Chapter Six
“Did Torto’s necropsy and blood work lead to anything?” Camila asked Jaeger as the elevator to his floor stopped and the doors opened with a bing.
Jaeger motioned for her to walk, then paced alongside her. Damn it. The past two days hadn’t taken them anywhere. Tony hadn’t found anything on Jeffrey’s cell phone, and the lack of clues bothered Jaeger. “They used antifreeze, which is very common and doesn’t give us any leads as to where he bought it. He mixed it in some wet food to make it taste better, but that’s also available in any pet store,” he said, jamming his hand into his jeans to retrieve the key.
She slowed her pace, as if thinking about his answer. “So whoever did this had the trouble to buy the antifreeze and shop at a pet store before heading to my apartment. Sounds so calculated.”
He touched his keys. “This also means they knew about your dog and your schedule. Someone wants you out, and he’s still trying to scare you away. If he wanted to hurt you, he would have waited for you to return from the hospital.” She had suggested she’d return to her apartment, but he still worried she’d be an easier target there. He’d insisted she stay with him; after all, her protection was why she’d hired him. A voice inside him laughed, and he shook his head. Maybe having her close meant self-inflicted pain, as he kept her within an arm’s reach yet didn’t touch her.
“And what happens if I don’t leave? If I stay? What else can they do next?”
He was about to slide the key in the door knob, when he glanced down. His doormat had shifted slightly to the right. His jaw clenched. Maybe someone else wouldn’t have noticed the subtle change, but Jaeger knew too well he kept a thick rubber mat under the rug to keep it from sliding.
He reached for his holster and gestured for her to step back. “Stay here.”
Someone had entered his place, possibly a man. A large man, one who didn’t seem careful either. Possibly someone with nothing to lose.
“What is it?” she asked behind him.
“Wait for me.”
He caught a glimpse of apprehension in her eyes. Holding the gun, he slid the key into the slot and turned it quietly. Pork Chop barked, an urgent, clipped sound, different from the happy yapping whenever he’d come home.
Jaeger scanned the hallway as he paced into the living area. Nothing.
A swoosh from his office got his attention, and he raced there.
An average-built man wearing a black ski mask typed violently on the keyboard of his laptop, no doubt trying to break into his secure network.
“Stop!” he shouted. “Hands in the air.”
The man looked at him and slowly lifted his hands.
“Who sent you?”
He erased the distance between them and frisked the man’s shoulders, pockets, and ankles to ensure he didn’t hide a weapon. Jaeger grabbed a knife from his ankle and tossed it away. “What were you looking for?”
“Take it easy, man,” the guy finally said, with a strong Jersey accent. “I’ll tell you everything.”
“No,” said a raspy male voice from across the room. “You’re not telling him anything.”
Jaeger turned his face to find a large, bald man wearing a uniform for a plumbing company holding Camila with a gun to her head. Her eyes widened, and she tried to wiggle out of his hold, but the man easily kept her in place. “Leave her alone.”
“Put your hand down, then toss it over. Quick.”
Jaeger’s blood chilled. Damn it. He did as asked and placed the automatic on the ground. The guy in front of him grabbed the gun and pointed it at him. “I’m leaving first and you aren’t following me. Do you understand? Otherwise she dies,” he said, pointing the gun in her direction to prove a point.
Jaeger nodded. Taking his gun, the guy hopped out on the fire escape and disappeared out of sight.
“Stay there,” the other guy said. “On your knees.”
Jaeger kneeled, sizing up his opponent. He gazed at Camila, hoping his eyes carried a message of tranquility. Everything will be okay. He watched the bob working its way down her throat, and her big, brown eyes searched for his. She trusted him, and he couldn’t, wouldn’t, falter.
Distraction. He’d distract the enemy before launching onto him and punching his guts out.
“What are you looking for?” Jaeger asked. “If you tell me what you want or who you’re working for, we can work something out.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, twitching his dark eyes. “Try something funny and she dies.”
The man walked up to the large window leading to the stairs, the same direction the other guy had taken. Maybe he’d take her with him downstairs then leave her and run. Or maybe he’d just…take her with him. Jaeger’s heart pounded. No way in hell he’d let that happen.
