by Zoe Dawson
“We’re in the process of checking the phone records. The boss wants an update as soon as we have one.”
Derrick nodded. “Canvass the neighborhood. I’m taking Ms. St. John back to the office for more in-depth questions.”
Agent Beck nodded. “See you back at Pendleton.”
Derrick nodded and escorted Emma out the front door and to his car.
She moved as if in slow motion, as if her limbs had been frozen and were now just thawing. Once inside the car, she looked over at him, their eyes clashing in the silence; his heart skipped a hard beat. Her face was stiff and only her mouth quivered, her eyes moist, devastation there in the striking blue depths. She stared at him as if her whole world had just crashed and burned. Derrick stared back at her, his expression neutral. He was trying to remain professional. Remain detached, and for the first time since Afsana, he was struggling.
She broke eye contact and faced forward, her head bent as she just stared down; a curtain of shoulder-length copper hair fell on either side of her oval face, her forehead fringed with thick bangs. Something about her moved him, stirring sympathy and deep interest.
He felt as if someone had just dropped a load of bricks on his head.
The woman was beautiful, the kind that stopped a man’s heart. But her beauty wasn’t what affected him; it was those eyes, thickly lashed and straightforward, filled with the kind of courage he’d seen on the battlefield. This woman was a fighter through and through.
She looked like trouble wrapped up in a redheaded package.
With everything that had been stirred up during the mission with Dexter Kaczewski and coming face-to-face with his tumultuous past in Afghanistan, then that harrowing jungle adventure with Kaczewski’s brother Rock, Derrick had needed more recovery time than he’d gotten. It was all messing with his head.
It had been easy to handle his emotions when he didn’t have to see the boy or interact with his mother. His colossal mistake had jeopardized his mission and her life. He regretted his lapse in judgment, compromising himself and the safety of the troops in the area. But he’d fallen in love for the first time in his life and hadn’t known how to deal with it. He’d made a mess of it by getting her pregnant.
His guilt, even after eight years, was still fresh, his remorse even more of a bitter pill. He had a son and he could never see him or be a father to him like Derrick wanted. His only consolation was that Afsana had married a good man.
When he walked into the office, he ushered Emma to the conference room. Pouring her a cup of coffee, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. Damn, she was striking. And off-limits, he reminded himself. He wasn’t about to muck up an investigation by thinking inappropriate thoughts about the victim’s sister. This was at the very least a suspicious incident, and at the maximum, a child abduction with Lily’s attempted murder. His gut said kidnapping. He fully expected someone had thrown a five-four, one-hundred-ten-pound woman down the stairs and abducted a nine-month-old infant. The child was the key if they could figure out why someone would want to snatch him.
Reaching out, he clasped the woman’s arm, but she shrugged off his touch and stepped back. “Have a seat. I need to ask you more questions,” he said, keeping his voice calm and soothing, yet urgency churned in his gut.
For a moment she stared at him, the color gone from her face; then she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, as if it hurt her to do so. She folded her arms around herself. Turning, she sat down wearily at the table and cupped her hands around the mug. Still, he couldn’t help but look. She was beautiful, really beautiful.
He settled into the chair diagonally from her and said, “Tell me about your sister. There’s a clue in there somewhere that will give us information that may point to who took your nephew and what happened to Lily.”
She looked away and there was resistance written all over her face, as if their past was painful and guarded. And again, he couldn’t seem to help his response. He knew exactly what that was like. He tempered his reply as best he could, but this copper-haired woman got to him, even with his formidable skills in deflecting complex human emotion.
“We lost our parents in a car crash when Lily was six and I was eight,” she said, her voice also filled with dissent. “We were raised by our…grandmother.” There was a discordant undertone to her words now. “She wasn’t exactly sympathetic or tolerant to two little orphaned girls.” She didn’t waver, her gaze steady and strong on his. “My sister was pure, trusting and kind. She always got herself into situations where she needed help in getting out and I was there for her, until we grew up and went our separate ways. Lily was always looking for love. She wanted it desperately enough that she rushed into relationships, hoping and praying it would work out. She ended up going from inappropriate boyfriends to abusive boyfriends to indifferent boyfriends.”
Emma sipped her coffee, then said, “She acted on impulse and danced to music no one else could hear and there was no holding back with her.”
It surprised him that Emma’s sister was a sailor. The Navy was all about conformity and rules. Where did the child at heart fit in? “It makes me wonder how she ended up in the Navy.”
Emma sighed and shook her head. “She met a sailor and, on a whim, joined the Navy, but she landed on her feet and seemed to love it. Maybe it gave her structure.”
“What is this sailor’s name?”
“Petty Officer William Samuels. I don’t believe they are together anymore.”
“Was she married?”
“No, she was secretive about the men in her life lately. I think she was seeing someone, but she wouldn’t tell me who. I suspect she thought I wouldn’t approve.”
“And the father of her son?”
“I don’t know. She wouldn’t say. Maybe he’s married? Maybe someone she works with.”
“An officer?”
Emma shrugged. “I wish I could be more help there.”
Derrick reached for one of his cards and slid it across the table toward her. “If you think of anything else, Emma, please call me. There will be someone outside who will drive you back to your car. Thank you for your time.”
