Dangerous Love (19 page)

CHAPTER 15

Ken flopped on his back with Faith draped on top of him. He couldn’t move or formulate a thought if he tried. His chest expanded as he tried to slow down his heartbeat and ease the knot in his gut. Mind-numbing couldn’t begin to describe what just happened. But then again, Faith was an amazing woman.

“You okay, honey?” she asked.

He glanced down at her. Her auburn hair coiled in silken loops on his sweaty chest. He pushed the strands away from her face and kissed her forehead, ran his knuckles up, and down her shoulder.

“Never better.”

She kissed his chest, traced the scars across his chest. “I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?”

He chuckled. “You unmanned me.”

She raised her head and nibbled his jaw, the corner of his mouth, then his lips. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

“No need to be sorry. I’m not complaining.” He tapped the tip of her nose, ran a finger across her lush lips. She kissed it. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished. Can we have a bath too?”

“If you run one, I’ll order us some food.” He kissed her then watched as she peeled her delectable body off him with an agility of a dancer, slid off the bed, and sashayed toward across the room with a gentle sway of her hips. At five-nine and in great physical shape, she was breathtaking. Blood rushed to his groin again.

She disappeared into the bathroom. Sounds of cabinets opening and closing followed. She was probably searching for spa salts and soap. He didn’t do spa. Running water followed.

Ken got up to get rid of the condom. When he walked into the bathroom, Faith was seated on the edge of the tub, humming some song under her breath as she wiggled her finger under the running water. Having her here was perfect. Right.

He paused long enough to kiss her then left the bathroom. She was inside the tub, sponging her body when he returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Food will be here in thirty minutes.” He placed his cell phone by the sink then opened the bottle of Merlot, poured generous amount in each glass and handed her one. When he joined her inside the large tab, his body caused the water to slosh closer to the rim. He settled behind her, pulled her against his chest, and between his legs then took over the bath pillow.

“Is the water all right? I tend to run mine hot,” she said, titling her head sideways to glance at him.

“It’s perfect.” He took a sip of his drink, content holding her and enjoying the moment.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked after a while.

“Shoot.”

“How did you get the scars on your body?”

The past flashed before his eyes. He’d never spoken about the incident that caused him to leave the Bureau. The nightmares were almost gone, just an occasional remnants waking him up in a cold sweat.

“Ken?” Faith glanced at him over her shoulder.

“There was a hostage situation at an elementary school involving some militias. They took the school hostage. My superiors thought we could negotiate with them.” He paused to squash the images. She didn’t need to know the gory details, the sociopath masterminding the hostage situation and his naïve followers, his superiors’ miscalculation and inability to listen, the decision he made, which had the commissioner hailing him as a hero and his superiors hating his guts. “We didn’t know they had a bomb, until negotiations broke down and some of us were inside.” His closed his eyes as he relived the horror, the mangled bodies, most of them children, the grieving parents, and the finger-pointing afterwards. “We got most of the students out except one class and a teacher.”

He didn’t realize Faith had put her glass down and turned sideways, until she cupped his face and pressed a gentle kiss on the scar on his shoulder. She rested her head on his chest and gently rubbed his arm until he unclenched his fingers from the rim of the tub.

“I left the Bureau afterwards, moved here to L.A., and started my firm.”

“What did your family say?” she asked.

Ken grimaced, recalling his father’s elation “They were thrilled. Mom and Misa were happy I was no longer doing a job they considered dangerous. My father never approved of my decision to join the FBI and couldn’t wait to have me in a suit and a corner office at his company. I hate suits and board meetings. Then they learned about my new P. I. firm. Dad went ballistic. He doesn’t consider what I do a job, but…”

He talked about his father’s inability to meet him halfway, the frustration, the tension whenever the subject came up until the shrill sound of his doorbell floated upstairs. “The food is here.”

Faith scooted, so he could get up.

