“Your job gets in the way.”
Was this leading somewhere? “Much like you, I love what I do, and I’m devoted to my career. You’re lucky to work with your sister. Do you see your parents much?”
Charlie swung into the room and stopped at Meg’s chair. “No, we don’t.”
One side of Meg’s mouth quirked. “Touché, Agent Sinclair.”
Charlie leaned a hand on the back of her sister’s chair and put the other on her hip. “I believe what my polite but curious sister here is trying to get around to is that we think of Matt as a little brother and we don’t want to see him get hurt.”
Taylor jerked back. “Get hurt? By me?”
Meg held up a hand as if to reassure her, but Charlie slapped it down. “Professionally, Matt could get a black eye over this case if you screw up. Oh, wait, you already did. The potential for us to lose Walt as our client is nearly a certainty if he finds out Matt is working with you, which means, you’re jeopardizing our agency, Taylor. Add to that the fact that your recent actions have gotten you shot at and suspended, and I’d say you’re definitely putting Matt’s career—and possibly his life—on the line along with yours.”
Meg scooted forward and set her mug on the desk, giving Taylor a serious look. “It’s obvious Matt cares about you. In fact, I’ve never seen him so…enamored. I’m concerned about his emotional well-being once you go back to being an FBI agent and no longer need him for this case.”
Taylor’s hackles weren’t just up, they were shooting lightning bolts. “I’m not using him for this case. I care about him too. Very much so. And I’m sure you two have done your homework. You probably ran a background check on me the minute Matt mentioned my name. What is it that you really want to know?”
“As you just stated,” Meg said, “you don’t have time to visit your parents, or even to keep a pet. Exactly how do you propose you have time for a committed relationship?”
Was she serious?
Charlie cleared her throat. “Matt’s relationship with you is none of our business, but we do care about him, and don’t want to lose him. He’s the best we’ve had at our agency in a long time, and we only hire topnotch candidates.”
Maybe it wasn’t just Taylor they were worried about. They were worried about Grey poaching Matt.
For some reason, that made Taylor smile. “Matt is committed to you and this agency, but he’s a grown man with a stubborn streak and some pretty lofty goals in life. All of us want what’s best for him, but I doubt any of us can keep him from taking risks and doing what he believes is right, fair, and just. I fully support him in that, and you should too.”
Charlie winked at her. “I think you just answered our biggest question, Taylor.”
Meg smiled, a big, goofy grin. “With flying colors.”
It took a second for Taylor to realize she’d just been had. She ran her hands through her hair and chuckled. “Well played, ladies. You had me going there for a moment with the big sister act.”
“Oh, we do consider ourselves his big sisters,” Charlie said. “If you break his heart, I guarantee your suspension from the FBI will be the least of your problems. But, yeah, we wanted to see what you’d say if we pushed you about him. I think you passed.”
“She did.” Meg gave a real smile and rose. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Agent Sinclair. We’ll let you get back to work now.”
Taylor silently shook her head as the sisters left. It was good that Matt had these two looking out for him, and their points were valid. She had no intention of bringing Matt down if she took the fall on this case.
She also wasn’t going to break his heart.
She dialed to tell him about the silver truck, and the call went to his voicemail. God, I love that voice.
She left a message, then decided to push her luck with the sisters.
Charlie was in her office, typing on her computer. “What’s up?” she asked when Taylor stopped in her doorway.
“I need to borrow a car.”
“Do I want to know where you’re going?”
“I found a silver truck that matches the one we’re looking for. Matt’s still tied up with Walt and I don’t have my car here.”
“Matt left orders not to let you go anywhere on your own.” Charlie stopped typing and grabbed a set of keys from her desk drawer. She rose and shoved her office chair in. “You can ride shotgun.”
The ride to the address wasn’t as bad as the interrogation in Matt’s office. Charlie had once been FBI. She spoke Taylor’s language and drove like a bat out of hell. So mostly, Taylor held on to the door handle and kept her mouth shut.
