Secure Desire Page 31

  Ian stood within the sight line of the group; his downcast eyes heavy with grief. The outside world saw a distraught man.

  The woman watching the news could not suppress her glee. “Almost got him too. An explosion—you better believe it. They’ll be lucky if they find a tooth. Cassiopeia is finally dead. Nothing can stand in the way now.” She picked up her phone. “I wish I could join you, but you deserve to celebrate. Dinner tonight at the Source. I made you a reservation for four. The six of us will have a lot to celebrate very soon.”

  Heartbroken, Cassie watched the press conference on the closed-circuit cameras. She was responsible for the deaths of two good men and injuries to eight. Kieran and Ian looked so sad. When Monique wrapped a caring arm around Ian to pull him into the house, Cassie cried. Kieran could have died without seeing his child. And to insinuate that they were fighting was too much. When Cassie heard the door open, she wiped her eyes and put on her smile.

  Ian insisted Cassie continue her rehab. “Time to keep your end of the bargain. Get that butt moving.” He slapped it gently.

  Lillian raised her famous eyebrow, and Ian froze. Cassie laughed. “Mom wins.”

  Kieran came in with Declan just as Cassie and Lil were heading to the gym. “She looks amazing. You would think she’d be more rattled.” Kieran handed Ian a fresh cup of coffee.

  “Don’t believe it. She’s skilled at hiding her emotions, but we did settle something. I helped her sort some trust issues out this morning.”

  Declan smiled at his son. “I’m happy for her. Be good to her, Son.” He put his hand on Kieran’s shoulder. “And you, young man, if you keep hiding that pregnancy from your mother, she will skin you alive.”

  “How’d you know, Dad?” Kieran sounded dumbfounded.

  “Do you think you two are the only investigators? I did work naval intelligence once. My coffee-addicted daughter-in-law drinking peppermint tea? Wearing less clingy clothing? While you were doing the press conference, I answered the phone. A lovely young lady called to confirm her fitting at Sugar and Spice Maternity Wear in Union Station.”

  “Congrats, bro. I am so happy for you two.” Ian embraced Kieran. “When is the baby coming?”

  “He’s coming in January,” Kieran said with pride.

  “You do realize it could be a girl,” Declan said.

  Kieran paled. “I…I never thought of that.”

  “Hahaha, we have something wonderful to celebrate.” Ian smiled, happy about the news.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “We’ve got names,” Brett said as he entered the office. “Borz Dudeyev, Anton Maronov, and Lom Umarov. Russian nationals. All are here legally on tourist visas. I’m checking prints on the others.”

  Kieran scowled. “How about the full check I asked technical analysis to run on Arkady Sabitov? Cassie says he’s a gallery owner. We have intel that he’s part of Bratva. I want to know if and how they are connected to anyone in our sights.”

  “No file yet. We’re hitting roadblocks. We know Sabitov is on the terrorist watch list. Mia said these three guys are retired security forces, something about tattoos, but they came through legally.”

  “They should be pretty uncomfortable security forces from all that IV fluid and the bare minimum of pain meds. Tell Mike and Noah it’s a go.” Ian pursed his lips.

  Zip-tied to a hard chair, Borz had two gunshot wounds. Eric removed a bullet from his calf and treated his shoulder.

  Noah, fluent in Russian, started the conversation in English. After twenty minutes of playing games, muttering derogatory comments under his breath, and only giving his name, Noah switched to Russian. “Borz, my girlfriend would be very insulted by your comments about my prowess. Now, you’re in a tough spot. There are a lot of people who want a piece of you. That RPG puts you on the radar of multiple agencies—DHS, ATF, NSA, FBI, and CIA. I’m sure Mr. Putin will not be thrilled one of his former operatives got caught by a simple Virginia homeowner.”

  “I demand a lawyer,” Borz yelled in English.

