Exposed Read online

  “In here,” he answered, setting the gun back on the table.

  “What happened?” she asked, hurrying to the sofa and turning on the table lamp, the expression on her face clearly illustrating that she was quickly assessing the situation. She sat on the sofa next to him so she could face Sydney, who still had the side of her face pressed right against where his heart beat.

  Jake came to stand nearby. His mouth in a grim line, the look of a wary professional lawman on his face.

  “Her house burned down,” Frank said, staring straight into the other man’s eyes. Then he switched his focus over Sydney’s head to Sami. “I think she’s in shock. She was so cold, I had to try and get her warm.”

  “Sydney, can you hear me?” Sami stroked some the blonde hair that had come out of the bun back from her face. “Can you look at me?”

  Sydney shifted in his arms, her head moving slightly away from his chest. He resisted the weird urge to pull her back.

  “Jake can you put on some water to boil, and bring her something strong to drink?” Sami looked up at Frank in question.

  “There’s bourbon near the electric wine opener on the counter,” he called out.

  “Got it.”

  A moment later, Jake handed the glass tumbler with a finger’s worth of the Kentucky bourbon to his wife, then headed back into the kitchen to follow her other instructions.

  “Take a little sip,” Sami said, as she took one of Sydney’s hands in hers and wrapped it around the glass, then helped her bring it to her lips.

  Sydney did as instructed, then grimaced. “Yuck.”

  Sami smiled. “I know, I’m not a whiskey drinker, either, but it will warm you from the inside.” She pushed on the glass and Sydney took another, bigger drink.

  “That’s nasty.” She made a face at Frank. Her eyes less dazed, the pallor of her skin less frightening, as she gave him a you’re-crazy-to-like-this-stuff look.

  “Excuse me? That’s my very expensive bourbon you’re drinking, finest there is, in fact,” Frank defended his choice of liquid libation.

  “Still sucks,” Sydney muttered.

  “It’s an acquired taste,” he muttered back.

  She took one more sip, made the same grimace, and pushed the glass towards Sami, shaking her head. “No more, please.”

  Sami, who seemed to be trying to keep from laughing, set the glass on the table. “Do you have any tea, Frank?”

  “Yeah, all kinds.” He kept all his safe houses and his home stocked with different kinds of teas, coffees and pops, just in case a witness voiced a preference and he needed them not to leave the premises.

  “Why don’t you go make Sydney a cup?” Sami said, gently pulling the afghan off them and helping Sydney off his lap as he eased out from beneath her. Once he was standing, she wrapped the afghan around the photographer and held both her hands, gently chaffing them to continue the warming process.

  In the kitchen, Frank busied himself finding a mug and pulling out the box of assorted teas from the cupboard. Setting it on the counter, he opened the lid and stared at all the individual packets. “Which kind?”

  “Lemon ginger,” Jake said, leaning in to pick the light-yellow-and-orange packet and hand it to him. “Sami gives that to the kids when they’re sick. Says it boosts the immune system.”

  “Not going to argue with a mom and a nurse.” Frank opened the packet, pulled out the little tea bag and set it in the mug while the tea kettle heated on the stove.

  As they waited, he could literally hear the gears turning in the FBI agent’s head.

  Wait for it…

  “Gonna tell me what happened, and why we found you cuddling the wedding photographer in your lap like she was someone you’ve known for years instead of a few hours? And why you felt the need to hold a gun at the door until you were sure it was us coming in?”

  And here it was. The moment a friend, colleague, and member of his adopted family questioned his actions. Hell, he’d question them, too.

  He ran his left hand over the stubble on his lower jaw.

  “I gave Miss Peele a ride home after the wedding. When we got on her street, the road was blocked by fire engines. Turns out it was her house on fire.”

  “Damn. That sucks,” Jake said, all seriousness.

  “That’s not the worst. While we were standing across the street an explosion occurred and the house literally blew all to hell.”