“This is it,” Charlie said, pulling to a stop at the curb.
Taylor looked at the house number, back to her notes, and then to the empty driveway. “Dammit. In the time it took to drive here, he’s already gone.”
“Do you have a name?”
Taylor dialed Grey. “I will in a moment.”
Grey answered on the first ring and she fed him the license plate number and address. “This could be our guy, the one who kidnapped Felicity.”
“Give me a sec…” The sound of keystrokes filtered through the phone. “Whatever you do, do not engage the owner of the truck. Let Stephens do it. If this is our kidnapper, he could also be the killer.”
“Matt’s not here. I can handle it.”
“You went by yourself?”
The annoyance in Grey’s voice set her nerves on edge. “I’m with Charlie Schock, but seriously, you’re all acting like I can’t take care of myself. I know how to apprehend a suspect.”
“Where is Matt?” Grey ground out.
“He’s at Walt’s asking about the decal on the truck.”
Frustration strained Grey’s voice even more. “We’re running in too many directions with this case. The silver truck is a solid lead into Felicity’s kidnapping, but I’m not sure about this Rosalind or if she has anything to do with Baby Jarvis.”
“Charlie clued me in on how the illegal birth certificates and adoption papers work. Teeg could run the names on the birth certificate I sent you and see what pops up.”
A long pause. A heavy sigh. “This is spinning out of control. We need to regroup and work up an effective plan. I want everyone in my office in one hour. Including the Schock sisters. Capisce?”
“You want me to bring them to your place?” Taylor sat back and glanced at Charlie. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Get your ass in gear, round up your partner, and let’s get this done.”
* * *
It wasn’t everyday Justice Greystone called a meeting that included his team, a suspended FBI agent, a private investigator, a forensic sculptor, and a psychologist.
This was either the A Team or they’d wind up killing each other.
Either way, it’d be interesting.
Matt grabbed one of the beat-up metal-framed chairs stacked in the corner and pulled it in front of the giant whiteboard Grey had wheeled into the center of the Justice Team’s command center.
“Okay, people,” Grey said, waving a marker at the motley crew sitting in a quasi row/semi-circle in front of him. “We need to divvy up assignments here. I can’t have all of you running around half-cocked.”
On the whiteboard he made five columns. “The silver truck. Stephens, I want you on that. I’ve got the owner’s name. I need you to run the guy and see if he has a record.”
“Fine.”
In the first column, Grey wrote truck then Matt’s name in the far left side of the board. He placed a checkmark in the column.
“Rosalind Gardener. I’m putting Mitch and Caroline on her.”
He wrote the woman’s name in the next column, then M/C under Matt’s name with another checkmark in that column.
Caroline held her hand up. “What exactly are we doing?”
“The same as the other adoption agencies you’ve been working on. Pose as a potential client. You’re looking to adopt.”
“Migh
t I suggest,” Taylor said, holding up her pen, “that they pose as an upscale couple. When Matt and I were in her office, we heard Ros say something about parents with good breeding; the child was from good stock.”
“I’m not wearing a tie,” Mitch said.
“Idiot,” Caroline said, “you don’t have to. We’ll put you in some Yeezy jeans and sneakers and you’ll be all set. Just try to control your mouth.”
“That’ll set Grey’s budget back,” Taylor said.
Mitch blew Caroline a kiss and Matt snorted.
“Are we done screwing around?” Grey wanted to know.
Caroline jotted a note on her pad. “Sorry, boss.”
“Charlie and Meg. Since Walt is your client and I’m sure you’re bound by a confidentiality agreement, it’s probably best that we leave all things Walt-related to you.”
“I agree,” Charlie said, “Obviously, I can’t share that information with you.”
“Yes, but you can share it with Matt.”
Matt liked the sound of this so far. Two out of three assignments involved him. Grey wrote Felicity’s name in the next column then added Meg/Charlie to the left sidebar along with two more checkmarks.
