Absolution: The Hunter Mercenary Series (Book Two)

by Morgan Kelley

  Honestly, he didn’t want to risk getting killed. He had a kid at home now, and Peony needed a parent. The last time he went into Purgatory, the people frequenting it weren’t exactly happy to see him.

  “Well, Stella will help you. My sweet Stella isn’t sashaying her sexy self into that cesspool.”

  “Wow, talk about alliteration,” Elizabeth stated.

  “What?” Zayn asked.

  She laughed when he didn’t get it.

  “Alliteration is when you use the same letter to emphasize…,” Stella began. Then she realized he was laughing. Oh, he’d gotten it.

  He’d been yanking Elizabeth’s chain.

  Ethan cut to the chase.

  “We need you to get Storm, debrief her, use what she knows before she went down, and handle the Rosemary situation. Find Danforth because I’m going to bet he’s connected to this. There’s no way he’s not involved in this. I don’t think his sister, who should be dead, suddenly decided to make a buck off her brother,” Ethan stated.

  The men tended to agree, but Stella was shocked, and it was clearly written on her face.

  “You think he was involved?” Stella asked. “Really? My father?”

  “Are you shocked?” Elizabeth countered.

  She thought about it.

  Considering the man’s past…

  “No. He tried to kill my mother, and then led her right to Zayn and myself. I don’t trust him. That’s sad, but my father is definitely one of the bad guys. If he’s the reason my sister was taken…”

  Elizabeth got it.

  “You aren’t your father, and you can’t pay for the sins of him,” she stated. Only, Elizabeth wasn’t looking at Stella. She was looking at Rogue. “Just my fortune cookie for the day,” she stated. “Take it for what it is—advice.”

  Oh, they got it.

  That was Rogue’s biggest demon, and it was chasing the man down.

  “Is that all?” he asked testily.

  “Yeah, find Storm, find Rosemary, and cut off the sex ring. That’s your job. In the process, you’ll likely find Tasunke lurking around,” she said, referring to the man’s father. “He needs to be handled too.”

  “How do you know other than the GPS?” Rogue asked, really hoping his sperm donor wasn’t involved in trafficking too. That really made him sick.

  Steal some art, it’s all good.

  Sell someone’s child or woman into a sex ring?

  NO.

  JUST NO.

  She was amused by his question, but she wasn’t giving him anything else. The Hunters had all of the FBI intel, and help, they were going to get.

  “Call it a hunch.”

  With that, she was up and holding Ethan’s hand. They had a life to get back to, and these hunters didn’t need her help. The less she and Ethan knew, the better.

  People had gone missing after the last case. There were no people to prosecute for the crimes against Stella, Mercedes, and Maia.

  As far as she was concerned, she didn’t want to know.

  At all.

  “Peace out, Boy Scouts,” she said, saluting Dakota at the door before slipping her hand in the deputy director’s back pocket.

  Behind them, Sungila followed, not even bothering to look back.

  When they were gone, Dakota sighed. It looked like their lives just got more difficult.

  “Well, that was enlightening,” Dakota stated.

  “I don’t like her,” Rogue offered. “She rubs me the wrong way.”

  “Said every person who crossed her path,” Sarah stated. “I hated her at the beginning, but she isn’t so bad once you get to know her.”

  Yeah, they doubted that.

  The woman was a bitch.

  “Well, let’s do some planning. I want to extract Storm St. Clair as soon as we can,” he stated.

  Sarah didn’t bring up Purgatory again. If she did, she was sure Dakota would lose his mind. She’d let him have this one and let him run it.

  For now.

  “Do you think she’s alive?” Stella asked. “I was only taken for a month, and they didn’t rape me. Do you think she survived all of this?”

  Dakota didn’t know.

  It was hard to even comprehend it.

  “We have no choice but to assume she’s alive. Based on that, we’ll go in and get her.”

  It was the right thing to do.

