“You could tell there was attraction on both sides. When we left the club a couple hours later, they were all three still there, still talking.” Rob shrugged. “Quest and Carter were definitely smitten, as was Mercy. You could practically see the bonds between them beginning to grow.”
“What…” Colleen picked up her cup and took a long sip. When she set it down, she tilted her head and looked from him to Daniel.
“How well do you know these two men? What would they have done about that ‘bond’ as you call it?”
“I’ve known Carter longer than Quest, but for Rob, it’s the opposite. As to how they’d react? They’d be very cautious,” Daniel said. “They wouldn’t have rushed into anything. Certainly not that night. In fact, knowing them, and their situation, I can tell you they would have arranged several encounters between them and Mercy in an open setting before they began a Dom/sub relationship. And for that, they would have insisted on a contract.”
“A contract?” Colleen frowned. “You mentioned that before.”
“A lot of times, there’s a contract between Doms and subs. Very detailed, always renegotiable.”
“Why do I feel as if you’re not telling me everything?” She looked from Daniel to him.
Rob smiled. There was no pique in Colleen’s tone, just curiosity. Daniel sighed. “I’m going to have to amend that codicil about not lying to you because leaving things out could be considered lying. However, I won’t break someone’s confidence, pet. I simply can’t.”
“No, of course you couldn’t.” She looked at them both then shook her head. He wasn’t surprised to see her smile, but he was pretty certain Daniel was.
“That’s actually good to know. You don’t have to say another word. I do believe I’ve figured it out.”
Her grin could only be called Cheshire-cat-like, and Rob had to turn away before he laughed. Judging by Daniel’s frown, she hadn’t responded in the way he’d expected at all.
This was a very good thing. He had the feeling Dr. Colleen Duncan was going to keep them both on their toes—but especially Daniel.
* * * *
Colleen sat back from her plate after having eaten more food at one sitting than she had in a very long while. When Rob had asked her how she felt, she’d almost not known how to answer him. Her body was sore in places she’d forgotten she had, but her emotions—those wily little demons that ran through her when she wasn’t able to shove them in a box—felt as if they were drunk. Happily drunk and enjoying the buzz.
She’d never known she could feel this way.
The sound of a chime announced someone had received a text message. Rob reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He read, responded, then looked up.
“Damion and Chance are on their way over now.”
Colleen instantly went on alert. “Have they found something?” She looked from Rob to Daniel and back. She had the sense that, if they didn’t know something more than they’d said, they suspected more than they’d said. Why wouldn’t they tell her everything? Every thought, every fear… She exhaled and sat back.
Did she want to hear what they feared? What good would it do her to learn they feared Mercy was dead? Isn’t that what she was afraid of herself? Isn’t that why she clung so readily to these two men, because they were protecting her from that, from her own fears, and she wanted them to?
“Enough.” Daniel moved her chair with her still in it and then oh-so-easily lifted her onto his lap. “Your job is to think positive thoughts. Our job is to handle the worry. You’ve had enough of dealing with things like that, pet. Look at me.”
When he used that particular tone, she had no choice but to obey. Seriously, it was weird the way her body was all for this man and his brother.
“When we met you, when we first learned of your sister’s disappearance, we didn’t, either of us, have much hope that she was still alive. That has changed. I can’t tell you why, because some of it is what’s referred to as ‘cop instinct.’ You’re going to have to trust us a little longer. Let’s see what Damion and Chance have to say, and then we can see what happens next.”
“All right.” She exhaled heavily. She wanted to just curl up and lean into Daniel. She tried to argue herself out of that. She’d never considered herself anything but a woman who tackled things head-on. She’d never believed a problem would be solved if she ignored it, and she’d never, ever, hidden from reality.
And yet.
Daniel had the uncanny ability to read her mind. That was how it felt because he adjusted her on his lap and used one hand to press her head to his shoulder. Because it was what she wanted, she laid her head there and let herself relax on him. “Good girl.”
Those two words felt like the biggest praise, ever.
Rob headed over to the stove and, within a few minutes, had more food ready and two more places set at the table.
She barely heard the knock. Rob headed to the front door.
“Do you want to stay here, or do you want to sit up? Your choice.”
“I want to stay here, but I’m going to sit up.” She lifted her head and looked at Daniel. His gaze was so…loving. She knew she’d be a fool to let her emotions go there, but those ones she couldn’t really stop.
“Thank you, Sir. I needed that.” He’d told her upstairs, when they’d awakened, that she didn’t need to observe protocol during the day. She needed to use that title, both because it felt right and because she wanted to honor him with it.
His response was to place a gentle kiss on her lips. “Me, too.” Then he set her on her chair, just as Rob led Damion Quest and Chance Carter into the kitchen.
“Good morning, gentlemen. There’s food.” She felt a little more in control, more than she had in days, and knew it was only because of Daniel and Rob. Her Doms.
