Searching (PAVAD- FBI Romantic Suspense Book 18)

by Calle J. Brookes

  But now…he had to do what was needed to secure that money. Tuition for the winter term was due in two weeks. And he wanted to move Ava into kindergarten early. She was certainly clever enough, but it might take a sizeable donation to achieve. The school could be resistant because of her age, though there had been grade advancements made before.

  He’d managed it with Olivia.

  It took little to get himself inside the reasonably sized ranch-style home that Jaclyn owned. For an experienced FBI agent, Paul would have expected Jaclyn to have better security on her home.

  Of course, Rachel had stated that it was a new place. Still, the system she had wasn’t sophisticated. He was in within moments.

  Perhaps she felt that she had nothing to worry about. That she was safe where she was. It was a nice neighborhood. Not as affluent as Paul’s, of course. But he had worked hard to build his IT consultant business over the last five years, narrowing his market focus to only the more lucrative government contracts.

  He was also thirteen years older than Jaclyn. Paul had had time to build on the company he had inherited from his brother.

  Time Jaclyn hadn’t had yet. At a year younger than Rachel, Jaclyn was young enough to still be building her profession. And her investment portfolio. She had a very healthy investment portfolio.

  The woman didn’t have to be working at all. That she did was just another contradiction that fascinated him.

  Paul was routinely fascinated by the women he watched.

  He had dug deeply into her human resources file. Learned all about her that he could. Even her psych evals had been in those files. It had started off with him looking for information to be used against her.

  But that had changed within a few hours. He’d found himself becoming intrigued by her. She was a fascinating, brilliant woman. One that pulled him on every level. Her background as a diplomat’s daughter was absolutely impeccable.

  She had connections he once would have cut off his own arm to make.

  Perhaps, he should encourage Rachel to cultivate a relationship with Jaclyn. It could be advantageous.

  He stepped inside the midsized, midcentury ranch-style home confidently, just south of the city. If anyone was watching, it would look as if he belonged. A guest, perhaps.

  The house smelled feminine. There had been flowers on the porch. Mums, he believed they were called. Rachel loved flowers as well. It was something feminine that she and Jaclyn shared.

  Paul had to admit flowers were a nice touch to making a home.

  Rachel…she didn’t compare to Jaclyn now.

  Rachel was questioning him too often about where the extra funds were coming from. She’d found files; files she knew he wasn’t supposed to have.

  Files on people she knew from Brynlock.

  That could prove very dangerous. If she opened her mouth to the wrong people, it could ruin everything Paul was working toward. Or it could get them the wrong sort of attention.

  He couldn’t afford for her to blow this opportunity for him. For them, for the children. He would have to discuss that with her again—once he found out what he could about this new friend of hers.

  The hallway had hardwood. It looked like someone had recently repaired it. He wondered if it had been Jaclyn or if she had paid to let strangers into her house to do it. Her hands were delicate; he couldn’t see her holding power tools and doing manual labor. That was not something her type of woman engaged in.

  His lips thinned.

  He didn’t like the idea of strange men anywhere near her. That could just be dangerous. The men who had paid him to dig into her were dangerous. Very, very dangerous.

  The last agent he’d investigated had been killed. A bullet right between the eyes. Paul had sweated about that for a week until he’d realized no one had connected him to that man.

  It was a deadly game Paul was playing now.

  He’d seen Jaclyn again in the St. Louis field office two days after the carnival. He’d had a consult with the head of the new PAVAD: Cold Case department on what type of system they would be using. The man hadn’t moved offices to the PAVAD building yet.

  Paul was supposed to feel him out somehow. He was to find out how the other man felt about PAVAD—and what had happened to him the night he had been shot in his own apartment.

  Paul hadn’t gathered the courage to ask the man that.

  Dr. Knight was one terrifying bastard. The people who were paying Paul probably didn’t realize that.

  But the men who had hired him wanted Dr. Knight, too.

