Searching (PAVAD- FBI Romantic Suspense Book 18)

by Calle J. Brookes

  “But that means there are still ten out there. No reason to assume this is the Sturvin kid’s,” Barnes said.

  “It’s hers. I can confirm that,” Max said.

  “DNA will have to prove it, but for the time being, we’ll act as if it is. They’ll find my DNA on it, too. I’ve held it before. At Max’s house, and at the girls’ last basketball game. I know this kid, Barnes. It’s Ava’s. It’s all we have to go on. She was here. Now, we have to find her and her sister.” Jac turned to Max, afraid to let her hope show. “They were here. And from the handprints, they were alive.”

  It was far more than they’d had before.

  55

  Miranda scratched at the area above the cast with frustration. She hated being sidelined like this. She wanted to be out there doing something productive, something that was going to get them just that much closer to finding those little girls.

  Every time they were mentioned, Jac got a look of intense pain in her eyes. Miranda doubted the other woman knew that it was there, but Miranda hadn’t missed it. She didn’t think Max had missed it, either.

  On the outside, Jac was acting the professional, but on the inside, the other woman was barely holding herself together.

  Her friend was hurting.

  Miranda wanted to find a way to fix that.

  She stood. There was the whiteboard, and it could use some updating. She might not be out there physically searching for those girls, but she could find something here that helped.

  Whit came in the conference room, long, lanky, broad-shouldered, and adorable with his shaggy caramel-colored hair and big puppy-dog-brown eyes. He didn’t look as much like a kid as he had when she had first met him five or six years ago. He’d grown into himself or something. He was a few years older than Miranda. And always seemed so alone now.

  That was going to be her next project, once she fixed Jac and Max. Finding a woman for Whit. He deserved it. He was one of the best men—and agents—that she knew. And he had information for her.

  “They found the car; signs of the girls were in it. They are calling the search teams out now.”

  Miranda prayed it would be enough. That they would find those girls and soon.

  “Any word on Paul Sturvin?” The man had to be out there somewhere.

  “Not yet.”

  She would have said more, but her phone buzzed. A quick check of the screen had her glancing at Whit in surprise. “It’s the director. He wants me in his office ASAP.”

  “Go. I’ll take over here.”

  “Keep me posted on anything from Jac or Max, ok?”

  “Gotcha.” He nodded, shooting her a rare smile. Whit used to smile a lot in the early days. PAVAD had changed him. Miranda made herself a vow. She was going to have to find a way to fix Whit, too.

  Someone had to do it, after all. It might as well be her.

  56

  Ed clutched the envelope close. It was a standard envelope, manila and large. Old. The contents had haunted him for twelve years now. The envelope was starting to show its age. Perhaps he should put it in a clean envelope, but that almost felt disrespectful in a way. Sacrilegious.

  This file...it was the last one Darrin Hull had ever touched. Darrin. Twenty-eight years old at the time someone had tracked him and his wife and two young children down and executed them, along with a relative of Darrin’s wife.

  In their own home.

  Darrin had been the most junior agent on Ed’s team before Ed had moved into more administrative roles within the bureau.

  Ed had stood at the back of the crowd at Darrin’s family’s quintuple funeral and made the dead father a vow.

  He was going to see this case solved. He owed it to Darrin. To Theresa, Darrin’s wife. She’d been all of twenty-four when she’d been shot straight between the eyes. To Lois, Theresa’s grandmother who’d lived with them.

  Theresa and Lois had done nothing to deserve what had happened to them. Nor had Darrin.

  The children certainly hadn’t.

  It was their children that he couldn’t forget. The youngest had been two.

  Ed’s granddaughter Evalyn was a little over two now. The older Hull child had been four.

  Four.

  Defenseless.

  He would have been sixteen now.

  Ed had seven boys of his own; the adoption papers had been finalized eighteen months ago. The three older boys were around that age now, sixteen-year-old twins and seventeen-year-old Nate.

  They had their whole lives ahead of them.

  Darrin Hull’s son should have his life ahead of him, too.

  “Give it to Agent Gabriella Sloane, at the Indianapolis field office. I want her to take one more look at this before she retires.” His old friend deserved to retire without shadows over her own head.

  Darrin would always be a shadow—until they had the answers. Or a ghost that had haunted them both for far too long.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll put it in her hands personally.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that. This is the original case file. I have other copies, if Gabriella asks.”

  “Should I expect anything in return?”

  Ed shook his head. “But watch your back. I...it’s been twelve years, but I’m not sure the ones responsible aren’t still...a part of the bureau. With eyes and ears everywhere.”

  Green eyes widened when she looked at him. There was a great deal of intelligence in those eyes. And in her file.

  Miranda Talley was the same height as Ed. She had a direct, open manner about her. Trustworthiness. She was as honest as she was open. He liked that about her. She also had one of the sharpest minds in the bureau—and was very loyal. “No one knows I’m sending this with you. I’d like to keep it that way. Call me when you get there.”

