CSA Case Files: Campaign of Desire Part 11

"I'm not insecure," Phoebe protested, shaking her head and pulling her chin out of his grasp. "That's not the type of person I am. I can't explain my apprehension, but it has nothing to do with insecurity."

"Let me reiterate," Lach replied, doing his best to get her to see this from his point of view, although knowing she had a pride about her that allowed her to only see things in black and white. "What you experienced last night was subs.p.a.ce. It isn't unusual when a submissive feels what is called a subdrop. Even Dominants can experience it. When you become overcome with a foreboding emotion and can't put your finger on why, contact me. I will do the same."

Lach could see with his claim that Phoebe's tension eased and her pink lips formed a sensual smile that had him thinking of other things she could be doing with that mouth of hers. Again, if he didn't feed them and get them on their way, they'd never leave this apartment.

"Omelets are about ready. Could you get the plates?"

"Yes." Phoebe bit her lip as if she were going to say something else. Would it have been Lach's t.i.tle for when they were conducting a scene? He liked that she was eager and ready. So was he and he ended up turning to the stove so that he could adjust the denim over his hardened c.o.c.k. "Did you get rea.s.signed to another case yet?"

Lach slid the spatula underneath her omelet and placed it on the plate she had in her hand. She held up the other dish and he did the same with his omelet, which had some additional spices to his particular taste. He was glad that she brought up something other than this newfound relationship they'd begun. The last time they'd gotten ready to leave after having s.e.x hadn't gone so well. He was determined that wouldn't happen again.

"Yes." Lach waited until Phoebe had placed both plates onto the counter and took her place on one of the stools. He slid his dish back toward him on the other side, more comfortable standing and facing her. "As a matter of fact, I have a meeting tomorrow morning at zero eight hundred. Today I'm scheduled to help the team go over some information regarding a male subject that we're looking for."

"Is he in trouble?"

"You could say that," Lach answered and then took a bite of his omelet. "You have tight security, so I'm not too worried. I would like you to keep an eye out for a male who is in his mid-forties, European in his manner and speech. Black hair. He goes by the name of Ryland. His tastes run on the rather higher end, so he'd easily be able to fit into your social circles. If you notice someone that fits that description, point him out to any member of your detail. They have photos of the suspect and they're aware of the threat. I'll also bring a picture by so that you know exactly who to look for."

"I'll try not to take that as an insult." Phoebe smiled over the rim of her mug, indicating that she was going to have fun with his statement and he knew exactly which one. She was referring to Ryland's social preferences. "I'm rather confused that you lump me and my family in with the higher end of society like we're some kind of sn.o.bs. You realize that my parents started out with nothing and that they ingrained a strong work ethic in both my sister and me. Regardless, it seems that you have a particular high end taste in coffee and food."

"Hmmm," Lach halfway conceded, letting her gain a point in her favor for acute observation. "My palate that you are referring to comes from having parents who are wine tasters by choice and vineyard owners driven by pa.s.sion. We learned at an early age to tell by a sip of wine not only what country the nectar originated in, but also what region and which various grape varieties were blended together to pollinate the flower that was to become the wine grape. We were also taught to recognize the peak time during veraison of the fruit, in the development of the tannins and phenolics for harvest, picked too early or too late. You're left with rocket fuel after fermentation. So it's not simply what you have a taste for, but when is the best time to appreciate the flavor of the product of your labors."

"That would explain it," Phoebe commented with a raised eyebrow as she placed her cup back down on the granite and picked up her fork. He had obviously belabored his point, her smirk showing that much. She was being a smarta.s.s, but he let it go. Lach was pleased to see that over the last two days of eating properly that she'd gotten her glow back. "Dad, Paul, and their entourage are off to another state, but should be back early next week."

"You're not going?" Lach was surprised, since he knew it had been on her docket.

"There's a donor who wanted to discuss some things with me in person, so I rearranged my schedule to meet with her around ten o'clock today." Phoebe finished off her omelet and then wiped her mouth with a napkin that he'd just handed her. "I've had appointments with this woman before and she tends to be a bit of a talker, so I'm sure we'll end up going to lunch at Manny's Steakhouse."