  Paul wasn’t certain why Jaclyn had been there that day. She’d had a stack of files in her hands. Jaclyn had been laughing with another, taller redheaded young woman who had an equally large stack of files.

  He had had a hard time not staring that day. Not leaving Dr. Knight standing and just going after Jaclyn.

  Just to talk to her.

  He wanted to get close enough to talk to her. To have her attention on him. At least for a few moments. He was only human. A man, after all. Jaclyn Jones was a beautiful, cultured, sophisticated woman.

  He had always wished for a woman like that. Rachel was as close as he had ever gotten. But even she…had faults.

  Paul was faithful to Rachel, and he would remain so. He had little respect for men who cheated on the wives dependent on them. That wasn’t the type of man Paul was, but Paul could fantasize about other women as often as he wanted.

  When he was thinking about her, the stress he felt from trying to make all of this work just somehow melted away. Paul didn’t have much time, though he had checked the PAVAD database to find her exact location.

  Jaclyn and her team would be in Vermont at least through the next day. The killer they were chasing hadn’t yet been identified, as far as Paul knew. He would take his time. Learn everything he could about her. What she liked, what she didn’t.

  Who she loved.

  He started with the half-dozen photos she had spread around the room. Six photos.

  There was a young, dark-haired woman who greatly resembled Jaclyn. Her sister, most likely. Beautiful, in the same classic way. Jaclyn’s personnel file had referenced another woman in the division as being a relative.

  The woman he vaguely recalled seeing at the FBI building was in another photo with Jaclyn. Tall, statuesque, redheaded. A good friend, possibly. That same woman was in a group photo with Jaclyn and a bunch of other attractive young women, surrounding an older lady.

  The older woman was patting Jaclyn’s hand where it rested on her shoulder. They were in front of a building that had a sign: The Talley Inn. He took a photo of it with his own phone. He would find out exactly who they were—and what connection they had to Jaclyn.

  He was being paid for information, after all.

  The next photograph was of the Jones child from at least a few years ago. Emery, he believed her name was.

  A beautiful girl. She had her arms wrapped around Jaclyn’s neck from behind. They were both smiling fully at the camera. The sun shone through their red hair, though their hair was of differing shades.

  He wondered who had taken that photograph. What relationship the photographer had with Jaclyn.

  It had most likely been Emery’s father. Max Jones. That made the most sense, and they were close. That man could prove a problem. Paul had dug through his file, too.

  The next two photographs were older. Jaclyn’s mother, he suspected. She held a small girl in her arms whom he knew was Jaclyn. The hair and smile were very distinctive. She had been a classically beautiful child who had grown into a perfectly beautiful woman. Her mother had been a senator’s daughter, he believed. Her class and sophistication shown through the faded print.

  He scanned each photograph with his phone. Information was golden, after all.

  The last photograph was of Jaclyn, her sister, and a few women he recognized from PAVAD. Her friends. The PAVAD building was visible in the distance.

  Interesting.

  He saw no
indication she had many connections outside of the FBI. Just those women at the inn.

  Perhaps on his next trip, he would check out the Talley Inn. Once he figured out where it was, and her connection.

  He’d slipped his shoes off at the door. He buried his toes in the rose carpet that was obviously new in the living room. She should have gone with the more luxurious hardwood like she had in the hallway. Rose was a ridiculously feminine color for carpeting. Very impractical.

  But then again, Jaclyn Jones was an exceptionally feminine woman.

  Paul wasn’t too thrilled that she had been targeted, though.

  Perhaps he could misdirect them somehow. They trusted him somewhat. He had proven his worth to them several weeks ago. For a very hefty sum.

  He could make it clear there was nothing on Jaclyn that they would ever be able to use. He had a very specific list of things they were looking for, after all. He could play the gallant, even if she never knew. Rescue her, much like he had Rachel.

  He could do that—but if that pissed them off, he could lose this contract. His most lucrative contract.

  Paul wasn’t ready to do that. Not with Olivia and Ava’s upbringing to consider. Jaclyn would be but a small price to pay for that.