Taylor held her pen up again. “How about the guy who broke into my place and attacked me in the garage? I believe he’s linked to the Jarvis case. My team has had no luck finding him, but maybe if we go back over the evidence?”
“Let me look into it,” Charlie said. “I can get a friend in the Bureau to pull camera footage from the garage.”
Taylor chewed her pen. “He was wearing a mask, so facial rec won’t work.”
“We have something better,” Teeg called. “It can match a perp’s gait and other things. We don’t need his face.”
Charlie grinned. “I’ve got to see that.”
Grey added the next column and appropriate check marks. “Okay. Let’s start breaking all this down. We’ll list anything related to your individual assignments to the corresponding column. When we’re done, take a picture of this board if you have to because these are the assignments. If there’s any crossover, I need to be notified. At any given time, I want to look at this board and know who is doing what. Got it?”
A series of yes-sirs filled the otherwise quiet room.
“As usual, we’ll use Teeg as support. Just don’t bombard him. He’s working another case for me so we’ll all have to cooperate.”
“I know I’m a catch, but don’t fight over me!” Teeg called, rolling back and forth between three oversized monitors.
Jeez, the kid had a lot of activity happening there.
Grey sighed. “Shut it, Teeg. Where are we on that birth certificate?”
Using one foot, Teeg pushed off and sent his chair backward just enough for him to reach the printer perched on top of a folding table. A practiced move, for sure.
Matt leaned sideways and bumped Taylor. “Wonder how long he’s been practicing that move?”
She offered up a winning smile. “I was just thinking that.”
“Long time,” Mitch said. “He’s wrecked three printers. Keeps running into the table and knocking it over. Bye-bye printers.”
“Ouch,” Matt said.
The printer spit out a sheet of paper and Teeg snatched it up. “You’re gonna love this, boss.”
“What is it?”
“They’re dead.”
That statement had everyone spinning to face the computer nerd. “Who?” Matt asked.
“The parents. The ones listed on the birth certificate.”
Dead? Now that he hadn’t anticipated. “Both of them? What happened? They die in an accident and that’s why the baby was up for adoption?”
That sounded harsh, but hell, if both parents had no other family, it could happen.
“Nope,” Teeg said. “They’ve been dead since 1950.”
Moving fast, Grey crossed the room and ripped the report from Teeg’s hands. “Seriously?”
Taylor hopped up and joined Grey at the printer where he handed the document over. “Are we sure this is the same couple?”
Teeg’s computer dinged and he rolled back to it. “Unless there are two other married people with the same exact names who are dead. And, nothing else came up when I ran the search.”
“That’s a little screwy,” Taylor said.
His mind ticking through possibilities, Matt kept his gaze on Taylor as he sorted his thoughts. Mistaken identity, fake names. Identity theft. Well, shit.
“Hang on,” Matt flicked his hand back and forth. “This could be identity theft. I went to the academy with a guy who later joined the CIA. If he needed an alias, he’d walk through cemeteries to find men about his age. Then he’d lift their identities. This couple? They may not even have any kids. Who knows?”
Taylor screwed up her face. “Rosalind stole the identity of these people to use on a fake birth certificate? That’s ballsy.”
“It’s a theory.”
Caroline nodded. “We’ve seen this before.”
“Then where did the baby come from?” Taylor asked.
“Move over, kids,” Mitch said, rising from his chair and smacking his hands together. “Make room for Mr. and Mrs. Joshua Hamilton, a couple of rich assholes looking for a spanking new white baby from a good bloodline. Even if it means doing a black market adoption.”
Taylor snap, snap, snapped her fingers. “That could be it.” She pointed at Matt. “She did say the baby came from good stock.”
