“Maybe you should let me get a wheelchair.”
“I’m just bruised and a little rattled, Al. I don’t need a chair.” Paige hated being weak in front of others, especially those she worked with. Being weak and defenseless made a person vulnerable in the very worst ways.
She’d made a promise to herself the day she’d entered college, entered the world of normal so many years ago, that she would never put herself in that type of position again. As a child she hadn’t had a choice, ever, in what happened to her—not really—but as a capable adult, she had a world full of choices now. She’d chosen a real life. She couldn’t forget that.
“What does he need?” Mick. Damn, how was she supposed to deal with him now?
“You’ll have to ask him.”
“How is Carrie?” She looked over at her sister. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Less than an hour. She’s still not dilating.”
“Is that normal, do you think?”
“I don’t have a clue. They did mention about twenty minutes ago the possibility of a cesarean if the baby falls into distress. Carrie’s holding herself together very well. Jules came in and talked with her a bit.”
Carrie was resting against her husband’s chest. Sebastian’s hair was sticking out all over his head, and his skin was paler than Paige had ever seen. But Carrie was sleeping, that was ok, wasn’t it? “Is she asleep?”
“For now. The contractions have slowed.” Al pulled Paige to her feet; she kept her hands up until Paige managed to steady herself.
“I can walk.” Thankfully it was less than thirty feet to the door. “Mick just outside?”
“Waiting in the hall. Big baby was afraid to come in here.”
She smiled at that, around the two stitches holding her bottom lip together. She’d busted it on the concrete when she’d fallen. Al stayed close while Paige made the short trek to the door. They slipped into the hallway where Al’s brothers and Sebastian’s brothers waited. They were beautiful looking men, every one of them.
Even Mick.
He was also bigger than the others, and he drew her attention immediately. “Mick?”
“We need to talk.”
But they didn’t get the chance. Doctors rushed past them all, and Mick pulled Paige out of the way.
“What’s happening?” Paige asked, trying to go back to her sister immediately.
Al stopped her. A doctor paused to talk to them. “We’re going to prep her for a cesarean. The baby’s heart rate is dropping. You’ll all need to return to the lobby. We’ll let you know.”
Chapter 23
DNA was the next best thing to gold in Cam’s world. And well worth the time it took him to drive from Dallas to Austin and the crime lab located there, after Miranda had called him back. He’d cashed out his plane ticket and driven to Austin instead of flying to St Louis. He’d take a later flight, after he got the information he wanted from the DNA tech.
Cam had had a lot to think about on the three hour drive. Old memories, old questions.
Dark eyes in a young woman’s face. Miranda had emailed him a DNA report on Ariella Avery.
And that had brought him a new name to focus on. One he’d known before.
P.J. Deveraux. Young, beautiful, vulnerable. She’d been sixteen when he’d collared her while working on a missing persons case.
Innocent and guileless while she fed him a pack of a hundred lies.
Yeah, he and that girl had a small history.
P.J. Deveraux had been a Daviess.
It was the eyes. Simon’s eyes, too. No wonder the kid had looked familiar. P.J. Deveraux had stuck with Cam. She’d been linked to a man he’d suspected of having information about his sister Lia’s disappearance. But she hadn’t stuck around for him to prove it.
The age progressed photos of Denise Daviess’ missing kids matched the one he had of that girl from twelve years ago. The one he’d kept in his file by his bed for twelve damned years. He’d looked at her photo every night for twelve years.
She was his last link to Miles Buckham-Butelli.
The man he knew had killed his sister.
P.J. Deveraux. He’d never thought to see her again.
As soon as he had confirmation, they’d dance again. And this time she was not getting away from him.
It took a promise of dinner and drinks, but Miranda got him what he needed.
Ariella Avery, Simon Daviess, and P.J. Deveraux shared enough alleles in common to be considered half siblings on their mother’s side.
“That’s odd…” Miranda said, pushing her glasses up her adorable nose. Dinner and drinks wouldn’t be a hardship at all. He’d had a soft spot for her for a while. “Look here.”
“What have you got?”
“Whomever wore that jacket twelve years ago…”
“P.J. Deveraux.” Anger burned his gut at what that girl had done to him twelve years ago. He’d fallen for her story hook, line, and sinker. And then she’d booked out of town.
Taking his leads into his sister’s disappearance with her.
He’d been looking for her ever since.
“What about her?”
“DNA matches another sample.”
“Open case?”
“Not exactly. A reference sample. She’s one of yours.” She turned her computer monitor around toward Cam. “FBI. St. Louis, PAVAD.”
He read the monitor there, studied the photo next to the data. Dark eyes and hair. Enough like Ariella Avery to be her twin.
Or her older sister.
Paige Jane Daviess, Supervisory Special Agent with the PAVAD directorate of the FBI.
Complex Crimes Unit.
Best damned FBI unit in the country. PAVAD. Again. Things just got interesting.
Chapter 24
PAIGE held the photo with fingers that trembled. She’d certainly seen a copy of it before. Carrie had one that she’d kept tucked safe in one of the old textbooks from so long ago.
Paige had thrown her copy away the day they’d graduated from college. She’d wanted no reminders of what they had come from, what they had almost been.
