THE FIRST SIN (16 page)

“Anytime. Anywhere.”

The wind’s chill bit at my face and bare arms, and I rubbed my arms with both hands as I met his gaze. “Sometimes you forget I can take care of myself, Zane.” “I never forget.” He stopped me in midstride by grasping my shoulders. “But it’s okay to ask for help if you need it.”

The warmth in my chest from the depth of his caring made the chill back off.

“Right back atcha.”

He released me and it seemed like he was struggling to find words for what he wanted to say. “I’ve just had this bad feeling lately. Be careful, Lex.”

He tugged my hair, and we turned around and started walking to our parents’ home.

I didn’t say anything because I’d had a bad feeling for awhile, too.

March 31

Sunday evening

“No way.” I glared up at my six-two brother, Ryan, as we played three-on-three basketball. “That was a clear foul.” “Listen, shrimp,” Ryan said with a cocky grin as he dribbled the basketball that he’d just knocked out of my grasp. “You ‘re just too damned short.”

“I’ll show you short.” I made an easy steal from him, dribbled around Sean and Evan, and made a jump shot. Swish.

“Nothing but net.” Zane slapped my sore butt and I almost punched him.

Reflex, of course. “Good job, Lex.” “You should know better than to piss Lexi off.” Troy grinned at Ryan. “Now we’re tied.”

Evan grasped the ball. “Next basket is the tiebreaker.” “Five bucks on Lexi,”

Rori said from her seat between Mammy and Daddy on the porch swing.

“You’ll never win after calling her shrimp.”

“You’re on,” Ryan said.

“And you just lost five dollars,” I said with my evilest grin. Out of a family of nine, I drew the shortest straw. My sister and mother were both around five-eight and my twelve-year-old brother was five-six already. Not to mention our four older brothers, who were all six feet and taller. I just didn’t get it.

But Rori was right. Nobody pisses me off and gets away with it.

That last point was a good, hard battle. But sometimes being short had serious advantages, and I dodged around Ryan and made an easy layup for the win.

‘Take that, badass Marine,” I said and then cried out when he swung me over his shoulder and swatted my butt. “I am so going to kill you,” I said as he set me on the grass and I proceeded to knock Mr. Badass Marine flat on that badass when I swept his feet out from under him. “The bigger they are—“

Everyone started laughing.

Ryan growled and lunged to his feet, and I laughed and dodged around him and up to the “safe zone” with Mammy, Daddy, and Rori.

“Safe!” I grinned as he glared at me. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was already in a world of hurt, I’d have had some fun sparring with him.

“I’ve got to go.” I kissed Mammy’s, Daddy’s, and Rori’s cheeks. “It’s been a really long day.” It had been an exhausting five days, actually, but especially last night and today, and I was ready to collapse.

I hugged and kissed my five brothers’ cheeks, too, and barely avoided getting slapped on my butt by Ryan. I waved before unlocking my Cherokee, climbing in, and driving home.

My thoughts turned to Operation Cinderella and the next phase of the assignment. Saving those girls was never far from my mind. Especially Donovan’s sister.

April 1

Monday morning

It was almost nine by the time I made it to RED. I think I could have slept until noon after the weekend I’d had. Once I got off the elevator, I headed past my office to Donovan’s. His door was open and he looked up from his monitor as soon as I stepped into the doorway. Delicious. Why did he always have to look so good? My mind flashed to Saturday night, when he’d been naked from the waist up. How could he look just as powerful with clothes on, covering all that well-defined muscle? After talking with Donovan a little this weekend, and knowing he had left the Navy to raise his kid sister, his edges didn’t seem so rough now.

His reaction to what I went through made him seem different somehow, too.

“Ready, Steele?” he asked after we had both stared at one another for a long moment. “Now that you’re here, we can go through the data we obtained Saturday night.” “Let’s see what we’ve got.” I tried not to yawn and ruffled my hair. “Which conference room?”

“Three.” He reached into a duffel on his desk and drew out the pair of leather cuffs he’d worn Saturday night. He got up and came around his desk, and I swore I felt his body heat before he even reached me.

We headed down to the conference room, and he shut the door behind him when we walked in.

I looked at the chair I so wanted to sit in. The burn on my backside said otherwise. Sleeping had been a real bitch. Donovan took his own seat.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” The look I gave him said, are you out of your mind?

