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Chapter Six
Reid
“And you have absolutely nothing on her?” I leaned forward and placed my elbows onto my knees as I pulled my glasses off to rub the tension headache building in my forehead.
“I just don’t think she’s involved, Reid. The woman is never late on a single bill, she files her taxes on time every year. Hell, she’s never even had a speeding ticket.” Alex repeated the same thing back to me that he’s told me three times already, he can’t find a single thing that ties Holly Adkins to her father’s illegal business dealings.
“Dammit, Alex. So, tell me, why is she working on both the Midtown Bank Café and the Anderson House project? Why the coincidences? She shouldn’t be tied to all three of our main suspects if she isn’t herself a damn suspect.” We’re less than two weeks out from the Anderson House claim. We’ve been tiptoeing around this Midtown Bank shit that has led to absolutely nowhere for weeks. We’re tracking the money, but we have no indication of incoming or outgoing shipments that would tie Wilks or Adkins to the human trafficking allegations we have against them. I’m floundering here and the loss of control is driving me insane.
“I don’t know what to tell you, man. I’ve scanned her file so many times I feel like she’s my new BFF. I know what she eats for breakfast in the morning, and that she doesn’t wear pajamas to sleep at night. I’ve been watching her for weeks, and we have nothing. Zilch. Let’s re-group and try a different avenue because this one sure as hell isn’t getting us anywhere.”
My mind stopped thinking, temporarily short-circuiting. An unfamiliar rage boiled just below my skin, and I felt the blood rushing in my veins, my testosterone feeding my adrenalin like I was going into an undercover op and we were about to blow the lid off of that shit.
Reasonably, I know Alex is married. I know he loves his wife, and he’s always the first to admit how damn lucky he is, but…the thought of another man watching Holly, of someone else seeing her as she climbs into her bed at night, it’s fucking with my head.
But why? It’s not like I’ve seen her before bed. Up until a few minutes ago, I was sure she was a suspect in my case. Now I’m wondering if she leaves her panties on or not before she slides between her sheets.
“Reid, you there?” Alex’s words coming through my speaker phone broke through the runaway train my thoughts had become.
“Yeah, I’m here. Alex, send me that file.”
“Holly’s file? I’m not really…”
“Send me the damn file, Alex.” I interrupted him mid-sentence, the demand in my own voice surprising me.
“I’m going to ask you a question, Reid. This is completely off the record, as your best friend. Do you need to step aside from this case? I know tensions are high with your father involved. Usually, you wouldn’t even be on this case for that very reason, but this was a special set of circumstances that we all agreed to.”
“Fuck no, I’m not stepping aside from this case. I have never stepped down from a case, and I don’t plan to start now.” That anger that I felt earlier continued to boil just below surface level as I argued with my best friend about something I didn’t even fully understand myself.
“And this file. Holly. Because we have deemed her non-suspect there is no reason for you to have her file. But you want it? Is that what I’m hearing?” He edged, as he began to put pieces of a puzzle together that he has no business assembling.
“Alex, watch it. Don’t insinuate something that isn’t there. I want to review the file to see if something was missed.”
“And yet, you want to insinuate that I can’t do my damn job properly? Just go ahead and admit you’re attracted to her, Reid. Blonde hair, blue eyes. You have a type, and it’s staring me in the face as we speak. You know she wears the boy shorts to bed, right? The tight ones that hug their ass and their cheeks peek out of the bottom, teasing you to touch.” He’s baiting me and dammit if it isn’t working.
“Fuck you, asshole. Email the file over. Good night, Alex. Tell the wife and the babies I love them.” I hung up the phone and leaned back into my office chair, closing my eyes in an attempt to ease the throbbing from my temples.
I tried to imagine the calming waves of the ocean, some bullshit method of tranquility and calming one of the bureau’s many therapists suggested to me once, but instead all I ended up imagining was Holly climbing into bed, ass swaying in the air taunting me in a pair of hot pink boy shorts, the same color as the camisole she wore the other day at the café, and nothing else.
???
It's nearing midnight and the building that houses the Chapman Group is silent. I sent Amanda home hours ago. She wasn’t discreet in the least when she offered to stay and work late. But after talking to Alex, I just wanted her to leave – that in and of itself is concerning on more than one level.
I enjoy sex, I always have, ever since Julie Campbell touched my dick when we were fourteen. I remember it like it was yesterday, we were in the boy’s locker room of the gym at our high school after Winter Formal. I pulled my cock from my khaki slacks as she stared on in a mixture of curiosity and amazement. It was like her hand held magical properties as she licked her pretty pink lips and reached out to touch me. She stroked the head of my cock with her delicate, manicured fingers, and I came all over her sequined blue dress within seconds. The next day I made sure to thank Alex for not taking her to that dance; sometimes you win and sometimes you lose. Unless you’re me, and fuck if I’m not always a winner.
I probably should have been embarrassed by my lack of performance and quick...response, but I wasn’t – I got mine, and God, it felt good. My life was changed forever with that one touch. Not to mention, I made up for it a year later when I took her virginity with a practiced skill well beyond my young age.
I’m not picky, although Alex is right, I tend to lean towards a certain type. What is the saying, blondes have more fun? Well, I may not be blonde, but I’ve done enough research to determine that blondes are my favorite kind of bombshells in the bedroom…or the shower…or the penthouse suite of the nearest hotel. Something about that light, golden hair fanned over my olive skin, wrapped around my calloused hands, it’s my kryptonite.
My fingers itched as I waited for my email to alert with the file Alex was sending over.
How is it possible that Holly Adkins is the direct bloodline of an elite mafia family and has no idea? That somehow the company she owns is working on projects for both the Midtown Bank Café and the Anderson House, which are both insured by my father. That Anderson House is none other than a historic plantation home owned by Sylvester Wilks, one of the most elusive and filthiest ring leaders in the trafficking of young women and children in the world. Something is tying them all together, but I can’t find my missing link.
Alex and I make a good team. Alex is data oriented, he’s very black and white. He’s one of the most brilliant minds in the country when it comes to coding, hacking, and the dark web. His one weakness is his inability to see the grey area. Alex is so precise that he alienates the feeling from our engagements, where I act on my gut. I rely on my senses and years of experience to make split second decisions that often mean the difference between life and death. Not just my life, but the lives of other agents and the innocents that we fight daily to protect from the evil of this world. Apart we are both good agents, great agents even, but put us together and we are unstoppable. It’s one of the reasons the bureau doesn’t even consider separating us, even though our history extends back our entire lifetimes. We’re worth more to them together than we are apart.
Alex is quick to dismiss Holly because his data says she isn’t a threat to us, so why waste our time?
My gut is telling me that there is a reason for all of the coincidences we see with Holly, there has to be, but I can’t isolate what exactly it is.
