Special Agent Maximilian (9 page)

Loaded with questions, Maya stepped into the interview room followed by her partner. Unknown to Nik, Max had played this game with her in the lead many times and they’d worked it well together. They’d both understood when the other needed to take over and when to back off. However, Nik didn’t have the experience or the training. It would be up to her.

Before opening the door, Maya warned. “Remember, if you don’t know what to say, leave it alone. I can handle him, okay?”

“Got it!”

Glad that he was totally professional about the situation and hadn’t taken offense, she went in and placed her papers on the table in front of Al Bard and leisurely sat down.

Arms crossed, Nik stood leaning against the wall near the large mirror. His expression of boredom and disdain were exactly what Maya had hoped for. Before getting into character, she threw him a quick wink to let him know she liked his pose. Then she became the agent everyone in the office recognized. The one who could burrow into a person’s psyche and get them to believe whatever she wanted.

Examining the sack-of-stupid across from her, she noted that his aura showed mostly grays and dark hues mixed into various other tones—all pale. This asshole had very little heart and no sympathy whatsoever. Working over this psycho, using a young girl’s death as a sympathy ploy, would get her nowhere. Maybe self-pity would.

“I don’t know Jack shit about nothing.” Slouching against the back of his chair, the idiot spoke up without giving her the courtesy of any other form of greeting.

“Yeah, Yeah! That’s a new one to me. Never heard that before, have you, Agent Foster?” As if she had all the time in the world, Maya slipped off the black jacket she wore over a silky, white tank top and slowly hung it on the back of her chair.

***

Nik didn’t answer at first until the silence grew and he realized she was eyeing him. It prompted the perp to look his way too, and that’s when he saw the fear Al couldn’t hide. In fact, he could smell it radiating in waves off the prick. He’d seen it before when his men were expected to go into battle and perform at their best. Some were cocky and had no doubts about their ability. Others acted indifferent so well that you wouldn’t know their fear existed without years of experience in working with them. Still, others had a sixth sense that their time was limited and they were coasting on thin ice. That’s the way Al Bard looked. Excitement began to sizzle inside him. If they played it just right, they could get this man to spill his guts. His faith in Maya had to hold.

Grinning confidently, he finally broke the spell. “Nope. It’s a new one to me.”

Smiling back at him, Maya took quite a few seconds before turning in Al’s direction. “Hope you had a good time this last week as a free man, Al, because you won’t be seeing the outside of a prison cell for one hell of a long time.”

Al stared at her, ogled her chest area, his eyes undressing her. She let him see just what he’d be missing.

He flinched so slightly; you had to be watching for it to see the movement. Then his face hardened back to the mask of indifference he’d worn when she’d first stepped into the room. He didn’t speak, but now his fingers played a tune on the gray metal table top.

“That sweet girlfriend you’ve been living with, Sadie Moore, will get herself a new man faster than I can say twenty years. Oh, yeah! She’ll be finding herself another daddykins very soon.” Maya threw a photograph across the table, showing the face of a younger woman in her twenties with a big hairdo, blue eyes and overly reddened, pouty lips. “We’ll be investigating her thoroughly; could be she’s your accomplice.”

Al glanced down but still didn’t reply. His fingers worked the table a little faster than previously.

Deciding to try another tack, Maya switched gears. “Did you know that dead girl in the container you were after was underage, a child?”

“I wasn’t after any container.”

“Don’t be stupid, Al. We got your paperwork. Not only were you there to pick up a container, but it was also that particular one you came for.”

“Don’t call me stupid!” Al’s chin wobbled from the instant anger her words produced. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to pick up. I had my manifest and was going to turn it into the loading guy at the dock. Only they knew what I had to collect.”

“Well, you’re right about that. They knew you were to collect that container, all right. But they swore it hadn’t been opened and so there was no way of knowing there was a girl locked inside. The box sat in the cargo area for three days in the sweltering heat, waiting for someone to fetch it.”

“I don’t know nothing about that.” Al crossed his arms and glared at her with righteous fury.