Camila stilled, and the guy lowered his gun to her neck. All Jaeger needed was a window of opportunity to leap.
“This building has security cameras. If you tell me what brought you here, I’ll help you out. No one gets hurt,” Jaeger said. “Not even you.”
“Not interested,” he said, but he lowered the gun to her side, though he kept holding her.
“Camila. To your right!” Jaeger shouted. The guy looked as well, and Jaeger launched onto him and slammed him against the wall. He punched the guy’s stomach, trying to get him to drop his gun. But the criminal used the gun to clock him; a sharp pain spread across his cheek. Jaeger kicked him.
“Jaeger!” Camila hollered, throwing a paperweight at the bastard. The guy ducked and landed another hit to Jaeger’s face. Jaeger’s cheek heated, the pain throbbing. He groaned and clenched the invader’s hand, focused on getting the gun.
What if something happened and he didn’t save her? What if—
Pain pierced his stomach. The criminal began to slide a knife into him. Jaeger tumbled back, and the guy pointed the gun at him. “One move and you die.”
Jaeger drew in a breath, and pain stabbed at him. He touched his wound, blood soaking his hand. He heard Camila step toward him, and the criminal again shouting for them to stay put. His vision blurred for a moment, and the guy jumped onto the emergency stairs.
“Jaeger. You okay? We need to take you to a hospital.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Call Omar and tell him to come over. He knows a doctor that makes house calls. I just need a few stitches.”
She shook her head, skeptical. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He groaned.
Camila searched for his first-aid stuff while calling Omar, and by the time Omar showed up with a doctor in tow—thirty minutes later—she had already helped him clean his abdomen and applied a clean cloth to stop the bleeding.
Dr. Watters once again showed he was worth every penny of his efficient and overcharged home visits. “You’re lucky this isn’t a deep wound, Jaeger,” Dr. Watters said, after he had sutured the wound and prescribed painkillers Jaeger probably wouldn’t take.
“Thank you,” Jaeger said.
While Watters fumbled with the bandage, Jaeger rolled his eyes. Camila had stayed with him in the room even though he had told her it wasn’t necessary. Jaeger hated her seeing him so vulnerable and preferred not to make eye contact.
“Next time you may not be so lucky,” Watters said when he finished. “Take care of yourself.” Omar, who had also been in the room, tore his gaze from the computer screen and walked the doctor out.
“Did you tell Lee about my place?”
Camila drew back. “He knows I’m not at my apartment. He’s the closest thing to a family I have in New York.” She paced around the living room. “What are you saying? Are you still considering him a suspect?”
Jaeger tried to stand from the sofa, but an ache moved through him. Hell. Maybe he’d need those painkillers after all. “Those men weren’t here because they wanted you, Camila. They searched for things in my files. They want to know who I suspect.”
“Lee doesn’t have a reason to want me out of the country.”
“Leave the possible motives to me.”
Omar returned and gave them a look. “What can I do, Boss?”
Jaeger grabbed his cell phone. “I’m going to call building security to ask for access. If we send Tony the tapes, he’ll ID the suspects and get us names. It’ll make it easier to go after them. They can lead us to whoever is behind all this.”
Omar nodded. “Sounds good.”
“God. This is crazy,” Camila said, rubbing her temples. “I never saw any of those guys before. Well, the one without a mask for sure.” Those two crooks had been nothing more than thugs hired by whoever wished to harm her. Wished her gone. But exactly who did she know who had a lot to lose from her simple existence?
…
“You really shouldn’t be here,” Jaeger said when he parked his car in the lot of an apartment building in Marine Park, Brooklyn.
Camila sucked in a breath. Forty minutes earlier, she’d been with Jaeger when Tony had IDed one of the suspects as Sean O’Brien, a petty criminal who had done quick stints in county jails but nothing serious. “Of course, I should be there, too. If he doesn’t admit to it, I can try to trick him with questions. I took criminal psychology classes before.”
Jaeger glanced at her, and if he had anything snarky to say, he kept it to himself.
She opened the door before he could do it for her and squared her shoulders, wanting to project the confidence she surely didn’t feel.
