Shattered Pieces (Undercover Elite Book 1) (16 page)

Cash

“Damn, dude, she’s hot.” Hunter flicks the picture of Rhonda between his fingers before reluctantly handing it back to me.

“We don’t know if she’s alive or not. It’s just that I’m not convinced that the body Steven had cremated was hers.”

“I hope she is alive.” There’s a hint of desire in Hunter’s voice that doesn’t sound like his normal lust for a good-looking woman.

“You are such a man-whore, Hunter.”

He sheepishly smiles, “I just haven’t found the right woman yet.”

“I didn’t know you were looking.”

“I didn’t either until you showed me that picture and told me she could still be alive.”

“Look…”

“I am,” Hunter waggles his brows and snags the picture out of my hand so he can look at Rhonda… again.

“Give me the picture so you can focus your fucking ADD brain on business.”

He moves to hand me the picture but jerks it back to take one more look as he melodramatically places his hand over his heart. “Oh, be still my heart. If you’re alive, I swear on my
Undercover Elite
patch, I will rescue you, my fair lady.”

“Give me the fucking pic, dumbass. We’re not a biker’s club. We don’t have patches.”

“Maybe we should get some.”

His mind is already going in a different direction. “Fuckin’ ADD, just like I said. Focus, dude.”

“Okay, okay, you think she’s alive. So, we’ll do some Intel and find out. It’s simple.”

“Nothing in our line of work is ever simple,” I state. I have been at this job long enough to know that anything could happen.

“You go and dig up some information on that high dollar computer in that immaculately decorated office I set up for you and don’t come back until you have some good news.” He gets up and makes his way to the door, whistling as he walks. I get his attention again before he leaves. “Hunter, I don’t want to give Johnnie false hope.”

He turns and looks at me seriously. “Dude, I can assure you that I’m not going to do anything to hurt that girl. She’s part of the team now. She’s one of the guys, you know?”

“That’s what I like about you, Hunter. You know when to get serious and when to goof off. Now, go find me something to make my girl’s day.”

“I hope I can. I really hope I can.”

I watch as he walks out the door and I know that if anybody can find a chink in Steven Taggart’s armor, it’s Hunter. If that guy has fucked up any paperwork, Hunter will find it. He is the worst enemy a person can have in cyberspace. The guy has the ability to ruin a person’s life with just a few keystrokes. The funny thing about it is that he has never even been to school for computer science. Everything the guy knows has been self-taught. He is an invaluable part of the team and, as immature as he behaves sometimes, he is exactly the kind of man I want on my side. When I tease him about being ADD, it is the truth and he even uses that to his advantage. He doesn’t use medication for it and the guy’s mind is all over the place. It makes hiding from him online nigh on impossible. There is no stone left unturned when he gets behind a keyboard. It amazes me how the guy’s brain works. It would drive me crazy being all over the place in my thought processes. He has a filing system that only works for him. The information he has on people can’t be infiltrated because no one else can figure out how to find it. I quit trying to figure him out years ago.

Rhonda

I cringe as I hear him open the bedroom door. It’s like every time he comes into a room, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I don’t even need to see him to know he’s there. His voice cuts through the silence and immediately puts me on the defensive.

“I don’t want Talia outside for the next few days.”

“But she enjoys swimming outside so much.”

“She can use the indoor pool. It’s why we have it.”

I take a deep breath and set the brush I’d been using down on my make-up table. I brace myself, trying to muster up the courage I need. Steven is so volatile that I never know what might set him off.

“What’s going on, Steven? Who have you pissed off this time?”

“It’s business, dear. It has nothing to do with you.”

“It became my fucking business when you put my daughter’s life in jeopardy! Now, what’s going on, Steven?”

“
Your
daughter?
My
daughter would be a more appropriate term.”

“What have you done? Just tell me so I’m not caught off guard when some fucking crazy ass mobster comes in and kills you.”

“I don’t think it’s my death that needs to concern you. It would be very easy for you to fall victim to some accident. Hell, everyone already thinks you’re dead so it isn’t like I’d go to prison or anything.”

I look at the man threatening me and I know the first step to escaping the monster holding me captive needs to be letting someone I know that I’m not dead.

“Just keep her in the fucking house and quit being so melodramatic, Rhonda. I’m going to work.”

He walks out abruptly and I go to the window. I watch as he gets in the car with his chauffer behind the wheel, acting as both his driver and bodyguard.

I wish somebody would kill the bastard,
I think to myself as I boot up my computer. The problem with someone killing him is that I don’t want my daughter and I to get caught in the line of fire.

My fingers fly over the keys, doing a search on
Undercover Elite,
the name I found on my husband’s desk. I know if they have any kind of contact with my baby sister, then they’re friends of mine and enemies of my husband.