"Well, considering you're going to one of the finest establishments in the Twin Cities, I guess I don't need to worry about you not eating at lunch." Lach cleared the plates, rinsed them, and put them into her dishwasher. Phoebe watched him the entire time, her blue eyes turning to the dark sapphire color he loved. If she kept staring at him that way, she sure as h.e.l.l wouldn't be having meetings today. "Are you free for dinner?"

"Dinner?" Phoebe picked up her mug and watched him closely as he finished wiping down the counter. "I was hoping you were going to ask me if I was free for the entire night."

"Really?" Lach asked, laughing at the way she'd tried to take control of the day. He didn't have it in him to play games, and honestly, he didn't want to. This thing between them was becoming too important. "As a matter of fact, that was my next question. Oh, and don't worry about picking out a corset. I'll have one with me when I arrive here tonight."

"You're buying me a corset?" Surprise laced Phoebe's tone, yet he also caught the pleased smile as she hopped off of the stool. "I've never had anyone buy me something of that nature before."

"You'll experience a lot of firsts with me." Lach waited until she'd come around the counter and into the heart of the kitchen to broach a subject that he wasn't so sure what her answer to would be. It was going to be interesting to watch her reaction to something so personal. "I do have a question for you."

"And what would that be, Mr. McKinnon?" Phoebe ran her hands up and around his leather holster that he'd secured onto his chest after getting dressed. "I'm sure I have an answer."

"A friend of mine is having a birthday party for his one year old son. Jax and Emily had postponed it for a couple of weeks so that we could make the transition over to the Secret Service agents." Lach was pleased to see that Phoebe was a little speechless, her pretty pink lips parted ever so slightly. Keeping her off guard and making her life spontaneous was all part of his job. "It's this Sat.u.r.day at one o'clock. I was wondering if you'd like to join me."

"Is this the same man who was working with you on finding out who was threatening my father?" Phoebe had slid her fingers under the leather straps and held them tight, as if to anchor herself. Lach couldn't help but notice she'd evaded answering by asking a question herself. "Are they going to mind you bringing a guest, especially one that has an armed agent following her every move?"

"To answer your first question, yes, Jax helped with the investigation. Two, they won't mind and I will probably get an endless supply of ribbing by bringing you, but it's worth it. And to reply to the question you didn't ask, my team members don't think less of you because your family is struggling with the issues of your father's career. Your sister's conduct won't be brought up either."

Phoebe didn't reply right away, but Lach could clearly see that she was digesting what he'd said. He reminded himself that she was raised differently and that opinions mattered to her, although only up to a point. It was the end result that was vital and she would only know the outcome of this meet and greet if she were to go with him. He didn't doubt that Lauren, Emily, Elle, Jessie and Taryn would make her feel like part of the group.

"Yes, I would be honored to go with you." Phoebe stood on her tiptoes and wrapped one hand around Lach's neck, pulling him toward her. He felt her fingers slip into his hair at the same time her tongue traced his bottom lip. Her need for some control was evident but his inner dominance warred against it and won when he grabbed both of her wrists and held them behind her. He was rewarded with a gasp and the shift in color of her eyes. "Sir?"

"Very good," Lach murmured against her lips, taking pleasure that Phoebe took his cue of when he placed her in the submissive role. "After your meeting today, I want a list of soft and hard limits. Things that you would like to experience, things that you are on the fence of, and of course...those things that you would absolutely not consider, come h.e.l.l or high water."

"Yes, Sir."

Phoebe had the audacity to actually bite his lower lip, and although it had been done gently, Lach had no doubt she'd done it to elicit a reaction. Needing to see how she responded to his feedback to her baiting, he used her wrists to pull her closer to him and gave a quick but firm tap on her a.s.s. Her quick inhalation and the whip of her head to connect their gazes was all the answer he needed.

"Until tonight."

Chapter Twenty.

As Phoebe had spent the last hour and a half talking to Ms. Adler, she was reminded why she hated this part of her job with the Crescent Foundation. There was nothing satisfying in negotiating over money when her time could be spent helping others in the ways that mattered. She had to remind herself almost every five minutes that this contribution to her father's campaign would give her dad the b.u.mp he needed. It didn't help that every other second she was thinking of what to put on the list Lach had requested. After last night, there were numerous things she'd like to put on her wish list.

