Sweet Reward-Last 9

by Christy Reece

  McCall had sent nothing to him but the address and appointment time. That’d been no problem for Jared. He’d used last night and the long flight to gather his own intel. At least he had thought there would be no problem. He’d searched the hell out of her and had gathered only a minuscule amount of information. Mia Ryker had opened her rescue business three years ago, and she was twenty-nine years old. The one photograph he’d managed to find was a grainy black-and-white image from a newspaper report of a case she’d worked on with the police. She was standing with several people, and he could tell nothing about her other than that she was small-boned and below average height. With so little background on her to be found, it was damn odd that McCall felt she was worthy of a face-to-face meeting. The Internet searches he’d done had turned up nothing on her business, other than the date she’d opened the doors. Just how successful could she be?

  Jared turned the doorknob and was about to push the door open when it swung wide and someone rammed into him. Jared grabbed the person’s upper arms and held tight. He’d lived too long to assume this wasn’t a threat.

  “Unless you want your front teeth replaced with dentures, you might want to let me go.”

  The words didn’t concern him—he’d heard a hell of a lot more serious threats—what surprised him was the humor in her voice. Dropping his hands, he stepped back to look down at the woman. Delicate was his first thought, which puzzled him because though her arms had felt feminine beneath his hands, he’d also felt firm muscles.

  “I’m looking for Mia Ryker. Know her?”

  “Not one for apologies, huh?”

  “Do I have reason to apologize?”

  The woman backed up this time, smiling with amusement. Jared felt a kick in his chest that traveled down to his gut and then lower. Hell, when was the last time a smile had bought him that kind of a reaction? The answer would be never. And despite himself, he found his mouth moving up in something like a responding smile. What the hell?

  “The polite person would say, ‘Excuse me.’ ”

  Still fighting the strange urge to smile, Jared shook his head. “I guess it’s established that I’m not polite.”

  “Well, I tend to be overly polite, so I guess that makes us a good team.” She held out her hand. “I’m Mia Ryker. You must be Jared Livingston. Come on in and have a seat. Want some coffee? How was your flight?” She grimaced. “I hate flying international, don’t you? I have tea, if you’d rather. There’s some Earl Grey around here somewhere. Or some soda, maybe? Pepsi or Diet Coke okay?”

  Jared followed her down a dark, narrow hallway. She opened the door into a large, sunny office, exploding with colors. In seconds, he scanned the area. Plants, healthy and thriving, overflowed a large credenza. A bright, jewel-toned sofa with colorful pillows was against one wall. Seemingly hundreds of photographs covered the walls, and various area rugs were scattered over the gleaming hardwood floor. Eclectic and vibrant—there was nothing relaxing about the decor. He knew less than zero about these things, but he liked it.

  As he took all of this in, he listened to Mia chatter nonstop about drink options. So far, she’d offered him six selections and had yet to pause long enough for him to answer. Since she didn’t seem to notice that he hadn’t yet spoken, he waited to see what she would do next. Besides, he liked the sound of her rich, husky voice.

  He also liked how she moved—everything she did was quick and graceful. He’d never seen anyone with more energy. She opened a small refrigerator, took out several containers, then shot a smile over her shoulder. As if he had given her a definitive answer, she said, “Okay. Hot chocolate it is.”

  And for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, Jared wanted to laugh.

  Mia knew she was acting like an idiot but couldn’t seem to stop herself. Noah had said Jared might be a bit austere; he should have left out the “bit” part. The man looked like he was made of indestructible granite. Maybe that wouldn’t have bothered her so much if he hadn’t touched her. Usually when a man put his hands on her and she hadn’t invited the touch, she’d jerk away from him. And, on occasion, she’d punch him. Not so with this man. How could one touch from a stranger cause all sorts of volcanoes to go off inside her body? Maybe she was coming down with something.