  Noah laughed. “There’s a little problem, Borz. I’m not from any particular agency. I’m just a plain old civilian protecting my home. And I don’t give a damn about your rights or the rules of engagement.”

  Three hours later, sweat dripped from Borz’s forehead. A full bladder and pain were potent tools. “Who was your target? Don’t you dare pee on my floor. I see you’re uncomfortable. How about a bathroom break, some pain meds, and a smoke? Then we can speak like civilized people.”

  Ian monitored the interrogation through the two-way glass. Thirty minutes later, a little more comfortable, Borz began to talk in exchange for being turned over to the FBI. He was under the impression they would go the easiest on him.

  “Who do you work for? Who was your target?” Noah asked.

  In Russian, Borz replied, “We were supposed to take out a little redheaded girl—Cassiopeia Ellis. If anyone got in the way, oh well.”

  “How did you know who she was?” Noah followed up.

  “We received a file with pictures and location.”

  “Where’s that file?”

  “If I tell you, what do I get out of it?” Borz sat up taller.

  Mike, who had remained quiet through the interview, leaned forward and grabbed his sore shoulder. In perfect Russian, he said, “The ability to continue breathing.”

  Borz sighed. “The file is on a secure server. I will show you.”

  Noah nodded. “How did you know she was here?”

  “I got a call in my hotel room. Where I could pick up our weapons and where she was.”

  “Where did you pick up your weapons?” Noah asked.

  “We picked up camping gear at Rock Creek Park.” At the answer, Ian ordered any security camera footage his people could find.

  “How did you know where she was on the grounds?” Mike asked.

  “That was easy. She likes to sit outside. She stays close to the house by the pool. The doctors stay with her. She was too weak to walk the path to the big house,” Borz said with familiarity.

  “How did you know that?” Noah’s hair on the back of his neck stood up.

  “Not us. It came in the file. She is a pretty little one. So tiny in the pictures. Easy to kill. I could snap her neck like a twig. I prefer up close and personal, but one shot, boom. Did we get her?”

  Noah didn’t answer. “Who hired you?”

  “Money was wired into my account.”

  “From whom? Who do you work for?” Noah’s voice rose. Borz looked at his feet. “Who do you work for?” Noah slammed his fist on the table. Borz refused.

  “Maybe I should call Arkady Sabitov.” Noah spotted the first hint of fear in his prisoner. That was the confirmation he needed. “Just thought you may be interested in a little information. One of the men we captured during another act died an excruciating death in jail. If you weren’t working for Arkady, how were you found?”

  Borz laughed. “Soldier boy, you think you’re smart. You know people with the right contacts and money can buy anything. They won’t stop until they get her. Nine of us came this time. If we didn’t succeed, more will come again. It’s an open contract.”

  “Why?” Mike asked.

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

  “One more question: how much?” Mike asked.

  “Five hundred thousand dollars.” Borz laughed.

  After returning Borz to his cell, Noah and Mike repeated the interrogation two more times with similar results. They met with Ian and Kieran to give a situation report.

  “The ex-AFEUR guys were from Moscow. These three are Russian. The residences on their visas and passports are Moscow. Ford and Tate are searching their hotel rooms now, and Brett is setting up a computer to monitor and record the keystrokes when he logs into his laptop. We should have that file soon.”

  Kieran nodded. “Noah, when you’re ready to separate, you have a job with us if you’re interested.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jas
on drove Ian and Luke to plan Cassie’s memorial. “Jason, while we’re inside, please call tech to see if the pictures you took yesterday have come back,” Ian said.

  “Yes, sir.” Jason walked his boss to the door and returned to the car.

  The cloying smell of flowers weighed Ian down. It was surreal. Luke and Ian explained to the funeral director how the explosion incinerated Cassie’s remains. He suggested they choose a casket anyway to bury any bone fragments. He also suggested waiting until the investigation was complete before they had the service to maximize the possible remains found.

