Revealing

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Revealing Page 12

by Calle J. Brookes


  “Scared me for a while, too. Does anyone know how Melody is doing?”

  Al and Cody stopped their teasing. Al sat on Paige’s other side. Cody pulled the chair up to the bed. With the exception of Carrie still two floors down, these were her best friends. They may not have known each other for long—she’d only met Cody, Kelly, and Payton a year ago—but they were close. And they loved each other, didn’t they?

  And Payton was her family. Her actual, legal definition of family, even. That mattered so damned much. Tears streamed from her eyes as what that meant hit her fully. She wasn’t alone, was she?

  “Oh, no. Don’t start doing that…” Al hugged her tight. “Don’t. I don’t think any of us can handle that tonight.”

  “I love you. All of you, and I want you to know that.”

  “Honey, we do.” Cody took both Paige’s hands in hers. “We don’t know exactly what’s going on. But that doesn’t matter. We’re here for you because you need us. No matter what.”

  “I have something to tell you.”

  “Then tell. We promise to listen,” Al said.

  “You know about what happened to Carrie fifteen months ago. You know that we lived on the streets for a while.” Paige looked at the one person who probably knew the most about her past. Her sister-in-law laced her fingers through Paige’s.

  “We know,” Al said. “But that doesn’t matter to us. We’re just glad we have you here with us now.”

  “I was eleven when I was attacked by a foster parent. He did things I’ll never talk about, but it was enough to make me run away. I’d been in foster care since I was three.” She looked at Cody and Al. “My mother sold me and Luc to feed her drug habit. He got me away from her, and the men who bought me, and turned us in to social services. But that’s just a part of it, really. We were separated after that. When I was eleven, I ran away and I lived on the streets. I stole to eat, I got really good at breaking and entering, and at disappearing. At pretending to be other people. When I was fifteen, almost sixteen, I found Carrie. She had been on the streets a week or so, and hadn’t eaten in that entire time. We stuck together after that. Forever. Someone tried to kill her tonight, and they hurt Melody instead.”

  “That’s kind of what we thought was going on,” Cody said. “That’s why we’re here, and Seth and Sin are upstairs with Carrie and Seb. You’re not alone, Paige. Not in any of this. You’ve got us. And…I’ve got my gun. And I think Al has one, too. We’ve got your back.”

  “I don’t know who did this, or why. But I’m going to find out. I’m not that girl I was anymore. And I never will be again.”

  “You know who that girl was?” Payton asked. “That girl is one who did what she had to, one who built herself a future, a life, and a family. One who helped Carrie—a girl with the cards stacked seriously against her—to do the same. You should be proud of that girl and the woman she became. If not, think of that little baby born tonight who will only be privileged to know you as her family. Don’t forget that. Don’t keep short-changing yourself. Your brother does the same, and it drives me crazy.”

  “I…”

  “Payton is right. You have nothing to be ashamed of. So…now we need to decide what we are going to do next. How we’re going to find this bastard before he hurts anyone else,” Al said, hugging her. “What’s your prevailing theory and how can we move forward? I’ll text Seth, have him bring down one of Carrie’s laptops. We know she has at least one with her. We’ll get started. I saw the photo; you were seriously skinny back then. I think you may even have real breasts now—at least compared to back then.”

  “We can’t all be…big-busted Barbie dolls. Some men are more discerning.” She echoed the phrase Al’s brother had said. Had he meant it?

  Was he one of those men? Or did he prefer women like Cody, or even Carrie, with their fuller chests and less awkward butts?

  And why on earth did that matter to her?

  Chapter 27

  There was still a light on in the den, the room Mal had been using as his primary home office since becoming a married man. They had a big house, but with Mal’s family, Al and Seth, and Mick all living there, it was going to eventually get too crowded. His brother already had a daughter, and a son was coming soon. The room Mick was using as an office had once been part of the attic.

  He headed toward his brother’s light. Mal looked up when Mick knocked. “Hey. How are Paige, Carrie, and Detective Beck?”

