A chill went through Randi. Esther Emiliano’s murder had been the work of a coldhearted, bloodsucking, merciless bastard. And the perp was not a member of the Eastside Revengers.
“Dr. Fuller?”
Randi set her mind back on the phone conversation. “Yes, Agent Riviera. You’re right. The person who killed Esther Emiliano is not a member of the Revengers.”
He didn’t say anything, and she knew he was trying to digest the fact that she’d given him the name of the victim when he hadn’t mentioned it. “I also know she was wearing a blue dress at the time she was brutally raped and that the perp all but cut her hair off at the scalp after shooting her in the head. Four times. Her face was carved up to the point that it was unrecognizable. She died on her back, legs sprawled open in a pool of blood. It was an execution-style killing.”
Randi heard the sound of the agent’s sharp gasp. Without being given any specifics of the case, she’d described things to him as if she’d been there at the crime scene. “And you know all this from my phone call?” he asked with utter amazement in his voice.
“I’m able to tune in to the crime from a phone call most of the time, but not always. I also know that currently you don’t have any tangible leads. And although you know the type of gun used, you haven’t been able to find the murder weapon.” She let out a long sigh. “You and your men are looking in the wrong places.”
“We are?”
“Yes. I see water, beautiful blue waters. Not the ocean. Not that large. It’s in a smaller body of water. Like a small lake or pond.”
“Around LA, that could be a number of places. We have lakes and ponds all over.” He paused a moment, then asked, “Do you know who did it, Dr. Fuller? The person or persons responsible?”
“Not yet. But I feel certain I can assist you.”
“Any help you can give us will be appreciated.”
“I don’t feel I will be able to provide any additional revelations over the phone. I need to come to LA and visit the crime scene.”
“How soon can you get here?”
Randi glanced over at the flowers. Regret touched her deeply. “I can fly out there first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you, Dr. Fuller.”
CHAPTER NINE
QUASAR’S SPIRITS SANK while listening to what Randi was telling him. This weekend was off. She was needed in LA to assist the local authorities and FBI in stopping bloodshed between two rival gangs.
“I’m sorry, Quasar. I was really looking forward to seeing you again this weekend.”
He heard the sincerity in her voice. “Same here. Do you know how long you’ll be on the West Coast?”
“Not sure. Ideally for no more than a week or so. The key lies in the murder weapon, and we’re racing against time. One gang is convinced the other one is guilty and plans to retaliate. Innocent people could get hurt.”
You could get hurt. Quasar blinked, wondering why such a thing had popped into his head. He knew Randi handled these types of assignments all the time. That was her life with the gift. So why was he suddenly remembering what Striker had theorized?
She can foresee danger for others, but not for herself.
“Will you have protection?”
“Protection? What kind of protection?” she asked.
“Bodyguard protection. Someone watching your back.” Suddenly the sight of her backside filled his mind. He couldn’t dismiss the image of her hips swaying with each and every step she took. He’d seen a number of asses in his day but was convinced he’d never seen anything as sensual as hers.
“No, Quasar. I don’t need a bodyguard or anyone watching my back.” She chuckled. “If I did, you’d be the first to know.”
Would I?
“I’ve done all this before, and my life has never been in danger,” she added.
“Just being concerned,” he said, not liking all these thoughts going through his mind.
“That’s awfully sweet of you. I need to start packing since I’m flying out in the morning. I’ll call you when I get back. Then I hope we can reschedule things. Okay?”
“Sounds like a plan, one I’ll look forward to. Have a safe trip, Randi.”
“Thanks, Quasar. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
Quasar clicked off his cell phone and didn’t place it back on the table. Every ounce of good sense warned him to let it go. Randi was right. She didn’t need protection. She did this sort of thing all the time, assisting law enforcement in capturing the bad guys. Hadn’t she done the same thing while in Charlottesville? She hadn’t needed protection then.
Okay, she might not need protection, but...he wanted to see her and would probably use any flimsy-ass excuse to do so. He’d never been obsessed with a woman to the point of considering following her across the country to sniff her out.
But then, Louis had invited him home this weekend. To some damn party to kick off Doyle’s political career. His first thought had been that there was no way in hell he would attend the party. But he would admit that spending time with Randi, seeing her interact with her family and hearing about how close they were had ignited struggles within him. He needed to do what he’d put off doing for years—coming face-to-face with the old man to get some answers once and for all. It was time he dealt with the demons from his past in order to move on fully.
He shook his head. Another flimsy-ass excuse when he knew his main reason for even thinking about hopping a plane tomorrow for the West Coast was Randi.
Quasar paced around his living room a few times, talking himself out of going and then talking himself right back into going. What the hell, he thought, finally making a decision he intended to stick with. He punched in Roland’s number, and it was answered on the first ring. “This is Roland.”
“Roland, this is Quasar. I need to be taken off the work schedule for two weeks starting tomorrow.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, things are fine.”
