Code Name_Redemption

by Natasza Waters

  “Maybe not.”

  Greg nodded. “Was it a knife?” He turned in his seat when Austen didn’t respond.

  “Looked like a blade to me, but I was twenty feet away.”

  “Thanks for being there.”

  “See you at eight bells,” Austen said.

  “Roger that, SEAL.”

  Greg turned off the side lamp and finished his beer in the dark. Even sitting in a jumpsuit with handcuffs and being held for murder, his world had stopped spinning when Mattie Bidault stepped up to the table in the corrections center. His pulse had already gone for a fast run around a track when he’d seen her walk into the Irish Times pub.

  He’d shared his bed with too many women. For a time, he and Kayla had been intimate, but she always insisted he move on. He’d tried. Diana had been patient with him, but she wanted a family and marriage. He couldn’t take that step. Couldn’t give her all of his heart. She knew it and when the doctor started showing interest, Diana chose the right path.

  Mattie’s soft features and amazing eyes sent his desire into seek and possess mode, but two other temptations had ramped up his heart rate. Her take no prisoners approach to her profession. He liked her drive. She hardly knew him when she’d decided she believed him. Going on gut instinct and a few facts, she stood behind her beliefs. The second thing was her body. Fuck, her body was something a man could desire for hours. Tall, with long legs and definitive curves that his eyes cruised along like an afternoon ride on his bike.

  Exhilarating.

  To see that woman naked on her knees would drive him senseless. With an arched back and her beautiful rounded hips in his hands, he could lose himself in her beauty for hours. What was seriously appealing is that she didn’t see herself as a sexual creature. Not one ounce of her believed she had what it takes to make a guy rock hard and glad to be born a man. It was time for him to do more than listen to his instincts. He had to believe in them.

  An inner voice told him there’s someone special standing in front of him, and he should pay attention to Mattie Bidault and her zeal for adventure and truth.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Noon arrived and Greg cast another look at Austen and, of course, Mattie. She’d been hunched over her laptop since she got up at zero seven hundred hours. Five cups of coffee later, she was still hunched over her laptop.

  “Okay, break,” he said, and literally picked up her laptop and moved it aside.

  “Wait.” She startled and tried to grab for it.

  “Stand down. Lunch. Now.”

  She glared at him with big hazel, angry eyes. “I think I might have hit on something.”

  He laid three placemats on the table and three plates with soup and sandwiches. Wasn’t cuisine, but she needed a break. “Tell us over lunch.”

  She flopped back in her chair and flicked looks between him and the laptop.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he warned.

  Austen took a seat after getting three beers, cracked the caps and plunked one down in front of Mattie, then cracked two more. “You’re like a friggin’ machine,” he said, grinning. “Kinda reminds me of someone else.”

  Greg sat and raised a brow at her. “Let’s hear it.”

  Mattie shifted a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Okay. I did some creative digging on the Dream Squad. I may have inadvertently ventured into some files through a back door.”

  “How did you do that?” he asked, sliding a spoon into her fisted hand because he could see she wasn’t going to eat unless he started the ball rolling.

  She dropped the spoon. “This is important.”

  “I’m sure it is.” He grinned. “Tenacious, isn’t she?” he said, looking toward Austen.

  He nodded. “Eating is important too. Eat,” Austen ordered.

  Mattie stuffed in one spoonful of soup and left the spoon in the bowl as she forced down the swallow. “I went to university with a few very smart people and we’ve kept in touch. Listen to this.” She pushed the placemat with the food aside and slid her laptop in front of her. “David Yates has two complaints of harassment.”

  “Who is David Yates?” the Admiral asked.

  “One of the Dream Squad, and the guy who has been assigned as my release rep from Vic PD. Can I continue?”

  Greg nodded.

  “Two complaints by women who were stopped by him for traffic violations.” Mattie ran her fingers through her hair and stretched her neck. “I know there’s a bunch of crazy people out there, and some of them hate cops and will make up a story or two, but each complaint was investigated and removed from his record.”

