SEIZED Part 3: Steamy Romantic Suspense (Seize Me Romance Fiction Series) (4 page)

Carrie

I tell him I need a break. Jason looks at me and nods. I use the bathroom and return to the balcony for another cigarette. He’s kind enough to recognize the feelings this line of questioning invokes. It’s not all pressure here, like it was with Blake. I don’t feel bad about asking for a moment. Compared to the experience of being interviewed by Blake, it’s like night and day.

I think back to the scene at the café that first day. The way he pulled me onto his lap was so fucking hot. I can still feel the way his beard felt against my neck. God, my whole body reacts just having these thoughts. I take a drag of the cigarette and look down over the balcony.

The smog is bad today, but I can still see the street below. Everyone’s continuing on with life just as they were a few days ago. There’s a whole world out there; millions of people who couldn’t care less about April or any of the other victims. That’s why this is important. It’s why I have to put my feelings aside, and tell the truth about everything; even on how Blake handled things. It could be the only chance we have of finding April and everyone else who’s been taken.

I make the decision right then and there. No matter what loyalty I have to Blake, there has to be a time for telling the truth; and that time is right now. This may be the last chance I have to talk to someone whose job is to find April. I don’t want to end up bitter and resentful like one of those kidnapped boy’s mothers Blake told me about. I can’t take this chance because of a high school crush.

I extinguish the cigarette and open the sliding door to head back inside. I meet Jason’s eyes. I’m ready to continue.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

Again, he stays silent. This man is a world-class listener. My mother would love him.

“Agent Cooper, there’s been something I’ve been thinking about. I know you’re not going to approve, but I need to tell you now. When I went to the warehouse this morning, someone saw me. I don’t know who it was. I didn’t see them, but they saw me. I think they know who I am.”

He looks up sharply. “Who do you think it is?”

I swallow, and lay it all out for him. “I got word from a contact at the newspaper that there was some type of conflict between the bidders at the auctions. Before Saturday, the property belonged to Jessup Lee, April’s Uncle. It has to be connected. There has to be something there.

“When was the last time you heard the Police being called to an auction? I mean, seriously, screams? That’s why I went this morning. The place is deserted, but there was someone waiting there. Someone was watching even if they weren’t working. There were fresh cigarette butts in the tin outside.”

I know I’m starting to ramble, but I don’t care. I’m going crazy with this stuff inside my head.

“I think I should be the bait.” I pretty much spit out what’s been going through my mind since I got back. I need to know what he thinks—what a real professional thinks, not someone I’m sleeping with.

Agent Cooper places the tip of his palms together, making a pyramid of his hands. It reminds me of a professor. Intense eyes and body language, the guy’s nodding like he’s deep in thought, as if he’s got all the time in the world. There is something captivating about his demeanor.

Do not do this, Carrie. Do not engage. Do not even entertain the thought. Do not fall for another officer of the law. This is so inappropriate
. I tell myself off, and despite chastising myself, I can’t help having these thoughts. He is alluring. More sleek and clean cut. He’s more a force of power than a bad boy.

Or maybe I’m thinking like this to get back at Blake?
After all, he clearly has something going with Neon. As much as I see him in my future, he’s not committed to me, so maybe I should enjoy looking at the man sitting in front of me now. If Blake’s sharing his time elsewhere, so can I.

I turn my thoughts back to Jason and why he has some appeal. I see his commitment, and his seemingly natural heroism. This is a guy who saves children from being trafficked, and swoops in to take over cases. I look at the shade of his eyes. They’re so blue. I imagine his voice in my ear.

I need to stop myself. If April was here now, we’d be shrieking with laughter at my sassiness. I need to get back to the conversation. He must be starting to wonder what I’m thinking. These long periods of silence aren’t really acceptable in the context of the FBI. It’s like saying bomb at an airport customs line—you just don’t do it.

I decide to be direct. “So what do you think? Is it even feasible, or am I too idealistic.”

Jason clears his throat. “Carrie, we do not put the public in harm’s way. I think with the right support, you’d make an excellent fit for going undercover. One day, if you join the FBI. You’re probably exactly the type of person that the Bureau likes to train. But you’re not an agent now. I highly recommend not doing anything else by yourself. It’s too dangerous. There’s too much at risk, and if they already know who you are then, well...”

