“How’s that a problem?” Matt asked at the same time Dean wondered aloud, “Which case?”
A knock on the door interrupted her reply. The door opened seconds later to reveal a man she knew none of the men recognised. Why should they? You only ever met IA when you were in the shit and Amelia was proud to say her ‘boys’ kept their noses clean.
“Come in, Clark.” A forty-something man with the receding hairline came in. “This is Clark Holly, a senior adviser for SCIA. I’ll let him tell you about your joint case.”
She emphasised her words, knowing neither party would want to share. As predicated, jaws tightened and eyes narrowed.
Clark Holly passed the wall length corkboard which had transformed the once barely used conference room into an operation centre for the Taskforce, just outside of the Detective Unit’s workspace, lovingly referred to as the Pig Pen. The Taskforce was merely the name of the collective powers and intuition the DU pooled together in order to solve the tougher crimes and had only been operational for just over two years and had seen its share of successes, the first being the Highway Dumper murders.
Clark, a man with a serious case of OCD according to Kellie, cleared his throat in an annoying manner, not instilling any good feelings with anyone inside the room. “SCIA have been investigating a case into an officer here at the LAC. I understand he has been murdered.”
Matt stiffened. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” His voice rose as he glared at the interloper then at her. “Hughes was a good cop.”
“He was,” Holly conceded, and Amelia assumed it had more to do with placating Matt than it did his personal beliefs. “Grayson Hughes just lost his way. I’m sure you’re all aware that one of Coleani’s lieutenants came back to town recently. Since his arrival, Isaac Hunter has been under surveillance.”
Dean’s chocolate eyes locked on her. “Why don’t we know anything about this?”
“It was need to know. And you didn’t need to know.”
“Bullshit,” he fired back. “This is personal for all of us boss, we were all there, all involved in the case. We’ve had to deal with countless yokels trying to take over.”
Amelia met his angry gaze. “Which is why we’re watching him. Hunter is an ambitious son-of-a-bitch. Crime has already spiked and if we don’t get a handle on this soon, we’ll lose what ground we gained when Coleani was put down.”
Coleani had been a sadistic bastard who had controlled a large portion of the city. He had been a scourge they’d gladly removed, none more so than she. After growing up in the neighbourhood he controlled where the sight of drug dealers and prostitutes were the norm she had no desire whatsoever to allow her city to become that depraved again.
“We’re looking into getting eyes and ears inside his business which leads us back to the issue at hand.” She inclined her head to Holly.
The man took the floor once more. “Yes, as I’ve said Hunter is under surveillance. A month ago, we received reports from the crew stating they believed Hughes was meeting with Hunter. We investigated and eventually approached Hughes.” Holly fiddled with the manila folder in front of him. “During his interrogation, Hughes admitted to being Hunter’s inside man.”
“Did he say why?” Matt’s voice had hardened. He hadn’t taken the knowledge about his friend well.
She crossed her legs, her charcoal skirt almost cutting off circulation. “Money. What else? Hughes had fallen into a rough patch and Hunter pounced during a weak moment.”
“Hughes also mentioned that Hunter was expecting an important container coming into the Terminal later that week.”
James sat forward. “Terminal? It was coming in via a shipping freighter?”
Clark Holly’s eyebrows slanted down into a vee. “Yes, why is that important?”
“Which company owned the freighter? Bennett Shipping?”
She uncrossed her legs and placed her arms on the table as she leaned forward, noting all eyes in the room had fallen on James. “Are you shooting in the dark, or do you actually know something, Hawke?”
“I’m not sure. O’Neill just asked me to look into who could possibly be threatening Bennett’s daughter. I believe the suspect list just went down to one.”
“Bennett’s daughter is the woman he’s protecting?” When James nodded, she continued, “Let O’Neill know what Holly just told us. It’ll be easier to keep everybody on the same page considering it seems all our cases are crossing.”
Dean’s gaze flicked between her and Holly. “What’s in the container?”
“We don’t know yet. The Customs director is being a prick about me going over his head. He’s dragging his feet but I’ll get onto him in the morning and get the ball rolling. Whatever is inside must be important to Hunter.”
Which made it important to them.
They’d bring Hunter down, just like they’d done to Coleani. No way were they bringing back the old Harbour Bay.
Not on her watch.
Chapter 12
Declan woke to Bethany’s scream.
He scurried out of his bed, Glock in hand and slid to a stop outside her door. Without concern for his own safety, he twisted the knob and shouldered it out of the way. It hit the wall with a deafening thud. She gasped as he entered. His gaze slid over the room before settling on the bed. Beth sat with her knees drawn to her chest. The moonlight, through the sheer curtains, highlighted the chalkiness of her face. Her cheeks were wet. He took several steps, spinning when he caught movement out the corner of his eye. He faced off the intruder, his blood pumping heavily with adrenaline and yet his heart rate didn’t jump or race. He’d trained it not to. Declan cursed savagely as his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness of the room. His reflection stared back at him.
