Wanting (PAVAD) Read online

  WANTING

  CALLE J. BROOKES

  The Lost River Literary name and imprint are the sole properties of independent publishers Calle J. Brookes and B.G. Lashbrooks. They cannot be reproduced or used in any manner; nor can any of their publications or designs be used without expressed written permission. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, or locations, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  ****

  To my nephew, C.A.B., whose own operating system boots just a little bit differently.

  ***

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

  Copyright © 2012 Calle J. Brookes

  Cover by B.G. Lashbrooks

  All rights reserved.

  Chapter 1

  *****

  Agent Sebastian Lorcan looked around, taking in the interior of the hallway. Red and whiskey accents against a warm cream. Like her. It suited the woman he’d come to see, and surprised the hell out of him. The door opened a portion; red hair and whiskey eyes were just visible in the gap.

  “Agent Lorcan, what are you doing here? I don’t have people from the Bureau at my home. Ever.”

  Her words were low and he strained to hear. Her tone was anything but welcoming and he didn’t blame her. He’d not exactly gone out of his way to be friendly with her over the past few months.

  “I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.” He pushed the door back and stepped into her apartment. She jumped back to avoid touching him. Like she always did. It irritated him every time.

  Her loft apartment was definitely not what he’d expected. He’d always thought she’d eat, sleep, and breathe surrounded by her precious computers—in a small, cramped little hovel only minutes from the Bureau. This place was close to the Bureau, but that was the only thing he’d been right about.

  He’d never pictured her in this luxury apartment with granite countertops, leather furnishings, and expensive accents. This woman had some serious dough, somewhere. Curious. “Nice place.”

  “My place. So why are you here?” She didn’t glare at him, but Sebastian thought it was pretty damned close. She stood between him and the two small steps that led up into the living area off the kitchen.

  “I need your help.”

  “With what? Don’t you have someone on your team who can work a simple computer program? I doubt you’re an agent short.” She blocked him with her body when he would have taken those steps into the living room. Her body was taut, and her hand firm where she rested it against his arm.

  “I can work the damned computer.” He looked down at the woman nearly pressed against him. She smelled wonderful—almost enough to distract him from his purpose. Almost, but he reined himself in.

  He’d always found Special Agent Carrie Sparks distracting.

  “So what? A case?” She bent and lifted the black cat that rubbed against her leg. She cuddled the beast against her chest. It purred. Sebastian couldn’t blame him. He’d want to purr next to that chest, too. His body tightened at that thought, a state he was accustomed to being in whenever around her. “I’m off for the next four days. I’ve built up too much paid time off for this month.”

  “I know. This isn’t through the Bureau.”

  She still eyed him warily, suspicion clear. “Then I can’t help you.”

  “May I sit down?” He didn’t wait for her permission, slipping passed her and approaching the couch. He glanced over his shoulder just as annoyance slipped over her face.

  “Sure. Go right ahead. May I get you something to drink; beer, soda, water?”

  It was the first he’d ever heard sarcasm from her. It surprised him; he’d always thought people with Aspergers were incapable of it. “Soda sounds fine. Thank you.”

  She opened the fridge and pulled out two green cans. He settled on her couch; it was as comfortable as it had looked. She plopped his soda on the end table, before perching on the glass and chrome coffee table. The cat hopped up beside her, climbing into her lap. He stretched one paw over the woman’s lap, and looked at Sebastian. His eyes were glowing with what could only be interpreted as possessive claiming of his mistress.

  Sebastian repressed to urge to say anything to the woman—or the cat. “Thank you.”

  “Why are you here?” She repeated her question, and he wondered if it was just her customary speech pattern, or a product of her own annoyance at his intrusion.

  “Seven days ago this little girl ran away from home.” He pulled a small picture out of his pants pocket. She took it from him warily. “Her mother called a friend of mine. Who called me.”

  “And the police have nothing?”

  “She’s fourteen and has had trouble before. Frankly, I don’t think they’re looking that hard.”

  “So why can’t your team help you?” She returned the picture to him, and looked out the window at the St. Louis arch, an odd expression on her face. “Why me?”

  “She wasn’t abducted. Case doesn’t fit the parameters required for my unit. My team is still with the rest of yours in Nashville. And you’ve also been given mandatory leave. I have no one else available. This shouldn’t take long. I want to find her, I need to find her. I’ve known her since she was six.”

  She bit her lip and looked at him. “I don’t know. What do you need?”

  She was close to capitulating. It was in the way she looked at the photograph in her hand. He leaned forward, but kept his shoulders relaxed. Unthreatening. “Please, Agent Sparks. She’s just a child and woefully unprepared for the world outside on the streets. I need to find her.”

  She sighed and Sebastian knew he had her cooperation. She squared her shoulders and looked at him directly, making eye contact. “I’ll do it.”

