Voice of fear, p.13
Voice of Fear, page 13
“Same message?” he asked.
“I believe. ‘Come back to headquarters. Judy Greeley is here, and she might have some interesting information.’”
“So much for calling it a day,” Patrick said. “Let’s go. We didn’t really get much of a chance to speak with her before. And the deeper we go, the more we may discover.”
“But also food,” Jordan said quietly.
“Pardon?”
“Yes, we’ll talk to Judy. But after that, food!”
“Food will be good,” he agreed.
At headquarters again, they found Angela was hard at work on a money trail. She looked up at them as they entered her office, shaking her head.
“Seems like Rory Ayers did not have much when he married into money. And through records, it appears everything he had was tied together with his wife. After his arrest when she sued for divorce, he lost most of that. There has to be money somewhere,” she said.
“If he was dealing in cash, he found a way to get the money out of the country,” Patrick said.
“That’s what I’m figuring, but I’m still looking for a way to find it. One of us is going to have to take a trip out to see his ex-wife and the young woman he raised as his own, Deirdre.” Angela grimaced. “Judy Greeley is waiting; she specifically asked to speak with you. Trust is hard for her to come by.”
“That’s fine,” Patrick assured her. “We’re glad to see her.”
“First conference room again. I’ll have the camera running,” Angela said. “Bry-bo can stay with me.”
They went to the conference room where Judy Greeley was seated, staring at the paper cup of coffee in front of her, running her fingers over the rim. She looked up when they entered, started to stand, and sat back down when they both persuaded her it was fine to do so.
“I—I hope I’m not bothering you. I realize you’re probably very busy, but...”
“It’s no problem,” Jordan said.
“I just don’t know what I’m saying, really. I may be way off, but...well, it’s hard for any of us to trust anyone these days. It was hard for us to even trust each other because anything said or done could hurt someone else, but...”
Patrick and Jordan had taken seats across from her. Jordan reached over the table, taking her hand. “You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. Having a gun pressed against your head is terrifying. We understand. Do you know why they chose you?”
“Special Agent Crow asked me that,” she muttered. She shook her head. “I don’t know why they suddenly dragged me out. Except that—” she paused, looking at them “—I had been friends with Susie.”
Patrick knew that Jordan was containing her reaction just as he was.
“There wasn’t a Susie with you at the house,” he said quietly.
Judy shook her head. “We’d been together first at the mansion. Sometimes, they moved us around. We were there together for a bit. Connie was with Susie first, and she told me to be careful, very careful, because Susie was in trouble. She told me to stay away from her. But I admired her. She stood up to people even when they slapped her around. When we were moved, Susie wasn’t moved with us. Connie told me never to mention her, even when we were alone. The walls had ears, she told me. And we didn’t talk about Susie, and I don’t know what happened to her.” She paused again. “I would never make anything harder on anyone else, but...I think Connie knows more. And I think one of Connie’s kids is really Susie’s child.”
Patrick was so stunned he didn’t speak for a moment.
Neither did Jordan.
“What makes you think that?” he asked at last.
“I always thought Connie cared about Susie, even though she was insistent we didn’t talk about her. But I know Connie’s husband, Beau Granger, had fallen in with drug dealers, and Connie and her kids were swept up because of him. Beau was at the warehouse; he was killed,” she said quietly. “But Beau had almost been in trouble before. Someone had intervened, done something that straightened out the situation. I think it was Susie. And because of it, Connie was pretending all the children were hers, but I don’t think they were.
“Connie was grateful to her.” She closed her eyes, wincing. “She’d just learned Beau had been killed when we were with the police and social workers. And she didn’t say anything, so I didn’t say anything. But Connie is so fragile now. I’m afraid for all the children. I don’t know if what I’m saying is true, but if it is, I felt I had to say it. Susie might have family out there, if she’s not still out there herself. And I’m afraid it’s highly likely Susie isn’t among us anymore. I heard people talking one time. Susie was kept a prisoner because that was worse than death. It was a longer form of torture, but eventually, they would tire of the torture. If she did have family, her family might find happiness with her child—if it is her child. I think that Connie will be honest with you. Whatever happens with her now, she’ll be raising her own kids alone. I’m sure no matter how grateful she might have been to Susie, she will need help now. And one less child is one less child, especially when that child belongs to someone else.”
“What’s the baby’s name and how old?” Jordan asked softly.
“Benjamin. He’s almost two. Our keepers were just our keepers. When people were moved around, we were warned to behave and follow orders. Escape attempts could mean immediate termination. And while they wouldn’t want to do it, they would terminate a group. That meant children, too, I’m pretty sure. Thankfully, I didn’t have a group. Maybe that’s why I was a good choice when they wanted a bullet in someone’s head. At least they wouldn’t have to kill kids.”
“Thank you,” Patrick said. “That’s all very helpful.”
“I don’t know if Connie will just volunteer any information,” Judy said. “I don’t think any of us will ever be right again. I wonder if, even with help from all these different agencies, we’ll ever be able to live without fear again.”