Lowering his weapon, he dropped it lightly on her bedside table before climbing onto the bed beside her. He didn’t give his brain time to digest and present arguments on why it was a bad idea because they’d all be right. And he’d still do the exact same thing.
Her fingers clenched around the bedsheets she clutched to her chin. Her whole body shook like she’d been electrocuted.
“Shhh, it was just a bad dream.”
It had to have been pretty bad. Her voice had been terrified. Easing an arm around her shoulders, he lightly pressed his other hand on her knee. He squeezed her tight against him. Her head fell onto his shoulder and a tear dropped onto his naked chest.
A soft glow in the corner drew his attention. A night light?
“I’m so sorry.”
“What for? Everyone has bad dreams.”
She let out a squeak. Her hand covered her mouth and her harsh breathing filled the room.
“For scaring you.”
“If anyone’s scared it’s you. Wanna talk about it?”
A sniffle followed her “no”.
“Okay. We don’t have to talk.” He brought her with him as he laid back, resting his head on her pillow. A faint scent of coconut lingered on the fabric. Not loosening his grip, he continued to hold her long after her body relaxed into sleep and the tears had dried. Beth murmured, not quite at peace and his body tensed, ready and willing to fight her dragons. As each second clicked by, unease took up residence within him. Had this afternoon’s discovery triggered the nightmare? She’d been terrified. If only she’d talked to him, he wouldn’t be going out of his mind now, imagining all the possibilities. Something terrible had happened to Bethany, of that he had no doubt. Some time ago, he guessed. Her nightmares were not common, and she’d been shaken by their revival.
His gut churned, recalling Hawke’s last call. Bethany had been nine when Bennett had first sealed her away from the world. A part of him wanted to know exactly what she’d gone through. Another more sensible part said it would be better to stay in the dark. He pressed his lips against her forehead. She’d been through so much in her short years.
He wasn’t sure what he should do. Leave now, under the cover of darkness and let her think perhaps it had all been a d
ream. Or, stay with her until morning in case she had another nightmare. Which could bring more complications. Already, he was much too close to her. The attraction he felt dangerous.
His mind made up, Declan slipped from the bed, collected his gun, and stared down at Bethany. She let out a loud breath and snuggled further beneath the blanket. After waiting another minute, he silently closed the door behind him, a band tight around his heart.
***
Bethany still wore her flannel pyjamas when he knocked on her door long after the sun had risen. The hum of a vacuum travelled from the floor below. Greta and Davies had been up for some time, going about their daily activities. Not as early as him, having been unable to fall back asleep after his visit with Bethany and had tossed and turned the rest of the night.
His gaze travelled her body. “Interesting swimming attire.”
She huffed, leaving the door open as she stalked back into her room. He took it as an invitation and followed her. Her bedroom wasn’t at all how’d he imagined, then again, little about her fit the picture inside his head. White, black, and electric lime were splashed around the room, artfully grouped for maximum impact.
It had been too dark earlier and while he’d seen the outline of her bookcase he hadn’t taken note of its contents: books, a healthy orchid, a couple stuffed teddy bears that looked decades old, probably for sentimentally and a few photo frames filled with pictures of a young Bethany with her mother, and one with Alec and Caitlyn Harris. From his angle, he couldn’t see the others but figured they were similar in nature.
His gaze fell on the night light, now an innocuous plastic rectangle plugged into the electrical outlet.
“You okay?”
Her face scrunched, probably trying to decide if last night had really happened and he had climbed into bed with her. Not the most professional decision but he’d been raised not to leave a person in pain.
She hugged her body. “Not even a little bit.”
Her hair had yet to be brushed and wildly framed her face. He ignored the rumpled sheets and the spotted bra hanging from the bedpost.
Declan stopped in front of her. She raised her chin, keeping eye contact.
“What’s wrong?” Would she tell him now about her dream? About her past?
“Someone has been stalking me. Or have you forgotten that?”
“No. I just thought there might’ve been more.”
“More? How much do you need?”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“You mean last night?”
He swallowed hard, barely daring to breathe. Should he admit or deny? He found himself nodding.
She sank down on the bed and stared at her lap while her hand played with the hem of her top. “I wasn’t sure if I dreamt that. Thank you for being so kind. It’s been a while since I had that particular nightmare.”
He sat beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight. “I’m here if you want to talk.”
“It’s just a dream.”
Disappointment bunched in his stomach. “Okay. So, how about that swim?”
Bethany stood and went to the window, gazing out. “If someone is out there waiting, I shouldn’t make myself an easy target.”
“Hey.” He planted his hands on her shoulders. “The pool is hidden from view. It’s the safest place on the property. There’s no reason you can’t continue as you’ve always done.”
He stopped beside her. Bethany’s teeth bit into her lip. Declan hated seeing her so terrified. He wanted to give her some semblance of normality.
His gaze roamed the garden outside the window, searching for danger. While he’d done many security checks since he’d come on board he’d be negligent to believe it would keep out all threats. His upgrades were deterrents only. He knew only too well if someone wanted in, a few gates, alarms, and cameras wouldn’t stop them.
