Fatal Secrets (25 page)

“The second victim was killed with a different gun
and
likely a different killer,” Sonia continued. “The second victim was six foot two inches and his killer was about the same size. He wasn’t dead when he hit the water. He drowned, though the two gunshot wounds would have been fatal.”

Dean said, “So our top guy has a henchman? That makes sense.”

“There’s more. The knife used to kill Greg Vega is unique. In fact, though the company has several factories around the world and in the United States, this particular knife is only manufactured in Argentina.”

Sam Callahan said, “Please tell me there were custom initials or engraving that leads directly to the owner.”

Sonia glanced at him. “We’re lucky, but not
that
lucky.”

“How are we lucky? Are we going to be able to get the database of buyers from the company? In the U.S., sure, but in another country?”

“I sent an email to my boss to work on it,” Sonia said. “But here’s the big news: the knife used in the hospital attack on Officer Riley Knight, my brother, is almost identical to the knife recovered from Vega. The same company, and only made in Argentina. Which means that Ann, the Jane Doe at the hospital, is connected to
this case.”

Suddenly, Sonia yelped and everyone stared at her. Dean crossed over to her, but even his commanding presence couldn’t stop the fear from invading every cell
in her body. “Andres. Andres is connected to Jones, and he’s from Argentina. What if the killers are looking for him? He’s at my parents’ house. Oh, God—”

Sonia had never been so relieved to see anyone than when she ran into her parents’s house and saw them sitting at the kitchen table with Andres, their German shepherd curled at their feet. They were playing cards, but both Owen and Marianne looked strained after Sonia’s phone call. Owen wore his holster and gun, which he hadn’t put on since he’d retired five years ago.

She hugged all three of them in turn. “Okay. Okay.” She took a deep breath.

Dean stepped into the kitchen. “The grounds are clear.”

“Did you meet FBI Agent Dean Hooper at the hospital yesterday?” Sonia asked her parents.

“Briefly,” Owen said. He extended his hand. “Owen Knight. My wife, Marianne. And Andres.”

“Pleased to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances.”

Owen asked, “Are you sure you’re not overreacting, Sonia? From what you said you’re making some huge leaps to arrive at the conclusion that we’we in danger.”

“I don’t care if the risk is less than one percent, that’that still too great with people like this.” Sonia scratched the German shepherd’shepherd ears. Sarge sensed she was tense and stood beside her like a sentry. Petting him calmed her,
and in response the former K-9 relaxed as well. She wished she had a dog, but with her erratic hours she’she feel guilty leaving a pet home alone.

“I called in a bodyguard,” Sonia said. When her dad was about to protest, she put her hand up. “Please, Dad. This is serious. The next forty-eight hours are going to heat up. With Riley out of commission and Max in Afghanistan, there’s no one else here to keep an eye out. His name is Duke Rogan. He’s the brother of a friend of mine.”

“Rogan,” Owen said flatly. “You mean Kane Rogan.”

Sonia’s father had never liked Kane, nor did he approve of his daughter’s longtime friendship with him. Kane was a man who, like Charlie Cammarata, had forged his own path in the world and played by no one’s rules. The difference, a crucial difference, was that Kane Rogan never put anyone but himself at risk.

Owen Knight believed absolutely in the rule of law. He didn’t like that Kane had influence over Sonia.

Sonia trusted few people, but Kane was on her list. When she’d called Duke Rogan as Dean sped through the streets from FBI headquarters to her parents’ house, Duke had said, “Kane told me you might call, and that if you did I was to drop everything. I’m at your service, fair lady.”

A knock on the door interrupted the tension. Dean offered to answer it and left the kitchen.

“Dad,” Sonia said quietly, “Kane is one of the good guys. I wouldn’t trust him if he weren’t, you know that.”

Marianne spoke up. “Your dad is just concerned about the long-distance relationship. When you love someone who won’t give up his career to be with you—”

“What?” Sonia exclaimed. “You think—” and she
laughed. God, it felt good to laugh. Maybe she laughed a little too hard, a little too long, but it was either laugh or be worn down by the intensity of facing the potential threat to her family by a ruthless killer who had already killed four people, including her informant.

Dean walked in with two men.

