Chapter 12
TWELVE
Callum stared out the back window watching the clouds converge over the pewter water. The warm night had turned into a muggy morning, the air too heavy for the waves to lift out of the ocean. Definitely not a day to rush to the beach. Not that he was in a hurry to leave his bed anyway.
He looked down at Brielle, her steady breath tickling his chest. He stroked her arm, watching the pads of his fingers trail lazily across her skin.
The soft curves of her body molded perfectly with the harder edges of his own.
Like two parts of a whole. The agent in him would have congratulated himself for accomplishing an objective if the glutton in him could keep his hands off her.
When he heard the front door lock disengage, he wasn’t alarmed. In fact, he was expecting a visit. Sliding himself out from underneath her, he dragged himself out of bed, threw on jeans, and t-shirt and stowed his gun before heading out the bedroom door.
The room was empty, but could see the key to the front door lying conspicuously on the granite kitchen counter. He examined it then continued on to the coffee machine. “You can come out, Leslie.”
She appeared from behind the wall with a smile pulling at her lips. “God, was I that loud?” she asked. “I thought I’d be waiting at least a little while.”
“Come on. You know I can hear a pin drop in the next room.” He wiped the sleep from his eyes then reached for the coffee filters from above the fridge.
He noticed she was dressed more casually than usual in jeans and a white hoodie.
Her hair was pulled back in a stubby ponytail.
“This visit feels urgent but I’m glad you’re here.
I’m sure you heard from Diggs about the hotel last night. ”
“I did,” she said, sitting down at the counter. “We need to talk.”
“What's up? Did you get anything on the suspect?”
She looked at him a moment before glancing back at the bedroom door. “She’s in your bed, isn’t she?”
He sensed a waver in her voice that had nothing to do with business.
“Yeah, she is.”
She nodded, fumbling with a napkin she pulled from the holder. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve never known you to pass up a pretty girl. I almost hate to tell you she’s a criminal.”
Callum stopped mid-pour of his coffee. He’d never known Leslie to let her personal feelings invade business dealings. There must have been a reason other than jealousy for her to make such an accusation. “What do you mean by criminal?” he asked. “What did you find?”
“Look, I just want you to know that it’s not like we are out to get her or anything. Diggs and I have legitimate reasons why we’re targeting her.”
“Targeting her? That’s crazy.”
“After what happened last night, we decided it might be helpful to get a warrant to go through her house.”
A surge of anger lifted the hairs on the back of his neck. “A warrant? What the hell for?”
“It’s procedure, Callum.”
“It’s bullshit.” He bit his lip, reminding himself to keep his voice down. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he said, his hands up in resignation. “Go on, I’m listening.”
“We went in her house overnight and collected what we thought was pertinent. Among those things was printer paper left in the tray of her computer. The watermarks match the paper containing the threats.”
He was prepared for something really damning, but Leslie’s words almost brought a laugh. “That’s it?” Callum asked. “Paper is paper. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Not by itself. But we also took a DNA sample of her toothbrush and compared it to the saliva on the envelope seal.”
“And?”
“They match.”
“So what are you saying? That you think Brielle is sending herself threatening letters? Why would she do something like that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she wanted to throw the authorities off the trail of the investigation.”
He shook his head. “No way.”
“It makes sense, Callum. Say she was in cahoots with her father. If the law gets too close, she created a new suspect.”
He rubbed his hand over his stubbled cheeks. His years of training told him the most logical theories were usually the correct ones, but everything within him believed she was innocent. In this situation, he had to depend on his instincts. “She not a criminal.”
“By whose definition? If what we suspect is correct, that she agreed to take part in a federal crime and attempted to derail an official investigation.”
“Can we just keep in mind who we are really after here?”
“The lipstick on the bathroom mirror is hers,” she told him. “We tested that too.”
“And that’s what prompted you to search her house? You suspect she threatened herself at the hotel?” He shook his head. “No way, Leslie. There was no time for her to do it.”
“You kept her pretty busy, right?”
He looked her in the eyes. “Just drop it, okay?”
“I can’t drop it if you’re impeding a government investigation. I can’t believe you are losing focus over some blonde.”
“Tell me where the hell are you going with this,” he demanded. “Spit it out!”
Callum recognized her disapproving look. The one she always gave when his temper got too flared for her comfort. “Well?”
