Seeking Page 9

  For a moment, she was convinced it was Joey O’Hurley on that table. The red hair was the same. The freckles. But...

  “It’s not him. We don’t know this child. I’m sorry.” Ezra’s hand tightened around Shannon’s arm, and he pulled her away from the table.

  She couldn’t look away.

  Dan Reynolds had a redheaded son about this kid’s age. Paige and Mick Brockman’s son was the same age, too. Good kids, good families. Lots of love. Joey O’Hurley’s family loved him, too. Somewhere out there, a parent was missing their kid. This kid. And it wasn’t PAVAD’s job to find the answers.

  She wished it was. Wished there was a way for them to have stopped whatever had happened to this child, wished they had the answers for Darrell, Marious, and Joey.

  But reality was... She looked at Ezra. “We need to contact Ken, let him know.”

  Ezra nodded.

  Nothing was said until they made it back to the Bureau SUV.

  “He looked so young,” she said as Ezra maneuvered the car back toward PAVAD. “And alone. I wonder who he was.”

  His mouth firmed. “I don’t know. I check the news reports and Amber Alerts every single day. He wasn’t broadcast. Hasn’t been.”

  “Yet.” It wasn’t even two. The idea that his parents didn’t even know wasn’t lost on her.

  They had three sets of families waiting on them to find their boys. But Shannon would never forget that little boy any time soon.

  FORTY-ONE

  SHE DIDN’T SAY much as they entered the PAVAD building. Her team leader had texted, informing them that the rest of their team waited in the conference room. Ezra ruthlessly shoved the sight of that boy out of his head for the time being.

  He’d swing by the ME’s office on his way home, see if the boy’s family had been found, as soon as he could.

  Shannon was even more withdrawn than she was that morning.

  No one questioned it; everyone knew exactly where she and Ezra had been.

  Cam patted her on the shoulder, and that was it.

  “So, what are we up to now?” Chalmers asked. “Evan?”

  “There have been fourteen reports in the last three hours of two boys matching some of our descriptions.” Evan pointed to the map of the surrounding area. “We’re dispatching auxiliary teams to search now. Including the two canine units. And we have local police canvassing.”

  “Good. Shannon, you start coordinating those sightings. I want everything filtering through a central point. That’s you. Hahn will assist.”

  Ezra was torn over that. A part of him wanted to put as much distance between himself and Shannon as possible. The larger part of him wanted to get as close to her as he possibly could.

  Not just because of any sexual response, but because he was...worried.

  Shannon was struggling, and it was written all over her.

  And he just wanted to fix everything for her that he could.

  FORTY-TWO

  EVAN, KEN, AND Cam were the ones to find Joey and Marious. But it was Ezra and Shannon Ken ordered to do the preliminary interviews.

  She always got put on interviewing the kids. Shannon understood it. Ken and Evan and the rest of her male teammates were larger than life, strong, and very, very intimidating. Even without trying to be. She was about as intimidating as Minnie Mouse. And that was on a good day.

  Marious was as tall as she was, and Joey wasn’t far behind. “I’m Agent Toliver. I wanted to let you know we’ve called your parents. They’ve been extremely worried.”

  Fear hit two pairs of child eyes—one dark brown and the other pair light blue. But it was Marious who spoke first.

  He’d been described as the self-selected leader of their little trio. “We didn’t mean to make them afraid.”

  His voice broke at the end, whether from natural changes or fear, she couldn’t tell.

  He looked at the man sitting next to her. “I—”

  Ezra leaned forward. “You are both very smart kids. You know who we’re looking for.”

  “Can you tell us where you’ve been?” Shannon tried again, this time looking at the redheaded teenager across from her. Neither boy looked threatening or aggressive. Neither showed signs of any obvious physical trauma.

  But they’d been missing four days. And Darrell was still out there.

  “We didn’t know what to do,” Joey was almost hiccupping from fear.

  Shannon looked at him directly. “Joey, where’s Darrell? We need to find him, make certain he’s ok. Then we’ll figure out what happened and how to help.”