  “Director?” She looked down at the file in her hand. “Is there anything I can do to help? I...recognize the name. I saw it in the cold-case database.”

  “You spend much time there?”

  “Some. I’ll occasionally study cold cases to see if there is anything I can do. I don’t want them to be forgotten.”

  Ed filed that away for a later time. Cold cases were his own personal kryptonite as well. It took a certain kind of agent to go looking for answers in the past. “You can read it. But whatever you find...keep it to yourself. It...we’ve lost enough people because of this file, Miranda. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He watched her walk away, spine straight with the confidence of youth and skill, and wondered.

  Wondered if he was doing the right thing—Gabriella deserved to know he was still looking into Darrin’s death. Sending Dr. Talley to hunt for Paul Sturvin in Indianapolis was just an excuse.

  They all had ghosts that haunted them.

  Ed didn’t have much room for any others.

  57

  PAVAD was fast; Max had always appreciated that. When he’d called for the SEARCH team, there had been as quick a response as could be possible.

  Max studied the two trackers quickly as they hopped out of the second helicopter. It had taken them a little over ninety minutes to mobilize and arrive. That was it.

  He’d worked with both before.

  It did surprise him to see Jac’s younger sister, Natalie, walking next to Micah Hanan, her two dogs trotting alongside her obediently, though.

  He’d heard through the grapevine that Nat had transferred from the ATF to the newly forming PAVAD: SEARCH team. He just hadn’t crossed paths with her yet.

  The other man was one he’d met before.

  Micah Hanan was a transfer from an Oklahoma field office and the best tracker the FBI had. It wasn’t exactly a shock to see he’d taken a PAVAD appointment. PAVAD was the top of the line for those who dominated in specialized skills like tracking. Nat probably gave Hanan a real run for his money.

  The woman was the best he’d ever seen working with K9 search dogs.

  The absolute best.

  She had a
sixth sense for where people—especially children—would hide. Or be hidden.

  She was only twenty-six years old, and looked about fourteen from a distance. The last time he and Jac had taken her out, she’d been carded twice. He’d teased her about that both times.

  Worry for Nat was real; she was thinner than she had been before. If Nat broke one hundred pounds now, Max would eat his own hat.

  Nat was looking too damned thin. Beneath their fragile exteriors, the Jones sisters were forged from steel. Forged in hell. Neither one of the sisters had had it easy living with that bastard Colonel Boyd Jones.

  Fathers were supposed to protect their children. That hadn’t happened for Jac and Nat.

  Jac hadn’t turned yet from where she was talking to the local LEOs who’d secured the scene. They had four officers, all the locals could spare, out canvasing the fields for any initial signs of Deborah Miller or the girls. So far, nothing.

  “Jac.” Max put one hand on her shoulder and turned her slightly. “Nat.”

  She recognized her sister and started down the road to meet her.

  They had auxiliary agents on their way now. They’d be there in less than two hours. It was standard from here. Max knew that.

  If Ava and Olivia were out there in these woods, they’d find them.

  It was just a matter of time. The real question was what condition they’d been in when they were found.

  58

  Nat Jones gripped the leads to her two Belgian Tervurens as she took her first good look around the small Iowan road just one hundred feet from the Missouri border.

  This was not the first time she had been searching for missing children. It wouldn’t be the last. Every single time, she imagined the nightmares that those children were feeling. In intense detail.

  She’d been four the first time she and her sister had been left in the woods and told to fend for themselves. They had. For more than nine hours that first time.

  Nat had enough nightmares of her own. Limited vision in her left eye thanks to the bomb that she had barely survived was a constant reminder of one of those nightmares.

  She had barely passed the vision exam to get certified to work for the FBI now.

  Had her sister not already worked for PAVAD, Nat wouldn’t have passed PAVAD’s entrance standards at all.

  Nat snorted. That’s what she had heard a so-called friendly colleague saying to another teammate just three days ago.

  Never mind that she had a reputation for being one of the best K9 handlers in the country.

  Edward Dennis had been the one to get her here, and she was well aware of that. She wasn’t going to let that man down. But that was their secret. He’d cautioned her the day he’d interviewed her to keep that to herself.

  She’d only gotten the job because of her sister, after all. Her sister and the father they both despised. Never mind the years she’d worked in the field to get to where she was.

  Well, screw them. Nat knew what was important. Her sister, her dogs, and her job. In that very order.

  She had nothing else now.

  Nat ran a calming hand over her younger dog, Kudos. He always felt excitement when it was time to work. He fed off the energy of the searchers around him.

  He wasn’t a quiet dog. Those unfamiliar with Kudos’s great amount of skill often questioned her training methods. Said he was too high strung and uncontrolled. A liability. Said that she, as small as she was, couldn’t truly control him.

  She controlled him just fine. Because he loved her.

  Once he was on the job, Kudos was the most intense search and rescue dog she had ever worked with. He and his partner—and great love—Karma.

  They’d lost the third of their trio, Candy, in the bombing. She had been almost eight. She had been the dog Nat had first trained and learned with.

  The first dog she had loved.

