CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
RANDI PEERED THROUGH the one-way glass to study the young man sitting at the table in interrogation room G11. She wanted to believe that buried somewhere beneath his roguish features was a baby face. No way angelic but nothing close to felonious, either. Judging from his appearance, he was definitely not anyone she would want to encounter at night on a deserted street. The word badass was written all over him, from the tattoo of his gang’s emblem on one side of his neck and up his arm to the overgrown spiked hair with sections looking whacked off in some places.
He wore a jacket that proudly boasted his gang colors, and his jeans had more holes than Swiss cheese. Impressing anyone wasn’t part of what he was about. Intimidation was the name of his game.
It was obvious Maceo Emiliano was angry. He emanated nervous energy, getting up out the chair every so often to pace, looking around as if he needed something to kick—the chair was his victim a few times—before sitting down again to tap his restless fingers on the edge of the table. He would be doubly pissed if he knew he was being watched, studied and analyzed.
“You sure you want to be alone with him in there?”
Randi didn’t have to wonder who’d come up behind her. Both his voice and sensual heat gave Quasar away. And of course there was his scent, masculine and clean with sexy undertones. He was standing close but not too close, although all she had to do was take a couple of steps back and her body would smack up against his. Her backside would be pressed against his hard middle. Just the thought had her senses reeling.
She tilted her head to stare over her shoulder into the depths of his dark eyes. Forcing back the pang of desire that suddenly swept through her, she said, “The question you might want to ask is whether or not he wants to be alone with me.”
She heard Quasar’s soft chuckle. “You take one man down and you think you’re invincible, huh?”
Randi was glad she heard amusement in his tone. “No, but I don’t scare easily.”
“No, you don’t. And I’m trying to figure out if that’s a good thing or not.”
She slowly switched her gaze from Quasar to the one-way glass. Emiliano was pacing again, and she could tell from his body movements he was getting angrier by the second. “Well, it’s time for the two of us to be introduced.”
Quasar stepped back to give her space, but when she turned around, he gently grabbed hold of her arm. “Let me go in there with you, as your protector. I won’t say a word, and I won’t make a move unless I have to.”
She patted the hand holding her arm, needing the contact probably more than he did. “Thanks. Agent Riviera made the same offer, but if either of you is there—a man with obvious authority and packing a firearm to back it up—he’ll feel threatened and will go on the defense. If I’m alone, he’ll think he has the upper hand and might even try using it. He will discover quickly enough how wrong he is.”
Randi could tell from Quasar’s expression he didn’t particularly care for what she’d said or how she intended to deal with Emiliano. “If he gets out of line, his ass belongs to me,” he all but snarled.
She didn’t like the sound of that. “Don’t interfere, Quasar. If I need your or anyone’s help, I will give a signal.”
He lifted a brow. “What signal?”
She smiled. “You will know it.”
She heard Agent Riviera approach. “Sorry for leaving like that, but I got an important call,” he said.
“No problem,” Randi said. “I was just reiterating to Quasar the same thing I need to stress to you and your team, Agent Riviera. Once I walk into that room, I don’t want any interference.”
Like Quasar, the agent allowed a rebellious look to cross his gaze. “I can’t make you that promise, Dr. Fuller, but I will give you my word to do my best.”
It was only moments later, when she was being escorted to the interrogation room, that she realized Quasar hadn’t made a promise or given his word one way or the other.
* * *
QUASAR STOOD THERE with his arms across his chest and watched her go. A part of him wanted to hit something. Shit, he wouldn’t have minded knocking the hell out of Riviera. Quasar hadn’t missed how the man had checked out Randi’s ass when she began the walk down the hall toward the interrogation room. Male appreciation—he understood it, although he didn’t like it when it came from anyone but him.
“We can observe things better from here,” Agent Riviera said, intruding into his thoughts.
Instead of saying anything, he followed the man to a connecting room that had a one-way glass. Unlike the one he and Randi had been peering into before, this provided a floor-to-ceiling view. They could observe without missing a thing. And the speakers were great. They could clearly hear an impatient Emiliano cursing under his breath. Quasar meant what he’d told Randi. If Emiliano gave any hint of getting out of line, he would regret the day he was born. He glanced around, and as if Riviera read his thoughts, the man pointed to another door. “That leads into the room if there’s a need. But we’ll do what Dr. Fuller requested and let her handle things.”
Speak for your own damn self.
“How about a cup of coffee?” Riviera asked him.
Quasar shook his head. “No, thanks.”
Agent Riviera sat at the table across from him after pouring his own cup. “So you’re Louis Patterson’s son.”
Quasar didn’t say anything. Nor did he wonder how Riviera knew. The man was FBI, after all. “What of it?” he asked, meeting Riviera’s stare.
“Nothing.”
Quasar had to agree with the man. Being Louis Patterson’s son meant nothing. They both shifted their attention when the door opened and Detective Sutherland strolled in with his own cup of coffee. Without saying anything, he sat down at the table.