  Ezra stepped closer to the table and leaned down in front of her. “Look at me. Look right at me, guys. Not at Agent Toliver or your parents. Look right at me. You don’t have to be afraid any more. We are here to find out what happened so we can help. It’s our job, what we do. Let us help you figure this out. But first, we need to know where he is so we can keep him safe.”

  It was the most she’d heard Ezra Hahn say at any one time.

  And it worked. The boys responded.

  They had the address in less than two minutes. Cops were dispatched, and a badly beaten Darrell was found less than half an hour later.

  The man who’d hurt him and threatened all three boys into fearing that the only thing they could do was run away was in custody within the hour.

  Darrell’s uncle was going up on a host of charges. Darrell and his friends were now safe.

  FORTY-THREE

  EZRA WAITED, DRAGGING out his final paperwork until he saw a familiar woman walk out of the back supply room. He’d known she was around somewhere. Her bag was still on her desk in the midst of the CCU4 bullpen.

  “Shannon.” He wrapped a hand around her elbow and stopped her before she hit her desk—and the small crowd of people near there. He needed her alone for a minute. He didn’t have a clue what he wanted to say, but he had to say something.

  “What, Ezra? I’m really tired and I just want to go home, and I have an hour bus ride tonight.”

  The bus? Hell no. Armed federal agent or not. “I’ll give you a lift.”

  “I can get myself home.”

  “Quit arguing. I can have you there in fifteen minutes. Can you spend fifteen minutes in my company without us fighting?”

  “Yes. But only when I’m asleep, apparently. Incapable of making rational decisions.”

  Shannon Toliver had always liked to mumble about him. Ezra fought the memories her words brought. Not that those memories were all that buried.

  “Whatever, but I’m still driving you home. What the hell is the matter with your car?”

  “I think it’s the alternator, but I haven’t had the time to get it fixed. Why do you care, Hahn? Take yourself home and get out of my bubble for a while.”

  He should. He should put as much distance between him and Shannon as humanly possible. Hell, the smart thing to do would be to transfer out of PAVAD. Maybe take a job overseas. Put some space between them. Maybe then he’d be able to forget this woman. Somehow.

  But that wasn’t going to happen.

  He’d just find himself pulled right back to her like a magnet seeking metal.

  “I’ll do that. Once I know you’re safely tucked into your little bed. It’s late. Don’t argue. Unless you like riding the bus for another hour after a thirteen-hour day? Who knows what kind of crazies are out there this late, anyway? I may even buy you dinner, if you’re lucky.”

  “Let me guess. You need to stop at the gas station to do it?”

  He smirked. The little quips were still there, but it was obvious she was tired. “I may even spring...for Smokey’s.”

  She hesitated immediately and he cursed himself in his head. Suddenly, something he’d overheard Leina say made more sense. “You’ve not been back there since, have you?”

  She shook her head. “I know it’s stupid. They were going to get to me wherever I was. But...I just...haven’t.”

  “Grab your bag. I’ve not been back yet, either. I just haven’t
had the time. We’ll go together. Get it over with. Get ourselves that damned closure everyone spouts off about. It’ll even get Cam off my ass.”

  “Why do you care, Ezra? I thought we agreed not to care about each other?”

  Maybe not in so many words. He hadn’t wanted to not care about her—he just hadn’t wanted to end up so consumed by her.

  But it was far too late for that. He should have realized that from the first moment he’d realized she was in danger.

  Cam looked up from the desk he was sitting on. Kyra was at his side, looking better. She’d only been back at work for two or three months after the trauma she’d endured down in Texas. Cam still hovered, of course.

  He’d given Kyra one hell of an impressive ring.

  Cam wore one, too, even though the wedding hadn’t actually happened yet. He said that if he got to claim Kyra, she got to claim him, too. When his friend was being ridiculous, he introduced himself as Mr. Dr. Dillon-Darlin’.

