by Alex Ander
Enveloping her in his arms, Ashford squeezed her shoulder and kissed the top of her hair. “You’re a strong woman, Jess.” He rubbed her upper arm. “You’ll get through this.”
A minute later, after having breathed in the aroma of his body wash through his dress shirt, she righted herself and stared at her mate of six months. Her gaze darted over his black hair, dark eyes, long eyelashes, and square jaw, rugged good looks that had caught her attention the first time she laid eyes on him. “I love you, Curt. Thanks for...”
Her purse vibrated.
“...being there for me.”
He kissed her. “Anytime.”
“You’re right. I’ll get through this. But,” her purse shuddered again on the tops of her thighs, “having you by my side will make it much easier.”
Hearing the buzzing sound for the third time, Ashford glanced down and came back to her. “That might be important.”
“More important than you?” She plastered a more romantic kiss on his lips. “Never.”
He smiled. “I can’t argue with that, but...”
She grinned.
“...you might want to take it all the same.”
Sighing, “Fine,” Devlin uncurled her arms from around his waist and retrieved her cell phone. “But,” she swung an index finger back and forth between the two of them, “this isn’t over, Mister Ashford.”
He spread his arms as wide as they could go in the confines of the cab. “I’ll be here waiting for you.”
She hiked her lips at him while putting the mobile to her right ear. “Deputy Marsh—” the newly promoted federal agent caught her mistake, “Marshal Devlin speaking.” She shook her head. It’s going to take a while to get used to saying that.
“This is Detective Tom Harker.”
Frowning, Devlin dug fingers into a spot above her left eyebrow.
“Seattle Police Department? We met when you were...”
“Oh, yes...”
“...here visiting your sister?”
“...of course,” Devlin nodded. “I apologize, Detective Harker. My mind’s on something else right now. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Devlin pushed her back against the seat’s upright and gaped straight ahead. Now what?
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I believe something’s happened to your sister.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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Chapter 3
Taken
“Faith?” Having just lost a close friend, her mind now fearing the worst about her only sibling, Devlin put a hand to her forehead and willed herself to ask the question. “What’s happened to her?”
Cocking his head at his woman, Ashford reached for her.
She clenched his hand.
Harker: “I’m not exactly sure at this point in the investigation, but I—”
“Investigation?” Devlin eyed Ashford. “Investigation into what? Is she all right?”
“As I said, I’m not entirely sure. That’s why I’m calling you. I was hoping—”
“Stop dancing around, Detective, and tell me what the hell’s going on.”
“I’ll get right to it. I think your sister’s been abducted.”
Devlin’s hand rocketed to her mouth. Her eyes rolling upward, they darted left and right while her heart rate doubled. Her breaths came in short bursts.
Seeing panic written all over his wife’s face, Ashford poked his chin at her. “What is it? What’s going on?”
“Faith’s been kid—” her voice broke, “kidnapped. It’s the Seattle PD.” Devlin took a moment to calm her nerves, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth a few times.
Ashford tenderly touched her shoulder while reclaiming her free hand.
“How,” she gripped his hand tighter, “how do you know she’s been taken, Detective?”
“She didn’t show up for work yesterday and never called in. That’s not like her. We tried calling her cell, but only got her voicemail. So I sent a uniformed officer to her apartment. When the ‘uni’ told me he got no reply upon knocking on her door...”
Feeling a knot in her stomach slowly constricting, Devlin held her breath.
“...I made a call to the apartment manager and convinced him to unlock the door for the officer who,” Harker hesitated, “who found a dead man on the floor. The man’s throat had been sliced wide open.”
Clutching her own throat, Devlin drew a sharp breath.
“There were signs of a struggle...which leads me to believe your sister put up a fight before being taken.” A beat. “While I’ve assigned several of my men to this case, Ms. Devlin, would it be possible for you fly out here and view the scene for yourself? Being her sister and all, I was thinking you might have some special insight...spot something that only you would notice.”
Devlin undid her seatbelt, “Absolutely,” threw open her door, and scrambled out of the truck. “I’ll leave immediately.” She shielded her eyes from the sun with a flat hand to her brow, rose to tiptoes, and swayed left and right to see around trees and parked cars that lined the winding driveway to the road.
“Thank you. Just call me back at this number and let me know when you’re scheduled to arrive at the airport. I’ll have a car waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Detective.” She clicked off and placed another call while stealing glances at the cemetery entrance.
Ashford twisted his upper body toward Devlin. “Talk to me, Jess.”
She opened the back door, stretched across the seat, and reached for a duffle bag. “I’m flying to Seattle. The detective,” she wiggled fingers, but failed to get a grip on the bag, “can you grab my gear for me?”
He hurried out of the vehicle.
She stood tall and went back to studying the roadway behind her truck. “The detective thinks I may be able to help with the—”
Randall’s voice: “I didn’t expect you to be calling so—”
“Where are you?”
“I...I just left the cemetery. What’s—”
“Turn around and come pick me up.”
“Um...”
Ashford rounded the right-rear corner of the Ford.
