“So, you hadn’t talked to anyone else about your BLM investigation?” Luke asked.
“No one officially. I didn’t have any statements on the record, but I had contacted—” She stopped. Her throat tightened. Was this whole mess going to come full circle back to the person she’d first suspected?
Luke took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You okay?”
She gulped. “Yeah. I…uh…just remembered I had contacted Secretary of the Interior Carmichael, Richard’s father. It was an off-the-record phone conversation. Very casual.” She stopped and rubbed her forehead. “Casual…but awkward.”
“Because you were criticizing his department?”
“No. Because I had already broken up with Richard. At least, I thought my relationship problems with his son were the reason for the awkwardness…at the time.”
“Shit,” all three men said at once.
“Yeah. But look. I didn’t accuse Arthur Carmichael of any wrongdoing. In fact, I didn’t accuse anyone of anything. Mostly, I asked questions about procedures and stayed at thirty thousand feet.”
Why was Luke shaking his head? Did he doubt her?
“If you don’t believe me, you can check my phone logs and listen to—” She stopped abruptly.
“What’s wrong?” Luke asked.
“The logs and recordings for the investigation are in the folder that’s missing.”
Luke exchanged a concerned glance with Jake and Sean. Then his gaze reconnected with hers.
“Do you think Secretary Carmichael was involved in those ‘abnormal’ deals?” he asked in a measured tone.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t get that far.”
Luke waited a few beats. “Would Daddy Carmichael have told Richard about your call?”
She sighed. “Probably.”
“Well, that would give the asshole two motives for having you kidnapped.”
The room went silent for a whole minute. Was everyone feeling as frustrated as she was?
“What was the ‘disturbing news’ you mentioned?” Jake asked.
She drew a deep breath. “My notes were about the last text the whistleblower had sent me. He’d confirmed one of the union enforcers was after him.”
“Did anything come of it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did he get his legs broken or something?” Jake explained in a joking tone that contrasted starkly with his worried expression.
“Honestly, I don’t know. He went dark. Never contacted me again, so I tried to get in touch with him. I even had one of my coworkers call his office at the BLM. His secretary said he just didn’t show up for work one day, and they hadn’t seen or heard from him since.”
Chapter 23
Locked inside the Inner Sanctum, Jake sat in front of a computer, his customary tumbler of Jack Daniel’s in one hand, a burner phone in the other. “The folder is labeled ‘BLM,’” he said to his FBI contact in Washington.
“That’s the fourth time you’ve told me,” Special Agent John Philips growled through the phone. “Shut up, Stone, or this call is over.”
“What’s taking so long?”
“I can’t find it.”
Damn. Jake leaned back in his chair and massaged the tight muscles in his neck. This missing folder snafu was getting under his skin. At first, he’d thought he had somehow screwed up when copying Elle’s data onto the flash drive. But then he’d searched through all the FBI files on his computer, and it wasn’t there either. Now Philips couldn’t find it in the FBI’s system. What the hell had happened to it?
Patience wasn’t Jake’s forte, but he managed to keep his mouth shut for the next five minutes.
“It’s not here,” Philips finally announced. “What the fuck is going on?”
“My sentiments exactly. Did you look—”
“Don’t start nagging me. I looked everywhere except up my ass and only because I can’t reach it.”
Jake snorted. “Okay. Let’s see if we can nail down when the folder disappeared.”
“Good idea. You said Ms. Bradley accounted for all her other files after discovering the BLM folder was gone, and she doesn’t believe anything else is missing. So, our copy of her hard drive is complete except for that one folder. It’s not like we scrambled or lost a bunch of her stuff in the copying process or something.” Philips hesitated. “Which makes me think we never got it.”
“Meaning the BLM folder was deleted before her laptop was in your possession.”
“Must’ve been.”
“I double-checked the lists of items the FBI seized from Elle’s condo, office, and car, but I didn’t see the laptop listed. When and where did you confiscate it?”
“Hold on a minute. I saw something…,” Philips said and paused. “Yeah. Here it is. After we were unable to locate her laptop in any of our searches, we asked her parents if they knew where it was. They said she didn’t usually bring it to their house when she visited, but they would look around. Next day, Harlan Bradley showed up here with it. They’d found it in a dresser drawer in their daughter’s old bedroom.”
“Let me guess. The Bradleys claimed they had no idea how Elle’s computer got there.”
“Not quite. They actually blamed Richard Carmichael. Before he went off on his cross-country jaunt, he insisted on doing his own ludicrous investigation because he knew Elle better than the FBI did. Richard is an egotistical prick, if you ask me. Anyway, after borrowing the parents’ spare key to her condo, he searched it and her old bedroom at their house.”
“Since Elle’s parents worship the prick and want him for a son-in-law, it seems odd they would throw him under the bus. So why would they make the case that Carmichael had hidden the laptop?”
“Don’t know.”
“And how would he have gotten possession of it? I’m sure the FBI had searched her condo before Carmichael did.”
“Absolutely. And we’d also searched her old bedroom first. The laptop wasn’t either place.”
Jake scratched his head. “Where the hell was it all that time?”
