L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Series, Boxed Set: The Deceived, The Taken & The Silent

by Style, Linda

  “Well, it started out not as a date and then…” Shoot. She’d have to do this delicately.

  “You remember Adam and what I told you earlier about why I went to Costa Rica?”

  Chloe nodded, her eyes wide with expectancy.

  “Well, I didn’t go alone. I met Adam on the plane, and while we started out as just friends, it ended up a little more than that.”

  “Oh, wow!” Chloe jumped up on the bed and started bouncing. “You’re going out with Adam. That’s so cool. Really, really cool. He’s such a hunk.”

  Jillian raised her hands in a time-out gesture. “Uh, slow down, missy. I said we ended up a little more than friends. That doesn’t translate into anything major.”

  “But it could, couldn’t it?” Excitement rang in Chloe’s voice.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “He lives in California for one thing.”

  “But if he comes back here, you’d see him again, wouldn’t you?”

  As much as she’d like to, as much as she wished things could’ve been different between them, she wasn’t going to give herself or Chloe any false hopes. “I don’t think he’ll want to. He has a job and commitments. We’re very different….” Her voice trailed off.

  “But if he wanted to, if he came back and he wanted to see you, you’d want to see him again, wouldn’t you?”

  Jillian thought for a moment, felt her heart squeeze. Then she said, “Yes, I would. I’d like that very much.”

  Chloe took one last bounce, came to a sitting position again and gave her mom a hug.

  “So, there’s hope for me yet, don’t you think?” Jillian said, feeling a little better herself. Nothing was going to happen, but realizing she was open for it if it did was exciting in a way. “And there’s something else I have to tell you. Something very important that will really change things around here….”

  Fifteen minutes later, she and Chloe were on their way to pick up Bobby. Chloe’d had no qualms whatsoever, and in fact, was quite ecstatic about it. She’d have a brother. Her family was growing and her mother wasn’t hopeless, after all. The things she’d learned about her father had seemingly left no scars.

  Maybe it was a good thing Chloe didn’t remember her father very well. It would’ve hurt more if she had. God knows, her own heart still ached and she didn’t know if that would ever go away.

  As much as she thought she’d known her husband, she hadn’t known him at all. What did that say about their happy marriage?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  ADAM WAS STILL SITTING in the room two hours later—pissed off as hell.

  No one had explained a thing. No one had explained a thing. Chief MacGuire left things to Carlyle who’d then left to make some calls, and the suits had disappeared to do who knew what. He would’ve gone back to his desk, but the door had been locked. It was as if he’d been collared and was awaiting interrogation.

  He understood now what Jillian must’ve gone through four years ago. The difference was she’d been in mourning for her husband at the time. Sometimes his job just plain sucked.

  So what was the alternative? A few retired cops he knew had gone into P.I. work, started their own businesses and only took on the jobs they wanted. Could he do that?

  If he worked in Chicago, he could be closer to his family and Jillian at the same time. But then, if being close to Jillian was his objective, he could do the same thing by joining the Chicago police.

  But what would be the point? So he could pine after a woman in love with another guy? That wasn’t his gig, either.

  So why couldn’t he stop thinking about her, wondering if she was okay, wondering what she was doing. Had she gone back to work? How was she getting along with Bobby added to her family? How was Bobby getting along with them? He wondered what explanation she’d given to her daughter, but mostly, he wondered if Jillian thought about him at all.

  And every time he thought about her, he got a hollow feeling inside. He’d gotten used to being around her, but hell, that was one week out of a lifetime. How could he miss someone he barely knew, so much?

  How could he have been so stupid as to fall in love with her?

  Just then the door opened. Chief MacGuire and Captain Carlyle came in with two guys following on their heels. One Adam pegged as FBI, even before the introductions, and the other, he learned, was part of the binational task force in Mexicali. The Chief said a special agent from the DEA would be joining them shortly.

  All were part of SWBI, the Southwest Border Initiative, and were there to debrief him—because even though he hadn’t been involved in their operation, he’d managed to jump into the middle of it, and since he’d collected so much evidence and knew so much, they were bringing him in.

  “We need to know everything that happened, Ramsey,” one of the feds said. “We need to know where to go from here.”

  They launched into a discussion, and by the time they finished, Adam had learned that the DEA had a former special agent who’d taken a few months in the slammer with Manolo’s brother and was currently doing a stint in Costa Rica. He had good cover, he knew the language and the people. In fact, Adam had met him. Father Carlito Martinez.

  Relief swept through Adam. He’d liked the priest and had been disillusioned and filled with disgust when he’d thought the guy was dirty. More surprising was his realization that all his old values and beliefs, all his ideals, still lived someplace deep inside him. He’d thought them long gone.

  Matt Stryker, the DEA agent, said, “The southernmost area of Costa Rica on the Caribbean side has been a mainline for drug trafficking from South America, the islands and Europe for years. The goods are transported up through Mexico and into the U.S. at various points along the U.S.-Mexican border, including Tijuana.”

  Adam knew that already from working narc for two years.

  “Father Martinez,” Stryker continued, “is one of our civilian contacts in Costa Rica. He was brought in temporarily on the first leg of the operation.”