  “A bomb?”

  Trust the FBI agent in his friend to jump to that conclusion. The same one he’d had. Especially after she’d whispered those words about her brother—what have you done?

  Frank shook his head. “Don’t know. Could’ve simply been a gas leak.”

  “There’s something else you’re not telling me,” Jake said, lowering his voice.

  Frank glanced at the sofa where Sydney sat talking quietly with Sami. “She assumed her brother might’ve been in there when we first saw the fire.”

  “But…?”

  “After the explosion, she said something strange.” He didn’t take his eyes off Sydney while he spoke.

  “Jesus, Castello, it’s like pulling teeth to get information out of you.” Jake grabbed his arm to get his attention. “What did she say?”

  He stared into the other man’s face. “She whispered, Ian, what have you done?”

  “Ian would be…?”

  “Her brother.”

  “And that set off what Luke calls the Spidey-sense.”

  It wasn’t a question. Jake and all the Edgars brothers had talked at length how when something wasn’t right, or one of their wives was in danger, they all seemed to get a tingling up their spine. Luke had given it a name, stealing it from his favorite superhero.

  “The way she said it, and how still she went…” He shook his head, trying to make sense of everything that happened and his reaction to it. “I just had to get her away from there as fast as possible. If she’d been a high-priority witness or political target, I could understand the feeling that we were out in the open. Exposed. Being watched. But she’s just a little fashion photographer.”

  “That we know very little about.”

  Jake’s words brought him up short and Frank’s gaze shot back to Sydney, who finally had some color back in her face. Could she be in league with her brother over something sinister? Or could they be in some kind of trouble, and exploding their past as a way to dodge the consequences?

  The teakettle whistled. As he poured the water into the mug, he let his mind revisit the scene at the burning house like he’d watched Abigail do when she was seeing a crime scene again.

  Sydney running to the house. Sydney trying to fight her way past the fireman. Her face as she watched her home burn. Her focus on the house, her eyes large with fear.

  “No, her reaction to the fire had been real. No way could someone fake that kind of shock.” He added a spoonful of sugar to the tea, then another. Finally, he faced his friend once more. “Luke and Abigail trusted her. Not just with their wedding pictures, but on at least one of their assignments…Milan, I think it was.”

  “True,” Jake said, leaning one hip against the counter. “But you and I know that someone can be a good person in public and have dark secrets they’d kill to keep hidden. I could pull some strings and get my people to do some background search on Sydney and her brother, but that would make it official.”

  “I’d rather not get anyone official involved, just yet,” Frank said, unable to shake the need to protect Sydney, even if it was from herself.

  “We could use some other options to get the information. A good hacker could probably get us what we want to know.” Jake paused a moment. “And of course the one we know the best and trust the most just left town on his honeymoon, they’re probably already tucked into their private island retreat.”

  “Yeah, he was proud there would be limited Internet and cell phone connection. Leave it to Luke to go off the grid just when we’d need him to do some special computer research fo
r us.”

  Before the youngest Edgars brother had gone into government law enforcement, he’d dabbled in some amateur black hat hacking. His oldest brother got wind of it and suggested—Frank gathered Dave had used a fist or two, as well as some persuasive words to convince the teenage rebel—that he find a more honest way to use his skills before finding himself behind bars.

  “We’ll be able to leave a message on their phones and hopefully they’ll contact us in the next few days.”

  “What if we don’t have a few days? I’d like to know who and what I’m dealing with, ASAP.”

  “There’s always Doyle.” Jake said after a few moments.

  “Your old partner on the local PD? Didn’t he retire years ago?”

  “Yeah, workman’s comp for an injury sustained on the job. He’s been doing some private detecting, has a computer setup the NSA would envy, and has been taking lessons on looking behind the curtain from—”

  “Luke.”

  “And Abby. Turns out my new sister-in-law can give Luke a run for his money with the computer. The added advantage of using Doyle is he knows how to keep information to himself, so if you want, we could ask him to help out.”