“Right now standing is better.”

He winced. “Sorry, Steele.”

I braced my hands on the back of the chair I would like to be sitting in. “All in the name of the job, right?” “You want to do this later?” Donovan asked. “You can take a breather in the lounge.”

“Nah. Let’s go.”

Donovan used a touchpad to bring up Tarantino’s photo on the screen that materialized at the end of the table. My cheeks and body burned at the thought of what he’d put me through. “Too bad I couldn’t have kneed him in the balls Saturday night instead of you,” I grumbled. “Same here.” He grimaced and touched the pad again to run the familiar stats we had already gathered alongside Tarantino’s photo.

Donovan held one of the cuffs he’d worn Saturday night. The cuff looked thick, and the device Hector Martinez and his “gadget” staff had implemented was virtually invisible the way it fit into the leather. It was small, but could mirror an entire hard drive. An identical device had been implanted in the ankle cuff I’d had on.

When Donovan pressed one of the studs on the outside of the cuff, the device popped out The gadget was about an inch long, with an embedded button that Donovan used to slide out the port access. He injected the device into a slot near the computer touchpad.

In an instant, the information from Tarantino’s hard drive came up on the screen, information organized into document folders. Each folder had a different name. I straightened and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Click on the folder for ‘Special Projects.’”

“Good enough place to start.”

The folder was filled with files showing large donations to various charities.

“Jeez,” I said as we went through file after file. “Everything’s documented so well that it has to be an accountant’s dream.”

Donovan closed a spreadsheet. “We’ll have some of the agents get on top of the charities to make sure they’re legit.” I nodded. “Either they’re legit, or he’s damned good at hiding his money.”

Folder after folder of information showed us nothing more than employee records, along with his expenses and various streams of income.

“Christ, the man makes a truckload of cash.” I leaned on one elbow.

“Investments and clubs, including the Crystal Twilight.”

After we’d spent at least three hours working our way through the info, Donovan rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. I was ready to drop.

“Enough.” I raised my arms, clasped my hands, and started in on a number of stretches. “We’ll let the geek squad tear apart the copy of everything we got from the hard drive.” I leaned to one side while stretching my opposite.

“We’ve gone through everything obvious, and we might as well let the guys do their thing.”

Donovan touched the pad and the screen dematerialized. He ejected the device with Tarantino’s information on it and stood. ‘Taylor seems to know his stuff.”

“He sure does.”

When Donovan stood and stretched it was something to behold. All those muscles flexing and bunching. I had to turn away, or embarrass myself by tackling him and kissing that firm mouth and tasting his male flavor.

Donovan and I took the device with Tarantino’s hard drive to Seth Taylor, a self-proclaimed “geek” who headed up the team of agents who were technological analysts and hackers.

Taylor might call himself a geek, but he looked nothing like the stereotypical moniker. Sharp blue eyes; a sexy grin on a movie-star face; a build like a swimmer and the tan to go along with it.

“What’s up?” Taylor stood. He’d been sitting in a chair in front of a monitor, viewing code, as we entered the room his team worked in.

Donovan handed him the device with Tarantino’s hard drive information.

“We need every nook and cranny explored to see if there’s anything dirty on this guy. Lucca Tarantino.”

Taylor took the gadget. “Anything in particular we’re searching for?”

I frowned. “Mainly auction information. If you see something that looks like Tarantino’s involved in auctions with any kind of ‘merchandise,’ or you find odd transactions, those are things we need to know about right away.” Taylor glanced over his shoulder at a guy who did look more like a hacker geek with his slightly larger belly, shaggy hair, and T-shirt with a Battlestar Galactica logo. Hmmm. Guess RED had different appearance standards for geeks than special agents. “I’ll give it to Sparks. Sparky will dissect it in no time.”

Donovan nodded. “Thanks, Taylor.”

I glanced up at the big clock on one wall of the CC. “Just in time for our briefing with Oxford. She so does not tolerate tardiness, except for extreme circumstances. Better to be early with her.”

When we reached Oxford’s reception area, Darlene smiled at Donovan, her cheeks turning pink. She pretended I didn’t exist, and her tone was sweet and girlish when she spoke to him. “You are a little early, but I’ll let Agent Oxford know you’re here.”

