The Darkest Danger (Shattered Series Book 2) (14 page)

***

     Scribbling his signature on the ledger, he struggled to keep a straight face as his daughter sent him another impatient look from across the desk.

     The huge armchair that she sat in dwarfed her small form. Dressed in a bright yellow, frilly sundress, Meghan was the perfect picture of adorability and cuteness, he mulled, stifling yet another smile as she frowned.

     His lips twitched. “What is it, Poppet?” he asked, glancing up from the papers.

     “Well, you said that you had a big surprise,” Meghan said, eyes hugely rounded. “But, there’s nothing here. I don’t see no big box with no bow or nothing.”

    “A big box with a bow?” he frowned purposefully. “Just what kind of gift are you expecting?”

     “On birthdays, you get the big boxes and stuff. But, my birthday’s not till three months,” Meghan mulled aloud, bumping the chair as she kicked her legs back and forth. Then, she gasped as if she’d received a revelation. “I know! You’re saving all the big boxes and bows for my birthday. That’s why you don’t have one today!”

     “Do all good gifts have to come in boxes?”

     “All the good ones do. You know that Daddy, you’re just being silly,” Meghan said, trying to smuggle her giggles with her tiny hands. “You gonna give me a hint?”

     “There you go, trying to wiggle a hint out of me,” he teased with a laugh. “Again, wouldn’t that give it away?”

     Her pigtails swung as she nodded. “Probly so. But, I want to know what it is. Please, can you tell me?”

     “Alright, you win,” he conceded, standing up from behind the desk. “Let’s not keep the suspense any longer. Close your eyes and no peeking.”

     Squeezing her eyes shut, Meghan could barely control her excited energy. “This is going to be the bestest present ever!” his daughter exclaimed, spreading her little arms wide. “It’s gonna be so big that I can’t even hold it!”

     The door hardly made a sound as Olivia pushed it open and then poked her head in.

    “Again, no peeking, Poppet,” he cautioned, motioning for Olivia to come in, and his heart flip flopped as she crossed the room.

     At her unguarded smile, he nearly faltered.

     Hadn’t he been robbed of that very gift once she’d learned of his betrayal? But, this wasn’t the time to focus on the fact, his inner voice warned.

     Yet, how could he ignore his inner torment, he mulled, watching her as she crossed the room. It was too potent to ignore….

     “Where is she?” Olivia mouthed silently, coming to stand before him, and her own excitement was palpable.

     He inclined his head towards the armchair.

     “Daddy, what’s happening? Why aren’t you saying anything?” Meghan complained from across the room. “And when can I open my eyes?”

     “Almost there, Poppet,” he murmured, returning to his perch behind the desk, and took in Olivia’s visage as she stood behind the armchair. No doubt, her emotions were about to overtake her.

     “Daddy,” Meghan whined. “What is it?”

     “Why don’t you open your eyes and find out?” Olivia asked softly, and huge tears pooled in her brown eyes. Her words caught on a sob. “Sweetheart, it’s me.”

     Eyes still firmly shut, lips quivering, Meghan whispered, “Livvy?”

     Crying freely, Olivia moved from behind the chair to the front before squatting down. “Yes, baby, it’s me,” she sobbed. “I’ve missed you so much.”

     “Oh, Livvy, it’s really you,” Meghan cried, nearly knocking her over as she hurled herself into her arms. “You’re back!”

     From behind the desk, Jarrod stood transfixed, taking in the emotional exchange between them, and for a moment, he was too choked to talk himself.

     But, this was their moment, he realized, moving from behind the desk. It was way past time that he took his leave.

     When he reached the door, he turned, and after absorbing the sight of them again, he made a quiet departure.

     Over Meghan’s head, she watched as Jarrod left, and as he did, her raw emotions nearly did her in. Him, the sobbing child in her arms----
they were her family
.

     How could she possibly turn her back on that?

     “I thought that I’d never see you again,” Meghan sobbed, clinging to her. “I was scared that you’d never come back.”