She rose at the same time he did. He was far, far from the touchy-feely sort. That was why he often worked with Austin or Amber. They were the ones who got all sympathetic and supportive. It wasn’t that he didn’t have compassion, it was that he chose to channel everything he had into a case. It worked the best for him, but this woman always seemed to be shifting the firm ground beneath his feet into sand.
For a moment they stood there while this “thing” passed between them. Finally, she reached into her purse and pulled out a card. She handed it to him. “Call me when you find out any information. I want to know everything, no matter how small.”
He nodded, not trusting his voice.
Then she slipped past him and the door closed behind her. He felt instant relief that she was gone. Not since Afsana had he had such an instant connection, an interest that he couldn’t shake. But it went deeper than his feelings for the woman he’d lost. There was the case to consider and her vulnerability. No matter how much she tried to hide it, he’d seen it. He was damn good at seeing beneath barriers.
Except now he knew that she was attracted to him, too. She was fighting it just as hard and that suited him fine.
He looked down at the card, then swore softly under his breath. She was a private investigator. It didn’t require a stretch of the imagination to think that Emma would want to be involved in locating her nephew and finding out the mystery of her sister’s attack. The reason the boy was abducted had to be directly tied to the mother. Investigating Lily St. John was where they would start, but it sure wouldn’t be where it ended.
He knew Emma’s type, and she was definitely the sort from the top of her copper head down to her feet. He had to wonder if she had either military training or she’d been a cop. Something he was going to find out right now.
There was no time to screw around. They
had a missing child kidnapped by unknown persons. That had to take top priority.
God help Emma if she got in his way.
Chapter Two
Gathering his composure and pissed that he had to actually pull himself together, Derrick turned and left the conference room.
He went right to Austin’s desk and said, “What have you got so far?”
Austin looked up, and his eyes narrowed. “Why are you cheesed?”
In the past Derrick had been able to hide his emotions, but now Austin and Amber were tuned in to him. Something he was still getting used to.
“I’m not,” Derrick ground out.
Amber looked up from her desk with a dubious expression on her face.
“Oh, sweetheart, yes, you are.” She smiled at him and his heart softened. She got up and walked over to his desk, and Austin rose, too. Derrick settled behind it, turning the card over and over in his hand. He knew it was stupid, but it felt warm to the touch, as if Emma’s heat was trapped in the paper.
“You can talk to us,” Amber said, her tone muted. She glanced at Austin, who grinned and opened his mouth. She nudged him. “Stop teasing him.”
Austin’s grin disappeared and he cleared his throat. “At the risk of sounding touchy-feely, you know we always have your back. You should know that by now.”
Derrick was well aware. They had proved it so many times, Austin just this evening when Emma had the drop on him. He huffed a hard breath and said, “I know that. Still not easy for me.”
“After this we need to get drunk and you can spill all your secrets, and if a certain agency that shall remain unnamed should come up, we’d be sworn to the utmost confidentiality.”
“I never said I was with the CIA.” He didn’t know where it came from, but there was a pressure in him to tell them, get the aching pain out, but his oath to The Company and his lone-wolf need to be separate from the pack interfered.
At the looks on their faces, Derrick, for the first time ever, felt their disappointment keenly. How could he ever be part of a team when he didn’t trust its members completely? Except trust was hard-won with his background, his childhood had been anything but idyllic, and years of keeping everything to himself made him bottled up tight inside.
He snapped the card right side up. “She’s a PI.”
Both of them groaned. “Ah, all of us know she’s going to be a pain. PIs always want in on the action, especially when it’s something as personal as this. My heart goes out to her, but getting involved in a family member’s kidnapping is a bad idea.”
“Yeah, I got the sense she’s a ball-buster and won’t easily accept no for an answer.”
These were Derrick’s exact thoughts. They were all completely on the same page.
“Far be it for me to break up this little tea party, but can we get on with it?” Kai said as she entered. “We’ve got a major dirtbag to find,” she ground out, her mood mirroring Derrick’s.
Derrick clenched his jaw. Someone had injured a mother—a petite, sweet, unassuming woman. It was time to run him to ground.
Austin threw her a glance and nodded. He walked over and picked up the remote. Clicking once, Lily St. John’s Navy profile photo popped up on the plasma.
Amber sat on the edge of his desk and gave her attention to the screen. “Lily Leigh St. John, raised by her grandmother, Elizabeth Grayson St. John, Esquire,” she said as Austin passed her the remote.
“The Ice Queen lawyer?” Derrick said. Bess was a no-holds-barred district attorney who practically ran the justice system in DC about ten years ago. She had a reputation of taking on the worst cases and winning them, making a name for herself. It was telling that he’d never heard she had a family or that she had raised her grandchildren. In Bess’s case, he was sure children were to be seen but not heard.
“Yes. She’s retired now. She had a son, Matthew, who graduated from Harvard and was being groomed for the DA’s position, and a daughter-in-law, Laura. They were killed in a car accident when the girls were eight and six. Lily’s only sibling was Emma Jean St. John, former LAPD detective and now a private investigator with three offices in California.”