  Those two were exactly who he needed. Those two, more than anyone else, would make her feel at ease. Safe. He nodded at Cam. “I’m going to Smokey’s tonight. Figured it’s time I got my closure. And some damned onion rings.”

  “Good. You’re buying,” Cam said, hopping off the desk. “Dr. Dillon-&-Babe and I will go with you. Shannon?”

  She shot a glare at Ezra. “I...was going to take the bus home.”

  “Nonsense. We do Smokey’s, then Ez here can taxi you home. I’ll make him. No matter how much he complains.”

  Cam had done exactly what Ezra needed him to.

  Ezra tried not to gloat as he walked her out of the building and to the parking garage where his truck waited.

  He lifted her into his truck before she could protest. When she did, he shrugged. “It’s faster this way. You’re too short.”

  “I’m short, but your truck is a gross overcompensation. For something.”

  He lowered his voice. “You sure about that? I didn’t hear you complain that night.”

  Doe eyes widened. “Don’t talk about that night. They might hear you.”

  “They’re three cars down and Cam’s trying to cop a feel. Or Kyra is. I’m not entirely sure.” He stepped back and closed her door.

  He bit back his smile. He liked disconcerting Shannon Toliver. Gave him a kick to know that he could.

  She didn’t speak on the entire drive to Smokey’s. But once they pulled into the parking lot, he heard her indrawn breath.

  It was right over there that they’d been attacked. Together.

  He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but his own chest tightened, and anxiety filled his gut seeing where they’d stood. “It’s over, babe. Those sonsofbitches are dead.”

  “But we don’t know why they did it. Not yet.”

  They’d stalled. Even the names they’d had for the men had been false. DNA, facial recognition—all avenue had failed so far.

  But Sebastian Lorcan’s people were still looking.

  “Lorcan’s team is still putting things together. We’ll have the answers soon. Stay there. I’m parked near a puddle. You’ll need help in those shoes.”

  “You are so chivalrous, Agent Hahn. What’s a lady to do?”

  He slammed the door shut then rounded the front of his truck. Kyra and Cam had pulled in right behind them, but he knew his partner. Dark car, the woman he hadn’t really seen much in four days.

  It would be a few minutes before Cam and Kyra got out of that car.

  He opened Shannon’s door and helped her over the miniscule, six-inch puddle. His hands went around her waist and he lowered her down.

  It took every ounce of resolve he had not to let her slide against his chest and lean her back against his truck. To show her exactly what a lady should do with the man who needed her the way Ezra wanted her.

  Instead he lowered her to the ground and let her go.

  His hands curled.

  Magnet. He was a damned magnet where she was concerned. “Come on. I’ll buy. No doubt Cam will wheedle it out of me anyway. He usually does twice a week.”

  He made a point of putting Kyra and Cam between him and Shannon before they entered. Just to keep people from getting ideas about things he wasn’t quite ready to share yet. She wouldn’t appreciate it. Smokey’s was full of cops and agents and even some military on occasion. Not to mention the lawyers that floated around everywhere.

  People they met in their job all the damned time.

  No, Shannon wouldn’t want rumors.

  Ezra found that he didn’t give a damn for himself. So what if people knew he had the hots for her.

  He wouldn’t mind at all.

  Of course, even if it got out that he did, he wasn’t about to act like that fool Cam. Guy was practically panting down the front of Kyra’s suit. She was smacking Cam’s hands away—no wonder, as IA, Kyra didn’t need to be seen getting pawed at by her fiancé. They might doubt her objectivity.

  Paige had mentioned problems with people over her own husband, Kyra’s supervisor, Mick.

  “Lake, cut it out, you’re embarrassing her. People might think she has bad taste in men or something.”

  “She does. But I’m taking advantage of it. Her. I’m going to take real advantage of her later.”

  Ezra snorted, but inside, he was thrilled for his friend.

  Kyra had come damned close to dying. No one would forget that anytime soon. Cam was more than over the moon because of the baby she was now carrying. It was a real miracle kid, considering what she’d gone through.