“I know I’m acting like a spoilt princess.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You have in the past.”
“That was before I got to know you.”
Her gaze searched his eyes. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Fear overruled her decisions. She needed to get a handle on those feelings. Use them to her advantage.
It served his purpose if she wanted to remain in her bedroom yet, Declan hated how mercenary it made him feel.
Bethany didn’t deserve any of this. She was kind and sweet, if not naïve.
Declan rubbed at the back of his neck. He didn’t want to get involved.
It was much too late for that. He blew out a breath.
“Change of plans. You’re going to learn how to defend yourself.”
It was also the best thing to do when you needed to reclaim confidence and power.
Her brow creased. “You want to train me?”
“Yes. The first thing about protecting someone is to know if something were to happen to you, your charge can protect themselves. At least until help shows up. I’ll not always be around. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you the basics?”
“Heidi, my last bodyguard began. But I’d made my father promise on my eighteenth birthday no more bodyguards.”
“Swimming has given you core strength and stamina. I’d like to see how that translates on land. Change into something comfortable. We’re going for a run.”
“N-now?”
“Yes, and tomorrow and then the day after that. Until you can knock me on my arse.”
An unladylike snort escaped. Her face flushed. “I doubt that day will ever come.”
“I thought you liked to learn new things?”
Those pink cheeks turned scarlet. What he would give to know what ran through her head.
Bethany cleared her throat. “I do.”
“Well then, let’s get started.”
Chapter 13
Bethany stilled as she opened her bedroom door. Instead of his usual somewhat stuffy dress attire, Declan wore shorts and a cotton shirt which stretched tightly across his broad chest.
Her gaze drifted lower. He had strong looking thighs. She should’ve known. Not one part of him could be classed as anything but perfection. His lightly tanned legs were muscular with a dusting of pale blond hair.
The butterflies in her stomach did the conga. Every day she had the same reaction and as always, he appeared oblivious.
Disappointment drowned out the fluttering’s and she blew out her cheeks. The universe sucked. Big time.
She couldn’t help feel like she was about to make a fool of herself. What else was new? She’d been falling over her own tongue since Declan had arrived.
Bethany may be a lot of things but a street fighter was not one of them. She was doomed to fail before she’d even begun.
Well, it wasn’t like she had anything better to do. It certainly gave her a chance to spend more time with Declan.
Dressed in yoga pants and a loose-fitting shirt, she pulled her hair into a high ponytail, and secured it with an elastic band.
“I’m ready.” The flutter in her stomach gave flight to a case of nerves. What if she couldn’t do what Declan wanted?
No, dammit. She would not fail. She’d be the best pupil he ever had.
His sea-blue gaze ran over her figure. Warmth exploded inside her.
When Declan’s gaze settled back on her eyes, he nodded.
“Let’s do this.”
Her thoughts exactly.
“We’ll ease into a five-k run then start on the basics.”
Five-kilometre run? Was he kidding? Probably not. And that was easing into it?
Come on, Beth. Don’t balk now.
“I’ll see you at the finish line.”
Or he’ll have to retrace his steps and find where she’d passed out.
Jerking her head, she followed his directions on proper stretching, going as far as to explain which muscles and what their purpose was. He was a good teacher. Clear. Concise.
They took off on a circuit he’d already mapped out of the estate. By the
first kilometre, she was sweating hard and only years of swimming kept her breathing in tune. A stitch drilled a hole in her side and she puffed like the bad wolf.
Declan kept in time with her. Pushing her onwards with encouraging words she barely heard but the tone of his voice penetrated her thoughts of falling down.
He spun her around when they reached the end and she clutched at his shoulders, not caring they were both sweaty.
Plonking her feet back on the hard ground, she stumbled slightly before once again stretching out muscles she never knew existed. Every bone holding her weight up suddenly lost all their density. She slid towards the ground only to be halted by a firm arm around her waist.
Declan pulled her flush against him and every nerve ending stood at attention. She barely dared to breathe, afraid she’d miss a moment of what would soon become more dream fodder.
His heat saturated her, her already hypersensitive body fuelled by his warmth. Her stomach somersaulted. Eyes crossing, she bit her lip. Why did he have to be the one man she’d ever found attractive? The one damn man who didn’t seem to know she existed.
“Walk it off.”
Case in point. She snuffed out the disappointed sigh. Seriously didn’t he feel even an ounce of attraction?
She moved with him, joining him in the centre of the lawn. A few gymnastics mats had been secured together. Beside the mats was an assortment of training equipment: gloves, practice boards. Someone had been busy. Her gaze fell upon the bottles of water. Collecting one, she snapped the seal and took a healthy swallow while Declan strapped a board to his hand.
He cocked his head towards the mat.
“Glove up.”
The thick material felt strange covering her hand, though she understood the necessity.
Gilded Cage (Harbour Bay Book 6) Page 6