He pauses for a second and turns those eyes towards me. It’s his look that makes my breath catch—the intensity of it, the self-assuredness. I’ve just all but told him I’m with Blake, but he doesn’t care. We’re locked into a silent conversation. This man is straight up intense. I don’t know what it is. He’s like a wolf. Lean and hungry, and I don’t even know for sure if that hunger is for me.

The only way to find out is to take a risk. If I do that, and then he rejects me, what then? I’ll spend the whole investigation feeling embarrassed. I’m certain my sub-conscience is doing this to get back at Blake, but I go along with it. I need to make sure I’m reading the look in his eyes correctly. There’s a heat there; a willingness. I look down at myself. I’m still tousled from this morning’s adventures with Blake.

“Excuse me, Agent Cooper?”

I use the formal tone again on purpose. I want to measure whether I’m reading him right. I also need to gather as much information as possible about this man before I decide what to do. He looks up with those wolf-like eyes, and waits for me to speak.

“I know this is a little rude, but I really need to take a shower after my run. Do you mind?” The top of his pink tongue escapes and runs gently over his top lip, and at the same time, he inhales deeply. I could take it as annoyance or desire. I don’t know what the emotion is behind those eyes, except that he might be laughing at me.

“Is something funny?” I give him a challenging look. I don’t want to be anyone’s fool. If he’s laughing at me for trying to save my friend, he can go to hell. “Are you laughing at my bait plan?”

He must read the sour tone in my voice.

“No, no,” he says. “I’m not laughing at all. I’d be upset if you got hurt, which is unusual for me, thinking like this after years being in my line of work. I also smiled because it’s admirable, to see your willingness to put yourself in harm’s way.”

I raise an eyebrow at his first admission. “You don’t seem cold-hearted.”

He shakes his head again, “No, I’m not, but you learn to keep a safe distance when you work in this sector. I’m sorry to tell you, but you probably already know most of these cases end in tragedy, or never end at all. There are thousands of bodies still to be found—women just like April, and innocent children who were there one day, and gone the next. I don’t want to bring you down, but that’s what happens with many of these cases, Carrie.”

Without warning, the tears start again. I feel so vulnerable standing in front of this FBI agent. I’ve only just met him and the urge to seek comfort in his arms is already present. There’s something so lost and lonely little girl about it. I wish I was whole. I wish I wasn’t so fucked up that I had to have the affirmation of the men around me. I wish I could be different. I turn away.

“Excuse me, sorry I’m just…it’s just talking to you about everything makes me so doubtful we’ll ever find April.”

He says nothing at first. I wonder if it’s going to always be this awkward around him—with me making confessions, and him listening silently, taking in every word I say as if he’s constantly forming an opinion. Instead, I feel his hand on my shoulder. He puts it there, and doesn’t move. He doesn’t come closer, all he does is touch my shoulder. It’s incredibly comforting.

He tells me he’s finished with the first interview and will be in touch very soon. He excuses himself and leaves. I feel some relief that the pressure is off.

I finally have a long shower and get back into bed. I crawl in between the sheets in just my bra and panties. I’m tired, but I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling for a second. Jason is gone. I feel a little jolt of rejection, but overall, I feel good.

There are a few things I’m not so good at—self-love and self-acceptance, for starters. I tend to believe it’s my fault when a man leaves. It doesn’t enter my mind he might have to go to work, or something else perfectly normal to do. I end up thinking it’s me, and that it’s always going to be me.

The truth is, I’m just being indulgent with this train of thought. It’s easy to be the victim when I don’t want to face reality. I should snap out of it. On a more practical level, I’m happy he’s not here to be awkward with.

Carrie

I’m down in the mezzanine restaurant having lunch later that day when my phone rings inside my bag. It’s Agent Cooper. I’m confused. Somewhere along the line, he’s taken the time to program himself into my contacts, because I certainly didn’t put him there.

I wonder when he did that. Maybe when I went to the bathroom, or when I was smoking on the balcony? I can’t figure it out. Being an FBI agent suits him. I can only imagine what he’s like with actual criminals.

I answer the phone. “Agent Cooper, how are you?”

“I’m well. How are you, Carrie?” His brief, no nonsense answer matches my professional tone, and I like it.

“I’m downstairs having breakfast.”

