Santa's Subpoena Page 16

  I opened my mouth and then shut it. Okay. That was quite the question, and my heart warmed for her. Man, I hope she and Yara liked each other. It’d be such a great place for Violet to be safe and loved. “A guy like that might be lucky enough to get you—if he treats you right and realizes how amazing you are every day.” Hadn’t anybody ever given her that kind of assurance? I wasn’t used to mentoring kids since I still felt like one sometimes, so I had to struggle for the right words. This felt important, and I didn’t want to screw it up. “You can only be you in this life, and that’s a good thing because you’re awesome.”

  She rolled her eyes, but a pleased smile hinted on her lips. “Whatever.”

  “It’s true. You just be you. Be strong and smart and make good decisions. The right guy will like you for all that you are.”

  “I’ll finish those file folders now.” She chuckled and stood. “Aiden must really like you if getting a cut off finger in a box is a regular workday for you.”

  I smiled. “You’re not wrong.”

  Her worn tennis shoes scattered glitter as she left.

  I took a deep breath, my ears heating. The world narrowed around me. Ah, a panic attack. Made sense. My vision blurred. Why was it when I felt safe, the panic attacks always hit? Confirming that the hallway was empty for now, I quietly pushed my chair back, squatted, turned, and planted my butt beneath my desk, hugged my legs to my chest, and closed my eyes.

  I have no idea how long I sat there.

  A sound caught my attention, and I opened my eyes to see black motorcycle boots and jeans. Then Aiden crouched, having to bend sideways to see me, his eyes many colors of blue. “How bad?”

  I shivered.

  He sighed. “That bad.”

  Chapter 23

  There are times in your life that you know you’re surrounded by good people. Hopefully.

  “I’ll be right back.” Aiden disappeared for about a minute and then returned, his motorcycle boots loud on the wood, and this time appearing with even more silver glitter across the tips. He sat, tossing up sparkles. “I sent the kids on errands and locked the door, although there’s a uniformed officer right outside. Pierce must’ve sent someone over.” Then Aiden reached for me, plucking me out from under my desk and onto his lap. “Just breathe.”

  I snuggled against his chest. “I’m better now.”

  “I thought we were getting the panic attacks under control,” he murmured, his chin on the top of my head.

  “Me, too.”

  He shifted his weight and put his back to the wall behind my desk, his head touching the windowsill. “The roses and heart were bothering you, and the finger probably just pushed you over the edge.”

  I shuddered. “It was so grotesque.”

  “Butchered fingers usually are.”

  I snorted. My mind wandered and then returned. “The kids didn’t know—”

  “No. They had no clue you were hunkered beneath your desk,” he said softly. “I, on the other hand, would’ve appreciated a phone call when that became necessary. Pierce gave me a heads up about what had happened, so I headed over here.”

  I blinked. “I can’t count on you to rescue me all the time, you know.”

  “Why not?”

  Because I didn’t want him to think I was a weak woman who couldn’t handle things.

  He leaned back and tipped my face up with one knuckle. “Don’t be dumb.”

  I stilled. “Dumb?”

  “Yeah. I think you’re smart and I know you’re capable. But nobody is immune to a panic attack, and if this helps—” he tightened his hold around me “—then you need to call. We’re in this together, remember?” The play of muscle beneath his shirt felt strong and powerful while his voice remained soft and gentle.

  “I know,” I said, and I did. “Before the other night, it’s just been so long since I had an attack. I just haven’t been prepared. Sometimes jumping beneath the desk is the best and quickest move.” The glitter wafted up, and I sneezed. Twice.

  “Bless you,” he said. “You’re not shaking any longer.”

  “Nope.” I relaxed. “When is it my turn to rescue you?”

  His smile was slow and too sexy for my peace of mind. “You rescue me every day. Just by being you.”

  Now that was so sweet I could barely think…and nicely in line with the advice I’d given Violet.

  “Plus, you have rescued me. Gun and all, remember?” he asked.

  I nodded. We weren’t keeping score, but if we were, he was totally ahead in the rescuing department. But I could live with that—he was a modern day protector, after all. “I think I can get up now. Where did you send Oliver and Violet, anyway?”