  Since Zayn had protested the most, he thought he’d make amends for sounding like a douchebag. He didn’t want his wife to think he didn’t want to save an innocent woman.

  He was just tied up in knots still over his sister’s death.

  “I’ll go in,” Zayn offered. “I’m the stealthiest one here. Do I get to pick my partner?” he asked.

  Stella beamed and raised her hand.

  He actually laughed.

  “Yeah, no way, sweet Stella. I choose Dakota. I want confirmation that this woman will be Storm. He’s the only one familiar with her, and I’m not letting my woman head into some sex freak’s den. NO WAY.”

  Stella pouted.

  “And here I have my sparkly gun too,” she said, pulling it. All of the men hit the ground out of habit whenever she held a gun. Just last week, she shot a wall when her finger was on the trigger.

  No one was taking any chances.

  “Oh, please. Aren’t we being a tad bit dramatic?” she asked.

  Sarah laughed.

  The men were scared shitless. Who would have thought a tiny woman could make them fear a gun?

  It was amusing.

  “You can get up. I put the gun away.”

  Then, and only then, did they.

  Dakota went back to planning the next part of the plan.

  “Okay, now that Quick Draw is not armed, I think that we’re going to have to head to Purgatory. We can dig around there about Rogue’s father and anything else we can find.”

  “Who is going?” Rogue asked.

  “The ladies can handle it, and you’re going to escort them. You can’t hide from Purgatory forever. Zayn and I will work on Storm’s extraction. That’s my final answer.”

  Well, that went over like a ton of bricks. Zayn looked like he was about to have a stroke.

  “Uh, didn’t I just say Stella wasn’t going anywhere near that place?” Zayn asked.

  She stared up at him with those vibrant blue eyes and actually batted her eyelashes.

  “Pretty please?” she asked.

  Oh, Jesus.

  They were watching the big man do battle with himself. They all knew his brain said don’t do it, but his dick…

  If he wanted to get laid, he was going to have to make his wife happy, and they all knew it.

  “And now I know why men bitch about marriage. It’s not the sex. It’s the power you give them.”

  She laughed.

  “FINE.”

  She looked all kinds of happy that she was being allowed to partake in the actual case. Stella didn’t feel useful, and that sucked. She’d gone from training to be a doctor to sitting on a couch.

  It was hard.

  Zayn continued, “Sarah’s in charge. If it goes to shit, I’m blaming you,” he stated. “We don’t know where her father is, or if he’s going to take a shot at her. After all, she jacked his millions, nearly got him killed by his first wife, and he was shot.”

  Well, when he put it that way…

  Rogue wasn’t so keen on the plan. Sarah wouldn’t be the one who paid for Zayn’s wrath if they dinged up his new wife.

  HE.

  WOULD.

  BE.

  “Stella, can you maybe head to my mother’s house and check on Peony?” Rogue asked. “It will be safer.”

  “NO WAY! I’m going. The warden has given me his approval. I’ll be safe with you guys.”

  Dakota laughed when she called him the warden. That was funny shit. He definitely was one.

  “Okay, well, be safe. We need to get this handled.”

  What they were was crazy.

 
They were about to cut into a sex trafficking ring that was decades old—in hopes of stopping it. That was going to piss quite a few people off, and they didn’t have Charlotte to ask for intel.

  They were flying blind.

  Hopefully, that didn’t get them killed.

  * * * H U N T E R * * *

  Outside

  Four Twenty-Five Chartres Street

  Monday

  Mid-Morning

  Oh, she was curious as hell.

  Cordelia had been trying to talk to Rogue Ravenscroft, the infamous New Orleans playboy, and he was blowing her off every time she called him or showed up at his house.

  All leads pointed at him, and the man was NOT being cooperative when it came to the case of who killed his ex. Word on the street was they had a bad breakup, and Charlotte Shaw had really hated his guts.

  Interesting.