“Food is welcome,” Damion said. Then he looked at Colleen. “We don’t know where Mercy is—at least, not yet. But we’re very hopeful she’s alive and, more, that we’re getting close.”
“Then sit and eat and talk.” Daniel picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. “And perhaps, to ease Colleen’s mind, you could begin by telling her your intentions toward her baby sister.”
Chapter Twelve
“We were both simply smitten,” Damion said. “We must have sat and chatted with her that first night for three hours.”
“Then we met her a few times, besides. Always someplace public, like a coffee shop, or a mall.” Chance sighed. “We were both very interested in exploring the attraction, the almost visceral connection between us. But we needed to make sure it was what she wanted. We had to be completely honest with her.”
“You mean, you had to tell her you were lovers.”
Neither man flinched. Damion nodded. “It’s our intention to see where the attraction goes. When we find her, if she still feels the same way, we’ll draw up a contract for that stage of our relationship. But our hope is that eventually, she’ll agree to be our wife.”
“You believe she’s alive.”
Chance opened his mouth and then closed it. He turned to Damion, and raised one eyebrow.
Damion nodded slightly. “I know she’s alive. I can’t really explain it, but I’ve…felt her. I know she’s alive and neither of us will rest until we find her.”
“Fair enough,” Colleen said. “So, what do you have so far?”
Chance blew out a breath. “We know what she was working on, and why, and while we haven’t found her, we caught sight of her car on security footage.”
“We should show her Mercy’s notes,” Daniel said. “Colleen is a doctor and she might have some insight.”
“Yes, we should. In the dining room, where you’ll have more room.” Chance got up from the kitchen table, and took his laptop into that room, and set it up.
Daniel followed her, and saw to it she was seated and comfortable. She sighed when he squeezed her shoulder gently, then she got to work.
Colleen scrolled through the research Merc
y had collected on a drug called methodipirate. She couldn’t say she’d ever heard of the medication before and really didn’t understand what her sister’s interest could possibly be when she began to read. She got her first clue when she understood the drug’s primary use was in the treatment of migraines.
As she read, she began to understand where Mercy’s notes were leading. She opened another window on Chance’s laptop and did some checking. Finally, she looked up at the men—all four of them—who were waiting for her to say something.
“I don’t have a background in pharmacological research. You seem to think, having read her notes, that Mercy believes the reason Julie died was because of this drug? Any medication approved for use by the FDA has to pass rigorous testing. If there was even the most remote chance of this drug having adverse effects related to the cardiovascular system, that would have to be cited in any literature accompanying the medication. If the side effects were of a higher probability, then the medication wouldn’t have been approved. As near as I can tell, based on the information I’ve read, and checking the website of the company producing it and the FDA website, those tests on this medication were negative. No cardiovascular side effects.”
The men seemed to be communicating through some kind of telepathy, judging by the looks they gave each other. The thought crossed her mind that the ability to do so might be a requirement in order for one to be a Dom. Or Domme, since she knew that not all dominants were male.
“What if the tests were skewed?” Daniel asked. “What if the company who developed this drug knew of the side effect—even if it was a remote one—and somehow managed to fudge the testing? Think about it. How many people suffer from migraines? Thousands. If they were offered a drug that worked and was, in fact, sold OTC, the company producing it would rake in billions. That would be incentive enough to offer bribes to the right people.”
“That’s illegal!” Colleen considered herself smart, but sometimes, she said stupid things. She shook her head. “Of course, it’s illegal.” She paused for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. “If that was the case, well, Julie could very well have died as a result of taking methodipirate. She could have been the one in whatever number adversely affected by the medication. If the reports were skewed, it would have to be because the manufacturer knew the risk was significant. But not significant enough to draw attention. If everyone who took it died, well, that would be known by now.”
“Look, we’re not saying there is a problem with that drug,” Damion said. “We really don’t know if there is or not. We are saying Mercy believed there was. From the notes she made, she was clearly convinced that the man who created, and then marketed this so-called miracle drug for migraines—a Dr. Fitzhugh Symington—murdered her best friend by peddling a flawed medication.”
“We have surveillance footage showing her car parked a few blocks away from the company that created that drug—Symington Pharmaceuticals—on the day she disappeared.” Chance Carter looked tense. “The vehicle first shows up at eleven in the morning. Just after midnight, more than twelve hours later, someone carried her to her car, put her in the trunk, and drove away. We don’t know who, and we don’t know why. But we’re starting there.”
“Someone put her…” Colleen felt her heart leap to her throat. Her stomach clenched, and she had trouble breathing. Carter’s words hit her hard, even though she’d known her sister had been kidnapped.
“Why aren’t you out there right now looking for her? What the fuck are you doing here?” She knew she sounded hysterical, but she couldn’t help it.
Daniel squatted in front of her and took her hands in his. “Deep breath, Colleen. Now.”
His tone caught her, and while her mind rebelled, her body obeyed. She took in a deep breath. And then another and another, all the while keeping her gaze locked on him. His image blurred. She blinked, a desperate attempt to stop the tears.