  Chattering nervously was a youthful habit she’d worked for years to overcome. And dammit, she thought she’d mastered the bad habit, at least for the most part. But this man with the dark, brooding scowl totally made her lose her composure. She, who had dined with presidents, prime ministers, and kings, was acting like a ditzy, brainless dweeb.

  Her fluttering around like a bumblebee in heat probably didn’t exactly scream “competence” to the man. She stirred chocolate powder into hot milk with a vigorous motion, more than aware that he was standing in the middle of the room staring at her.

  Mia, put your libido or whatever the hell your problem is on hold, turn around, and say something halfway intelligent to the man.

  With the chocolate made, Mia turned around and said, “The marshmallows are a couple of years old, but they melted just fine.” Brilliant, Ryker, just brilliant.

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re the Mia Ryker who owns this rescue company?”

  She could see why he’d have some difficulty believing that. Not only had she acted like an utter fool in the five minutes he’d known her, she’d forgotten to get her clothes from the dry cleaners and the only thing she’d had to wear this morning were jeans and a Chicago Cubs sweatshirt. She was just glad the man wasn’t a potential client. He probably would’ve already left by now.

  Handing him the steaming cup, she made herself go to her desk and sit down in a calm, mature manner. Hopefully, they could start over—on a friendly but also professional basis.

  “I am Mia Ryker. And yes, I do rescue victims.”

  He continued to stare at her for several more seconds. The longer he stared, the less nervous she felt and the more irritated she became. All right, yes, his first impression of her hadn’t been stellar, but did he have to act as though she were an alien?

  She nodded toward the chair in front of her desk. “Sit down. Noah wanted me to discuss my case and give you some information he thinks might help yours.”

  Finally, thankfully, he sat in the chair in front of the desk. He took a swallow of the chocolate, and for the first time, she saw his expression change.

  “This is actually pretty good.”

  Ridiculously pleased, she nodded. “Thanks. I make my own.”

  “So what is this information McCall said you had?”

  Mia took a breath and reminded herself of three things. She was good at her job. Just because the man was gorgeous didn’t mean he wasn’t a slug and a weasel. Most important, there were children to be rescued. If that wasn’t enough to bring a somber mood to the meeting, she didn’t know what could.

  “A couple of weeks ago, a young woman came to me, asking for my help. She’s a drug addict and sold her daughter for some quick cash. I’ve been searching for the little girl ever since. I’ve been in touch with all of my usual contacts. But it just doesn’t feel like the usual kind of human-trafficking lowlife.”

  “Why’s that?” Jared Livingston asked.

  “For one thing, they gave the mother too much money—two thousand dollars. They could’ve given her less. She was a desperate junkie; probably would’ve sold a body part for a fix.”

  “The amount does seem suspicious, but your case still doesn’t sound similar to the one we’re working.”

  “I agree. However, I got a call from an informant a couple of days ago. There’s been another infant abduction.”

  Jared shook his head, frowning. “I haven’t seen anything come through.”

  “That’s because they’re keeping it as low-profile as possible.”

  “Why?”

  “The family is wealthy and locally famous. They don’t want to start a media frenzy.”

  “How’d it go down?”

  “The mot
her went in to check on the child early in the morning. Found an empty crib.”

  Interest gleamed in his eyes. “How old?”

  “Six months.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “Three days ago.”

  “No ransom demand?”

  “No, they’ve not heard from anyone. And I got a call right before you got here. There was a leak, and the story’s about to break wide open. The press will be all over this.”

  “Hell, that’ll either freak them out and get them to dump the kid or they’ll take her farther away.”

  Mia nodded. “I called Noah to see if he had anything similar to my case or if he had heard of any new organizations going after infants. That’s when he told me about the case you’re working on.”

  “Still don’t see the connection to your case.”

  “I didn’t either, until I talked to my informant. One of the men my client described sounds very similar to one of the suspects the police are searching for in this new abduction. The couple, the Hempsteads, had a party at their home the night before their child was taken. This man—the suspect—was one of the extras hired to help in the kitchen. Next day, the child was gone.” Mia let that sink in for a moment, then added, “With an identical abduction to yours.”