“We think Brielle planned with her father to throw the match. She is sending herself threatening mail so there appears to be a motive that someone else is responsible for the attack.”
“No way,” he finally said. “It doesn’t fit. Believe me, she’s the victim not the criminal.”
“Callum, this is the best chance we’ve ever had at Big Frank thanks to your hard work. We have enough evidence to at least bring her in for questioning.”
“I’m not bringing her in.”
She cocked her head as if she hadn’t heard him right. “Tampering with mail is a federal crime. Of course you have to bring her in. That’s procedure.”
“Look, I’m running the show here. I’ll tell you what procedure is.” His scrubbed his face and shook his head. “I am telling you, Leslie, she isn’t the person you think she is.”
“You don’t have feelings for her, do you?”
“Of course not.” Even he noticed the answer came too quickly.
“My God, I don’t believe it.”
“Leslie, don’t.”
“Callum Harrison, you are regarded as one of the foremost experts on organized crime in the country. Never in a million years did I think you would let some daddy’s little princess get in the way of your job. Especially not Frank Riley’s daughter.”
“Look, I promise you there is a method to my madness.”
“You could be harboring a criminal. She lied to you.”
“She’s not lying, Leslie. She told me she made a deal with her father. She agreed to throw the match after he pushed her so hard, but she changed her mind.”
He waited a moment for Leslie to react but she didn’t, her eyes still holding the same cold stare. “I know how it sounds, but I believe her,” he pressed on. “The whole thing, her whole story. I swear. It went down just like it went down with me.”
He sat down at the counter and buried his face in his hands.
Never in his life had he felt this way on a case.
Like the careful control he’d built his career on was now under attack by his own emotions.
Wasn’t that the definition of self-sabotage?
Leslie was right, he’d come too far to mess this up.
“Come on Leslie,” he said. “Can we please just cut the girl some slack. Her own father put the squeeze on her. I’m telling you she’s innocent. You just got to trust me on this one.”
“Is that a line you feed all the girls, Callum?”
Startled by the voice, he turned toward the bedroom. Brielle leaned on the doorjamb in her white silk robe, her arms folded against her.
“Damn it,” Callum mumbled, running his hand through his hair.
“Yes, I agree!” Brielle declared as she came across the room.
She avoided Callum, instead turning her attention to Leslie.
“So, we meet again. You seem very fixated on keeping tabs on me. Tell me, is it really about the crimes you think I’ve committed or that I’m sleeping with the object of your affection. ”
“Brielle, she’s not who you think she is,” Callum said, staring in his coffee cup.
“You think I’m going to believe anything you say after you just sold me out?”
“I didn’t sell you out.”
“So now I suppose you’ll go to my father,” Brielle spat. “Tell me, which one of you is putting the bullet through my head?”
“That’s not going to happen,” Callum jumped up to face her. “We’re here to protect you. I promise you that.”
“You promised me a lot of things,” she sneered. “But I’m not hanging around here expecting you to keep them.” Brielle turned on her heels and stormed back to the bedroom. Callum moved to follow before Leslie pulled him back.
“You have to bring her in. You’ve worked too hard to let Frank go just because of some girl.”
“The job will get done,” he insisted. “Just give me some time. I’ll take care of it.”
“Callum…”
“There’s the door, Leslie. Use it.”
For a second, Leslie didn’t move. Her eyes stayed on him. Measuring and disappointed, maybe pitying.
“You’re going to regret this,” she said quietly.
He didn’t answer. Just silently hoped she was wrong.
Leslie turned and walked out without another word. Callum exhaled slowly, his hands braced on the counter like he needed something solid to hold him up. How had this unraveled so quickly? And what was it about Brielle that he’d let it?
Beyond the bedroom door awaited answers. He hated that they weren’t necessarily truthful ones, maybe that would have to do.
For now.
Brielle threw on a white tennis dress then jammed what she could in her duffle bag.
She fumbled with the zipper, her fingers trembling too much to get a good hold.
Blaming Callum for her own stupidity was a cop-out.
Every word that had passed between her loose lips was a mistake.
It probably wouldn’t be an issue much longer, anyway.
Big Frank never allowed time for regrets.
“Bri, what are you doing?” Callum came up behind her, attempting to take her in his arms.
“Don’t touch me!” She swung at him, but he ducked.