by C. A. Szarek
He grimaced and rotated his throbbing arm, but gripped his rifle at the ready. His body spilled into a front room. Bright and welcoming. Set up as a sitting room, but there was a giant TV in one corner and a brick fireplace opposite it. The styling was eclectic, full of antiques, from the Victorian couch to the painting on the wall.
Maybe he could cut parts of Caselli’s body off and burn them in that private fireplace. Make the bastard watch while each finger and toe burned. Then hands, arms and legs. Torture before death could be a good thing.
Muttering to himself about the possibilities, Jeremy continued down an interior hallway. With no hesitation, he kicked open another set of double doors. They were plain and white. Wood shards went flying as they offered no resistance.
“Where are you, Caselli? Come out and face me, you fucker!”
Screams greeted his ears as a naked girl darted out of the huge bed in front of him. She cowered in the corner, her dark hair partially obscuring her face.
Another girl hovered in what had to be the bathroom doorway. Also naked and shaking, a hand covering her mouth. She was a redhead—naturally, evidently. But she made no effort to cover her nudity.
Jeremy averted his gaze. The girls were both young, couldn’t even be eighteen. He scowled.
Fucking sicko.
It wasn’t a secret Caselli liked them young, and had kept females for sex-slaves as well as selling more girls than the FBI even knew about.
He wanted to assure them he’d get them out of here—he meant them no harm—but Jeremy had to deal with the boss first.
The man himself lay back against a large headboard reminiscent of the carved doors to his wing. As if he had no cares in the world.
A huge, chrome, fifty calibre Desert Eagle handgun was trained on Jeremy’s chest.
Raising the AK-47, Jeremy narrowed his eyes. Stepped closer.
Dared Caselli to pull the trigger.
A blood-red sheet was slung low on Caselli’s hips and his chest was bare. Fucker was probably naked, too.
Score another one for me being right about the bedding.
“Hello, Special Agent.” The deep voice was even and calm. Familiar.
The nonchalance made Jeremy’s blood boil. “I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but, well, that’s a fucking lie.”
Caselli chuckled, but his aim didn’t waver. His dark hair was sleep-tousled and his expression was pleasant, a small smile curving his lips. Most women would consider him handsome. Strong jaw and a trim, muscular frame. Charming, too, when he needed to be.
But it didn’t fix the evil asshole’s other traits. Murderer. Rapist. Drug dealer… The list went on.
He was in his forties, but his career had started long ago, following in the footsteps of his father, deep into organised crime.
“Looks like your sweet, sick mother ran out of etiquette lessons for you. I hope your lovely Beth has had better luck with your daughters. I’d hate to have to teach them manners.”
“Fucking leave them out of this. This is between you and me. Just you and me.”
Caselli threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Special Agent. How mistaken you are. When I get done with you, Beth and the girls will be mine. I’ll be sure to remind them of your poor choices.”
Jeremy growled. “I came here to tell you the FBI has a warrant for your arrest. For the murder of Angelo Fiato. I’m sure my unit will be here shortly. Was gonna try to help you get lost. I think I’ll just kill you instead.”
“You killed the men at my gate. I only assume my cousin in the camera room suffered the same fate. Not to mention my bodyguard, Dante. He was my favourite, too.” Caselli’s voice was sharper than it had been, deadly.
One of the girls whimpered, but neither the mobster nor Jeremy spared her a glance.
“I find it hard to believe you came into my home so harshly with pure intentions.” The man narrowed his dark eyes, the big pistol still aimed for a kill-shot.
Harshly? Caselli sure as shit had a way with words. Did he think he was Shakespeare or something?
Jeremy ignored the surprise that rolled over him at Caselli’s wealth of information. Of course the bastard knew. He’d seen him coming somehow. And had let him come.
So much for a real ambush.
Did he know about Downs being on the property as well?
“Fuck you, Caselli.”
Caselli laughed again, his lips twisted in a smirk. “How eloquent, Special Agent.”