     “How could I not come back, sweetheart? You’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world,” she soothed, pulling back slightly before brushing the tears from Meghan’s cheeks. “There’s nothing that would keep me away from you.”

     “When they couldn’t find you and Daddy was missing, I was so scared,” Meghan hiccupped, and her small body shook from her sobs. “I’m sorry that I made you leave.”

     “Baby, look at me,” she said gently, grasping her chin. “None of this is your fault, mine, or your father’s. Things happened that were out of our control.”

     “What kind of things?” Meghan asked innocently.

     Sighing, she hugged her close again. “Things that you don’t need to worry your little head about,” she said, pulling back again. “And I don’t want you to worry, okay. Promise me.”

     “Promise,” Meghan whispered with a tearful nod. “Me, you, and Daddy, we can finally be a family again.” Sobbing, the little girl wrapped her arms around her tight. “Just like you promised.”

     Finally, the pressure caved in, and she gave into more tears. Them, a family, she mulled, squeezing her eyes shut.

    
It was the only thing that she really wanted.

***

     At 4:30 pm, Jarrod faced a belligerent Agent Bietel across the long mahogany table in the conference room at Sabatino Imports.

     Fiftyish, balding, the heavyset federal agent was one of the best in the field, having brought down some of the nation’s most notorious criminals. To say that the man disagreed with his latest shenanigans would be a misstep.

     “The good news---the kidnapping charges against you have been dropped. The bad news? Confiscating and hiding Addison’s drug shipment while it was en route from Colombia without the FBI giving the go ahead---let’s just say that it didn’t go well with the bigwigs at headquarters,” Agent Bietel uttered with a deep frown. “As a matter of fact, they’re suggesting that we cut your ties with this case altogether. They say that you’re a loose cannon, and that you could jeopardize the case against the Addison organization.”

     He passed the federal agent a cool look. “I’m the best chance that they have on getting the goods on the son-of-a-bitch and his father. Correct me if I’m wrong, but all the information that you do have, hasn’t most of it came from the things that my associates and I have discovered?” At the agent’s silence, he gave a tight smile before shrugging. “Of course, you know that, and here’s some fucking food for thought. With or without you and the suits, I will make the Addison lout pay for all that they’ve done. Whatever means that I have to use to do so, I will!”

     “I’ve put my ass on the line for you for the last time, Sabatino!” Agent Bietel snapped, leaning forward in the chair while pointing a finger at him. “Don’t screw it up.”

     “And you of all people should know by now that I don’t play by the rules,” he said angrily, sitting forward in the chair fast, and the fire blazed in his green orbs. “Right now, you’re going to have to trust my word that I’m close to nailing the bastards to the wall. I just need a little more time and cooperation on your part.”

     When the conference door opened, they both looked as Marc sailed in.

     “Seems that I’m missing all the fireworks,” Marc cracked, shutting the door behind him, and ventured further into the room. He sank down in the chair at his right. “Hard to tell whose winning the match.”

     “Don’t worry. We’re just getting started,” he scowled heavily, shuffling through the papers in the manila file folder, and then hurled it on the table. “Again, we need more than this to prove our case.”

     “The answer’s obvious,” Marc broke in, tenting his hands together on the tabletop. “It’s time to take off the kid’s gloves and get dirty along with them.”

     “Those bastards need shutting down all around,” he broke in with a steely look. “Drugs, human trafficking, money laundering, murder, blackmail…hell, their list of crimes is extensive. There has to be a common thread that links them together.” He leaned back in the chair. “Marc’s right. We have to get just as low, down, and dirty as they are.”

     Agent Bietel passed them both a long, hard look. “Aren’t we dismissing our lethal weapon---Olivia Lange?” the federal agent muttered, and his thick beard moved along with his mouth as he spoke. “She could blow this whole case wide open. If we could get her professional help, somehow jog her memory, and then, hopefully, she could recall where she’s hidden the evidence---”

      “Over my fucking dead body,” he quipped tightly, rearing up fast in the chair. “There’s no way in hell Olivia’s going to be involved in any of this.”