“No? It was shipped from overseas to Smith & Sons, your so-called employer, who, by the way, filed a report that their truck—the very one you were driving—was stolen. Seems they have no record of you being on their payroll either. You do realize, they’re going to throw you under the proverbial missing truck, Al. They don’t give a rat’s ass about your troubles.”

Maya grinned gleefully at Nik. “Poor sucker won’t even get a paycheck when this is all said and done. Instead, all he’s looking forward to is a stretch in jail while his pretty lady friend moves on to another guy.”

Nik couldn’t help himself. “Hell, now that I know she’ll be free, I might just look her up myself. She works at the Pink Pussycat, right? I might need a drink after work tonight.”

Without any warning, Al shoved himself away from the table and lunged at Nik. He went for his throat, both hands extended to grip and maul. Problem was, those same hands ended up being used to flip him over onto his back. And it happened faster than either Al or Maya could blink and prepare for.

The pressure from Nik’s knee placed strategically across the other man’s neck convinced him he’d better stop wriggling. “You going to behave?” Nik stared him down and waited for Al to acknowledge who had the power. Al’s nod did just that, and with a move no one expected, Nik lifted him and planted his ass back in the chair.

“You’re a patsy, you know that? I sure as hell don’t feel sorry for anyone who’s begging to be screwed as much as you are.” As if he’d touched something that had gone bad, Nik dusted his hands on his pants and returned to his stance by the wall.

“You wouldn’t believe anything I tell you.” Al had trouble getting the words out through his now raw throat.

“Try me,” Maya leaned forward watching Al rubbing his neck, tears forming in his eyes—tears of self-pity.

“I didn’t know nothing about no dead girl in the container. All’s I know is they lost something and it wasn’t until this morning that they found out what had happened—that the cargo was in that container and it needed to be fetched. I overheard them talking when they called me into the office. I don’t know nothing about no dead body.”

“So you do work for these guys?”

“Yeah, sometimes. They call me for special jobs. That’s all I’m saying. I want my lawyer before you get anything else.”

Rather than driving straight to the offices of Smith & Son, Maya and Nik stopped off at a courtyard café for lunch. They shared po’boys and coffee, both anxious to discuss what they’d learned from Al Bard.

“You always strip off your clothes to snare the male offenders?” The cranky way Nik asked made her pay attention.

Her expression lit up with pretend disbelief. “I was hot?”

“So was Al.”

“You really got a problem with a girl using every bit of ammunition she can to suck in slime like him?”

“Well, when you put it that way.”

“I know a lot of male cops who like to prance around the room, show their muscles, play the ego card. All I did was remind the idiot of what he’d be missing after being put away for a lot of years. Sometimes it works, many times it doesn’t. No harm in trying. You sound jealous.”

Looking uncomfortable with the knowing smile she sent his way, Nik changed the subject. “Did you read the report on Smith & Sons that came in before we left?”

She nodded and chewed her lunch, her teasing expression changing to utmost satisfaction. “Hmm… my favorite food aside from jambalaya and fried catfish.” She licked the sauce from her lips and watched him zero in on her mouth. She almost blew him a kiss and stopped herself just in time. What the hell was she thinking? This man was a virtual stranger. And yet, she instinctively felt more comfortable with him than she ever had with his brother. Watching, she saw him arch his neck one way and then the other as if the gorgeous silk tie he wore was choking him.

“You’re not comfortable in Max’s clothes, are you?” She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting he wore the clothes better than Max. There was something about the way he relaxed his body… not wound tight all the time. It was sexy, a come-on, one she fought against.

“No! I dislike suits. Even the military dress uniforms are a pain. But the reason I’m not relaxed is because I don’t think we should be sitting out in the open like this. After that last ambush, we know the word is out that Max’s back from the dead. Whoever worked him over in that alley must be thinking he’d screwed up badly. Most likely, he’ll try again.”

“You say that as if you know he got out of that alley alive.”

“You never found a body.”

“That doesn’t mean diddly. There’re a lot of swamps out there that they could hide a man in and no one would ever find the body.”

