SEIZED Part 3: Steamy Romantic Suspense (Seize Me Romance Fiction Series) (3 page)

Carrie

The sudden change of pace has me reeling. I was just about to come. I’m all messed up now. I can barely think.
Fuck.

“Hello Agent Cooper. Can I offer you something to drink?”

I meet his eyes.

He smiles and says, “No thanks, you go ahead. I’d like to get this preliminary interview out of the way as soon as possible.”

I take the hint, and in a way, I’m relieved for his professional tone. It feels like business. I end up making myself a coffee. This morning has been a wild ride, from sneaking around in Jersey, to coming back to some of the best sex of my life. And now, I am facing off with a guy who reminds me of that futuristic dystopian movie with Keanu Reeves.

The room seems smaller with him in here. It’s strange, because he’s not that big. In fact, he’s quite small, compared to the width and muscle of Blake, but just as tall and lean. He must eat nothing but protein, and the hearts of lesser men.

I giggle and he looks up.

“What’s funny, Miss Blake?”

“Oh sorry, I’ve just never met an FBI agent before. Sorry, you’re exactly what I thought one would be like.”

He laughs and looks at me strangely.

“Sorry, I’m nervous,” I say. “I’m a little cagey from being in protection 24/7. All I want is to see April returned safely. It’s been the worst few days of my life.”

He looks taken aback at my honesty. I’m relieved to see he has a trace of empathy or compassion, or both. Some of these people working in law enforcement forget they’re dealing with real people; not just victims and witnesses.

I make sure my coffee is black and strong before taking him out to the balcony, where there are still two seats waiting to be occupied. I’m nervous, so I light a cigarette and take my time, examining him for a second. He’s obviously itching to get started. He doesn’t look uncomfortable; just determined.

That’s what this case needs—someone who won’t be emotionally involved; someone persistent, and who’ll tell me the truth. It’s changing me, the pressure of all of this. I feel like a completely different woman from how I was a couple of weeks ago. For one thing, I smoke way more than I ever did. A pack would last me a couple of months, and now it’s become an everyday thing. The stress is getting to me. I’m doing anything I can do to cope.

I sit back in my chair. It’s not the most comfortable, but it gives me a chance to really look at Agent Cooper. He’s a handsome man. I am objective, even if I have just climbed out of bed with my first love.

His hair is black and spiked in a way that doesn’t seem appropriate for a government agent. He balances it out with a suit that looks like he bought it from a high end menswear boutique. He also smells incredible. Even out here I catch the scent of expensive aftershave. I wonder how he can afford to dress so well as a public servant.

I’m not about to ask him, but I notice, and I do have a well-tuned appreciation for eye candy.
See? There I am.
The old Carrie must be lurking inside me somewhere.

“Agent Cooper, can you tell me a little about yourself before we begin? Why has the FBI decided to wait this long before intervening?”

He’s a professional. Still, I get the feeling he’s reacting like I’m interviewing
him
.

“Good question, Carrie. The FBI has been tracking this case from the morning April was taken. We were unable to intervene until now. We now feel there is significant evidence to support the theory that her abduction is linked to another set of crimes across the country.”

I take a long drag of my cigarette. “What type of crimes?”

The moment stretches out. I can’t read him at all. I wait and brace myself for the worst. If April is dead, I’d like to know. I’m sure I’d know already on the inside if she were. Isn’t that how best friends would feel?

“Carrie, the other abductions happened in a similar way. All were unexpected grabs under the cover of darkness. All were in public places by a group of men in hoods. The kidnapping vehicle description is similar, as is the brutality to the victim or witnesses. And the lack of evidence is the same.

“In two of the other cases, the security footage was also wiped clean. The witnesses also reported seeing burn scars on the hands and necks of the assailants. All of this tells us there’s a good chance your girl was taken by the same people.

“There’s a highly technical operation at work here. We know a little more about one of the earlier cases than we do about this one. It’s not enough to find the victim or to lay charges, but we have our suspicions that the women who are taken are being trafficked to gangs in Mexico.”

At that, I start to cry. “What happens to them then?”

He looks compassionately at me, but continues on in the same cool tone. “Generally, they’re sold to the highest bidders, who keep them for a few months. After that, they’re passed down through the crew, or swapped for other collateral. Once they’re tired, or the drugs get to be too much, they’re disposed of. If they’re lucky, they’re sent back to work for local pimps here in the States.”

I feel sick. I have to remind myself not to be dramatic. “So this is just a possibility right?”

“Carrie,” he says, “Nothing is certain yet. We have no evidence April has been taken out of the country at this stage. The FBI has informants across various gang-affiliated organizations. We’ve got everyone looking out, but no one fitting her description has shown up. Now is not the time to start making assumptions. Will you keep that in mind for me?”