“Yep. She could also be lying about that. If it’s on the black market, the adopting couple wouldn’t file a request with the state to unseal records so they can prove the bloodline. They’d have to take old Ros’s word for it. And, for insurance, she gives them this bogus birth certificate with the biological parents’ names and makes up a story about their good bloodlines.”
“Then,” Taylor added, “if the adopting couple searches for the biological parents all they’ll find is two people with the same names that are dead. No real way to prove anything. They can’t go to the authorities. What would they say? Gee, Mr. FBI agent, we did a black market baby adoption and just discovered the original birth certificate is fake. They’re not going to turn Rosalind in. Doing so means they go to prison right along with her.”
Grey held up his hands. “Everyone take a breath. Let’s get all these theories into a report. Then we send Mitch and Caroline in.”
“And maybe,” Taylor said, “Rosalind will bite and we can figure out where the hell she’s getting her babies and if Baby Jarvis was one of them.”
Chapter Seventeen
Taylor’s stomach rumbled. Dinnertime had long since passed and she was starving. She folded down the shiny silver wrapper of a burger and handed it to Matt. “How are we playing this?” she asked. “Good cop-bad cop?”
“Did you really just ask that?” He took the burger, giving her a chastising glance.
“Hey, I’ve always wanted to say that.” She unwrapped the second burger from the bag and her eyes nearly rolled up in her head when she sank her teeth into it. “Man, oh man. How do you find all of these delicious places to grab food?”
He snickered, already halfway through his. “Beat cops know all the good places. And no, we’re not playing good cop-bad cop.”
“Oh, come on.” She batted her eyes at him. “I’ve always wanted to be the bad cop.”
“You watch too much Law & Order. First, is a drive-by.” He turned a corner. “If the guy is home, I’ll handle approaching him. You’ll sit in the car.”
“Oh, hell no. I’m coming in with you. If he’s not home, are you doing another B&E? I don’t think that’s wise.”
“I’m not breaking in, just surveilling his place. I want to know what we’re up against. And although it totally turns me on that you’re willing to accompany me in my life of crime, you are not going anywhere near him. He could be a killer.”
“He could be the guy who jumped me in the parking garage, too,” she said around a mouthful of frie
s. “And broke into my condo. I owe him a swift kick to the nuts.”
“You shot him, Taylor.” Matt balled up his wrapper and tossed it in the back. His grin was pure evil. “Isn’t that enough?”
“Hell no.” She matched his evil grin and pointed a couple of fries in his direction. “I’ve got plans for him.”
Matt snatched the fries from her and shoved them in his mouth. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
The truck wasn’t at the curb when they arrived at the townhouse. Matt parked down the block under a large oak tree while Taylor polished off her burger and fries.
Pulling out his phone, Matt reviewed the info Teeg had sent on their suspect. “Dwayne Glaw, age 41. A captain in the US Army. Served overseas on multiple tours from 2008-2012.” His voice trailed off as he scrolled and read. “Wait a minute. Now this is interesting.”
Taylor leaned over to squint at the screen. “What is it?”
“The last year of his tour in Afghanistan, he was a task force flight surgeon.”
“He’s a doctor?”
“Board certified in osteopathic medicine. Looks like he worked for Walter Reed before joining the army.”
“Why would he leave a lucrative job as a doctor to join the army?”
Matt was silent as he continued reading and, eventually, Taylor nudged him. “Matt? What is it?”
“Teeg says the file from his time at the hospital is incomplete, but it looks like he had some complaints issued against him for medical negligence.”
“Malpractice?”
“Maybe that’s why he joined the army.”
“So he knows his way around the body with a scalpel. Maybe enough to perform a C-section.”
“Or kill someone.”
“And,”—Taylor held up a finger—“to take care of a bullet wound to his shoulder.”
They exchanged a look. Headlights cut across the windshield, nearly blinding Taylor. “That’s him,” she said, sitting up straight and pointing at the silver truck pulling up in front of Glaw’s townhouse.
Missing Justice (The Justice Team Book 7) Page 21
