Off Course, page 14
He listened to Carson ramble, loving the sound of his voice, the desperation in his tone. Atticus felt it. The tension was building, drawing his body tighter and tighter until he thought he would snap.
“I’m gonna come,” Carson groaned. “Fuck. Atticus…”
That was it. The sound of his name on Carson’s lips snapped his restraint. Atticus managed to cover his dick with his other hand seconds before he came, warm spurts shooting into his palm.
“Jesus, Atticus. I hope like hell you’re comin’ back soon.”
He grinned into the darkness. For the first time in his life, he felt as though he had someone worth going home to.
Chapter Fourteen
Monday, August 8, 2022
“Any updates?”
JJ glanced over her shoulder to see Baz standing in the doorway.
They’d opted to work from home for the first part of the day since they had a doctor’s appointment at ten. At her last appointment two weeks ago, Dr. Tinder informed her she would start coming in every two weeks versus every month. At least until thirty-six weeks, when she began coming in weekly. JJ didn’t mind the visits, and she knew that Baz enjoyed hearing the heartbeat each time, so they’d been going to them together whenever possible.
“Not yet,” she admitted glumly. “I gave up on tryin’ to tie them to the mob. I asked Darius to start searchin’ for hotels or motels where Deck might’ve checked in.”
She figured it was a nearly impossible feat considering the size of New York City. With five boroughs, they couldn’t restrict their search to only Manhattan. It was easy to think of it as only Manhattan, but the city was so much bigger than that. It would take significant manpower to search everywhere. JJ was starting to think they were in need of some serious luck, or they were going to keep coming up empty.
“Did you ask Z if they had his itinerary?”
JJ nodded. “I called him earlier. He had no idea. I get the sense this was truly an off-the-books op. I’m not even sure Z let the team know his concern yet.”
And that was raising another red flag for her. JJ didn’t understand why it wouldn’t be all hands on deck for a missing agent. Why had Z selected the task force to look for Deck? Was he hiding something from everyone else?
“Maybe he doesn’t want to worry them yet.”
Yeah, maybe. She couldn’t imagine the agents Decker had worked with for years wouldn’t want to join in the hunt for their missing colleague. That or there was something else going on here that Z didn’t want them to know about. Whatever it was, Z was being tight-lipped about details even though he wasn’t hiding his concern for Deck’s well-being.
“Luca’s workin’ to hack the security cameras at Saoirse’s apartment.” JJ raised a hand to cut Baz off before he could tell her that was a no-no. “It’s not ideal, but we have to trace his steps before he disappeared, or we’ve got nothin’, Baz.”
“I get it. But why don’t you have Brantley and Reese swing by her place?”
“They will. Eventually. He said Ronan didn’t appear concerned for his sister. And since Ronan gave Kieran a heads up that they were askin’ questions, he’s probably alerted his sister as well.”
“So what are their plans this mornin’?”
“I sent them the info I pulled up on Kieran O’Rourke. According to Ronan, he’s the one who owns that club, but turns out the owner is Knox Montgomery.”
“Why does that name sound familiar?”
“Probably because he’s a filthy hot billionaire,” she said with a grin, laughing when Baz’s eyebrows rose. “I’m serious. He’s got his own hashtag and everything.”
Baz frowned.
“Knox Montgomery is the son of Jeremiah Montgomery, the man who developed Montage Markets.”
“Oh, shit. That super chain store, right?”
“Yep. Like Walmart, only not. Anyway. I’m graspin’ for anything that might give us a lead. Kieran told us he’d seen him, but that was before Deck fell off the map. I doubt Knox Montgomery could give anything more, but I figure it’s somethin’. And since Brantley’s got the entire team with him, they can hit the streets to search for Decker.”
Again, considering the size of New York City, it would be impossible for them to even make a dent, but they were there, and it was all they could do at the moment.
Baz continued to watch her. “Did Evan get there yet?”
JJ glanced at the clock. “No. His flight left at seven. He’ll be there by noon, their time.”
“Speaking of time.” Baz turned to walk out of the room. “We need to leave in thirty so we’re not late.”
“I’ll be ready. I promise.”
When he left the room, she turned back to her computer and finished the email to Elana. She’d detailed a list of things the team needed to start researching while she was out of pocket. That way, when she got to the office and Brantley called to find out what she knew, they wouldn’t look like they’d spent the morning with their thumbs up their asses.
Just once, she would like the universe to send them a case that made sense from the start. This was getting ridiculous.
***
Evan hated airports.
More specifically, he hated New York.
Where so many people saw a city rich in history and culture, Evan saw too many people and too much concrete. He would take Miami over New York City any day of the week. They both had diverse cultures and an electric atmosphere, but Miami had better weather and fewer people.
It was the people, he decided. The sheer number of people.
He hadn’t checked any luggage, so he didn’t have to wait before heading out into the smoggy morning. He hailed a cab, then held on for dear life while the man navigated toward the city. Evan stared out the window, his gut churning the closer they got to their destination.
