L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Series, Boxed Set: The Deceived, The Taken & The Silent (43 page)

BOOK: L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Series, Boxed Set: The Deceived, The Taken & The Silent
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“We’re adults. We can do anything we want.”

He was right. Who said every relationship had to go somewhere?

“We can,” she whispered. “We can do anything we want.” Almost before the words came out, he kissed her. His hands were in her hair, and all the silent promises she’d just made to herself melted away like ice cubes in the desert.

Rico tasted the wine on her lips and felt as intoxicated as if he’d drank a whole bottle. But it wasn’t the wine that made him feel that way. It was Macy. She was all the aphrodisiac he’d needed.

Right then he knew all those platitudes he’d just spouted were lies. He couldn’t have a sexual relationship with her and not want more. He knew that as well as he knew how to collar a suspect.

Vaguely he heard the doggy door slap shut and was glad Hercules had gone out. He drew her onto his lap, his hands leaving her hair and working down to her waist. He wanted to touch her everywhere and everywhere he touched made him want more. His fingers felt on fire and he was suddenly acutely aware of everything about her, the softness of her hair, the sweet scent that was uniquely hers, the smoothness of her skin, the fullness of her lips.

He wanted her. Every part of her. He slipped his hands under her shirt, her smooth skin like balm on his. He unsnapped her bra and caressed her small but perfect breasts, only vaguely aware when she pulled off her top. As he deepened the kiss, she tightened her arms around him and gave him back even more. He wanted to be inside her. Make her his.

Excitement thundered through him, a rush like nothing he’d ever experienced.

Holding Macy in his arms, he stood, took her hand, and headed for the bedroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

 

THE EARLY-MORNING SUN shone through the blinds giving Rico a ladder of light to see by. He eased off the bed and looked at Macy, calm in sleep. She was beautiful, he thought, not for the first time. But it wasn’t just a physical beauty. He liked how she fit right in with his family, how she didn’t flinch at helping, even though he knew she’d never done it before in her life. He’d made a 180 in his opinion about Macy Capshaw. She’d surprised him. Caught him off guard and found a place in his heart. And that was the biggest surprise of all.

He headed for the shower, quietly closed the door and turned on the water. As steam filled the room, and even as he smiled remembering their lovemaking, his insides tensed and churned. He’d never been so drawn to someone. In the past, he’d always wanted to run the other direction when things turned serious. But this time, he wanted to keep her there with him. He wanted her to himself.

But true to form, Macy’d been up-front about what she wanted — or more to the point, what she didn’t want — from the beginning. So what was his problem? Most guys would love the idea of a relationship without ties. Hell, that had been his MO most of his adult life.

So, what was different now?

Two things he knew for sure. One was that Macy Capshaw would never give up all her comforts to live on a detective’s salary — and he couldn’t blame her. Two, he knew he’d never be a kept man. Both important points he couldn’t forget just because he was in love with her.

In love with her
. The realization hit him like a knockout blow and he was down for the count. And he had no control over what was going to happen next.

Macy was awake when he finished in the bathroom. “Good morning,” she said as she stretched her arms, her body arching invitingly.

So much for the cold shower. “Good morning.” He secured the towel around his waist and went to the closet for his clothes, pulling out a pair of jeans and a black Polo shirt. “I hope you slept well.”

“For the first time in a week.” She stretched again, then pushed to a sitting position, holding the sheet over her breasts.

“Well, stay in bed as long as you want.” He grabbed his underwear from a drawer, dressed and took a sport jacket from the closet. “Just make sure you’re careful. Don’t go anywhere that isn’t safe. Okay?”

“Aye, aye, sir.” She gave a two-finger salute.

“Hey, I’m concerned about you.”

“I know. I’m just giving you a hard time.” He saw a teasing glint in her eyes.

He leaned over the bed and kissed her softly before he shrugged on his jacket. “Would you like some coffee?” he asked. It’s made. There’s stuff for breakfast, too, but I don’t have time to fix it.”

Surprise crossed her face. “I didn’t expect you to. I rarely eat breakfast anyway.”

“Now that’s not good for—” He stopped midsentence. His sister Carly was right. He was too protective. “Never mind,” he mumbled. “I have to go.”

