THE FIRST SIN (7 page)

I wanted to collapse with relief. I hadn’t been released from RED. Yeah, I’d screwed up, but she wasn’t going to let me go.

A buzzing sound made me jump.

“Is it Agent Donovan, Darlene?” Oxford said to the air. I wasn’t really sure where the microphone was. “If it is, send him in.”

Not two seconds and a pink-faced, obviously flustered Darlene showed in one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever seen. No wonder Darlene looked so flustered. Just his vivid blue eyes were enough to make a woman’s mouth water. A black overshirt over a black T-shirt couldn’t disguise what was obviously a fit, muscular body. Snug blue jeans only emphasized the fact.

Well, well, well.

Look at those broad shoulders, a well-defined chest beneath his T-shirt, and sculpted, muscular biceps. Thank God for short-sleeved shirts because those biceps were made to be seen. He wasn’t body-builder big, but it was obvious he had a kind of power no mortal could match. Bet he was Superman in bed.

His tapered hips, and snug Levis over muscular thighs completed the picture of a woman’s wet dream.

He was rough around the edges with an unapproachable look to him, but it didn’t disguise the fact that he was one hot male.

Oxford gestured toward the big hunk of a man now standing next to me.

“Special Agent Nick Donovan is new to RED and has been assigned to double-team your operation. He’ll work the op with you as a Team Supervisor until we complete Operation Cinderella. He will also be your partner when you go in undercover in the BDSM clubs.” I had been standing there staring in shock, mouth hanging open when Oxford’s words finally penetrated. “What?”

I shook my head, feeling like I needed to wake up. “I mean, hold on. I’ve put this case together from the beginning. George Perry is going into the private clubs with me.”

From the corner of my eye I saw Donovan’s expression darken, but he remained silent.

My ASAC stood and braced her palms on her desk. “Steele, you will work with Agent Donovan and that is my final word on the subject.”

March 28

Thursday afternoon

I left Oxford’s office, still not sure what had hit me. What the hell just happened? Why would Oxford stick me with another agent? TSs put together their operations using their team members, but it was rare to have two RED

TSs head the same op. Why now and why me? Was it because of my bat versus truck adventure?

No, this seemed like it had been arranged already. As soon as I took care of a few things, I would get an appointment with Oxford and discuss this little Agent Tall-Dark-and-No-Way problem. Yeah, he looked like an asset to the team, but double-teaming me as a TS for my op? I don’t think so.

Donovan walked by my side as I went to my Team Center. He was silent, and when I glanced up I saw him looking at me with an intense expression, like he was analyzing me. Screw his analysis.

“Chavez.” I motioned to Isabella Chavez, indicating I wanted to see her.

She set down her comm and headed toward me. She glanced at Donovan, but I wasn’t in the mood for introductions.

“I want you to take over Randolph’s cover and be Deseronto’s partner.” I met her dark eyes. She was model gorgeous and one of my best agents. “You good with that?” “Absolutely,” she said with no hesitation and pure professionalism.

“Give me a moment and I’ll brief you in my office,” I said. Since it didn’t look like Donovan was going away, I might as well introduce him to the team.

“Listen up,” I said, loud enough to catch most of the agents’ attention until they were all quiet. “This is Special Agent Nick Donovan. He’s been assigned to our team. Donovan is new to RED so give him as much hell as possible.”

Some of the agents laughed. Donovan didn’t. Donovan and Chavez followed me as I headed out of the CC and up the stairs. “Randolph and Deseronto penetrated a couple of BDSM clubs with ties to the group we’re targeting.”

When we reached my office, I motioned to the chairs in front of my desk.

Chavez sat. Donovan hitched his shoulder up against the door frame and studied me with those intense blue eyes, still saying nothing. If I was the type to be easily rattled, that look would have done the job. “I haven’t had a chance to review the intel reports this morning.” I focused on Chavez. “As soon as I do I’ll have you completely briefed before we put you out in the field.

Isabella, you’ll be penetrating a BDSM club that Deseronto’s in. Are you up on the scene?”

She nodded. “I know what to expect.”

“Excellent. I’ll let you know when I have the latest intel for you.”

“Got it.” Chavez stood.

