Captured Innocence (CSA Case Files)

CAPTURED INNOCENCE

CSA Case Files, Book One

Copyright © 2013 Kennedy Layne

DEDICATION

Prologue

Bzzzzz.  Bzzzzz.

Crest reached out for his phone, not even bothering to roll over onto his back.  It took him a few times, but eventually his fingers found the elusive square device.  Holding it up to his face, he squinted at it with one eye.  Who the fuck was calling at four thirty-three in the morning?  He’d just fallen asleep an hour ago.  Ramsey County Jail was being broadcast across the screen.  Groaning a vow to castrate whoever it was, he swiped the bar and held the phone to his ear.

“Who would be dumb enough to call me at this hour
?” Crest grumbled.  “It’s in the middle of the goddamned night.”

“I need your help, Crest.”
 

The background noise of
electronic recording beeps, low voices making similar calls, and the unmistakable sound of a cell door closing had Crest opening both eyes and rolling onto his back.  He recognized his best friend’s voice.  Terry Sweeney sounded hoarse, as if he were attempting to control his emotions.  The room was dark but for a stray halogen ray from one of the city lights that was peeking in through the heavy curtains shrouding his bedroom window.  He swung his feet over the side of the mattress and sat up, running his hand through his brown hair. He paid little attention to the brunette sleeping behind him.

“You’ve got my attention
, T.”

“
I’ve been arrested,” Terry said. The desperation in his voice was evident. That was soon washed away by some kind of utterance, communicating untold grief.  The pain pouring through the phone was tangible.  It sat on your chest and squeezed the breath from you.  For the first time, Crest heard his best friend sob. “Marilyn’s been murdered.  I-I found her t-tied up and –”

Crest
felt like he’d been punched in the gut.  Marilyn Sweeney was dead – murdered.  A montage started in his head of all the good times they’d had over the years.  Granted, the marriage had been a little strained lately, but Terry and Marilyn were the ones that he would have bet his last dollar on could make a marriage last a lifetime, especially with Terry’s childhood experience.  His best friend’s wife was dead.  Fuck.  Taking a deep breath, he mentally categorized what he would need to accomplish in the short term. Crest reached down for his black dress pants. 

“They think I did it, Crest.”

“Have you made any statements?”  Crest snatched his shirt off of the chair in the corner, shaking it out as Terry answered him.  He held his phone between his shoulder and ear as he shrugged one arm into the sleeve.  “I’ll be there in twenty.  You listen to me carefully, T.  Not one more fucking word.  No matter what they promise or how they bait you, you clam up until I get you an attorney.”

“She’s dead,” Terry whispered, as if his world had fallen apart. 
Crest knew it had.  “What will I do without her?”

“Just
keep quiet,” Crest advised, reaching for his keys on the nightstand.  He shoved them in his pocket and started looking around to confirm he hadn’t left anything important.  “I’ll find out who did this.  You have my word.”

Crest
disconnected the call and stood there for a few moments to gain some clarity.  Images of Terry and Marilyn throughout the last few years played over in his head.  He had no doubt that his friend wasn’t capable of any kind of domestic violence and the police were barking up the wrong tree.  He was convenient and since when wasn’t the husband a prime suspect?  They just snatched up the most expedient person.  They didn’t know Terry like he did.

He stood staring at the floor while he wrapped his mind around this tragic event.  Crest brought his hand up and ran his fingers
over his close-cropped hair.  Making a swift decision, he swiped the bar across the bottom of his phone once more.  Crest sent a simple text to his team, instructing them to be at the office at eight o’clock this morning.  Having hand-picked five of his best colleagues that he’d come across during his time in the service, he had made sure that Crest Security Agency was staffed to exceed excellence.  The team consisted of four men, one woman, and his personal assistant.  With Terry’s rushed arrest, it was looking as if they had their work cut out for them.

“Crest?”

He turned around.  Shit.  Crest had forgotten about…hell, he couldn’t even remember her name.  Her sultry figure was barely covered by the thin white sheet.  The crevice of her ass caught the false beam shining through from the outside world, highlighting her best asset.  His gaze traveled up the arc of her back, landing on her long brown curls that obscured her pillow.  She was better than most of his recent encounters.  He gave up trying to remember her name and looked around for his jacket. It was over by the bedroom door.  He retrieved it and shrugged into the coat, all the while looking for his tie.  It was nowhere to be found.  He’d have to go without. 