“Stewart, drop your weapon.” The order was staunch. Female.
With the AK still trained on his enemy, Jeremy didn’t pause to look over his shoulder at Dawson, or stop to contemplate how the fuck she’d arrived at Caselli’s mansion.
He pulled the trigger and held it down, spraying bullets at the mobster.
White-hot pain exploded in his shoulder. Then his stomach, but he fought to remain upright. His ears rang with the sound of gunshots. More than the AK-47 in his wavering arms. More than the big fifty-cal Caselli had.
Was Dawson firing? Where was Downs?
An anguished yell breached his lips when his knees buckled and Jeremy hit the expensive oriental-looking rug beneath his boots.
His head spun as his cheek smacked the carpet. Vision danced, and his ears pounded as the room echoed.
Pain engulfed his form, flames burning his arms, his chest, even his legs. Numbness was chasing it away, sucking him in like an embrace, and Jeremy blinked.
Was it finally over?
“Stewart!” The dirty FBI agent didn’t respond to her shout.
“Get him, partner. I got Caselli.” Clint rushed to the bed.
The mobster wasn’t dead, if his moan was any indication.
Two naked girls hovered in each other’s arms in what had to be the bathroom doorway. One sobbed while the other held her.
Lee couldn’t concentrate on reassuring them now. “Find a phone and call 9-1-1,” she barked. “Then get some clothes on and get back here. Don’t run off. If you do, you’re looking at jail when I get you.”
Nice. Threatening victims…witnesses now. But she had to.
The redheaded one nodded and they dashed out of the room hand-in-hand. The brunette’s sobs were still audible from the other room.
An expensive-looking and now blood-soaked rug cushioned Lee’s knees when she holstered her Glock and lowered herself beside Jeremy Stewart. She nudged the AK-47 away with her foot. Better not to touch it with bare hands for now.
“Stewart.”
Nothing.
Lee grabbed his shoulder and rolled his body over. Jeremy’s back landed on her bent legs, nestled against her thighs.
She sucked in a breath as she took in the three holes in his chest and one in his collarbone on the right side. He was hit in the leg as well.
“Jeremy,” she whispered his first name. Something she’d never called him until right now.
Her fellow agent’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. His eyes were half-lidded. Brown irises seemed to be fading as she watched.
Lee’s heart skipped a beat. She’d never been close to him, but…
“Stewart, stay with me.” She grabbed the collar of his black leather jacket. Her hands were already covered in deep red stickiness, and his blood had seeped into her jeans below.
A moan fell from his lips and he opened his eyes. “Dawson…” Her last name slipped from his lips with breath he couldn’t afford to lose.
“Don’t speak. Stewart, just stay with me.”
“Cas… Case… Caselli…”
“You don’t worry about that bastard. You got him. Leave the rest to us.” Lee’s voice shook as she held him. The man was dirty. She shouldn’t give a shit about him. But Jeremy Stewart was still her teammate. They’d worked cases together for almost two years.
“Partner, how’s he looking?” Clint’s question jolted her.
Lee looked up and their eyes met. She couldn’t speak, so she shook her head.
Her partner’s mouth set in a h
ard line and he gave a curt nod. “Caselli’s alive. Hit three times. Nothing looks vital.”
She dug for words. “Of course the asshole’s made of steel.”
“He’s out cold, but I cuffed him.”
“Good.”
Clint made it to her side in moments, kneeling. He pressed two fingers to Stewart’s neck. “Pulse is thready.” He didn’t stay down long, though. Weapon still in hand, he loomed close, ready to protect them if necessary.
“He’s not going to make it, Clint.” Lee’s voice was just above a whisper and she looked up to meet her partner’s pale eyes. A tremor shot down her spine and she gripped her injured co-worker closer.
“D-D-Dawson.” Stewart’s dark eyes flew open wide, and he gripped her wrist with surprising strength.
“Rest, bud. Ambulance will be here soon,” Downs urged.
