Relentless (Sinister Secrets Book 3) Read online

  Maybe it was a new case. Like he’d told Kevyn.

  Although that wasn’t the vibe he’d gotten from the assistant. But if not that, then what?

  Well, he’d find out soon enough.

  He stepped into the SAC’s outer office, drawing the attention of the silver-haired woman behind an orderly desk.

  The assistant waved him in. “Go on in. You’re expected.”

  Of course he was.

  Still, Dak knocked once before twisting the knob and pushing the door open.

  Sorenson looked up from some papers on his desk. Another man, in black slacks and a green button-down shirt, turned to face him.

  He didn’t recognize the other man.

  “Lakes. Have a seat.”

  Dak pushed the door closed behind him and followed Sorenson’s instructions, easing himself into the chair opposite the other man.

  “This is Detective Trumball from SPD.”

  SPD? What were they doing here? And what did it have to do with…?

  Caiden.

  The air eked from his lungs.

  Something had happened to his brother. He was dead. Or maimed. In a coma.

  One bad scenario after another raced through his mind.

  “Is Caiden okay?”

  The detective pulled back. “Who?”

  Okay, so maybe it wasn’t about his brother. Still, best to be certain. “Caiden Lakes. He’s on SWAT.”

  The detective shrugged. “Far as I know.”

  Dak sagged back against the chair. Oxygen flooded his lungs, which at some point during the last few seconds had ceased to work.

  “You know a guy named Harley Green?”

  The detective’s question stripped the relief from his mind.

  Why was the guy asking about Cap? A sour taste filled his mouth. “Yeah. We served together. Navy SWCC.”

  “He was abducted this morning.”

  Abducted.

  The word hung in the air like an echo.

  Abducted.

  Dak blinked. “Cap?”

  The detective offered a concise nod. “All roads point to you.”

  To him? “You’re sure? About Cap?”

  The detective rose and retrieved something from Sorenson’s desk before passing it across to him.

  Dak took the paper, which turned out to be a photograph. Printed from a security camera, judging by the angle and overall quality.

  On it, two figures wearing FBI jackets guided a wheelchair. Visible on one side of the image was a storm-battered building. The sign on the building identified it as Fisherman’s Wharf General Store.

  That was on the dock. Near where Cap kept his boat.

  He narrowed his eyes on the figure slumped in the wheelchair, but the distance was too great for him to positively identify the man.

  “You sure this is Cap?”

  The detective nodded. “Reasonably. Guy who works at the general store saw them go by and recognized Green’s clothes. We’re waiting on forensics for the blood found at the scene.”

  “There was blood?” Surely Cap was at a hospital, then. Not missing.

  “Just a little. Not enough to make us believe he’s dead.”

  None of this was making sense. “You said abducted, but the FBI would have taken him to a hospital.”

  Sorenson cleared his throat. “We didn’t have any agents at the dock this morning.”

  Those weren’t FBI agents. The truth crashed through his mind.

  “You’re saying someone dressed up as the FBI to abduct Cap?” Pain pulsed behind Dak’s eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Cap… missing? “I saw him this morning. He was fine.”

  The detective didn’t look surprised. Of course they knew that Dak had seen Cap that morning. It was probably why the detective was here. Dak would’ve been one of the last to see Cap before this happened.

  “Walk me through the last time you saw him.” The detective’s conversational tone grated on his nerves.

  “I arrived at the diner at 6:27 a.m. Cap was already there.” He briefly recapped the highlights of the hour they’d spent at the diner, leaving out the finer points of their conversation.

  “And he never mentioned anyone threatening him? Following him? Any problems?”

  Dak swallowed hard. “No. Everything was fine. He was taking those tourists into international waters today. He was making plans to head south during the slow winter months to see his grandkids. He had no idea something like this was coming. I’m sure of it.”

  The detective asked a few more mundane questions about the diner, the servers, the other patrons, but nothing had stood out. Nothing.

  It had been like every other breakfast he and Cap had there.

  When the detective seemed to run out of questions, Dak glanced between the detective and Sorenson. “Can you walk me through what you know?”

  This wasn’t his case and the detective certainly didn’t owe him an explanation, but he was hoping professional courtesy would be enough.

  The detective rested his hand lightly on his leg and leaned back in the chair. “Tourists called it in. They said they’d hired Green to take them to B.C. for the day. When they got there, they found blood on the dock and no sign of Green.”

  The detective gestured to the picture still clutched between Dak’s fingers. “Got the security footage and found that, but these two load him into a black cargo van.”

  Legitimate agents on official business wouldn’t have been driving a cargo van. Besides, Sorenson had already confirmed no one had been down there this morning.

  Numbness invaded his chest.

  These people, whoever they were, had gone to pretty great lengths to abduct Cap. Why? Cap wasn’t wealthy. What would make a charter captain a target for kidnappers?

  “Lakes, there’s something else you need to see.” Sorenson scowled in the detective’s direction before passing another photograph to Dak.

  The image seared his mind.

  Written in crude red letters across the weathered boards of the dock were three words.

  Dak Lakes FBI.

