Seeing Love: Saints Protection & Investigations (35 page)

*

“Who’s down there?”
Anton asked.

Without answering him, Mitch escorted Constance down the stairs, handing her off as his eyes landed on Faith.

Bart noticed a young, dark haired boy standing with Jack. Just then Ivan, Anton, and Dmitry noticed him as well. Gasping his name, Ivan rushed over before his legs gave out as he came to his grandson. Clasping Erik to his chest, his heart-wrenching sobs filled the crowded room. Anton and Dmitry rushed over as well, engulfing the two in their embraces.

After a minute Ivan stood, his hands firmly holding Erik’s shoulders, and turned toward the assembly. Before he could speak, Erik called out, “Mom? Is our game over? Roger’s in the room, but Faith said he was sick.”

Constance tried to move out of Mitch’s grasp, but his grip was equally unyielding. Blaise came from inside the room, a staggering Roger in his custody.

Ivan, finally finding his voice, roared, “Somebody better tell me what the hell is going on!”

Mitch, handing Constance over to Chad, walked over to peer into the room before looking back at Ivan. “If you look here, you’ll see where your grandson has been all along.”

Walking on stiff legs, Ivan moved to the hidden room, his eyes disbelieving, with Anton and Dmitry on his heels. The noise of other FBI agents coming into the room was disregarded as the three men stared into the holding room that Erik had been in for over a week. Ivan, head shaking, turned back to the group. First piercing Mitch, and then Bart, with a stare, he finally landed his gaze on Constance.

“You? You?” his voice deathly cold. “You held my grandson in this prison for over a week? What kind of monster are you?”

“He’s my son and he was never in danger!” Constance bit back, her face twisted in anger.

“For what?” Anton asked, his expression still one of shock.

Her eyes shifted over to Roger, who was not making eye contact with her anymore. Pursing her lips, she glared at the men in the room. “For the money, what else?”

“Money?” Ivan repeated incredulously. “You want for nothing here. I pay for everything for you and Erik.”

“I wanted out from under you,” she growled. “By the time you finish going legitimate, there may be nothing left of Erik’s inheritance. I decided to take you for what I could get and then leave. Roger and I have been planning this for over a year. We built this safe room, just waiting for the right time.”

Constance smiled, cocking her eyebrow as she looked over at Mitch. “As you can see, my son was perfectly safe and comfortable in this room. After all, it’s not a crime to have your child sleep in a different bedroom in a neighbor’s house. He had food, water, a lovely room and bathroom, plenty of toys and books and I saw him every day.” Leaning in a little closer, she smirked. “I didn’t send any demands. I’ve come in no contact with any money. I didn’t commit a crime, Agent Evans.”

Mitch smiled an equally cocky grin as he moved directly in front of her. “You should have done your homework, Mrs. Krustas. Extortion, filing a false police report, actual knowledge of a crime, aiding and abetting, aiding in a felony, assaulting Ms. Romani, accessory, conspiracy—”

“But, but,” she interrupted, looking between Mitch and Roger. Lifting her hand, she cried, “It was his idea! He’s got the money. He sent the notes—”

“Shut up!” Roger, finally coming to life, roared at her.

Having listened quietly, Faith’s gentle, but firm, voice called out, “We need to take care of Erik and leave this for a later time.” Walking out of Bart’s embrace she moved to Erik, kneeling in front of the boy whose confused expression concerned her. “How about you and me go upstairs for a little while?”

Offering her his hand, he took it as she walked to the bottom of the stairs. Constance broke loose, running over to him. “Baby, please tell them you were safe. We had fun down here in our little pretend castle, didn’t we?”

He threw his arms around his mother, saying, “Don’t cry mom. As soon as you talk to them, we can pack for our trip, right?”

Constance glanced up at Faith, her eyes filled with tears. “Oh baby, we might have to wait on that trip for just a bit.”

The FBI agents allowed Faith to lead Erik upstairs first, before handcuffing Constance and Roger. Ivan glanced to his two nephews, his face torn between emotions. Mitch gave orders to the other agents to take Constance and Roger up the stairs leading to the garage. “I’ll finish here and then meet you at the police station.” Giving more orders to the other agents to begin processing the scene, he then nodded to Ivan to proceed up the stairs. The group ascended into Roger’s kitchen, finding Faith already speaking to a sobbing Mrs. Dukakas, who had followed the group over and now held Erik to her expansive bosom.

Bart moved over to Faith seeing tears in her eyes as well. “Come on, princess. Let’s go.” He began to lead her toward the front door when Ivan called out to her.

“Faith, when did you know?”

She turned and looked at the group. For a moment she froze, seeing all the faces.
How do I explain this to them?
The Saints…several FBI agents…the Krustas family. She felt a strong hand on her shoulder and twisted to look up into Bart’s face. The face that only a week ago, with these very people, denounced her. And now that face gazed down at her in acceptance…understanding…concern. Offering him a tiny smile, she turned her face toward the group seeing encouragement—not condemnation.

Sucking in a deep breath, she said, “I didn’t have a clue until this morning.” Her eyes met Ivan’s. “Last week, all I felt was hurt and anger and fear from all of you. I didn’t feel any fear in Erik’s room, but didn’t understand that at the time. With your…uh…competitors, I felt overwhelming violence, but nothing that tied into Erik.”