“
I’ve gotta go.  Listen, help yourself to breakfast in the morning.  I’m sure there’s something edible in the fridge.” Gavin opened the door, other things weighing on his mind. She’d find her way out without too much trouble. “I’ll call you.”

Chapter One

Connor
Ortega felt like hammered shit.  Saturday was supposed to have been his day off, but for Crest to request the presence of the entire team, even he knew to drag his ass out of the rack.  Keeping his aviator mirrored sunglasses on, he opened the door to Crest Security Agency.  The firm’s logo was situated front and center in between the dark, exposed beams jutting out of the ceiling.  It reminded him that he needed to square his ass away. Work was exactly what he needed.

L
aughter and low murmurs came from the heart of the office and he suppressed a groan as the truncated noises caused his head to hurt.  Jessie wasn’t at her desk, so he walked through the large, unlit open area filled with cubicles until he reached the conference room.  Jax, Kevin, Ethan, and Taryn were all congregated around the heavy oval table.  The throbbing in his temples became worse upon entering the brightly lit room, regardless that his shades kept the light to a minimum.

The
CSA office was situated in the warehouse district of Minneapolis.  It wasn’t as upscale as the buildings that were located deeper into the heart of the city, but the team liked it that way.   Connor felt comfortable in his jeans, long-sleeved pullover gray shirt, and brown bomber jacket he’d thrown on instead of having to wear a conservative suit as the men did in the upper scale structures.  He pulled a matching battered Marines baseball cap lower on his forehead as he crossed the threshold.

“You do realize
that you’re inside a building, right, Ortega?  Who’re you trying to impress with those shades?”

Conno
r flipped Kevin the bird, not slowing down until he reached the coffee pot on a small metal table in the back.  Someone had made the crap GI style — thick as mud.  Since no one was clutching their chests from the swill, he figured that was a good enough sign.  He slipped one of the Styrofoam cups off of the stack and poured the hot liquid until it was ready to overflow. 

“He
just doesn’t want Crest to know that he was banging the state senator’s daughter last night,” Jax said, joining in the laughter.

On one hand, he knew that Jax was covering for him.  On the other, i
f they knew that he’d been at some dive bar up until the damn thing closed, they probably wouldn’t have believed him.  Hell, he hadn’t fucked a woman in months – not that he’d tell them that.  Maybe that was his problem and he needed to get his ass back in the saddle.  As it was, he kept letting the memory of a cheating, vile woman keep him from moving on with his life.  He knew better than to think he was cut out for a long-term relationship.  All women eventually cashed out.  Hadn’t his mother taught him that?  He needed to grow a pair of balls.  He disgusted even himself.

“Didn’t you hear?”
Kevin motioned with his hand and tongue in cheek at the same time.  “The senator’s daughter was caught giving head to the Love Drive’s drummer over at First Avenue.  It was all over the press last week.  She dumped Connor’s ass a while ago.”

“Ignore these fuckers,” Taryn said, holding out two ibuprofens
as Connor took the seat next to her.  Her short, spiky blonde hair fit her personality to a T.  Her body was tight and she had a small heart-shaped ass that rivaled no other.  Too bad she was like a sister to them.  “Here. This should help get you through the meeting, at least.”

Connor’s head was
now pounding and he gratefully took the pills.  Tossing them back, he ignored the burn of the hot liquid as he washed them down.  As much as they all bullshitted with each other, they were a close-knit group and had each other’s six.  He tried to remember that as they continued to needle him.  After all, they were all sharks and there was blood in the water.  It just happened to be his.

They were all private investigators working under Crest
for the Crest Security Agency. The only main prerequisite was that they had to have had a military background and that they could pass muster with Crest personally.  There wasn’t a thing about their personal and professional lives that Crest wasn’t privy to.  The same couldn’t be said in return, as Gavin Crest was a very private man.