Fear released a sour sensation into her stomach. Striding alongside him almost made her believe she was safe. Sure, Jaeger was a large, muscly guy, but, hell, those two criminals had broken into his place. Why did the threats get worse each time? From letters, to animal murder, to having a gun to her head.
“Camila,” he said, cocking his head to the side, gesturing for her to go up the staircase leading to the second floor. The complex had dozens of red-bricked units.
They marched up in tandem, and soon he knocked on the door where Sean was supposed to live.
After three knocks, a woman with short, curly red hair opened the door. “What?” she asked, sizing them up.
“We’re here to talk to Sean,” Jaeger said and without delay entered the apartment. He acted swiftly, probably because if the red-haired lady shouted, Sean would be able to find a gun or escape. “Sean O’Brien?” Jaeger shouted, searching the place.
“Hey. He’s not here. And who are you anyway? Does he owe you money?” the woman asked, hands perched at her waist, following Jaeger around.
“He owes us an explanation. He broke into my friend’s place earlier today,” Camila said.
“Boo.” The woman just then looked at her, eyes rolling. “Why is that my problem?”
“This is his home address according to his driver’s license records,” Camila said.
Jaeger ignored the woman’s protests and checked the two rooms and bathroom. Camila searched for any clue that he could live here—but found no pictures of him on the several frames crowding the walls, and no manly items or shoes next to the ones at the entrance.
“He isn’t here,” she said. “We broke up ten months ago. He drops in every so often for child support.”
“Child support?” Camila repeated and just then noticed a playpen on the corner.
“Yeah. He’s the father of my three-year-old. He’s in daycare now.”
Jaeger returned to them, frowning. “He’s not here.”
“That’s what I just said,” the woman said, shaking her head.
Camila folded her arms. Of course, they didn’t expect Sean’s ex to help them. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“He dropped by a few nights ago and gave me the cash he’d been promising me for a while.”
“How much?” Jaeger asked.
“Listen, jackass, it wasn’t your money if he broke into your place today, and he visited me before,” she said.
“Do you know if he received money recently from someone called Lee Gibson?” Jaeger asked.
Camila let out a sigh. Really? Out of everyone she knew, Lee would never put her in danger. But, for some reason, Jaeger wasn’t convinced. She had to let him do his job and investigate, so she stayed silent and watched the woman’s face to see if her expression shifted.
“No,” she said with a blank stare.
Jaeger continued to ask her key questions. Why would she tell them anything? Even if she didn’t have the best relationship with Sean, he was still the father of her child, and if he got caught and ended up in jail, she’d no longer receive any financial help from him.
Maybe Jaeger realized it as well, for soon he was giving her his card, and she showed them out then slammed the door behind them.
“Do you think she’ll call us if he comes back?” Camila asked.
“Nope.” Jaeger’s gaze darted between her and the apartment across from the one they just left. “We know Sean received money recently, which cements my theory he was working for someone when he broke into my place with the other dude. Someone who’s obviously new at this; otherwise, they wouldn’t have paid him in the beginning.” He knocked on the door of the unit he’d been eyeing.
A man with shoulder-length hair in his twenties opened the door. His eyes seemed glossy and his pupils were dilated, like he’d just gotten high. “Yeah?”
“Do you know Sean O’Brien, the guy who used to live there and sometimes visits?”
The man rubbed his eyes. “Are you a cop?”
Jaeger shook his head. “Far from it. I have a score to settle with him.”
He gave them a half smile. “Who doesn’t, these days? Name’s Jeb,” he said, offering his hand. “But I still don’t know what you want from me.”
Jaeger handed him his business card. “Jeb, here’s my contact information. Next time you see Sean around, shoot me a text or give me a call. If I show up here and he’s in the building, I’ll give you a thousand bucks.”
…
“If anyone asks, I’m your plus one,” Jaeger told her as they drove through the Hamptons. “It’ll be easier, and I can keep an eye on you at all times.”
Camila chewed on her lower lip. Plus one meant adding—how ironic considering the past couple weeks she’d felt as if so much has been taken from her. Her peace of mind. Her sense of security.