"Would you like to go to lunch, dear?"

"Yes, of course," Phoebe answered, knowing all along how this meeting would end. "Please let me use the ladies' room to powder my nose and then I'll be ready."

Ms. Adler gave a smile of delight as she sat in front of Phoebe's father's desk. She'd used his office for privacy and although the meeting had gone longer than she expected, lunch was always a requirement with Ms. Adler. Not really needing to use the restroom, Phoebe rose from her dad's chair and excused herself from the office. Closing the door behind her, she sighed in relief and started to walk down the short hallway when Stewart called out to her.

"Ms. Dunaway?"

"Yes, Stewart?" Phoebe asked, turning around and not all that unhappy with the intrusion. It would delay Ms. Adler by a few more minutes, but that was perfectly fine by Phoebe. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, the phone calls are particularly productive today." Stewart adjusted his tie, which was never on quite straight anyway, but Phoebe was coming to like the young man. She'd thought in the beginning that he was just here to please his father, and honestly, be a slacker. He had proved his dedication and work ethic. "I wanted you to know I spoke with Hannah."

"How is she?"

"She'd gone out of town to visit one of her aunts, but she's doing fine." The way Stewart shifted his body gave away his need to ask a question. Phoebe waited silently, mentally smiling when he continued. She could see why Lach used that technique and was thinking of adopting it herself. "Hannah understands why she can't work the campaign and is taking your advice about concentrating on her studies. She's still hoping to be in politics, regardless of her father's behavior, and was wondering if you would write a letter of recommendation for her."

"Hannah knows that she needs to stay away from the larger campaigns, right? If she volunteers for a smaller run, for say mayor, she can eventually work her way up. It will be a tough haul and she'll undoubtedly be questioned time and again, but if she's willing to put in the effort...then yes, I will write her a recommendation."

"Thank you," Stewart said in relief. "I'll let her know and it will definitely make her day."

Phoebe watched as he walked back into the bullpen, knowing full well that Stewart had a thing for Hannah. The boy's father was certainly not going to be happy with that turn of events, especially considering that he was a U.S. Senator himself. Having grown up in this life, she knew full well what happened when either she or her sister brought home someone that had the potential of damaging the Dunaway name. She hoped for Stewart's sake that he was prepared for the same reaction.

Glancing at the office door, Phoebe smothered another sigh, this one in resignation. Lunch would probably go on for two hours and then she had five hours of work that she'd love to get done in three. Lach was bringing her home a gift in the form of a corset and she couldn't wait to see what style, fabric, and color that he chose. As she closed the restroom door behind her, she wondered if Ms. Alder would notice her lack of attention. She had no doubt that her mind would be on the lists that she was supposed to be creating.

Lach rubbed his eyes, absolutely hating this part of the job. At least Taryn and Ethan were out of the office, allowing someone else to make the coffee. Kevin, Jax, and Connor had joined him at the conference table about an hour prior. The intelligence they were going over had been written by innocuous a.n.a.lysts in one government agency or another, although he wasn't able to determine based on its contents if the reports were favors owed to Crest or if the government was actually trying to locate Ryland on their own. The man did escape from federal prison, but according to the names at the bottom of these doc.u.ments, the search went higher up than even Lach would have considered applicable.

Instead of focusing on the official reports, Lach had decided to go back through Yvette Capre's past. Everyone knew that she was an integral part of the investigation, but with the woman only existing on paper for ten years, it was difficult to uncover her real ident.i.ty. The only one true aspect that they were aware of was that Yvette Capre was related to Taryn. The questions of how, why, and to what end this actually meant for Ryland were abundant.

"Pizza's here," Jessie announced, carrying in three boxes from Pizza Luce, the local favorite pizza place. It didn't take long for them to relieve her of the cardboard cartons. "Use paper plates. I don't want to have to clean up the d.a.m.n mess."

"You heard her," Crest said, walking into the room and right over to the counter where Jessie always kept the paper items well stocked. "We're not heathens, gentlemen."

"So you say," Jessie muttered as she turned on her heel and walked back to her desk.