  “We? Just because my danger bells went off doesn’t mean anyone else needs to get involved—” he started to protest.

  “Sure we do,” Jake interrupted, then tilted his head toward the living room where Sami and Sydney were sitting. “It’s what family does. And like it or not, big guy, you’re family.” He grabbed the note pad and pen Frank always kept by the landlines in his houses. “Let’s go see if we can get some of the photographer’s secrets, shall we?”

  Frank picked up the bottle of bourbon, poured a helping into the mug of hot tea, then followed Jake into the living area. The alcohol would help Sydney sleep later, and relax enough to willingly answer questions. He didn’t like the idea of Jake interrogating her, but dammit, he needed information if he was going to find out who’d targeted her home for demolishing, and if they meant her more harm.

  Slowly, Sydney’s body started to thaw as she sipped on the tea. The heat from the mug warming her hands as much as the liquid heated her insides. “This is much better than the whiskey. Thank you.”

  “Too sweet?” Frank, seated in the big leather chair, his dark eyes focused like a laser beam on her, asked, and she wondered how much sugar he’d added.

  “How much?”

  “Two.”

  “Enough.” She could talk in short spurts, too. Lowering her eyes, she focused on the tea in the mug. She knew they had questions. She did, too.

  “I’m very sorry for what happened to your home tonight, Sydney,” Jake said. “Castello said your brother was staying there?”

  She nodded and blinked back the tears. “Ian.”

  “Was he older or younger?” Sami asked, her hand gently rubbing up and down Sydney’s back. The contact felt good, soothing.

  “Older by four years. He was always just dropping in unannounced and at the most inconvenient times.”

  “I know what that’s like. Brothers can be a bit self-centered, can’t they?”

  She gave Sami a little smile. “Yes, and you had three. How did you survive it?”

  “I gave as good as I got. It was either that or let them run roughshod over me.”

  “You said he’d just drop in. Where does he live?” Jake asked.

  She gave him a little shrug. “Nowhere in particular. At least nothing with a permanent address.”

  “He’s homeless?”

  Castello’s question pulled her attention to him. How did he do that? Speak two words with such intensity and meaning? And why did he make her feel so defensive?

  “No. He’s not out on the streets. He knows he’s always got a place with me when he’s in town. He’s just never in one spot long enough to have a place or see after the upkeep on an apartment or house.”

  “What does he do?”

  “Ian’s a freelance photographer. He travels around the world covering stories. A war breaks out? He’s there. A natural disaster happens? Off runs Ian. He’s covered every Olympic event for years. Summit meetings, political scandals.” She gave another shrug. “It’s what he does.”

  “When did he drop in this time?” Jake asked. He was writing on a notepad.

  “Why are you taking notes? Is there something you’re not telling me?” Her heart started to pick up its pace. She looked at the serious faces of the three people she’d just met today, finally coming to rest on Castello.

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The tense line of his lips and the solid stare back at her spoke volumes.

  “You think Ian started the fire on purpose? How could you?” She jumped from her comfortable spot on the sofa, the afghan falling around her feet. “You don’t even know him!”

  “That’s right, we don’t.” Suddenly, Frank stood before her, grasping her by the elbows, more for support than confinement. “We’re not accusing him of anything. Or you. Tomorrow, we’ll have to go talk to the police, and Jake is just helping you get more focused. Taking notes is part of his routine.”

  Sami gave a laugh. “The man can’t even go to the grocery store for milk without writing it down.”

  “Why do I have to talk to the police? Did you hear something about Ian? That fireman said they didn’t find anyone inside.” She stared into the dark depths of Frank’s eyes, hoping for reassurance.

  “No, I don’t know any more about him than you do. Talking to the police is just routine. As the owner of the house, they would’ve talked to you tonight.”

  “Except you swept me away.”

