Oxblood (15 page)

Ian half smiled and sighed. His eyes found the ground and he shifted in his seat.

“What is it? Did I get weird and make you uncomfortable? I made it weird, didn't I?”

“I have to tell you something,” he said, pausing. “I knew about the journal.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn't know how he was chronicling it, but I knew he was keeping track of his findings in the journal.”

“What?” I barked, standing up. Blood began to boil inside me. I immediately felt like we had wasted time. When we could have been looking for Gil, Ian and I were poring over information in the journal he already had.

“Why didn't you just tell me? Why did you make me go through all of that?” I began to pace. I tried to stay calm, but I knew I was making a scene.

“Gil sent you the journal for a reason. There had to be something in there, some ace up his sleeve that he'd been holding on to for whatever reason. You were the key to finding it, but—”

“But what?”

“But, so far, I already knew everything that we've found.”

“You put me through all of that for nothing. When you realized there was no new information in there, you could have said something. You could have been honest with me, but you weren't. You asked me to trust you and I did, but now I see that was a huge mistake!”

Ian took me by my shoulders, locking his serious eyes on mine. “You're drawing attention to us. Now, either you need to slap me across the face like we're having a lover's quarrel, or we need to take this inside.”

Going back to the apartment was not an option, and my fury was just ripe enough to accept his invitation.

Without hesitation, I lifted my right hand and let it fly.

Chapter 14

Ian's head popped to the side, his eyes shut tight. He paused before lifting his head, which I thought was just for effect since I had been present for a bloodier brawl than this. He rubbed his palm over the cherry-red mark on his cheek and stared at me. I was about to let off another round of fury when Ian grabbed my shoulders again and pressed his lips against mine.

His kiss was hard and rough, like he was proving a point. Then he dropped his arms from my shoulders and wrapped them around my waist, pulling me closer to him. His kiss became soft and tender. He moved one hand to my face and then behind my neck.

I kissed him back, hard, then soft, too. I ran my fingers through his hair and gripped his shoulders. My body was humming with energy, responding to every point where his body touched mine. It was electrifying. It was everything I knew it would be, and more.

When Ian pulled away, we stood there in each other's arms the way lovers do after a make-up kiss: dazed, goofy, fired up. We smiled like we were different people. People who weren't being chased by a deadly Rogue agent. People who would not be forced to say good-bye soon.

It didn't last long. Reality set in, and we let each other go.

“So,” I said, bringing us back to the issue that catapulted us into that life-changing kiss. “You've known about everything in the journal?”

“Yes. I told you Gil had been reporting to me. He told me he was keeping everything meticulously documented. The journal entries aren't what I imagined, but it contains everything he had already disclosed to me.”

“I feel like such an idiot.”

“Don't. Like I said, Gil sent you the journal for a reason. There's got to be something in there that he knew only you could decipher.” Ian took my hand and brought me to sit down on his lap. “We need to look like a couple who just made up. Italians are known for how passionate they can be. This scene is quite normal to them.”

I couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, but I had no problem playing along. Being near him was addictive. Just the thought of letting his hand go was like a punch in the stomach. “Okay.” He wrapped his arms around my body, and I rested my head against his.

“By the way, thank you for not slapping me again,” Ian said.

“Day's not over yet.” I smirked.

“Honestly, Victoria, I've really been waiting for you to come up with some insight that Gil didn't give me.”

“I understand that, Ian. So what do we do in the meantime?”

“Damon is going to put out some feelers with his contacts, and hopefully we'll hear from a local or two about any out-of-the-ordinary activity in town,” Ian answered.

“Won't Bianca and her people be following us?” I asked nervously.

“There are fifty safe houses in Italy. It'll take them a while to locate this one. Claudia also increased the sensitivity on the security system and is constantly monitoring it for any irregularities.” Ian threaded his fingers through mine as we continued to put on a “show.”

I sighed and turned my thoughts back to the journal and reading about Gil and Maria's sad story at the end.

“What's wrong?” Ian asked.

“I was just thinking about how difficult it must have been for Gil to have seen something so similar to his own story go down.” I wondered what the connection was between the Italian mob and Gil's story about Maria.

“I know we're pretending to be a couple, but I really can't read your mind,” he laughed.

I echoed his laughter to keep up the facade. “The story about the girl at the end of the journal. It had to have been awful to watch someone else go through that tragedy.”

