“Oooh, I’m really liking this.”
“Then after the evening is over, I take you back to your place and kiss you goodnight, even though what I really want is to take you to bed where I can show you first hand all the inappropriate thoughts I had about what I wanted to do to your body all night.”
“I really like the sound of this date, except can we change one part?”
“What’s that?”
“Instead of leaving me with only a kiss at the door, perhaps we could just go straight inside. Because I’m certain I will want to know every little thing you were thinking.”
“You know, Jemma, I really like your plan.” He smiled and kissed her again, only this time his hand slid down her thigh to the place where she ached for him.
23
Caid was beginning to lose his patience. How could they still not have found anything concrete against this bastard? From the outside, it seemed as if Liam Charmont was clean as a whistle. No traffic tickets on record, nothing. It seemed he had even taken a page out of Matthews’s playbook and donated to quite a few charities.
He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. His head was throbbing, his stomach growling, and his back felt stiff as a board. He desperately wanted nothing more than to go back to the cabin and crawl into bed with Jemma. He reminded himself that if he had his way, there would be plenty of nights after this was over to do that. Now he needed to focus on making sure Jemma wasn’t hunted like a dog by the man who sired her.
“King.” He looked up to see a member of his team, Erin Rogers, standing in his doorway.
“What is it?”
“We might have something.”
Caid got to his feet and followed Rogers down the hall. They walked into the briefing room where Pax and Omars waited.
“What did you find?”
Pax handed him a file. “Liam Charmont’s late wife. She was buried down pretty deep, probably because he didn’t want anyone finding her.”
Caid opened the file and looked down at the smiling woman. It surprised him how much she looked like Jemma. They were nearly an exact match except for Jemma’s eyes. Those were handed to her from Charmont.
“Did we find her?”
“No, but this could be enough to pay him a visit.” Omars stood with his arms crossed against the door. “A ‘we received an anonymous tip that Madeline Charmont was missing’.”
“He will not take FBI knocking on his door very well. We need more than a picture in a file,” Pax instructed.
Caid set the file down. “We need a body.”
“You think she’s dead?” Pax questioned.
“Jemma said she is.”
“Could be that she’s in hiding,” Omars offered.
Caid shook his head. “Jemma watched her die. That’s not something you forget. Especially when you’re a nine-year-old little girl.”
“She was young, King; it might be that she only believed she saw her die.” Pax crossed her arms.
“She watched her father shoot her mother, saw her bleeding to death on the floor, and then screamed as her father dragged her away from the body.” It took everything in him to not growl it. “I’m fairly certain she would have known had her mother not been dead.”
“If you are too close to this, King, I can remove you from the case,” Pax warned, and Caid shot her an angry glare.
“I am fine.”
“Omars, look into the mother. Let’s see if we can track her down or at least confirm her death.”
“You got it.” Omars lifted the file and headed out of the room.
“King, make sure you’re looking at this objectively. If you aren’t, you will miss something.”
“Yeah.” He stepped into the hall and grabbed his jacket from his office. Caid’s eyes glanced into Pax’s empty office as he passed. He hadn’t had an opportunity to search it yet. The woman seemed to never sleep, and every time he thought he might be able to come in early or stay late to catch it vacant, she always seemed to pop up.
How the hell was he supposed to rule her out as the mole if he couldn’t even get in to check things out? His hand tightened into a fist. If she was the fucking mole, he was gonna lose it. She had been brought in after the corruption had supposedly been cleaned out. What if she had been crooked this entire time? Since day one? How would he not have seen it? Apparently, he hadn’t learned his lesson to pick up on the signs of a crooked cop.
Caid was on his way to his car when he caught a subtle movement out of the corner of his eye. He acted as if he hadn’t seen it and continued walking. The shadow disappeared and then reappeared behind him, so he pulled his gun and spun on his stalker.
“Wait!” The man threw his hands up.
“Who the hell are you?”
“I can help you, Agent King.” Caid studied the man. He was about the same size and general build, and wore a hood that appeared to cover black, curly hair that was going grey at the temples. His face was clean shaven, but there was a thick scar that ran down one cheek. Caid would have guessed him to be in his mid- to late fifties.
“What do you mean, you can help me?”
“I have information on The Runner.”
Caid’s back straightened. “What information?”
“Maybe you can put the gun down?”
“Unlikely.”
The man shrugged, but headed toward the nearest car hood. He set a file down and opened it, then stepped away.
“What is this?” Caid asked as he took a step closer and peered into the file. Photographs of Jemma’s mother stared back at him. She held two infants in her arms and the haunted look in her eyes was one Caid knew he wouldn’t soon forget.
He moved the image aside to look at the other information in the file. Names, dates, locations, and itemized lists were sorted neatly in the file. “What are these?” He holstered his gun and lifted the file to get a better look at its contents.
“Information on The Runner’s shipments leading up to the death of Madeline Charmont.”
“Jemma’s mother.”
