In Love and Rescue: When love is the perfect rescue... (23 page)

When the door fully opened, the long hair, beauty mark and sunglasses were gone from her face. Standing in front of him was
a ghost. The face of a woman who was supposed to be dead, as far as he knew.

“It’s Larke,” she answered, her eyes fixed on the gun in his hand. He motioned to the men down the hallway that it was safe before he put his gun in the holster. Larke waved him inside and he tentatively followed.

Not completely sure what was happening, he did a quick search of the room before his eyes settled back onto her face: five-foot six, creamy complexion, curly hair, and light brown eyes. She fit the description of Larke Tapley, except that this woman was alive. What was going on?

“Larke...Tapley?” He asked.
“But how?”

She rubbed her forehead. “I’m going to need you to trust me.”

He pointed to the gun that he’d just returned to its holster, but she shook her head. Her eyes then diverted to something behind him and instinctively, he reached towards his hip. Before he had a chance to retrieve the gun, his arm was pinned behind his back and he was pushed face first into the wall. Even without seeing the person, he knew that it was Desmond.

“If my guys don’t hear from me in the next four minutes, they’re going to shoot their way in here,” Lawrence threatened.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Desmond reassured before retrieving the gun. He then nodded Larke over to pat him down and remove a second weapon from his ankle holster. When they were sure that he didn’t have anything else on his body, Desmond released him.

“Will somebody explain to me what’s going on?” Lawrence demanded. “You, you’re supposed to be dead. You’re the one who killed her. If she’s not dead, who did you kill?”

Desmond leaned against the wall. “No one. I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Look,” Larke began, “something major is happening here and Eddie Jarvis, not Desmond, is behind it. I never d
ied in any fire in Jamaica. Des is the only reason I’m standing in front of you right now.”

Lawrence looked at Desmond.

“I’ll never do anything to hurt this woman,” Desmond avowed.

“The truth,” she continued, “is that virtually everything that you’ve probably been told up until this point has been a lie. It was Jarvis’ men in Jamaica
that tried to kill me. Now that he’s no longer in custody, there’s no doubt in mind that he’ll be coming after me.”

Lawrence placed his hand over his mouth and walked across the room to take a seat on top of one of the coffee tables. His hands then moved to his head. Cautiously, Larke went over to him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. When he looked up at her, his eyes were glazed over.

“You have to be telling the truth if you’re standing in front of me,” he realized. A voice came over the radio attached to his hip and he responded that he was okay and to stand down.

“I was prepared to be the one to bring you in,” he said to Desmond. “
Get a big commendation and time off so that I could go see my daughter.”

Desmond and Larke exchanged glances.

“You mean Twila?” Desmond asked.

“Taina,” Lawrence corrected. “Out of the blue
, I received a package at my office and in it, there’s a birth certificate with my name on it. After all these years of feeling like a failure because I couldn’t ever give my wife the children she so desperately wanted, I was listed as a father to a baby girl. At first I thought it was a joke and was about to confront some of the guys at the precinct about it, but then I noticed the mother’s name: Corina Bailey. No one in the office knew anything about Corina, so that’s how I knew that it was legit. She and I had a very tumultuous, passionate relationship when we were both in our early twenties. It was one of those fight-scream-yell and then make passionate love types of relationships. It finally ended when she tossed me out in the middle of the night saying that she couldn’t be around me anymore. She never told me that she was pregnant. But, why wait this long to tell me?”

He began to pace in the small space.

“She didn’t even leave a contact number. I’ll admit that I did use some of the department’s resources to try to track down a number for her, but it’s as if she fell off the map.”

Desmond and Larke exchanged another set of glances as realization set in. Not only was he unaware that both Taina and her mother had died, he
also had no idea that she’d been a twin.

“Agent Campbell,” Larke began, searching her mind for the right words to say. She cast a desperate glance in Desmond’s direction, but he only shook his head. There was no good way to deliver the
news that the daughter he’d waited years to meet was gone.

“We’re here because of Taina,” Larke continued. “During the course of our investigation, we found out that Taina’s boyfriend was linked to Eddie J
arvis and that she had a father named Lawrence Campbell that worked for Miami FBI.”

Confused, Lawrence remained silent. Although his mind was rattling with questions, from Larke’s tone, he could tell that there was more to be said.

“You see, it seems that her boyfriend found out something about Jarvis that he wasn’t supposed to know. Then, we believe he passed that information on to Taina. When Eddie found out that her boyfriend knew something, he had him killed.”

Lawrence’s face hardened. “What are you telling me?”

Larke sucked in a deep breath. “Somehow, Eddie found out that he’d passed information on to Taina. So, Eddie had her killed as well.”

Lawrence
sprang forward and Desmond immediately crossed the room to where Larke stood.

“This can’t be true,” Lawrence denied.

“It is,” Larke confirmed. “You see, Taina has a twin sister named Twila. Corina had two baby girls that day, not one. Unfortunately, Corina passed away due to complications during childbirth, which is probably why you couldn’t find any recent contact information for her.”

His hand went to his mouth. “I didn’t even think to check death records. It never crossed my mind.” Then his head popped up. “Two girls? Twila? Is she still alive?”

Larke nodded. “Yes, Twila is alive. We actually met with her.”

A tiny smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “What is she like?”

Larke returned the small smile. “She’s a tiny little thing, but she’s got some pretty strong shoulders. The same grandparents that raised both she and Taina, she’s now taking care of. I would say that she’s wise beyond her years, and she loved her sister very much.”

Larke went to the suitcase, pulled out the back
pack, and handed him the photos. “Your investigative genes run in the family. Twila gave these to us as part of a folder she kept of Taina’s things. We think that her boyfriend found out that Eddie was smuggling drugs, and she tried to reach out to you for help.”

