Searching (PAVAD- FBI Romantic Suspense Book 18)

by Calle J. Brookes

  She bit back a shiver just thinking about him. About how her own escape had happened, after he’d run Jac off when Jac had been only sixteen.

  It wasn’t Jac that he wanted to idolize and worship him. It was Nat. Because Nat was his by blood. Jac wasn’t, despite the legal claim. But Nat—he’d always thought he owned her.

  He despised Jac, had almost washed his hands of his late wife’s daughter from a previous relationship. Jac was flawed to him.

  He wanted to control Nat. To have her one hundred percent broken to his will.

  The colonel’s harassment since the bombing was just getting worse.

  She was eventually going to have to tell her sister. Just so Jac would know what was going on.

  If anything ever happened to Nat, the colonel would be the first place Jac would need to look.

  Nat wasn’t certain their father hadn’t killed their mother, either. She’d find out one day, though. One way or another.

  Nat was still looking. One day, she would know.

  Max was the one to fill them in on what they were doing out there today. Nat nodded at him, quietly thinking once again how good he was for her sister. He stood at Jac’s side, strong and protective—not even realizing he was doing it. He was strong enough to protect her sister from the nightmares of the world. Nat almost envied her that.

  Jac gave the orders. Nat knew what was expected of her.

  Jac looked at Nat. “Watch yourself out here.”

  “Of course. Be careful out here, Jac. I’ll talk to you later.” Nat nodded and gave the signal for Kudos and Karma to flank her. They moved to obey immediately. “We’ll be ready, if you need us.”

  “I know.”

  Nat nodded at Hanan one more time. She had a job to do.

  It was time to do it.

  Nat started toward the woods. The forest was where she felt most at home, after all.

  Safest.

  Despite the lessons her father had beaten into her when Jac wasn’t around to protect her.

  In the woods was the only place Nat had ever been able to escape him, after all. The very lessons he’d taught her—had been the only tools she’d had to escape all those years ago.

  59

  Todd’s phone rang, right when he was watching the woman with the dogs as she started ordering the local guys around. Half of them had incredulous looks on their faces as they stared at her.

  No wonder.

  She was just a kid.

  She didn’t look like she belonged out there at all. She’d even rolled up the sleeves on the damned PAVAD jacket.

  This woman had gotten a PAVAD appointment and not him? It didn’t make any sense.

  Jaclyn walked across the road to the woman. Side by side, he was struck by the resemblance. Jaclyn was taller by several inches, with more red in her hair. The other woman was a great deal thinner, shorter, and darker haired. That was about it.

  He’d heard she had a sister somewhere in PAVAD. He wouldn’t have guessed search and rescue.

  Not for one of Colonel Jones’s daughters.

  They’d grown up with prep schools and trust funds and dinners with heads of states. Tramping around the woods with dogs bigger than she was didn’t make any sense to him at all. An enigma—even more so than her older sister.

  She wasn’t as pretty as her sister. Not really. Jaclyn had a more classic appeal—this woman had a lost-waif look. Girl next door in trouble look.

  Not his type at all.

  Especially with the guard dogs watching every move everyone made. The bigger one looked like he belonged in a Stephen King novel or something.

  He pulled his phone out quickly and checked the display.

  Eugene Lytel.

  Todd texted him back quickly. Now was definitely not the time.

  Lytel was on his way with the auxiliaries. He wanted to meet with Todd as soon as possible. They had something to discuss.

  Damn it. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck.

  Something didn’t feel right about Lytel. Not by a long shot. Not anymore. Todd wasn’t so certain what he was doing now was that great of an idea. Not a good idea at all.

  He was going to have to find a way to get out of this somehow. And not destroy everything he had worked for.

  As thunder cracked overhead, with the storm getting closer, Todd wondered exactly how he was going to accomplish that.

  60

  It probably would be faster to get off the plane and drive. Miranda thought about the possibilities as the plane was delayed once again.

  She’s already been sitting for more than ninety minutes. It was a four-hour drive between St. Louis and Indianapolis. As the stewardess walked by, Miranda caught her attention. “Excuse me?”

  “Yes? How may I help you today?”

  “How long of a delay is this going to be?” Miranda discreetly flashed the credentials that she carried with her everywhere.

  The flight attendant’s eyes widened. “Is there some sort of trouble on the plane?”

  Miranda shot her smile and shook her head. “No, but I’m expected in Indianapolis soon. I’m wondering if it might not be a good idea to trade my ticket in and drive.”

  The flight attendant nodded. “From what I saw on my phone, this storm is going be a big one and coming in fits and spurts. We’ll be sitting here for a while. But it’s moving through rather quickly. But being what it is, you may be better off driving.”

  “Thanks. I’m on time sensitive business.” Miranda took it as the sign that it was. She stood and grabbed her single bag.

  Twenty-five minutes later, Miranda maneuvered her small SUV onto the road. “Indianapolis or bust,” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

  Just for the hell of it.

  Why not?

  There was no one next to her to hear.

