He shifted behind her. “I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa. It’s too drafty in here.”
She did her best to hold on to the last vestiges of sleep.
He sighed. “You’re going to make me do this, aren’t you?”
Logan scooped her up easily, holding her on his lap.
The man would not carry her to her apartment, would he?
He would. If he wanted to. She had no doubt of that.
Kelsey needn’t have worried. Logan turned the lights off, even using her feet for one switch. She might have laughed a little. Who wouldn’t have? He politely didn’t acknowledge her, instead playing into her rouse that she was asleep, and instead carried her into his bedroom.
Inwardly, Kelsey had to wonder what witch had mandated no sex. What a pain.
SUNDAY. LOGAN’S APARTMENT. Washington, DC.
Logan’s right arm was completely asleep, and the numbness was moving into his shoulder. He figured that wasn’t really a problem until it got to his left. Though by then he’d likely have to extract himself to take a piss.
When was the last time he’d slept this late?
Ever since he was a kid, he’d been expected to get up early. His mother had believed in starting the day with mindful meditation, and that happened before the bakery opened for the day. To Logan as a kid, that had translated as a lot of sitting on a worn rug on the patio facing the still-sleeping sun while his stomach growled. Later, he’d turned that time into long runs, conditioning his body for sports. Once he’d been activated and overseas, that early morning time was often the only quiet he got. Now it was just habit.
He turned his head and looked down at Kelsey.
They were both still dressed from last night. Well, mostly. After fifteen or so minutes in bed, Logan had been just on the cusp of falling asleep when Kelsey had sat up, twisted her arms around behind her and then sent her bra flying off onto the floor somewhere.
Now she lay in the crook of his arm, her head on his bicep, her back to his front.
It seemed impossible for so much life and personality to fit in such a small package. Looking at her like this, he wanted nothing more than to roll her up in bubble wrap and protect her.
She’d probably stab him for that thought, so he’d keep it to himself.
Her physical ability was never going to change his nature. So long as they were on the same page, he thought this could work.
Shit.
He was not going to be able to continue lying here like this.
“Kelsey?” he whispered.
She didn’t budge.
He gently lifted his arm and her head.
Still no movement.
He slid one of the pillows under her head and did his best to roll her onto it instead of him.
She groaned in her sleep and curled in on herself, forming a tight ball.
Kelsey was a lot like a kitten. Cute. Adorable. And utterly deadly.
Logan covered his mouth to keep from laughing. She would hate that comparison, but after yesterday and her knife display, it was far more accurate than anything else.
He ducked into the bathroom and relieved himself, washed up, brushed his teeth and ran a comb through his almost shoulder-length hair. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d decided to grow it out, it had just felt like the time was right. Like his life was changing, and this was a physical manifestation of that change.
His stomach growled.
It had to be creeping towards nine or so.
For him, this was late.
Logan padded out of the bathroom.
Kelsey still hadn’t moved.
He smiled and headed for the kitchen. If he started cooking breakfast, would she wake-up then?
Logan grabbed his phone off the charger, then did a double-take at the number of messages.
“Shit,” he muttered.
He went straight for the email from Zora. That went out last evening, while he’d been on the sofa and firmly not interested in the outside world.
Logan skimmed the message.
Then he re-read it.
Briefing.
Today.
At his apartment.
Nine AM.
Logan glanced at the clock.
Eight fifty-four.
“Fuck. Kelsey?” Logan strode into the bedroom. “Kelsey, you have to get up right now.”
“No,” she groaned.
“There’s a briefing, here in my apartment, in six minutes.”
She rolled over and blinked at him. “What?”
He held up his phone. “Zora reached out about it last night. We never saw it.”
“Shit.” Kelsey sat bolt upright, eyes wide. “Can I just skip this one?”
He snorted. “No. But if you want to explain to the guys why you slept here, be my guest.”
Logan’s words gave him pause. He hadn’t planned on saying anything to anyone about what was happening between him and Kelsey. At least not until there was more there. Another part of him wanted to stake his claim. Let the other guys know. Not because he thought they would try anything. It was a purely male desire.
She kept staring at him. “I guess it’s probably not a good idea to include that information in a briefing. Harper would never pay attention to anything else.”
Kelsey had a point.
She threw back the blankets as someone knocked on the front door.
Fuck.
He didn’t have coffee going. Dishes were still out from last night.
Logan took two steps to the bed and straightened the blankets.
“What are you doing?” Kelsey stood, bra in hand.
“Two different sides were turned down.”
She arched a brow. “Hiding me?”
“Following your lead.”
She paused, a frown curving her mouth. “I’m not awake enough for this moment. Can we table the should-we-shouldn’t-we-tell-them talk until after whatever emergency is happening gets sorted out?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Whoever was at the door knocked louder.
“Shit,” Kelsey muttered, snatched her bra off the ground and hustled around the bed and into the bathroom.
Logan glanced around, but there was nothing else to be done.
He shoved his feet into house shoes and stalked to the door.
