Bootscootin' and Cozy Cash Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-6)

by Scott, D. D.

  Audrey took the items he gave her, her skin warming from the brush of his fingertips as he handed her another small stack of paint samples.

  She’d always resisted trying to achieve anything while being dependent on someone — especially her family. She normally resisted help. But thanks to Damian and their Music City extended family, she was starting to accept that maybe she didn’t have to always go it alone.

  Yes, she’d always had Jules and Roxy. But all three of them had family situations where they each understood going it alone and on their own terms. And they gave each other the space to let that happen. Well…enough space until one of them was close to being swallowed by it. In those moments, they’d always been there to save each other from themselves.

  But sitting here with Damian, planning for their future home and the home of their children, made Audrey think of the world in a different way than she ever had.

  It was pretty terrific, sitting on the couch with the man of your dreams, and building, yes, literally building your future together. Discovering how and what the other person thought and felt about the decisions you were making or the situation you were in didn’t have to always be scary.

  The McCall way of dealing with those parts of life, was simply not to deal with ‘em at all. Or in the rare cases where something must be said, it was done on the family’s letterhead stationary or by electronic devices like Blackberries and iPhones.

  Never once could she recall sitting down and discussing anything of emotional significance with her parents or her brothers either for that matter. McCall’s never talked directly about their feelings.

  She’d read more about how they supposedly felt on things in the weekly tabloids, never really knowing, in most cases, what, if any of that information was true. But she had to take those tidbits as the closest to personal she’d ever get to them, ever again.

  And now that her father had been turned into the FBI — and was awaiting trial — she only heard about her family through her handlers, who had in turn talked to their handlers, and were then simply relaying messages.

  Her life had come down to a my people have talked to your people thing. Real nice. But actually for the best, Audrey supposed.

  She sighed, refusing to feel sorry for her situation and re-focused instead on the paint samples on her lap, lovingly chosen for her and about to be discussed with her. And this time, not only were her feelings and thoughts wanted and appreciated, but also honored by a man who’d changed her life forever.

  Perusing the samples, she was really getting a kick out of Damian’s choices.

  He’d clearly taken all the samples the store had in their baby room section. She had the classic baby pinks and blues, then some muted greens and yellows.

  She noticed he had held back a few samples, and appeared to be waiting to see what her reaction was to the colors he’d first presented.

  “So let’s see the ones you haven’t given me yet,” she said, enjoying watching him fidget and get that ornery grin on his face.

  He handed her a batch of brilliantly colored vibrant hues, ranging from lemon yellow to royal purple and fire engine red.

  Audrey threw her arms around Damian’s upper body, hugging him so tight she was a bit afraid she’d hurt his neck.

  “You sooo get me, and I love you beyond love you for that, Baby,” she said, unable to find the words to tell him how much just him choosing such great colors meant to her.

  Without saying a word, his aw shucks grin and shy tilt of his head, told her he knew the kind of happiness and love she felt, and that he was happy to shower her with it.

  “How ‘bout we check out your drawings too,” she said, suddenly full of energy to jump into planning for their nursery.

  Damian put the plans on her lap and was showing her what-meant-what when their doorbell rang.

  They both jumped, surprised to hear it chime. Ever since they’d had all the additional security, no one was allowed close enough to the door, let alone close enough to ring the bell.

  “What the hell?” Damian practically jumped off the couch and headed for the door. “Stay here and get down. Now.”

  Audrey’s pulse quickened to a point she shivered as she slid off the couch and wedged herself between the sofa’s edge and the gigantic coffee table now filled with their nursery design paraphernalia.

  She heard all kinds of commotion coming from the foyer, punctuated by Roman and Zoey ordering Damian to get down. And judging by the urgency in both their voices, they weren’t messing around. There was no way he was opening that door they said, and damn well meant it.

  She heard someone, though, open the door.

  “What the fuck?” Roman said.

  Chapter Ten

  Damian couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  And frankly, unless he was now bent over the same package that Roman Bellesconi was too, picking through the obscenely expensive box of loot that had arrived at his doorstep, he still wouldn’t believe it.

  God only knew how the package got there and who delivered it.

  But evidently, Audrey’s father, Bernie McCall, could still manipulate and control people while in FBI custody.

  Amazing. Fucking amazing. And scary as fuck at the same time.

  Following the bomb squad’s confirmation that nothing explosive was included in the parcel, Damian watched as Roman carefully sifted through the contents.

  They’d come across explosively expensive items, but nothing that would physically blow-up in their faces…yet.

  The package included an array of fine watches and jewelry, all set with a shitload of diamonds and other, way out of Damian’s league, gems and precious stones.

  He couldn’t even begin to put a price tag on the contents, although he knew Audrey could.

  Roman pulled a sealed and McCall family crested envelope out of the bottom of the box, then handed it to one of the package specialist on his team. Damian figured he probably wanted to make sure nothing, beyond the fact it was from Audrey’s family, was lethal about the letter’s content.