“I’ll be assigning more agents,” I said. “You and Deseronto won’t be alone.” I Chavez nodded again before she turned and strode through the door past Donovan.

Finally, my gaze met Donovan’s.

“We need to talk,” he said as he pushed away from the door frame.

“Yeah, we do.” I rubbed my temples. “But it’ll have to wait.”

March 28

Thursday evening

My jogging shoes squeaked on the concrete floor of RED’s almost empty parking garage. Smells of dirty oil and antifreeze certainly didn’t make the churning in my stomach any better.

Donovan and I didn’t speak as we walked from RED and neared a Ford Explorer black enough to seem to absorb most of the surrounding light. I wouldn’t exactly call it a comfortable silence.

Oxford had informed me that Donovan would be the agent to drop me off at my place. Like I had a choice. I glanced at the empty parking spot between my undercover vehicles. My black Jeep Cherokee was still parked in front of Gary’s triple-decker.

As much as I didn’t want to, I climbed into Donovan’s vehicle, which smelled of leather and the musky, spicy scent I’d noticed when I’d walked beside Donovan to the parking garage and in Oxford’s office.

Every part of me was exhausted to the point where I didn’t care if I dropped onto an oil slick.

The moment I relaxed against the seat, wind just whooshed right out of me as I heaved out a long breath. I had to fight my eyelids just to keep them open.

I realized Donovan wasn’t heading to Southie and I looked at him. “Uh, I live in South Boston,” I said as we headed toward Little Italy, in the North End.

“We’re not going to your home,” he said without looking at me.

“What the hell?” I came fully awake as he reached the parking garage at the corner of Congress Street and Sudbury Street, across from the Haymarket T

stop. “What are you pulling, Donovan?”

“I’m hungry.” He guided his Explorer into a spot and parked. “And we need to talk.”

“No way.” I glared at him as he started to open his door.

“You don’t just make decisions like that when it involves me.” He looked at me with a calm expression. “I just did,” he said before he climbed out of the SUV.

Well, sonofabitch. I got out of the Explorer and shut the door harder than I should have. When we met up at the back of the SUV, I narrowed my gaze at him. “So what’s the deal?”

“We’re going to an Italian place I just discovered on Salem.” He turned away and I jogged a little to keep up. “So you figured out Little Italy all on your own.” Okay, I know my tone was sarcastic, but I was tired and irritated at this man’s arrogance. He didn’t have an accent that I could identify, so I knew he wasn’t from Boston. He probably came from the western side of the United States. He looked at me. “Are you always such a pain in the ass?”

“When someone forces me to do something I don’t want to, yeah, I am.” I wasn’t in the mood to talk anymore, so I didn’t say anything else until we reached an Italian “restorante” and bar and were seated.

The aromas of Italian food almost made me melt. It smelled so good that my stomach started to rumble despite the fact that I was ticked at Donovan.

As soon as the host handed us menus and walked away, I set my menu aside, folded my arms on the table, and focused on Donovan. “All right. So talk.”

“We need to set some things straight. His eyes had gone from vivid blue to a darker shade. Cobalt. He kept his tone neutral, but by the way the muscles in his neck corded and his jaw tensed he was obviously feeling anything but neutral. “Let’s make this clear.” His gaze focused on mine and I refused to blink. “We’re partners, and from this point on it’s our op. Not yours. Ours.”

A busboy set glasses of ice water on the table and bread that smelled strongly of garlic, but I didn’t take my gaze from Donovan’s. “I built Operation Cinderella from the ground up.” The surface of the cloth-covered table was rough beneath my arms as I faced off with him. “I don’t have a problem with you as a partner. But I call the shots.”

“Bullshit.” Donovan let out a sound that was like a low rumble, and his jaw worked as if he was grinding his teeth. “I’m not playing second fiddle in this op.”

The waiter arrived and we could barely take our glares from one another long enough for Donovan to order a bottle of Chianti and grilled bruschetta for an appetizer. Right then I didn’t care that he had the audacity to order for both of us. I cared more about his attitude about Operation Cinderella.

I shifted my arms, rumpling the tablecloth. ‘Team Supervisors don’t work in pairs, and I don’t need your interference.” The waiter returned, presented the bottle of Chianti, and poured it into our glasses when Donovan gave his approval. Without looking at the menu or the waiter, Donovan said, “We’ll have the veal marsala.’”