His words are comforting; sobering too. Until we know what the truth is, I need to keep focusing on the positive.

I decide I want to know a little more about this man. “Do you mind if I ask about your experience in this area? Why were you assigned to this case, Agent Cooper?”

He laughs and I have no idea why. It’s his first light moment, before he gives me a look like he’s back in the hot seat of being interviewed—by me.

“There’s not much of a story to tell. I was born and bred right here in New York City. I went to NYU to study Criminology, and was admitted to Quantico right after graduation. I did my rookie years under some of the best guys in the state, and ended up focusing on child trafficking crimes. It was a disturbing area. The bureau limits our time in the sector to ensure its agents maintain psychological health.

“It’s easy to lose yourself with the workload and the brutality of it all, but it set me up with a strong network of contacts in a similar field as this one. The fate of many kidnapped trafficked children is virtually the same. First Mexico, and then the world. They’re more valuable because they’re younger, that’s all. I was assigned to this case because I have unique experience that could be directly useful. Does that answer your question?”

I feel a little chastised. I wasn’t questioning his authority, but his resume makes me realize I’ve been blissfully unaware of the situation from a macro perspective, and possibly also the sheer number of victims. I sense I shouldn’t have asked. At least I can trust he knows what he’s doing. Even if he didn’t tell me anything about himself personally, I can tell he has the intellectual goods to help April. No offence to Blake or the NYPD, but if anyone is going to find April, I think it’ll be this man.

He also doesn’t seem at all affected by my appearance, or by working with a young woman. That’s a good thing. He must be happily married. I’ve learned who to trust, and on how to use my instincts. I’m not about to stop using them now.

“Ok, thanks for that.” I put down my coffee cup. “Where would you like to get started?”

He nods his approval and asks if I mind heading inside from the balcony.

“Of course,” I say, and we make our way back to the small couch where everything started with Blake this morning. He must sense my discomfort, because he gives me the couch and pulls up a straight-backed chair from the small dining table in the corner.

“I want you to go over the night April was kidnapped, in detail. Don’t leave anything out, and don’t feel you have to relay it to me in any order. I don’t want you to recite the events like you’ve done before. This is more of a free flow conversation. We’ll cover what happened, and what your suspicions are. After that, I’ll ask you some questions to make sure I understand.”

I’m starting to feel safe in his hands. It’s less annoying this way. I’ve told the story of the abduction so many times in the last week and a half. I look him in the eye. I’m ready to talk.

“I’m not sure where to start. I guess I should say that April really needed a holiday. We both did, but she needed it more. Do you know her parents were killed this year?” I frame it as a question, but when he just nods silently, I decide not to stop again.

“Well, the grief from dealing with that was intense. She was hurting, but she wasn’t talking much about it. It was my idea to come here. When we got to New York City, she seemed distracted. I thought her behavior was a reaction to the change of pace from Iowa, you know? And being in such a large, bustling city.

We’re from a small town, so it’s very different in New York. I later learned she was acting strange because she was actually making plans to come and live here. She never told me about it. I only found out after she was taken.”

He’s still scribbling notes, and beside him, a tiny digital recorder timer keeps marching on behind its little glass screen.

“Anyway, while I thought we were having a holiday, she was making appointments to view apartments without my knowledge. I think the decision must have something to do with her Uncle Jessup. He lives out here and she probably wanted to be around her family; even if they didn’t always get on. That’s what I figure, anyway. I don’t know for sure. It’s just a hunch.

“You probably already know he’s suspected of being involved in organized crime. That’s why the NYPD spent time tracking him. But there was nothing too suspicious, except the photograph of us dancing in his club. It was taken on Jessup’s phone, and emailed to April.

“On its own, it doesn’t seem too strange when you think they’re family. But I remember. Everything started after she got that text with the photo of the two of us. That’s when she told me she was feeling ill, and asked if we could leave the club. At the time, I thought it was a guy bugging her on her phone. April was, sorry, she is…well, she’s stunning. She’s always had admirers. It wasn’t unusual to hear her talk about them getting a little too pushy. The only thing she’s ever truly loved is her dog. It’s cute. She’s a veterinary nurse training to be a veterinarian.”

“You know, I was sure the photo was a key piece of evidence. I thought it was weird that Jessup, an Uncle who she didn’t like much, decided to take sexy pictures of us. Being a reporter, I was already suspicious of him. A couple days after April was taken, I went to the club to ask him some questions about it. I thought he might open up to me in a way that he wouldn’t with the police. I’m practically family. April and I have been friends for so long. I had this idea that it might be something only I could help with, but instead, he ended up locking me in his office.

