Chapter 5
Ace
"He's had to shoulder a lot of things being the head of the family," Senator Dyer says in explanation after Cora and William leave.
"It's my understanding that Cora is the oldest," I argue.
"Yes," Senator Dyer says to me before turning back to Kincaid. "It was great seeing you again."
Not many people know it, because it was kept out of the news, but Cerberus worked a quick rescue case for Senator Dyer's niece, who had gotten herself into some trouble down in Tijuana several decades ago, and that's the man's connection to the club.
We both shake the man's hand, staying quiet until he leaves.
"The brother," Kincaid says before I can get it out.
I nod. "Oh, there's definitely some animosity there."
"We'll need to follow all leads, but Max can handle a lot of that. If we run into an issue we can't handle—"
"You'll need to find a different source for information. I don't want the Agency knowing what I'm up to."
Kincaid narrows his eyes before speaking. "Something I should know about?"
I shake my head. "I think that young punk-ass kid they promoted instead of me is out to get me. "
"Because he suggested a vacation after years of not having one?"
I don't answer.
"Hasn't he been your supervisor for a while?"
"Are you checking up on me?" I ask, wondering if this was a bad idea in the first place.
"I notice signatures on the paperwork that slide across my desk, Ace," he explains. "Want to get back to this case or have you changed your mind?"
I pull in a deep breath.
"Sorry," I mutter. "Hazard of the job."
"Maybe you need a different job if the one you have makes you think everyone is out to get you. Maybe a place on a team you can trust is a better fit?"
He doesn’t press the issue, but I know it isn’t just a simple thought either.
"William Preston, Jr.," Kincaid says as he opens the file folder on the table. "Aspiring politician. No doubt the man was being groomed for greatness before his father's untimely death."
"There have been stranger cases than sibling rivalry," I add.
"Exactly," Kincaid agrees. "Like I was saying, I'll see what Max can dig up and if he doesn't find any skeletons, we can always make a call to Blackbridge."
"I'm still a federal agent," I remind him.
"Okay?"
"I don't think Wren Nelson does everything above board."
I've heard of the IT specialist who works for Deacon Black in St. Louis. His name has the ability to put fear in the hearts of many agents and a level of envy from other agency data techs, as if the man is a myth they can only hope is real.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there. "
"We have to cross the bridges without ICE's help, and that means we have to be careful," I remind him. "I wanted to take an extra job not land myself in federal prison."
"We're looking for a missing girl," Kincaid says. "We're not trying to take down a drug cartel in the middle of Times Square. So what do you say?"
"Family feuds aren't really my thing," I mutter. "What are the chances we end up finding her under an alias in some forced drug treatment or hell, in an insane asylum after a lobotomy?"
Kincaid huffs. "That would definitely make the case a little easier, but let's still work the other angle. I'm curious to know what her connection to that brothel is."
"Go over that part with me again?"
This information was something we were going to discuss before Senator Dyer showed up. Kincaid had just gotten the notification before the meeting started.
"We really don't have much to go on other than an incoming phone call two weeks ago from another senator's son who then was pinged at the house."
"But the call came after she stopped communicating? After the credit card was no longer being used?"
"But her last ping was only a few blocks from there. Let me show you the map."
We spend the next hour going over the very limited information we have, both of us coming to the conclusion that with as hard as it is to just disappear in this day and age, there's definitely something suspicious going on.
When Kincaid drops me back off at the house I'm supposed to be moving out of because I'm no longer a field agent supervisor, at least for the next month, I get in my car. I've already moved every personal belonging out of the house, leaving it spotless for whatever agent my supervisor moves into my place. I know there's a very unlikely chance, even though I helped get the contracts with ICE and Cerberus set up, that I'll actually be able to return to work here.
As I drive to the cabin, I feel like a failure. With the way some cases have been going lately, it's not an unfamiliar feeling.
I know Jericho is working on a case in Kentucky, but Lark got there last night. Although I've had several phone calls with the man and a couple of video chats, I've yet to meet him in person.
Lark is standing on the front porch when I pull up, and the man greets me with a smile first, before holding his hand out.