  Two

  He couldn’t tear his eyes from the words.

  It had to be some kind of sick joke.

  He looked up at Sorenson, then the detective. Wished one of them would crack a smile and say “gotcha.” Neither man looked amused.

  The words called to him and he shifted his gaze downward. The crimson letters stared back.

  “Is that… blood?” The color was unmistakable, but there were paints in that same shade.

  “Yes. Waiting on confirmation that it’s our vic’s, but it seems unlikely to belong to anyone else. It was on the dock right in front of his boat.”

  Bile burned the back of his throat.

  Cap had been abducted. Was it because of him?

  Or had Cap written the message while being attacked? Maybe calling for help?

  It seemed unlikely that the kidnappers would have allowed Cap time to do that, but without knowing all the details, it was impossible to say.

  Whether it was because of him or not, someone clearly wanted to get his attention.

  And they had it.

  His jaw clenched.

  Cap needed him. He wouldn’t rest until he found Cap and brought him home alive.

  He met Sorenson’s eyes. “I want in.”

  “I thought you might.” Sorenson shifted his attention to the detective. “Given that impersonating an FBI agent is a federal offense, we’ll be assisting with this investigation.”

  “Truth is, I could use the extra manpower.” The detective rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re down a few people. One’s recovering from surgery, one’s on maternity leave, and another was injured on the job yesterday. Skeleton crew is an understatement.”

  Thank you, God. Now he had to convince Sorenson.

  “Sir, permission to run point on this case? I know the victim. I know his wife. She trusts me. And clearly someone wants me on this.” He looked pointedly at his blood-painted name.
/>
  Sorenson frowned. “Your personal connection is precisely why you shouldn’t be the primary on this one.”

  The answer, even though expected, made him want to put his fist through a wall. “So demote me for this case. Put JD in charge. He’s more than capable of running this investigation.”

  “You shouldn’t be anywhere near this case.”

  Sounded more like an invitation to argue than a refusal. Dak pressed ahead. “I owe this man. I wouldn’t even be sitting here right now if it wasn’t for him. He saved my life on more than one occasion, taught me what it truly meant to be SWCC.”

  There was so much more to it than that, but he didn’t want to get into it all. Not here. Not with Sorenson and this detective.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m fine with handing this case over to you guys.” The detective looked between him and Sorenson. “I’ve got more on my desk than I can handle. If you want this one, it’s yours.”

  Sorenson pressed his lips together and stared at Dak for what felt like minutes. A sigh burst out. “Fine. But Dominguez is lead agent on this case. And Lakes? By the book. On absolutely everything. Do not give a defense lawyer something to use against us, got it?”

  Like he even had to ask? “I always do.”

  “I know. And your adherence to the rules is the only reason I’m allowing this.”

  The detective rose. “I’ll send over what little we’ve got so far. Good luck to you.”

  He didn’t need luck. He had God, and his own stubborn determination.

  They would find Cap and bring him home.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  If Dak had looked tired before his meeting with SAC Sorenson, he looked positively haggard now.

  Kevyn shot up a quick prayer for him.

  Must be a whopper of a case he’d picked up from Sorenson.

  She knew it was a case because Dak had sent out a group text for everyone to meet him in the conference room.

  The fact that he’d sent it before even returning to the office told her that whatever it was, it was big. Or someone important. Sadly, the identity of the victim often dictated the weight given to the case.

  As Sid walked in and closed the door behind him, all attention shifted to Dak.

  Lines creased his forehead and the bags beneath his eyes appeared deeper, but his gaze sliced the room like a machete. “We have a new case. I’ll bring you all up to speed, but then JD is taking the lead on this one.”

  The air in the room thinned as the words settled around them.

  Why was JD taking the lead? Surely Dak wasn’t… involved in the missing persons case?

  “I’ll be working the case with you guys, but I can’t be the lead on it. The victim is an old Navy buddy of mine. I had breakfast with him this morning and might’ve been one of the last to see him before he was abducted.”

  Oh wow. No wonder Dak looked so ragged.

  Although JD was more than capable, it must be hard for Dak to release control, especially when the case was personal.

  JD offered a tight nod. “Whatever you need, man. We’ve got your back.”

  “Thanks.” He dropped into a chair and surveyed the group. “Victim is Harley Green. Former Special Warfare Combatant-Craft Crewman. I was part of his team after I made SWCC. He worked twenty-five years in the field, then another ten training new SWCC recruits. He retired three years ago and moved back to Seattle.”

  “It’s pretty weird that you were both on the same team and both from Seattle, isn’t it?” Kevyn kept her tone light, although she’d done enough research to know what an elite – and small – group the SWCC was.

  “Not really.” Dak rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s the reason I became SWCC. There was this career fair my junior year in high school. He was in town visiting family and the Navy asked him to help man the Navy’s booth. We got to talking and by the time I left, I knew I wanted to be SWCC. We’d clicked, and he gave me his contact info so we could keep in touch. Long story short, when I made SWCC, he requested to have me on his team and they granted his request.”

  “What can you tell us about Green now?” JD asked, pen poised above the yellow lined notepad in front of him.