  He reclined on her bed. Smelled the light floral scent on her pillow. Paul uncapped her shampoo and just breathed it in for a long while. Fantasizing.

  He would stop at the store on his way home, buy the same brand for Rachel. That would have to do for now. He’d just close his eyes and imagine…

  Rachel was a poor warm-up for being with a woman like Jaclyn.

  Before he left, he made certain every sign of his presence was erased. She was an excellent agent, with more than a dozen notes of recognition in her file.

  It wouldn’t pay to be stupid about things.

  He never had been stupid before. Rash, careless, impulsive—once or twice.

  Paul had learned from past mistakes.

  Paul had a plan to create. Part of success was taking time to always plan properly. It would just be a matter of time until he had her right where he wanted her.

  But first...he had other things he had to take care of now.

  17

  Jac was greeted with the news that Max was taking the CCU2 position when she stepped into the PAVAD building a week after Emery’s school carnival, a day after she made it back from Vermont.

  Miranda delighted in telling her. She always had been the one to go to for finding out internal gossip, although Miranda was never malicious about it. And it was just between her and Jac. “Apparently, our hot and handsome Dr. Jones will be bouncing from Team Five to Team Two in three days.”

  “What about Malachi? Where is he going?” Jac asked, placing her bag on the desk that was pushed up next to Miranda’s with just a partition to separate them. They had desks in the CCU bullpen, but were routinely still assigned to working on the CEPD team when needed. They had their own desks there, too.

  Miranda liked to joke that they were the vagabonds of PAVAD.

  PAVAD had a habit of shuffling agents around when needed. Jac and Miranda more than most. They were adaptable.

  Jac had been nervous of that at first, but now that she was more seasoned, she understood the reasoning behind it. And fully agreed with it. She and Miranda were the floaters—going between the Child Exploitation Prevention Division and the CCU.

  At any one time, the director of the CCU could grab an agent or two from each team and create a fast, mobile, and effective extra team to send out where needed. Officially, there were five full six-member teams in the CCU. But PAVAD teams operated efficiently with as little as four agents working together at a time. The units were designed that way.

  Two additional teams could form in an instant, teams that had agents who had worked together before time and time again. Sometimes, the expertise of the CEPD was needed as part of the CCU.

  It was a rather clever setup that she had rarely seen in the FBI before. But it worked. Fortunately for Jac, she liked most of the people in the CCU and CPED and didn’t mind working with any of them.

  “Mal’s moving into heading up the entire psychological analysis department. That new department they are talking about expanding. Once they get enough profilers to fill it. More of Director Ed shuffling the cards, I think.” Miranda shot Jac a significant look. One that said Miranda was going to meddle again. The woman had a problem—a real problem—when it came to trying to direct her friends’ lives. Probably from being the oldest of her siblings and cousins. Since they were all up in Wyoming, she had somehow transferred that habit to her closest friends. Top of that list was Jac. “I think you should take the exam with me. We can both go around head-shrinking people. Official profilers. It’ll be fun. And we won’t have to hop all around the country nearly as much—we’d have time to shoe shop and get actual manicures done. We could go to the border collie rescue. Get us some puppies. Have puppy playdates and use the same puppy day care. Find a gorgeous set of brothers outside of PAVAD to take us on walks and to the park.”

  “Are you talking about men? Or puppies?”

  “Either. Both, for that matter. Two gorgeous brothers with puppies? We use our puppies to meet hot, handsome, single veterinarians who don’t have to worry about catching bad guys?”

  “You really need to get out more, Randi.”

  Miranda had mentioned taking the profilers’ exam before, and Jac had given it serious consideration. But her educational background was in computer software design. Maybe someday, after she’d spent a few more years on the job. She could do profiling if she had to—and she had, with Max as a supervisor—but she wasn’t certain she could pass the rigorous exam involved. Not yet. “I’m not sure I’d pass.”

