Absolution: The Hunter Mercenary Series (Book Two)
Page 17
“Why are you so damn curious?” she countered.
It made him laugh.
This was going absolutely nowhere fast.
“I don’t recall asking a Fed questions and being this confused before,” he admitted.
She didn’t speak.
It was a clear sign that this was HER fact-finding mission, and he was being questioned.
“You’re going to stare at me until I tell you, aren’t you, cher?” he asked.
“Yep.”
Well, here went nothing. If he was lucky, Elizabeth would be magnanimous and give him something in return.
“Okay, we had a death in N’awlins. A woman by the name of Charlotte Shaw was killed. We found it a little hinky, cher, but now it’s a whole lot hinky if it’s kicking up an alert right to you.”
“Drop the investigation.”
WHAT?
He stared at her on the screen.
“You know I need more than that. We are sniffing around someone who came out of that building with a blonde and redhead. Who is Rogue Ravenscroft?” he asked.
She said nothing.
Boone wasn’t done. Part of being good at his job meant pushing when he hit a wall. Elizabeth was a big freaking Fed wall—and he’d get around it if need be.
“He’s an ex of Charlotte Shaw, and we think he’s involved in her murder.”
Still, she said nothing.
“Come on, Elizabeth. I need something. You can’t give me that stony look and expect me to bail on an investigation. You know me better than that.”
She glanced to the side.
“Ethan, I need that murder investigation to go away. Make it happen for me, please?”
“On it,” he said from off camera.
“Woah! Hold up! The FBI is shutting down my investigation?” he asked. “While you might be able to stop me that way, Elizabeth, my partner isn’t going to be so easy. She’s going to start digging like a wild animal in a tunnel cave in. I know her.”
She picked up a file.
“Detective Cordelia Harding, born May fifth. She is tenacious, has a spotless record, and a family that every cop would try to hide. Her father is still incarcerated, and her mother…she’s likely so high and still trying to sell what the good Lord gave her—if she’s not a Jane Doe in a morgue somewhere.”
It was Boone’s turn not to say anything.
His allegiance was being torn in half. He owed the FBI for saving him and his wife. He owed Elizabeth for being there when he almost died. Now he owed his partner his trust.
“Elizabeth, cher, come on!”
“She’s not a problem. She can be handled.”
“Elizabeth, why don’t you just tell me what’s going on and why you don’t want us sniffing around Rogue Ravenscroft? Is he a killer? Is the FBI watching him? Give me something, and I can at least go to my partner and share.”
“You can’t share with her. Period.”
“Why the hell not?” he asked. “What the hell is so big that you can’t let me share intel with a decorated detective?”
She turned her head and said something to her husband that they didn’t catch.
“You have my word,” Boone stated. “I will take it to my grave.”
She didn’t have a choice. If he really thought his partner would keep digging, it wasn’t like she could kill her. That was part of her worries. Zayn would end the cop just to cover his team. She knew him. He was a tad bit psychopathic when it came to being discovered.
Cordelia Harding, on paper, was a good cop, and the world needed more of them.
Her back was to the wall.
“Boone, they work for me. That’s my house.”
He stared at the screen.
There was no way he’d heard her correctly. There had to be a faulty connection.
“What?”
“We own that property, and that’s why it was erased. Our security clearance depends on our safety, and that deed was left blank so no one could track it to us.”
Okay, that he got, but the rest?
Not even close.
She sent a picture to the screen for him to see. It was a picture of Dakota Rakin. It was his official photo from his work file.
“HEY! That’s the dude I saw today with Mr. Ravenscroft. Is he undercover?” he asked, as her face reappeared.
“That’s Dakota Rakin, and six months ago, he was a US Marshal.”
“And that’s how I know him,” he stated. “I was working out of DC for that short time until Merry came back here with me. I saw him at the FBI office. So, he’s a Fed?”
She didn’t know what he was. That’s why this had to be kept as quiet as possible.
“He’s hunting Lottie Tipton, AKA Bonnie.”
His eyes went big, proving once more that everyone in law enforcement knew her.
She was that dangerous.
“Shit!” he muttered.
There was an active APB on his desk with her face on it. She was public enemy number one for the FBI. She was Elizabeth’s ghost.
“Okay, and he’s in our fine city tracking her?”
“Rogue Ravenscroft is his partner of sorts. I have a trio of bad boys doing my dirty work.”
She left it at that.
And he got it.
The FBI was doing things not quite the legal way when they’d run out of options, and that was why the local cops couldn’t be sniffing around.
Now he got it.
“Dakota is stationed out of that house. What you’re thinking is way off base. What you do have correct is Rogue did have a relationship with Charlotte Shaw, but that was years ago. He didn’t kill her. I give you my word.”
“Elizabeth.”
“Boone, cut it loose. Ethan is in the process of getting it pulled. I’m asking you to let it go. Bad things are brewing in New Orleans.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Merry stated. “Is my husband in danger?”