  Nat would always grieve for Candy. Candy had been her heart dog. And always would be. Candy had helped her heal from the trauma that had been her childhood.

  But Kudos and Karma were her loves now.

  A familiar redhead caught her attention. Jac. Nat pulled in a breath.

  She always had mixed emotions whenever she first saw her sister. Jac was the only human left on earth that Nat allowed herself to love.

  That always reminded Nat of exactly how alone she was.

  “You take the east quadrant,” her new boss said. He stared at her out of eyes so dark they looked black—eyes that told her everything she needed to know about him. She’d learned early on to read a man by the look in his eyes. “If you think you can handle it.”

  The east—which looked to be the least strenuous terrain. Of course. Because he didn’t think she was capable of anything more.

  “I can handle it just fine.”

  There was skepticism in the man’s eyes.

  Micah Hanan, FBI tracker extraordinaire, didn’t think Nat could cut it. Not him, the great and wonderful Micah Hanan who never messed up at all.

  Very few on her team now actually thought that she could cut it.

  She understood. Nat barely made it to five two. She weighed in at ninety-six pounds now. The FBI had no minimum weight or height requirements—a good thing, as she would never have made them. They hadn’t had those requirements since the mid-1970s. Thankfully.

  Nat had passed the sprint requirement three minutes faster than required. The sit-ups and pushups had been nothing for her.

  She was just small.

  People thought she was insignificant. Maybe she was.

  The dogs were her great equalizer.

  Kudos, a Tervuren cross, at ninety-eight pounds actually outweighed her.

  Nat didn’t care. People had been making assumptions her entire life. All she cared about was doing her job and making a difference. An impact on the world. Leaving her mark in helping others.

  So that she wasn’t insignificant after all.

  Right now, her job meant finding those two little girls, as fast as possible.

  “In a moment. I need to check in with my sister. See if there is anything to help us out.”

  “What is this? A family reunion? Is your sister here anywhere? If she’s a civilian, Jones—”

  “Stupid isn’t on my resume, Hanan.” Nat shook her head. Did he think she was that incompetent? Jerk. There was only one other woman on the scene in the first place. Jac was close enough for him to see the resemblance between them. Total ass. “Jac is the agent in charge of this investigation. She’s with PAVAD: CCU. Over there,” Nat said pointing. “I’d be checking in with the AIC, anyway. The AIC is my sister, by the way.”

  She didn’t like Hanan. Something about him had her on edge. Scared her. There was an indefinable element about him that told her he was a threat to her well-being. She’d always trusted her instincts. That lesson had been beaten into her by the time she was ten and Jac thirteen.

  “Agent Jaclyn Jones? We’ve met, worked together before. That’s your sister?”

  Nat just nodded once. Nat had a reputation with S&R. Jac had a reputation in the field. Nat was so proud of her sister. “She’s almost as good as I am at S&R. She can work Karma, if needed. They’re very well bonded.”

  “She’s good at what she does. I’ve seen her work before.” For him, that was a real compliment.

  Nat just nodded. Of course, Jac was good at what she did. Being the best at anything they did had been a requirement for survival when they were children.

  Failure had never been allowed. Failure was always instantly punished. Only being the best was good enough. Some lessons stuck for life.

  Jac looked up. Nat studied her sister quickly. Jac looked thinner than she had before. There were dark circles beneath her sister’s eyes.

  That wasn’t unusual, though. Considering that Jac most likely had been up all night. Nat shivered as the case details sank in.

  This had been a bloodbath. Her sister dealt with these kinds of things every day. Concern for her sister hit her.
Jac seemed so alone sometimes.

  Not that Nat had room to talk. Jac at least had friends now. People she worked with. Nat didn’t even have that.

  If something were to happen to her out there, no one except Jac would even care.

  She’d come to terms with that lying on her back in the hospital room, missing James with every breath she took. Losing him had devastated her.

  It always would.

  He had been the one man she had ever let close to her. Then he had died. That still stung every minute of every day.

  A tall man approached behind her. Nat didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Hanan.

  PAVAD: SEARCH had twelve people in it. Teams of two were often sent out in various directions, with the ability to pull PAVAD auxiliaries to beef up numbers whenever needed.

  She’d only been sent out twice with someone other than Hanan. Nat was the last one sent out at all. Only as a last resort.

  Nat was well aware of that.

  He didn’t trust her. No one on her team trusted her.

  Hanan definitely didn’t trust her skills.

  She’d only transferred to the FBI because the director of PAVAD had asked her to specifically. And promised she’d be closer to her sister.

  That was invaluable to Nat.

  Jac was all she had.

  Kudos bumped her leg. Besides Kudos and Karma.

  Nat didn’t want to keep living alone. She wanted to have the kind of life that she saw other people leading. The kind with friends, families of their own. Just people who cared. She and Jac had never had that. Their father had seen to that. He wanted to be the only one that mattered to them at all.

  Colonel Jones wanted Nat and Jac one hundred percent dependent on him. That she and Jac had escaped still infuriated him.