  “I told them I needed holiday decorations for the new office and gave them a credit card.” He frowned. “But I didn’t give them a budget.”

  “They’re smart kids and won’t overspend.” I brightened. “Hey. You rented the former spa to use as your office?”

  He kissed the top of my nose. “Yeah. Well, to be more exact, I bought the building and then rented the office for our ATF team. It’s all legit and I disclosed all details.”

  My heart warmed. “You bought the building?” He wanted to stay in town.

  “Yeah. I need to diversify my portfolio.”

  He had a portfolio? I had a savings account with less than twenty dollars in it. “Huh,” I said. “That sounds very responsible.”

  “That’s me.” His phone vibrated against me, and he dug it out of his front pocket. “Devlin.”

  I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth, forcing my body to relax now that the panic attack had abated. Even so, when he stiffened, I stilled.

  “Yeah. Got it. Thanks.” He clicked off.

  “What?” I asked.

  He looked down at me, measuring. “So I didn’t have to drive down there, I had two of the guys from the Portland gang moved up here temporarily so we could interview them and see how we were burned. We have them housed at the Airway Heights Corrections Center in Washington, and Saber brought them over here for interrogation. Pierce is letting us use their station.”

  “That’s good.” I moved to get off his lap, but he kept me nicely in place. “How long do you have them?”

  “Just two days, and then they go back to Oregon for trial.”

  “Oh. You should go, then.”

  He stood in one smooth motion, still holding me. Then he set me on my desk. “I don’t think I should leave you.”

  I looked up, feeling better. Feeling almost solid again. “I’m good. When the kids get back, we’ll keep the door locked, and while I was planning to venture into Spokane with Bernie, I’ll put that off until tomorrow.”

  “What time?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” I ran my hands up his arms. “I’ll be fine. Now go do your work.” I couldn’t keep him from his job any longer.

  He glanced at his watch. “Either I’m with you, or a uniformed officer is with you until we figure out who just sent the finger.”

  I was more interested in the owner of said finger. “It’s good that Pierce has assigned an officer to us during the day, especially since the kids have been around.” I wasn’t a moron and would take backup any chance I got.

  Aiden nodded. “Agreed. Speaking of Pierce, I have a call into him but haven’t heard back yet. Are we sure the finger was real?”

  “The crime scene guy said it was real, but that’s all he’d say.” I tried to banish thoughts of cut off fingers. “I can’t see how it was a joke.”

  “It’s no joke,” Aiden said grimly.

  I hopped off the desk, feeling a little light-headed like usual after a panic attack, but my breathing had normalized, and I could think again. “I’ll go to the station and see if Pierce knows anything. There was no way I was getting any work done this afternoon. A bloody stump of a finger did that to a gal. I reached over and rolled the chair closer to my desk.

  “I’m headed that way to interview a prisoner and will drive yo
u.” Aiden looked me over. “Your plan is a good one, but there’s one problem. You have glitter all over your ass.”

  A tall blonde with killer legs nearly knocked me over as I tried to enter Pierce’s office. Her hair was up in a fancy do, her makeup flawless, and her heels Prada. The suit she wore was a green linen skirt with matching jacket, and she smelled like lavender. She stormed out, and even her high heels kicked up irritation as she swept by me, heading for the stairs to the main floor.

  I gulped, pausing, and then poked my head in his door. “You okay?”

  Pierce sat behind his desk, his jaw tight, his tie looking like he’d yanked it to the side. “Yeah. What’s up?”

  I looked down the empty hallway, steeled my shoulders, and moved inside to gingerly sit in one of his guest chairs. “Should you go after her?”

  “No. That was a breakup.” He didn’t sound horribly upset, but he didn’t sound happy, either.

  “Why?” I figured we were kind of friends.

  He looked at the papers, case files, and empty coffee cups on his desk. “My job. Like usual.”

  I swallowed.

  Then he cocked his head to the side. “How do you handle Devlin’s job? He’s not even in town very often.”