  Shannon said something to tease them both, but no one had missed how subdued she was. Normally, she was the firecracker of the group.

  Or she used to be.

  He hated the look of trepidation in those big brown eyes of hers.

  Ezra made it his mission. For the rest of the night, he was going to help her get through this.

  Make her feel safe at Smokey’s again.

  FORTY-FOUR

  CHAS CONCENTRATED ON his breathing like he’d been trained. He knew what he was doing. Thanks to the US Government, he knew exactly how to make himself near invisible. Undetectable. He’d just gotten better since his discharge five years ago.

  No one ever saw Charles Sefton the Second.

  A ghost, someone who didn’t matter. Someone no one could see. Amelia had seen him. Loved him. Just him.

  He’d never forget that. Forget her.

  His whole world had died with her that day. Amelia, the baby they’d created together. Killed. Lost.

  He’d never forget the sight of bullets tearing into her body. Never forget holding her in the damned heat, begging God to keep her alive. To bring them help.

  It had been exactly five years to the date that he’d lost her.

  She’d been expendable. Just another number. So easily forgotten.

  By all but him and her mother. Chas made a point of checking on Amelia’s mother ever so often. She hadn’t looked good this last time. He suspected she was numbing her pain with prescription drugs. He’d promised Amelia before she’d died that he would take care of her mother.

  Chas didn’t know how to do that. Not the way it should be done.

  The parking garage he perched on was at least a bit out of the sun. He still felt the heat wafting off the hard concrete. But it didn’t matter. The sun would set eventually. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  Chas had passed the FBI buildings and some demon had made him search for the best position to take out a target.

  One of his targets was an FBI agent, after all.

  But it wasn’t her that Chas really waited to see.

  It was Ezra.

  Ezra was in there.

  He didn’t hate Ezra Hahn. Of all the men who’d been there that day, Ezra had done his best to help. He’d just been too fucking far away to do much good. He’d arrived too late.

  Of course, Ezra should have known better than to ever have Amelia that close, anyway.

  It took four hours of him waiting for the man he wante
d to appear. The binoculars he used were of the best quality, able to see details from distances that were unbelievable compared to what the tech was ten years ago.

  Ezra hadn’t changed much. His hair was shorter and he was cleaner shaven. Still looked like the beanpole asshole he’d always been.

  Chas shifted the binoculars to the left. Toward the woman walking at Ezra’s side.

  He pursed his lips and a silent whistle slid out. He recognized her, of course. He was always thrilled to see her.

  Not a raving beauty, but damned fine in that wholesome-cute kind of way Chas had always found attractive. At least from a distance.

  Small, though. Very small. He smiled. He’d always liked petite women.

  Work colleague? Or more? In the weeks since her rescue, he’d never once seen her with Ezra. What was she doing now?

  Chas took more photos. He would study them later. Study every nuance of the other man’s expressions.

  Ezra wasn’t the type to outwardly shout his involvement with women; Chas would give him that. The guy had always played the game quietly. Ezra hadn’t been a damned eunuch, but he hadn’t been an over-the-top player like Morten or Schneider.

  Chas hurried down the rear fire escape of the building until he reached streetside. He wasn’t going to be able to get into that parking garage, but he should be able to pick out Ezra’s truck when the man left.

  Ezra had had that same damned truck five years ago. It was his prized possession. A restored 1984 Dodge. Chas would know it when he saw it anywhere.

  He slipped into the small economy rental he’d left parked in front of the PAVAD building for that very purpose.

  And waited.

  He should find out where his next target—a female FBI agent—lived. He would study her for several weeks to make certain he would not be caught.

  Instead, he waited. And followed Ezra out when the familiar truck drove by, a man and woman just visible in the streetlights.

  FORTY-FIVE

  SMOKEY’S WAS THE same as it had always been. With a few exceptions. The dance floor had expanded a bit. And there were a few more items on the ever-changing menu.