Austin groaned, and Amber made a face.
“Yeah. She gave me her card,” he said to Kai. He studied Lily’s photo, and his gut clenched for Emma. He immediately switched his thoughts to keep his mind off Lily’s attractive sister. The focus needed to be on Lily and her son. “Lily wouldn’t tell Emma who the father of her child was. She was tight-lipped and secretive.”
“Hmm. Usually means the man isn’t free,” Amber said.
“He sure isn’t,” Austin said, settling behind his desk. “While you were questioning Emma, I was looking into her phone. The hospital found it in her personal belongings and sent it over.”
“You have something to share?” Kai said with an arched brow.
“I found what is described as a ‘semi-anonymous chat app’ on Lily’s phone. They are supposed to be anonymous but aren’t. Far from it. It took me all of ten minutes to find out who she was chatting with.”
“Who?” Kai said.
“Her CO, Commander John Ward. Married.”
Kai did a tsk-tsking noise, and before she could say anything, Derrick growled, “I’m taking him. Here or at the office?”
“Here,” Kai said, “and since you didn’t ask, you have lead on this. Your interrogation skills are top-notch. So step all over his toes and then some.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Derrick said with relish. This is where his interrogation experience with the CIA would come in handy and wouldn’t tweak his conscience one bit.
An hour later Derrick entered the interrogation room.
“It’s about damn time! What is this about? I was dragged out of my home and in here like some common criminal!”
“Commander Ward. I just discovered that you were brought to the wrong place,” Derrick said, his voice conciliatory as he entered the 8x10 room with blank gray walls, one table and three chairs. It was designed to maximize a suspect’s discomfort and sense of powerlessness. It was imperative in this particular case because Commander Ward was used to being in charge. Kai, Amber, and Austin were all in the observation room watching through the two-way mirror. He pulled out the chair and sat down. “We apologize for the mix-up, but since we’re already here, we might as well discuss Petty Officer Lily St. John. Would that be all right with you?” Derrick smiled. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Water,” he said, partially mollified but still wary, especially after Lily’s name was mentioned. He didn’t seem to notice how Derrick had glossed over his acquiescence in staying in the interrogation room. Either he was playing it cool or he was trying to play Derrick.
“What does this have to do with Petty Officer St. John?”
“What were her duties?”
This question was key. The first rule of interrogation was to create a baseline, forcing the suspect to access different parts of his brain. Asking nonthreatening questions that required access to memory, or the other part of the brain required for thinking, broadcasted nonverbal clues to Derrick. Ward’s eyes went to the right, a cue that he was remembering, accessing the part of the brain used for memory.
“She’s an E4, Petty Officer Third Class, a mass communication specialist. She performs graphic design in support of the public affairs mission, designing and managing official websites and performing high-speed, high-volume graphic reproduction.”
There was a knock on the door. Derrick rose and accepted the bottle of water from Amber’s hands. Ward’s gaze darted to the two-way mirror. Yeah, this guy had something to hide. Interrogation was all about human nature. Set the subject at ease and get them to talk about things that were true. Then delve a little deeper and drop the big bomb. It made it more difficult to lie effectively. A nervous suspect got nervous for a reason. Derrick had enough experience with simple and complex interrogations. Some were sanctioned and others were dark-ops related. He didn’t judge himself. His
judgment was all about justice, and it was his bottom line.
“How would you rate her as an employee and sailor?”
Warmth flooded Ward’s eyes as they moved to the left, indicating that Ward was thinking and activating his cognitive center.
He smiled and said, “She’s exemplary at both. Punctual, always willing to go the extra mile. She has a sweet disposition. Her output is top-notch, and she’s a hard worker.”
“What is she currently working on. Anything sensitive?”
For a moment Ward stared at Derrick, his eyes sharpening as if Derrick was accusing Lily of something criminal. The disbelief on his face was added to Derrick’s mental database. Then he looked right, a sure sign that he was accessing his memory banks.
“She’s working on the Navy’s Birthday Bash website. We’re gearing up to sell tickets and plan the event. All the employees in public affairs handle sensitive matters, but if you’re insinuating that Lily…Petty Officer St. John…is in any way acting against her country, you must be mistaken,” he said, disgust evident in his voice and face.
“When was the last time you talked to her?”
“Yesterday. I didn’t see her today. I was busy and in meetings.” Ward looked to the left instead of right, indicating to Derrick that he was lying. He had had contact with Lily the day she went down those stairs.
“Were you in a meeting at six this morning?”
His eyes shuttered and his lips pinched, Ward shook his head. “No. I was home getting dressed to go on base. Why do you want to know where I was at six a.m.? Is Lily in some kind of trouble?” He was telling the truth.
It was time to confront this suspect, to get a confession out of him and hopefully the possibility of getting a lead on Lily’s son. “She’s in a coma. She was tossed down the stairs, Commander. She was found this afternoon.” Derrick opened his folder and spread out the photos on the table.
The blood drained from the commander’s face as his shocked and suddenly moist eyes stared at Derrick. “No,” he whispered, swallowing hard. “That can’t be. No wonder she didn’t answer me,” he added desolately.