  The interest in Jared’s silver eyes sharpened intensely. “Any idea who this man is?”

  “I’m meeting my informant tonight. He says he’s got something for me.”

  “What time?”

  “Midnight.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  The thought of lethal-looking Jared Livingston showing up to speak with Spunky had Mia shaking her head vehemently. The instant he spotted the LCR operative, he’d run. Might even disappear for good. She couldn’t risk that.

  “I can get it a lot faster without you. I’ll call you as soon as I—”

  “I’ll stay out of sight.”

  His tone told her he was coming whether she liked it or not. Mia’s independent spirit reared up, wanting to argue. However, she knew LCR training. If he wanted to follow her, chances were she’d never know he was there. Might as well let him come with her instead of having him skulk behind her in the shadows.

  “Fine. But if Spunky sees you and runs, you owe me an informant.”

  “Deal.” He stood and glanced at his watch. “I’ll go check into my hotel room and grab some dinner.”

  Mia stood too, and even though the sane, rational part of her was telling her to keep her mouth shut, she ignored it and said, “Have dinner with me. We can pick each other’s brains about our cases.”

  His look of “I’d rather eat sawdust than say yes” didn’t exactly make a girl feel all warm and gooey inside. However, he surprised her and said, “Fine. Where do you want to go?”

  Hoping she’d figure out exactly where these new masochistic tendencies were coming from later, she said, “Follow me.”

  three

  Jared tailed Mia Ryker’s black Ford Explorer. The woman continued to surprise him. Chattering away like a monkey on speed and then turning into a cool, knowledgeable professional in the blink of an eye. And the dinner invitation had shocked the hell out of him. Other than Lucas and McKenna, and a couple of other LCR people, when was the last time anyone had invited him to dinner?

  Chicago traffic was heavy this time of day, but she zipped in and out of jams as well as any race-car driver. And apparently she expected him to keep up with her. He kind of liked that.

  Half an hour later, the Chicago skyline no longer visible, she pulled into a curved paved drive in front of a two-story rock and brick house with a giant porch. Homey, middle-class, and comfortable. And it sure as hell wasn’t a restaurant.

  Jared pulled his rented SUV in behind her. Apparently, bringing home a stranger for dinner wasn’t a big deal for her. Was she married? He hadn’t seen a ring, but that didn’t mean anything. Lara had objected to wearing even a simple band, saying it got in the way when she was working. Jared had been stupid and bought the rings as a set. He’d ended up shoving them in a drawer.

  Aware that Mia stood waiting for him on the brick pathway leading to the house, Jared headed toward her. The smile she gave him told him there was no hidden agenda, but he also saw a bit of defiance. Her next words proved that.

  “I figured if I told you we were going to my house, you’d give me all sorts of excuses about why you couldn’t come.” As she turned away, she added, “I’m a good cook.”

  Though the last thing he would have expected to be doing today was eating a meal at Mia Ryker’s house, he didn’t comment as he followed her up the steps.

  She unlocked the door but, before she pushed it open, looked over her shoulder at him. “Get ready to be attacked.”

  Jared tensed. What the hell?

  The door opened and a menagerie of fur sprang toward them. Dogs of all sizes and shapes barked, yelped, and jumped gleefully. With a joyous laugh, Mia dropped her purse, went to her knees, and let them “attack.”

  Jared didn’t like to be thrown off balance, but once again this woman had managed to do just that. Being able to read people and predict their behavior was important, not only for his job but also for his life. He’d known Mia Ryker for barely two hours and she had already caught him unaware more than any person in recent memory.

  Mia rose to her feet, and only then did the dogs suddenly notice that a stranger was in their domain. Tails wagging, eyes gleaming, they surrounded their owner but made no effort to approach him. Their demeanor indicated that even though he was a stranger, they didn’t see him as a threat. If she’d gotten them for watchdogs, they sucked at their jobs.