  In fact, it piqued her interest so much that she and her partner had followed him to his mother’s home.

  Then they followed him to this particular mansion just outside of the most famous park in New Orleans.

  Jackson Square was notorious for a few things in New Orleans.

  The coffee.

  The Beignets.

  The high-priced homes.

  Oh, and her favorite part…

  The snitches.

  While the tourists headed there for photographs, the grifters, the con men and women, and the crooks hung out trying to make a buck off of the unsuspecting people running around.

  The gutter punks were running roughshod over the area, and for a few bucks, they’d tell the tale.

  They were sharing how Charlotte Shaw didn’t like Rogue Ravenscroft.

  At all.

  So, they did the best possible thing. They were going to watch the man—as in surveillance—unofficially, of course.

  At that moment, they were adjacent to the park, staring at a black wrought iron gate that Rogue Ravenscroft had entered an hour before.

  “What is he doing?” she asked.

  Boone glanced over at his partner. She was homed in on the man, sure he was involved with the woman’s death. In her mind, the playboy had to be involved.

  She was myopically focused, and that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

  In his defense, he was simply an ex of three years ago. There was nothing outstanding that really made Boone think the man was up to his eyeballs in this. Unfortunately, partners didn’t always agree.

  This was one of those cases.

  Their snitches had given them intel, and she was running with it. They hadn’t broken up on good terms, and Cordelia was sure the man had waited to spring his revenge on the woman.

  Maybe that was why she was wearing body armor. She was afraid of an ex.

  “I don’t know. Want me to go knock, cher?” he asked sarcastically. “Maybe I can ask him personally what he’s doing in that big, beautiful house—other than living in the lap of luxury.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Your sarcasm is duly noted, Boone,” she said, “but since you offered, can you get me some beignets at Café Du Monde, too, while you’re at it?”

  He laughed.

  “No thank you. I’m not going into that tourist trap. I was born here and did it once. It was delicious, but the people crowding it…”

  “Afraid to get your Voodoo beads fondled?”

  He snorted.

  “What is wrong with you?” he asked. “Seriously.”

  Oh, she only wished she knew.

  Still, she kept watching the house. Her gut was screaming, and cop gut was vital.

  “Let’s run it.”

  “What are we going to run?” he asked. “The café? I’m sure the owners own it.”

  She laughed, knowing what he was trying to do. The man was attempting to stop her obsessive focus.

  Cordelia couldn’t blame him. She could be like a dog on a big, meaty bone.

  “No, the house. Maybe it’s one of his. The Ravenscrofts are notorious for their money. I read once that Grace Ravenscroft had so much money her son didn’t have to do jack shit. He went to college for shits and giggles. Can you imagine?” she asked. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

  “Ah, to be idly rich. I’d be home having sex with my wife all day.”

  “And he’s not married.”

  “So?”

  “Playboys irritate me. They think they own women, and they don’t. They are all the same when it comes to the opposite sex. They want to own you.”

  He stared at her.

  Normally, she wasn’t this cynical.

  “Someone is bitchy today, cher. Maybe I should get you that coffee. You need something to take the edge off. You’re gunning for a man we have NO evidence against. It’s like you want to make him guilty because he’s loaded.”

  Maybe she did.

  Maybe he rubbed her the wrong way because she grew up dirt poor and struggling all of her life.

  Maybe…he was right.

  “I need my partner to do a little less talking and more research.”

  He pulled his tablet out of his bag and then handed her a baggie of cookies.

  “Merry is nesting again. Eat up,” Boone said, sharing his goodies with her. She really needed to lighten up. He’d seen cops get obsessed, and it never ended well.

  EVER.

  “Again?” she asked, eyeing up the bag of cookies.

  “Yeah, she rearranged my cabin. I think she’s pregnant, but when I bring it up, she stares at me. I don’t think she can take a test yet, so she’s holding off.”

  “Or she’s just busy with a child,” Cordelia stated.