She grabbed her bag from him and dropped it at her feet, “I’ll explain everything when you get here,” before ending the call and shoving the mobile into her purse. Sitting on her haunches, she jammed the purse into a side pocket on the duffle.
Ashford took out his phone. “I’ll get us a couple plane tickets to Seattle and tell your father he’ll be watching Cassie for a day or two.”
“No.” She stood and took him by the upper arms. “You need to look after Cassie while I’m away.”
“I don’t like the idea of you going out there alone.”
“I won’t be alone. Randall’s coming with me.”
“Randall? The guy from Mexico?”
“That’s right. He’s also going to be my new partner.”
Ashford frowned. “The guy who put your life in danger is now your partner?”
“Don’t forget. He’s also the guy who saved my life.”
“Yeah, after putting your life...and your family’s lives in—”
“Curt,” she raised a hand, “I don’t have time to go into the details right now. My sister’s missing. And every second I spend here is a second I lose in picking up her trail.”
Ashford’s chest heaved before he blew out a gust of wind. “Okay. Okay. I understand. It’s just that this is Faith we’re talking about. I want to be there with you...helping you find her.”
“And I’d like nothing else than to have you there with me, but we have our little girl to think about. We can’t both be gone. She needs some stability. And you know how much she loves you, feels safe with you around. The truth is,” Devlin glimpsed his chest before making eye contact, “I don’t think she sees you as her stepfather, but...as her father.”
His brows coming together, his heart slowly
making its way up to his throat, Ashford turned his head and saw an image of the six-year-old girl who had entered his life a year ago. “Yeah,” he hesitated, “I’ve grown to love the little bug, too.”
She cupped his chin and gently brought him back to her. “We’re a team in this marriage, Curt. When one of us needs something, the other one—”
He pumped a hand her way. “Say no more. I got your back...and Cassie’s. I’ll keep things running smoothly at home while you do what needs to be done.”
Flicking her eyes toward an approaching car, she flashed her man a smile. “Thank you for understanding.” Holding his cheeks in both hands, she kissed him. “I love you...so much.”
The car stopped, and Randall got out.
His right eye twitching, Ashford tossed the man his wife would be flying off with a hard glare before facing Devlin. “I’d sure like to know more about this guy you’ve been spending so much time with.”
She scooped up her bag, planted a longer smooch on his lips, and backed away. “You will...when this is all over.”
“In the last week,” Ashford gestured toward Randall, “he’s seen more of you than I have,” before dropping hands onto hips.
“After I find Faith, I promise I’ll introduce you to him.”
“Wait up a second.”
She stopped.
He drew close and embraced her. “You take care of yourself, Jess.”
“I will.”
He pecked the side of her neck before pulling away, taking hold of her shoulders, and regarding her. “Call me if there’s anything I can do from this end. Faith’s my family, too.”
Devlin’s heart skipped a beat at his words. Faith’s my family, too. “I will.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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Chapter 4
Crime Scene
3:51 P.M. (LOCAL TIME)
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
BELLTOWN NEIGHBORHOOD
Back in Alexandria, Devlin had broken the news about her sister’s disappearance to her boss, Marissa Thorn, Deputy Director of the U.S. Marshals Service. Thorn then made a few calls and managed to get Devlin and Randall on an FBI Gulfstream V taking off from Ronald Reagan Airport.
Upon landing at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, Devlin and Randall had climbed into the car Detective Harker had sent for them, his own dark blue Dodge Charger. A mid-twenties officer in uniform had instructed them to ‘buckle up’ before she had sped out of the airport.
Twenty minutes later, riding in the backseat of the Charger, still in his dress clothes from the funeral, Devlin on his right, Randall spied her before glancing out his window. “So it appears your husband doesn’t really care all that much for me, does he?”
Now wearing blue jeans, a white blouse, a lightweight navy-blue blazer, and brown Merrell Moab 2 Mid hiking boots—she had retrieved the change of clothing from her duffle bag during the flight—Devlin faced the fellow passenger. “What makes you say that?”
“In contrast to women, guys aren’t as,” he paused, “worried...about hurting another guy’s feelings. And, back at the cemetery, I definitely caught the message your husband was sending my way.” Randall smiled. “Trust me. He doesn’t like me.”
“He doesn’t know you...the way I do.” She looked out her window at the hustle and bustle of the trendy neighborhood around her. “He’s a good man. He’s a smart man. I’m confident that once he gets to know you, he’ll come around.”
Randall eyed the back of her head and chuckled inwardly. Oh, if it were only that simple between alpha males.
Its wipers clearing away water from the windshield, the Dodge slowed before stopping at the curb outside a high-rise apartment building.
Recognizing the facade from previous visits, Devlin pulled on her door handle, “We’re here,” and stepped out into a light rain coming down under gloomy skies. The hint of humidity in the air made her skin feel clammy and forced her lungs to work harder. She hurried toward the structure’s front door.
The trio entered the lobby and headed for the elevator, Devlin in the lead. Once inside, the cop pressed the ‘3’ button, and everyone’s knees wobbled a bit as the car lifted its commuters.
