Her Fierce SEAL: Midnight Delta Book 6 (4 page)

“But Dasha knows we’re searching for her daughter.”

Declan was eating and couldn’t talk; he indicated Finn should try his food.  He forked a bite of the
carne asada
and thought he might be having an orgasm.  He had never tasted food this good.  Talking would have to wait.

Finally, Declan began to talk again. 

“We’re looking into it, but it has to do with her past in the Ukraine.”

“Well, no shit Sherlock.  Glad to see the Shadow Alliance is living up to its hype.”

“Fuck you,” Declan said without heat.  “We’re still trying to get to the bottom of things.  Anyway, Dasha took a powder a week ago, and your Scooby Squad hasn’t noticed it yet.”

Quicker than the eye could see, Finn’s deadly K-Bar knife was resting on the table.  “I like you and all, but if you refer to anybody on my team, or their wives in such an insulting way again, we might need to go outside and have a lesson in manners.”

“Wound tight much?”

“Are. We. Clear?” Finn ground out the words.

Declan’s emerald green eyes looked at him, not with fear, and not with hesitation. Instead, they were filled with compassion. 

“We’re clear, my friend.”  Finn blew out a long breath and put the knife away.

“But if you were thinking clearly, you would know how highly I regard you and each member of Midnight Delta.  You know I intend to recruit each and every one of you.  It’s my hope the Navy will fuck things up, and you’ll want to leave.”

“Don’t bet on it.”

“If not your men, then Rylie and Lydia.”

“Oh yeah, that’ll happen.”  Finn could just see Clint and Darius taking out
their
knives.  “So tell me about Lou Donatelli.”

“Lou Donatelli is retired.  His granddaughter is investigating the case of Dasha’s missing baby.  She runs the PI firm now.”

“Seems to me that if I go directly to Dasha, she’ll just run again.”

“That’s my assessment,” Declan agreed.

“So the detective agency and Dasha.  What angle are you thinking?” Finn asked.

“I’d be pretty damn cautious.  I think Angie Donatelli would welcome any and all help.  From everything I’ve gathered , she’s a straight shooter.”

Finn pulled out his wallet.

“I’ve got this,” Declan said as he took out his wallet.  “I’m a civilian and making way more than you these days.”

“Okay, you pay.  I’ve still got to pay for a motel.”

“I’ve got you one of the Alliance apartments.  It sucks.  But it’ll do.”

“What do you mean it sucks?”

“I mean it was furnished by one of those staging companies for when you’re going to sell a house.  Plenty of fake plants, fake fruit in bowls and little bathroom soaps in dishes.”

Finn shuddered.  “I’ll grab a motel.”

“You’ll be here for a while, take the apartment.  It has a junior Olympic swimming pool.”

“Sold.”

“Don’t use the soaps.”  Finn shot his friend the finger.  “Seriously, though, it’s ready to move in, including food.”

***

N
ow that he was past security, Finn jogged up the narrow staircase, eschewing the elevator that must have been installed in the thirties.  He loved the old building. The wood and ornate plaster fixtures were amazing.  He made his way down the hallway to the double doors marked Donatelli Agency and let himself in. 

It was his lucky day, a woman in a red pencil skirt was on all fours obviously fighting with some wiring underneath the reception desk.  Why she was working on it from the front, instead of behind the desk was beyond him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to bitch about it.

“Sarah, did you get Howard’s toolbox?”

Her skirt wasn’t too short, it covered everything it should, but it showcased everything else perfectly.

“Dammit, Sarah, I need some help down here. If you didn’t get his toolbox, maybe some pliers?”

“I’m not Sarah.”

Her head hit the bottom of the desk with a loud thunk. 

“Ow!”

She started to crawl backward.  Lord have mercy.

Finn was there in a shot and helped her to her feet.

She put her hands on his chest and pushed away, then scooped a mass of curls out of her face.  She looked up at him.  “Okay, that’s more than a little embarrassing.  Hi, I’m Angie Donatelli. Normally, I introduce myself to people face-to-face, not face to uhhhm.” She waved behind herself, trying to interject a little humor into the situation.  Finn raised an eyebrow.

“This would be the point you introduce yourself.”

Shit.
  “Finn Crandall.”