  “Then how did you find them?” Greg asked, pushing the plate closer to her.

  “Will you stop! I’m not hungry. I found it from a complaint filed to the BC Ombudsmen. When Yates wasn’t disciplined, the women felt strongly enough that they went to another level.”

  “Making lurid suggestions to a woman doesn’t make a murderer,” Austen said.

  “No, but I also did some other checking after asking my roommate who the rest of the Dream Squad were at the Vic PD. There are six guys. Really close. Go everywhere together. They apparently take off on days of rest together—fishing, that kind of thing.”

  “Sounds innocent enough,” Greg said.

  “Whatever was behind Stuart’s back was not innocent,” she argued, “but some of the things he said bothered me.”

  Austen cleared his throat with a gulp of beer. “She’s got a point there.”

  “He said something really strange to me as he was putting his hand behind his back.”

  He and Austen waited for the punchline.

  “He said, ‘I really like you. I felt that spark when I first saw you. I wanted to keep you. I don’t want to do this.’”

  “I wanted to keep you?” Greg queried.

  Austen finished his soup and set the bowl aside. “Keep you,” he mused. “Versus what? Keep you where?” He and Austen shared a look. “Keep you safe, possibly?” When Mattie narrowed her eyes at him, Greg explained. “We have to lay out options and not all will point to guilty.”

  He waited while she seemed caught in her thoughts. “Exactly. It doesn’t make sense. Do you think he was trying to give me a warning?”

  “Warn you the same time as pulling a knife? Non, cheri. Those two things are very different.”

  Her eyes widened. She tossed her napkin at Austen. “You did see what was in his hand.”

  Under her accusatory stare, Austen shrugged but looked chagrin. “Sorry.”

  “It’s hard to believe.” Mattie tapped her fingernail on the table. “But, that was the second date we’ve been on. The first one was incredibly weird,” she admitted.

  He and Austen leaned back in their chairs and crossed their arms over their chests.

  “Guess you want to hear it, or maybe not.”

  A second date. Why had she kept this from him? “From start to finish,” Greg ordered.

  With a quick summary, she touched on the high points. Including the fact that Stuart was into BDSM, which fired a very high, very red flare into the air for him. But one he didn’t want to talk about.

  He and Austen stared at each other for the longest time, then they both nodded as if talking telepathically.

  She tsked. “I can’t read your minds. “What do you think?”

  “Things are starting to make a little more sense,” the Admiral said.

  At all costs, he wanted to avoid the subject of dominant-submissive lifestyles. If he said nothing, Austen would catch on. “I think it’s the only answer,” Greg responded.

  Mattie’s head swung back and forth. “Is this some kind of weird SpecOp thing you guys do?”

  “I could track the Dream Squad. See where they go?” Austen offered. “Might lead us to an answer. Could use some of your team to help.”

  Mattie plucked the pickle from her plate and munched on it. “What are you talking about?”

  Greg nudged her plate back in front of her. “Eat a
nd we’ll tell you.”

  She pushed another spoonful of soup in and dropped it back in the bowl. “Well?”

  Getting her to eat was like feeding a toddler whose toy was just out of reach but still visible. Hot on the trail, he saw the journalist’s afterburners kick in. “Did you find any harassment charges against the other men on the squad?” he asked. Greg considered the fact that if the cops belonged to a BDSM club, one of them may be out of control.

  Her nose wrinkled as if disgusted with herself. “No.” Mattie swirled her fingers against her temples as if her head ached.

  “I think you need a break,” Greg said. “Eat something. Clear your head.”

  “No, I want to know what you’re thinking. Oh hell, you’re right. I need some air.” Mattie pushed to her feet and walked toward the patio doors, opening one and stepping outside.

  “What do you make of it?” he asked Austen.

  “If Stuart has been jonesing to run a flogger across Mattie’s ass, maybe he’s crossed a line.”

  Greg nodded, glancing at the open door. “I agree. I’ll be back.”

  Austen grinned as he reached for his beer. “Take your time.”

