Nameless (Sinister Secrets Book 1)

by Candle Sutton

  Nameless

  Candle Sutton

  Text copyright © 2020 Candle Sutton

  All Rights Reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, dialogue, incidents, and locations are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to events, places, or people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or other – without written permission from the author.

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  Table of Contents

  Free ebook giveaway!

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Free ebook giveaway

  Dedication & Acknowledgments

  A note from the author

  Excerpt from Faceless

  Prologue

  One

  Also Available by Candle Sutton

  One

  He should’ve taken one more day of vacation.

  FBI Special Agent Dakarai Lakes edged around the corner of the bait shop. Light glinted off metal a split second before another gunshot broke the morning quiet.

  He jerked back as the bullet slammed into the siding beside his head.

  Seriously! Why couldn’t he have extended his vacation by one more day?

  “Come on, man!” His voice echoed in the sudden quiet. “You’re only making things worse for yourself!”

  Frankly, he didn’t even know what the guy had done.

  Other than taking a federal agent hostage. And shooting at more federal agents.

  The answer was probably on his desk. Or in his email. But thanks to a snarl-up on I-5 and increased traffic in the downtown area, he hadn’t even made it to the office before the call for assistance came in.

  That it was someone from his own team being held hostage was bad enough. That it was his buddy Sid made things even worse.

  God, please protect Sid. Let him be okay.

  The prayer rocketed through his mind.

  He assessed the rest of his team. Felicia crouched behind a car parked in a reserved space. JD sheltered behind a dumpster.

  None of them were in position to get a good shot.

  Besides, the risk of hitting Sid was very real.

  Maybe if JD and Felicia could distract the shooter, he could make it around the edge of the bait shop and get closer to the rusty old fishing boat where Sid was being held.

  He ventured a glance around the corner.

  The fishing boat was moored at least fifty feet from his location, with no cover between. Not even a garbage can.

  Charging the boat was suicide.

  Another gunshot, another bullet striking the building beside him.

  A hiss burst through his clenched teeth as he pulled back.

  If only he knew what kind of weapon the guy was using. It wasn’t an automatic weapon. Sounded more like a handgun. There’d been six shots so far. How large was the magazine? More importantly, how many magazines did the guy have?

  “Agent Lakes?” A soft feminine voice came from behind him.

  He whirled, his attention locking on a slender blonde. The badge hanging around her neck clearly identified her as one of theirs.

  She held up her hands. “SAC Sorenson sent me. To talk him down.”

  This was the negotiator?

  Had to be if the Special Agent in Charge sent her. Sorenson wouldn’t send just anyone to assist.

  Quick guess put her no taller than 5’6”, with a weight no more than a buck thirty. Black suit, floral shirt, and low heels on her blood colored dress shoes. Blonde hair twisted up and secured behind her head in a clip, although the wind pushing off the Puget Sound had released some shorter strands.

  The SAC had sent a model to help him? What, the PR guy and secretaries weren’t available?

  Then again, was there anyone less assuming? If he had trouble buying her as a negotiator, surely the dude on the boat wouldn’t see her as such either.

  Clearly the SAC believed in her. And Dak sure wasn’t getting anywhere.

  He nodded. “I don’t have any info–”

  “It’s okay. I was briefed on the way over.” She pulled out her phone and punched in a number, then put it on speaker. The line rang once, twice, and kept ringing before finally going to voicemail.

  She hung up and hit redial.

  Same result.

  Well, negotiations weren’t gonna go far if the guy on the boat wouldn’t answer.

  She punched redial again.

  It stopped ringing on the fifth ring. “Leave me alone!”

  “Mr. Esterson? My name is Emily. I’m here to help you.” Her voice was calm, friendly even. An accent, that might’ve been Australian, colored the words.

  “Em-Emily?” The man fell silent.

  “Yes. I want to make sure your voice is heard.”

  “My wife’s name was Emma.”

  Emily nodded. “I heard what happened to her. I’m so sorry.”

  She was good. He’d give her that. She really sounded sorry. Not like someone trying to put on a show to get her way, but like she truly shared his grief.

  “Yeah, well you hear that my kid’s missin’? And they’re tryin’ to pin it on me!”

  “I heard something about that, but I’d really like to hear your side.” Sincerity oozed from her words. If she didn’t genuinely mean what she’d said, she was one heck of a liar.

  Dak studied her. The phone rested loosely in her palm. Her narrow shoulders were relaxed. Thin eyebrows pinched over eyes that reflected the color of the evergreen trees on the mountains surrounding Seattle.

  Yeah, she looked like she meant it. All of it.

