Allison Brennan - Silenced

“I missed you, Princess.” He sounded like they’d been apart for a week, not one night.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” She sat up. Sean still lay on his back. “You always listen to me, I want to know what is bothering you about this project.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, but that was okay with Lucy. She let him think about it while she changed. He sat up to watch her. Though being watched by strangers still made her extremely uncomfortable, Sean didn’t. He was one of the few she felt so relaxed with that she almost felt normal. He’d healed wounds so deep she hadn’t even known they were there until he exposed them to light, and to love.

When she was done dressing, she sat back on the bed and kissed him.

Sean said, “It’s a complicated case.”

She didn’t say anything, but let him continue at his own pace. Sean was rarely reticent-he shared everything, his thoughts and emotions, both good and bad. His sharp wit and biting criticism of law enforcement had often gotten him in trouble with Noah and others, but one of the many things Lucy loved about Sean was that he didn’t keep everything bottled inside, like she did. He believed in addressing problems head-on.

“A college kid, from my alma mater MIT, did something stupid.” He hesitated again.

“I’m not going to turn him in to the feds, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not.” But he relaxed, just a bit, and Lucy wondered if that’s what his fear really was-that he couldn’t share something because of her position with the FBI.

“Sean, you know you can trust me. I’m not so naive to think that RCK doesn’t handle some less-than-squeaky-clean cases. Two of my brothers work there. Don’t let my job make you think you have to keep secrets.”

“I trust you, Luce, more than anyone.” He took both her hands, kissed them, then held tightly. “It’s just complex. He’s nearly twenty-one, he should have known better. He decided to play Robin Hood.”

“Steal from the rich and give to the poor?”

“You make it sound like a crime.”

“It is a crime.”

“What if he stole from a thief?”

“It sounds like you have a complicated case.”

“I’m trying to help him fix things so he doesn’t do any jail time.”

Sean had such a soft spot for young people. The teenager in the Adirondacks who nearly burned down the lodge they were staying at, who nearly killed Sean, had been only the most recent in a long line of desperate kids who felt they had nowhere to turn for help. She knew part of his drive was because of his own troubled childhood, losing both of his parents in a plane crash when he was fourteen, and his subsequent rebellion against a brother who was himself too young to know what to do with a grieving genius.

“I know whatever you do, you’ll fix it and everyone will get what they need.” She smiled and kissed him. “That kid is lucky to have you on his side.”

There was a loud knock on Lucy’s door. “Get your butt downstairs, Lucy,” Kate said, “and tell Sean he wasn’t so smart that I didn’t know he broke into my house again. ”

“You need a better security system,” Sean called back.

“Ass,” Kate said. “Two minutes, Lucy.”

Sean grinned. He really liked Kate. “She loves me,” he said.

“That doesn’t mean she won’t get back at you,” Lucy teased.

“That’ll be fun.” Sean wished he had more time with Lucy. He needed her. But she had a job to do. And so did he. He probably shouldn’t have even stopped by this morning, but it was early and he’d just wanted to see her.

“I have to go-set the alarm on your way out, or Kate really will have your hide.”

Lucy kissed him one last time and left. Sean wondered if she would have been as understanding if she knew the kid from MIT he’d told her about was himself, nine and a half years ago.

He heard Kate and Lucy drive off. He retrieved the note from the trash can, glad he had changed his mind. Lucy didn’t need any additional pressure, and he shouldn’t leave it in writing. He blamed lack of sleep for his near-slip.

Luce-

You were right about Paxton. Do not trust him. Do not believe anything he says. He’s not your friend.

He tore it into quarters, then went downstairs to Kate’s office. He pushed each piece through the shredder, glad that there was already paper in the can beneath. To be safe, he mixed up the small squares, then left.

He had another house to break into.

SSA Josh Stein acted like a kid on a sugar rush, he was so excited by the new intel, coupled with the financial statements of all the businesses and individuals who had rented executive suite 710 in the last six months. Noah almost began to like him.

“Look-they all connect somehow to DSA. Enviro Solutions hired them as their lobbyist. They get the suite, and then their retainer doubled. Mrs. Erica Craig is in the suite and wham, she makes a big donation to a nonprofit client of DSA.”

“It’ll still be difficult to prove there was illegal activity. Unless someone comes forward as a blackmail victim, Devon Sullivan can claim she’s just a good saleswoman.”

“I’m going to prove that she’s corrupt. Because she is. It’s all here-I feel it. And when I get little old Betty Dare in interrogation, she’s going to sing. She gives us one word that Devon Sullivan bribed or attempted to bribe, blackmailed or attempted to blackmail, even one person, the AUSA has a judge on standby. This is the biggest case of my career. Of your career!”

Noah didn’t agree. It would probably be the most high-profile case of Noah’s career, but he would much prefer to stick to the relative anonymity of violent crimes, putting killers behind bars rather than gunning for con artists and corrupt politicians. But he realized while working with Josh that they needed agents with passion for what they did, because criminals, violent or not, needed to be stopped.

“Devon Sullivan didn’t kill five people,” Noah said. “Betty Dare has only been implicated as part of the blackmail scheme.”

Josh waved his hand in dismissal. “You know what they say-we get them any way we can. Al Capone was a killer, but we nailed him on tax evasion. So if we can’t get her on conspiracy of murder, then we get her with this.” He tapped his files.

“I want the killer. There are three young women in grave danger, Josh,” Noah said. When he saw that Josh wasn’t paying attention, Noah barked out, “Stein!”

Josh looked at him, startled.

“Did you hear me?” Noah said.

“Yeah, you want to find the killer.” He was already turning his head away to look at his columns of numbers. “I’m with you on that.”

Noah grabbed his wrist and squeezed.

“Shit, Armstrong! Let go!”

Noah held on. “If you blow this, if you and your pet AUSA offer any immunity without talking to me, I will make your life Hell. Devon Sullivan did not kill Wendy James. She did not slit the throat of Nicole Bellows, or stab a social worker to death. I want to know who did it, and if she hired the killer, I want her, too. For first-degree, premeditated, special circumstances, homicide. ”

Josh’s eyes darted to the SWAT driver as if looking for rescue, but the other cop didn’t acknowledge him. Noah dropped his wrist. He’d made his point.

The small SWAT team that was helping Noah and Josh execute the warrant reported that they had arrived, were in position, and were awaiting instructions.

Noah took the command headset from Josh. “On my call,” he said.

They got out and entered the lobby two minutes after seven that morning.

Noah took the stairs up to Betty Dare’s second-floor apartment. He pounded on the door. “FBI! We have a warrant! Open up!”