“No…time…” His voice was more breathless with each word. Stewart’s chest heaved. His face was drawn and grey, his lips turning blue as she watched. His body shook on Lee’s lap. “Tell…”
“Stewart—”
“Tell Beth I love her. Mom too. My girls…” He coughed and jolted. Blood shot out of his mouth.
Emotion threatened to bowl Lee over and she sucked her cheek in, biting hard. Pain grounded her, but she couldn’t stop shaking. She was trembling as much as the dying man in her arms.
“Dawson.”
Lee met his eyes. The light was fading even faster than before from his brown gaze. His expression was urgent and his bloody fingers flexed on her wrist with surprising strength.
“Tell Evan I’m sorry. He…has to…live.”
She almost gave in to a sob when his last breath exited his mouth on a whoosh and Jeremy Stewart’s eyes slipped closed. His arm went slack, his fingers falling from her jacket’s sleeve.
“Damn…” Clint whispered, but Lee couldn’t look up at him.
Nate. I want Nate.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The anguished look on her face made Nate’s anger dissolve and his panic rise. His gaze frantically skimmed her petite frame. She was pale. Her shoulders were slumped. No weapon in her hand, either.
He tugged against the steering wheel for the hundredth time, but the handcuffs only offered a clink-clink.
Holy shit. She was covered in blood.
Nate’s heart took a dive for his stomach and he yanked away hard, wincing when steel bit into his wrist.
Lee’s partner beat her to the Accord’s driver-side door. He wrenched it open. “Here. I have a key.” Agent Downs dipped into the rental, one knee on the driver seat. “She told me just how she got you to stay put.”
The big man kept talking, but Nate couldn’t hear it. His eyes were glued to the love of his life.
She stood like a zombie only a few feet from the car.
“Lee,” Nate breathed.
“Hold on a sec. Be still and I— There ya go.”
Nate fled the car, leaving Downs there without even a thank you.
Lee fell into his arms, burying her face against his puffy jacket.
He didn’t give a shit about the blood. He gathered her closer when a muffled sob greeted his ears.
Her team was bustling around, as well as paramedics and local uniformed cops. No way she’d want witnesses to any tears.
“What the hell happened?” Nate asked, meeting her partner’s eyes as Downs got out of the Honda and shut the door.
Agent Downs crossed his arms over his massive chest, studying them. “Stewart didn’t make it. He died in her arms.”
Fuck.
Nate looked down at the petite woman plastered to his chest. Lee Dawson was one of the strongest people he knew. She was more than entitled to feel. He’d hold her until she regained her composure. But he burned to reassure her.
“Angel,” he whispered above her ear.
Lee didn’t look up, but she stilled against him.
“It’ll be okay. I’m here. Your partner’s here, and you’re both in one piece. You found him. You saved us both.”
Dark eyes locked onto his face. Her gaze darted back and forth, up and down, frantically, as if she’d suddenly remembered where she was. Or who he was.
“Are you all right?” Lee demanded. Her mouth was a hard line and her question was all FBI, not the soft woman with tears streaking her cheeks.
“I am. You kept me safe, angel.”
As much as it pained him to admit, and took a sizable bite out of his pride, Nate would probably have rushed into the mansion after her. That would have endangered them all.
Standing tiptoed, Lee crashed her mouth into his, wrapping her arms around his neck. She pushed her tongue into his mouth before Nate could pause to consider their audience.
Lee was kissing him? With other FBI agents around?
Not to mention her partner ten feet away.
Damn, he loved this woman.
He closed his eyes and kissed her back, swallowing the sounds of desperation she emitted. She squeezed his neck and kissed him harder, burrowing even further into his body.
Before he could get lost in the movements of their mouths, Lee pulled away. As if she’d realised where they were and who was around.
She slipped from his arms and he let her go without protest.
His love didn’t go far, looping her arm in his. As though Lee needed to touch him.
Fine with me.
He squeezed her arm, holding her as tightly as she was clinging to him.
When Nate met Clint’s gaze, the guy had an eyebrow cocked. His pale blue eyes held an amused twinkle, and his moustache twitched.