Ian's face turned serious. “What are you talking about?”

“You said you knew about everything in the journal,” I stammered, my face puzzled.

“I said I knew everything so far.” Ian stood, taking me with him. “But we haven't covered that story yet.”

“Oh my God!” I covered my mouth as Ian and I both realized that Gil wanted me to share Maria's story. Ian took my hand, and we hurried back to the apartment while I told him everything I knew about Gil and Maria. “And just when he was already heartbroken enough from not hearing from her, we turned the TV on one night to find out she had been murdered, found dead in a brothel.”

“So she tells Gil that her family is being deported, he doesn't hear from her for months, and then she shows up dead?”

“Yeah.”

“Where are her parents?”

“Don't know. Gil never heard back from any of them when he tried to get in touch with her,” I told him. “What's the connection here?”

We stopped in the middle of the stairwell up to the apartment, and Ian lowered his voice. The space was dimly lit and musty. “Do you remember when I told you how parts of some mob families were venturing into more dangerous territory?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember me saying that Paolo was photographed at an all-girls school just before three of them disappeared?”

I nodded.

“What I didn't tell you is that wherever he goes, there ends up being an increase in missing persons reports. The authorities have written off those last three girls as runaways. But there has also been a spike of children under the age of ten who have gone missing.” Ian sighed. “I think they're kidnapping and selling these kids. The teens are most definitely being trafficked in the sex trade. The younger ones could be as well, but may be shipped off to sweatshops. If they're lucky, they're being sold in illegal adoptions.”

“Oh my God, Ian. And you think Paolo is behind it?” I asked, matching his hushed tone.

“Remember, Paolo's just an errand boy. I want his boss,” Ian answered.

“Okay. I'll grab the journal, and you open your database of bad guys. This is it, Ian. Gil found Paolo's boss. All we have to do is connect the dots.” I started back up the stairs, but Ian grabbed my arm to stop me.

“You can't tell anyone about this,” he warned.

“Why not? This is big and we need the whole team involved,” I argued, confused.

“I've been tracking this on my own.”

“Okay,” I said, unsure of what that meant.

“I've been tracking it on my own because I've been forbidden to deal with cases involving children.”

“Why on earth would you be forbidden to do something like that?” It was a strange rule for someone who was charged with keeping the world safe.

“It's a long story, and I promise to tell you. I just need you to trust me.” He took my hand in his and brought it to his chest. “Can you do that?”

I looked into Ian's eyes and saw pain. Pain that made him so willing to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves. How could I not trust a man who's willing to risk his career for such a noble cause?

“Of course,” I answered.

I looked at the door and saw shadows moving across the crack in the bottom. Someone was definitely standing on the other side, listening. I had an idea of who it might be.

I gestured with my head. “Feet,” I whispered to Ian.

Ian nodded, then unlocked the door with his cell phone and let us in.

I charged through, ready to put on an act. “Geez, Ian! I just wanted some fresh air!” I said.

There he was. Carter. Standing just to the side. He gave me the evil eye, which I happily returned.

“You don't leave this place without my permission,” Ian countered, walking in behind me. “Do you understand me? Someone is trying to kill us, so I'd prefer not to risk my neck running after your impetuous ass because you
need some air
!”

“Fine!” I returned. “Then let's just get through the rest of the journal. Hopefully we'll be closer to finding Gil and then I'll be out of your hair!”

I stormed into the back bedroom and waited behind the open door, listening for any comments from the others.

“Don't be so hard on her, Ian,” said Adam. “She may be a badass and pick it up quick, but she's not a real agent.”

“He's right,” I heard Claudia say. “She's overwhelmed. Give her some room to breathe.”

I smiled. I was right about being able to trust Adam and Claudia.

“Cut her loose,” Carter said harshly. “She's unpredictable and she's going to get someone killed.”

That guy, I didn't trust.

“Are you hiding?” Damon appeared from the bathroom.

I was so startled I jumped. “No! Not hiding. Just waiting for Ian,” I told him.

“Ah, I see. You two, you should play nice. Ian, he's a nice guy,” Damon said sweetly.

“Right.” I said with a nod.

Ian came through the door. “I need the room,” he said to Damon. He still had his pissed-off face on.

Damon winked at me and I gave him a small smile as he left. I liked Damon. He seemed to always know how to put me at ease.