When had his apartment become Zora’s meeting space?
It was better this way.
He peered through the peephole.
Great. The gang was all here.
Logan opened the door.
Harper was first through the door. He smacked Logan’s right shoulder on his way by. “Fuck, were you taking a dump or something, TL?”
Jamie shuffled in, following Harper, looking about as awake as Logan felt.
Evan paused on the threshold. “You feeling okay?”
His wife Felecia peered over Evan’s shoulders. “He probably needs coffee.”
“That I do,” Logan replied.
Surprisingly, Tucker brought up the rear with no Zora behind him.
Logan had never asked, and Tucker had never offered more information about their connection. Boy, what Logan wouldn’t give for some insight into that history.
“Hey, shortstop is already here,” Harper called out.
Logan closed and locked the front door.
“I’m not awake enough for this,” Kelsey announced.
“Any idea why you’re all in my house on a Sunday morning?” Logan scooted around the others and into the kitchen, where he proceeded to get the coffee going.
Jamie shrugged and sat on one of the stools. “You saw the emails.”
“I saw exactly one before you assholes knocked on my door. Someone care to catch me up?” Logan asked.
“My guess?” Tucker eased down into a chair at the table. “I think we’re meeting to discuss how to move forward with the senator. He agreed to talk to us today with his lawyer present.”
“Where’s Butters being held?” Logan asked.
/>
“He’s here.” Tucker thumbed over his shoulder.
What side of the bed had Tucker woken up on that had him this chatty? Most days he barely said a dozen words.
Logan hit the start button on the machine. “Did anyone interview him?”
Silence met that question.
Kelsey hopped up on the empty stool next to Jamie. “No doubt, Dixon is going to be our best source. But we can’t trust him.”
“Agreed,” Logan muttered.
Another knock at the door brought Diha and Cat. The ladies hadn’t finished taking off their coats by the time Zora arrived.
“Who interviewed Butters?” he asked her before she’d even shrugged off her coat.
“Wimbush and Jenkins. Joon observed. Why?” Zora draped her jacket over the back of the chair at the head of the table with her back to the wall.
Tucker was at her left hand.
Interesting.
Logan crossed his arms over his chest. “Just something he said. He called Dixon a pedophile. Did he ever say why?”
Zora inclined her head. “Yes, at length. The short version is that Butters claims Dixon has deals with several cartels in South America. When young women, girls and children are sent back to their country of origin, Dixon notifies his contacts and they then move in to pick up those targets upon their arrival. It’s an elaborate scheme, if it’s real at all. Proving it will be difficult. Honestly, it’s outside the scope of our investigation.”
“Actually, no,” Kelsey said. She turned to face Zora. “We need to talk to the lobbyists Dixon saw this last week. I’ve been wondering why these people? They were all so incredibly random. But what if these lobbyists are the go-betweens? What if they’re somehow involved?”
“Are you getting at something?” Zora asked.
“Why would Skilton target Dixon? Hm?” Kelsey shrugged. “I don’t know the full story, but Skilton’s got beef with him over something illegal, more than likely. So, why not start with Butter’s claims?”
Logan blinked at her a few times.
He hadn’t made that connection, but it was completely logical.
Zora sighed. “I don’t have the bandwidth to devote time on that. Can you follow up with the lobbyists? And see if Brown is awake yet and can talk?”
Kelsey’s eyes widened. “Sure, I guess.”
“You’re all going to have to operate in a new capacity. With Wimbush, Jenkins, Joon and Baker in observation, the list of those I can trust has been slashed.” Zora pulled out a chair and sat. She still had every hair in place, but there was something different about her. Something worried. “We were able to identify the man who attacked you, Logan. He’s another that came into the country using an alias created by Obran. That leaves eight others. I want to capture them. Each of them holds a piece to the puzzle.”
“How are we going to do that?” Logan would much rather team up with Kelsey, but he doubted that would work. Out of all of them, she was really the only one who could make arrests.
“I’m not sure yet,” Zora admitted. “So long as news about the attack on the senator is kept quiet, maybe we can capture them? Maybe we can play them off each other? I don’t know yet how to best use this to our advantage.”
Logan paused.
Zora didn’t know?
He wasn’t used to her using such uncertain language. She was always direct, authoritative. Losing those agents must have really shaken her confidence.
What would Logan do if Tucker turned on him? Or any of the other guys?
“Kelsey can come work in the lab with me,” Diha said. “I can assist her in research between my other work. Also, Miles is here if you want someone else.”
Zora sighed and glanced at the other woman. “I had wondered about bringing Miles in.”
“He’ll say yes.”
Harper tugged on Diha’s braid. “Probably because he wants to spend more time with you.”
Diha batted his hand away and tried to hide her smile.
Miles Green was a good guy. And a rock solid agent. He’d be an asset to the inner circle.
“Okay.” Zora blew out a breath. “Can I have a cup of coffee? And Diha, would you call Miles? Let’s divide and conquer, people.”