And they had come far; the baby she’d just held and rocked for the first time was proof of that.
She wouldn’t let the past threaten that future. She looked up at the three men surrounding her. The words came easily this time, no hesitation. She wouldn’t hide her past anymore. “I was sixteen, Carrie was fifteen. We were part of a street family. We were thieves, panhandlers, and whatever else we needed to be. Carrie and I were only a part of that group for a short time. We almost got collared, and we were afraid we’d be split up if we were caught and sent through the system. So we ran.”
“The other people in the photo? What do you know about them?” Mick was right by her side, again.
“Most were younger than Carrie. There were a few who were over twenty-one, I think. They were the ones who pawned what we’d bring in, they were the ones who made the rules.”
“Who’s the guy beside you?” Mick asked.
“Leo. His name was Leo. He had been on the streets for ten years before we met him. He saved my life, that’s how we got involved with them in the first place.”
“Where is he now?” Mal asked. Having him there calmed her, and she appreciated his unjudging presence.
“I don’t have a clue. Carrie and I ran, Mick. He gave us some money, not much, but enough to get to Chicago without having to hitch. That was the last I ever saw of him, or the others.” And leaving Leo had been one of the most heart wrenching things she’d ever done. But she’d not wanted her or Carrie to end up dead. So that meant leaving Leo and all he was connected to that day.
She had cared about him, probably more than any man since. She pulled her composure around herself and looked at Mick and his brother. “It was twelve years ago, I had been dragged in to the FBI by some guy looking for a runaway. He scared me—I didn’t know where Carrie was, or who she was with. I didn’t know if the cops had her or not
. So…as soon as the agent left the room I slipped out the window and down the side of the building. I found Carrie, told Leo what had happened and that he might want to take the others and lie low for a while. He gave us what money he had, and we said good-bye. Carrie and I went toward Chicago with a few stops along the way. When we were old enough, we took the GED and enrolled in a community college. By that point she’d sold her software design to Lucas Technologies, and we had enough to have a decent life. I haven’t thought of Leo and the others since.”
***
Mick saw the pride on her face, and the wounded dignity, and he felt a rush of admiration for what she had done. So vulnerable back then, yet look at her now. Beautiful. “Why would someone target Carrie and scratch out that guy’s face?”
“I don’t know. Why her and not me? The shooter said he was told to follow me, right? Why? I did my best to keep Carrie out of anything that was illegal. She was mostly our eyes, and she would circumvent some security when needed. She’d always had a computer with her and she could do anything with it. That’s what she did; all I would let her do. Anyone with a problem with us should have targeted me instead.”
Mick understood the underlying message. She’d deliberately put herself in front of the girl she’d considered her sister. “You sure she didn’t stumble into anything? Something you might not have known about?”
“I’m positive.”
And in that moment, Mick knew the truth—Paige was lying to them all for some reason. Why?
“So why?”
“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”
“Not right now. Right now you and I are going to head down to the cafeteria. I’m hungry. You’re going to sit where I can see you.” Where he could think. Decide what to do with her.
She tried to protest. He held up a hand. “We have other things to talk about, remember? Thirteen dead girls.”
It was a flimsy excuse and they both knew it. Her team could take the next moves in their case while she was incapacitated. But he was going to force her to tell him the truth. One way or another. “In the chair, now.”
“Mick…” Mal started. Mick glared at him until his brother got the message. “Paige, just humor him. He’s exceedingly stubborn at times. We’re not sure where he gets the tendency from.”
“Sure you’re not. It’s a family trait,” Paige said. But she gave in and Mick bit back his relief. But he half suspected her capitulation was because of the need to sit down rather than to give him what he wanted. Whatever; he’d take what he could get.
He wheeled her out of the small waiting room and toward the elevators. Once inside he hit the close door button and held up a hand to keep Djorn and Jones from following. They’d attached themselves to Paige’s heels, and he understood it. But he needed time alone with her. He was armed; he’d keep her safe. “Take the next one. I got her covered.”
“Yes, sir.”
Neither of them said anything until the metal doors closed in front of them. It was Paige that broke the silence. “You don’t have to be rude.”
“I’m not. I’m being expedient.”
“Is that what they call it in your world?”
Mick wanted to snap, he was feeling just that tense. But…she was so pale, and in that moment he realized something he hadn’t before. She snapped at him whenever she was feeling vulnerable.
And that thought reminded him of what she’d been through, and made him feel like a total ass. Had him opening up more than he otherwise normally would. “I…I don’t always say the right things in the right way. It was something I struggled with as a child; hell, I still have issues with it today. Made elementary school horrible.”
Mick turned the wheelchair to face him more fully. “You lied back there. I know you did. Something happened years ago to make you run. More than what you said. What was it?”
***
His blue eyes were about to burn a hole right through her. She felt like a fly stuck in a trap, wiggling and buzzing until she finally gave up. “Mick…I don’t want…”
“Someone shot at you, remember? It was only by luck that you and Detective Beck are still breathing. If it has something to do with that photo shouldn’t you do something about it? There were other people in that photo—what if he goes after them? Or already has? Truth. All of it.”