Nik came close to sharing his knowledge with her. Only his promise to Max kept him quiet. “True. So, if they did haul his body out there, he could have miraculously survived. That means they’ll believe I’m him and they’ll make doubly sure not to screw up again.”

All of a sudden, Maya saw Nik’s expression change from a man listening to one sending a warning glare.

Maya, too sharp to have missed this little ploy, turned to see who he was signaling and saw a blonde cook do an about face and head back into the kitchen.
Now what the hell was that all about?
Before she could question him, he changed the subject.

“What’s next on the agenda?”

Shrugging, she answered, “I figure we’re on to something with Smith & Sons. The information we’ve got is really sketchy. Seems you were right about their income not resulting from a lot of transporting freight. On the other hand, because they own a shipping company, they get to show up at the docks whenever they have containers arriving without anyone questioning their presence. It’s pretty slick when you think about it. With their trucks, they can shuffle the girls all over the country, feed their operations in the major cities and no one is any the wiser.”

“What I don’t understand is how they get the cargo screened and passed through inspection?”

“That’s easy. All you need to do is pay off certain people who’re employed in different vicinities. Inspectors, warehouseman, loaders. Actually, thanks to you, we’re on it. We’ve started a huge information-gathering sweep and it’s happening right now to the employees who work anywhere that Smith & Sons have contracts. We’ll find our link. In the meantime, let’s go and see what Mr. Smith has to say. ”

Smith & Sons was a run-down office building inside a fenced-in yard with little activity happening. Also, there were a whole lot of unkempt laborers visible, sitting around, screwing the dog.

Nik had felt uncomfortable from the minute they’d exited their Fed vehicle and entered the premises. Several characters stalked them with steely-eyed glares, and for him to walk nonchalantly alongside Maya took all the acting skills he possessed. His training would have put him at a crouch with a high-powered rifle in his hands and a platoon behind.

Shocked at how toxic the place felt, he could only imagine how the atmosphere affected a woman. Yet, one might think she was taking a leisurely stroll through a Macy’s lingerie section.
God, this gutsy chick was getting to him!
Red—no gold—in the sunlight, her curls framed her beautiful face and he had an urge to walk closer, his hand holding hers, tagging her as his property.

For the first time, her slight frame concerned him. He knew she’d be overpowered in a fight, should one break out. Sweat pooled under his collar, not just from the hundred or so degree temperature, but from the instant fear he felt for her safety. Without him meaning to, his hand went to the weapon attached to his belt and it stayed there until they entered the dilapidated building accentuated by dirty windows and weeds dying against the unpainted walls.

In the front office, a tall wooden counter swamped the small space. Behind, at a cluttered desk, a man sat, playing on a computer, surrounded by papers stacked everywhere, mostly covered in grime and dust. The lack of work being done was obvious. As a front for whatever shenanigans they were covering up, the place was perfect.

The skinny, bored clerk, maybe in his early twenties, glanced their way. As soon as he saw they weren’t part of the crew, he sat up and swallowed, his protruding Adam’s apple doing a dance number in his long throat.

“Can I help you?” At least he spoke with some degree of courtesy.

Maya flashed her badge, and a poke from her reminded Nik to pull his out too. “Good afternoon. I’m Agent Maya Barnes, and this is my associate, Agent Foster. We’d like to speak to Mr. Smith, the owner.”

“Do you have an appointment?” The little shit in front of them bleated the spiel he was obviously trained to use. Nik wanted to reach across the disgusting, dirty barrier, grab his scrawny neck and haul his disrespectful ass closer. Instead, he stood back and waited to see how Maya would handle the situation.

“As a matter of fact, this badge says I have an appointment with the man whenever I want it. Now pick up that intercom and tell him Agent Barnes wants a few words.”

Running dirty fingernails through short-cropped hair, the idiot hesitated until Nik stepped forward warningly. Then he did as he was told.

After speaking into the phone, informing his boss about the visitors, he pointed to the doorway on the left and gestured for them to enter.

Nik walked over and opened the door. Once he’d ascertained that one man dressed casually in shorts and a white golf shirt sat with his feet propped on the desk, holding a tablet in his hands did he move aside and let her precede.