A nutcase is on the loose. Her stomach contracted, apprehension rolling into her core. No wonder she hadn’t eaten much lately. Her temples throbbed every time she remembered the two thugs at his place, looking for something. If they wanted her, though, they could have taken her. So what else did they want?
Soon they’d see her family and she’d have different problems altogether to deal with. “Remember, don’t mention anything to my family, even if they drill you,” she said for the sake of saying, probably repeating herself for the tenth time. She’d wrestled with attending the wedding or not, but at this point she didn’t want to allow her stalker to disrupt her life even further. And Jaeger had said a change of surroundings may help them.
She shifted in her seat, fidgeting with the seat belt. “Trust me, bringing a boyfriend home is no piece of cake. Besides, if you act like you’re not into me at all, they’ll know something is up.” God, would they. Addie, Bruno’s wife and one of her best friends, could smell a lie miles away. If she saw them side by side, with Jaeger’s stern and aloof posture, she’d suspect their scheme and question Camila at the first opportunity.
“Is there anything wrong with some restraint?”
You know all about restraint, don’t you? A shiver rolled down her spine. “I guess not.” She shrugged it off. On the other hand, she bet he would be the kind of the guy who knew how to please a woman. The buffoons she dated pretended to care about her pleasure, but all they really wanted was to get off. She’d never really felt ravished, or cherished, in the bedroom.
For the rest of the drive, he didn’t say much. Camila played with her iPhone, checking email and text messages.
He parked the car on the gravel driveway of the stunning East Hampton house she’d visited once in the past. She peered at the entrance of the two-story property, contemplating the stone-floor porch as if for the first time.
“We’re here. Nice,” he said.
Nice? The place had a regal quality to it, and she felt the need to say more about its owner. Many times, the wealth of her family made Camila uneasy. Certainly, they all did what they could to leave a charitable imprint in the world, but a part of her was still that little girl walking home from school and wearing ratty shirts and old flip-flops. “Maybe you’ve heard of Erika Lancaster. Well, she’s about to become Mrs. Erika Duarte.”
“Silas Lancaster. I know who that is.”
She almost opened her mouth to ask if he knew because he’d vetted her family beforehand, or because he followed the news. Headlines about the case popped up when real estate developer giant Silas Lancaster had been arrested; he’d been responsible for the death of a Brazilian engineer who had tried to alert him about expired cement for a popular housing project. But Silas knowingly okayed the project, even though it resulted in deaths and homeless residents after a bad storm.
“Erika told us this was her summer home when she was a kid. Her mother loved the house, and her ashes were spread in the ocean. Erika thought this would be a good place to get married,” she said, wondering where she would get married if she ever met the right guy. She loved weddings.
“Is the wedding a big deal? Lots of guests? People coming in and out of the house?” he asked, taking off his seat belt and setting the tone. Jaeger wouldn’t care for her personal views on marriage and weddings.
“Nothing too extravagant. Most guests will be at a hotel, but the family will stay at the house,” she said.
He nodded, got out of the car, and rounded it, opening the door for her before she reached for the handle. “Are you ready?” He gave her his hand, and a sizzling sensation shot up her arm, bringing a delicious awareness to her whole being.
“Yep.” She plastered a smile on her face and lied through her teeth. The idea of Jaeger Bauer and her family under the same roof for three full days represented reality and fantasy colliding. No miraculous airbag in the world would save her from the imminent train wreck.
…
Jaeger ran his hand through his hair as they walked through the foyer. A friendly maid welcomed them, and while she offered to help with the bags, he readily picked up both their suitcases—his small and functional, and hers a lot heavier—and politely declined.
The maid led them to an impossibly large living area that blended with the kitchen and an open library. A floor-to-ceiling glass wall showcased the ocean not far from them, but what caught his eye was the exquisite cathedral ceiling matching the dramatic, yet classy, surroundings. He couldn’t shake the feeling Lee was involved, which was why he’d asked Tony to hack his cell phone bills to check if he had contacted Sean O’Brien.
“There you are. We should have done lunch in the city a couple of days ago when we returned, but everything was so rushed,” Erika said, walking up to them. He recognized the statuesque brunette from a picture.