  Ian wanted to vomit, but he kept holding on to the fact that she was waiting for him. He and Luke planned the wake for two nights and one day. The flowers. The memorial cards. Transport to the interfaith chapel. Transportation to the cemetery. Ian’s brain stalled. Transport to the family mausoleum that held her baby’s remains. His heart told him not to bury her there, but logic told him it would be another chance to put an end to Cassie’s nightmare.

  Jason dropped Luke off at the house before escorting Ian to visit the families of his lost men. Managing to avoid the paparazzi, he stopped at the hospital to see his injured too. None of their injuries was life-threatening.

  Afterward, Ian stopped at the Chase Group building. His first piece of business was making sure the insurance company paid what was due to each beneficiary for his fallen personnel. He told accounting to issue a weekly check to their next of kin in the amount of their salary for twenty-five years with cost-of-living raises built in. He also set up a college fund for Trevor’s two children—contingent upon a minimum B average.

  For his injured employees, Ian made sure they would receive full salary while they were out and provided for any of their families’ needs. Once that was taken care of, he called Ray Hedgecock about the building repair.

  Being in the office confirmed he made the right decision to step back. Eagle’s Talon, in addition to working on this mess with Cassie, was juggling two dangerous assignments. Mia “Kiwi” Donnelly was perfect for the job. As for Chase Security, Ian turned over the DC commanding lead to Tony Olivetti in San Diego.

  The technical analysis staff jumped when he entered their lair. “Sorry, everyone. I wanted to thank you. I know you’re moving as fast as you can. Do you all have the tools and personnel you need to do the job? If you don’t, contact Esther.” Ian spoke with each member of the team before returning home.

  The house was quiet, except for roving security. Ian opened the door to his suite and saw no sign of Cassie. His heart rate soared until the door to the second bedroom creaked open. “What are you doing in there?”

  Cassie was wearing a turquoise dressing gown. “I was just getting ready for bed. I wanted to brush my teeth. As you can see, I am sporting the latest trend in adornment.” She pointed to her feeding tube.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” Ian’s brow creased.

  Cassie knitted her fingers. “I didn’t want to seem clingy. You don’t have to feel obligated to sleep with me again.”

  Ian’s eyes turned stormy. “Do I strike you as a one-and-done kind of guy? I will let you know if I think you’re clinging. Don’t you understand that I want you here? I need you here, Cassie. What do I have to do to make you understand how much you mean to me? How much I want you in my life? And now how much I want you in my bed.”

  Ian stalked across the room, and she backed up to the wall. He claimed her mouth in an aggressive, possessive kiss. Seizing her hips, he lifted her body hard against his.

  She could feel his arousal grow. The power she held over him dawned on her. This was not soft, slow love. This was primal, dominating.

  Her silky garment shredded beneath his powerful hands. Lifting her higher, he nipped at her exposed nipples, turning them rock-hard. He tore the silk fabric covering her mound, plunging his fingers between her wet, swollen folds. Cassie moaned at his touch.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” Ian commanded. Retaking Cassie’s mouth with his, Ian thrust into her hard and deep, conquering her over and over. Snaking a hand to their connection, he stimulated her swollen bundle of nerves until she convulsed around him.

  “Ian!” Cassie’s breathy cry brought him out of his fervor.

  The sensation of being coupled with her felt new, different, skin against skin. Dipping deep for control, Ian pulled out in time, his emission warming her belly. Setting her on her feet, he dropped to his knees.

  His body quaked with visible anguish as he bowed his head in shame. “Cassie, forgive me. I’m sorry.” His cheek rested against her wet belly. “I was rough and—”

  “Wonderful. Do you know what it’s like not to be asked how I feel? To not be looked at like I will break? You treated me like a healthy person. You would never hurt me; I know that with every cell in my body.” Cassie kissed the top of his head, desperate to release him from his turmoil.

  He rose and cradled her, carrying her to their bed. With reverence, he returned from the bathroom to clean her with a soothing, warm washcloth. “I’m so sorry. I promised I’d never hurt you.”