“Hello, Finn Crandall.” She smiled, peeked around him and frowned.  He turned and saw an empty doorway. 

“What’s wrong?”

She looked down, and he saw her look at his hand.  “I know you’re here for a reason, but I’m kind of in a bind.  Can I ask for a favor?”

He stared at her.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?  Look.  I screwed things up under the desk.  The landline isn’t working as a result.  There’s this bolt that’s too tight, and Sarah was supposed to be here with a toolbox and a pair of pliers fifteen minutes ago.”

What the hell.

“Sure.”

“I’ll show you which one.”

She knelt down gracefully and motioned him toward the desk.  He stepped back in panic, waiting for the inevitable flashback to the farmhouse, but instead he was in the present, seeing lush dark auburn curls and a white blouse that exposed a lacy bra.  There was no mistaking this woman in the red skirt for anything but a lush vision and the first thing to get his motor running in months.

“Finn?”

He knelt down.

It was a tight squeeze.  She smelled good.  Like strawberries.  She pointed to the bolt, and he easily took it off.

“Anything else?”

“Nope.”  He watched as she expertly re-ran the landline wire where it needed to go.

Finn heard the door open and put his hand over Angie’s head.

“I have the toolbox!”

Angie’s head jerked up, but his hand was above her, and she hit it instead of the desk.  She smiled her thanks.

They backed out from under the desk. 

“I take it you didn’t need the toolbox after all?” The middle-aged woman smiled at Finn.

“Nope, I managed to find a volunteer,” Angie said, making Finn notice her Southern accent for the first time.

“Okay then.  I’ll be able to get ahold of CiCi.  Are you a new client?” Sarah asked.

“I need to talk to Ms. Donatelli about a few things.”

“Please, call me Angie.”

“Finn, do you drink coffee?” Sarah asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll bring in two.  Angie, I’ll tell CiCi you’ll get back to her a little bit later, does that sound good?”

“Thanks, Sarah.”

“Don’t mind her mess,” Sarah said to Finn.  “Our conference room is being painted, if it weren’t for that, you would never see her office.”

“Follow me,” Angie said as she led him down a little hallway.  It was no hardship following the sway of the red skirt.  The smell of strawberries still lingered in the air. 

He was overwhelmed when he reached her office and saw the disarray.  Actually, the term disarray was mild.  Chaos was better.

“I thought tornados only hit the panhandle.” 

“It’s not that bad, is it?  Sometimes we get tornados here in the hill country.  But no, this is our attempt at getting organized.  Just put them anywhere,” she said indicating the stack of files on the chair.

“Aren’t your files computerized?”

“These are Dad and Pops’ old files.  Sarah and I are in the process of getting them on the system.  Dad’s aren’t too bad, but Pops’ are illegible and read more like a Raymond Chandler detective novel than actual case notes.”

Finn rubbed his chin.

“So why are you here?”

“I’m here about Dasha Koval.”

“Dasha who?” Angie asked nonchalantly.  Finn’s eyes narrowed.

“What’s up?” Sarah asked as she brought in two mugs of coffee.

“Nothing.  Thanks for the coffee.”  Sarah took the hint, left the office and shut the door.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not here in any real official capacity.  I take it she doesn’t want the government to know she’s here, right?”  Finn used his most reassuring tone.

“Finn, I like you.  You seem like a nice man.  Why don’t we have a nice cup of coffee, talk about the weather, and then you leave?”

“Look, I can help you find Dasha’s baby,” he said with a coaxing smile.

“Dasha who?” If Finn hadn’t gotten the information from Declan he would have believed her, she was that believable.

“Dammit, this is serious.”  He barely kept himself from slamming his hand on her desk.

“I take client confidentiality seriously.”  Her brown eyes glittered.

“It seems to me you should take helping your clients just as seriously.  I know she’s working with you.  I know your grandfather and Sergei Koval served together in Vietnam.  I know Dasha is here and wants you to find her baby.  I can help.  I have information.”

“Okay, so you don’t get any coffee.  Please leave.”  Her smile was all teeth, as she waved her hand in dismissal.

“And how to you plan to make me leave?” Finn folded his arms across his chest.

Angie continued sipping her coffee, opened her top drawer and carefully pulled out a Glock 9mm pistol and put it on her desk, never once taking her hand off of it.  He approved.