Facing the control panel, her short blonde hair tucked neatly under her hat, the five-six law enforcement official cranked her head toward the marshal on her left. “I’m sorry to hear about your sister.”
Devlin nodded. “Thank you.”
“After I graduated from the academy, Faith—” the LEO shook her head, “Detective Mahoney really helped me out during that first year of service. I was having a tough time making the transition into police work. She was a patrol officer at the time, and she took me under her wing...showed me how to handle certain situations.”
Devlin let a simple smile come and go. That sounds like Faith...always taking in strays.
“My training officer was,” the female cop faltered, “well let’s just say I don’t think he liked the idea of women on the force.”
Randall huffed. After all these years, the prejudice still exists.
“He was old-school and near retirement, so I think he—” she waved a hand, “anyway, your sister and me spent many a night talking and crying. Well,” her cheeks flushing a bit, the officer looked away, “okay, I did the crying.”
Devlin glanced behind her and exchanged a silent look of amusement with Randall.
“We’ve remained good friends ever since. And I owe,” a moment passed while the woman stared at the steel doors, “I owe her a lot.” Another second ticked by. “I guess what I’m trying to say is if it weren’t for her,” the LEO came back to Devlin, “I doubt I’d be standing here today...wearing this uniform.”
Randall poked his chin at the reminiscing woman. “And the people of Seattle are better off because you are wearing that uniform.”
“Thank you, sir.” She flipped a wrist and spied her watch. “My shift ends in a little while, but,” she plucked a business card from a chest pocket and extended the offering to the other woman, “if I can help with anything while you’re in town...”
Devlin accepted the card.
“...please feel free to call me—day or night.”
Devlin read the name. “Thank you, Officer Duncan. I—”
“Patricia.”
Devlin smiled. “I appreciate the gesture, Patricia.”
“While I’m not sure how much help I can be—I understand Detective Harker has allocated quite a few resources to this case—know that I’ll...”
A bell chimed and the doors parted.
“...do whatever I can to assist you in finding your sister.”
Devlin stowed the business card in a blazer pocket. “Thank you again, Patricia. I’m glad Faith was there for you.”
Officer Duncan exited the elevator. “And now I want to be there for her.”
*******
The first thing Devlin noticed upon entering her sister’s apartment was the large patch of discolored carpeting at her feet. The shape of the dried blood could have passed for a gruesome welcome mat.
“Thank you for coming, Marshal Devlin.” Forty-five, five-ten, and weighing north of two hundred pounds—fifty of those added pounds keeping him from reclaiming his high school wrestling weight—Detective Tom Harker sidestepped the blood splotch and extended an arm. “I’m sorry it couldn’t have been under better circumstances.”
Taking in the man’s features, full head of tousled dark brown hair, dark-colored eyes, trimmed eyebrows, and more than a day’s worth of facial hair, Devlin shook his weathered hand. “Me too, Detective.” She motioned behind her. “This is my partner, Noah Randall.”
The men clasped hands and exchanged professional greetings.
Harker cocked his head at her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought you were a deputy marshal the last time we met. Promotion?”
“Last week.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She pointed at the blotch. “I take it this i
s where...” her unspoken query faded.
Harker nodded. “Young man in his twenties. He was fit, too. So he must’ve been surprised by whoever killed him.”
“Or,” Randall ambled away from the door, his head pivoting, his eyes scanning the small living room, “there were multiple attackers.”
Harker rubbed his chin. “That’s also an angle we’re investigating.”
Devlin saw a small table nearby. On it, a picture lay face down as if it had been knocked over. She squinted at the layer of dust covering the table’s surface before eyeballing a short lamp beside the photo frame. The lamp’s circular base rested next to a half circle of dust-free real estate. “It looks like,” she pointed at the out-of-place items, “there was a struggle here.”
“That’s what we thought, too, but we found a woman’s shirt, pair of pants, and shoes,” he pointed at the floor to the left of the table, “there...right next to a man’s shirt. The victim wore only jeans. Boxer shorts and socks were found in the bedroom.” Harker hesitated before delivering his next words while looking away. “The lab techs also discovered semen stains on the bed sheets.”
Devlin raised her eyebrows. “Do you think she was,” she wavered, “raped?”
Hearing the hitch in his partner’s voice, Randall glanced over his shoulder and noticed her skin losing some color.
“It’s possible, but,” Harker scratched his cheek, “I don’t think so. Judging from the display of discarded clothing leading to the bedroom, I think the deceased and your sister were...romantically involved. Semen was also found on the dead man’s...” the detective rolled a finger at where the man’s body had lain, “you know.”
Peeking into the bathroom, Randall saw a disheveled towel and washcloth draped over the shower rod and a bunched bathmat on the floor. Crumpled black panties lay a foot away from the mat. He backed out and saw Devlin rubbing her forehead. “Jessica.”
She spied him.
“I don’t think she was raped.” He threw a thumb toward the bathroom. “Based on what I’m seeing in here, I’m almost positive the sex was consensual.”
Devlin’s shoulders dipped a bit while she let out a quick breath.