He started to walk away, but turned. “Here’s a key, in case you decide to come back.” Placing it on the table next to her, he added, “For whatever reason.”

***

ALL THE WAY TO the station Rico replayed the image of Macy sprawled in bed. It was true that she couldn’t stay there forever and he couldn’t protect her and still do his job. Pulling into the police garage, he saw Luke climbing from his Escalade. Luke always said he had nothing else to spend his money on, so he might as well enjoy his ride. He waited for Rico to park and they walked in together.

“Sorry I didn’t make it yesterday. I got a good homicide.”

Rico knew the feeling. While he’d teased Macy about never having fun, he was guilty of putting his job ahead of most everything else, too. “Anything on the cold cases?”

“All at different stages. Some are waiting CSU.” Luke opened the door for Rico. “What’s with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You have a houseguest. That’s something.”

Rico looked up at Luke who only had an inch on him, if that, but his friend always seemed taller because he stood so straight. Military straight. “Temporary houseguest. She’s going home today.”

“Too bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“All that money…” Luke gave a tsk-tsk sound and shot Rico a glance. “Hey, if you’re not interested…”

Rico’s blood pressure spiked. Joking around had always been normal among Rico, Luke and Jordan, but Luke’s humor seemed crude in reference to Macy. “She’s not up for grabs. So back off.”

“Whoa. No offense meant, buddy.” Luke drew back, then followed Rico to his desk. “I mean it. I didn’t know you were hooked.”

He fell into his chair and drew a deep breath. “I know you didn’t mean anything. Forget it. I’m just irritable. Not enough coffee.”

“Not enough something,” Luke muttered under his breath as he walked away.

Rico saw Jordan come in and bump shoulders with Luke on his way out. “Mary Beth gave me some information for you,” Jordan said as he dumped a ream of papers on Rico’s desk.

“The financial reports for Haven’s Gate.”

“What exactly were you looking for?”

“I don’t know. Haven’s Gate is a nonprofit agency, so the money has to come from somewhere and it has to go somewhere. I thought it might give me something else to go on.”

“Maybe so. I took a look and—” Jordan flipped a couple pages “—and it seems the people who pay the medical care and other expenses are the adoptive parents.”

“How much?”

“It’s not defined. Just lump-sum deposits of several million dollars per year. About a quarter of that is divided between Haven’s Gate and another organization called Family Care Services, which could be the adoption agency.”

“So the question is — where does the rest of it go?” Rico scanned the pages. Two numbered accounts showed a sizable amount of money funneled into both.

“For a nonprofit there’s a lot of money that’s not going back into the agency,” Jordan said.

“Yeah. Let’s get a trace on these two accounts. It’s still within our purview. And I’ll get the financial records for the other agency. They’re probably nonprofit, too.”

“Good. Anything on our guy in the hospital?”

Rico scanned the last sheet. “Not yet. AFIS was down for a while. And since I have to wait for the information to get here anyway, I’m going to interview some of the former residents.”

Jordan scratched his head. “Yeah. But since the Ray case isn’t on our priority list, we might want to pay attention to some of the cases that are.”

Jordan was right. “Man, I’m sorry. I’ll do this other stuff on my own time.”

“Hey, I wasn’t saying we shouldn’t do it. I think you’re close to finding something, and a case solved is a case solved, whether it’s on the list or not.”

“We? You keep saying we when you know I don’t want you getting involved.”

“I want to. I was on the old case, too. Remember?”

He could always count on Jordan to back him. Jordan and Rico were as close as Rico was with any of his brothers. Maybe even closer. Rico shook his head. “It could go nowhere. But if you want to help, maybe you can answer a question for me.”

“Shoot.” Jordan clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair.

“If you were going to find your biological mother, how would you start?”

Jordan looked surprised. “But I’m not.”

“It’s a hypothetical question.”

His partner’s eyes lit. “For Macy. Right?”

Rico didn’t answer, but Jordan knew him too well.

“I’d register with every agency that lists parents and children who are searching for each other. I’d do an online search for anyone trying to find a child born on my birthday. If nothing showed there, I’d get the name of the adoption agency.”

Despite his protests otherwise, Jordan had obviously done some research on the subject.