  Just then the chief shoved a picture under Adam’s nose. It was the Hawaiian-shirt guy he’d met the last time he’d seen Father Martinez at the church.

  “What’s his role?” Adam asked.

  “He’s DEA.”

  “Yeah.” His instincts were still good. He’d known the guy was no tourist.

  “How’d the priest get tapped?” Adam asked.

  “He’s a former agent. He went through the seminary, couldn’t decide if that was his real calling, so he did a stint with the agency before deciding to go back to the priesthood. The department thought it necessary to enlist the aid of a few influential private citizens in the country, and he was a natural for the job. Especially since he’d done time with Manolo’s brother when he was with the agency on another job. Sometimes private citizens are our best contacts, since they know the country and the people.”

  “So where does Bryce come in?”

  The Captain sat on the edge of the table. “Bryce was assigned to the task force on the Tijuana end, the last leg on the route. Bryce was deep inside, working as Sullivan’s contact to get across the border. The nearest we can figure out is that when Sullivan found out the feds were on to him, he staged his own death and left the country.

  “The Corita woman had been part of Sullivan’s cover for a long time, and since he had to leave the country fast, the wedding was one way to make it work. With no time to get a new identity, he had to use his own name. Which apparently didn’t matter to him once he’d left the country, because the law here thought he was dead.”

  The Southwest Border Initiative was huge, and the number of agencies involved was enough to boggle anyone’s mind. But none of the explanations, none of Sullivan’s information, had mentioned that Bryce had been made or why he was killed. From the FBI reports, it looked as if his cover had still been intact.

  “So, who made Bryce?”

  The men looked at each other. The captain asked everyone leave exc
ept him and Adam. When they were alone, he sat on a chair next to Adam.

  “There’s no easy way to say this, Adam. Bryce was working with Sullivan. When Sullivan realized he was in trouble…” He stopped, took a breath as he studied Adam’s face…as if gauging his stability or something. Then he said, “We don’t even know that he was made. He could’ve just been unlucky and been in the wrong place at the wrong time. All we know is that Sullivan needed to leave and he didn’t want anyone to know he was still alive. He needed a body.”

  Adam swallowed. He felt as if he’d been poleaxed. He took a breath and blew it out with a whoosh. “The one in the truck?”

  Carlyle nodded.

  Adam shook his head. “All this time you knew. And you covered?”

  The captain shook his head. “We didn’t know. SWBI had lost contact with him. Word from our source in Mexico confirmed he was dead and then his bloody clothes turned up in a dumpster at a motel near Tijuana. Bryce’s body was never found. The operation would’ve been blown if we’d done anything or let it be known he was missing. There was no body in that casket—that’s why it was closed. I couldn’t let you work on the case back then because you’re too good. You would’ve uncovered something. The operation was too important to take that chance.”

  Adam let the words sink in for a moment. Then he asked, “How long have you known about the body in the truck?”

  “We didn’t know until you brought in the information and the DNA came in earlier today.”

  Within the hour, Adam had left the division and spent the rest of the day on the move, walking, driving, running—it didn’t matter where as long as he kept moving. His shock had quickly shifted to anger. Anger at Bryce for dying on him, and at himself because he hadn’t been there for his partner.

  He hadn’t been there for Bryce because his marriage was on the rocks. Ironically, his marriage was on the rocks because of his job, and his focus had been on saving his marriage. He was too involved in his own personal life to see that his partner was in trouble.

  At home later that night, Adam paced the floor in his living room. Bryce had died for nothing. He’d been murdered by a scumbag drug dealer who wanted to live the good life on a plantation in Costa Rica. It didn’t make sense. The only thing that did was that his partner had died for something he believed in.

  As Adam thought back, he realized there were plenty of signs that should’ve triggered suspicion that his partner needed help. But, like Adam, Bryce could never admit it.

  But dammit! If Adam had been aware at all, he should’ve known. The signs were there. Bryce had stopped joining the guys at Nick’s Place after work, his attitude had changed from outgoing to moody, and he’d become defensive, guarded, remote and secretive.

  Just as Kate had become before he found out she’d been cheating on him.

  Both times, he should’ve known something was wrong. But he hadn’t. He hadn’t even suspected. What made him think he could ever have another relationship with anyone? What made him think he could be a good cop?

  Jillian’s image formed in his mind. He’d actually fantasized about a future with her, even thought about changing jobs. Which just went to show how far off the mark he was.

  The only good thing that had come of it all was that with the information Jack Sullivan had provided, SWBI would be able to attack the command and control functions of the crime syndicate behind the international drug traffickers. So far three different prior operations had resulted in the seizure of more than twenty-two thousand kilos of illegal drugs and thirty-five million dollars.

  The operations had also helped reduce corruption, violence and alien smuggling associated with drug-trafficking activities along the border.

  Now with the assistance of the Mexican government and the Costa Rican government through the bilateral Maritime Counter-Drug Agreement, it was possible to nail the cartel’s leader, the elusive Manolo, which would leave the organization in disarray, without leadership and unable to conduct business in the U.S. It wouldn’t last forever, but it would be a while before a new organization could take over.