  Two immediate concerns shook Damian to his very core.

  In fact, his stomach was still roiled and twisted into tension-filled knots, the same uneasy feeling he’d had when he’d first seen the package on his stoop.

  How and who had managed to get past all this security to deliver a package to their front door?

  And what the hell did the package mean for their safety?

  ‘Course once the letter had been deemed safe to open, they might have an answer — at least a partial one — to his second concern.

  But that still left to wild and beyond fathomable speculation as to how and who did this job.

  Damian knew by the somewhat befuddled and grave concern written all over Roman’s face, plus the deep-set scowl now clouding his stark, angular jaw line, that he and Audrey’s numero uno handler was pondering the same damn thing.

  “What the hell is this? And what the hell does it mean?” That’s it, Damian thought, deciding to voice what they both were thinking and stewing about.

  “To be honest, I don’t know yet. But I will tell you I don’t like it. At all,” Roman said taking his gun out of the back of his waistband and placing it back into his shoulder holster.

  A gesture not the least bit comforting to Damian, being as it meant he wanted it there so it would be easier to draw if need be. Yeah. Damian had watched plenty of TV to know that little trick.

  There were times like these when Damian wished with everything he had that Audrey would have not done the right thing, not taken the documents she had found incriminating her father to the FBI. He constantly damned the day she came upon her father’s private files, files with ties to very bad people — like the Russian mafia and international drug cartels — people who would stop at nothing to protect what they once had ‘til Audrey’s father stole it from them then lost it all.

  And even though he sort of liked Roman, and really enjoyed Zoey’s presence, if for nothing el
se than she seemed to be a source of calm and reason to Audrey, Damian was completely unconvinced that the Witness Protection Program was capable of protecting people like Audrey against the people her father had big-time wronged.

  He knew Roman and Zoe worked well into the night, most every night, going through piles and piles of photos and documents and maps, doing their best to lay out solid, safety-guaranteed plans.

  But he also knew, from what little he’d gotten out of them, their caseloads were unrealistically high, meaning there were always corners they just couldn’t get to and safeguard for all eventualities.

  Knowing that, somehow, some way, Bernie had gotten this package to them confirmed Damian’s concerns.

  And to think, they had to live this way, until at least after Audrey testified to the grand jury, a date for which was still months away, past the due date for their twins.

  Christ. This was a mess. And a mess that just kept amplifying itself.

  “How could this happen? How could a package like this get through? And right to our God damn door?” Damian knew he was harsh, but dammit somebody had to get a grip on this and fast, before it was too late.

  These guys were supposed to be the experts for Christ’s sake. He wasn’t impressed at all with what they knew and didn’t know. And he was growing less impressed on a way too regular basis.

  First, the crazy ass paparazzi snowmobilers had made it to their breakfast nook window, and now a suspicious package at their front door!

  Damian wanted answers, and he wanted ‘em now.

  Now, God dammit!

  “I’m going to level with you,” Roman said, briefly hanging his head then shaking it as if he were still a bit baffled and hesitant to voice his concerns. “I’m afraid this could be an inside job.”

  “You’ve got to be…”

  “Just hear me out,” Roman said.

  What choice did he fucking have, Damian thought. Of course he’d hear him out.

  The love of his life’s safety as well as their unborn twins and his, plus their extended family too, depended on getting to the bottom of this.

  “There’s got to be some kind of leak in the marshal’s office. Some kind of dirty pool, playing both sides, deals going down. I don’t know yet. But what I do know is that without those kinda deals, those snowmobilers wouldn’t have gotten even close to your front window. And this package, well, let’s just say, it wouldn’t have made it here either.”

  Roman paced the floor of the foyer while he gave voice to his concerns, pacing like Damian was starting to know all too well meant Roman was making all this info fit into his mind then gel into some new action plan. So far his action plans had sort of worked. So maybe Damian should keep listening.

  “Somehow Bernie or the people he’s screwed over are still calling some shots. And it’s going to my job, in order to keep you safe, to figure out who it is, and what the deals are,” Roman said, stopping his assault on Damian’s hardwood floors and staring straight at him.

  “This letter is all clear, Sir,” one of the evidence techs said, handing it back to Roman.

  Roman examined the front of the envelope then looked back to Damian.

  Tapping it against the open palm of his hand, he said, “This is addressed to Audrey. It’s time we see what it contains.”

  “Let’s go,” Damian said and led the way to his great room where Audrey was waiting and probably about ready to go nuts wondering what was going on now.

  • • •

  Seeing Damian come into the room immediately ushered in a huge burst of relief.

  Audrey ran to him and buried her head in his rock solid chest, wishing he’d somehow swallow her up and hide her from a world that was becoming increasingly a very ominous place for her and their babies to be part of.

  The feel of his work-hardened muscles against her cheeks made her fear a bit more manageable. But far from completely allayed.

  Seeing the serious set of Roman’s rigid-on-a-good-day jaw, she knew nothing good was about to be revealed.