“Time doesn’t heal all wounds,” Patrick said. “But it does ease them. And hopefully, we are getting to the root of all the bad that has happened.”
“Yeah. Hopefully. I found there was never anyone you could trust,” Judy said. “And that’s why I believe Connie hasn’t said anything yet. She’s afraid she’ll speak and one of the agents or social workers will turn into a goon.”
“It’s going to be hard,” Jordan said. “But we understand.”
“Well, I just keep telling myself it’s a miracle that I’m alive.” She paused, wincing. “I was taken because of my brother, Austin Greeley. Pot smoker,” she said dryly. “Selling a little weed seemed like a fine idea—heck, it’s legal in many places now. I had no idea what was going on when they took me. None. At least Austin is alive. He’s still in a coma, but he’s alive. And I just keep hoping and praying that when we’re all relocated, maybe we’ll get to be together and start over. Thankfully, our folks are gone.”
“I’m sure the doctors will do everything possible for your brother,” Jordan said. She was rising. “Thank you, Judy. I know you’re afraid; everyone is afraid. But don’t give them that hold over you. You are alive, and you are free, and you will have the help you need. So get even. Live. Live well.”
Judy smiled at her. “You’re right,” she said softly.
Patrick rose and joined Jordan standing by the door. “We’re going to get on this,” he promised her.
They left Judy and went back to Angela’s office to get Bry-bo.
Angela had heard everything. “So, Susie possibly had a child. And it sounds like she was at the mansion.”
“I think she escaped,” Jordan quickly added.
“But if she escaped, where is she?” Angela asked quietly.
“She’s either hidden somewhere or she’s too afraid to trust anyone. I refuse to believe she’s dead.”
“Well, I did find something,” Angela said.
“What?” Jordan asked anxiously.
“Marie Donnell. I found a Swiss bank account in her name. But the details are fuzzy. The deposits were cash.”
“Can the bank provide us with anything?”
“Do you know much about privacy and Swiss accounts?” Angela asked him dryly.
“Not really—never had one,” Patrick told her. “But if she has been dealing with large amounts of money, then it’s all the more likely she knows the real identity of John Smith.”
“And since she’s so certain she’ll walk now, and she’s all lawyered up and could care less where she’s incarcerated, that would suggest that the puppeteer really is Rory Ayers,” Jordan said.
“She was in it eye-high with him,” Patrick said.
“We need to talk to Connie,” Jordan said. “Alfie has been staying out at the mansion. If Susie was there—dead or alive—in that graveyard, Alfie would have found her,” she said softly.
Jackson appeared in the doorway to Angela’s office.
“Go home,” he said.
“But, Jackson, we’ve just learned—” Jordan began.
“That Susie might have had a child. Even so, that child is fine. I spoke with people I trust with social services and the Marshals office. The children are fine. The parents—or caretakers—are fine. I’ll see to it Connie is here tomorrow morning. You can talk to her then.”
“But—” Jordan began again.
“Whether we see her now or tomorrow, and find out the child is Susie’s, we still won’t be any closer to Susie,” Patrick said.
“I need you rested and sane,” Jackson told her. “Go home. That’s an order. The team at the graveyard have been out there all day. I’ve just ordered them to head home, too. Listen, I know it’s frustrating. But this has been going on for years. We keep cutting heads off a hydra. This time, we’re going to reach the heart of the beast—and make life safe again for dozens of people. But you need to be well rested to be useful, and you can’t ever forget—”
“That the Krewe is a unit, a team, and we all need each other, cover for each other...” Jordan recited.
“And watch one another’s backs,” Patrick finished. “Okay. Jordan, Bry-bo, let’s go.”
She nodded, looking from Jackson to Angela.
“Task force here at eight a.m. sharp,” Jackson said.
“We’ll be here,” Patrick promised.
He absently set a hand on Jordan’s back to lead her out. She didn’t seem to notice; she was deep in thought.
When they were in the car, Patrick said softly, “Susie is alive.”
Jordan was silent, shaking her head.
“You’re thinking if she were alive, she would move heaven and earth to be with her child. That isn’t Susie. She would take herself out of a child’s life if she thought she might bring harm to that child. Susie is out there. But people are still afraid.”
“We are so convinced the man behind everything is Ayers—and yet, if that was true, why is everyone still so scared?”
“First, fear is an emotion that is hard to let go. And second, we don’t know if we’re at the end of it or not. We need to find out more from the ex-wife and the daughter who wasn’t his biological child. There’s money out there.”
“But even if he figured out how to get that money moving while he was in prison, if he’s in a coma, he can’t be conducting any business now,” Jordan said.
“That’s true.”
“So, everyone is afraid of someone under him?”
“That, or he was the second man, or...we’re off entirely.”
Jordan glanced at him. “Are you mind reading?” she asked him. “Is that how you knew I was thinking Susie must be dead if she hasn’t come for her child?”
He shrugged and grinned at her. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m getting to know you. So, what do you want for dinner?”
“You don’t know?” she asked him, a half smile on her lips as she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.