  I shrugged. “Well, he handles mine, and I figure we can deal with situations as they arise.” I tried to dig deeper. “I guess I’d rather have him in my life and not my town than in my town and not my life.” It was as philosophical as I got.

  “Humph,” Pierce said, picking glitter off his arm. “We all look like we’ve been to a strip club.”

  That was more than an opening, and it looked like he didn’t want to discuss the end of his relationship with the sexy blonde. “Any news on the finger?”

  “Just that it’s a finger that was removed postmortem,” he said. “The prints, or rather print, was all cut up and destroyed, maybe with a droplet of acid, so that’s no help.”

  Shoot. I figured maybe a print would lead us to the owner of the finger. “Well, somebody has to show up, right?” Postmortem? At least the person hadn’t lost a finger while alive. “From what I saw, the finger didn’t look too decayed.” The reality of that fact had a lump of granite dropping into my stomach. “Which means that the person hadn’t been dead very long before having the finger removed.”

  Pierce’s gaze narrowed. “Yep.”

  “So we have a dead body out there without a finger.” I shuddered, wishing I didn’t have to follow that train of thought. “The finger looked male?” Although it had been swollen and apparently desecrated, so I couldn’t be sure.

  “Running DNA now, and we’ll know later today or tomorrow. Called in a couple of favors,” Pierce admitted. “For now, we need to keep somebody on you.”

  I had no problem with that. “I left the uniformed officer at the office for Clark, Violet, and the boys since I’m here.”

  Pierce reached for a pen to tap on the desk. “That’s fine, but again, I don’t think I can spare anybody at night. The flu is still kicking us in the teeth, and I’m down several officers.”

  “That’s okay. I’m armed and so is Aiden.” I was grateful Aiden was back in town. I needed to take Violet over the hill to Silverville and get her out of the line of fire. Just one more night and she’d be safe and away from me. Hopefully she and Aunt Yara would like each other. I couldn’t imagine anybody not liking either one of them.

  Pierce’s phone rang, and he lifted it to his ear. “Pierce.” He pushed several notebooks out of the way and pulled a case file off the bottom of a pile. “Yeah. I have that right here. I’m thinking the witnesses—”

  I stood, waved, and exited his office.

  He didn’t look up. One thing about Pierce, when he was on a case, he was a bloodhound. The lavender-scented blonde apparently hadn’t understood that fact.

  My phone dinged and I scrambled in my purse for it. “Anna Albertini,” I answered.

  “Hi Anna, it’s Florence,” Florence said quietly. “I finally read Lawrence’s letter, the one the lawyer gave to me?”

  My heart rate sped up, and I leaned against the wall, ignoring the hustle around me. “Yes? What did it say?”

  “Nothing much. Well, he said that he loved me and was so proud that I had chosen him out of all his friends. That he’d done whatever he had to do to make that happen because it was true love for us.” She sighed. “He didn’t confess to anything, but I did end up choosing him, and if he set Bernie up, that could be what he was talking about. Or maybe not. Maybe he was just saying that sending me flowers and courting me was what he had to do. I just don’t know.”

  “It’s okay,” I hastened to say. “You don’t have to know.”

  She sniffed. “They were good friends, though. For years—going way back. I feel badly I came between them, although if Lawrence tricked Bernie in such a horrible manner, he wasn’t who I thought he was. I’m just confused.”

  I couldn’t blame her. “We’ll figure it out, I promise. For now, is there any chance I could get you to fire Thelma and Georgiana? I love those two, and I don’t want to see them get hurt.”

  “They’ll be fine,” she said. “You can’t count them out just because they’re old. We have a lot to contribute, you know.”

  I grimaced. Those two courted trouble even stronger than I did, but I wasn’t going to insult her. “All right. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thanks, Anna. Good day to you,” Florence said, sounding more cheerful.

  “You, too.” I hung up. How was I going to put an end to Hawk Investigations?

  Sighing, I tapped the back of my head against the wall several times in a move I’d seen Aiden do more than once. Glitter wafted down to shine on the wooden floor.