Since there was no way he’d tell Roland he was going to LA for a woman, he told Roland something that wasn’t the total truth but wasn’t a complete lie, either. “The old man’s been calling. He wants me to come home this weekend. At first I turned him down, but I’ve changed my mind. So I’m going to LA, after all.”
“You okay in doing that?”
Roland was one of the few people in his circle of close friends who knew his history. Namely, the truth about his confinement and his dysfunctional family. “Yes, I’m okay in doing that. About time, don’t you think?”
“Yes, Quasar. I think it’s about time.”
* * *
“IS THERE ANYTHING you need me to do while you’re gone?”
Randi glanced over at Haywood. “No, and you didn’t need to put yourself out to drive me to the airport. I could have taken my own car and left it there until I returned.”
“No problem. Besides, we haven’t had a chance to talk.”
Randi chuckled. “You mean since last weekend when you and Anna had me in the interrogation room?”
Haywood laughed. “Hey, we weren’t that bad, were we?”
Randi shrugged. “No, I guess not. It’s been a long time since the two of you got all into my business that way.”
“Mainly because you hadn’t had any business for us to get into. And speaking of getting some business, are you on the Pill?”
Randi was certain if she hadn’t finished her coffee already, she probably would have choked on it. “The Pill? What brought that question on?”
“A sexy, hot man by the name of Quasar Patterson. Remember him?”
Randi doubted she could forget him. “First, you assumed I went to his hotel room and did the nasty Saturday night. Now you’re asking me if I’m on the Pill. What’s up with you?”
“I fi
gured you went off birth control after your breakup with Larry, thinking you’d never sleep with another man again and all that craziness.”
“You sound like someone who’s been there.”
Haywood chuckled. “How do you think Quad was born? That’s what happens when you hang around a sexy man. Sexual chemistry can be deadly.”
Randi looked at her sister. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
“That’s what I thought, so do your big sis a favor. If you haven’t done so, please go back on the Pill.”
Randi shook her head. “I’m not sexually active. However, I’ve been getting injections for a couple of years...just to be on the safe side.”
“Great! Then you’re good to go.”
Good to go? Randi shook her head again. “Thanks for the words of encouragement. Most big sisters wouldn’t entice their little sisters to go out and act so...”
“Horny?”
Randi smiled. “The word I was thinking of was promiscuous.”
Haywood brought the car to a stop at a traffic light. “Sweetheart, you don’t have a promiscuous bone in your body. You were a virgin before Larry, and you haven’t shared a bed with anyone since.”
“You sure of that?”
Haywood chuckled. “Yes, unless you’re living a double life, which I doubt. And although some of those FBI agents and detectives you get to work closely with at times are probably hot, I just can’t see you getting buck wild.”
Randi couldn’t see herself getting buck wild, either. “So why are you willing to throw me out there to Quasar, spread-eagle and all?”
“Because he’s your mate. Or he will be when the two of you begin seriously dating.”
Randi sighed deeply. “Not sure when that might be since I had to cancel this weekend. I was looking forward to seeing him again. I’ll call him when I get back and try to reschedule his visit.”
Haywood pulled the car up to the curb at the airport for Randi to get out with her luggage. “Give me a hug, sis, and stay safe.”
Randi leaned over and hugged Haywood. “I will, and take care of my brother, nieces and nephews while I’m gone.”
“I can’t imagine my life being any other way. My man and our babies are my heart.”
Randi knew that to be true and looked forward to the day when she would say something like that about her man. An image of Quasar flashed in her mind, and she couldn’t help but smile.
* * *
QUASAR MOVED ASIDE to let the two men enter his apartment. He shook his head as he closed the door behind them. “One day you guys are going to learn to call before just showing up.”
“Why?” Stonewall Courson asked, glancing around. “You have a policy of not bringing women back here anyway.”
Quasar continued walking to his bedroom and wasn’t surprised when they followed. He was packing and didn’t intend to let them slow him down. His plane left later that day. “When did you get back, Stonewall?” His friend had been gone for three weeks, providing bodyguard services to some billionaire playboy who was jet-setting all over the world.
“This morning, and it’s good to be back.”
Quasar chuckled. “Why? You missed your detective?” He was teasing Stonewall about Detective Joy Ingram again since it was no secret Stonewall had the hots for her. Like it was no secret that due to both Stonewall’s and the detective’s crazy work schedules, they still hadn’t gone out on an official date.
“No, I missed you guys.”
“Liar,” Striker said.
Quasar looked at Striker, thinking that was his first word since walking into the apartment. “What’s wrong with you, Striker? Margo decided not to marry you, after all?”
“No. Roland told us you’re headed to Los Angeles.”
“What about it?”
“If you’re finally going back home to give your brother the ass-whipping he deserves, then we need to go with you...”
“I can handle Doyle,” Quasar said, lapsing into Spanish, something he had a tendency to do whenever his strong emotions kicked in about anything.