  Greg closed the door behind him and walked across the small patch of lawn that sloped down toward the water. Mattie stood at the edge, her arms crossed, staring out at the harbour.

  “Enjoying the view?”

  She held her hair away from her face as the wind tried to have its way. “I should go back into the office today, and visit the Vic PD. I want to confront Stuart.”

  He shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

  “If I don’t, he’ll think I’m onto him. As far as he knows, his plans were interrupted and I’m none the wiser.” She stared up at him. “What if we set him up? What if I ask him on a date and he’ll try to finish what he started, but you both can do your hero stuff and stop him. Then we question him.”

  “And then we’ll be charged with restraining a police officer and whatever other charges he wants to throw at us, and we’re in jail and you’re unprotected.”

  Her shoulders sagged with disappointment.

  “Mattie, we’d be at war with the entire city police department. We need proof that someone is covering up evidence. It’s hard to tell at this point if Stuart is one of them, but he had a knife and you’re instinct thought he was about to use it. If he doesn’t talk, you’re still in danger.”

  “Where’s Brandon anyway? Thought he was coming over?”

  “He is. He got delayed. He’ll be here after lunch.”

  “What if Mary’s in danger?”

  “She won’t be, for the mere fact that she’s engaged to an RCMP officer. Stuart will stay well clear of her. So will the others. If they’re dirty, they won’t want to tip off the RCMP.”

  “There’s at least two of them involved in this, according to the old man from Market Square. I’ve been too afraid to say it out loud. What if the Ripper is a cop? Maybe he’s someone we don’t know yet but attached to Sergeant Montgomery in some way.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  She was making herself sick trying to solve something she didn’t have all the pieces to. When she turned away and stared out to sea, he stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her slight frame.

  With his mouth next to her ear, he said, “I want you to relax for a few minutes. Can you do that?” As if on command, her body melted against his. He grinned. “I’d offer a back massage. Apparently I’m pretty good at them, but we’ve only known each other for a short while.”

  Mattie chuckled and turned in his arms, but he didn’t move away, he pressed a little closer to see if she would resist. He almost laughed at the surprise in her eyes as she lifted her head up to look at him. Again, he was reminded that she didn’t see herself as a woman who would be desired, or maybe didn’t give herself the chance to be desired.

  “Cheri, you’re surprised by my actions. Why?” He watched confusion flicker in her eyes. It leaped from a brief moment of belief to shelving her instincts that he was enamored by her into the ‘impossible category’. Why could she not see how alluring she was?

  She stepped from his arms, looking rather unbalanced. “How many women answered your ad on the online dating site?”

  Now, he took a surprised step back. “What?”

  “Your posting on the Victoria Charm site. How many women answered?”

  Not a question he wanted to answer. He palmed the back of his neck. “You researched me?”

  “Of course I did. I had to know who you are. You’d been accused of murder.”

  She waited for his answer, but he wasn’t going to give her one.

  Her eyes narrowed but not because she was angry, because her mind was whirling again. “How did you meet Diana?”

  He cleared his throat and nodded. “Through that site.”

  Her eyes flashed open and she turned and ran into the house. What the hell was with this woman anyway?

  He followed her inside and he found her typing like a fiend on her computer.

  “That went well,” Austen murmured under his breath.

  “Shut up.”

  Mattie’s gaze flashed back and forth across the screen. “They’re here. They’re all here,” she said. She clapped and fisted her hands in excitement. “It’s a break. We’ve finally got a clue.”

  Both he and Austen took a position behind her. Each of the eight victims had a profile on the site. Mattie scanned the male ads but she didn’t find Stuart. At least not by name, and checking all the pictures would take time.

  Peering over Mattie’s shoulder, he nodded. “This could be how he picked his victims.”

  Austen rounded the table and turned the laptop toward him, surveying the page with Diana’s profile. “Could be. It’s a catalogue of women open to the idea of hooking up.”

  “I’ve never used one of these sites before.” She leaned her head back and stared up at him. “How does it work? Do you make contact on the site and then talk privately, or is it all through the site?”