  Still, he couldn’t close the Sullivan case until he knew for sure what had happened to the guy. The captain had assured Adam he’d know on the DNA as soon as he did. What he didn’t know was whether all this was part of Sullivan’s plan, or if he’d crossed Manolo, too, and the cartel had finally caught up with him.

  Or, was it all another ruse and he was still alive?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  JILLIAN EXITED THE SALON and waited outside the First Mane Event for Patti to come so she could lock the door. The kids had been in school for a few weeks and life was getting back to normal.

  But there wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t think about Adam.

  She’d heard from him only once. He’d called to say they’d received the DNA results and that the man in the truck was definitely not Rob. He’d said he hoped to have additional information for her later, but couldn’t say any more right then.

  Even though she’d expected the DNA results, the news had still thrown her and she’d barely said two words to Adam before hanging up. She still couldn’t get used to the idea that the man she’d lived with for thirteen years, been married to for ten, the man she’d loved and trusted above all others, had led a double life. He’d willingly, deliberately, cold-hearted, deceived her.

  And he may still be out there somewhere.

  For the better part of that week, bitterness had consumed her, and she despaired that she’d never trust another man again. How could she have been so blind?

  She’d trusted Adam, too, and he’d used her for his own gain. But hadn’t he let her know from the beginning he wasn’t the kind of man she should fall in love with? That she’d fallen for him was her own fault. But knowing her stupidity didn’t make her feel any better. Just more stupid. Naive.

  Patti came out and Jillian closed the door and locked it.

  “So, tomorrow is the big day,” Patti said.

  Jillian stared at her. “Big day?”

  Patti looked at her askance. “Hello. I’m meeting the e-mail guy. The one I’ve been corresponding with for two months, remember?”

  “Oh, right. I’m sorry, Patti. I guess I’m just preoccupied these days.”

  “I guess. Jeez, Jilly, you gotta snap out of it. There’s more to life than pining over some guy.”

  “I’m not pining!”

  “Oh, sure.”

  “I’m not! I’m just…pensive. I have a lot of things to think about. I’ve got two children….”

  “Who are happy as little clams, they’re both excelling in school, and they think the sun rises and sets on their mom, who just happens to own three businesses and doesn’t have to worry about where her money is coming from. Y’know, I wish I had your troubles.”

  Patti was right. Her life was going along smoothly—at least on the surface. It was her emotions that were all screwed up. She’d felt so vulnerable lately, and the least little thing seemed to bring on the tears. Aside from the fact that her husband was a bigamist, and the man she loved didn’t want anything to do with her, her life was a breeze.

  She missed Adam. Missed him desperately.

  For so long she’d been without a relationship, without someone to share the little things with, without someone to hold her and love her and make her feel special. Adam had made her feel that way. She’d never known how important those things were.

  Adam had made her realize how important it was not only to love someone as she did her children, but to share her love and life with someone who felt the same about her.

  “You know, you could call him.” Patti came to an abrupt stop by her car. “You don’t have to wait for him to call you.”

  It wasn’t as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her. But what was the point? What would she say? “He lives in L.A., Patti. He works there.”

  “So?” Patti shrugged, palms up. “My e-mail guy lives in Nebraska and he’s coming to visit.”
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  Now Jillian looked at Patti askance. “That could be dangerous, you know.”

  “Not any more dangerous than meeting a guy at a bar, or at church, even. Remember the ‘sermon serial killer’?”

  Jillian had to laugh. “Yes.”

  “Just living is dangerous, kiddo. You can’t live in a vacuum. You gotta take a few chances.”

  “I went to Costa Rica.”

  “That you did. And wasn’t it worth it? Even if you never saw the guy again, I bet it was worth it. So why not take that next step?”

  “I don’t think that’s one of my options, at least not with Adam.”

  “How do you know? Maybe he’s at home thinking the same stupid things you are.”

  “Even if he was, and I took a chance, it could end badly.”

  Patti shrugged. “Life ends badly. We die. But at least we can live a little before that happens.”

  Jillian and Patti made plans to take the kids to the fair on the weekend, said their goodbyes, and then Jillian headed home. The kids would be there by now.

  Instead of enrolling Bobby in kindergarten for half days, she’d enrolled him in the full-day schedule, which started later in the morning and ended at the same time Chloe’s classes did. The teacher had thought it best since he needed to catch up, and the time worked well with Jillian’s new schedule, too.

  Since Costa Rica, she’d vowed to spend less time at work and more time with her children. More time appreciating the world around her.

  Chloe was a great help at home and had taught Bobby the alphabet and all the slang words kids her age knew. She’d also taken it upon herself to walk Bobby home from school every afternoon. Chloe had recently taken on several responsibilities as if she’d been born to them. Definitely a radical change, and while Jillian liked the new Chloe, she knew teenagers, which was fast approaching, and didn’t hold much hope that the new Chloe would last forever.

  In the few weeks Bobby had been there, the boy’s English had improved dramatically. Best of all, he’d fit seamlessly into their little family as if he’d been there all along. Even if there was a void in her love life, the rest of it was good.