  61

  Todd felt absolutely useless as he stood back and watched what was going on around the red Pontiac. The forensics team had finally arrived, hopping out of their two vans and hustling around like they were a group of superheroes. They had the car loaded into a large box truck and removed from the scene before the rain broke free.

  Cody Lorcan was good at what she did, at least.

  Rain pelted his jacket, but Todd ignored it.

  He’d seen Lytel wandering around, strutting like he ran the place.

  Objective, Todd supposed the man did. When it came to his team of auxiliary agents, Lytel was most certainly the agent in charge. Todd knew the numbers; there were one hundred PAVAD: AUX agents. Lytel, five coordinators, six teams of ten each, and support staff. But he didn’t want auxiliary. Everyone knew that was a place where an agent went to land in no-man’s-land.

  Auxiliary agents never left auxiliary. In four years, none had promoted out into other PAVAD areas.

  That was telling to Todd.

  He wanted more than that.

  But he supposed that the head of the auxiliary unit was a position that meant something. He had no idea what Lytel’s beef with PAVAD and Ed Dennis was.

  He wasn’t interested in finding out.

  But he had to play the game now.

  First opportunity he had, Todd left the initial crime scene and walked up the road. Crossed the state line right next to the Welcome to Missouri road sign.

  Lytel was there, scanning the scene with binoculars, checking on the auxiliary teams he had out, plus the SEARCH agents.

  Todd stepped up to the man’s side. “What did you want?”

  “An answer. Are you in? Completely?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What’s the hesitation?”

  “A man like Paul Sturvin seems like a damned good hold up. What in the hell happened?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Best thing I can figure—the guy got into it with his wife, and things got out of hand. Just shitty coincidence Sturvin was…on the payroll.”

  Todd nodded. That’s what made the most sense to him, too.

  “Make a choice, Barnes. You in, or
are you out?”

  “I’m in,” Todd said. He’d come up with a working plan. It was the best he could do.

  Hell, he knew the truth.

  He had no other choice.

  62

  Hours passed. The waiting was the hard part. Jac was kept busy coordinating at the command post when what she truly wanted to do was take the dog Nat had left with her and get out there looking for the girls herself.

  But she couldn’t do that; she had a job to do—and that meant doing it right there at the command tent.

  She had to trust the people she worked with to do their jobs.

  Her sister was out there. If the girls were out there somewhere, Nat would find them.

  She was the best Jac had ever seen after all.

  Finally, her sister emerged, after five long hours. Nat came right to her, ignoring the agents and locals and the man she’d arrived with.

  Jac stepped toward her sister. “Nat?”

  “We found a body,” Nat said quietly. “A woman matching the description of Deborah Miller. I’m sorry, Jac. Signs of the girls remain within fifteen feet of her body, but never branch out after that. There are fresh tire tracks. From the way Kudos kept losing the trail, the girls were taken away—either carried off or by car. Whatever it was, they didn’t walk out of here. But they…are just gone.”

  Jac ran over the possibilities in her head as Max came up behind her. “Initial forensics are reporting that the car was run off the road.”

  Jac flinched. “She made it this far. And what? Was killed here, or was this just as far as she could make it?”

  Nat shook her head. “She didn’t just end up here, Jackie. She has a clear handprint over her face. She was suffocated. And as beaten up as she is, she couldn’t fight back.”

  They’d have to confirm it with forensics, but Jac trusted her sister’s words. She turned to Max.

  “The killer tracked Debbie here, killed her, and took the girls away in another vehicle?”

  “It’s the most logical conclusion. Which tells me he or she may have wanted the girls in the first place. Or just to silence Debbie, and the girls are incidental. He took them for a reason. When he could have killed them and left them out here. We’ll have search teams continue to comb over this area, but right now…we’re almost back to where we began.”

  “And the girls are now definitely in the care of a killer.”

  63

  Driving one-armed for four hours was probably enough to give any woman a nasty case of tennis elbow in her good hand. Miranda tried to shake it off as best she could.

  Dani had called her halfway through the drive to give her an update.

  They hadn’t been able to get a hold of Paul Sturvin by phone.

  Nor had local officers been able to locate him.

  She’d confirmed that with Jac not even five minutes ago.

  He’d disappeared. At the time his wife was brutally murdered? Uh…no.

  That didn’t sit well with Miranda—or anyone else involved.

  They had seen family annihilators before. She speculated that was exactly what she was facing. Miranda headed to the field office first. Anything could go wrong in a case like this. She wasn’t about to go poking about looking for a potentially dangerous man one-handed without backup.

  The last thing Miranda considered herself was stupid. If the contents of the file had gotten people killed before, she didn’t want to be added to that list.

  Ed Dennis said there would be an agent waiting for her at Indianapolis.

  There was.

  Miranda liked it when things went according to plan.

  She took a look at the long, tall, dark, and handsome man in the suit and mirrored sunglasses and almost sighed. Her day had certainly gotten a lot brighter.

  “Agent Walker Taggart?”

