“Look who decided to pay us a visit today,” Sabrina Desdune Bennett said as she leaned back in her chair, legs crossed on top of her desk.
“We were beginning to think you’d forgotten where you worked.” This smart remark was from Bailey Donovan, Trent’s cousin and Bree’s new partner in crime.
Sam eyed both of them. Bree, with her small frame, smooth cocoa skin and long dark hair that was more often than not pulled back into a ponytail, was a petite woman who packed a lot of punch—ask any of the men and women who’d served with her the eight years she was in the Marines. Then there was Bailey, an Alicia Keyes look-alike, dressed in jeans that rode too low on her hips to be legal, a tank top and an open button-down shirt. Bailey was lethal, with brains, beauty and balls bigger than any man walking—a deadly combination on a woman.
Thus his response was carefully worded before it rolled out of his mouth. Working in the office with two women of this caliber for the past three months had taught him something.
“Good morning, ladies. How’s it going?”
When their responses were a mixture of snickers and grunts, Sam kept moving into his office, knowing instinctively that they would follow.
“So why didn’t you come back to the office yesterday? Did something else happen on the new case?” Bree asked, sticking her hands into her pockets as she stood on the other side of his desk. Bailey had come in as well, perching her hips on the edge of his desk and looking over her shoulder at him.
“Nothing else happened on the case. Where’s the file on Leandro?”
“On my desk,” Bree said.
“The Lakefields are very attractive women. How do you know them and which one of them called you?” This was Bailey in her low, smoky voice.
“D&D Investigations is well-known,” Sam responded tightly. He didn’t like the way they were looking at him, or interrogating him, for that matter. “Don’t you have something to do? Follow up on the Chester case maybe?”
“All my leads have run into a dead end. I’m tapping the phones for a ransom call but not really holding out on it. I think it’s someone they know who has the girl. Someone they pissed off, looking into possible cartel connections.”
Sam looked up from the messages he’d been flipping through as he sat down behind his desk. “Cartel? Are you serious? A drug cartel in Greenwich?”
Bailey shrugged. “Hey, people are getting high all over the world, it’s not a segregated pastime.”
“Don’t be smart. I’m just saying that even during the years I was on the police force, there was never any word of a drug cartel in town.”
“You were a suit-wearing homicide detective, of course you wouldn’t know about a cartel,” Bree said with more than a hint of sarcasm.
“And you were traveling the world in a uniform with rifles in hand, so don’t act like you knew,” he shot back at her.
“At any rate,” Bailey interrupted, “we all know now that there’s a distinct possibility that the Chesters of Greenwich are connected to a cartel in Columbia. When I was out there day before yesterday, I picked up a packet I spotted in the bushes. It had three dots on it, red, black and purple. Agent Greer looked into it for me. It’s the mark of the Sanchez Cartel.”
Sam was rubbing his chin, digesting Bailey’s words. “Sanchez Cartel. So what’s your theory on why they took the girl?”
“Revenge. Bad debt. Warning. Punishment. Any number of weird sadistic things that somebody needs to pay for. Greer is working the profiles.”
“You sound like you’re seeing a lot of Agent Greer. I thought you were told to steer clear of the FBI.”
Bailey lifted from the desk and turned, flattening her palms on the desk, her face only inches from Sam’s. “Look, you’re not my handler and Trent isn’t my father. If I want to work for the FBI, then I will and you can’t stop me.”
Sam nodded. “I can’t, but Trent can, and he is.” When she was about to go off again, Sam held up a hand. “But that’s an argument for another day. Keep working the Chesters and the cartel angle. I want a daily report on where you stand with that. Unfortunately, it’s probably a good idea to keep the Feds in on it. Now, Bree, I visited a couple of other galleries that Leandro is showing at. Nothing as high-class as the Lakefield, so he’s definitely moving up in the world by contacting them.”
“Did you show her the picture? Was it him?” Bree asked.
“No. It wasn’t him.”
“And that’s why you’re so uptight?”
“I’m not uptight.”
“You are.”
“Bree, I’m not in the mood for this today.”
“That’s because you’re uptight. So why don’t you just tell us what’s eating you so we can get to the bottom of it and move on.”
It was times like this Sam hated being a twin. Although he and Sabrina didn’t look alike, except for the color and shape of their eyes, they were as close as if they were identical. Something about a twin-sense they shared. And because Bailey was a twin as well, she’d known exactly what they were going through.
“It’s just something about the case that’s bugging me.”
“Something or someone?” Bree insisted. Sam frowned.
“You never said which sister called you,” Bailey said. “They’re all intriguing. I researched them last night. There’s Monica, the ice queen with an off-the-charts IQ. Then there’s Deena, the free spirit with an artistic streak of her own. But I’m putting my money on Karena. The middle daughter with excellent taste in art.”
Bailey was too damned thorough. The FBI would be lucky to have her on its side.
“All right, yes, it was Karena who called me. And she called me because we met a few months back at the opening of Linc’s new casino. Actually, we met about a month before that. But anyway, she’s not the problem.” And he was telling the truth in that regard. Karena was not a problem because he knew exactly how he was going to deal with her.
“If she’s not the problem then something connected to her and this case is.”
“I don’t like the vibes I got from the family meeting yesterday, that’s all. It’s probably nothing. I mean, I know how family can be.”
“Oh, yeah, that reminds me, Dad wants us all at the restaurant on Sunday for brunch. He has an announcement to make.”
Sam nodded just as his cell phone rang.
“Desdune.”
“Hi. It’s Karena.”
She sounded breathless. Stressed. Worried. He was instantly on alert. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I mean…” she sighed. “I just wanted to see if you’d made any progress.”
“No. I’m going over some things with Bree and Bailey now.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, call me back as soon as you hear something.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? If there’s something…” Sam stopped, noting the curious gazes of Bree and Bailey as he spoke. He cleared his throat and rephrased his words, because he was definitely getting ready to say if there was something wrong he’d be in Manhattan within the hour. Instead he said, “If there’s something you need to tell me about the case, we can schedule a meeting. I’m free this afternoon.”
“No. No. That’s okay. I don’t want to see… I mean, I don’t need to…” Again she sighed then took a deep breath. “It’s fine. Just give me a call with any updates.”
Too late, he thought, he was definitely heading into the city today, just as soon as he could manage it. Something was going on with her. She sounded upset, almost unsure of herself, and he wanted to know why. Had her father been in her office and upset her? Her sister? He felt his protective instincts going into overdrive.
“Sure. I’ll call you as soon as I hear something.” He disconnected the call because he wasn’t alone and free to push her further. And he definitely didn’t want to give Bree and Bailey any more tidbits of conversation to speculate over.
“So you want to tell us the truth about what’s going on between you and Karena Lakefield now, or do we have to use our superior private-investigator skills to find out on our own?” Bree asked as Bailey gave him a knowing smile.
Sam frowned then shooed them both out of his office. “I’m not paying you to investigate me or my personal life. So get back to work.”