  “Paige has one hell of a headache. Al’s babysitting her tonight. Carrie is resting quietly from what I heard. Seth and Sin are staying with her. Detective Beck is stable. They upgraded her a few hours ago.”

  “That’s good. What the hell happened tonight, Mick?”

  Mick slipped his coat off and tossed it toward the brown leather loveseat under the window. “I’m not sure. I think it’s the past coming back to haunt her.”

  “Poor kid. Hasn’t she had enough knocks lately?”

  “Yeah. That’s a way to put it. I hated seeing her that vulnerable.”

  “Careful. I had the same thoughts almost a year ago.” Mal studied him through narrowed eyes. Mick fought the urge to glare at his brother. “Then again, maybe you shouldn’t be careful. Maybe you should…”

  “Whatever you’re thinking, forget it.” He wouldn’t think of her that way. Wouldn’t let himself remember how he’d felt when she’d brushed her lips against his cheek. Wouldn’t remember how he’d wanted to wrap his arms around her and give her a real kiss. He wouldn’t imagine how her eyes would widen and darken, how her lips would part. How she would taste. He wouldn’t think of that. There were other issues he had to deal with besides one maddeningly stubborn, suddenly very vulnerable woman. “We need to find the guy gunning for her—or Carrie Lorcan. And fast. That’s what’s important.”

  His brother didn’t say anything for the longest time. “Keep telling yourself that. I remember feeling that way, until Jules was in harm’s way. Now look at me. A beautiful wife, a beautiful daughter, and a baby on the way. I hit the jackpot.”

  “Mal, move past it, now. I can’t—won’t—feel that way about a woman. Especially one like her.”

  “And just what is she like? Don’t forget I’ve known her longer than you have. And I see her for the absolutely wonderful woman she is.” Mal smiled softly. “I once considered asking her out, but decided we were meant to be friends more than anything.”

  Mick definitely didn’t like that idea at all. “Wouldn’t have worked. You two are way too different. And she…” He paused for a moment. “She has deeper self-confidence issues than I suspected.”

  Mal nodded. “I’ve noticed. It’s not surprising, considering what she went through.”

  “How much do you know?”

  “Just what she’s let slip and what was made known when Carrie Lorcan was targeted fifteen months ago. And what she profiles as.”

  “And what is that?” He didn’t like the thought of his brother studying her like she was one of his damned profiles—or a victim. She deserved more consideration than that, by a long shot. “You profile everyone you work with?”

  His brother’s surprise was evident in his words. “Yes. It’s an instinct now. Does that surprise you?”

  “No. Tell me what you think she profiles as.”

  “An adult victim of child abuse has difficulty trusting others, has a higher rate of anxiety, and guilt. There are other common behaviors, but she doesn’t seem to exhibit them. She needs a family like ours, and I’ve caught her looking at our parents with a longing I don’t think she realizes she possesses. But she also feels like she is on the outside. Probably how she felt as a very young foster child. I don’t know how old she was when she ran from the system.”

  “Eleven. She was assaulted.”

  “She probably longed for what we had, Mickey. Sometimes I forget how blessed we were—are. And then something happens to remind me.” Mal looked at him for a long moment. “I want you to promise me something.”

>   Mick tensed. “What?”

  “If something ever happens to me—you and I both know the risks of what we do—promise me you’ll ensure my family stays safe. And make sure they know how much I love them.”

  “Done.” There was no hesitation on Mick’s part. “But you’ll be around when this kid is a grandfather, I’m sure.”

  “I hope. I’ll be forty before the kid is even in preschool. I’m not going to be stupid, or let myself be blind to the possibilities. I don’t want Ruthie ending up going through what Paige did. Not that I can see that ever happening with our family, but I’d feel better just hearing it tonight.”

  “You’re worried, aren’t you?”

  “We were lucky tonight. What if Melody Beck had died? What if Paige had been hit? Or what if Al had been with her? Or Jules? We never know. We just never know.”