Conno
r and Jax had been in the same infantry unit, putting in their twelve years with the Marines before Crest offered them the lives they were living now. They had jumped at the chance. Kevin had also been a grunt, but his honorable discharge came sooner than he’d wanted when he’d been wounded during a combat tour over in Afghanistan.  The military didn’t want a man if his body contained too many pins, plates, and screws apparently.  Ethan was the youngest, having only done one enlistment as a comms tech.  It was Taryn who was the odd one out.  Not only was she a woman — she was former Navy Intel.

“So, what are we here for?” Connor
asked, his voice still gravelly from the amount of alcohol he‘d consumed.  He really couldn’t remember how much he drank.  “Did you jack-offs do something that pissed off Crest?  I know for a fact that I’m the golden child since I closed that cold case for him.”

“Don’t know,” Jax said, tossing one of those yellow stress balls across the table to Kevin.  “
I know I didn’t do anything beyond my normal bullshit.  I’ve been working for that Hill woman chasing her cheating husband over half the county.  I’ve got the photos to prove it and all I need to do now is to schedule a sit-down with the wife.  She’s going to toast his ass in court; that is if he lives long enough to make the court appearance.”

“
We all got a text that said to be here by eight o’clock,” Taryn said, sipping on her own cup of coffee.  Her black-rimmed glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of her nose.  “Here we are.”

“Did
Jennifer Lynn really get caught giving head over at First Avenue?” Ethan asked, still on the previous conversation.  He looked back and forth between the team members, as if gauging their responses.  “I did some work for her father.  She didn’t seem like that type of girl when I was fucking her.”

“Ethan
, they’re yanking your dick,” Connor said, pulling his cap lower on his forehead.  Why were these lights so goddamn bright?  “I tied one on last night, that’s all.  We were supposed to have the weekend off, remember?”

“Didn’t t
he corps teach you anything, Ortega?”

Connor
looked up to see Gavin Crest walk through the conference room door.  Even though his suit was rumpled, his tie was missing, and he looked just as bad as Connor felt—he commanded their respect.  Crest tossed a folder onto the table, garnering everyone’s attention.  Business it was.

Crest had a rough exterior and wasn’t what one would call handsome, although Connor had heard
many women refer to him as just that. Connor didn’t see it, but hey, whatever floats their boat.  Taryn had, on occasion, said that Crest reminded her of the actor Daniel Craig, but Connor thought Taryn must be fishing for a bonus.  Craig was a pretty boy actor—Crest was the real fucking deal.  His legacy in the corps was what you might imagine a Master Sergeant to be.  He had paid the price many times over and that marked a man.  His bearing betrayed him for who he was. It was hard to miss.

“Always
expect the plan to go FUBAR ten seconds into the mission, Crest,” Connor answered, after clearing his throat.  He always did like the meaning behind the acronym — fucked up beyond all recognition.  That’s what he felt like at the moment, too.  Connor took his sunglasses off and tossed them on the table, barely repressing the need to squint at the artificial light.  “What have you got for us?  We’re all present, for the most part.”

“It’s a
murder case.  I didn’t call Jessie.  She doesn’t need to be here,” Crest said, referring to his personal assistant.  Connor didn’t find that too odd, considering that everyone was privy to the underlying tension between them lately.  It wouldn’t surprise Connor if Jessie quit sometime soon.  Crest shrugged off his jacket and draped it across the back of his chair.  “Listen up.  Whatever cases you’re working on, I want you to brief Ethan no later than this afternoon.  He’s taking over all open cases until further notice.”

Connor slugged
more coffee, exchanging glances with his fellow teammates.  Whatever happened to cause Crest to hand off paying clients to the youngest man on the team had to have been beyond the normal shit sandwich.  Jax caught the yellow stress ball that Kevin had thrown back to him and closed it in his fist.  He noticed that Ethan was now sitting a little straighter as well.  Taryn was leaning forward, recording notes in her tablet.