  The man, a good six inches taller than Miranda’s almost five eleven, nodded. She wished he’d take off the sunglasses. Miranda had always thought you could tell a man’s character by that first look in his eyes.

  It was something her grandmother had taught her early on.

  He held out a hand, she shook as well as she was able to around the bag in her one good arm. “It’s nice to meet you. I understand you used to work in St. Louis, with Agent Knight?”

  He nodded. “I did. About four years back, but I’ve…known…him for a good twenty-five years. I heard what happened to him. Is he doing ok? Haven’t heard much from him, not since it happened. I was up there in the hospital with him for a few days. Until he kicked me out.”

  He had a deep rumbly voice. Broad shoulders, warm dark-brown skin. A way of walking that shouted he was all-male. Miranda wasn’t blind to the effect. Then again, she bet most heterosexual women wouldn’t be.

  “Knight... Knight does his own thing, and as far as I know, he’s doing fine. We worked together a few months back. He showed up just as I…well…” Miranda waved the cast a little. That was a case she’d never forget. “Just as I really needed him to. Came in real handy in keeping me from getting offed. Of course, he’s in and out all the time. Transferring to PAVAD soon, with an entire division to his name. At least, that’s what the rumors are saying.”

  Miranda had had mixed emotions about Knight from the moment they’d worked together on her last case. That case had taken too much of a personal turn for her—and not just because it happened in her grandmother’s home. In her hometown. With people Miranda knew, had grown up with.

  No, Allan Knight had made it personal.

  Miranda hadn’t forgotten that.

  One brief kiss. That’s all it had taken. It was well beyond the bounds of professionalism. He’d had no business putting his hands on her that day.

  She hadn’t invited it. Of course, she hadn’t exactly pushed him away either. Even today, she wouldn’t. She had very complex emotions where Allan Knight was concerned.

  Even if he was a curmudgeonly old ass. Well.

  “You can set your stuff down in my office,” Agent Taggart said. He finally removed the glasses, revealing hazel eyes that were absolutely gorgeous.

  This man was a real heartbreaker. Even though he did have the mannerisms of the soberest undertaker.

  Miranda bit back a smile. She had always enjoyed figuring out enigmas.

  “I’m trying to locate a man from St. Louis who was supposed to be here on a business trip.” She named the hotel quickly. “Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to locate him. His wife was murdered in the early hours of the morning yesterday. An elderly neighbor heard the commotion; she was also killed. His two young daughters are missing. We need to find him.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. We’ll see what we can do.”

  64

  The girls were finally asleep. It had taken Paul far too long to calm them down after he’d finished with Debbie. Paul checked them both in the rearview mirror. He probably shouldn’t have killed her with the girls watching. He could have just left her there. That would have been best for the girls, after all.

  Debbie had been on her last legs as it was. Chances of her being found in time for it to do any good would most likely have not happened.

  But what was done was done.

  He was going to have to work on controlling his temper. His actions.

  Paul couldn’t afford mistakes like this.

  Olivia had been watching him ever since, but now she was asleep.

  She was becoming more defiant. Like her mother. He was going to have to address that when he could. She had to learn. Had to understand that everything he had done had been for her.

  He would have to erase the sight of him dragging Debbie away into the woods, leaving her and Ava behind.

  Paul looked down. He was going to have to change clothes soon. Debbie’s blood was all over him.

  Olivia had seen it. He just knew it.

  She was old enough, smart enough to know something bad had happened in those woods.

  To his shame, he had done nothing to protect her. He had
made a vow the first time he held her in his arms all those years ago and she’d smiled at him.

  He was supposed to protect her. To give her the life she deserved.

  He had failed.

  Paul straightened in the driver’s seat. He had failed her now. He would not fail her or Ava ever again.

  What was done was done.

  It was time to look to the future now.

  65

  Miranda searched the generic hotel room, looking for some signs of the man who’d occupied it last. Security footage had shown that it was Paul Sturvin. She’d gotten a full view of him on the camera. Enough to easily identify him.

  Nothing in his manner had shouted unease, or that he knew what had happened in St. Louis. Paul had checked in at 5:03 p.m. two evenings before. Phone records showed that he had called home for approximately thirty-two seconds.

  The exact time length of the message he had left on his wife’s cell phone. A second phone call came fifteen seconds after that to the landline phone. To the voice machine. That call had lasted sixteen seconds.

  He’d ordered room service two hours later. And was seen opening the door wearing what appeared to be sweatpants and a T-shirt.

  He’d been barefooted. Miranda had made note of that on the camera.

  Just a regular, average, normal businessman away on a business trip.

  While his whole world fell apart behind him.

  She was revising her earlier opinion on what had happened to the Sturvins. She’d thought family annihilator, but things were looking the exact opposite direction.

  “So where is he?” she asked Taggart. He told her to call him by his last name. Said that he abhorred the name Walker.

  Miranda wondered why he didn’t just change it. It wasn’t that much of a hassle. He was just as cantankerous as Knight. She could see the two men being friends. They had the same surly attitude.