Against the Rules (12 page)

Absently, he rubbed his cheek with a pair of her panties. He’d taken several pairs as memorabilia. One he draped on the corner of his video equipment. Another adorned a shackle dangling from the ceiling in preparation for his guest of honor to arrive. It wouldn’t be long now. A week at most.

He should have run a feed into the closet. She’d been in there a long time. He’d have to remember it was a favorite place of hers. Perhaps he’d make his special. Just for her.

Oh, they were getting close.
He was wondering how long it would take them. The police had photographed his masterpiece from every conceivable angle. He should have brought a camera. The video didn’t capture its true beauty.

He moved the panties to his cock and began to stroke as the doll head rolled from the body.
This was it,
he thought with budding excitement. But no. They had to take more pictures. Expletives flew from his mouth as his patience wore thin. He dropped his cock and ran the panties over the stubble along his jaw.

Wondering what the other officers were up to, he switched cameras and watched a detective place the robe in an evidence bag. Automatically, his hand moved to the swatch of fabric he’d removed. He had big plans for that. Morning after morning she had wrapped herself in that robe shielding her boobs from his view. Well, not anymore.

He knew her every move. He knew what made her happy and what made her sad. He knew how to please her and just how to punish her. That’s why he’d gone for the doll. He knew she loved it. Every morning on her way from the bathroom to the closet to get dressed for work, she would look over her shoulder and gaze fondly at the doll. Sometimes she would stop. Her hand would reach out like she wanted to touch it, but she never did.

She shouldn’t have spent the weekend away. He enjoyed their time together. He didn’t want to have to punish her, but she had given him no choice. In time, she would learn.

Again, he switched cameras and just in time too. One of the cops reached a gloved hand into the hollow neck cavity of the doll and retrieved his message. It had come to him like a vision as he’d torn the head off.

The video didn’t do it justice, but it didn’t matter. He knew what it said…

Pop! goes the weasel.

* * * *

NBIA Chief Patrick Donley had the reputation of being a fair man. His military background was apparent in his methodical approach. He was level-headed, with above average intelligence. The men who worked for him considered themselves lucky. He looked at all sides of a situation before drawing conclusions, yet acted swiftly. A rare thing indeed in any government bureaucracy. Those who had formed said opinion had never seen him concerned for his daughter’s welfare or their opinion would have been immensely different. And he didn’t give a fuck.

“Chantel! Answer me, damn it!” Chief bellowed, red-faced and terror stricken.

Since Chief Donley had received the phone call from a colleague in the local police department, he’d been trying unsuccessfully to reach his daughter on her cell phone. His driver, Sid, drove the distance to her home in record time, but it felt like an eternity.

His daughter’s street was lined with vehicles, but Sid jumped the curb and parked on the lawn. Before the car was even in park, the chief was out of the door and pushing his way into the house, roaring Chantel’s name the whole way.

“I’m here, Dad.” Chantel meekly raised her arm to let him know she was sitting on the couch.

The chief took one look at his always perfectly coiffed daughter huddled on the couch, clothes and hair damp, looking for all the world like the devastated little girl he’d fished out of a stream when she was eight years old, and lost it.

Coming around the corner of the couch, he shoved the officer blocking his path. In hindsight, the chief realized that the only thing the officer saw was a crazed man bursting through the doorway with other officers clamoring behind him. When the local cop went for his service pistol, he should have drawn his badge. Instead, instinct took over. Both he and Chantel had him within their sights before the officer’s weapon ever left the holster. Pride surged forward, easing a degree of the terror that had ridden him so hard.

“Drop it, pinhead,” the chief muttered, annoyed with the entire situation. With his left hand he flashed his badge. “Donley. Fed.”

“I don’t care who the hell you are…” the officer began.

“Stand down, Peterson,” the officer in charge ordered.

Both Donleys holstered their weapons once the officer had lowered his.

“Leave us,” the chief commanded, staring at his daughter and ignoring the byplay between the locals.

“Chief, I’m Captain Jeff Bell, the officer in charge.”