Logan grabbed a mug and began filling it.
Evan edged in next to him, holding two empty mugs. “If you found out about the meeting from an email six minutes before we got here, how early did Kelsey get here?”
Logan kept his face stoic, but he met Evan’s gaze.
Logan had been caught, but not outed.
“What business is that of yours?” he asked.
Evan merely grinned back at him and said nothing. At least, not yet.
14.
Sunday. Task Force Headquarters. Washington, DC.
Kelsey a deep breath. She stared at the clear surface of the desk she’d set up at to make her phone calls. While she had her own office space with Baruti and Samuel, she hadn’t wanted to be that far away from the girls. The building wasn’t empty, but there were many fewer people there on the weekend.
She leaned forward and began dialing despite her rolling stomach.
A simple Google search and some translation had been more than enough to send her down a dark path.
She prayed she was wrong.
The line began to ring.
“Hola?” a woman’s voice said on the other end of the line.
“Hello, is this Ms. Layla Silva Perez?”
“This is she,” the same woman said. She had a melodic voice and a relaxed way of speaking that Kelsey found soothing.
“Hi, Ms. Perez. First, I’m sorry to be calling so early on a weekend. My name is Kelsey Young, and I work for the FBI. This last summer you wrote an article about a human trafficking ring. I was hoping to talk to you about it.”
“How do I know you are who you say you are?” Layla Perez asked.
“Well, you can always call the FBI field offices there in Venezuela or here in the States. It’ll take a while seeing as its Sunday for someone to get back to you.”
“I won’t reveal my sources to you.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to over an unsecured line.” Though eventually Kelsey would need them. In order to track Dixon’s actions down, she’d have to talk to the people he was doing business with.
Layla was quiet for a moment before she spoke again. “What would you like to know?”
“Obviously, I can’t tell you everything. In your article, you covered the entire process of how citizens returned to your country that fit certain parameters were kidnapped before they even left the airport. I want to understand what happens before then.”
“You want to know the American side of the problem?” Layla asked.
“Yes. I want to connect the dots and make it stop.”
“Whatever changes you make, unless you allow these people to stay, they’re going to become victims when they return here.”
Kelsey hung her head. “I know. The truth is, I’m one person chasing a lead. If I can put this together, if I can figure out how your story connects with my pieces, I might be able to do something.”
“Something is better than nothing. I’ll tell you what I can.”
Layla began at what she viewed as the beginning of the problem from her side. She’d coordinated her story with others from Haiti, Nicaragua, Guatemala, Mexico, Brazil. The list went on.
“The problem is that these women and kids, they come into the country already marked. I don’t know how or who. That’s where I ran into a wall.” Layla’s voice was tortured. She truly cared about these people.
Kelsey swallowed. She had a pretty good idea.
Dixon no doubt had someone working for him inside immigration. Those dirty officers earmarked people and sent them back in groups that would be easy to identify.
Layla talked at length about the inner workings of the cartels, how they operated and moved people. It was obvious to Kelsey that Layla’s real goal was to aim light on the cartels continued
terrorism against citizens.
“I’ve done an awful lot of talking,” Layla said some time later. “What can you tell me?”
“Not much right now, but I’m hoping for better news in a few days.” It was killing Kelsey that she couldn’t share details. Things that might actually help Layla. But in the end, Kelsey couldn’t lose sight of the fact that Layla was a journalist. She was one person who couldn’t change things, only shed light on it.
Kelsey would find her a lead. Something outside the scope of their own investigation that Layla could use.
“You’ve been a big help,” Kelsey said. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll be in contact later in the week. I hope to be able to share then.”
“I look forward to hearing from you. I’ll be honest, the article wasn’t taken very seriously. It’s nice to talk to someone who cares.”
“I care. I’m not the only one. More people are going to when they hear about this.”
And sometimes that caring was Kelsey’s biggest weakness.
She ended the call and flipped pages in her notebook to the list of lobbyists.
The dots were connecting in her head. She just had to find proof that would stick to Dixon.
Now she knew what he was involved with.
God, she wished she didn’t.
Kelsey had seen horrible things. It was the nature of the job. But the worst, by far, were the atrocities done to children.
Dixon could die for all she cared. She didn’t have concrete connections, yet. But she’d get there.
“Hey, you.” Felecia flopped down in the chair across from her. “That phone call sounded intense.”
“I’m going to have nightmares.” Kelsey massaged her temples.
Felecia stared back at her, compassion written into every line on her face. “I’m sorry.”
“What’s up?”
“Diha suggested I offer you my services. Anything I can help with?” Felecia leaned her elbows on the desk.
“Actually, yeah. So, I just got done talking with this Venezuelan journalist. She did a big expose about the cartel trafficking citizens straight out of the airport who were just deported from here. She didn’t come out and say it in the article, but she and I both agree that someone on the US side has to be setting it all up.”
“And you think its Dixon.”
Intercepted Risk (Aegis Group Task Force Book 5) Page 19
