Beginning: A PAVAD Prequel Novella (PAVAD: FBI Romantic Suspense) by Calle J. Brookes Read Free Book Online

arms.
    “Was Gretta hurt? She’s a friend.”
    “More like hopping mad, according to Georgia.”
    “Was anything taken?” Her voice was tight, and her hands wrapped around the cotton of his shirt.  
    “No. Georgia and Mal are meeting us at the Illinois line as soon as we can get there. Better wake the director.”
    “You need some sleep.”
    “I’ll sleep while you drive.”
    Dennis sat up and looked around. Royal filled him in on the changed situation, and Dennis agreed. They moved quickly, getting dressed, checking out—it was nothing they hadn’t done a thousand times before in the jobs they all had. None of them really spoke, either.
    Royal settled into the back seat, knowing that while he’d rest his eyes, there was no way in hell he was going to sleep.
    Not with what he was mulling over in his head.
    Something Georgia had said made things just a little bit clearer.

Chapter Fourteen
    LEN drove most of the way. They reached the Illinois border after two and a half hours, sticking mostly to state highways and round about ways. Royal was quiet in the backseat but she knew the man wasn’t sleeping. Ed was just as quiet.
    It gave Len time to think.
    They pulled into Lawrenceville and Ed texted his daughter. “They’re waiting at the McDonalds.”
    “Give me directions.” She followed his instructions and maneuvered the vehicle into the restaurant parking. She recognized the handsome dark-haired man and Ed’s daughter Georgia where they waited inside Agent Brockman’s personal vehicle.
    She parked next to them, while Ed woke Royal.
    Georgia hugged her when she got out of the car. “I’m glad you were with Dad.”
    “What’s going on? Royal wasn’t entirely clear.”
    “Someone broke into your apartment. Your landlady knew you were out of town and she went to investigate. With a ball bat,” Malachi Brockman said. “She was lucky she wasn’t hurt.”
    Len would make a point of calling her friend later. Gretta was one of the few non-FBI friends she had in this city. The idea that the other woman may have been injured worried her. “She’s ok, then?”
    “She managed to scratch the guy across the arm. We’ve got it being processed now. I put my father’s name on it; and I took it to a friend at the police station in your district, Jasmine,” Georgia said. “Just in case. He’s going to call me soon with results.”
    Royal stepped up behind Len, and placed a hand casually on her shoulder. She tried not to stiffen and pull away. Georgia and Malachi were both extremely perceptive people—both were profilers—and she knew Georgia at least would see how nervous Royal was making her.
    And they both knew Royal really well. They’d know he was…
    She made herself think different thoughts. Fast.
    “I think we need to reevaluate,” Royal said. “I’m not so sure the deputy director is the only target.”
    “What makes you say that? The attack was in his garage.”
    “It was. But you were with him. I think the focus has shifted to both of you. Something was said yesterday. You know the specifics of almost every person in the St. Louis field office. That means you have probably seen the reason behind these attacks. And someone searched your desk, and now your home. That means something. Director Dennis’s office wasn’t touched. But yours was. And I’m assuming it’s just as difficult to get into your office as it is his. I’ve been in that part of the building, and I’ve evaluated the security a time or two myself.”
    “So what are you thinking, Agent Royal?”
    “I’m thinking we bait a trap.”
    “How?” Len looked over her shoulder at him. He wasn’t quite as tall as Malachi Brockman, but his shoulders were just as wide. And he was just as muscled—if not more so. His skin was several shades darker, and he had a small trace of beard stubble growing on his chin, whereas Agent Brockman was clean shaven. But they were both highly gorgeous men.
    Attention getting, most