He hadn’t slept for shit last night. He blamed that on the phone call with Becs. All day, he’d looked forward to hearing her voice, only to talk to her and find out her thoughts had taken a dark turn somewhere since their kiss on Saturday night. He probably shouldn’t have reacted so badly, but Evan couldn’t help it. What was the point in attempting to see where this went if she already doubted him?
The cabbie dumped him at the hotel and gave him almost enough time to get out before he was on his way to pick up someone else.
Shouldering his bag, Evan headed inside.
“Good morning,” the woman behind the check-in counter said with a pleasant, Monday-morning smile.
“Morning.”
“What’s the name on your reservation?”
“I don’t have one. I just need a single room for a day or two.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Evan saw the woman’s expression falter.
“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have any available rooms. If you don’t have a reservation…”
She let the sentence dangle, allowing him to fill it in however he wanted.
“I’ll take anything,” he said, hoping she would pull a room out of a hat.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“What about later? Do you have anyone checking out? I won’t need it until tonight anyway.”
She glanced at the screen, but Evan could tell she was merely placating him. When she looked back, he saw the truth in her eyes. Even if she had a cache of rooms set aside, he wouldn’t be getting one.
“Okay, then,” he said before walking away.
“Have a great day, sir,” she called after him.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Great day. Got it.”
He fucking hated New York.
Luckily, he still had options. Not ideal, but he could share a room with Slade. He’d take the couch; he didn’t care.
Dropping into one of the chairs in the lobby, he pulled out his phone. He shot Brantley a text to let him know he was there, then sent a quick one to Slade, letting him know he needed a place to crash.
The response from Brantley came almost immediately.
We’re finishing up at Saoirse’s apartment. She’s not here. Put your stuff in your room and meet us at the Monolith in thirty.
Can’t get a room. Hotel’s booked. I’ll take the couch in Slade’s room.
Shit. Slade’s sharing a room with Atticus. We’ll head back there. Give us twenty.
With a sigh, Evan relaxed and waited for his team to show up. He hated sitting still. It felt like he was wasting time. He could always store his bag with the concierge and come back for it later. Maybe they’d find Decker, and he could return to Texas tonight. He wouldn’t need a room. Or he could go down the street. There were half a dozen hotels in the vicinity. Surely, one of them had a room.
As he considered his options, his phone chimed with another text from Brantley.
Becs said you can share a room with her.
No.
No, no.
That wasn’t happening. No way did he trust himself in a room with her. Especially after their argument last night. He would rather camp in this chair for the foreseeable future.
Before he could argue his point, another message came from Brantley.
Leave your stuff with the concierge and meet us at the Monolith.
10-4.
Resigned to his fate, Evan got to his feet and headed back to the check-in desk.
***
“They told us nothin’, but they were nice enough,” Slade mused as Brantley stood in the apartment building’s lobby and processed the exchange they’d had with a very friendly yet ridiculously unhelpful concierge.
They’d come hoping to talk to Saoirse Kavanagh. According to the man with the radiant smile—it was fake, by the way—she wasn’t home. He didn’t buy that for a second, but Slade was right. The guy had seemed nice enough. He’d given them no information to help them, but he hadn’t seemed opposed to talking. Provided they didn’t ask anything personal about their esteemed resident. Whenever they mentioned Saoirse’s name, some of the light faded from his eyes.
Brantley’s phone buzzed. A text from Evan letting him know he had arrived.
He responded.
We’re finishing up at Saoirse’s apartment. She’s not home. Put your stuff in your room and meet us at the Monolith in thirty.
Can’t get a room. Hotel’s booked. I’ll take the couch in Slade’s room.
“Shit,” he muttered to himself.
All eyes turned to him.
“What’s wrong, boss?” Slade asked a second before his own phone buzzed.
“Evan’s here. They don’t have any available rooms.”
Brantley sent a follow-up message to Evan.
Shit. Slade’s sharing a room with Atticus. We’ll head back there. Give us twenty.
“What do you wanna do about it?” Reese asked from beside him.
“He can stay in my room,” Becs offered.
Everyone’s attention shifted to her.
She glanced at each of them. “What?”
“You wanna share a room with Evan?” Slade asked, chuckling.
“I didn’t say I wanted to,” she replied. “But there is a sofa bed that’s not being used.”
Brantley shot another message to Evan.
Becs said you can share a room with her.
“He can leave his stuff at the concierge,” Reese stated. “That way, we don’t have to make another stop. We can go right to the Monolith building.”
Brantley sent the new instructions to Evan.
Leave your stuff with the concierge and meet us at the Monolith.
10-4.
With that problem solved, Brantley tucked his phone in his pocket and stepped outside. It was hot, more so because all the buildings blocked any hope for wind. The streets were crowded and growing more so as the day passed. If they weren’t careful, they’d get swept up in the evening rush hour.
“You think we’re wastin’ our time goin’ to see this Knox guy?” Slade asked, walking alongside Brantley as they headed down the sidewalk.
“Probably,” he admitted.
Since they didn’t have any other leads to go on, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try. You never knew what a conversation might turn up. But yes, since Kieran didn’t know Decker’s whereabouts and he was actually a family friend, he figured Knox Montgomery would be a bust.