One looked like a younger version of Kane Rogan—in fact, much like the Kane Sonia had met ten years ago. But it was the older, taller Rogan, with hair so deeply red it could have been mistaken for dark brown, who had to be Duke Rogan. His bright blue eyes were framed by laugh lines that became more pronounced when he smiled at Sonia’s laughter, revealing the same solitary Rogan dimple that the darker, brooding Kane also had.

“Duke?” Sonia said, extending her hand.

Duke took her hand, but pulled her into a hug. “Kane speaks highly of you,” he said. “And as you know, he doesn’t praise widely.”

“I can attest to that,” the other man said.

Sonia turned to the black-haired Rogan. He must be the youngest Rogan brother “Sean?”

“At your service.” He smiled, with two dimples, and gave a slight bow.

Duke said, “I thought under the circumstances two bodyguards were better than one.”

“I really appreciate your help.”

Duke shook Owen’s hand, then Marianne’s and finally Andres’s. Andres was overwhelmed and trembling. Sonia spoke to him softly in Spanish. “It’s going to be okay. These are my friends. They’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“How is this going to work?” Owen asked, still standing, trying, Sonia realized, to keep authority and
control over his house. She felt awful that she’d never fully explained her relationship with Kane to her parents, but she’d never thought to. That her dad had believed she was pining for an unattainable mercenary made her realize how little about her personal life she shared with him, not that there was much to tell.

Sonia appreciated that Duke had assessed the situation quickly and correctly, and said, “Sir, I think you should walk me through the house, pointing out the strengths and weaknesses of your home security. I’d like Sean to stay upstairs with your wife and the boy, and you and I can monitor the perimeter.”

Owen nodded. “Our alarm system is a good one,” he said.

“Terrific. Security systems are my specialty. I’m not a full-time bodyguard, only when asked by friends of the family.” He winked at Sonia. While he could act serious, Sonia realized that Duke was far more fun-loving than his older brother. “In fact, my primary responsibility with our company—Rogan-Caruso Protective Services—is providing electronic security to local businesses. I designed the systems for the university as well as the new biotech research lab in Auburn. I might have a few tricks to beef up your alarm system for the duration.”

“I heard about that lab.” Owen sounded both impressed and interested.

Sonia breathed easier. “You have my contact information. I’m headed home because we have an early day tomorrow.”

“It’s already after eight. You haven’t stopped working in days,” Marianne said. “I kept some stew on the stove. Please let me warm it up for you and Agent Hooper.”

“Mom, you don’t—” she saw the determined look on her mother’s face. “Okay.” She glanced at Dean. He was looking at her … oddly. As if he could see under her professional shield. She cleared her throat, feeling scrutinized and suddenly nervous. “My mom is a terrific cook.”

“I’m famished,” Dean said and sat down. He picked up the deck of cards. “What are you playing?”

“We were teaching Andres crazy eights.”

Dean smiled. “How about five-card draw?” He turned to Andres and said to him in Spanish, “Would you like to learn how to play poker?”

Andres’s eyes lit up. “I know how to play poker.”

“Well, let’s get a game on.”

Owen Knight left the room for a moment and came back with a box of poker chips. “A penny a chip.”

“You’ve gotten cheap, Dad,” Sonia said.

“We have federal law enforcement in the kitchen, I don’t want to be under indictment for illegal gambling.”

“I’ll grant you immunity tonight,” Dean said.

Dean watched Sonia interact with her family. She was still a bit on edge, but the events of the day, starting with Charlie Cammarata breaking into her house at three-thirty that morning, had to have worn her down. The adrenaline from the fear for her family had been replaced by relief, and now she was simply exhausted. But content. She seemed to draw both strength and comfort from the Knights. He’d seen how close she was to her brother, Riley, and now he realized that Sonia was all business, all the time, except when she was with her family.

She wasn’t playing cards with them, but stood at the counter and ate stew, chatting with Sean Rogan who
was young—maybe twenty-two, twenty-three. Duke Rogan sat with Owen, Dean, and the ten-year-old Andres as they played a couple rounds of five-card draw.