Ken grabbed a robe from behind the door and hurried downstairs. The shower was running when he came back with a tray laden with food. He’d gone all out at a nearby Peruvian seafood restaurant that was open 24 hours on weekends. From
Lomo saltad
—grilled beef strips sautéed with onions, tomatoes, and French fries served with steamed rice to
shrimp ceviche.
The sauces that came with the dishes were spicy and the bread rolls fresh. Ken spread the offering on a blanket on the bedroom floor.

When Faith came out with one of his robes enveloping her slender frame, the remaining wine and their glasses in her hands, he led her to their picnic area.

“My favorite,” she said and grinned.

Halfway through their meal, his cell phone rang. In his line of work, he didn’t ignore calls, even those coming in at two in the morning. He jumped up and ran to the bathroom, where he’d left it.

“Boss, you said to call you if anything unusual happens,” Hailey said. “O’Neal is back in the vault. He’s shoving clothes in garment bags. The ones that belong to Ms. Fitzgerald.”

“Pull out and follow him when he leaves the building. Call me back with your whereabouts.” He terminated the call and left the bathroom. “That was Hailey. Sean is in the vault, removing evidence.”

Faith was on her feet before he finished explaining. She reached for her dress.

“Not those. You need dark clothes.” He entered his walk-in closet and removed a pair of sweats with drawstrings and sweatshirt. He was several inches taller than her, so she’d have to roll up the sleeves, but they’d do.

She didn’t argue when he handed her the clothes, just pulled them on as he did his. Then she adjusted and knotted the draw-strings for a better fit. He grinned. Only his Faith could make oversize clothes look sexy.

“What?” Faith asked.

“You look good.” He offered her flip-flops, the only footwear in his closet she could borrow.

She chuckled, dropped the flip-flops on the floor and shoved her feet through them, then ran her fingers through hair. “I’m sure I look like a clown.”

Despite her dismissive words, he could tell she liked the compliment. By the time he pulled on socks and sneakers, she was at the top of stairs, impatient to leave. One thing he loved about her was her level-headedness during crisis. No hysteria. Femininity and grace.

“I need few more things,” he said as they bounded downstairs.

“What?”

“A concealable video recorder. We can’t use the footage from the vault without being charged with breaking and entering, so I want to catch him with those clothes out in the open. I don’t care if he’s throwing them in some dumpster or burning them, I want something we can use to haul his thieving ass to jail. ” He went to his office, grabbed his bag of gadgets, and rejoined Faith.

“Do you want me to drive?” she asked, following into the garage.

“No, but you can navigate.” He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t be content just sitting in the car doing nothing. Besides, getting her involved would ease her tension. “We’re driving blind, so I’ll need to keep changing routes as we go.”

“What do you mean ‘driving blind’?”

“That’s when I depend on my surveillance team to guide me to my target.” He caught her frown and added, “Don’t worry, we’ve done this before. We’ll catch up with him.” He placed his bad of gizmos in the back seat and handed her the wireless phone piece then dialed Hailey. “Hailey will tell you where they are and you can relay the info to me.”

She put the earpiece on then said, “Hailey? This is Faith. Yes, we’re leaving. Can you tell me where you are now?” She cocked her head a she listened then glanced at Ken. “They’re on I-10 West, heading west toward Santa Monica Freeway.”

Ken gunned his engine and eased out of the garage. He headed north, adjusting his route by taking back roads whenever necessary. When not giving directions, Faith conversed with Hailey. At first, he didn’t eavesdrop, his mind on his next move, but when she chuckled, he couldn’t help it. They were discussing comic con costumes. Funny, his assistant Lucy were still trying to connect to Hailey while Faith found a common interest with such ease.

Ken was on La Cienega when Hailey relayed to them that they just took exit 3B and were headed south on I-405. At first he’d thought O’Neal was headed to Santa Monica Airport, but now he had a feeling he knew the designer’s destination. He flipped on his indicator and turned west on Slauson Avenue.

“Why are we taking this road?” Faith asked.