“It was awful. I thought he meant well, but now I know the guy’s just as asshole, trying to influence his pretty, recently orphaned niece. Jessup and April’s Mom were never close, so after she died it came across as quite a contrived affection. It’s sort of like he had a ‘godfather save the day, daddy type’ complex going on.”

Carrie

“Am I doing this right?”

I ask him, because I feel like I’m prattling on. I’m probably saying too much. Letting him in on my suspicious reporter’s mind may not be a good thing. It’s not anything Blake would have wanted to hear, but Jason is listening and nodding, so I keep talking.

“Then, there were the missed calls. On the night she was kidnapped, April received calls from a New Jersey number that I wanted to track down. I was sure one of them was her Uncle Jessup, but as it turned out, the number was not in his personal line. The Police eventually traced the calls back to one of the businesses he owns—an office supply company. But he wasn’t there at the time, so it makes no sense.

“I found out where it was through an article in the New Jersey Tribune. Police had been called to the building on two occasions. There were reports of a woman screaming, made by staff at the gas station across the road. The police visited the building twice to investigate. It’s weird. Even though the NYPD knew about the reports, they didn’t think to reach out to the New Jersey Police. It made me so angry, to think they’d let such a direct link to the case pass them by. So that’s why I went this morning, to check it out.”

He stops me.

“You went to a warehouse in New Jersey by yourself this morning?”

I nod. “I know it wasn’t the best idea, but I had to do it. I’m a reporter. It’s my best friend out there. I got a solid lead, and when the police refused to follow it, I had to go see for myself. You might have noticed Blake Anderson was here this morning. We’ve known each other for years. We went to school together. I feel he was being too protective of me all through the case.

“It was just dumb luck that he was the officer in charge, but it complicated things. I get the feeling he wasn’t going to take me seriously no matter what I found out. That’s why there’s an officer stationed here. The more he tried to stop me from looking for her, the more I wanted to look. She’s my best friend. Something had to be done.

“He was just worried I’d get myself in trouble after I noticed someone following me some nights ago. I think it has less to do with the case, and more to do with his personal feelings.”

I see the confused look on his face. He looks shocked at everything I’m saying.

“Yes. I was stalked the other night, and chased and for a while. I thought it was the kidnappers coming back to kill me as I’m a witness. Now, I think it was just Blake’s ex-girlfriend. She phoned me to warn me to back off and leave Blake alone, too. The more I think about it, the more I feel it might have been her, trying to scare me.”

He interrupts me. “And did you ask Blake about this person?”

I nod. “Yes, I did. He refused to say anything. I felt he didn’t trust anything I had said about her call; or the case, for that matter.”

“Okay,” he says. “Thank you for your honesty, Carrie. I had no idea so much had happened. I want to ask you a few questions about Detective Anderson before we go on. After that, you can tell me more about when you and April were attacked.”

I gesture in agreement.

“Did Detective Anderson make it clear to you that you had the option of staying at another safe house?”

“Yes.”

“Did he reveal the history you have to his superiors?”

“I believe he did, but I am not sure exactly what he told them.”

“Were you ever of the impression that Detective Anderson was operating under the influence of alcohol?”

“Definitely not. I know he was going to meetings, or talking to his sponsor. I saw his behavior around me for days. I’m a hundred percent sure he never drank.”

Jason takes more notes, and I start to feel worried. I don’t want to drag Blake into anything, but this line of questioning seems inappropriately timed.

“I think you have the wrong idea about Detective Anderson.”

Jason looks up from his note taking. “What do you mean?”

“He’s a hard-working police detective. He’s good at what he does. There was nothing suspicious about the way he worked. I know what suspicious looks like. I’m a reporter, and the only thing I’m not happy with is he didn’t tell me the truth about his ex. There’s no reason to suspect him of drinking. I know how proud he is of his sobriety.”

“Carrie, there are some things you don’t know about Detective Anderson; things that will surprise you. The person you went to school with is very different from who you reconnected with ten days ago. A lot has happened, and whenever a police officer and a witness have a connection, it jeopardizes a case.

“My primary focus is to investigate April’s disappearance, but I’ll also be providing my superiors with a report on how the case was handled. Should that reveal any negligence by Detective Anderson, I assure you, it’s nothing to do with you.

“The objective decision making process of an officer of the law is of the utmost importance. We often have to make life or death decisions. Your safety and your mental wellbeing are just as important as that of the primary victim, and I don’t believe you were treated well.”

“In what way?” I say.

My throat starts to close. I’ve said too much. It’s starting to sound like a witch hunt.

“When you were first processed at the station, the report says you didn’t get a chance to speak about what happened with a female officer. Is this true?”

I think back. “I didn’t want to see the sexual abuse team. There was no abuse to report. Is that what you mean?”