  Whether she really did or not, she’d gotten Esterson talking, which was more than he’d been able to do.

  “I ain’t been no great dad or nothin’, but I love my girl. She’s out there and ‘steada tryin’ to find her, you guys are buggin’ me!”

  Emily paused briefly, as if trying to gather her thoughts. “I want to find her, but we need our colleague in order to do that. Can you let him go?”

  “Not ‘til you find my little girl!” The words blasted across the line. “Soons I see her, I’ll let yer man go.”

  Another pause. “I think you can help us f
ind her. May I come on board and ask you a few questions?”

  Come on board? What fantasy world did she live in?

  No way in heck was she getting on that boat! Not on his watch. One agent hostage was bad enough. He wouldn’t allow Esterson to have two.

  Now to get her attention and lay down the law. Without using words. He cleared his throat.

  No response.

  “Jus’ you?” Esterson sounded suspicious.

  “Just me. I’ll even leave my gun here, if that would make you feel better.”

  What? Was she crazy?

  He touched her arm.

  She turned toward him.

  Shaking his head vehemently, he mouthed NO.

  “‘Spose that’d be okay.” Esterson didn’t sound convinced.

  This was not happening!

  With a glance at her phone, he hit the mute icon. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting our agent back.”

  Our agent? Who did she think she was? “Not by getting on that boat, you’re not.”

  She unstrapped the gun at her hip. “I’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  Trust her? He didn’t even know her! “You don’t know that! You step out there and he could shoot you.”

  “He’s not going to shoot me.” Her voice sounded calm and assured. “I studied his profile. He’s a simple, hard-working man with old fashioned values who’s gotten in over his head. He has already associated me with his wife, meaning his inclination will be to protect me. I can get on that boat and talk him down. If that doesn’t work, I’ll disarm him before he even realizes I’m a threat.”

  Right. Because human behavior was always that predictable. “You can’t know–”

  “Emily? You still there?” Esterson’s voice interrupted.

  “Hear that? He wants this resolved peacefully.” Emily hit the unmute button. “I’m here. The agents out here are worried that you’re going to shoot me, but I trust you. Do I have your word that you won’t shoot me?”

  Silence.

  Maybe Esterson wouldn’t agree and she’d realize what a stupid plan this was. If she didn’t, he’d have to physically stop her from going.

  Which wasn’t how he wanted this to go down.

  “Yeah. Longs you leave yer gun there and come alone, I won’t shoot no one.”

  Emily looked at him, her expression clearly saying “And there you have it.”

  Except that he didn’t trust Esterson to keep his word.

  The man had taken one of his agents hostage, and perhaps kidnapped his own daughter. What was to keep him from killing Emily? Or, at the very least, adding her to the hostage list?

  “Okay. I’m coming out now.” Pulling the clip from her hair, she tousled the blonde waves cascading down her back.

  Now what was she doing? Or did he even want to know?

  She pulled her gun from the holster, held it up high, and slowly rose above the crate. “See, here’s my weapon. I’m leaving it here on the crate.”

  Movements slow and deliberate, she set it on the wooden crate in front of her.

  “Is it alright if I come on board now?”

  “Yeah. Don’t make no sudden moves, though.”

  “I won’t. I’m going to hang up now and then I’m coming out. I’ll see you in a minute.”

  Time to put a stop to this. Right now.

  As she punched the red button on her phone, he shook his head. “No way. I don’t know where you came from, but this is not how we do things.”

  She jerked her head toward the boat. “It doesn’t look like your way is working so well today, now does it?”

  “There are protocols. Protocols keep us alive.”

  “They also take too long. We don’t have that kind of time.” She took a step toward the edge of the crates.

  “SWAT is on the way. Should be here any second.” Hopefully. He lightly grabbed her wrist. “This is my team. My op. I can’t let you do this.”

  “SAC Sorenson personally sent me.” She pulled from his grasp. “Besides, Esterson’s wife was blonde.”

  Blonde? What did that have to do with anything?

  Emily darted around the crates, hands up and fingers spread.

  “Get back here!” Even as he hissed the words, he knew he’d wasted his breath.

  If she heard, she didn’t acknowledge. Not that he’d expected she would.

  He watched her move further from her abandoned weapon and closer to the boat.

  This was crazy.

  As soon as they got back to the office, he’d report her.

  Assuming she survived.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Special Agent Kevyn Taylor kept her face fixed on the weather-torn boat that grew larger by the second. Her pulse hammered in her ears, a sharp contrast to the calm façade she’d shown Agent Lakes.