  At her words, the tension that had plagued him for the last three hours lessened slightly. He needed her skills, and now he had them. “Thank you.”

  “What do you know so far?” Carrie moved, sitting beside him. Her shoulder brushed his. Sebastian felt that ghosting touch and his whole body went on alert. This enigma did something to him faster than any other woman on the planet, and with any other kind of woman he would have acted on it months ago. But not Carrie Sparks and not just because of her obvious differences. She was not the kind of woman a man like him ever fooled around with. Too many consequences would be involved.

  He knew and would just have to remind himself of that. “First, the computer. Her mom said she spent quite a lot of time online. Blogs, emails, social media.”

  Carrie nodded. “I can start on the internet searches from here. My computers are in here.”

  He followed her to the back wall. Just visible was the outline of a built-in sliding door. It so seamlessly blended into the cedar wall around it that had she not opened it, he would have missed it. One more indication that this place was pretty damned pricey. And that didn’t fit with who he thought she was. Junior agent, living on a beginning federal employee salary—it wasn’t enough to afford a place like this. Where was her money coming from? “How long have you lived here?”

  Chapter 2

  *****

  Carrie watched the man invading her home and couldn’t help but feel the irritation that he always caused. It was so m
uch worse than usual; this was her sanctuary. And he’d invaded. If it hadn’t been for that little girl...

  “Eighteen months.” She flicked the switch to power the lights and the six screens that were housed in the small room. It had once been a bathroom, but she’d repurposed it. Her pair of laptops that she carried with her on cases were her babies, but this room was her heart. Four higher-than-state-of-the-art hard drives were lined up like neat little soldiers under a long table. She’d built the hard drives from spare parts. Two wireless keyboards were configured to operate any drive.

  The room had no windows; she hated glare on her screens when she worked. It seemed smaller and darker than she knew it to be. She attributed that to the man crowding behind her; she could hear his breathing over the steady hum of her machines. The hum usually comforted her as much as Linux’s purrs, but not this time. Not with him in the room. “You need to understand something. No one has ever seen this room. I need your word that you won’t disclose its location.”

  “Why? Do you keep this quiet, I mean?”

  “I’ve had burglaries before. And they’ve stolen important code. This was in Virginia, and I was asleep in the other room. I wasn’t able to stop them, though I tried. Do I have your word?”

  “Of course. I won’t tell a soul.” He nodded, though Carrie suspected he didn’t understand. But the night that her old apartment had been broken into had left an indelible memory, just as strong as the sight of her mother dying in front of her when she was nine. Carrie needed a safe place, especially in her own home. This was it.

  “What is the girl’s name and do you have her email address?”

  ***

  “Ashleigh Cavanaugh.” He repeated the email address he’d been given. The room surprised him, but not as much as his anger at her need for it. She would have been extremely young when living and training in Virginia, only twenty-three or twenty-four. Vulnerable. The idea of a young Carrie sleeping in her bed and some strange, faceless man breaking into her home aroused all his protective instincts and he forced them back down. She brought out the caveman in him so easily. Did she realize that?

  “I’ll track her internet paths. Since she’s over thirteen, she can open her own social media accounts. If I can find her communications, you can profile her posts to see if we can get a read on what’s going on.” She spoke with confidence, not repeating herself even once. It surprised him; she always took the background with her team. She was part of the Complex Crimes Unit of the FBI, and her team was a team of Bureau superstars. Sebastian’s team was the number three team—the other two teams were older—with the CCU. In the two months Sebastian had been assigned to St. Louis, he’d had plenty of opportunity to observe Carrie and her team.

  She was the least experienced, and in Sebastian’s estimation, the most vulnerable. She’d proven that the first time he’d met her, having been the victim of an attack by a former colleague that left her battered and in a leg cast.

  He still didn’t understand why Hellbrook, her team leader, didn’t keep her confined to the police stations they visited. It was where she belonged, safe behind her computer screens. And that’s where her strengths were. Carrie was phenomenal with computers, but she had certification by Quantico to be in the field, having gone through the Academy with honors. He’d checked her file the first week he’d been in St. Louis. He’d been curious about her from the moment he’d first seen her.

  Hellbrook required every member of his teams to be investigative agents, as well as any specialist position they may be qualified for. The CCU had former police investigators, two psychologists, a media specialist, the top pathologist in the nation, and a former ATF agent. Plus Carrie, with her computer skills.

  She continued speaking. “In my experience, these kids always leave hints, or trails. They very rarely keep it entirely to themselves.”

  “Your experience?” How much experience could this beautiful neophyte agent possibly have?

  “Yes, in my experience...Ten years ago, I was one of them.”

  Chapter 3

  *****

  “I’ve worked with runaways in the St. Louis area for the last two years. Since I transferred in.” Carrie looked at him and he was struck by her eyes once again. This time they were frank and honest. And, as always, beautiful. “I used to be one. Kansas City, Dallas, Nashville, Houston, Chicago and other places.”