He flipped through the photos a few times and his shoulders fell when he noticed his name on the back in his daughter’s handwriting. Closing his eyes, he clasped his hands in front of his face as
though saying a prayer. Then, after a few moments, his eyes popped open.

“Ok,” he said with finality in his tone. He then shouted a series of commands into the radio before walking towards the front door. “Tell me everything that you know. I’ll make some calls and see what additional information we can retrieve.”

Desmond put an arm across his path, blocking his access to open the door. “I only have one requirement,” he insisted. “We don’t tell the media yet that Larke is still alive, for the sake of her family’s protection.”

Lawrence immediately agreed. “I wouldn’t see it any other way. I’ll go call off the hounds and we’ll take you down the back stairs and into a waiting car.”

Desmond didn’t drop his hand. “One more thing. How did you find out that I was here?”

Lawrence flicked his thumb towards the window. “An old acquaintance of mine that drives a taxicab. He was on his way here to return a purse that he said a lady left. He gave me the description of Larke, but then mentioned that she had a man with her. When I ran into Larke downstairs, she told me she was alone. I put the rest together.”

Larke sighed exasperatedly. “I didn’t even leave a purse behind. I told you that your luck would run out, Harding.”

Lawrence chuckled slightly before pulling the door open only to find that a man was already standing there. Desmond felt his anger surge when he noticed the local news station logo on both the man’s clothing and the camera being held up behind him. He pulled off his shirt, tossed it over Larke’s head
, and pulled her into his arms, but the camera had already caught a glimpse of her face.

“Turn that off,” Lawrence ordered.

“But—” the man began.

“Turn it off and I’ll give you the real story,” he added. “Award-winning material.”

The man exchanged glances with his cameraman. “I’m sorry sir, but we’re filming live,” he informed them. “However, I’m still interested in the real story behind why Larke Tapley is still alive, and why she’s here with the same husband they’re saying killed her.”

Desmond’s muscles tensed and Larke stopped fidgeting.

“Husband?” She asked, tugging at the shirt.

“Turn it off,” Desmond ordered, shooting a threatening look at the cameraman. When the camera was finally off, he let Larke out of her t-shirt prison. She
then turned towards him, angrier than he’d ever seen her in the years they’d known each other.

“I repeat,” she
spat. “Husband?”

*****

As soon as Doug saw Larke and Desmond on the news, he knew that nothing good would come of it. He didn’t doubt that Jarvis knew that Larke was still alive, as he’d had his men tracking her since the day she stepped foot on the island. However, now that the whole world had discovered that her death was a ruse, the media would be tracking her whereabouts. All Jarvis really needed was a weak link in the chain surrounding her, someone that could be bought and sold, and he’d be able to pinpoint Larke’s location as precisely as using a thumbtack on a map.

The phone ringing on his desk pulled him away from the TV, and he lowered the volume before answering.

“Casey.”

“Doug, I thought that I’d never reach you,” the voice greeted. It was familiar, but he couldn’t immediately place it.

“I’ve been moving around a lot lately,” he answered, lazily glancing at the caller ID on his computer screen. Not just anyone would have this number. “Who is this?”

The man chuckled. “It’s been too long if you don’t recognize my voice anymore. Or maybe it’s because I’ve finally grown into it.”

Doug’s brain finally clicked. “Phillip ‘Peewee’ Thompson,” he replied. “Man, it’s been a couple of years since I last saw you, and yeah, you did finally grow into that voice. You were the only man I’d ever known to be well over six feet but have the voice of a twelve-year old.”

Phillip burst out laughing. “What can I say? My vocal chords had a hard time keeping up with my growth spurt.”

They caught up for a few brief moments before Phillip revealed the reason for his call.

“When was the last time you spoke to Desmond Harding?” he asked, hoping that the answer was fairly recent.

Doug tapped a pencil on his desk. “Very recently. I do a lot of the intelligence work for his agency, so we’re in contact often.”

Phillip glanced at the clock on his wall. He’d sent an officer out to help Wren move back to her parents’ house that should be arriving at her complex in a few minutes. The original officer that he’d given the responsibility had to bow out when his wife went into labor, so he’d reluctantly given the rookie the task, hoping that it was simple enough
that the kid didn’t have another semi-nervous breakdown.

“Good, good,” Phillip answered, “because a woman recently came into the precinct by the name of Wren Tapley. She said that her sister was murdered on the island of Jamaica and that the police are saying that Desmond is the culprit. I looked it up and even though the case is legit, it doesn’t make sense to me that Desmond, at least the Desmond I know, wou
ld harm an innocent young woman, much less his wife.”

Doug leaned forward in his chair. “Wait, you said that Wren came into your office?”

“You know her?” Phillip asked, his interest piqued.

“Her sister is Larke Tapley,” Doug informed him. “I know the case and I know for a fact that Desmond didn’t hurt Larke. That’s not our only issue, however.”

Phillip called the man walking across his office door into the room. “Stephens, why are you still here? I gave you instructions to go to Wren Tapley’s residence hours ago.”

Officer Stephens squeezed the knuckles on his left hand. “I got your memo saying that you were sending someone else.”

Phillip held up a finger to let him know to hold on, and turned his attention back to Doug. “What’s the other issue?”

Doug sucked in a deep breath. “
For one, Larke’s not dead. There was also a kidnapping attempt in Jamaica by some men connected to Edward Jarvis, a major figure in several high profile circles. He was on trial for first degree murder and Larke was the prosecutor who convicted him. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy about it and has been trying to get even ever since. Desmond’s been the only thing preventing that from happening and some of us have been helping him along the way. We’d managed to keep it under wraps up until now.”