  Mara’s face flashed into his mind, and before he could censor himself the words slipped free. “I loved a woman. Four years ago. She was young and beautiful and so much like Paige it aches to even look at her. They don’t look anything alike, except for the eyes. Maybe the smile. But the fire, the passion, even the love for everything. The weakness…no. Not weakness, vulnerability. There’s a vulnerability there. Lack of self-confidence, maybe. But it’s still there. Mara…Mara was just like that.”

  “You loved her?”

  “I thought I did. Thought I could, if we’d had the time together. We were only together a few months before she was killed.”

  “Killed, not died?”

  “Yes. She was a media liaison with my unit when we first met. She quit a few weeks later to work for a D.C. paper. We ran into each other a night or two later. It grew from there. Then she started working on a story. I knew it was one she needed to avoid. Organized crime, Mal. And she was woefully unequipped to handle it. She ticked off the wrong person. And they killed her for it.”

  “I’m sorry. Did they catch the guys responsible?”

  “Yes. Two months ago. It took them a while to build the RICO case. I was able to provide some serious evidence against them. They’ll probably call me when it comes to trial. But I don’t know when that will be.”

  “Ok.”

  “I’ll need you to do something for me. I told you there was a traitor in PAVAD. I want you to take a look at the notes I’ve pulled together. If needed, I’m asking you to find him. To finish what I’ve started.” Mick hesitated, then decided on complete honesty. “I’ll be a target, Mal. At least for the duration of the trial. However long that will be. My name is supposed to be kept out of the grand jury proceedings, but I will have to testify.”

  “Precautions will be taken, of course?”

  “A screen, from what I understand. And total sequester.”

  “Damn. What about current cases?”

  “I was going to dial Paige in completely. And probably Al and Seth. You and Sebastian are going to be too busy for a while.”

  “That’s for sure. I snuck in for a peek at little Madeline Rose Lorcan. She is absolutely beautiful. No surprise, considering who her parents are. But still…” His brother smiled the besotted smile that he always had when he talked about his soon-to-be born son. Hell, Mal even used the same expression when he talked about the daughter he and Jules had adopted. Ruthie was just as adored as this new baby would be.

  “I don’t want to miss my nephew’s birthday. But if I do, know that he’ll be beautiful. Just because of who his parents are. At least…who his mother is.”

  “She is beautiful, isn’t she? Stubborn, difficult, hard-headed, obstinate, and absolutely beautiful. Inside and out. Just like Paige. I’m sorry about Mara, Mick. I can’t imagine anything worse. I wish you would have told me years ago. I could have done something, been there beside you. You didn’t have to do it alone.”

  “I was too raw to share her with anyone.”

  “That’s the way Jules was.” Mal’s wife had been widowed when her husband was killed in a car accident. Mick knew that her grief had been a real obstacle between them for a while when they were falling for one another. “Time is supposed to help.”

  “It does.”

  “Mick…what are you going to do about Paige now?”

  Mick sensed his brother’s question was loaded with more meaning than he wanted to consider. “I don’t know. See what she’s like in the morning, after she’s had time to rest. She hit her head too damned hard, Mal. She gave me some names of people who might have it in for her—or Carrie. We still don’t know who the true target was. Something about the photograph is nagging at me, but I don’t know what. I’m going to head upstairs, get some sleep. Try to forget what happened.”

  “How close were you?”

  “I was about twenty feet behind them when it happened. Paige and Melody walked in ahead of me. They had just reached the sidewalk. Paige slammed into the wall. She tried to take Melody down with her. It probably saved Melody’s life.”

  “Paige is quick when the situation warrants it.” Mal looked at him again when Mick stood. “I know you think she’s a risk, vulnerable like your Mara was. But she’s been trained to deal with some of the worst things the world can throw at her. She’s seen things that would make an average woman go insane. But she handles herself. She’s stronger than she looks.”

  “Is she? I don’t know about that.”