“Mick…”
“Now. Unless you want to do it in front of the rest of PAVAD? Have them knowing the intimate details of your life? I think we can both agree that you don’t.”
“Don’t threaten me.” She couldn’t handle this now, not with him, not the memories. Not the pain in her head.
But did she really have much choice? No. Better the one devil in front of her…
“I’m waiting.”
“No, you’re demanding. Pushing. Like you always do.”
“Just give me the answers I need. Then you can go back to Carrie and the baby, or even go to sleep, for all I care.”
“So kind and solicitous you are…Your parents must be so proud.”
“Yeah, my mother tried. But apparently she failed with me. Isn’t that what you’ve said before? Tell me what I need to know. Who was the guy in the picture to you? The one touching you.”
She closed her eyes a moment. He wasn’t going to give up, was he? The elevator door opened and he wheeled her out. Toward the cafeteria. She didn’t say anything until they were at a table and he’d shoved some applesauce under her nose, of all things. Applesauce and a peanut butter cookie, with a command to eat.
She ate.
“Talk.” He pointed to a far table, and Paige looked over to see Djorn and Jones settling their big male bodies into the plastic chairs. They nodded at her and waved. “Just us. Tell me whatever you have…I’ll keep it as private as possible.”
“Why?” Why would he do that for her? He was IA, he was supposed to expose every detail, leave a person feeling raw and used. It was part of his job.
“Because we all have things we want to keep inside. That hurt to expose them.”
At that moment Paige got it. Got him. Something had hurt him. Big, almost indestructible Mick, who played by the rules and damned everyone who didn’t. What could have possibly penetrated his armor deeply enough to hurt him?
It was eye-opening for her. And it had her feeling more vulnerable than she ever wanted to admit. “Do you have the photo?”
“I had Jules photocopy it in the nurse’s station. She has a friend on duty tonight. The original is with Dr. Dennis. Mariana. Too many damned Dennises around.”
“Same could be said for Brockmans.”
He snorted. “Guess so.” He pulled a sheet of paper out of his breast pocket. He still wore his suit, and his shoulders looked ridiculously wide beneath the navy material. He unfolded it and there the photo was. Paige looked at it again, trying to think objectively.
Eight people other than her—Leo and Ceci were on the far right. Leo had his arm around Paige’s shoulders and she was leaning into his chest. Carrie was next to her. The other five people in the photo were young girls who’d been part of their group. Heather, Amy, Megan, Amber…and she thought the last one was Elizabeth.
She could barely remember their names; what did that say about her?
“The photo was taken by Leo’s older brother, Miles. At least, I think they were brothers. They always called each other that, but look at me and Carrie? We’re sisters, but we never told anyone that, until Carrie was attacked fifteen months ago.”
“What was that guy to you?”
She looked at Mick. “He was the first guy I slept with—willingly. He showed me what a healthy sexual relationship could be.”
“I see. Were you abused, Paige?”
She’d never imagined the first person in PAVAD she’d ever admit that to would be Mick. Reality had a way of slapping you upside the head when you least expected it. And Paige’s skull was still ringing. In more ways than one. “That’s the right word for it. I won’t go into any more details than
that. Just know that I was in the foster care system from the time I was three until the time I ran away just after my eleventh birthday, and after my foster father decided I was old enough to be a woman at eleven. He wasn’t the first to try something.”
“I’m sorry. No kid should go through that. Go on. Tell me about this guy. How old was he? Too damned old for a teenager.”
“I may have only been sixteen, Mick, but I wasn’t a child then. We were fifteen miles from the Oklahoma border, where the age of consent was sixteen. I wasn’t a kid. Hadn’t been for a long time.”
“Maybe not. How old was he? What was his last name?”
“I never really knew for sure. Either of those things. I do think he was in his early twenties. He’d been on the streets for ten years by then. And he was good at what he did. He picked the jobs we did, planned it all out himself. And he kept us safe…until…”
“Until?” He covered her hand with his. The hand not in the stupid air cast. “Go on, Paige.”
“We worked easy jobs, never taking anything with too much risk. Carrie would tap into any security cameras to check the schedules of store employees, that type of thing. She stayed back at the building Leo squatted in. It had running water and electricity. We thought we’d hit the big time having electricity.”
“How did you meet this Leo?”
Paige’s eyes closed. It was one of the darkest times in her life, and dredging it up when she already felt vulnerable wasn’t helping. “It was such a long time ago…”
“But it’s resurfaced. So it’s now that it needs to be dealt with.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. Forced herself to detach. She looked into his eyes, noticing how the Brockman eyes looked bluer in his face than his sister or brother’s. They were just a shade richer, weren’t they? Al’s and Mal’s eyes were identical, but his…his were uniquely Mick’s. Why hadn’t she ever noticed that before? “We were in an alley. We’d had some trouble finding food, and we were hungry. And that made me more careless than I should have been.” She pushed the sleeve of her right arm up to show him the first of the scars. “There was a man in the alley that we didn’t see. I almost ran right into him. He grabbed me, realized I was female and thought it was his lucky day. When I wouldn’t cooperate, he got violent.”
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