Dean had a good childhood, but he wasn’t particularly close with his family. His dad died years ago; his brother, now married, lived in San Diego, three thousand miles from Dean’s home in D.C. He and Will had been pals growing up, but time and distance and demanding careers had separated them. Then their mother relocated to Florida and spent half the year traveling with her seniors’ group. They connected in person once or twice a year, and Dean had thought that was good enough.

Seeing Sonia with her family made him realize that it wasn’t. He should have made more of an effort to stay in contact with Will. The last time Dean had seen his brother was over a year ago, at his wedding. Dean had taken a week’s vacation, but cut it short by two days because of a break in one of his cases. That was two days he could have spent with his brother.

He envied the closeness Sonia had with her family. And he certainly now saw her in a different light. This smiling, relaxed Sonia was the Sonia hidden inside the fiery, passionate ICE agent. When she let her hair down, she was happy. Because she had her family to support and love her come hell or high water.

Dean caught Sonia watching him playing poker. He couldn’t read her mind, but she didn’t avert her eyes. He was drawn to her in ways he shouldn’t be thinking about, physically attracted but also with feelings that went deeper than lust. Feelings he shouldn’t be experiencing. She was a colleague, not a potential girlfriend. Still, he couldn’t help that he was seriously attracted.

Sonia Knight was beautiful, but she was also far more than a pretty face and hot body. She was smart and dedicated and driven. She didn’t let up on the job, she didn’t pretend to be anything but what she was. She had confidence, but in that confidence she was able to listen to others and allow others to help. Yet there was a vulnerability inside that showed itself only when she was worried. About Ann in the hospital, or the Vegas, or her family.

Her mouth parted slightly, full lips begging to be kissed. She glanced away with a hint of a blush tinting her tan, regal cheeks. What was she thinking? The same private thoughts that Dean had? That he wanted to be alone with her? That he wanted to touch her? He wanted to do more than touch her.

Her profile was elegant, aristocratic. Her nose long and slender, her neck even longer. Her large breasts were barely restrained beneath her standard black T-shirt. She’d taken off her light jacket; it was draped over a kitchen stool. Her stomach was flat, her waist narrow, and her long, long legs encased in well-worn, fitted jeans.

Ignoring the cards in his hand, Dean soaked all of her in. He noted that though Sonia was relaxed, she hadn’t stopped moving, a bundle of nervous energy. She helped her mother rinse out the bowls and put the remainder of the stew away, then wiped down the counters, though to Dean they looked clean enough to eat on. And when that was done, she grabbed a broom from the cabinet and swept the hardwood floor.

He wondered if she ever stopped moving, even when she slept. He wondered if he’d get a chance to find out.

She caught him staring again.

“I think you just lost to a ten-year-old,” she said with a smirk.

Dean returned his focus to the game. Andres was grinning, as were Duke and Owen. “Full house, right?” said the young card shark.

“Sure is.” Dean pushed his chips over to Andres. “Well, I’m out. We have a long day tomorrow. The stew was delicious, Mrs. Knight.”

“Thank you, Agent Hooper. You’re welcome anytime.”

Duke walked outside with Sonia and Dean. “Don’t worry about your family,” Duke told Sonia. “I’ll keep them safe.”

“Thank you,” she answered, though Dean knew she’d continue to worry until this case was over.

“No thanks necessary.” Duke took her hands in his and said with intensity, “You be careful, too. Kane said these people are vicious.”

“I’m always careful,” Sonia said.

“And I have her back,” Dean added, not quite sure what the relationship was between Sonia and the Rogans—specifically, the elusive Kane Rogan—and fearing that maybe she wasn’t a free woman.

He aimed to find out. Tonight.

Dean walked Sonia into her small, tidy bungalow. There was a small light on in every room and Sonia felt the need to explain, though she sounded a bit sheepish. “I don’t like walking into a dark house. I have night-lights on a timer.”

Though Dean knew what Sonia meant, he let her save face and said, “I don’t blame you. Smart, from a security perspective.” Her bungalow wasn’t homey and well lived in like the Knight family house two blocks away. Dean suspected Sonia didn’t do much but sleep here, but it had a certain charm in the details: a collection of stuffed teddy bears dominated the love seat in the corner of the living room, lacy curtains covered generic venetian blinds, and perhaps the most revealing, an entire wall in the dining room was decorated with photographs of Sonia with her family.