Jax either coughed or laughed, it was impossible to say, while the rest of them opened the lids and dug in, catching plates thrown by Crest. Lach needed to stretch his legs, so he took his dish with a couple of slices of pizza on it and walked over to his cubicle. Taking out his phone, he checked on the text he'd sent earlier. Sure enough, Lauren had sent him a picture of the corset he'd ordered yesterday. She was a sweetheart and put his request to the front of the line. The corset she'd adorned with gems looked stunning and the sapphires would match the color of Phoebe's eyes. He couldn't wait until he saw the look on her face when he presented it to her.

Lach shoved his phone back inside his front denim pocket and then took a bite of his lunch. The zesty Italian flavor was exactly the way he liked it, but his break didn't last long. Crest was calling for Lach to return to the table. He really couldn't wait for the new case to start tomorrow morning.

"What do you have?" Lach asked, coming around the corner of his cubicle.

"Ethan called this morning." Crest was sitting at the table, the papers having been pushed aside to make room for his lunch. He'd tucked his tie inside his shirt and was wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Taryn's trip up north was a bust, so they're heading back tomorrow after she visits an elderly aunt who resides in a local nursing home."

"Any chance the older woman would know something?" Kevin asked around a large bite of food. Lach finished off his two slices before reaching in between Jax and Connor to where the pizza loaded with meat sat with only two pieces left. Lach grabbed both before walking back around the table and reluctantly taking a seat. He wondered if Phoebe had written her list yet or if she was still at Manny's Steakhouse. "Coming from a large family, the older generation is a wealth of information."

"Taryn was told that her aunt's health had declined rapidly and that she was bedridden-sleeping most of the time and when she is awake, not so coherent." Crest polished off his serving and then turned another box his way. "If Taryn's mother's side of the family knows who Yvette Capre is they aren't letting on."

"Her father's family lives where?" Connor asked, getting up from the table and grabbing a soda from the small fridge. When Jax whistled and held up his hands, Connor threw the can. He made additional tosses and then he finally s.n.a.t.c.hed one for himself. "Wisconsin, right?"

"Some are located down in Texas," Crest replied, finally leaning back in his chair. "Taryn and Ethan will take a trip down there next."

Lach threw his unfinished slice of pizza back onto his plate. Texas rang a bell and he scanned through a few papers until coming upon the one that might just be lead they were all looking for. Sure enough, Texas was the state he'd seen on a credit card.

"Taryn's family wouldn't happen to be from Houston, would they?" Lach looked at the paperwork that Taryn had printed out for them regarding Capre's timeline while she'd been alive. "We know according to the few doc.u.ments that have surfaced Yvette came into existence ten years ago, and who we figure was molded by Ryland to enter the life as a hired a.s.sa.s.sin. Right?"

"This is the most confusing bulls.h.i.t," Jax muttered, pushing his plate away and throwing his napkin down with disgust. "Ryland has got his fingers in practically all of our lives."

"There is no doubt that Taryn is at the heart of it." Crest held out his hand for the paper that Lach was holding. "Are you telling me that we overlooked something as simple as a logistics connection?"

"No," Lach replied, shaking his head. He dispensed the doc.u.ment to Crest before looking for another. "Not necessarily. Taryn supplied us with all the bank and credit card statements of Capre. I mapped out the path she took from California, which is where the name Yvette Capre originated in, to New York. She must have taken a scenic route with a goal in mind, but there's a reason why the trail never connected to Texas."

"There is no reason good enough." Crest rose from his seat and with the credit card statement in hand.

"Yvette had a habit of using specific credit cards on specific a.s.signments," Lach said, carrying on the conversation anyway. He understood where Crest was coming from, yet it didn't change the fact that the information wasn't uncovered until now. "I was looking over the charges today and it wasn't until you mentioned Texas that something clicked. Look at this statement."

Lach stood as well, handing over a piece of paper that was most likely a solid lead in a ma.s.s of flops. He hoped like h.e.l.l it was, because this cat and mouse game between the team and Ryland had overrun its time limit. Lach missed the days of mundane a.s.signments and being able to attend Masters on a regular basis. Having Phoebe in his life just fortified his need to see this investigation closed so that he could enjoy his personal life without an overhanging threat. Fortunately, he had something for his woman that the rest of them didn't have-a twenty-four hour Secret Service agent.