“My apologies for disturbing you. I wanted you to know that I spoke to my superiors about you and there’s a possibility that you can help us with this case. Possibly, a lot more than Detective Anderson may have thought viable. I understand you’ve got some experience with the woman they call Neon Lips?”

My mind wanders to the stalking that night after leaving Jessup’s club, to Blake’s album, and then her call, before I begin to relate back what I know about Neon.

“I think she has something to do with the prostitution ring. Blake told me she’s a pimp of sorts, running girls for various gangs. Personal experience with her, though? I can’t claim that. I have never formally met her, or seen her face to face.”

“Carrie, before we go any further, you need to know some things about Detective Anderson. I know you’ve been friends for some time, so please don’t let this upset you.”

I feel my breath hitch in my chest. I can tell already it’s something bad.

“Just tell me.” I say it quickly, putting my fork down.

“Carrie, Blake Anderson has more than one connection to the ring of people who we think have April.”

I wait with baited breath while he continues.

“We have reports that Blake and Neon Lips, otherwise know as Erica Morgan, have been meeting as recently as yesterday near your hotel. She’s a major suspect in more than one missing person’s case, and has been under surveillance for some time. It wasn’t until yesterday that we spotted her with Detective Anderson, when they met in his car.”

“Further to that, our investigation has uncovered that she and Detective Anderson have an existing connection. Before she got into the management game, she was a working girl herself. They dated a few years back, but when Blake couldn’t save her—or convince her to get out of the game—he let her go.

“Despite that, they’ve kept a connection over the years. On more than one occasion he’s looked past leads on cases that could implicate her. They clearly have an agreement that you’re not privy too, Carrie.”

“Thanks for letting me know Agent Cooper.” My voice is calm and cold like it always gets when I’m hurting. I learned to shut down many years ago, and I do it again now.

I hear him pause. “Carrie, I’m not telling you this to cause you any pain. You need to know, because it means you hold a unique position of power now. The bureau wants to talk more with you about how you can help us with the investigation. If you’re willing that is?”

I don’t answer. All I can do is listen.

“It could mean learning more about Blake than you had bargained for, but your help could very well save the life of your friend. Shall I tell the team that you’re willing to discuss it?”

I look down for a second at my eggs. I was right! I knew something was up, but this is the last thing I expected. My world starts to crumble around the edges. I’ve loved this man for years. He may have been staying with me, and using my body, but he’s also been seeing Neon. And now, to learn he’s potentially helping the people who have April? I feel betrayed and rejected, but more than anything else, I feel angry.

If this weren’t coming from the FBI, I wouldn’t believe a word of it. But it is, and I feel like such a fool. Of course it couldn’t be real. Nothing is ever real for me. Nothing is true. I can’t rely on any man to care for me. If I don’t look after myself, no one else will.

Tears are rolling down my face. I pay no attention to the worried looks the waitresses are giving me. It’s the shock of it more than anything. I’m shaking. He’s been betraying me and breaking the law he talks so passionately about. But most of all, he’s left April in danger.

I should have known my bad boy would never turn into a prince charming. That old saying about a leopard changing his spots must be true. Sure enough, those spots can fade, but the devil stays behind, waiting for prey.

There’s nothing else I can do now. What I want to do is shut it all off, and get on with my meltdown. But with all the will I have left in my body, I squash down the feelings. Now is the time to stop listening to my heart, and start taking action. My inner monologue sounds like it’s coming from a drill sergeant right now. I’ll think about kindness and compassion for myself later on. For now, I need to get back to what matters. Getting things done.

“Yes Agent Cooper. I’m interested. Please tell the team I’m willing to discuss whatever you feel I can help with.”

There’s silence for a second on the end of the line.

“Carrie, are you sure? I have to raise this request as it comes from my superiors, but because of the potential risks, I would advise you against it. Your safety would always remain a paramount priority, but you need to know that even as an observer—which is the extent of involvement we’re talking about—helping the FBI this way, you may be in situations where not everything is predictable.”

I nod even though he can’t see me. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to get her back, but you have to be honest with me. I need to know everything. I want the whole truth, Jason.”

“Carrie, we will provide the information we can share. I appreciate your decision in wanting to help. I’m not sure how much Blake has shared with you. I’ll start with what we know about the business structure of the organization we suspect has April.”