“As you know, I’m
good friends with Terry Sweeney.”  Crest opened the folder and threw six photos on the table.  The entire team leaned forward to see what the images had captured – and they were heinous.  Connor knew who she was before her name was ever said.  Son-of-a-bitch.  He’d personally seen her at the clubs around town, but that had been many months ago.  “His wife, Marilyn, was murdered last night.  She was tied up, tortured to death, and then left that way for her husband to find.  Unfortunately, Terry panicked and tried to cut her loose.”

“It’s a n
ormal reaction for the uninitiated,” Connor said, grateful that the caffeine he was drinking was finally kicking in.  The pictures had enough of an effect that he felt sober anyway.  He took a finger and pulled a photo toward him.  What a bloody mess.  “It’s a damn good thing they didn’t have children.  I take it the police questioned him?  I know he’s your friend, Crest, but can you be sure that he
didn’t
do it?”

“I’m sure.”  Crest’s voice broke no argument and Connor decided that he’d speak with
him when they had a moment of privacy.  The information that Connor was privy to…he wasn’t so sure that Crest would want revealed to the team.  It was rare that cases crossed into Crest’s personal territory.  “That didn’t stop the police from arresting him.  I have a meeting with the Lieutenant in around an hour.”

“What evidence do they have?” Taryn asked.

“Terry said he pulled out the knife that was in her side when he found her. He used it to cut the ropes, thinking he could save her.  Remember, he’s a surgeon.  Unfortunately, she was already dead.  His DNA is everywhere and as we all know, it’ll be a while before we have additional reports to confirm someone else committed the murder.  After questioning Terry at the residence, Detective Morrison felt his answers were enough to warrant an arrest.”

“
That’s one way to fuck up a crime scene,” Connor said, referring to the fact that Terry had not only pulled the knife out of his wife’s dead body, but then tried to use the murder weapon to cut her loose.  He knew that Crest had contacts inside the police forensics lab where initial tests would be run.  They’d be given a copy upon completion, along with the initial crime reports, the scene workups and any interviews that the police may have done.  “Crest, do you recognize these knots?”

The only other person in the room besides Crest
who probably knew what Connor was referring to was Jax.  Connor and Jax belonged to a couple of clubs around the city that catered to the kinkier side, not that he’d been playing lately.  The BDSM community was tight and he’d wanted to steer clear of it until
she
got her ass out of town.  He caught Jax’s eye and knew his friend recognized the woman in the picture as well.  Marilyn Sweeney had been caught up in the lifestyle.

“Yes
.  The knots and style are very intricate.  The killer is obviously well versed in shibari.”  Crest leaned back in his chair.  His green eyes surveyed his team and waited for everyone to settle down before detailing more information.  “Let me give you an overview of their life.  Terry and Marilyn dabbled in BDSM.  They usually played at home, but occasionally they would attend the members only nights at the two clubs they frequented—Masters is one, Whip is the other.  I already know what you’re thinking, Connor.  Terry was up front with me regarding Marilyn’s desire for club play.  I know that she went by herself quite a bit and although that added several layers of tension between them, he didn’t kill her.”

If Crest said Terry didn’t kill his wife, then that was good enough for Connor.  He nodded his head and looked over at Jax.  His friend didn’t quite seem to be in agreement, but Connor was sure that Jax
wouldn’t trust a Jesuit priest at this point. Jax hadn’t been the same since their last combat tour.  The table conversation turned his attention back to the case at hand.

“Where was Terry during the time of the murder
?” Kevin asked, taking one of the photos.  “You said he came home to find her.  I’m assuming it was their bedroom?”

“Yes, he found her in their bedroom,” Crest replied.  His eyes were bloodshot and Connor winced when he rubbed his eyes.  “
Terry had flown in from Chicago earlier in the evening – around eight-thirty.  He said that Marilyn had mentioned she was stopping by Masters, so he swung by there first.  From what I’m being told, she wasn’t there.  He stayed to talk to some friends and watch a suspension scene for about an hour.  He then came home to this.”

Crest had waved his hand over the photos.  Connor did the math in his head. 
Crest said that Terry had arrived at the airport at eight-thirty last night.  He gave the man thirty minutes to get through the airport and collect his luggage, then ten minutes to walk to his car.  Terry would have taken at least twenty minutes to drive into the city.  An hour at the club would put the time at around eleven at night.