Elizabeth thought about what she could give them.
“Let’s just say that Charlotte Shaw was the gatekeeper to all of the things that cops dislike. She was running guns, drugs, illegal gambling, and we think she was helping a serial sex trafficker.”
Well, shit!
That was going down in his city too?
What the hell?
“Do you recall Storm St. Clair?” Elizabeth asked Merry, pretty sure she would know the woman’s name.
“Yeah, she’s the Fed who went MIA in Vegas, right?” she asked.
“Yeah, she’s been held as a sex slave for a year, and right now, Dakota and his partners are about to rescue her. Tonight.”
Well, this was news to him.
“So you’re running a federal operation under the noses of the local law?” he asked.
“Well, I had some spare time, and it was this or quilting,” she said sarcastically.
He thought about it.
“I want in.”
“BOONE!” Merry stated.
He gave her a kiss and held her hand.
“If you’re going to play these kinds of games, and if it’s as bad as you say it is in New Orleans, I’m down for it. This is my home, and I don’t want gun runners, pimps, and sellers on the streets. I came back here to clean it up. Let me in.”
And there it was.
Elizabeth had her in.
“I actually do need help.”
“Great.”
Well, he wasn’t going to like this…
“Awkward. I wasn’t talking about your help,” she stated, trying not to laugh.
“Whose help do you need then?”
“Your wife.”
He laughed until he realized that Elizabeth was NOT joking. She was focused on Merry.
“The mother of my children?”
“There’s more than one?” she asked, picking up on that immediately.
“Yes.”
“No,” Merry stated. “He thinks there is. It’s this Voodoo dream he had where his sperm…”
She stopped her.
She laughed.
“My wife…,” he began, only to be stopped when Merry covered his mouth.
“If you can clean up the city, so can I. I know you’re not going to pull the gender card, Boone, when the only difference between us is a single chromosome.”
He closed his mouth.
This was dangerous territory, and any sane man, who liked a healthy sex life, knew not to cross into it.
“I’m listening,” Boone stated.
“What do you need from me?” Merry asked.
“They have a book with some scorched pages. Is it possible to clean them up and see what’s beneath the residue?”
“I can chemically remove carbon, but I need a couple of things to do that. If they are burned, you can’t save them. It’s a tricky, time-consuming process.”
She smiled.
“What would you need?”
Merry rattled everything off.
“Ethan, can we get those things to Merry?” she asked.
His answer made her smile. Of course, her husband would make it happen.
“They will be to you by morning.”
“Okay, and where is this book?” she asked, ignoring that Boone was staring at her.
“At that house. They are expecting you to arrive there to work on it. We have to keep this low-key since the FBI can’t be tied to them.”
“We understand, Elizabeth. I’ll work on it there. Boone can babysit our little Native love muffin.”
Uh, no.
He had bad news for his wife.
“Hold up, cher. Boone is NOT letting his wife work while he’s sitting at home. That’s not happening.”
“Well, here’s the deal,” Elizabeth stated. “You’re a cop. Dakota’s partners aren’t. They’re hired guns.”
Oh, yeah, hell, no!
His wife was definitely not heading into a den of hired guns while he played daddy.
NO.
FREAKING.
WAY.
“Mercenaries?” Merry asked, completely enthralled and intrigued.
She didn’t answer.
Not at first.
“We need an answer,” Boone stated.
“Yes, they are. See how that could go wrong?” Elizabeth asked.
Yes, yes, they did.
Only, it didn’t deter Merry.
“I’m in!” she stated. “I need to get my science on.”
Boone sighed.
Well, then he couldn’t say no, now could he?
“I’ll still help. Is Ethan really getting the ax dropped on this case?” he asked.
“Yup.”
“Then I’m going to take some downtime, bullshit my partner, and help. I’m in too.” The mercenaries part was his biggest concern.
Elizabeth needed them to keep one thing in mind while dealing with them.
“You can’t judge them.”
“I won’t. They are doing the job that we, as cops, can’t. I appreciate that in people. I appreciate that in anyone who loves this city.”
Yeah, she hoped this didn’t go wrong.
If it did, it was on her. Zayn was the wild card. One never knew what he’d do. He was, after all, a killer.
“Show up there tomorrow. The gate code is nine-one-one,” she stated.
Merry giggled at the code.
“Callen has a sense of humor. He likes all things ironic. Jackson James brings it out in him.”
They could see that.
“So, if they give you a hard time, have them call me. I’ll clear the way.”
“I can do that.”
“And Boone?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t be a cop. If you go in there and throw your badge around, it’ll only get you one thing?”
“Not their respect?” he asked.
“No, dead. Dakota wouldn’t kill you, but Rogue and Zayn are wild cards. They don’t like cops. The only reason they are helping the FBI is we have things they want. Be Boone. Be Merry. Don’t be ex-FBI or a detective—or they’ll shoot first and ask permission later.”