  Greg felt a little exposed and stupid that he’d put his profile on the site. Most guys would stroll down to a local bar and wait for a girl to take interest. The difference being, the bar hookups were with women who wanted what he had always wanted. A few hours of hot and sweaty, but once he dressed and left her bed, he didn’t plan on coming back. The Charm site could lead to something more permanent. Mattie watched him, waiting for an answer. “Pretty much that way, yes.”

  “So there could be a record of the killer contacting these women.”

  Greg watched the thread of excitement ignite her into overdrive. “The site operators are very protective of the information. They won’t release it.”

  “Sergeant Montgomery is not working alone. So if it’s not him, then it could be his partner that contacts them.”

  Greg sat down in the chair and grasped her hand. “You’ve been hinting around the idea a cop has gone bad. You think Montgomery is the serial killer?”

  “There’s something really scary about that guy.”

  He watched as she began to enter an ad for herself. “No, don’t do that.”

  “Why? I might flush out the partner.”

  “And they might suspect you’re doing just that, which means you’re a step closer to proving they’re dirty and a step closer to you being taken out to protect their game.”

  The doorbell rang and Mattie startled.

  “Gotta be the constable. I’ll get it.” Austen headed for the front door.

  “Mattie, your nerves are strung taut.”

  She ignored him and kept typing. He brought his hand down forcefully over hers and pulled her fingers away. He swiveled her chair then squatted in front of her. “I will not allow you to put yourself in danger.”

  “Would you stop that! I have—”

  He curled his hand around her neck and, with little effort, pulled her close. “Listen to me. You are becoming obsessed, and obsession can lead to terrible things. I know t
his.”

  She swallowed. “I’m committed. There is a difference.”

  He thumbed her cheek. So soft. He gently removed her glasses and placed them on the table. “You can convince yourself of any lie you want, but I see you’re desperate to find the Ripper. If all your focus is on one thing, you can’t see the danger coming from another angle.”

  Austen rounded the corner with an RCMP constable in tow.

  He stood and nodded his welcome. “Constable McCambridge, I’m Greg LaPierre,” then slowly allowed his gaze to drop to Mattie, who stared up at him looking dumbstruck.

  “Good afternoon, call me Brandon.” He shook Greg’s hand.

  Greg grinned down at Mattie, his words had struck their target. “Brandon, you on duty, or do you want a beer?”

  “On duty, and by the way, there’s a black Dodge parked half a block down the road with an occupant inside. I called in the plate.”

  Brandon had Mattie’s attention now. “Is it Sergeant Montgomery?” she asked.

  “Registered to the Victoria PD. Ghost car.”

  Mattie sucked in her breath and stood up. “It’s him.” She used the table to stabilize herself.

  “You’ve seen this car before?” Brandon asked.

  Mattie nodded.

  “Okay.” He looked at his watch and the doorbell rang again.

  Both Greg and Austen looked at each other in a mode only the two of them understood.

  “That’s my OIC. I asked him to come,” Brandon said, putting a comforting hand on Mattie. “You should have told me this as soon as you suspected something was wrong.”

  She nodded jerkily. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  After introductions were made, they moved into the living room. Captain Frank Wallner sat beside Brandon and patiently listened to Mattie. She started from the beginning and gave them all the information she had, including the part she’d neglected to tell Greg, which was the homeless man had been murdered and her business card was missing from his belongings. She ended by telling them what she’d just figured out, that all the women were on a local Victoria dating site.

  Captain Wallner sat quietly and listened, and remained quiet for a minute after Mattie had finished talking. He slowly scratched his chin and shot a look at Brandon. He slid forward in his seat and clasped his hands together. “This is not only about the women, this is going to be one fucked-up mess politically, never mind the media going round the clock to disembowel law enforcement. Victoria is the capitol of British Columbia. Where our parliament sits. Tourism is its biggest income earner. If what you’re suggesting is true, you might as well throw a bomb in the middle of the harbour and detonate it.”