”

  “Do tell?”

  “You’re to blame for it. You allowed your mother to fuck with your head all these years, knowing damn well she did it for sport, for pure entertainment. I mean, for Chrissake, man, you empowered her and she still has the power because you allow it! You did the same with that wench of a model…what’s her name? Bianca…” He made an at-a-loss hand gesture through the air, “Something-or-other.”

  I grabbed my receipt and credit card back from the bartender, shrugging my jacket on, and helping Colin up from the bar stool. “You’re shitfaced, Colin. Come on, let’s get you back to your hotel.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said, wrenching his arm away. “Just listen to me, Easton. Yeah, I’m drunk right now, but it doesn’t mean I’m not speaking the truth now, does it? You love the girl, the girl loves you. Take it from your best friend—hell, take it from your only real friend. Don’t waste one more fucking day not doing something about it. You need to fix it, got it?”

  He was staring into my eyes and I could see that he was passionate about getting his message across to me. It was something I’d already thought about a million times. I didn’t need Colin to point out what I already knew. In my mind, I worried it was already too late.

  “I got it, Colin,” I replied. “She may just be done with me, though.”

  “Don’t think so, mate. You make it right with her while you have the chance.”

  chapter 52

  September 14th—Colin and Ronnie’s wedding day turned out to be gorgeous. It was sunny, with a slight crispness in the air announcing fall was here. The ceremony was scheduled for 4:30 in the afternoon at
Central Methodist Church. I already knew Easton was best man.

  The wedding wasn’t going to be huge, but the party afterwards was going to be pretty impressive. Apparently, as a gift to the newlywed’s, Easton had booked a high-end nightclub called Harmony on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. That had to have cost a fortune, having a trendy nightclub such as that close their doors to accommodate a private reception on a Saturday night, but then, Easton had the means to lavish on the people he cared about.

  I’d just finished showering and was getting my make-up on. My butterflies had been restless all day, not to mention a new fluttering that had made its presence known. Our baby. God! Why now? I was already so nervous, not knowing how I’d react to him. These pregnancy hormones were starting to fuck with my mind, it seemed. I’d confided to Lindsey how I would feel happy and fine one moment, nervous and agitated the next, and then an overwhelming desire to see Easton would wash over me. I’d been having dreams about him two to three times a week.

  Lindsey had laughed, saying it was all perfectly natural. She said my “nesting” instinct had kicked in. I wasn’t sure what the hell that was, but at times I did have the urge to fucking climb a tree and just hide from everything and everyone.

  After I finished with my hair, I slipped into the dark teal knit dress that I had brought to wear. It was trimmed with black fleur de leis scrolling.

  “Hey,” Lindsey said, coming up behind me, “you aren’t trying to upstage the bride today are you, Darce?”

  “Puhleeze,” I replied, laughing, “You’re doing best friend duty, aren’t you? What? Trying to make me feel better about my expanding waistline?”

  “Yeah, right,” she giggled, zipping me the rest of the way up. “God—by the time I was five months pregnant I was already showing like I had twins in there.”

  I nodded, slipping my earrings in. “That’s because you ate anything that didn’t eat you first, as I remember.”

  “Shut up,” she giggled. “I learned my lesson on that one. Won’t do that for the next baby.”