Two hours later, as they were walking out of the Monolith, having no more information than when they’d gone in, Brantley was at a loss.
In a city with a population of eight and a half million covering over three hundred square miles, they didn’t stand a chance of finding Decker. Certainly not if the guy didn’t want to be found. And while Brantley didn’t know that was the case, he was beginning to think it was. A seasoned operator like Decker would know to leave a few breadcrumbs for instances when he might find himself in hot water. From where Brantley stood, it looked as though the guy had purposely gone off the grid.
“Let’s grab some food,” Reese told him, clearly sensing his frustration. “We’ll take a breather and regroup.”
The entire day was a bust. They’d spent the morning working in the hotel’s business center, communicating with Luca and Darius while Becs tried to work things from this end. When JJ’d gotten to the office, she’d summed up everything they had, which was pretty much nothing more than they already knew. Ronan Kavanagh, Kieran O’Rourke, and Knox Montgomery had netted them nothing.
Well, maybe that wasn’t true. If they used deductive reasoning versus inductive, they were starting to see a pattern, and everything was pointing to Decker having gone rogue versus him having been taken. It was also leaving Z’s participation in the whole thing questionable. From the outside, it appeared that Z was helping them find Decker, but Brantley was starting to suspect that they were being sent off course on purpose.
“Since you haven’t spoken to Saoirse Kavanagh,” Evan prompted. “Why don’t Slade and I go to her apartment again? See if she’s there.”
It was almost three, which meant there was plenty of daylight left for them to search for their missing colleague. If only they had a destination to focus on. It wasn’t like they could go door to door and ask people if they’d seen the man.
“She’s got a penthouse apartment with more security than the Kavanagh building,” Brantley told him.
“The reference is lost on him, boss,” Slade said with a grin. “He didn’t have the pleasure.” Slade turned to Evan. “Seriously, man. If she’s holed up at home, I doubt we’ll get anywhere near her.”
“He’s right,” Brantley agreed. “If she doesn’t want us to know she’s there, we aren’t gonna know.”
“We could watch it for a while. See who comes and goes,” Evan offered.
“Have you ever been to New York?” Brantley retorted, gesturing toward the hordes of people that surrounded them. Picking one person out of this mob would be nearly impossible.
“It won’t hurt to try,” Slade added.
“Fine,” Brantley told him, but he looked at Slade. “However, you won’t be goin’ with him. I want you to stay partnered with Atticus.”
He could see Slade’s confusion, but he didn’t feel the need to elaborate. Brantley had watched Atticus at the club last night. He’d honestly been impressed. While Slade had practically glued his eyes to Becs’s backside, Atticus had spoken to every person he came in contact with, flashing the photo of Decker that he had on his phone. For a guy who pretended not to give a shit about anything, Atticus could focus when he wanted to.
“I can go alone,” Evan told him, glancing between him and Slade.
“Take Becs.”
The man’s eyebrows popped up so quickly that Brantley had to backtrack to what he’d said to ensure it hadn’t been inappropriate.
“Somethin’ wrong?” he asked, glancing between Evan and Becs.
“Not at all,” Becs said at the same time Evan said, “No. Not a thing.”
Weird.
While he sensed a potential storm brewing between them, Brantley didn’t have the time or patience to delve into their problems.
“Good,” he told them. “I’ll check in with JJ, see if she has any suggestions on where to go next. Grab some food, and I’ll let you know what I find.”
“And I’ll call Z,” Reese announced. “See if he’s heard anything.”
The six of them stood there for a moment, and Brantley wondered what the problem was, but again, he didn’t care to ask.
It wasn’t until Evan, Becs, Slade, and Atticus headed in the opposite direction that Reese spoke up. “You realize what you just did there, right?”
“I split up the teams so we can cover more ground,” he said, staring at his partner.
“No, you poked the bear.”
Brantley glanced behind him in the direction the group had gone. “What bear?”
“Evan.”
“What’s wrong with Evan?”
Reese fell into step beside him, Tesha walking between them. “Nothin’s wrong with him, per se. He’s just got a thing for Becs.”
Brantley frowned. “Really? I thought Slade had a thing for her based on the way he ogled her last night.”
“There’s a good chance that’s true, too,” Reese muttered.
“Are they fightin’ over her?”
“Nope.”
“You know that for a fact?”
Reese’s eyebrows rose slowly. “Nope.”
Brantley didn’t get it. “It bother you?”
“What? That they’re fraternizin’? No.” Reese looked over as he pulled out his phone. “You call JJ. I’ll call Z. Let’s see what else we can do before we lose daylight.”
With more questions than answers, Brantley grabbed his phone and dialed JJ’s number. He hoped like hell she had an idea of where to go next. Otherwise, he saw no reason to stick around. And based on Reese’s reaction yesterday, Brantley knew he was the only one.
Chapter Fifteen
“Honestly, Z, I don’t know what more we can do.”
Reese stared at Brantley while the man finished the conversation with Z. Reese had called his brother, but when Z told him he didn’t have anything more for them to go on, Brantley had taken over the call. Evidently, JJ hadn’t come up with anything else, either.