“Yes.”
“How did you get these?”
“She gave them to me.”
“How did you know her?”
“I delivered her babies.”
Caid stared at him. “You delivered Madeline Charmont’s children.”
The man nodded. “I was in nursing school, and my parents called me panicking about a woman in labor. I, of course, told them to call nine-one-one, but they refused, saying it would be dangerous. I drove over, and Linny was in the office of my parents’ diner in very late-stage labor. Once the babies were delivered, she urged my parents to take the baby boy. She said that he would die if they didn’t. They told her everything would be fine, that they could keep her safe. She could just leave the man she was so afraid of, but she wouldn’t hear it. She honestly believed her marriage could be saved by taking the little girl back with her.”
“But not the boy.”
The man shook his head. “She told us of their father. Of the horrible things he had done and how if he discovered she had birthed a son, that son would either be forced into the same business or her husband would have him killed if he believed the boy to be an unworthy successor.” He swallowed hard. “She gave me that file and asked me to keep it secret until she needed it. You are the first person who I’ve told about it.”
“Not your parents?”
“No, it’s been in my safety deposit box this entire time.” He stared at her picture. “You have to understand, Agent King, it was the hardest thing I had ever done, but I believed every word out of her mouth. After that, I helped her to the hospital, where I documented she had given birth to a baby girl. A single child, all while I secreted the other away at my parents’ house. About a week went by when I finally took him to the hospital. My parents were able to legally adopt him, and Linny visited every chance she could, until she just stopped coming.”
“She was killed.”
The
man nodded. “I assumed as much. Do you know anything about the little girl?”
“She’s fine. Managed to escape.”
“Good. I hope this helps. I know it’s nearly fifteen years too late, but dammit I hope it helps.”
“Why did you wait so long?”
“Fear and hope, I suppose. I always hoped Linny would come looking for it.”
“What made you change your mind now?”
“Lance. He called our parents asking if they knew anything. They don’t. Just that Lance’s biological father is a monster. He doesn’t know everything I just told you. We kept it hidden because we didn’t want it to affect him in any way.”
“Can I tell him now?”
The man shrugged. “I suppose now’s as good a time as any. He told me he met her, his sister, and that she looks just like their mother. I’m glad they found each other.”
“Me too. Thank you for this. I can already tell you it’s going to help significantly.”
“Take care of her,” the man said as Caid turned to leave. “Please don’t let what happened to her mother happen to her as well.”
Caid faced the man again and saw the tears building in the corner of his brown eyes.
“I won’t let that asshole get his hands on her.”
“Thank you.” The man turned to leave, and Caid watched him retreat back into the shadows before resuming the walk to his own car.
He stopped at a payphone before heading out to the cabin. He hadn’t talked to his sister since that day in his office, and with Thanksgiving happening the next day, he assumed it was time to bury the hatchet.
“Hello?” She answered on the second ring, and Caid could hear his nephew in the background.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Oh.” She was silent for a moment. “You coming tomorrow? Mom and Dad are back, and she’s been asking.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Can I bring anything?”
“No, you’re good.”
“Listen, I--”
“Caid, you and I are not going to agree on this, period, end of story. I think she’s bad for you, but if you feel the need to find out for yourself, then so be it. Who am I to stand in your way?”
“Um, thanks,” he replied sarcastically. She was definitely right on that last part.
“Yeah, we’ll see you at four.” The line went dead, and Caid slammed the phone back on the receiver.
Damn, she could be a royal pain in his ass sometimes. He hadn’t missed the undertones in the word you. She was trying to tell him Jemma wasn’t welcome without actually saying it. Caid lifted the receiver again and called his mother’s number.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Ma.”
“Caid! It’s so good to hear from you!”
“How was the cruise?”
“It was amazing! Just the thing your father and I needed. Mikey, it’s Caid!”
“Hey, boy, how ya doing?” Mikey’s voice sounded on the line, and Caid laughed. He could picture his parents standing in the kitchen over his mother’s cell phone while it was on speaker.
“I’m good, Dad, I was just wondering if I might bring some friends tomorrow?”
“Of course! You know we always have room!” his mother said happily.
“Here’s the thing though.” He proceeded to tell his parents all about his current predicament without giving them a ton of details. She would know what Sophia did, that Jemma was the daughter of a horrible man he was trying to bring down, and that she was helping him because she wanted to see the man who sired her behind bars.
He also let her know just how Sophia felt. It may have been childish, but if Sophia was going to do it, then so could he. Some things never change, he thought to himself.
“That’s just terrible! That poor girl, and finding out she has a brother too!”
“Are you still okay if I bring them?”
“Of course, Caid, you don’t even have to ask. We do appreciate you filling us in, though.”
“Stay safe, son,” his father chimed in.
“I am, Dad, promise. See you guys tomorrow.”
“Love you.”