The site is set up to pitch
Undercover Elite
as something between a private investigator and a mercenary group. It shows pictures of six different men. There’s Cash, who has dark hair with striking black eyes and looks like he stepped off the cover of a high fashion men’s magazine. Hunter looks like a mischievous college frat boy with his tousled, dishwater blonde hair and blue eyes that glint like he’s always up to something. Thorn looks scruffy, but sexy as hell because he owns it. He has dark brown hair, a five o’ clock shadow, and a nose that looks like it was broken once upon a time but it just adds to his dangerous good looks. There’s a guy named Harley, who looks like a biker, a guy named Sniper that the site shows on a shooting range with a sniper’s rifle, and the last guy’s name is Axle. It’s evident they all go by nicknames. When I delve deeper and go to their personal profiles, it shows more about their credentials and backgrounds. One thing I notice is that they have all served in the military at some point in their lives.

Each profile shows the guys in a more personal light and it is easy to see how they all got their names, though they did reveal why in a small write-up. Cash is a blueblood, Hunter is known for being able to track anyone down, and Thorn is known for being the kind of man who just tells it like it is. ‘Prickly’ is the word used to describe him. Harley, well, he is known for riding a Harley and has a lot of biker connections. Axle is a car buff. He restores cars and has a reputation for being able to take them apart and put them back together again. Sniper was a sniper in the military and earned his nickname there.

The guys share a couple of common traits. They are all large and buff like they work out a lot, they are all good looking in their own way, and they all have the credentials to back up being able to work for an organization like
Undercover Elite
. I know enough to know that these guys are mercenaries. Their motto is,
When no one else wants the job, we dare to get the job done.

I can’t help but wonder how my sister met these guys. They are elite in every sense of the word. It’s clear they don’t let just anyone into their inner circle.

I click on the contact button before I can change my mind and write out an e-mail to Cash:

My name is Rhonda Bayne and I believe you have ties to my little sister, Johnnie Bayne.

My husband’s name is Steven Taggart and he is involved in organized crime. He faked my death four years ago and I am now being held against my will, along with my four year old daughter.

I believe our lives are in danger. My husband lost a large amount of drugs he was transporting for the Colombian Cartel. They have given him three days to come up with their money or they are going to take matters into their own hands. I fear my daughter and I getting caught in the crossfire.

I leave the address to where I’m being held against my will and hit send before I can change my mind. I then grab the burner phone in my office drawer and call the number listed to leave the same message. Now, all I can do is wait. This guy, Cash, will do one of two things: help me, or write me off as a crazy person…

Cash

I sit and twirl a pen between my fingers as I listen to what the nurse on duty has to say about Rhonda’s case.

“I never trusted that guy. Call it female intuition, or whatever you want, but there was more to that girl’s death than suicide.”

I know when to just listen. I don’t want to goad her into telling me what I want to hear so I continue listening, mostly silent but asking questions intermittently when appropriate. I want to be able to tell the woman I love that her sister is alive but I need proof. It’s a matter of asking the right questions.

“What do you mean? What did you feel uneasy about?” I ask her.

“Well, he never would, or I should say, could give valid proof of the dead woman’s identity. I even went so far as to get a DNA sample and send it off to a cop I was dating but they can’t really identify someone who isn’t already in their system.”

“Did you ever come right out and ask Steven?”

“Anytime I asked for any kind of verification, he avoided the question with responses like, ‘I think I know who my wife is’ or ‘I, of all people, would know her identity.’ He had this way of talking down to you to make you shut up. It’s like he would purposely embarrass you and make you feel like you were crazy for even thinking it, much less having the audacity to ask. I recognize it because doctors do it to us all the time. It’s their way of maintaining control and protecting their egos. That’s another thing… that guy was egotistical. I never did like him and I most certainly didn’t trust him. She died the next day and he had the body cremated. I came into work and the woman was gone. After that, I was forced to just let it go and hope my gut feeling was wrong.”

I leave my name and number with the nurse and thank the woman for her help. She’s confirming what I believe to be true but I still have no proof.

I open up the browser to check my e-mails but feel my phone vibrate at the same time so I grab it first. It’s a voicemail and the message I hear shocks me. It may be the proof I’ve been waiting for. If Johnnie recognizes the voice on the other end of that line, then I will have everything I need to go and rescue her sister.

Now there’s a sense of urgency to this case—a four year old little girl urgency. I can’t help but also feel a slight panic at the thought of putting Johnnie in a situation where she might revert deeper into herself. I’m walking a tightrope right now and I’m feeling it even more so than usual because my own emotions are involved. I breathe in deeply to prepare myself and reach over to push the button on the intercom, calling her into my office. This is something I have to do. I will never forgive myself if I knew I had the chance to rescue them and I didn’t do everything in my power to see them safe. Johnnie won’t forgive me either. After all I have been through to get her, there is no way in hell I am going to let a situation like this build resentment between us. If I can’t save Johnnie’s sister, I stand a chance of losing her. There is no way I am going to allow that to happen after all I have been through to ease my way into her life.

Johnnie isn’t the typical woman. I know I’m dealing with deeper issues when it comes to her. I’m walking a fine line, a razor’s edge I’m willing to walk for her and only her. It’s the first time in my life that I’m willingly going through issues with a woman. Before her, I would have considered the RAD unnecessary drama that I didn’t have time for. It’s odd because when it comes to her, it isn’t an inconvenience or a hassle. It’s just a mere bump in the road that I am more than willing to navigate.