  “He runs a private charter service. Mostly whale-watching and fishing trips. His wife is a retired elementary teacher. They have three kids, all out of state. Five grandkids. They were planning to head south to see them this winter.” A pained look twisted Dak’s features.

  “Well, let’s make sure they can still do that.” JD speared Dak with intense eyes. “What do we know about the abduction?”

  “It happened around 7:50 this morning. Two people dressed up as FBI agents loaded him in the back of a black van.”

  While Dak recapped the details, Kevyn jotted a few notes. Not that she’d likely refer to them again, but writing them down helped her remember.

  Besides, it gave her something to focus on other than the anguish in Dak’s voice and the haunted look in his eyes.

  They’d all witnessed too many poor outcomes to ignore the statistics.

  As Dak wrapped up his briefing, JD looked around the room. “Okay. Dak, you get the vic’s wife. See if Green has been stressed or threatened. Kev & Sid, talk to the boat owners around Green’s boat. Maybe one of them saw something or noticed something out of the ordinary lately. Felicia, you get his financials. See if anything looks suspicious. I’ll work on tracking down the black van and FBI jackets. We know the kidnappers aren’t our guys, but they got those jackets somewhere.”

  An unusual weight blanketed the group in silence as they all left the room.

  This was personal.

  She hoped it didn’t have a tragic ending.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Maggie navigated the ladder leading below deck. The ship’s subtle movements soothed her as few things could.

  It felt right being on a ship again.

  Descending into the lowest bowels of the ship, she waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Several exposed bulbs, spaced out at regular intervals, cast long shadows in all directions. Dampness added a chill in the air, raising goosebumps on her arms.

  Finding this decommissioned military vessel had been a stroke of luck. Obtaining it had been even easier.

  A racking cough came from the darkness.

  Probably Mulligan. He was the oldest. And the first one they’d snagged.

  The cough came again, longer and raspier.

  Her eyes narrowed. That didn’t sound good. Not at all.

  Heat flared within her. She’d bring him another blanket. Maybe figure out how to activate the heating system on this ancient vessel. Not that she cared if he was sick, but he couldn’t die. Not yet.

  She’d planned too long, too hard, for him to die before his time.

  “Hey!” A man’s voice hollered. “I know you’re there!”

  Of course he did. They all would have heard her coming.

  She didn’t dignify him with a response.

  Instead, she moved down the wide hallway, passing the first occupied cell, the second, the third. A hand shot out of the third cell, straining to reach her, but falling inches short.

  Idiot. Did he really think she didn’t know how to remain out of arm’s reach?

  She stopped by the fourth cell. Mulligan’s cell.

  Ragged breathing met her ears.

  She flipped a switch on the wall opposite his cell, flooding the small space with light.

  Mulligan had to be in his sixties, but he’d kept himself in decent shape. His trim frame no longer had the muscle toning it would have had during his SEAL days, but didn’t carry a lot of extra weight either.

  He stared at her, his gaze hollow, his eyes dull. A gray hue gave his face a deathly pallor. A sheen glistened on his forehead as his body shivered uncontrollably beneath the scratchy blanket.

  The man looked half a step away from death already.

  “He’s sick.” Rand, the man in the third cell, snapped. “Do something!”

  Li
ke she really cared. She shot a cold look at Rand. “I could put a bullet between your eyes. Does that count as doing something?”

  Rand clenched his fists and his eyes narrowed into slits.

  Turning off the light in Mulligan’s cell, she moved toward the final occupied one. The space where they’d dumped Harley Green.

  The man sat with his back against the far wall, head cradled in his hands.

  Even though he didn’t look up, the stiffening of his body acknowledged her presence. “What’d you do to me?”

  “A mild sedative. Don’t be such a baby.”

  From witnessing the response of the other men, she knew the nausea wasn’t uncommon, not that she’d ever tell him that. Let him suffer. It was nothing compared to what they’d all done to her.

  He lifted his face and stared at her. “I know you?”

  “No.” In fact, they never should have met. Not under any circumstances. The fact that he’d had the nerve to show up at Cuda’s funeral after what he’d done just proved that he was as shameless as the rest of them.

  That had been the moment she’d known. They all had to pay.

  “What do you want with me?”

  Oh, she wasn’t about to make it that easy on them. “Figure it out. Between you and the others, maybe you can come up with the right answer.”

  He stared at her, eyes hard and lips pressed in a firm line. “And if we get the right answer?”

  “You still die.”

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Kevyn stared at Dak’s name. Written in the victim’s blood.

  Forensics had confirmed that it was blood, but hadn’t confirmed that it belonged to the victim yet.

  Still, she knew it did. They all knew it.

  It wasn’t a lot of blood, nothing to indicate that Green was dead, but any blood was concerning. The fact that it had been used to write Dak’s name even more so.

  “What’re you thinking?”

  She glanced up to find Dak staring at her from his place behind his desk. The lines etched across his face evidenced stress that he’d never vocalize.

  “I’m concerned about this.” She held up the bloody-name picture. “They’re singling you out.”