"Special Agent Yarrow," he says. "Or should I call you Ace?"
"Ace works," I tell the man, because my days of being a special agent may be coming to a close. I have no idea what my supervisor is doing behind the scenes to finally push me out of the Agency. "How are you settling into the house?"
"Not really settling," he says. "Only here for a few days before heading back out, but Hemlock seems nice."
I stare at the man, incapable of keeping the confusion off my face. "Nice?"
"Yeah. He's a little gruff, and it's clear he doesn't like to talk much, but he doesn't make me feel unwelcome." He narrows his eyes as he takes a step closer to me. "Is there something I should know?"
I shake my head. "You can trust him."
"Good to know." He puts a step of distance between the two of us. "He's in the kitchen with Zara if you're looking for him."
Instead of avoiding the inside of the house, I enter and make my way toward the kitchen.
Zara gives me a lovely smile when she sees me, and when Hemlock turns around, he doesn't look like he wants to tear me limb from limb, so maybe we're making progress.
"Did Kincaid talk to you about my absence?"
"I'll be upstairs," Zara says just before leaving the room .
I almost open my mouth to make a snide remark about how well-trained she is already, but I know it would end with me walking out of here a little bloody and broken, and that's no way to start a new case.
"He said Mike will be our ICE contact for a while," Hemlock states. "Can I get you something to drink?"
I stare at the man like he's grown a second head.
"I'm good, thanks," I manage.
"Don't look so shocked," he grumbles, the snarl I'm familiar with coming back onto his face. For some reason, it makes me feel better to know he hasn't changed as much as I thought he had. "Zara says I scare people."
"Asking me if I wanted a drink is scarier," I mumble. "Were you going to make me a drink if I said yes?"
He looks at me like he never even considered that would be my answer. "No. I'd point to the fucking fridge. It's not like you don't help yourself when you're here anyway."
I shrug, knowing he's right. When he was working his first case here in Tennessee, there were times I'd be in this house, waiting for him to come home. Hell, there were nights I waited and he never came home.
I don't know if Kincaid told him about the job I'll be working for Cerberus, so I don't mention it either. Thankfully, Hemlock isn't the type of guy to make small talk or concern himself with what other people are doing, especially if it doesn't have anything to do with him. I bet commanding officers loved him in the Marine Corps.
Mike is a good handler. He'll get them anything they need, but I get the feeling Hemlock will lean more on Cerberus in New Mexico than ICE while I'm away.
"Have you gotten another case yet?" I ask because where Hemlock doesn't ask questions, I'm a nosy motherfucker.
"I still have awhile before I'll be cleared for duty," he says, pointing at his side where he was stabbed a few weeks back. "We're heading to New Mexico. Em wants us to visit. "
Em is Emmalyn, Kincaid's wife, and what that woman wants, she always gets. She's the one who turned Cerberus from a band of horny men into a family. We—they were always brothers and having that connection to the Marine Corps was instrumental in that. But she was like the glue that started gathering tiny pieces of the men we could be at our highest potential and put them together. She, in a way, is responsible for a lot of the success the club has seen. She transformed a man who went from one hookup to the next into a man worthy of being a father and now a grandfather.
"Zara will love her, " I assure him, knowing Em won't hesitate for a moment to bring her under her wing and shelter the newest Cerberus lady like she was her own child.
"I'm a call away if you need me," I tell him, although I doubt he'll ever choose to call me when he has other options.
"Is there anything wrong?" he asks, latching on to how I didn't respond the way he thought I should. "Something I can help with?"
"Nah, man. See you around."
I leave the house, trying to think of anything but the clubhouse back in New Mexico. Nearly every memory I have of that place is locked in my brain with Noah right there. We were as thick as thieves as Rose used to say, as if we were a set of twins hellbent on finding trouble.
We were young and full of shit is what we were. We had no real responsibilities past the missions we went on with Cerberus, but when the work was through, we were at Jake's , the local bar, or heading to Albuquerque to find a different selection of women.
I can't think of Cerberus without thinking of my friend, and thoughts of him are dangerous. They're also a reminder that I need to keep my head down and just get my job done.