  “Now it’s my turn. You need to trust my words too. I swear you didn’t hurt me.”

  Pulling open a drawer, he offered her a worn gray “Navy” t-shirt. “I like you in my clothes.”

  Cassie laughed. To her, it was better than any expensive negligée. “A lot cheaper than replacing all that lingerie. Hook me up, handsome.” She wiggled her nose, which wiggled the feeding tube. After setting her up, Ian slid into bed beside her.

  Ian slept wrapped around her. Cassie slipped out from under him, taking a moment to flush and disconnect the feeding tube. Another dream had pulled her out of restful sleep, the images more violent this time. Why couldn’t she dream about the good things happening? Only a day ago, she still bought into the cruelty of Garett and his mother. Then color became part of her life again. Ian made her feel—in the most beautiful ways imaginable.

  After a trip to the bathroom, she settled at the desk overlooking the estate grounds. For the first time in six years, Cassie needed to draw. Grabbing a pencil and a piece of stationery, her fingers flew across the paper. She was naked on a bed with tears pouring down her cheeks with two women holding her down and another woman at her side. Six men surrounded the bed, while a seventh man reached between her legs. Two of the men were Sebastian and Robby. Every other figure’s face was shrouded in darkness. You know what happened. The memories were coming back. She was confident it was no dream.

  “Sweetheart, come back to bed,” Ian called. Cassie shoved the sketch inside the book she was reading and returned to the one thing she was sure about—Ian—and the safety she felt with his arms wrapped around her.

  “Where were you?” He yawned.

  “Potty.” She kissed him fiercely, throwing any more questions out of his head.

  Cassie watched the shadows cast from the draped window; Ian’s warm body folded around her. They had made love when she returned to bed, and now he was again in a deep sleep. When the light on Ian’s cell phone flashed, Cassie grabbed it before the vibration could awaken him.

  * * *

  From Martin: Vera Liukin’s sister Irina is married to Viktor Sabitov. Relationship to Arkady to follow.

  * * *

  Cassie put the phone down as a voice sounded in her head. Tvoya matka prinadlezhit Irine. She untangled herself to race to the bathroom. The voice kept playing: Your womb belongs to Irina.

  Cassie managed not to throw up, but she couldn’t bring herself to go back to bed. She spent the rest of the night watching Ian sleep.

  As dawn approached, Cassie climbed back into bed. Ian’s alarm went off a few minutes later.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The next morning, Monique wore a black silk A-line dress with a full brim hat and sat in a back pew of the Christ Reformed Church with Colby beside her. If anyone asked, her standard answer was that Colby was her personal assistant.

  Robert Bynum Jr. was eulogized as a young man who made mis
takes but was loved by all. Yeah, the rapist. Monique scanned the room for familiar faces. It didn’t take long to spot Garett Whitman and his very pregnant wife. He rubbed her belly as if it was a good luck charm. His body language screamed distress, and his face was drawn, but Cheyenne beamed at him like she was worshipping a god. The sight made Monique wish she could stick her fingers down her throat. Her breakfast was already whirling in her stomach. A twist of her watch snapped pictures of two young men sitting with them.

  In the front of the church, Bradford and Adrienne Whitman sat behind the Bynums and the Marshalls. Two rows over, Phyllis Wilson’s parents sat grief-stricken. Those poor people. Wait until they learn of Robby’s ultimate betrayal.

  Monique shot more photographs of the mourners. When the service concluded, she noticed Andy and Javier in the back of the church. She tipped her hat and headed out toward her car.

  Ian stayed hidden in the parking lot in a low-profile car until he followed Garett from the church. After dropping Cheyenne at home, Garett headed from their neighborhood toward the highway. Before he could reach well-trafficked streets, Ian forced him off the road.

  Garett ran toward the car. “You could have killed me, you idiot!” The wind emptied from his sails when he recognized Ian.