  Chapter 24

  I hovered in the hallway for a second and then figured why not? Smiling at a couple of officers and passing several offices, I headed to the far end of the floor where the interrogation rooms were located. Aiden hadn’t exactly said I wasn’t welcome to watch. The light over the second room was on, so I dodged around the corner to the observation room, silently entering and shutting the door before walking toward the two-way mirror.

  Aiden sat with his back to me, facing a monstrous man with a bulbous nose, the vibe tense in the room. Silver glitter sparkled in the back of Aiden’s dark hair, and I winced. Saber sat next to him, kicked back in his chair, his brown hair longer than it had been last time I’d seen him. They both wore ATF jackets and guns strapped to their thighs, looking tough and broad.

  It was weird to see Aiden on the cop side of the table. Any other time I’d watched him in interrogation, he’d been the one being interrogated. Interesting.

  Even though the atmosphere looked tense, he appeared to be relaxed. At least from behind.

  “Either you want to deal, or you don’t,” he was saying, his voice level and calm.

  I stepped closer to the window for a better view of the prisoner in the orange jumpsuit. His swollen and red nose went with the rest of him. Wide chest, big belly, arms that had gone to fat. He had to be in his mid-forties, and his bloodshot eyes showed he’d spent several of those decades experimenting with leaving this reality. If he was selling drugs, he’d been sampling them first.

  “I’ve got nothin’ for you. Like I said,” he muttered, his shoulders twitching along with his upper lip.

  “Looks like you’re coming down pretty hard,” Aiden murmured. “That’s unfortunate. I can’t promise you drugs, but I can promise you less prison time if you work with us. Or not. At this point, I’m about done, Sorenson.”

  Saber slid his boots closer to his chair, losing the chill look. “Me, too. It’s lunchtime, and I’m hungry. Either tell us how our cover was blown, or we’re leaving. My gut feeling is that you don’t owe anybody anything, so either take care of yourself or not.”

  Aiden nodded. “This is getting boring.”

  Sorenson’s beady eyes looked from Saber to Aiden. If I had to guess, his spirit animal was one of those huge rats you find
in alleys in New York City right after they put all the garbage out for the night in Times Square. “I want immunity.”

  Aiden burst out laughing. “Shit. I don’t care that much about how we were busted, asshole. It’s more curiosity at this point, and immunity is off the table. Completely and forever.” He shoved his chair back. “Let’s go eat, Saber. We’re done here.”

  “No. Wait.” Panic slithered over Sorenson’s blotchy skin. “Just wait a minute.”

  Saber stood. “This is a waste of time.”

  “Wait.” Sorenson waved a hand, his nails too long and a dented yellow. “Fine. I’ll tell you. You’ll talk to the federal prosecutor for me?”

  Saber sat back down.

  Aiden nodded; pieces of silver glitter fell down his back. “Yeah. We’ll talk to her, and it’ll help with whatever deal you get. If you go to trial, we’ll let the judge know you cooperated. Your future is all in your control. For now.”

  Sorenson sighed. “Fine. I don’t have a lot.” He wiped the corner of his mouth, his shakes getting stronger. “It was just a note.”

  Aiden was quiet for a moment until Sorenson started squirming even more.

  “A note.” Aiden sounded bored. “Not enough. Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” Sorenson snapped, his eyes bugging out. “Honest. It was a note saying you two were undercover ATF officers, left on my bike outside of Sally’s Bar. That’s all. Simple.”

  Aiden glanced at Saber. “Don’t we have the footage from the cameras outside of Sally’s?”

  Saber nodded. “Just had it gathered but haven’t had time to go through it.”

  “I saw the guy,” Sorenson admitted. “Was coming out, kind of drunk, and saw him leave the note. I chased him but, like I said, I was kinda drunk. Then curious. So I read the note.”

  “What did he look like?” Aiden asked.

  Sorenson shrugged, and his belly jiggled. “Like a guy. Maybe in his forties, big nose, glasses, brown hair. Nothing special about him.”

  Aiden looked over his shoulder, right at me.

  Huh. I hadn’t realized he’d known I was there, but again, it was Aiden.