Quasar refused to acknowledge the man’s presence. Something had Sutherland in a bad mood...not that Quasar could recall ever seeing him in a good one. Except earlier today, when he was hitting on Randi. Quasar leaned back in his chair, thinking that not on the man’s life would that ever happen. Definitely not on this planet while Quasar still had breath in his body. He pushed the annoying notion out of his mind that his feelings were totally territorial, possessive, as Striker claimed.
* * *
RANDI OPENED THE DOOR and stepped in. “Mr. Emiliano, sorry to keep you waiting and—”
Maceo was out of his chair in a flash, rounding on her. “Bitch, it took you long enough. I want to get out of here, so do what you have to do to make that happen.”
If he expected her to cower in fear, he was mistaken. Instead she took a step forward and matched his tone. “First of all, my name is not bitch. It’s Randi Fuller,” she said, deciding for the time being to omit her PhD status. “I’m an investigator, not someone from the public defender’s office.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing here? I already said I’m not talking.”
Randi tilted her head and stared at him. He was only a few inches taller than she was. “Great. I don’t want you to talk anyway. I mainly want you to listen.” She went around him to sit down at the table.
Maceo stared as if he didn’t know what to make of her. And then, regaining his bluster, he said, “Listen, bitch, I told you—”
“And I told you what my name is. I will respect who you are, Mr. Emiliano, and expect you to do the same.”
“I don’t give a fuck about any respect.”
“Maybe you should. And maybe you should listen to what I have to say. I have a message for you.”
His brows lifted. He was curious.
Time ticked by and he remained standing there, just staring at her. Finally he said, “What message and who’s it from?”
Now, this was where it could get dicey. He would either believe or not believe. “I told you who I am. What I did
n’t tell you is what I do.”
“Who gives a damn?”
“I suggest you do. Let me reintroduce myself. My name is Dr. Randi Fuller, and I’m a psychic investigator.”
That got her the glare of all glares. “Psychic investigator? Then I think your pretty little ass walked into the wrong room,” he blasted.
“Not by a long shot,” she blasted back.
“I don’t believe in all that shit.”
She shrugged. “Most people don’t. But I’m not the one who’s going to convince you I’m legit. Someone else will, and that person will tell you that the Revengers had nothing to do with your mother’s death and that the persons who betrayed you and murdered your mother were two of your own trusted gang members.”
He was across the room in a flash, anger radiating from him. “None of my members would dare, bitch.”
She anticipated his next move, and before he could reach out and jerk her out of the chair, she used her legs to knock his out from beneath him, sending him tumbling to the floor. When he thought to get up, she kicked his legs from under him again and sent him plummeting back down. She stood over him with her arms crossed over her chest. “I forgot to mention that I’m a fifth-degree black belt. You know what that means, since you took karate as a child.”
He was about to get up again, but her words made him stay still, a strange look on his face. “Who told you that? That I used to take karate lessons?”
Satisfied that she had his attention, Randi pulled a chair from the table and sat back down. “The same person who told me about your karate teacher, Mr. Hammer, and how much you liked him. I also know about that time when, after your father died, you ran away from home and spent the night at the karate studio before you were found by one of your mother’s neighbors.”
Maceo slowly eased up, staring oddly. Then in a demanding tone, he said, “Tell me who told you that, bitch.”
Instead of telling him anything, she warned, “Don’t call me a bitch again or you will be sorry.”
After letting her threat sink in, she continued. “Then there was the time you found Ms. Kushner’s cat in that sewer and you went in there to get it out and nearly got stuck in there yourself. And the time you got lost on your first trip to the mall by yourself. Or the fact that you and Jason Overstreet, the leader of the Revengers, have history that goes way back, when the two of you were in Mr. Hammer’s karate class and were best friends.”
He loomed over Randi. “I want to know who told you that.”
At least he hadn’t called her a bitch again. “First, you will sit in that chair. And the next time you come at me, I will maim you for life. You aren’t stupid. You know what a fifth-degree black belt is capable of.”
Maceo stood there, sizing her up. Then, as if he’d made a decision, he snagged the chair from the table and sat down. He glared at her. “I’m listening.”
She shifted in her chair to look at him. “The person who told me those things is the only person who knew about all of them.” She paused to let that sink in. “Your mother.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
QUASAR WATCHED AS SHOCK followed by denial appeared on Maceo Emiliano’s features. Just like Sutherland and Riviera, he’d been observing the proceedings with a keen eye and sharp ear. During that time when it had appeared Emiliano intended to strike out at Randi, Quasar had been the first one out his chair with his gun drawn and heading for the connecting door. With his gun drawn, as well, Sutherland had been right on his heels.
Riviera had shouted at them to stop before either he or Sutherland had reached the door. Riviera had then made them see that Randi had everything under control when she had knocked Emiliano on his ass.
“I can’t believe she has him sitting there and listening,” Riviera said when they were seated back at the table.
“You would be, too, if Dr. Fuller was telling you the shit she’s telling him. Straight from his dead mother. Kind of eerie,” Sutherland said. “Damn. I didn’t know he and Overstreet had history. Did you, Riviera?”
“No,” Agent Riviera replied. “From what I’m hearing, it appears they were recruited by rival gangs.”