     “That’s no longer your call, Sabatino,” Agent Bietel snapped. “We’re running out of time, options, and opportunities. The Addison mafia ring is spreading to all corners of the south. Word on the streets is that they’re trying to expand their operations as far as Birmingham, Alabama.” He shook his head. “No, we’re going to use her. Not only will she be a viable resource to the case, but she’s a reliable witness as well.”

     “Damn it, Bietel,” he cursed, sending the chair careening over as he stood abruptly. “What part of Olivia’s not going to be involved are you not hearing? Leave her the hell alone.” He released another round of violent expletives. “If and when Olivia remembers her past, it will be for her sake and not this damn case. Her memories and past belong to her and only her. I’m warning you, Bietel. Back off.”

     “If you think for one second that your personal relationship with this woman supersedes my authority or this federal investigation---”

     “Oh, shit, here we go,” Marc muttered, shaking his head. “Are we going to get any fucking where in this conversation, or will the both of you keep it up this tireless battle of wills?” He raised both hands in the air in defeat. “Okay, you both win. I’m out of this. You two, go at it.”

     In the background, he heard Marc’s words, but hardly attended to them.

     “To hell with your authority, Bietel,” he said coldly, bracing both hands against the conference table. “The last thing that you want to do is make an enemy out of me. Go after Olivia, and you’ll find out how dangerous I am. And that’s both a threat and a promise.” He looked at the agent dead on. “She’s suffered enough abuse from them to last a lifetime, and I won’t let her suffer another minute. I only have one word of warning----don’t get in my way.” With cold precision, he placed the chair upright before sitting down again. Though his hands were steady, he still fought to control his open rage. Once more, he gave the man a cold look. “Go back and tell your fucking superiors to mull that fact over. Now, get the hell out of my office.”

     Passing an equally cold smile, Agent Bietel stood. “I’ll be in touch,” the man muttered, sweeping past the long conference table as he treaded for the door. When he reached it, he paused. “Remember one thing, Sabatino. Neither of us can do this alone. We need each other. I think it’s high time that
you
chew on that fucking fact. Have a good day, gentlemen. As always, it’s been a pleasure.”

     Still, though, he didn’t look up until the door had closed behind him. When it did, he released his frustration.

     “Damn it!” he exploded, coming up from the chair, and then strode towards the wide paneled glass before looking out.

      The blue skyline held the summer sun, but yet no answers for him. Turning around, he faced his closest friend. “Tell me how to fix this, Marc.”

     “First of all, you want to avoid threatening a federal agent. That wasn’t a smart move at all, bro, and it’s probably put you in the running for a long prison sentence,” Marc offered, raising a brow, and then passed him a long look. “And you’re going to go ballistic when I say this. But, I agree with some of Bietel’s suggestions.”

     “What?” he spat in disbelief. “Surely, you don’t agree that Olivia should be involved in this.”

     “Dude, we can’t overlook the fact that she does hold crucial evidence somewhere---”

     “No,” he raged again, crossing the room. “You’re just as fucking crazy as he is. I can’t believe that you’re actually siding with that son-of-a-bitch!”
     “Damn it, Jarrod,” Marc cursed, slapping a hand against the table. “I’m on your side. It’s time that all of us go on with our lives. But, we can’t, not as long as we’re dealing with Addison.” He challenged him with a long, hard look. “How many years has it been now? It has practically taken over our entire lives, and we haven’t breathed, let alone lived. Me, you, Meghan, and Olivia---it’s time that we claim the victory and go on.”

     “And she’s going to do that dead?” he said in a whiplash tongue. “Dead like Caitlyn and Colin? Tell me, Marc, what kind of victory are they living now?”

     “Do you think that you’re the only one who’s grieving?” Marc murmured, and pain flashed across his face. “In case you’ve forgotten, Caitlyn was my sister and Colin my nephew. I want justice for them just as much as you do.”