  He noticed that Mia lowered her right hand. Apparently this was a sign from her, because the largest one, an Old English sheepdog, who seemed to be the leader, ambled over to him for the first sniff. Jared held out his hand for inspection. The dog evidently approved and somehow signaled that information to the others; one by one, in a much more polite fashion than they’d greeted Mia, they came up to him—all five—and did their own sniffing.

  “You’re not allergic, are you?” Mia asked.

  “I don’t think so.” It’d been years since he’d been around an animal. He’d had a lover, years ago, who’d had a dog and a cat. He didn’t remember sneezing around them. But since that relationship, like so many others, had lasted only a few weeks, his exposure to her pets had been minimal.

  And as much as he’d longed for one as a kid, having a pet had been impossible. Foster homes and orphanages didn’t exactly provide for those kinds of comforts.

  “Come on in and have a seat. Won’t take me but a few minutes to whip up something.”

  Still feeling off-kilter, Jared found himself sitting on the sofa, along with two of Mia’s dogs: a small white longhaired creature and a small brown scruffy-looking one with only one eye. Something touched his leg, and he looked down to see a large tiger-striped cat about to wind itself around him.

  “That’s Tiger-Lily. Don’t worry, her bark is worse than her bite.”

  Before he could think of anything appropriate to say, she winked at him and disappeared from the room.

  Mia hurriedly put the meal together, figuring she had only a small amount of time before the bemused expression on Jared’s face turned back into a dark thundercloud. She knew she had thrown him for a loop. Didn’t take a mind reader to see he wasn’t used to the whole domestic scene. Besides, she was acquainted with more than her share of grim-faced, testosterone-driven men. Not only did she work with some of the toughest men in the business, she knew many LCR operatives. And before he’d married Samara, Noah McCall had worn an almost identical dark expression.

  She turned on the broiler and then pulled the marinated pork chops from the fridge, along with extra marinade and the veggies she’d cut up before leaving for work this morning. She prepared the chops quickly and placed them under the broiler. Having guests for dinner was a weekly event for Mia. A couple of extra chops was no big deal.


  Before putting on the veggies, she pulled out a specially designed kitchen drawer. The instant she did, five four-legged creatures came skidding into the kitchen; Tiger-Lily walked sedately in behind them. The sound of the drawer opening was their cue that their dinner was on the way.

  With the efficiency she was known for, she prepared five bowls of dog food and one small bowl of cat food. Then, juggling them in her hands with the happy yelps of hungry animals following her, she placed the bowls on the floor of their room and closed the door. She smiled at the quietness, which wouldn’t last long.

  Back in the kitchen, Mia checked the chops and quickly stir-fried the veggies with the marinade. Just as her fur friends indicated by a unanimous yelp that they were finished, the meal was done.

  She opened the door to let the now-satisfied creatures out, then opened the back door to their playground—a fully fenced-in backyard. Mia laughed softly as they practically ran over one another in their eagerness to get outside. As usual, Tiger-Lily retreated to her soft pillow on the window seat and curled up for her post-dinner nap. Everyone would be occupied for some time, giving Mia and Jared a chance to have a quiet meal and talk.

  The sudden thought that it was way too quiet made her wonder. Had he left without telling her? Mia went to the living room and stopped abruptly at the entrance. Jared was still here but was no longer on the sofa. He was carefully inspecting the photographs on the wall. Each one told a story.

  While he learned about her, she took the time to study him. Granted, he was gorgeous. His thick black hair, cut to just below his ears, should have looked shaggy, but somehow it made him seem less austere, almost approachable. Well, until a person got a glance at the granite-hard expression on his classically handsome face. She’d seen friendlier-looking statues. And he was large: not just tall, though she figured him to be well over six feet, but muscular—or, as her sister, Nadia, would describe him, ripped. He looked like a man who would be seriously committed to and unflinching about whatever he set his mind to. In a word: fascinating.