“I assume you said you can handle Doyle. What about your old man?” Stonewall asked. “Can you handle him, as well? And for heaven’s sake speak English so we can understand you.”
“Yes, I can handle him, as well,” Quasar said, easing back into English. “Any more questions?”
“Yes, there’s another one,” Striker said, pulling a folded piece of newspaper out of the back pocket of his jeans. “According to this article, Dr. Fuller is on her way to Los Angeles and will be working with the FBI on a gang-related case. Now, isn’t that a coincidence that the two of you will be in LA at the same time?”
Keeping a straight face, Quasar said, “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”
“Don’t test my intelligence by saying you didn’t know,” Striker said, narrowing his gaze.
“Wouldn’t think of it.”
“So you’re going to LA mainly for her and not your fucked-up family?”
Quasar tried keeping the grin off his face. “For both.”
Stonewall ignored the back-and-forth banter between the two and glanced into Quasar’s luggage. “I hate to interrupt such interesting conversation, but is there a reason you’re taking your Glock with you to LA? Expecting trouble, Quasar?”
Quasar leaned back against the bedroom dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. He was tempted to tell them about the weird dream he’d had last night. In his dream, Randi had been running—from whom, he didn’t know. But every time she looked over her shoulder, there was a look of intense fear in her eyes. He didn’t know why he’d dreamed such a thing and figured it might have to do with that damn pizza he’d eaten before bedtime. All those onions, peppers and garlic might have gone his brain. But still, he’d awakened that morning with a funny feeling in his gut about it that wouldn’t go away.
“I take my Glock whenever I travel,” he said. “And as far as expecting trouble, the answer is no. However...”
Both men stared at him. “However, what?” Striker asked.
Quasar met both men’s gazes in turn. “However, trouble has a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.”
CHAPTER TEN
“DR. FULLER?”
Randi, who was in baggage claim waiting for her luggage to appear on the conveyor belt, had to strain her neck to look up into the man’s face. He had to be every bit of six-four, probably thirty-five or -six years in age, and was ruggedly handsome with a charming smile. “Yes, I’m Dr. Fuller.”
He extended his hand. “I’m Special Agent Jarez Riviera. Welcome to Los Angeles. We appreciate you coming.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll grab your bags off the carousel. How many do you have?”
“Just one. It’s that twenty-one-inch piece coming toward us now.”
She moved aside as he effortlessly snagged her luggage, which she knew was close to the fifty-pound max limit. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I have a car waiting for us at the curb.”
Instead of relinquishing his hold on her luggage, he pulled it for her. She appreciated it since that meant she needed to maneuver only her carry-on while she did everything she could to keep up with his long strides.
“Sorry,” he said, glancing back at her when he noticed she had fallen behind. “I have a tendency to walk fast.” He then slowed his pace for her benefit.
“That’s okay.”
“First time in LA?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “No. I’ve been here a few times.”
Randi was curious about the status of the gangs, but with so many people around, she knew that now was not a good time to discuss it. “So, Agent Riviera, were you born and raised in LA?”
“As a matter of fact, I wa
s. However, I’ve been back only three years now. That’s how the FBI operates. They seldom allow you to remain in the same place more than two to three years. They like moving you around.”
“I know. I used to work for the Bureau full-time as a behavioral analyst.” She’d gotten to know a lot of agents while at Quantico.
“So I heard. I understand you stayed for only two years.”
“Yes. They had restrictions about me assisting other branches of the law with my psychic abilities. I agreed to continue to be an instructor for them as a freelancer. That way I’m not limited on whom I can help.”
“Here we are,” he said, stopping at a black sedan parked at the curb. He opened the trunk and placed her luggage inside. “We’ve made reservations for you at a hotel close to headquarters. You had a long flight, so we want you to relax and get some rest. We’ll be by in the morning to take you to the crime scene.”
When he opened the door for her, she slid inside the car. “There’s really no need to rest up since I slept a lot on the plane. If it’s all the same to you, Agent Riviera, I’d rather check into my room to freshen up a bit and then meet with your team. If possible, I’d like to look at the crime scene today. The sooner we can bring to justice the person or persons responsible for the death of Esther Emiliano, the sooner we can head off a gang war.”
A relieved smile touched Agent Riviera’s lips. “I was hoping you’d say that. And just so you know, as much as we wanted to keep your involvement in the case under wraps, it’s now public information. It was mentioned on the news this morning that you were coming, and there was also an article in this morning’s paper about it.”
Randi nodded. “That’s the least of my worries. My main concern is to help stop any unnecessary bloodshed.”
* * *
“I HEARD ON the news that the Feds have called in a psychic investigator.” Shane Griffin had to talk louder than normal since the arcade was noisy.
The man he was talking to didn’t even look up. Instead he proceeded to drop more change into the pinball machine for another game. “Did you hear what I said, Rick?” Shane asked, just in case he hadn’t been heard over the blaring sounds from the speakers.
Seized by Seduction--A Compelling Tale of Romance, Love and Intrigue Page 9