“What about your drawings?” Dmitry asked as he moved to stand with his uncle.

“I finally had an image of Erik, but he was smiling. He would only do that if he were comfortable with where he was and who he was with.”

“And this morning? Did you know it was her?” Anton asked.

Shaking her head, she admitted, “No. I felt sadness from everyone, but then began to feel the presence of something else. A little guilt…but…more like contentment.” Her eyes moved from Dmitry to Anton to Ivan. “I honestly moved around the room, hoping that I could pinpoint my feelings. It wasn’t until I went back home and began to draw.”

She hesitated, searching the gazes once more, but seeing nothing but interest. “I saw images of the three of you playing with Erik, but it wasn’t until I drew the last picture of him sitting on the bed that I knew. This time, I saw his mom in the room with him and he was smiling.” Giving a little shrug, she admitted, “I mistakenly assumed that it meant he was at her house. When I was in the truck waiting, I began to feel that he was close, but not there.”

Dmitry nodded, saying, “I saw her immediately leave the room after you left this morning. She must have told Roger she suspected you knew.”

Ivan walked over, his red-rimmed eyes pinning her as he reached out to clasp her hands in his. “Thank you, my dear.”

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t have helped sooner.” Her shoulder lifted and fell with a sigh. “I can’t turn it on or off. Sometimes, things just have to come to me.”

He leaned over, kissing both cheeks before whispering in her ear. Moving back, he turned swiftly, once more the man in charge. “Agent Evans, I’m sure you’ll want to interview Erik. I’m calling my private doctor to examine him first. Anton, Dmitry—we need to find out how to get the money back. Mrs. Dukakas, let’s get Erik comfortable back in his own room.”

Jack and the Saints grinned as they trooped out of the house, Bart and Faith surrounded by them. Monty conferred with Mitch for a moment before following the rest of the Saints out as well. Bart led her to the passenger side of his truck, but halted before lifting her in. Leaning over, he placed a kiss on her lips. Tender.

“Gotta tell you, I was fuckin’ scared when I couldn’t find you,” he confessed. “You and I need to have a little talk about staying where I put you.”

Arching her eyebrow while cocking her head, she said, “That discussion may not turn out as you desire. I’m not a dog—”

She was shushed as his lips hit hers, this time scorching. Melting underneath his ministrations, she kissed back with equal ardor.

Finally moving an inch back, but still breathing her in, he touched the St. Bartholomew pendant hanging between her breasts, adding, “Never been scared on a mission before.”

“What made this one different?” she boldly asked, lifting her hands to his shoulders before sliding them around his neck.

“Never been in love before,” he grinned the panty-melting smile that was now only hers.

*

Having received word
that Faith was safe and Erik had been found, safe as well, Luke sent a message.

All is well. You were right.

He waited just a moment before the reply came back.

I’m glad.

He sat staring at the screen, his fingers dancing across the keyboard, begging to be told the identity of the person on the other end. His forefinger hovered over the enter key, but he knew.
This person will let me know what I need to know…when they want me to know it.

He deleted his entire response and added a new one.

Thank you.

Epilogue

One week later

E
ntering Chuck’s Bar
and Grille, Bart linked fingers with Faith as they made their way toward the tables pushed together, holding the Saints and several women. Bethany, Miriam, and Sabrina made up the core women—those with lasting power. Faith moved over to greet them as Bart signaled Trudi, the longtime waitress, for more beer. Faith looked up in surprise as the tall, middle-aged blonde with big curves and even bigger hair walked over, setting their beer on the table.

“Well, as I live and breathe,” Trudi said, looking Faith up and down.

Faith, nervous under the woman’s scrutiny, smiled as the woman slapped Bart on the arm.

“Looks like the big dog finally settled down,” Trudi cackled. “There’ll be hearts breaking all over the county!”

Having the good graces to blush, Bart pulled Faith into his embrace, pretending to glare at Trudi over Faith’s head.

After throwing her head back in laughter, Trudi gazed fondly at the other men gathered. “Hmm, that makes four of you now hitched.” She waggled her finger around to the others. “And I’ll wager it won’t be long for the rest of you!”

Blaise, Marc, and Luke pretended to be horrified while Monty just shook his head and Chad looked thoughtful. Mitch had joined the celebration of another successful case closed and grinned at seeing his friends squirming.

“And for you, gentlemen, tonight’s beer is on the house!”

The Saints cheered while Chuck grumbled over behind the bar. Faith looked around the old establishment. The well-worn, mismatched bar stools along with the tables were filled tonight and she saw a few women looking over at the Saints speculatively. Suddenly nervous, she bit her bottom lip, wondering how many of them were wanting to be in her place.

“Stop,” came the whispered order at her ear.

Glancing up, she blushed as she saw Bart’s eyes on her.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he admitted, regret in his eyes. “You’re it for me now, princess. Only you. Whatever I was before, is gone. That part of my life is over.” Leaning down, his lips a whisper away from hers, he added, “I only see you. Forever.”

Her lips curved into a smile as her eyes met his.

*