“Love you guys too.” Caid hung up the phone, much gentler this time around, and climbed back into his car with a smile on his face. Take that, Sophia. He was bringing Jemma home to meet his mom, and he hoped she loved it just as much as he did.
24
“Caid, are you sure about this?” Jemma asked nervously as she braided her hair back.
“Absolutely. It’s going to be fun.”
“I just don’t know if this is such a good idea. I don’t want to bring any trouble to you or your family.” She stood, and he took in her form, which was currently wrapped in a mahogany dress that fell to just above her knees where black boots took over. Damn, she was a sight to be seen.
“Trust me, Jemma.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed a light kiss to her red lips. “It’s going to be perfect.”
She smiled at him and then wiped the lipstick off his mouth with her finger. “All right then, shall we?”
“We shall.” Caid buttoned the front of his suit and stepped out to see Lance, suit clad as well, packing up two pies. “I told you that you didn’t need to bring anything.”
“Who shows up to Thanksgiving with nothing?”
“I’ve been doing just fine for the last twenty-nine years.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you have, and the first eighteen don’t count.” He picked up the pies, and they headed out to the car.
“How’d you learn to cook?” Jemma asked him as Caid pulled out of the drive.
“My mom taught me. Adoptive mom that is,” he added. “We used to cook together, and then I’d go out shooting with my dad. Perfect balance.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“It was. Still is, as it’s our own Thanksgiving tradition.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to spend it with them?”
“Nah, they understand. I’ll see them later tonight.”
“I just feel bad for pulling you away from your family.”
“You’re my family now, too, Jemma.”
She blushed slightly, and Caid reached over to grab her hand. Over the last week, they had grown closer than ever, and she couldn’t imagine what her life had been like before he came into it. She found herself constantly wondering how she had survived so many nights alone without the warmth of his body next to hers.
“So, my family can be a little much,” Caid offered. “My mom is very hands-on and is absolutely a hugger, while my father is the hand-shaker and twenty-questions guy. My sister is great, but she’s eight months pregnant with her second kid and never lets anyone forget it.”
“When we get back, maybe we can work on getting your KD up.”
Jemma laughed and shot Lance a taunting glare. He had been messing with her about her kill to death ratio on Call of Duty. They had played nearly every day over the last week, and she still hadn’t improved. “Be careful. One day I’ll be better than you, and we’ll have to work on your KD.”
“Ha! We’ll just have to see about that,” Lance said with a laugh.
“I’m just going to have to show you both up,” Caid chimed in.
They drove the rest of the way arguing about who was better at video games. The normalcy of it had Jemma smiling to herself. It was strange how some things just fit even when everything else around you was falling apart.
When Caid finally turned into the drive of a quaint two-story colonial, the comfort faded away, and Jemma felt her stomach lurch. How was she supposed to act? How was she going to face an entire functioning family when not once in her life she had ever been around one?
“Come on, Jems, it’s gonna be fine,” Lance whispered and stepped from the car.
“Easy for you to say. You weren’t raised by a monster.”
“You’re going to do just fine, BB.” Caid used her nickname, and it brought a smile to Jemma’s face.
“BB?” Lance asked.<
br />
“Badass Barbie.”
Lance let out a laugh that would have woken the neighbors had they been sleeping. “It’s fitting.” He grinned, and they walked up the steps. Before they reached the top, the door swung open and an older woman with dark curls and a beaming smile bee-lined for Caid.
“Caid! Look at you!” she said as she hugged and then looked him up and down. “Have you been eating right?”
“Yes, Mom.” He laughed and turned to Jemma and Lance. “Mom, this is Jemma Saige and Lance Zarbey. Jemma, Lance, this is Tori, my mom.”
Tori stepped to Jemma and Lance, and took each of their hands. “I am so incredibly glad you two are joining us today. Caid has told me so much about you both.”
“Only good things I hope.” Lance grinned, charming the woman instantly.
“Of course, come on in!” She released them, and Jemma felt the beginnings of an attack.
Caid stayed behind and pulled her in for a hug. “All will be fine, Jemma. You can kick the shit out of me later if you need to, but I promise you everything is going to be amazing today.”
Jemma took a deep breath, and then they released. She felt the edges of the panic subside and followed Caid into the house.
It had the feel of a home, and Jemma very nearly teared up as she looked at the pictures covering the walls, the homemade drawings that had been framed as if they were expensive and renowned art work.
She had never been in a house that felt so comfortable before. Even before her mother was killed and she saw her father for the monster he was, Liam’s house had felt so cold compared to this one. “You have a wonderful home, Mrs. King.”
“Thank you, Jemma, but please just call me Tori.”
Jemma smiled and nodded, and followed them down a small hall into an incredibly loud kitchen. Caid’s father was easily recognizable since Caid was his spitting image. They could have been twins if it weren’t for the lines and grey hair that signified an age difference.
A small toddler ran around everyone’s feet chasing a Pomeranian who looked as if it would much rather be hiding somewhere.
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