  “You ran away?” Sebastian knew his face reflected his surprise.

  “Yes.”

  “How old?” Sebastian couldn’t imagine it; this woman sleeping in alleys, subsisting off the radar the way street kids did. “How long?”

  “Fifteen. Three years. Until I could get my GED and go to college.” Carrie shrugged, looked away from him. Was she ashamed of her history? She shouldn’t be. Sebastian wrapped one hand around her much smaller one.

  She looked back at him, and his breath caught seeing the memories in those eyes. “I did ok, and was lucky enough to meet Paige less than a week after I ran away. We stuck together for three years. But so many of these kids aren’t so lucky.”

  Paige. One of the agents from his team. He’d known Paige and Carrie were friends, but this? This surprised him. There was nothing in Paige’s personnel files that indicated she’d been a runaway. And she’d never indicated anything about it. “So you do what with them now?”

  She tried to pull her hand free but he wouldn’t let her. She didn’t look away. “Help them when I can. Find them places to sleep. Help those go home who have places to go home. Help those that don’t realize they have options they might not know about. I am on the board of two shelters here in St. Louis.”

  “Who helped you?” He hated the thought of it, her and Paige as young girls, lost on the city streets. So vulnerable. Both of them.

  “There wasn’t anyone to help us. No one we would have trusted.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. If I hadn’t ran away, I wouldn’t have ended up here. With Paige or my team, the FBI in general. My team would look for me now; I know they would.” Carrie nodded, sending that red hair swinging. It was down, and Sebastian decided he preferred it that way. She had the most beautiful red hair. Like fire.

  “Thank you, Carrie. For helping me.”

  “I’m not helping you, I’m helping her.” She pointed at the little girl’s blog as it appeared on three of her monitors. “If she’s on my streets, Unit Chief Lorcan, I will find her.”

  “I hope it’s soon,” Sebastian said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “You can read. She has two blogs, and several other social media accounts. Take your pick.” She motioned to the monitor farthest away from her position and Sebastian moved the desk chair closer.

  They spent the next two hours going over Ashleigh’s web presence. Sebastian grew even more frustrated; the entire content was generic, teenaged girl angst mingled with childish euphoria. Exactly what he’d have expected to find from a fourteen-year-old girl.

  His concentration was broken by Carrie’s home phone ringing. And ringing, with no movement from his companion. He looked up at her. “You going to get that?”

  “No. Anyone who matters knows to call my cell. I just have the home number because it was bundled with the internet service.” She didn’t look up from the screen. Her voice filled the silence as it issued from the voice mail, followed by the male caller’s.

  “Hey, Carrie, sweetheart. I know you told me not to call anymore, and I hope you’ve changed your mind. I know I was an ass. I shouldn’t have just shown up like that, not without an invitation. How about dinner one day this week as an apology? No strings, I promise! Call me when you get this.”

  Sebastian watched her as the message sounded, not missing the stark annoyance that crossed her face. “Boyfriend?”

  “Not anymore. Never really was.” Her tone was biting, then she sighed.

  “He giving you problems?” Sebastian felt his hackles rise at the idea of some unknown male pressuring Carrie into
something she didn’t want.

  “Just showed up one day last week. Nobody comes here. Nobody. Paige. Just Hell or Georgia or Dan. And now you, once.” Her tapping was staccato against the tabletop, the beat showing her agitation and annoyance. “He was not invited. I don’t like that; I didn’t even give him my address. I’ve been very careful to avoid that very thing. I don’t want people in my home. Even the men I date.”

  He knew all too well how vulnerable single women living alone were. And even if her building had some pretty decent security measures installed, she was still at risk. Hadn’t he made it all the way to her place on the top floor nearly unhindered? He’d flashed his ID at one of Carrie’s neighbors, and the woman had let him right in the building. No problems. “You feel threatened by this guy?”

  “No. Just annoyed.”

  “So this has happened before, someone just showing up here?”

  “Other than you?” He couldn’t miss the sarcasm this time. “Well, no. Usually just phone calls. Which are annoying; I don’t like the phone, unless it’s the team. I like my privacy.” She looked at the screen pointedly. “We should get back to work. Have you found anything?”

  “Nothing that I think contains even the vaguest hint of a child on the verge of running away.”

  “What would trigger it? Suddenly, I mean?” Carrie asked. “You said she’s caused trouble before?”

  “Minor things, staying out past curfew. Slipping grades. Sneaking out to college parties.” Sebastian repeated what he’d been told by the girl’s mother only that morning.

  “How long has that behavior been going on? I’ve not seen anything that even hints at that.”

  “I’m not sure. Wasn’t in the police report.” Sebastian watched as she moved to another computer and typed in a few commands. Within two minutes a copy of the police report was visible on two of the monitors. Carrie Sparks was damned good, he’d give her that.