Their host laid his toy down and sat up, taking his time to acknowledge their entrance. Finally, he looked at them arrogantly and spoke. “I understand you wanted to see Mr. Smith? I’m Smith junior. My dad isn’t here. What can I do for you?”

Nik took an instant dislike to the muscled-oaf scumbag, whose eyes were literally undressing Maya as she pretended indifference.

“We have some questions for you, Mr. Smith.” Maya took her time, her husky voice low, making him strain to hear. “You registered a stolen truck this morning with the NOPD, and we’ve come to inform you it’s been located and is being held at the Claibourne impound.”

Pretending astonishment, Smith said, “You mean to tell me the Feds are making personal visits to all robbery victims now? I’m impressed by your dedication.”

“Well, I’m
unimpressed
with you thinking we’d believe for a minute that Al Bard
isn’t
your employee and that you
didn’t
send him to pick up that container. You know, the one imprisoning a dead girl’s body while it lay rotting in the heat.”

Bristling, Smith leaned across the desk and pointed his finger at Maya. “We don’t know nothing about no dead girl, and we don’t have any Al Bard listed in our employees’ records. Never heard of the guy. If he says we sent him to pick something up at the docks, he’s a lyin’ sack of shit.”

“No, he isn’t. I mean he
is
a lyin’ sack of shit. You got that right. But he isn’t mistaken about you employing him. He’s working out a deal with his lawyer right now to tell us everything he knows about the little operation you have set up here—”

Interrupting, bristling like a cat with his tail clamped between the teeth of a pissed-off bulldog, he spat out the words, “You can talk to my lawyer, too.”

Acting reasonable, Maya smiled, pure devilment turning up the sides of those pretty lips that Nik couldn’t take his eyes off of. “Look, bud, if you want to tell me where I can find your father, I’d prefer to talk to the real boss, and not a snot-nosed kid whose daddy never trained him properly in dealing with the law.”

Freaking out big-time, Smith lunged to his feet and pointed at the still open door where three, over-sized, stomach-protruding workers stood waiting. “Get out and don’t come back without a warrant.”

Nik, who’d automatically moved between the angry man and Maya, gave him a shove back in his chair. “Whoa, slow down, Junior, and listen to the lady.”

Maya pulled out a card, passed it over. “You tell Smith Senior we want to see him. He’s to come into the office within twenty-four hours or we’ll send officers and a squad car to his home and have him picked up.” Then she turned and headed for the doorway. Without any hesitation, she sauntered past the men who made way for her and only closed ranks on Nik, squeezing him enough that he itched to retaliate.

For a few seconds, the biggest dude, decaying teeth and breath smelling like he’d lunched on rotten fish, looked as if he’d push some buttons. Nik smiled and waited. A slap on the arm from one of the other fatsos convinced the sucker to back down, but only a few inches. And Nik didn’t know if he was glad or not.

Thing was—the night Max took the beating—the only description he’d had to give was that one of his attacker’s breath had been so disgusting that it had almost made him puke.

A fraternal protectiveness Nik had only ever felt for his soldiers raised its powerful head. Without conscious thought, he moved. His hand pushed the guy’s chin so far upward, it came close to breaking bones. Knowing exactly how to place those hits so they didn’t quite kill, Nik felt utmost satisfaction when he saw that the guy would be out of action for some time. Unfortunately, the others took umbrage at this treatment of their partner and moved in immediately. Grabbing an arm as the fist of one man came toward him; Nik used it as a lever to throw him at the other advancing man.

“Stop the bullshit! Unless you all want to be arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, I suggest you boys calm down.” Holding her gun in both hands, pointing it at Junior, Maya waited.

“Back off, boys. Just remember, Agent Barnes. Your man hit first. We could lay charges against him for police brutality.”

“Not from where I stood. If Shithead hadn’t tried blocking the way, Agent Foster wouldn’t have had to convince him to move. Don’t forget to tell your daddy what I said. He has twenty-four hours. And understand this: we’ll have every exit in the city covered, so no unplanned trips.”