“I have an idea where O’Neal is headed.”

“Just a second, Hailey,” Faith said then shifted, so she could look at him. “Where?”

“He’s headed to your jeweler’s place.”

“Deidre? She lives in Burbank,” Faith said.

“She moved about two months ago to a complex near Marina Del Rey. Tell Hailey to call back when they turn toward the marina.” He waited until Faith turned off the phone then continued. “While you were in New York, I found out a few interesting things about Deidre.”

Something in his voice set off warning bells in Faith’s head. “Like what?”

“First, Deidre is not her real name. She was born Charlene Butler in a small town in Texas, worked at a local diner after high school and married some loser who used to beat her up. When he died in a mysterious fire, she left town. She slipped under the radar, didn’t pay taxes or even have an address. Then she resurfaced in L.A. as Deidre Jamison, a jewelry maker.”

Faith tried to remember anything that would have alerted her about…Deidre. “Her character references checked out. I talked with one of her teacher and formers managers at the two jewelry stores.”

“That’s because a Deidre Jamison did go to Chattanooga College and worked at those stores. We found department pictures and saw employee files. That Deidre Jamison looks nothing like the woman working with you. How did you two meet?”

“She walked into my store a few months after I opened shop and showed me her jewelry collection. They were exceptional.”

“Maybe she made them, maybe she knew the real Deidre Jamison, I don’t know. But she’s very resourceful, which explains why she’s living comfortably in a resort-like townhouse way above her means.”

“How do you know what she earns?”

“Don’t ask how,” he added and chuckled.

Faith didn’t know how he could find anything humorous at a time like this. The sense of betrayal returned, stronger than what Faith had felt when she learned about Sean’s thievery. She had taken a chance on Deidre, given her a sweet deal to sell her jewelry in her store and design more specifically for both Falasha’s couture and ready-to-wear lines. Even Sissy planned to feature Deidre’s jewelry in a futuristic chick flick movie next year, all at Faith’s suggestion. How often did Deidre talk to her about her money problems? While undermining her business by selling her designs to Sean.

“Say something,” Ken urged.

Faith couldn’t begin to voice the chaos in her mind. She stared into the night, the buildings flashing past, and cars zipping past them without seeing them. She wasn’t sure how much she could take tonight. Getting lost in Ken’s arms after confirming Sean’s thievery had been a temporary fix. She couldn’t ignore her problems anymore because they just kept getting worse.

“If she’s the one, I want her in jail,” Faith said.

Ken nodded.

“Sean too.”

“You sure about this?”

“Yes. I know we can’t get him on stealing my designs, other than humiliate him, but there must be a way to connect him to the burglary and Molly’s condition.”

“There should be, but first let’s get proof they’re working together.”

Faith leaned back against her seat and waited for Hailey to contact them, her mind a jumbled mess of pointless, possible solutions. She couldn’t think beyond the fact that Deidre or Charlene might have betrayed her. Had betrayed her, she corrected, angry with herself for hoping Ken was wrong.

They caught up with the van on Marina Freeway. Although there were several cars between them, they followed it, took a right turn then a left. They pulled up behind it on Redwood Avenue alongside a three-story gorgeous complex with Ocean View written above the front door. Sean’s sports car gleamed under the security light by the palm trees near the curb. Faith leaned forward, her gaze on the car, anticipation making her tense.

Her attention moved to Ken when he reached in the back for his bag, pulled out an earpiece smaller than the wireless one she’d been using with Hailey and handed it to her.

“This com system is really a high-tech walkie-talkie. You can hear everything I hear and communicate with me too by pressing this button.” He indicated a green button. Next, he pulled out a heavy-duty laptop, opened it, then pressed the power button. While the machine booted, he removed a tiny SD card, which he inserted in a slot on the frame of a pair of glasses. Another card went in the computer. After he typed a few words, a window appeared. It didn’t take Faith long to realize that the images on the computer screen came from the glasses.