Chief didn’t give a fuck. He wanted to make sure his daughter was unharmed.

“Sir, I can understand your concern, but we are conducting an investigation. We can’t just leave the premises.”

The chief took a deep, ragged breath, ran a hand through his full head of white hair and nodded once.

Chantel watched as her father wrapped his grizzled, shaky hand around her arm. Suddenly, she wanted the buffoon, Bell, back. His grilling was kid’s play compared to what her father could dish out. She’d scared her dad enough to lose his composure, something he rarely did. Oh, was she ever in for it. She should have just called him and faced the music immediately. Of course, someone had ratted her out. He had informants everywhere.

He led her to a back bedroom and, from Chantel’s point of view,
away from any witnesses
. She wasn’t exactly afraid of her father. He loved her with all his heart. She did, however, fear disappointing him. If he ever found out that she had spent the weekend with a man she’d just met, it would crush him. In his eyes, she would forever be his little girl.

This bedroom was decorated in a bright yellow color, but it did nothing to lighten the mood. She scooted to the back of the daybed and pulled a frilly lace pillow to snuggle for comfort, while her dad paced the length of the room.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

It broke her heart to hear him sound so utterly tired and weary.

“No, Dad. I’m fine. Some sicko broke in and went through my things.”

“Actually, sir, there was no sign of a break-in.”

The tension jacked up a notch as her father spun around and stared menacingly at the detective.

“Perhaps, Officer Bell, you didn’t realize I wish to speak to my daughter in private.” Each syllable was pronounced with clarity, ensuring that even the most dense human on the planet could understand him.

“Yes, sir. But Ms. Donley has been less than forthcoming during our investigation. I have a number of unanswered questions. I was hoping you might get a more detailed account than I did.”

“After I have spoken with my daughter
in private
, I will be happy to confer with you.”

Bell dipped his head and left the room.

Maybe he wasn’t quite as dumb as she’d suspected. Her dad had friends in very high places. He golfed with the mayor.

“As you were saying?” her father encouraged her to continue.

“There isn’t much to tell, Dad. Some sicko
got into the house
and went through my things.”

“Do you know how they got in?” he asked regaining a part of his usual calm.

“No.”

“Was the alarm tripped?”

“No.”

“Chantel, was the alarm set?”

He knew she was slack at times when it came to safety and was on her all the time about it. “I’m not sure,” she answered honestly.

“Chan-tel,” her father growled in frustration.

She shrugged. There wasn’t anything to be done about it now. She only hoped that the security company would eventually be able to tell them it was set. Otherwise, she would never hear the end of it.

“Where were you when this occurred? You weren’t here, were you?” His raised eyebrows bespoke his concern.

“I was with a friend.”

“Which one?” he asked.

She hedged.

“Chantel, don’t be difficult. Who were you with?”

“What does it matter, Dad? I know you. If I give you their name, you’re going to have them investigated. You’re going to look into every aspect of their life and for what? If I was with them, they obviously didn’t do this.”

Her dad gave her a knowing look. “What’s his name?”

“Forget it, Dad.”

“Normally I appreciate your stubbornness, but not this time.” He gave her a warning look. “Sweetheart…” He paused, raking his hand through his hair. “I can understand your protective streak, it’s commendable. But I will eventually find out. You know that. When it comes to your safety, there is no backing up. There’s no letting it go. You might as well make it easier on both of us and just tell me.”

“No, Dad. Not this time.”

“Chantel,” he warned, using his ‘seasoned agents quake in my presence’ voice. “This…man could have been a decoy used to get you out of the way so someone else could do this. You never suspect anyone of having an ulterior motive. You only see the good in people. Your mom was the same way.” He shook his head. “This man you were with… It’s possible he isn’t even aware of it.”

“No, Dad. He isn’t involved in this,” she answered with complete conviction.

Turning, her dad left the room. She knew he was afraid of saying something he’d regret. He probably figured he’d get his answers whether she cooperated or not. This time, for Reese’s sake, she hoped he didn’t.