The room got quiet again as they continued to listen to Randi relaying messages apparently from Emiliano’s mother. A dead woman. Quasar agreed with Sutherland that it was kind of eerie. But eerie or not, what Randi was saying to Emiliano evidently was getting through to him. For once he was keeping his mouth shut and listening. That in itself was hard to believe.
When Randi revealed the names of his mother’s killers and further went on to explain why they in turn had been brutally killed, it was as if pieces of a puzzle were being put together. Emiliano tried holding it together as he stood with his back to Randi, but Quasar, Sutherland and Riviera were able to see his face. Broken. Tormented. Defeated.
Quasar’s gaze shifted to Randi. She wasn’t saying anything as she gave Emiliano time to compose himself. Quasar continued to stare at her, admiring her ability to do this work. Use her gift in this way. Randi alone wouldn’t have been able to reach him. But Randi’s words weren’t really hers, and Emiliano knew that. Randi was just the messenger. Through Randi his mother had told him that the Revengers were not responsible for her death. This was the first time Quasar had witnessed such a thing, and he figured the same was true for Sutherland and Riviera. Randi’s gift was special, and they all knew it.
“I don’t know if I could handle something like this if I were in his shoes,” Quasar heard Sutherland say. “If that was me, I would want to hurt somebody, namely the bastard who’s still out there. Ms. Emiliano’s death was brutal and senseless. Damn. Just for power.”
“Then we owe it to Ms. Emiliano to arrest the person responsible for her death and bring him to justice,” Agent Riviera said. “Randi’s done her part in reaching out to her son. Now it’s time for us to do ours.”
* * *
RANDI DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING as she watched Maceo Emiliano. His back was to her, but she knew he was hurting. Hurting for the mother he’d so brutally lost and for two people he’d thought were friends who not only had betrayed his trust but also had been responsible for ending his mother’s life.
“Are there others?” he asked.
“Others?” she repeated.
He turned around. “Yes. Are other Warlords besides Rick and Shane responsible?”
She studied his face, his entire disposition, and knew he was fighting hard to hold himself in check. Pain shone in his eyes along with a semblance of regret. “Those two were the only ones your mother revealed to me. But the leader is out there. The man who paid them to start the gang war.”
Suddenly his lips tightened with an angry curl. “I want to know who he is.”
“We all want to know who he is. He intentionally played the Warlords against the Revengers. Both the FBI and local authorities are trying to gather information to bring that person to justice.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute. Then, shoving his hands into his pockets, he said, “Do you have any idea what they did to her? I will issue my own justice.”
Randi drew in a deep breath. “I know what they did to her. She showed me. Every single detail. And you heard her message, Maceo. She doesn’t want you to avenge her death. She wants you to let the authorities handle it.”
Maceo stared at her for a long minute, and then he slid down in the chair and covered his face with his hands. “I don’t know if I can. She was my mom. What they did to her was inhumane. She didn’t deserve that. Mom didn’t deserve it.”
Randi gave him a moment to collect himself before saying, “You know what you need to do, Maceo. It’s what your mother asked you to do now that you know the truth. Only you and Overstreet can stop the war.”
Maceo suddenly snapped his head up and quickly stood. “It might be too late.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, beginning to feel uneasy.
“We were so sure the Revengers were responsible for Mom’s, Rick’s and Shane’s deaths that we...”
Randi stood, as well. When Maceo didn’t continue, she asked tensely, “You what?”
“We put a plan into place. The war starts today, with or without me. And it’s too late to stop it.”
Randi looked beyond him to where she knew men were sitting on the other side of the one-way glass. Certain they’d heard everything, she motioned for them. Then, looking back at Maceo, she said, “I just summoned men you need to trust. They’re the only chance we have to stop that war from happening.”
* * *
“I CAN’T BELIEVE Quasar hasn’t returned your call, Dad. It’s just like him to mess something up. I talked to Dwayne Connors yesterday. Everything is all set to go. If we can get Quasar to come back to the company, and anything goes wrong, we’ll have him to take the fall like the last time.”
Louis glanced up as Doyle walked into the study. He leaned back in his chair. “Hey, don’t get upset about anything. Quasar’s just being an ass, as usual, Doyle. I told him why he was needed. There’s no other reason for him to have come to LA, so the way I figure things, he wants to call the shots. I guess he won’t ever learn. And in the end, he will come back. When he does, everything will fall in place just like we planned.”
“And you think you can convince him to work for the company?”
“Yes. I’ll make him feel needed, especially with you becoming mayor. I’ll convince him that his help is required since your time will be tied up in politics. Once he’s in place, we will have Connors get things started. Ideally we won’t ever be discovered, but if we are, Quasar can take the blame again.”
“Good. Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, Dad.”
“I do. And regardless of whether he attends the party or not, the announcement will be made tonight regarding your political aspirations. If anyone asks about Quasar, we’ll say his arrival has been delayed or something.” Louis paused before asking, “Did you tell Lilly that Quasar is back in town?”
Seized by Seduction--A Compelling Tale of Romance, Love and Intrigue Page 20