  “I have no doubt that you would. You’re one of the best I know at understanding how people think. And predicting how they will behave. You have half the profilers in this building beat. We both know that. So do Malachi, Hellbrook, and Sebastian, for that matter. Your problem is a lack of confidence. And the fact that you think you’re invisible and that no one sees you. Or that you’ll never live up to expectations. Yours…or anyone else’s.”

  Jac couldn’t refute that. Not really. Miranda knew her strengths and weaknesses just like Jac knew Miranda’s. Sometimes, Miranda got so convinced she was right about something that she missed what was staring her directly in the face.

  That was going to cause Miranda trouble someday—Jac just knew it.

  Jac didn’t feel quite as confident in her profiling skills as Miranda was in her own. Put a computer in Jac’s hand and she could do what needed to be done. Put a rifle in her hand—and the same thing.

  Competitive shooting in college in Virginia had gained her notice by Ed Dennis himself.

  She’d done what she had to do not even four months ago when her friend Shannon had been endangered by a hired killer. Jac still relived that moment in her sleep. She could still see that man’s eyes as he’d died. She’d go to her grave knowing she’d put him in his.

  But predicting how people would behave in extreme emotional circumstances? She just didn’t trust herself in that regard. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to predict that. “I’m not so sure about that. But I’m happy for Max. He’ll be a good leader.”

  “No doubt about that.” Miranda leaned forward. “And the best part? The other agent up for the position was none other than Todd Barnes. I heard he’s not too happy Max got it and not him.”

  Jac just stared. She’d seen the man walking around PAVAD earlier, but she’d assumed the ones stuck with him in Texas had just been using him as a courier again. From what she’d heard before, Todd Barnes was sent just about everywhere he could be—so no one truly had to deal with him full-time. “Barnes? Seriously? He’s not PAVAD material. And definitely not CCU.”

  PAVAD had a very definite structure. Each division worked efficiently together. They were all parts of the cog.

  Except the CCU. The CCU was the most unique
division in bureau history. The people who worked PAVAD, who worked the CCU specifically, they were the FBI’s best. Everyone knew that, and the last four years had just proven that. A jerk like Todd Barnes had no business being there. Ever.

  “That’s what everyone else is saying, too. I guess we’re just going to have to watch what happens. Anyway, Barnes is going to be our Max’s problem for now.”

  No kidding.

  The last thing Max needed was Todd Barnes screwing everything up just as he was taking the helm of his team. If he was a team leader, she’d inevitably end up working for him at some point. That was the nature of PAVAD. “I’m glad for Max. He deserves this.”

  Max worked hard and took promotions and success as they came his way, but she didn’t think he had burning passions that urged him on. Max wasn’t the type to claw himself to the top, pushing others out of his way. No.

  He was far better suited to being part of a team than a man with ultimate power. He could lead. And he could lead well. He was quick, intelligent, fair…

  A CCU team-leader position was perfect for him.

  He’d worked hard, and had earned it. The pride she felt in that didn’t surprise her at all.

  Pre-superkiss, Jac would have willingly volunteered to work on any team he ran. She’d trust Max with her life—in a heartbeat. More importantly, she’d trust Max with Miranda and Nat’s. Unconditionally.

  Unfortunately, she no longer trusted the man with her virtue. Not after the carnival.

  She hadn’t even told Miranda that yet, though. Maybe she was imagining it. It had just been a few casual touches. A few hot looks. Maybe. She could be reading more into it than was there. Maybe because of the Kiss-That-Never-Should-Have-Been.

  Jac didn’t know anymore. She never had been very good at the whole male/female kind of thing. Max had thrown everything into a tailspin with those lips of his. By the time she’d recovered enough to think, the man had hightailed it out of there.

  “Yes, he does. And you can congratulate him at Emery’s birthday party tomorrow, too. Better yet, send Emery home with a little buddy, get Max naked, and cover that impressive chest of his with birthday cake and icing. Then enjoy the snack.”