I look around the restaurant. Tears are still on my face. If anyone knows I’m talking about an active criminal investigation they don’t show it. It feels so surreal to me, but for many others, it’s their everyday real life. I need to get used to the fact that I live in this world now.

If the FBI thinks I can do something, I’m sure I can. I’m naturally curious, and I notice what’s happening around me. It’s why I wanted to become a reporter. I feel quietly confident. Blake fucking Anderson and his little girlfriend are going to have no idea what’s hit them.

“Tell me what you know about Blake and Neon Lips,” I ask.

I pull my laptop from my bag. I’m ready to take notes one everything he has to say.

“As I said, they met when she was first a working girl. They were both seventeen. He picked her up off the street one morning when she’d been beaten by a client. It’s likely she played him, but then again, there was a mutual benefit, I’m sure.”

He pauses and I can’t help wincing a bit. Of course they were sleeping together. That’s what you do with hookers. I need to let go of my old perceptions of Blake. He may be the boy I wanted in high school, but his behavior paints a different picture in adulthood.

“Back then, Erica Morgan wasn’t known as Neon Lips. She was just young and hurting after having been beaten up. She gave Blake the perfect stray waif to look after. He already had his sister, as you know, but he could never resist this girl.

“He had her stay with a friend, who was later arrested for drug possession, and possession with intent to sell. Basically, his friend was a middleclass drug dealer to yuppy clientele at the local night clubs. Blake is suspected of visiting her often, possibly daily. Eventually, they allegedly used together. As you know, he was a big drinker, but we have reason to believe his habits went beyond the bottle until she was well enough to work the streets again.

“It was a relatively harmless reciprocal arrangement, until the there was some type of disagreement between Blake and the dealer. It led to a violent argument and fight that nearly landed the three of them in prison. It was the first, but far from the last time that Erica Morgan ran into the police.”

“Erica played at least a dozen different criminals in various scams over the next couple of years. The scam always worked the same way, and it wasn’t long before she had a stronghold over one of the local pimps. By then, Erica was only working occasionally, but this new hookup meant she could align herself with the next level bosses, hence her ascent into management.

“Several violent episodes had soured her attitude to running the girls and the game the traditional way. After that, there was nothing stopping her from recruiting girls and driving them so hard they burned out. The opposite of compassionate, she quickly got a reputation as a ferocious but well-paying pimp. Her girls could do whatever they wanted on the job, as long as they delivered the cash back to her.

“She made sure all her girls developed a drug habit. It meant she had more control, and the girls could turn clients on to drugs as well. It’s the one thing that makes her different from the others. They avoided girls with addictions, but Erica preferred them.

“That’s when they started to call her Neon Lips—always ready with the kiss of a needle. The main girls would visit her at the beginning of each shift for their dose, and a talk on who they were supposed to target. These longstanding workers under Neon would recruit new girls without much effort. It’s an attractive solution on the street, for many newbies. Nightly shots and an unending supply of clients are tempting for any drug-addicted sex worker.

“Neon eventually invested in several run-down apartment complex. This is where the top girls in her stable stayed. All kept neatly under her control. She basically owned them, housed them and fed them drugs, until they couldn’t perform anymore. After that, they disappeared. Only to be quickly replaced by the next girls in line; or those they pluck off the street.”

I’m shocked at everything he’s told me. “So, if that’s what happens to every girl who joins her willingly, what about the ones taken against their will?”

He knows my question refers to April. There’s no way a smart girl like April would have gone along with a plan like this.

“Carrie, a couple of years ago, Neon got some extra backing. Blake had long cleaned himself up and was out of the picture by then. He was into his rookie years on the force. During that time, according to a source within Neon’s organization, they had little or no contact.

“She has built a larger and more profitable business through her latest racket. With a team of thugs and a fleet of cars, she’s able to feed fresh, unsuspecting woman across the boarder to Mexico, and then on to the world.”

“How likely is it that she has April?” I ask.

I sense he’s avoiding my question. He still hasn’t said what Neon could have done to her.

“Well, although we have no evidence of April’s exact location, and no record of her leaving the country, we do know Neon is a game player. If she has any idea of the history between you and Blake, she may have purposely kept April close.”

I don’t know whether this something to be relieved about or not.

“So are you saying you suspect Neon has April, and is keeping her in town to take out some form of revenge on Blake Anderson, or me?”