Obviously the waiter sensed the fact that his presence wasn’t wanted. He bowed and hurried away. “Well?” My tone was entirely hostile.

“Kristin. My sister.” Donovan’s voice was suddenly coarse, raw. ‘The bastards took her. She was sold as a sex slave in that auction you’re tracking. To an international buyer or domestic, I don’t know.”

“Christ.” I stared at Donovan like I’d been slammed in the face.

There’s a reason why cops aren’t assigned to cases that they might be too close to. Emotions run too high and smarts and a clear head take a flying leap.

My stomach clenched at the thought of what he was going through. It wasn’t like I didn’t understand. I personally wanted to bring these bastards down for killing one of my own. But my relationship with Randolph wasn’t that of a sister or even my partner.

The fury was still hot inside of me, but my mind was clear on what needed to be done and it would stay clear. As a matter of fact the heat of my fury was rising inside of me even now, but not because of my dead agent. I wondered what the hell Oxford was thinking letting this guy even within ten feet of my operation.

I studied Donovan more sharply as my mind worked that question over.

Karen Oxford didn’t do anything without a reason. She was Machiavellian in her motives and goals, so she must be after something major here and killer boy Donovan was the key to getting it.

Yeah, I was interested in knowing what her reasons were.

It still didn’t change my opinion that a man on a mission with such personal stakes didn’t belong on an op he was this close to.

The tablecloth felt rough beneath my forearms as I leaned forward. “All right, we’ll get to your sister in a minute. First tell me why Oxford allowed you on a case involving a family member.”

Donovan’s blue eyes betrayed nothing when he said, “Oxford and I have an agreement.”

“That’s not enough.” I leaned back in my chair. “I need to know why she’s willing to take such a big risk.” He narrowed his gaze. “The only risk is to my sister if I don’t find her.”

“We’re talking about a local operation where dozens of women’s lives are on the line,” I said. “I understand the importance of you finding your sister, but as it stands I can’t accept that anyone with such a personal interest should be a part of this op.”

Donovan was silent for a long moment. “I have something she wants.

Experience she can’t get anywhere else.” I let what he said sink in for a moment. He hadn’t told me a whole lot, but it gave me something to go on, believe it or not. When she could, Oxford collected people with unique skills, so this guy was bringing something serious to the table. Which meant Oxford also wouldn’t let him go easily. So Nick Donovan was going to do RED some serious good. I sighed in resignation. After all, when had we ever done things the easy way? “All right. We’ll find your sister,” I said. “But let me make something very clear. I’ll do everything I can to protect this op and my agents. I won’t let allow anything to compromise either. Do we understand each other?” His expression was icy. He folded his arms across his chest.

“That’s fair.”

I nodded. This was all going from shit bad to shit worse. But I couldn’t only deal with what I had in front of me right now.

‘Tell me about your sister. When was she taken?”

“About two weeks ago.” Donovan’s voice was raw as he spoke. “Kristin was at a nightclub with some friends from college. A nightclub you’ve been monitoring—the Diamond Castle. Kristin’s friends saw her across the club with a man they didn’t know.”

Donovan glanced from my face to his hands as if he was suddenly lost.

“According to one of the girls, the man took Kristin out the back of the club.”

Donovan looked up, fire sparking in his blue eyes. “There wasn’t a sign of my sister inside or out of the building.” His throat worked. “She was gone.”

He shoved his hand through his dark hair, the movement terse, filled with anger. “The intel your agents gathered and the monitoring you did on that specific auction recorded the”—his voice went suddenly hoarse—“the entire transaction.” My body went numb.

“When they sold her,” Donovan continued, “the slave auctioneers videotaped her, naked. They gave her first name and recorded every bit of her body, right down to the birthmark at the base of her spine.”

I’d seen those vids. I’d seen all the women. I remembered her.

I’d seen Donovan’s sister being auctioned.

The cold in my body sent ice down my spine. “I came across the country the moment I was contacted and told she was missing.” Donovan’s voice was a growl, yet pain was there, too. “I don’t have much intel despite every bit of investigative work I’ve done beyond what you’ve accomplished.”