  “Yes.” He gave her arms a firm squeeze. “Why don’t you sit back down and tell us about the last time you saw your brother?”

  Satisfied with his answers, she let him help her onto the couch and took another big drink of the tea he placed back in her shaking hands. She closed her eyes, thinking back to the last time she’d seen her brother. “It was last Friday. I was packing to go on a shoot, running a bit late, and the taxi was on its way. I’d called for a pickup. It’s so much easier than trying to find a spot in long-term parking.”

  “You were heading to Vermont, for the fashion shoot in the woods?”

  Her eyes snapped open.

  He gave her a silent nod.

  He’d remembered.

  “Yes. I had to go, so I told him he could stay while I was gone.” She paused, remembering her warning to him. I’m serious, Ian. Don’t trash my home like you did last time.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, really. It’s just the last time I’d left him alone in my house, he left it a pigsty. My last words to him before I got in the taxi was to not trash it again.” She snorted out a derisive laugh. “Guess he didn’t just trash it this time.”

  “I’m sure it was just an accident, and your brother is just fine,” Sami said, patting her on the hand laying in her lap.

  “I hope so. I pray the police don’t have worse news for me when I get there tomorrow.” Despite the other woman’s kind words, the odd feeling something wasn’t quite right with Ian the last time he visited settled on her.

  “Is there anything else you remember? Like where your brother had been or maybe where his next assignment might be?” Jake asked.

  Suddenly tired, and tired of answering questions that only led to more questions, she let out a loud yawn.

  “That’s enough questions tonight, you two,” Sami said, standing and taking the mug from Sydney’s hands. “She needs to rest. Is there someone you can stay with? Family?”

  “She’s staying here,” Castello stated before she could reply.

  “I can get a hotel,” she said, struggling to her feet again. “I may not have a home, but I have money.”

  “Don’t argue. There’s a guest room here.” He said, coming to stand in front of her.

  She had to squint and raise her head to get a good look at him. “If I refuse, what will you do? Hold my cameras hostage again?”

/>   He didn’t answer, just quirked that one eyebrow upward again. He had a habit of doing that.

  She started to take a step around him and felt woozy.

  “How much whiskey?”

  “Enough.” Once more he scooped her up in his arms.

  “That’s cheating to get your way,” she muttered, resting her head on his shoulder, eyes closed.

  “We’ll see ourselves out,” Jake said from behind them and she swore she heard laughter in his voice.

  “Not funny.”

  “Not in the least.” Castello’s chest rumbled beneath her ear.

  She liked the sound. She liked the feel of his arms around her, and the warmth of his body against hers as he carried her up the stairs. Secure. Safe.

  Something she hadn’t felt since she was a child.

  “I’m not sleeping with you.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  He adjusted his hold on her. She opened her eyes long enough to see him pull back the quilt and sheets. Then he set her on the bed. She toppled onto her side, barely registering that he knelt in front of her and took off her shoes before pulling the covers up to her chin.

  * * * * *

  “Whatever possessed him to just bring her to his house?” Sami asked as they walked to their SUV parked behind Castello’s in the driveway.

  “He said he acted on instinct after the house exploded,” Jake said, squeezing his wife’s hand a little tighter. “He doesn’t know anything about her other than Luke and Abby vouched for her. That and his Spidey-sense is bugging him to keep her close.”

  “The infamous Edgars male Spidey-sense?” Sami stopped, holding his hand tight and forcing him to stop and look at her. She had a grin on her face.

  Jake shook his head at his wife. “Uh-uh, Samantha. Don’t go there.”

  Her grin deepened. “Don’t go where? That our big gruff Marshall might be in bigger trouble than he ever imagined?”

  Jake pulled her in close and gave her a quick, hot kiss. “Don’t read more into this than a highly-trained professional tuning into a situation that would normally have him protecting someone.”

  “If you say so,” she said, her eyes twinkling in the moonlight.