He was getting closer and closer to smiling. 

“All right,” she instructed.  “Tell me your story.  Start with who you are.  Please keep in mind, I’ve never liked fairy tales.”

“I’m one of the Navy SEALs, who was on the mission that helped rescue Dasha and the other girls in British Columbia.  How much did Dasha tell you about her rescue?”

“Up in Canada?  She talked about a crazy man unlocking their cabins and trying to put them on boats.”

“I don’t understand, why was the man crazy?”

“Apparently, he was laughing, but he had tears on his face.  Dasha and the other girls in her cabin knew one of her roommates was giving birth that night, and she insisted on seeing her.  The crazy man finally took her to the clinic.  There was another man there, holding the baby, and comforting Dasha’s friend.  Dasha said both men were warriors, but crazy.  Dasha said the doctor was dead on the floor of the clinic.”

“So she didn’t just get on the boat like she was told, huh?”  It did Finn’s heart good to know the girls still had so much fight left in them after having been captives for so long.

“Not Dasha.  So tell me more of your story.” 

“The crazy men were my teammates.  Anyway, it was the end of a long operation that started in Mexico over a year ago.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s ended, if Dasha’s baby is still missing.”

“Point taken.  There are actually five babies still missing.” 

“Five?  Five girls like Dasha have had their children stolen from them?” 

“A hell of a lot more than that.  But five are still missing, the others have been reunited with their children.”  Finn watched Angie’s look of anguish.

“I didn’t realize.  I thought everyone had been found.” She bit her lip.  For a moment he thought he saw tears forming, but then she blinked, and her hand gripped her gun tighter.  “Those bastards.  I’ve been working off the information Dasha and Sergei gave me, but it is pretty convoluted.  They’ve been so adamant that I couldn’t contact the government. I’ve been flying blind until my friend comes through.”

“What do you mean, ‘until your friend comes through?’”

She put her gun back in her desk drawer and leaned forward, resting her arms on her desktop.  Suddenly, she looked more vulnerable than she had, and it wasn’t because of the lack of a gun.  She was truly upset by his information.

“I have a friend that I tapped to dig deeper into this Canadian take-down.  I need to understand how the babies were sold.”

“I’ve got all of the information my SEAL team has collected.  How about we work together?”

“You still haven’t told me your story.  Why are you here?  Why do you want to help me?”

“My team and I want to help all five of the girls find their babies.  Right now, they’re focused on the other four girls.  I want to work with you on Dasha.”

“Without involving the government?  She is fanatical about that.”

“Doesn’t that raise some red flags to you?”

“She’s a victim.  I couldn’t care less why she doesn’t want to involve the American government.  From what Sergei
did
manage to explain, they hadn’t been helpful.  He said since Dasha was Ukrainian and this happened in Canada, the United States was washing their hands of the whole thing.”

“That’s not true,” Finn said.  “I do agree there was some bungling because of the jurisdictional issues, but they are definitely working the case.”

“Then why are you involved?” Angie asked.

“Because we can’t let a mission go uncompleted.  There isn’t a chance in hell we’re going to stop looking for these babies.”

“I would feel the same way,” she said determinedly.  “Are they all in the same place, or have they been adopted out to different people?”

“Different people.”

“The United States?”

“That’s what our records show.”

“What records?”

“Lady, are we working together, or not?”

“We’re working together.  Let’s get going, we might as well meet Dasha now.  We need to get to the park.”

“The park?” he asked as he followed her out of her office.

“Sarah, we’ll be back in about two hours.  We’ll grab something at the sandwich shop, can we pick you up anything?”

“Pulled pork and some coleslaw.”

“Corn on the cob?” Angie asked.

“You know it.”  Sarah reached for her purse, and Angie waved her hand as she headed out the door.

***

A
ngie was still trying to get a sense of Finn as they walked down the tree-lined street.  She prayed he would be able to give Dasha some hope.  In the last week, the girl had crawled into a place nobody could reach. 

“You’re going to have to treat her with kid gloves,” Angie warned after they had gone a block in silence.

He stopped on the sidewalk, and she backed up a step to turn and look at him.  “Lady, I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.  I offered to show you records of our investigation, and you said we needed to go to the park.  So far the only logical thing you’ve done is pull a gun on me.”