Damion got down beside Daniel. “Colleen? We have people working on tracking her car, and I’ve got a tech running a very special program. We were able to get a partial image of the man who took her, and we’re using some classified technology to identify him. Until we get a tug on either of those two threads, there isn’t anything else we can do. In less than twenty-four hours being on the case, we’re closing in. Believe me when I tell you, if there was anything at all that we could do, we’d be out there doing it.”
“I know.” Just one look at Damion’s face, at Chance’s expression, let her know she wasn’t the only one suffering. She fisted her hands and struggled to get her emotions under control. Daniel still held her hands—no, he held her fists—and the way he gripped them invited her to draw strength from him. She looked up at Rob, who stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder. Then she met Daniel’s gaze again. The approval she read there, and the connection she felt to him, and to Rob, was instinctive.
She looked at Damion. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I know you’d be out there if it would make a difference.” She didn’t want to make any smarmy statements, like she knew he and Carter loved her sister as much as she did. She doubted they did, yet. But Mercy mattered to them, probably a lot. That was more than enough for now.
She exhaled and sat back. “Do you have any information on who else was looking for Mercy?”
“Yeah, and that’s what makes us believe she’s still alive.” Carter leaned against his chair and met her gaze. “My informant says the man who gave the orders to look for her is a man by the name of Jack Malone. It’s a name known at the HPD—he’s been a ‘person of interest’ in several mob-style crimes. Malone is rumored to have his fingers in all sorts of dirty pies, including gambling, drug running, theft, you name it. But he purports to be a legitimate businessman, even has a company on the books—Malone Enterprises. Digging into his tax records for the last year does show legal business transactions. I’m working on digging through that, and trying to get into his investment portfolio.”
“So, you have somewhere to go, something to work on while your people look for Mercy’s car and try to identify who took her.”
“She has anti-theft technology,” Damion said. “We don’t want to go through proper channels to locate the car, just in case Malone has eyes on those sites, too. So, we’re going to have someone try and hack into the appropriate system to see if we can locate her vehicle.”
“How much time will that take?”
“Best estimate is a few hours. As soon as we get a location, we will scout it out, and then, if we believe she’s there, we’ll move.”
“Okay, good.” She looked at Daniel. “That’s good, right?”
“It is.” He squeezed her hands. “But you need to know we won’t go charging in blindly. That could get Mercy killed. We’ll be careful, we’ll make certain she’s there, and that we can neutralize anyone who’s with her so we can get her out safely.”
“Sweetheart,” Rob ran his hand down her hair. “You’re going to have to trust us with this.”
Colleen knew she’d come a long way in a few short days. She’d been able to trust Daniel and Rob with her body and with her stress. Now they were asking her to trust them with her baby sister—in many ways, her baby.
A week ago, she wouldn’t have been able to do that. Now? She guessed if she could trust anyone, it would be these two men.
“I trust you. I trust you to make the decisions needed to be made.” She met Daniel’s gaze and then Rob’s. “I do trust you both.”
“Good girl. We promise you won’t regret it.”
“No. I won’t ever regret anything about this last week—except that my sister was taken.”
* * * *
Daniel no longer worried as much about protecting Colleen from the realities of the investigation. In only a couple of days, he and Rob had been able to form a strong enough bond with her that he knew they’d be able to get her through whatever the next twenty-four hours brought.
The dining room of her house had become a base, of sorts. The table held two
pcs and three laptops. Daniel wasn’t without his own contacts and spared no effort to do some digging of his own. He set about to verify the information Carter’s snitch had provided. After several phone calls and a quick trip out, he returned with results.
He waited until the others looked up from their work. “It was indeed Jack Malone who put the order out on Mercy. I also have the name of the man doing the hacking. He’s known as Sparky Jones—real first name Joe.”
“Sparky is an old-time handle for an electrician,” Damion said. “I wonder if that’s his day job. Only one way to find out. If he has a rep as a black hat, I’ll know where he is soon enough.”
“It also used to be the nickname given to the radio operators on ships,” Daniel said.
“Huh. I didn’t know that.” Damion returned to his keyboard.
Daniel turned his attention to Colleen.
“How does that help?” Her question caught him off guard, not because of any accusatory tone but for the lack of it. He had no doubt she was worried about her sister because the stress was showing on her. But she wanted to understand the process, and that, to him, was a damn good sign.
“It’s just a second source,” he said. “And because we have that second source, we can eliminate the ‘if’ factor. Two separate snitches give us the same story, so chances are greater it’s the truth. We’re on the right track and won’t waste time chasing false leads. Also, we gained another name. Damion will find the bastard.”
“Good.” Colleen nodded, but he could see her thoughts were still on what he’d said. “What you just did is like, when I order several tests on a patient. I may think I know what the problem is, based on the symptoms presented, but some symptoms can be the same for different diagnoses.”
Collaring Colleen [Tales from the Lyon's Den 2] Page 11