* * * *

Teague found himself turning into Channy’s neighborhood. He couldn’t help it. It was stupid and dangerous. He should stay as far away from her as possible until Foster, his previous handler, got him the hell out of here, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t very proud of himself.

As he turned down her road, his stomach bottomed. Police cars lined the street, a few unmarked, but who did they think they were fooling? A local news crew mobile unit was stationed a few doors down.

Before he could think better of it, Teague was out of the car, had hurdled over the yellow warning tape and passed several cops. “Channy?” he yelled from the doorway.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her coming down the hall and rushed to her.

He cradled her head against his heart, relieved that she was in one piece. Before he could ask any questions, he felt her body shudder and her tears wetted his shirt.

Once Teague found his voice, he set her back just far enough to scan her from head to toe. “Are you okay?”

Chief Donley forcibly pulled them apart before she could answer. “You?” he shouted in recognition. “Get your damn hands off my daughter.”

“Daughter?” Teague asked, looking from Channy to the old man. It took him a minute to realize that he knew the blowhard. The memory brought a flood of emotion. Son of a bitch! Donley. Chantel
Donley
. Fuck. He shook his head at the utter absurdity of it all. Chief Patrick Donley, the prick who’d stolen his life.

Chantel nodded as she asked unnecessarily, “You two know each other?”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” Teague replied with enough sarcasm that everyone within earshot knew his feelings on the matter.

“You’re in law enforcement?” she asked incredulously.

Both he and Donley answered at the same time and in similar tones, “
No!
”

“What the hell are you doing with my daughter?” the chief demanded.

Teague bit back the answer that first came to mind. He wouldn’t use Channy as his means of revenge. “Trying to get the hell away from her, but according to Seaver, it isn’t in the budget.”

Surprise flickered across Donley’s face. “Watch your mouth. My daughter isn’t used to that type of language. And have no fear, I’ll see to your immediate transfer personally. I hear purgatory is wonderful this time of year.”

Teague shook his head. Somehow, he didn’t think Donley meant Purgatory, Utah. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t have cared less where he went. Well, on the bright side, that was one problem solved. The old man would probably have him on a plane that very night. “Isn’t it amazing how your ‘budget’ problems are no longer an issue?”

“Hello? Remember me? Apparently, I’m the only one not in the loop. Would someone please fill me in?” Chantel asked with her hands on her hips and foot tapping out an impatient order.

“It’s not important.” Teague waved his hand as if it were of no consequence. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, thank you very much, and it sure as hell
is
important.” She grabbed both men by their arms and pulled them into the back bedroom. She pushed her father toward the desk chair and Teague onto the daybed. “Now, spill it. And don’t give me any of the ‘need to know’ crap either. Because I
will know
before either one of you leaves this room.”

Teague met Donley’s gaze and both men chuckled. Channy was freaking amazing. He loved her fire.

“I think we’ve just been told off,” her father mused aloud.

“Good and proper!” Teague agreed.

“None of that! You two will not gang up on me and leave me wondering what the heck is going on.”

“Chantel… It’s a matter of security.”

“Give me a break, Dad. I am not a security risk and you know it.”

This time it was Donley who initiated the eye contact with Teague. “Reese has done some…contract work for the agency.”

“And?” she demanded.

“And it has nothing to do with you so drop it, young lady.”

Teague sat back and tried to get a handle on what was going on. Had he heard right? “So this has nothing to do with me?” he asked the chief.

“I doubt it,” the chief conceded grudgingly.

Relief on many different levels flooded his mind and soul. He hadn’t caused whatever this was and obviously she wasn’t a plant being used to determine his whereabouts. Donley knew where to find him. When he was sure that his voice wouldn’t shame him, he tried again. “Channy, tell me what happened.”

She looked back and forth between the two men. No doubt she was plotting something. “We’re not done with this. I want you to know that.”

When he nodded, she decided to answer his question. “Some pervert got in and went through my things.” A moment later her face turned crimson.