  “Why don’t you have a seat, Audrey,” Roman said directing her to the couch that was quickly becoming her therapy center. “We’ve got something we need you to review.”

  Audrey noticed Roman held a small white envelope of very good cardstock. She sat, completely confused by what kind of letter was that important…unless…

  Her hands began to shake at the same time tiny tremors jolted her insides.

  Surely not.

  She hadn’t gotten one single note from her family since she’d escaped to Music City. Not one. Not from her brothers. Her mother. Or her father. They didn’t even know her address. And they definitely wouldn’t know Damian’s.

  Right?

  How could they get a letter out other than through the family’s handlers?

  And she damn well knew her father sure as hell wasn’t writing from FBI custody — wherever the hell that was — on their family-crested stationery.

  But who used that high of quality of letterhead except her family?

  She’d know the placement of the McCall family crest and seal anywhere, and she swore she now saw part of the eloquent rich, scrolled M snaking outside Roman’s fingers.

  “This came in a package for you today, Audrey,” Roman said, one of the evidence techs then handing him a box that must have come with the letter.

  Audrey reached out for the letter, unable to hide the nerves shaking her fingers.

  There was just no way to cover her fears. Just like apparently there was no way she could hide from the cause and now perpetuators of those fears.

  Taking the letter between her fingers, she moved back into the comfort of the huge red, goose-down stuffed pillows of the couch, wishing they’d simply swallow her and make her vanish into an Alice in Wonderland-like vacuum. She didn’t even think the Queen of Hearts was as scary as Bernie McCall and the power he must still exercise at will.

  Noticing the letter had already been opened and taken out of its envelope, she took a deep breath, supposing she should be glad to have people around her looking out for her safety. With the kind of people her father had screwed over, who knew who and what they were capable of.

  Taking the letter out of the envelope, she knew immediately it was from her father, noticing his heavy-handed writing had punctuated the paper, almost making it appear in relief form on the back of the high quality stock.

  She opened the note, seeking comfort in the presence of Damian’s arms around her shoulders. Coaching her breath to match his much slower rate, she began to read.

  With every line she read, she felt a fire red burn ascend first her stomach, then work its way up past her lungs before settling into her throat then pushing its way to the tips of her ears. Painful surges of rage pinged against her eardrums, suddenly making her feel as if she were battling a nasty cold that had decided to stop and stay for awhile.

  But yeah. That was what her family had become to her…the same body sapping, energy suck as a nasty, nasty cold.

  Her mind refused to allow her eyes to continue to focus on her father’s words, although the tricks the mind plays on your heart and soul also would refuse to ever let her forget the false sincerity of her father’s words.

  He claimed to be sending her many of his and her mother’s luxury watches and jewels, which they’d somehow managed to shield from authorities, in hopes she would pass them onto she and Damian’s children…and yes, children as in twins. Somehow he not only knew about Damian and their pregnancy. He knew where they lived. And…he knew he was to have twin grandchildren.

  For a moment, she thought she was going to be sick.

  She inhaled deeply, coaching her mind and body to protect itself and her family first.

  And to do that, she couldn’t allow herself to be taken over by the rage and fear pulling at her stomach and chest and every muscle in between, above and below.

  “So I take it the package is worth a small fortune,” she said, swallowing her ill feelings and dread.
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  “Take a look for yourself,” Roman said then handed her the box.

  Just from the sheer weight of the medium sized parcel, Audrey could only imagine what was carefully packed away inside.

  She pushed apart the packing material and couldn’t help but gasp.

  Damn near blinded by the large diamonds and gemstones expertly inlaid into countless ounces of platinum and gold, she took stock of what was there.

  Five-carat diamond rings were nestled in with rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and brilliant amethysts. Each piece — whether rings, earrings or fancy elegant cuff and bangle bracelets - easily worth one hundred thousand plus. Two of her father’s vintage steel Rolex watches, probably valued at sixty thousand or more, were there, as well as one of his cherished miniature statues of some kind of bull, one of which had already been sold for $3,300 despite its broken-off tail.

  “I just don’t understand how my parents kept these things out of the U. S. Marshal’s auctions,” Audrey said, not wanting to touch any of the items, thinking some of their tainted symbology might somehow rub off on her.

  “That’s a great question,” Roman agreed. “I was under the impression that our guys had seized everything in your parent’s Manhattan penthouse as well as everything from their Long Beach Island house, the Palm Beach home and various other properties in Colorado and Europe.”

  “Ahhh, but never underestimate my father’s reach,” Audrey said, all too well-versed on his ability to control everything and everyone around him. “He and my mother probably had these items stored somewhere for later use. My concern is who’s at his beck and call now and doing the dirty work for him.”

  Audrey’s vocal chords suddenly felt squeezed-tight. She reached for the bottle of water Zoey had brought in for her earlier while they were still hiding in the great room waiting to see what was going on at their front door.

  “What about your brothers? Or your mother?” Zoey asked, looking at Roman, as if they both might know more than they were letting on, but needed to figure out what exactly she knew first.