Nate stared, daring him to say something. Hoped he kept his mouth shut. He needed her partner to cut her a break, considering their circumstances. Kissing in public wasn’t a problem for Nate, but it went against Lee’s very private nature.
“Hey, Downs. Dawson.” A dark-haired agent strode over, thumbing towards the ambulance behind them. “Looks like Caselli’s gonna make it.”
“Good,” Lee snapped. “He needs to rot in prison.” She started to walk and Nate went alongside her. They closed the distance to the two men, her hand still tucked into his elbow.
“They need someone to ride to the hospital. I’m gonna go with,” the other agent said.
“Not a problem for me.” Downs spoke before Lee or Nate could.
The agent turned away, jogging towards the waiting red and white vehicle.
“Hey, Smythe,” Clint shouted as the guy climbed in the after the paramedic.
“Yeah?”
“Keep me posted on the bastard’s condition.”
“You got it.”
They watched until the doors shut and the ambulance pulled off, heading down the long driveway.
“Did you speak to the girls?” Lee asked her partner.
“No. Randolph and Morris took over for me when I followed you out. Randolph said she’d handle things. You know it’s usually easier for a female agent.”
“Yeah, well I’m sure they don’t want to talk to me. I threatened them.”
“You did what you needed to do, partner.”
Nate watched, letting them talk, despite the questions stirring in his thoughts. He would talk to her later.
“Wish it didn’t make me feel like crap,” Lee said.
“Nah, you’re good. You covered my ass. Thanks.”
She nodded. “That’s what partners are for.”
Silence descended as the three of them watched people bustle around the scene. The county Medical Examiner’s van pulled up and the three-man team got their gear and headed inside.
A local detective chatted with another of Lee and Downs’ teammates, and a few uniformed cops were setting up yellow perimeter tape.
Flashing red and blue lights from a few cruisers reflected off windows as well as the snow.
Chaos was paramount, and didn’t fit the peaceful, rural setting. Tracks marred the thick blankets of snow as everyone went to and from the house.
The loc
al cops were in an excited frenzy, because all of Caselli’s inner circle had been rudely awoken, and most arrested for outstanding warrants. Probably not for anything major, but maybe the annoyance of a holding cell would encourage loose mouths that would help Lee’s case.
Nate sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I need to call my brother.”
“Cole Lucas is gonna want to know about Caselli, too,” Lee remarked.
“Without a doubt,” Downs said. “The guy will probably require crime scene photos as proof.”
Lee smirked and shook her head. “Only because he wasn’t here. Bet he’ll be jealous as hell. But let me tell you, he’s gonna want a verbal recital. Don’t give him a call without having a speech prepared.”
“Oh, I know. No details can be missed.”
The two FBI agents looked at each other and laughed.
Nate shook his head. “Hey now, dude’s not even here to defend himself.”
His stomach flipped when Lee flashed a lopsided grin. Considering what she’d just been through, he was pleased she could focus on something, even if it was teasing their mutual friend in absentia.
“You’ve known him a few years now. Sure you worked with him on a county case or two.”
“Right.” Nate fought a grin and nodded.
“Then you know we’re right.” The twinkle was back in her dark eyes, and her cheeks were stained pink from the cold wind.
God, he wanted to kiss her, but didn’t. She was back in control, which was great. Lee would kick him in the balls for a PDA now, for sure.
Her partner chuckled. “Yeah, he knows. Not gonna admit it?”
Nate laughed. “Ya’ll are right. I’ll admit it. He’s passionate. Hard-working. And I never complain when he’s the investigator on a case I pick up. So there.”
Downs winked and Lee shook her head.
“Dawson. Downs.” Another agent strode over to them. He was a tall, black guy with attention-catching hazel eyes that popped against his dark complexion and bald head. His expression was hard.
Great. Bad news.
“Yeah, Morris?” Lee asked, one dark eyebrow arched.
“Barnes wants you to head back to the office. Now.”