  “All I am saying is that if there are feelings for her, don’t be afraid to act on them. Time wasted is a greater loss than anything. I didn’t realize how I felt for Jules until it was almost too late. If I had just realized that the reason I was so drawn to her was because I was supposed to be with her, I would have had another six months with her. Something to consider.”

  “You think I want a romantic relationship with Paige?” If he’d heard such a thing even the night before, he would have pushed it aside—or laughed it off. But something in him had shifted when she’d kissed him.

  Made him think, for just a minute, that there was something there.

  But that was just adrenaline from the events of the night that had made him think that.

  “All I am saying is that there are some deeply passionate feelings running between the two of you. That kind of emotion isn’t casual. And I think a part of you knows that. Tell me something? Have you felt that strongly about any other woman since your Mara? Don’t respond. Just think about that for a while.” Mal stood, as well. “I’m going to check on my daughter, then slip into bed beside my beautiful wife. I want to hold her tonight. I think that’s something I need tonight, more than most. Good night, brother. I know I don’t say it often, but I do love your ugly face.”

  “We both know I’m the pretty one. You’re passable. Al’s the ugly one.”

  “Yeah. You get to be the one to tell her that. Good night.”

  He waited until his brother was out of the room ahead of him, then Mick slipped into the kitchen. Al—the best cook of the lot of them, though Mick was more than adequate—always made sure to leave something homemade in the kitchen. And he was hungry.

  He didn’t want to head up to his room yet. He’d just lay there in his bed and think of things he wasn’t ready to face. He was man enough to admit that. Sometimes his mind raced faster than his heart could keep pace. Sometimes he just thought too damned much.

  Tonight was going to be one of those nights. Of that he had no doubt. He tossed his suit coat over a chair and a piece of paper fluttered out to the floor below. The photocopy of that damned picture. He picked it up with the hand not holding the oatmeal raisin cookies he’d found in a container on the counter.

  He studied her face. Tried to imagine what she was feeling that day. She had almost a death grip on Carrie’s shoulder. The man—her precious Leo—was holding her just as tightly. And he wasn’t looking at the camera. Mick couldn’t get a good look at the guy’s face. But he wanted to. He needed to see the kind of man—and he used the term loosely—that had captured her love. Her first.

  Mick wanted to knock his fist through the guy’
s face. This Leo should have protected her better.

  Jules’ laptop was on the kitchen hutch where she always kept it. Mick knew it was linked directly to the database that serviced all of PAVAD, and his division, as well. He grabbed the laptop and logged on with the password Jules had shared with him before.

  The first thing he did was type in Leo Butelli and Texas to the arrest record database that Carrie Lorcan had been instrumental in developing. Three results popped up on the screen.

  The guy’s mug shot had him glaring even more. Butelli was a tough looking thug. Why had he captured Paige’s attention? He read over the list of offenses, seeing nothing more than petty misdemeanors, and two theft arrests. No convictions.

  There were also no reports of arrests within the last twelve years. His next search was the Texas vehicle records.

  When that yielded nothing recent, he went federal. Butelli was out there somewhere. Or he was dead.

  Where ever the son-of-a-bitch was, Mick would find him. He wouldn’t stop until he had.

  Chapter 28

  MICK was up at dawn, as was his normal habit. He ran around the block a few times to clear his head before taking a shower and heading toward the hospital. He’d check on Beck’s status, then he’d grab Paige and they’d meet Jules in autopsy just as his sister-in-law was getting settled in. Jules never got to the building before nine-thirty; Mick was usually at his desk by eight.

  He knocked on the door to the room and when no one answered he pushed it open and entered quietly. The bed was empty. “Daviess? Where the hell are you?”

  “In here.”

  The small restroom door was opened slightly. He could see the long expanse of her back in the mirror. She was brushing her hair, while wearing nothing more substantial than a fluorescent pink sports bra and low slung black jeans.

  His tongue dried up like a sponge in the desert. She had beautiful skin, smooth and creamy from what he could see. He wanted to touch, and fisted his hands to fight the urge. Even with the five feet separating him from the bathroom door, she was too damned close for his comfort.

 

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