“Well done with the theatrics. You get an A-plus on your acting skills.”

“Who said I was acting?” I smirked.

In a flash, Ian had pulled the journal from his backpack and flipped to the last few pages. He read it over twice before handing it back to me. I scanned the words again, seeing a part of the story I hadn't noticed the first time I read it. According to the girl's parents, a family friend had offered to let her stay with him, but she declined, saying that she didn't trust him. I wonder who that could be?

“Okay. Now tell me what you know about their relationship before Maria was supposedly deported,” Ian instructed.

“Okay.” I didn't know where to start so I went back as far as I could remember. “Gil and Maria met in school, at University of Miami. Gil was a senior and Maria was a junior. They struck up a conversation in the library one day, and after that they were always together.”

“How well did you know her?”

“I knew her okay, I guess. He brought her around some, but I wasn't very social back then. I was still pretty reclusive after my parents' deaths. Anyway, what I knew of her was good. She cooked for us sometimes.”

“Did anything strange or unusual happen while they were dating, before she was supposedly deported?”

“If there was, Gil never told me. Everything always seemed pretty normal,” I told him.

“How long after she supposedly left the country did you find out she was dead?” Ian asked, getting straight to the point.

“I guess it was about three or four months after she left when we saw the report about the brothel being busted in the worst part of Miami. The reporter said that an unidentified girl had been found dead in the building and then they flashed an artist's drawing of her on the screen asking if anyone recognized her. We knew immediately that it was Maria. Gil went down to the morgue hoping to see her family; he figured if she was still in Miami, her parents might be, too. But no one came. He had to identify the body. The worst part was that the medical examiner said she had been dead for almost two days before they found her. They just left her in some room while they went on with their business.” I fought back tears as I remembered the night I held my brother while he mourned Maria. He was broken inside. Another person he loved had died, and all I could do was be there for him and let him cry.

“I'm sorry, Victoria. I know this is difficult for you to talk about,” Ian said softly.

“Thanks.” I took a breath and shoved down the lump that was forming in my throat. “After that, he threw himself into school. That's when he started his journals. He's just as intense about his research now as he was when he started. Maybe even more. He was convinced that Maria had been forced into working at that place. He believed her parents had been deported but that she was kept behind. Nothing could persuade him that she had been leading a double life.”

“And what about this person who supposedly offered her a place to stay?” Ian asked.

“That's news to me—so it must be specific to whatever's going on here. There'd be no way for Gil to have known if that happened to Maria.”

“Then it sounds like he's trying to tell us that someone we know is untrustworthy.” Ian furrowed his brow as he thought. “Of course! It's Bianca!”

“It's a shame we didn't realize that
before
we were ambushed—twice,” I said.

Ian closed his eyes as he processed everything. I could tell he was debating with himself about whether he was going to let me in on his inner monologue or not. Finally, he turned back to face me.

“What is it?” I pried.

“How was Maria murdered?” he asked slowly.

I would never forget the night Gil came home from identifying her body. It was so late when he got back that the sun was close to rising. I stayed on the couch all night waiting for him to walk through the door. He came in like a zombie, feet shuffling, dark rings under his eyes. I made us a whole pot of coffee, the good stuff we saved for Sunday mornings. We sat silently sipping at the kitchen table until Gil was ready to speak. That's when he told me that Maria's family never showed up and exactly how she died.

“Oh my God, Ian,” I began. My heart was pounding inside my chest and it became harder to breathe. “He said she had been shot. Two in the back of her head.”

“It's okay, Victoria. It's going to be okay.” Ian sat next to me on the bed and rubbed my back while I put my head between my knees and tried not to hyperventilate.

“I can't believe this is what Gil got himself into.” I sat up and took a deep breath, tears streaming down my face.

“It's obvious he went looking for the trafficking ring that killed Maria. And I think he found it but didn't know what to do once he did. I think they wanted him to forge documents to get these kids out of the country.”

“No,” I said, not wanting to believe it. “As heartbroken as he was about Maria, I can't believe he'd leave me on a quest for vengeance.”

Ian shrugged. “Vengeance is powerful. And dangerous. Maybe Gil believed he could do just enough, forge the documents just well enough that no one here would know the difference. But once the kid got to the other country, immigration would spot the forgery and step in.”