  That could be it.

  “She is so frazzled with our first child, I don’t want to put her over the edge. She might shave me bald in my sleep.”

  She snorted at the visual.

  “Well, that’s never going to happen to me, partner. I won’t be nesting in this car, that tree, or anyone’s home but my own—alone.”

  He knew why. His partner was a tad bit difficult.

  “You don’t say,” he said, as she popped a cookie in her mouth.

  “That’s delicious. What’s in it?”

  “Some herbs and spell ingredients. I think some chicken blood too,” he said, keeping a straight face. “I only got a peek at the secret recipe.”

  She stared at him.

  “And that’s why people dislike Voodoo. That’s not funny, you freak.”

  He laughed.

  Oddly, he thought it was hysterical. That’s why he waited for her to swallow it before he busted her ass.

  “Merry is growing her own herbs. It’s her way to connect with the spirits.”

  Cordelia was horrified.

  “Pot?” she asked, ready to spit it out. “If I fail a piss test…,” she warned.

  Boone found that all kinds of funny.

  “Herbs as in MINT. That’s a mint chocolate chip cookie. Are you out of your mind? I’m a freaking cop, and she was a Fed. She’s not going to grow pot. A guy can’t get that lucky.”

  She punched him in the arm.

  “You’re an ass, Boone.”

  He couldn’t help himself. She was smiling again, and she seemed calmer. Mission complete.

  “Just run the house.”

  Or not.

  So, he did as she asked. As he sat there, his fingers moving over their laptop, he was searching for a title.

  Anything.

  But it was weird.

  “What?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.

  “It’s not registered to anyone. How is that possible? The house has a blank deed. That would mean NO ONE owns it. Someone has to own it. It’s gorgeous, and clearly, he’s not squatting there.”

  That was weird.

  “That’s not possible. If the house is owned, the name will be on it. You can’t wipe a deed. If a corporation owns it, that will be on it. There is ALWAYS a paper trail.”

  He was aware.

  Boone kept digging. />
  He liked figuring things out, and this mystery called to him. If there was an answer, he’d locate it.

  As he worked, she elbowed him.

  “Uh, the party is breaking up. We have Mr. Playboy leaving the mansion with two women. One sexy redhead and one raven-haired woman and look how sweet…he’s got a double date. Why am I not surprised?”

  He glanced up.

  “What?”

  “Their walking arm in arm. It looks like the rumors about the playboy’s appetite are true. Someone likes more than one woman at a time.”

  Boone watched them head down the street.

  “We should follow them.”

  Oh, she was aware.

  They were DEFINITELY following them.

  Cordelia started up the engine and waited until they rounded a corner three blocks away. Then they followed slowly down the street, in the direction the threesome had been heading. In their detective ride, they should be invisible.

  As they drove past them, Boone picked a parking spot a block ahead of them, hoping they headed that way.

  Then they waited.

  The threesome walked by, having a private conversation. Boone leaned his seat back and watched them pass. They kept walking until they went past the car, down the street, and to a building that looked like a house.

  Only, it had an open sign in the window.

  Interesting.

  “Why does a house have a sign?” asked Cordelia. “That wouldn’t happen to be some illegal business in a residential area, now would it?” she asked, rubbing her hands together.

  That might get them in the door.

  “Well, that’s a damn good question. I’m not sure I have an answer for that,” Boone admitted.

  Then he saw someone he knew heading toward the building. It was one of his confidential informants from when he was working a beat years ago.

  He whistled.

  The man jogged over.

  “Yo, what’s up?” he asked, leaning into the window.

  Hopefully, it looked more like a drug buy than an informant helping out the cops.

  “I need info.”

  “I need money.”

  Boone slipped a bunch of tens from his wallet. He passed them off to the man with no teeth. Someone liked the meth. Boone was willing to bet that it was a drug house, and that piqued his curiosity even more.

  What was a playboy doing heading there?