Well, that wasn’t something he wanted to hear.
At all.
“Well, that sucks.”
She smiled.
“I know. Good luck, and thanks, Merry, for helping us out. Your brain and skills are greatly appreciated.”
She disconnected the call.
“Well, that’s something,” he said, trying to find a way to talk his wife out of this.
Somehow.
“I can’t wait!”
Merry actually bounced.
“I’m going to use my brain again!” she said, kissing her husband. “I’m going to be useful!”
“Gee, tell me how excited you are, cher,” he said, seeing that any attempt to try and talk her out of this was not going to be a possibility.
She was thrilled.
Then again, he got it. For her, it was hard not to be. Boone knew that Merry missed her job at the FBI. She missed being more than a mom. To her, motherhood was awesome, and she was lucky, but she wanted to work.
He went with the truth.
It would set you free.
“I’m worried.”
“I’ll be safe,” she said, without hesitation. “Elizabeth wouldn’t risk me.”
He was aware.
“No, I have faith in my skill to protect my woman,” he said. “The spirits are on my side. I would have seen bad omens in the smoke. I’m worried about my partner.”
She wasn’t surprised.
Boone was loyal to a fault.
“Why?”
“The second she gets yanked, she’s going to do what all good cops do.”
“Dig deeper?”
“Uh huh, and that is going to be dangerous.”
That was an understatement.
It might just get her killed.
* * * H U N T E R * * *
When her partner called, Cordelia was caught a little off guard by the suddenness. When he told her that he was taking time off to be with his wife on a personal matter, she was worried about him.
Of course she asked all kinds of questions. That was how she rolled. Only, Boone was very vague and told her he’d call her later.
Crap.
It looked like she was riding alone on this one.
Well, she could handle it.
In fact, she was fine. At that very moment, she was sitting outside the mansion with the giant gate, wondering what Rogue Ravenscroft was doing. The weather was turning, as it often did on the Gulf this time of the year.
A storm was coming.
A big one.
From where she sat, she could see the lightning off in the distance, and she could feel the cool air coming in. For that time of the year, it got chilly.
Icy at night.
Truthfully, sitting outside the giant mansion didn’t help her somewhat wild imagination. Already, she was drawing up pictures in her head.
Doctor Frankenstein.
A serial killer.
A basement full of dead women.
Yeah, ‘somewhat wild’ might not be the correct words to describe her mental state.
Sadly, they were all focused on the one man.
Her only suspect.
Well, him and the dude he was hanging with today. If she had gotten his name, she could search him too. From everything she’d found on Rogue Ravenscroft, he was on the up and up. He ran a successful investment company—where he did major investments for other rich people.
He graduated from the best Ivy League schools, his mother was his ONLY living relative, and he was a mix of Caucasian and Native American.
What a mix it was.
Whoever stirred up that DNA had done a damn fine job of it too. He had some of the sharp angles of a Native, but the coloring of his mother. His hair was dark and sleek, and his eyes…
Jesus.
They were something.
As s
he stared at his picture on her phone, she couldn’t help but be sucked in by his eyes. There was something…mystical about them.
And she was an idiot for being so fanciful.
Cordelia knew better. He was a suspect, and she was nothing more than a cop. Her job was to find a killer, and her gut was pulling her right toward him.
Thus, why she was stalking his home.
Still, she couldn’t help but check out his ass in those way too expensive dress pants, and she couldn’t help but notice the electricity she felt when she grabbed his arm.
Then he caught her.
Her heart had skipped in her chest as she picked up the scent of his pricey cologne.
Damn him.
Damn him for being hot.
Of course she’d be attracted to a playboy who wouldn’t see her unless she held up her cuffs and threatened jail. That was the story of her life.
Cordy was simple.
She liked it too.
From the look of his home, he was anything but. He was a whole lot of complicated.
She should run for her life.
As she, continually, stared at the picture, it was the loud crash of lightning that scared her shitless.
She actually jumped in her seat at the startling crash that happened off in the distance.
Great.
She was an idiot now too.
As she stared at the house, Cordelia wanted to know.
“Who are you, Mr. Ravenscroft, and what are you keeping secret?”
Yeah, he was a mystery.
One she was going to figure out.
* * * H U N T E R * * *
Inside
Ravenscroft Manor
His office overlooked the city not far away. As he stood there, watching the storm come in, he saw the same car that had been at his mother’s home.
She was out there.
The detective was dogging him, and he hated every second of it.
Why?
He could still smell her hair. When she’d fallen off of the curb, and he’d caught her, that blonde hair gave off such a sweet scent that he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
And he loathed himself for it.
She wanted him, all right.
For a murder.
While he was called a playboy, and people assumed he slept around like some unemployed gigolo, that was the furthest from the truth. He was NOTHING like his father, and he prided himself on that.