“Remember, we’re talking about only a few days between when she disappeared and when Harlan brought it in. It’s not like someone had to hide the damn thing for an extended period.”
“Right. It only takes a couple seconds to delete a folder and then a few more to remove it permanently from the trash/recycle bin. Another thing that’s been bothering me is the FBI’s refusal to share information with the San Diego Sheriff’s Department. What’s up with that?”
Philips cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “Came from the top.”
“And why couldn’t Elle get her own computer files from you guys?”
“Again, from the top. Rumor is Secretary Carmichael personally called the FBI Director and convinced him to nix any cooperation.”
“Why?”
Philips grunted. “The rumor mill says dear old dad was worried there might be sexually explicit pictures of his son.”
Jake bellowed with laughter. “I don’t see Elle being into that shit. Is Boy Carmichael known for such behavior?”
“Hell, I don’t know.”
“It might explain why he’d want to hide Elle’s laptop.”
“As far as I know, we didn’t find any naked pictures of him…or her…or them. And, of course, Boy Carmichael denied even seeing her laptop after she disappeared,” Philips said.
“Yeah, no big surprise there.”
“What’s in the damn folder that makes you so hot to find it? I’m guessing it isn’t kinky pics of Boy Carmichael unless BLM stands for Bondage of Little Man.”
Now Jake had to decide how much to share of what Elle had disclosed. He didn’t want to violate her trust. But based on what she’d revealed, Daddy and Boy Carmichael were looking better and better for being behind the kidnapping. The Washington FBI had a better chance than anyone in California of successfully digging into that angle. He wanted them on it without being too obvious. “Serious
ly, Philips, you do know what BLM stands for, right?”
“Boys Love Masturbation.”
Jake chuckled. “You’re just dreaming. A wet dream, to be specific.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know about the Bureau of Land Management and that it’s under Carmichael’s department.”
“Good. Now think hard, real hard. Elle is an investigative reporter, so why would she have a folder labeled ‘BLM’?”
* * *
Frustration and tension kept Elle marching back and forth across the carpeted floor while Luke stretched out on the bed with a cold Corona. They’d returned to the guesthouse after Jake had disappeared to someplace in the main house and Sean had gone off to take care of some Rogue Security business in San Diego.
Elle paced like a caged animal. Not so much because of the four walls, but because of the lack of progress on her kidnapping. After the exhilaration of getting her computer files, the mystery of what had happened to the BLM folder had severely dampened her mood. The possible connection between her Bureau of Land Management investigation—as preliminary as it was—and both Carmichael men was undeniable. Which meant Richard figured prominently on the suspect list. Again.
“Take a load off,” Luke said and patted the bed. “You’re making me tired.”
“I need to do something,” she said without stopping.
“I can think of something a lot more fun than wearing a path in Stone’s carpet.”
“I thought we agreed this morning that it shouldn’t happen again,” she said, trying not to show her disappointment.
“You think I’m suggesting sex?”
Embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “Aren’t you?”
He snorted. “Don’t you think we can have fun…without sex?” His deadpan expression made her laugh.
She sashayed to the bed and lay down beside him. “Show me how.”
Luke propped himself up on his good arm, leaned over her, and kissed her thoroughly. She gasped for air when he finally broke the kiss.
“How’s that? Fun?” he asked.
“Hmm. My turn.” She pushed him down on the sheets and got on her knees. Slowly, she pulled his T-shirt up over his abs, past his chest, and tucked it under his chin. Then she licked the hollow at the base of his neck before trailing her tongue through his golden chest hair to a small, dark nipple. After flicking it a few times with her tongue, she drew circles around it and grinned when he released a long groan. She repeated the process on his other nipple, earning another tortured moan. Next, she kissed her way past his navel to the waistband of his jeans.
“Fun,” she announced triumphantly, noting with satisfaction the huge bulge beneath his fly.
With a growl, he sat up in front of her. While placing butterfly kisses down the side of her neck, he unbuttoned her blouse, slid it off, and tossed it aside. His tongue stroked her cleavage as he removed her bra. She shivered with anticipation as his hungry gaze devoured her breasts. His mouth followed suit, but his fingers were busy unzipping her jeans. Then his lips blazed a path to the edge of her lacy panties. She squirmed, hoping, praying, he wouldn’t stop. But he did.
“Having fun?” he asked mischievously.
“Hmm.” She planted her palms on his chest and pushed him onto his back. Facing his legs, she straddled him. “Lift your butt,” she ordered, unzipping his jeans. She hooked her fingers in the waistband and shoved his pants down. Next, his boxer briefs went to his knees. She wrapped her hand around his hard dick and stroked.
“Have mercy, Elle,” Luke hissed. When she didn’t stop, he slammed one fist on the bed. “Screw this.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him yank off his sling and throw it on the floor. Before she could react, he grasped her waist with both hands, flipped her off him, and laid her on her back. Her heart pounding, she stared at the intensity on his face as he removed her jeans, leaving her wearing only tiny lacy panties. After discarding his own pants and briefs, he stretched out between her legs. His eyes gleamed with lust. Her body clenched in anticipation.