“No. I’m talking about the fact that you were carrying evidence that wasn’t processed until two days after the attack. You were wearing the victim’s bag under your clothes. At first glance, it may seem suspicious, but in reality, it was a flaw in the intake process. It’s a relatively minor issue, but it means there was a delay in collecting evidence, which, in itself could have made a difference to the victim’s current situation.”

Hearing that I could have put April in danger again makes me want to bawl, but I hold it together.

“Are you asking me to tell you that Blake was negligent? Because he’s not to blame for the purse. That was all on me. I was the one who forgot I had it.”

The tone in my voice is creeping towards desperation. There’s something so sad about a woman defending a man that isn’t committed to her. But then again, maybe he is, if this morning was anything to go by. Agent Cooper’s questions are thrumming at the pain and confusion I feel about Blake. Here’s another handsome guy, pointing out some logical truths to me.

He’s suggesting April’s case was handled poorly; that I should never have been put under the protection of a police officer with whom I had a prior history. And even though I loved every minute of it, Blake probably shouldn’t have come on to me. I don’t know where the line is. I don’t want to make judgments about Blake, but from this man’s point of view, the case clearly did not start off on the right foot.

The way Jason Cooper is talking, he’s already made the decision about Blake. I get the sense I’m being used to prove a point, and it’s not fair. I feel guilty. I want to back track and take back everything I just said, but it’s too late. I have just encouraged a witch hunt, but does Blake need help?

Loyalty to him may have meant keeping our involvement a secret, but in the end, things like this come out. I don’t know if in this case, whether it’s for his own good. Right now, I don’t feel good about sharing so much without having told him I was doing it first.

I tell myself this would have come out anyway. If Blake has done something wrong, it needs to be put right. Saving April is the most important thing—even if I want to save the man I think I’m falling in love with. I just wish I didn’t have to be the one to have brought these details to light.

Before I can think any more about it, Jason tells me he wants to go back to the night of the kidnapping.

“I want you do the same thing we did before. Just free flow. Tell me what you remember now, and I’ll ask questions afterward. You can just start wherever you want to start, okay?”

I like this method. My mind tends to shut down every time someone asks me about the chain of events. I’ve gotten so used to telling them in the same order, things get left out. I wonder if the FBI has hypnotists outside, or are planning to strap me up to a lie detector. The thought makes me want to giggle out loud. I can’t believe my life is so much like a suspense thriller right now.

“I remember the way the ground felt under my skin when I was hiding under the car. It was scratching my knees, but I didn’t feel it much. It was the safest piece of concrete I’d ever been on. It felt warm instead of rough.”

I look down at my knees. They are both nearly healed now. “It was funny, because I could see they were bleeding at the time, but I didn’t feel a thing. There was also the way the guys ran at me when they saw I was with April. It was like a pack of dogs. I was on their scent, and there was nothing stopping them. I was scared.

“Then there was the way they held April’s neck. She’s so thin, you know, and they just bent it. It was like watching a Barbie doll being torn apart. Her breast popped out from her top, and all I could think about was the magic tape that we had used. It let her down.”

By now there’s tears freely running down my face. For the first time, I am reliving the event as it happened, not as an observer telling the story over and over to a blank-faced cop.

Agent Cooper doesn’t say anything. He keeps nodding, and hands me some tissues from the box close to him on the table. He’s a compassionate man.

“Go on when you’re ready.”

His gentle encouragement and lack of questioning help. I imagine this is how it feels in a therapist’s office.

“I remember the sound of the hotdog vendor approaching. His voice is what made them give up and leave me behind. I was watching their feet under the car. I just knew they weren’t going to give up. They wanted to kill me. April was already in the trunk by then. I was hiding, spread out on the concrete, bleeding and trying not to breathe too hard.

“The whole thing seems to take hours, but it must have happened fast. For the first few minutes, I couldn’t move. I have a fair bit of martial arts training behind me, and I was paralyzed. At one point, I grabbed a bottle from the top of the bin, and smashed it to defend myself. It didn’t help much. He was too strong. They overpowered me and I couldn’t do anything to help her.

“They had knocked her out on the wall. Her head was bleeding. I was bleeding too. All I could think about was how I had failed her. I was supposed to look after her. I’ve always been the one who knows what to do. That was the hardest part; not when they hit me, but when I knew I had to let her go. There were so many of them, Jason.”

I mistakenly call him by his first name, but he doesn’t appear to mind. Instead, he reaches out to me with another tissue. Sharing what happened feels very different than it did with Blake. Blake was angry, and seemed like he wanted to hurt something when I shared my pain. These two men are wired completely differently. Yet how can I be attracted to them both?
How am I even attracted to Jason at all
? Blake has my heart.