  Emily. You are Emily.

  She repeated the mantra in her mind as she worked to keep her expression open and friendly.

  Thank goodness she’d had years of practice slipping into whatever persona was needed in a given situation. That skill would hopefully keep her and the rest of the agents on the dock alive today.

  She reached the gangplank and looked up at the boat’s cabin.

  Inside she could barely make out the figure of a man.

  “Mr. Esterson? It’s Emily. Permission to board?” A friendly lilt lightened her words. “I’m unarmed.”

  She spread her hands to show the truth of her words.

  Good thing he couldn’t see the Ruger at her ankle. Or the blade sheathed at her hip.

  She hoped she wouldn’t need either of those items today.

  “Yeah, come on up.”

  She cautiously navigated the narrow gangplank, her eyes glancing down. Dark slate water lapped the sides of the boat. She had zero desire to take a dip in the frigid waters of the Puget Sound today.

  Although, if she’d done her job well, there was a chance that Esterson would feel the need to try to save her if she fell.

  Her heels tapped the wood as she stepped onto the boat’s deck.

  The rocking of the boat made her first few steps unsteady, but by the time she reached the cabin she’d found her sea legs. Or at least some semblance of them.

  Reaching for the doorknob, she kept her movements slow and unthreatening. She eased the door open.

  A scrawny white man, with sandy brown hair sticking up at odd angles around his head, surveyed her from across the room. Several days’ worth of stubble darkened his chin and upper lip.

  The gun in his hands clearly identified him as her target.

  “Mr. Esterson? I’m Emily.” She stepped inside, her gaze flicking briefly to the agent lying on the floor. Blood crusted around a cut on his forehead, but the eyes staring out from beneath a flaming red mop of hair were alert. Angry, but alert.

  Well, he could be angry. At least he was alive.

  If Esterson had killed him, she would’ve had significantly less negotiating power.

  Handcuffs, which likely belonged to the red-headed agent, secured the agent’s wrists behind his back.

  Talk about adding insult to injury.

  If this task force was like any of the others she’d worked on in the past, he’d never live that one down.

  But at least he would live. She’d see to that.

  She focused her full attention on Esterson, who regarded her with open suspicion.

  Now to see if she could get him to trust her. Or at least drop his guard enough so she could disarm him.

  “Thanks for speaking with me, Mr. Esterson.” She smiled.

  “Yer wastin’ yer time with me!” Watery dark eyes fixed on her. “You oughta be out there findin’ my girl.”

  He swung the gun wildly toward the window, his gun bumping a beer can. The empty can toppled off the table and rolled to join half a dozen others.

  How long had it been since he stopped drinking?

  A look at his bloodshot eyes confirmed it probably hadn’t been long enough.

  She
put her hands out, palms facing the wooden boards beneath their feet, and subtly pressed downward. “Believe me, finding her is my top priority.”

  Well, almost. Ending this standoff topped finding his missing daughter, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “What’s her name?”

  His glare softened. “Ava. She’s a good kid.”

  “Can you tell me what happened to her?”

  “I already told them other agents!” His voice rose.

  “But I want to hear it from you.” She took a small step forward. “There might be something you know that can help me find her.”

  The gun was angled toward the floor. If she could close the gap a little more, maybe she could take it from him.

  “Don’t know nothin’. My in-laws gots custody o’ her.” His Adam’s apple bobbed.

  Hmm. He didn’t sound angry about not having custody of his daughter. “Do you get to see her often?”

  “Any time I want. I let ‘em have custody ‘cause this life,” he gestured at the cabin around them, “Ain’t no life for a kid. But it’s all I know.”

  “You did what was best for her.”

  “Yeah.” His eyebrows lowered as he angled a glare at the redheaded agent. “Couldn’t make him listen, though. He thought I took her ‘cause I didn’t have custody.”

  Naturally. Non-custodial parents were frequently responsible in child-abduction cases.

  Not that she’d tell Esterson that.

  “My in-laws called ‘n said she didn’t come home from school. They was hopin’ maybe I’d picked her up or somethin’, but I wouldn’t do that without tellin’ ‘em.”

  “How old is your daughter?” Of course, the information had been in his file, so she knew very well that his daughter was eight, but anything she could do to connect with him on a personal level would work in her favor.

  “Eight. She’s doin’ real good in school, too. Made the honor roll. She ain’t the type to run off or nothin’.”

  “I don’t think she ran off.” No point in mentioning that the case was being investigated as a possible human trafficking case.

  Kevyn took another small step forward.

  Less than five feet separated them now. She could close that distance quickly, if she needed to.