Camila kissed her on both cheeks then gave her a hug. “It’s totally okay; it’s been insane for me, too. This is Jaeger. Jaeger, this is Erika.”
“Nice to meet you.” Jaeger stretched out his hand, giving hers a firm shake.
Erika exchanged a quick glance with Camila, then returned her attention to him. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Jaeger. I’m glad you could join us. And thank you for the generous donation.”
“What donation?” Camila asked.
Rather than extravagant gifts, Erika and Emanuel, Camila’s brother, had asked friends and family for donations to the charitable organization they both managed in Brazil. Jaeger knew Camila had probably sent some money beforehand, but the previous day he’d asked his assistant to make a donation in his name as well.
“I forgot to mention it.” He glanced at Camila, whose lips parted. She looked beautiful when she was vulnerable and in shock. His cock stirred and he wanted nothing more than to take advantage of those lips and capture them in a sensual, languid kiss.
“Aren’t you a man of many surprises,” Camila said.
“Those are the best ones,” Erika added. “Your suite is the last one to the left on the second floor if you want to leave your things and freshen up. We’re having cocktails on the deck at five.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
Jaeger gestured for Camila to lead the way and followed her. Deep down he wished he smoked or could blow off some steam. When he needed to, he’d channel his frustration with a kickboxing session, jogging, or calling one of the women on his contact list for drinks and no-strings sex. He’d acted like staying with her was no big deal because he’d hate for Camila to know how much she affected him. More and more he noticed the spark in her honest brown eyes whenever he cut her any slack.
When he opened the door, he inhaled deeply. A big, dark wood California king bed took center stage, the antique carving of the furniture contrasting against the soft pink on the walls, linens, and loveseat. Leather-bound books lined the built-in shelves, and ruffled lamps sat on each nightstand. The room was so undoubtedly romantic that he half expected the cast of Little Women to make a surprise appearance. His stomach contracted. This will be harder than I thought.
“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep there,” he said, pointing at the sofa. He’d need to shove aside the useless small pillows occupying it, but he’d worry much later when it’d be time to go to sleep. First, they had a cocktail affair to endure.
“Okay. Do you want to use the bathroom first?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nah. I have to check my email and see if my team sent me any updates.”
“Good.” She started to walk to the bathroom, then stopped in her tracks and tossed him a glance over her shoulders. She angled her head and flashed him a lopsided grin. “Thanks for coming.”
“Just doing my job.” His job didn’t include gawking at his client’s ass as she sauntered away from him, or fighting the erotic images forming in his head that involved said client.
Shaking his head again, he grabbed his cell and called Tony. “Do you have anything on Ralph Stewart?” he asked.
“He was arrested for battery four years ago, but his girlfriend at the time didn’t want to press charges. I hacked into his company’s security cameras. Found out he worked every day that the letters were mailed from New Jersey.”
“He could have paid someone to do it. How about when the dog was killed?”
“He was out of his office in meetings.”
Shit. “Within the same time frame?”
“Yes. I couldn’t access his assistant’s calendar because she’s old school and prefers to write his meetings on paper apparently. I’m going in the office today during lunch to look at her planner.”
“Good.” If he knew one person capable of blending in naturally and coming up with great disguises, Tony fit the bill. “How about Lee’s phone bill?”
“I found nothing. If he bought an untraceable phone or prepaid, he used cash, because I also checked his credit card bills.”
“Okay. Keep me informed. Thanks.”
He decided to chill on the balcony and hoped the breeze and the sound of waves slapping the shore would provide him some much-needed tranquility.
He sat on the bench chair and closed his eyes. His fingers drummed on his legs. When had been the last time he’d totally let go of worries and relaxed completely? Ever since losing Ellen and Trevor, he’d worked obsessively as a survival mechanism. This thing with Camila was…work. But the beach surroundings and the family setting made him almost forget she was his client.
What if I forget for one night?
What a stupid and dangerous idea. Was a screw worth all the trouble? Besides, she probably wouldn’t like the way he preferred sex. He hoped she wouldn’t. Because if she did enjoy it…he’d be completely lost.