Starting at her knee, his tongue took a warm, wet, leisurely trip up her inner thigh, stopping just shy of her crotch. She groaned with disappointment. He traced the same course on her other leg. But this time, after a moment’s hesitation, his tongue trailed along the edge of the lace before sliding beneath it and between her folds.
She gasped, and her whole body tightened. “Luke, have mercy,” she whimpered.
He chuckled and stroked her until she clutched handfuls of the sheet. Dizzying desire ignited and spread. To hell with what they’d agreed to this morning, she wanted Luke inside her.
“Elle, are you there?” Jake’s voice came out of nowhere.
She squealed, jolted upright, and slapped her hands over her bare breasts.
“Relax, babe. He’s on the intercom,” Luke said. “Pick up the phone.”
She had to cough her heart out of her throat before she grabbed the phone on the nightstand. “Y-yes, we’re here. I mean, I’m here.” Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes. “What’s up?”
Luke wiggled his very “up” dick, and she almost lost it.
“Am I…uh…interrupting something? If this is a bad time—” Jake said, his tone teasing.
“Not at all. Nothing going on here.” She stuck her tongue out at Luke.
“Okay.” Jake cleared his throat. “Apparently, Special Agent Holmes has been trying for hours to call Johnson’s cell, which he decided must be turned off. But he remembered Burke’s name from the confrontation at the hospital and tracked down his cell number in hopes of getting in touch with you.”
She tensed. “Why?”
“Burke just called me with the message Holmes left. He’s asking you to phone Richard immediately. Says it’s urgent.”
Chapter 24
It’s a bullshit idea, Elle,” Luke said adamantly. He paced across Stone’s family room to the patio door and back. Considering the potential connection they’d discovered between her BLM investigation and the Carmichaels, why was she being so stubborn about this?
“I agree,” Stone said.
“Look. Richard just wants to apologize and say good-bye before going back to Washington,” Elle explained.
“He can do it on the phone,” Luke snapped.
“I suggested that, but he claims he really needs me to see how sincere he is.”
“Skype or FaceTime.”
“I’m sure those won’t fly either,” she said. “Dammit, Luke, I don’t want to do this, but I think it’s worth the hassle if it gets rid of Richard permanently.”
“I don’t trust the asshole.”
“Me neither,” Stone chimed in again.
“Special Agent Holmes will be escorting him. What trouble could Richard possibly cause?” Elle asked.
“I can imagine plenty of things, but I don’t think he’s that smart. Just devious. But devious is enough to worry me,” Luke said, shaking his head in disapproval.
Elle lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.
Shit, she isn’t going to cave. He glared at her. “You’re damn well not going alone.”
Her expression relaxed slightly. “Of course not. I told Richard I’d have my own armed bodyguard, so he had better not do anything to tick me off.”
Luke cocked his head and frowned. “And he was okay with that?”
She looked down and shuffled her feet. “Uh, he agreed to it but said he needed some privacy for such an emotional farewell, so I agreed you’d stay out of sight.”
“Like hell.”
“Then I’ll ask Jake or Sean to come with me.”
“Wait just a damn minute. You’re not putting me in the middle of this,” Stone said, holding up both hands and backing away.
“All right. Sean it is.” Elle planted her hands on her hips.
Luke drew a deep breath and held it a moment before exhaling through clenched teeth. “Not happening. I’m going with you or I’m…I’m done here. Done with all of this.” He speared her with his no-n
onsense stare.
She opened her mouth, probably to argue, but popped it shut and nodded.
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded again. Striking Elle Bradley speechless felt like quite a victory.
“Okay. Set it up,” Luke said.
Elle grabbed Stone’s sat phone from the end table and headed out the patio door toward the guesthouse. Both men watched her leave.
“Bad idea,” Stone muttered.
“I know, and I said so from the moment she told us what Carmichael wanted. You weren’t much help with convincing her to drop it.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
Luke’s head snapped back. “She’s not…uh…we’re not…in a relationship.”
Stone snorted. “So it’s just friends with benefits?”
“It’s none of your fucking business.”
“You’re right. I don’t give a damn if you’re screwing each other. My only point is you’re the one who cares about her the most, and she obviously cares for you, so you have a better chance of getting through to her.”
She obviously cares for you. What had given Stone that impression? Had Elle said something to him?
Guessing they had hooked up was one thing, but thinking they cared about each other took it to another level. A level where he had to tread lightly. Dating, casual sex, and flings he could do and still handle all the responsibility of taking care of Karla. His sister would be his first priority until she was solidly on her feet and hopefully married. She’d been doing really well with growing more independent until the recent incident with Jessie’s ex. That scare had definitely set Karla back. She still needed her big brother. He sighed. He had to keep his priorities straight.
“I got through to Elle as well as I could,” he said, refusing to address Stone’s assumptions any further. “She’s not going to change her mind about saying good-bye to Carmichael in person. But with Holmes and me both keeping an eye on him, what could go wrong?”
Only Obsession (Rogue Security Book 3) Page 20