“Then what? Adoption records are closed.”

“Unless both parties involved agree to open them.”

“You mean the biological mother and the adoptive parents.”

Jordan nodded.

“And if the mother and adoptive parents don’t agree?”

“You could hire an adoption investigator or find a way to let the biological parent know you’re interested in making contact. And then the ball would be in the other court.”

Rico knew the name of the adoption agency Haven’s Gate used. He wondered how difficult it would be to get information from them about how many babies they’d received for adoption from Haven’s Gate on the date Macy’s child was born. All he really wanted was the truth about what happened to Macy’s baby.

“That’s good information. Now let’s get to work on the other stuff.”

Jordan thought for a moment. “Yeah, well, I’m going to work on the Boling case. See if I can get some new results on the evidence collected at the time of the murder. I don’t need any help for that.”

“Thanks.”

Rico spent the morning getting current addresses and phone numbers, then made calls and appointments to see three of the women he’d interviewed five years before.

On his way to Trudy Danko’s place in Fullerton, he went over the facts in his head. The file showed she’d left the facility the day before the kidnapping and one of the other girls had said she’d stood looking at the babies in the nursery for a long time. But her parents had picked her up right after that and took her home.

He located the address and went to the door. Though Trudy was willing to talk with him, after ten minutes with her, he was ready to climb the rafters. She’d had four more kids since her stay at Haven’s Gate — all under five. She was fifteen then, which meant she couldn’t be more than twenty now. But she didn’t have anything new to add about Haven’s Gate and what she did say was exactly what she’d said before. How did someone remember events in the exact details five years later?

LaVonne Smith and Terin Valetti were next. Holly Magruder was also on the list, but he hadn’t gotten an answer at her place.

Three hours later, after his interviews with Smith and Valetti, he was sitting in his vehicle puzzling over the differences between the interviews today and the ones from five years ago. Every answer to every question was the same as five years before. He’d asked new questions about the doctor and the staff, and one woman’s answer was almost the same as the next. As if they’d rehearsed. Had they talked to someone at Haven’s Gate? Had they been coached? Paid off?

He looked at Holly Magruder’s last address in Long Beach and decided to go even though he hadn’t made an appointment. A surprise visit might get him a different response. He turned onto the freeway and headed down 210 to 405 toward the beach, glancing at his watch as he drove. It was getting late and he’d not heard anything from Macy. He punched in her direct office number.

“Macy,” he said, relieved when she answered. “I’ve been trying to get in touch.”

“Sorry about that. I had … a lot to do today. They fixed the door and the locks. I had a new security system installed, too.”

Her voice sounded shaky, not firm and confident as he was used to hearing her.

“I didn’t have time to get all my things out of your place yet. I’ll come by to get the rest when I’m done here.” She paused. “If that’s okay.”

“There’s no hurry.”

“Thanks. I appreciate your hospitality—”

“Why don’t you stay another day or two?” he said. He could tell she was hesitant to stay at her own place. Going there must’ve unnerved her. But would she admit it? Hell, no. “Just to get your bearings. It would be tough for anyone to go back to a place where—” He stopped. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean.”

“So you’ll stay a little longer then?”

She didn’t answer and he finally said, “I need to talk to you about some things anyway, so say you’ll stay.”

After another pause she said, “Okay. But I won’t be finished here until about seven. And I have a lot to do that I didn’t get done over the weekend.”

He wasn’t going to let her use that as an excuse. “Bring it along.”

“I’ll see you later, then.”

“Good.” He smiled, pleased with himself. He hadn’t felt this good all day.

After talking with Macy, Rico was ready to go back to work and a half hour later, he pulled up to the building with the last address he had for Holly Magruder. He exited his vehicle and searched for the apartment number. The place was a wreck. Public assistance housing was his guess. Finding number 228, he knocked and held his badge up to the peephole in the door so whoever answered would know he was there on business and wasn’t a bill collector.

He heard a click, then another, and another. The door opened about three inches, held back by a chain lock. An older woman, who looked as if she’d seen more than her share of bad days, peered out.

He held up his badge again. “Detective Santini. I’m here to talk to Holly Magruder.”

The last lock slid off and the woman opened the door another few inches. “What did you say, Officer?”

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