I couldn’t help it. I rolled my eyes. She caught me doing it and glared at me when Donovan wasn’t looking. “Send them in,” Oxford said when Darlene buzzed her, and we went in.

“Have a seat.” Oxford gestured to the chairs in front of her desk.

“I’d prefer to stand,” I said. “I’m a little sore from Saturday night.”

She looked at me with her keen, dark gaze. “Sit.”

“Yes. ma’am.” I winced and my eyes watered as I obeyed, but I sure as hell obeyed.

Donovan and I took turns filling her in on Saturday at the Crystal Twilight. I glossed over the more embarrassing parts and I was glad Donovan didn’t mention the kneeling-on-all-fours all-night-cage thing.

I wanted to bring up my earlier thoughts of asking for “hazard pay,” but I doubted Oxford would find it amusing. She was going to find those expense reports interesting enough as it was. Butt plugs, dildos. whips, and black latex were going to have her brows rising. Hey, we had to get to know all the equipment we could. Not that we had to actually use it to get the entire experience.

After we filled her in on everything from the club to the contents of the copied hard drive, Donovan’s expression grew dark. “Agent Steele shouldn’t have to go through shit like that.” His voice had a hardness to it that caught me off guard. The words just came out of nowhere. “I should handle this alone. I’m in tight, so that part of our mission was accomplished.”

“What?” I said, his comment setting me off balance before I regained my senses. “Oh, no way. You are not pulling this chauvinistic crap on me.”

Oxford gave the slightest wave of her hand toward the door in a dismissive gesture. “Protect her ass and she’ll protect yours.”

I winced at the “ass” part.

“Steele shouldn’t have to go through this shit,” he said again. Donovan always sounded like he was holding back a low growl. “She was whipped and humiliated in front of a crowd of people. They put her in a small cage like a goddamned animal, and poked and prodded her for fun. I don’t know what they might do to her next.”

So much for him not mentioning that little tidbit of information.

Our ASAC gave him a steady look. “If we pull her out now, six months of investigative work will be tossed down the drain. It’s up to Steele how much she can take, how much she’s willing to endure. Not me, not you.” Oxford leaned forward in her chair, her forearms resting on her desk. “Tell me, Donovan. Do you think a woman is any less capable than a man when it comes to dealing with undercover work?”

Donovan scrubbed his hand over his face. “No, goddamnit.” “I’m fine, and she’s right.” Maybe I should punch him. If I was a man, Donovan wouldn’t be talking to our ASAC about his partner being forced into these kinds of degrading acts. “Every undercover goes into an operation knowing there could be a price to pay.” The armrests bit into my hands as I clenched them.

“At least I didn’t have to snort coke or something.” This time.

Donovan looked twice as pissed. “I’ve just got a bad feeling.”

“Is that all you have to go on, Donovan? A feeling?” Oxford got to her feet.

Yeah, I’d say that was a real clear statement that she wanted us to leave.

“Unless you have proof otherwise, a feeling’s not good enough to take down this operation, especially not now.”

April 5

Friday afternoon

Friday, Donovan and I were poring over more intel from Jensen, Takamoto, and Smithe until one-thirty in the afternoon. Tomorrow we’d be going to the next club to get Strong’s hard drive contents. Great. Probably some more humiliation to look for in the meantime.

“Ready for some lunch?” Donovan asked when we reached a stopping point.

I grimaced. “RED cafeteria food just doesn’t appeal to me right now. I think today the special is meatloaf.”

Donovan stood and stretched. I tried to hold back a sigh as I watched him.

“Come with me to Kristin’s. I’ve got a room set up with enough equipment, and we can keep ourselves busy all afternoon working on Cinderella”

“Work?” I shifted in my chair. The pain had settled into a more reasonable burn. “You’re trying to get me to your place with work?”

“Nah.” Donovan gathered the file folder he’d been going through. “I know the way to you, Steele, is through your stomach. I’ll fix lunch.”

I scooted back my chair in a hurry. “If you can cook anything as well as you did those crepes, I am so there.” It didn’t take us long to gather our things and what files we needed, and anything that would help with the case. I followed him from RED HQ to Kristin’s home in Back Bay. She lived on the lowest floor of a brownstone. It had a front yard filled with flowers and wrought-iron gates and fencing. Huge trees shadowed the line of brownstones and sunlight winked through the leaves and onto my Cherokee when I parked in front of her place.