“I’m trying to be polite. And you want delivery because you’re exhausted.”
Her eyes flew open, and she stared at him. “You are—”
“Again, I’m getting to know you,” he cut her off quietly. He gazed her way, grinning. “Of course, you’re also thinking that you want me to stay. I’m incredible, and you’d really love the company,” he teased. “Sexy as all hell, right?”
She started to laugh. “Incredible ego!” she accused him.
But she turned toward him, and she hadn’t stopped grinning. And he suddenly wished they hadn’t worked so hard together, and he hadn’t come to know her mind and the beauty of her passion and care for others.
He was falling in...
Desire, of course. She was stunning, agile, and her eyes could play a million tricks on a man’s soul.
He looked at the road again.
“Dinner. Delivered. And yes,” she said very quietly, “I want you to stay. I don’t feel like eating alone and there might be something...”
“Between us?”
She laughed, but that glittering light was still in her eyes.
“I may think of something that has to do with the case and you’ll be right there, so we can talk it through.”
“But of course!” he said. “All-American. Burgers and fries from somewhere?”
“That will do.”
Bry-bo let out a woof as if he approved.
They were all silent again as Patrick drove the rest of the way to Jordan’s place. It was a fine silence. A comfortable silence. And Patrick felt something he didn’t remember feeling in years.
He felt good. Glad to be in the company of a woman who knew about him, his family, his “strangeness,” and he didn’t need to hide any of it.
Jordan opened the door. The dog rushed in. She turned as Patrick closed the door and wound up flush against him, in his arms as he went to steady her. And to his surprise, she spoke very softly, a silky tone to her voice, and the kind of sensual smile a man ten times stronger couldn’t resist.
“Burgers can wait,” she told him.
Nine
She had to be insane.
It didn’t matter. She didn’t know if their work had just been so intense something needed to break up the racetrack in her mind, or if the impossible had happened. She had accepted the fact she was sexually attracted to Patrick Law; he was a far more decent human being than she had imagined at first. She had found him steadfast, rather incredible, and built, with eyes that were mesmerizing...
What the hell. She was all grown up. Capable of making whatever mistakes she chose.
Because it had to be a mistake...
But the smile he gave her when she said their burgers could wait was enough to send fire sweeping through her. He pulled her closer, body to body, lifting her chin. His mouth covered hers, and the kiss they shared was searing and deep, liquid and wonderful. When he broke away, his eyes were searching hers.
“You couldn’t possibly be reading my mind. I can’t read my own mind right now,” she said.
“I’m reading your body. I’m reading my body, too. Maybe it’s just what we both need—and both want,” he said softly.
His hand curved over the contours of her face and his mouth lowered to hers once again. The kiss was a little slower, a little deeper. When it ended, Jordan leaned her head against his chest.
“Crazy,” she muttered.
“But we are crazy,” he told her.
She looked up at him. It wasn’t an insult of any kind; it was just what they were.
Bry-bo barked.
“Hey! Burgers in a bit!” Patrick said, and he looked at Jordan and asked, “Mind a bit of a romantic?”
She shook her head. He swept her off her feet and headed toward her bedroom, telling the dog, “Watch the front door, boy.”
In her room, he laid her down and stretched out beside her. She smiled and they rolled together, hands now reaching to touch and caress; but something hard slammed against Jordan, and she let out a muffled cry. They realized they were both armed, hadn’t thought to divest themselves of anything, and laughed together as they set their guns and holsters on the bedside tables, kicked off their shoes, and started helping one another shed their clothing, touching, caressing, finding new places for wet kisses as they did so.
Crazy, crazy, crazy.
But so good.
She hadn’t been with anyone in forever; things always fell apart for her, sometimes because she had been so focused on her studies at the academy, and sometimes, because she was so different, she had trouble connecting with others.
But none of that was on her mind now.
Because Patrick was an amazing lover, tender and yet passionate. His lips and tongue were like a delicious, lavalike fire. He moved against her in a way that seemed to awaken her entire being, and she longed for nothing more than to touch in return, to feel the tremor of his muscles, the strength of his body against hers, and feel him moving against her, lower, higher, kisses falling everywhere, intimate and so sensually arousing she might have soared out of her skin.
But it was too good to be in her skin. To let her mind go, and be nothing but a woman with a man who aroused her to amazing heights.
And when they were together at last, moving at a breakneck speed, needing more and more and more, she clung to and savored each second of the amazing physical sensation, and the release that at last seemed to shiver over her with glitters of light and darkness and pure magic. After, she just lay there, her mind returning as she stared up at the ceiling.
“Hey,” he said softly. He was up on an elbow by her side. Their naked flesh still touched. He was smiling when he very tenderly touched her lips. “I am reading your mind right now. Or maybe not. Maybe I’ve come to know you, and you’re worried that maybe we shouldn’t have done this. Maybe it’s not entirely professional, but I know it wasn’t a mistake. Jordan, we work incredibly hard. And we’re good at what we do. We can take a minute to enjoy each other’s company.”