"Capre used a separate credit card for one charge only on her way to New York...that happened to be on a stop near Houston, Texas. It appears she purposefully used a different card than the one she was utilized for the trip. The dates match up. The question is why would Capre do that."

Jax and Connor folded up their plates and tossed them into the trash while Kevin went to his cubicle to roll out the large whiteboard he liked to use when mapping out investigations. f.u.c.k, but it was going to be a long day ahead if they were going to retrace ten years' worth of a.s.signments that Capre had taken.

"Let me know what else you uncover," Crest replied, walking back towards his office. "I'll contact Taryn and Ethan. We need to find out why Capre made that pit stop and if it in any way involved Taryn's father's side of the family. Good work."

Lach wasn't the kind to respond to pats on the back and knew that Crest hadn't said those last two words as such either. Any one of them could have found that lead. It just happened to be this morning and it happened to be him. It was what it was. Thinking of the saying that he'd come to a.s.sociate with his life, his thoughts turned to Phoebe. He needed to send her a text message that he might be late tonight, although she should wait up for him. He had a gift to give her and he wouldn't allow anything to get in the way of the evening he had planned.

"Let's get this over with."

Chapter Twenty-One.

Phoebe couldn't remember the last time she'd ever felt so relaxed. Holding her half-finished gla.s.s of a delightfully sweet Leoville Barton 2010, she gave a contented sigh as she leaned back against Lach's chest. It was just the two of them with no pressure from the outside world. They each had worked late and were sprawled out on the couch, the lights dimmed so they could appreciate the city scene outside the large window wall. Snow was being blown from the patios as if letting them know just how comfortable they were inside the warm apartment. They'd spent the evening sharing stories of their childhood and getting to know one another on a more intimate level. She'd delayed some important work that she hadn't finished due to her luncheon with Ms. Alder, but being here with Lach like this was well worth any amount of work she'd have to do tomorrow.

"Do you still keep in contact with the men from your unit?"

"One. Vic Hartigan," Lach replied, humor in every crevice of his tone. It was clear that he only had good thoughts when it came to his friend and comrade. "I see him probably once a year and every time I end up keeping his a.s.s from getting arrested. I'm closer to some college buddies of mine, although the majority of them still live near my parents."

"How often do you get back there?"

"Holidays, mostly." Lach's chest vibrated with emotion every time he spoke of his family. Phoebe still had a hard time thinking of him with parents and siblings, yet the more she got to know him, she was coming to understand why he was so quiet. He'd been the peacemaker among everyone, similar to how she was with her sister and father. "Since I didn't get out there this past Christmas, I'll make sure I make a trip this summer."

"You could have gone," Phoebe said, trying to tilt her head up to see Lach's expression, but he tightened his thighs around hers to keep her in place. Even to her, the words rang hollow. She figured Crest wouldn't have allowed time off during such a significant a.s.signment as protecting the daughter of a U.S. Senator, but that didn't mean she couldn't feel guilt over what her detail had done to his personal life. "Another agent could have taken your position for a couple of days."

"That's not how the team works and you know it," Lach replied, placing a tender kiss upon her head. "Remember, Miss Socialite, I knew what I signed up for when I went to work for Crest. There are some cases that I can sink my teeth into and there are others that just have to be done."

"You've told me about your tour in the Marines and your time at UC Davis, but how did you join the FBI?" Phoebe pushed aside the sliver of hurt at his words, knowing that the detail her father had requested was probably on the end of where a case just had to be done. She tried not to take it too personally. "Was that something that you'd always wanted?"

"I was recruited by them halfway through my senior year. The FBI tend to employ heavily from specific colleges and UC Davis happens to be one of them." Lach had joined her for a gla.s.s of her favorite wine and he seemed to appreciate the unique rich flavor of this powerful Bordeaux. He took a drink of his while his fingers on his other hand stroked her hair in a relaxing fashion, but with his follow up sentence she figured it was to distract her. "Then I ended up with CSA."

"You always seem to skip over that part," Phoebe said, casually pointing out the obvious. She knew Lach was well aware that he did too. What she wanted to do was turn so she could see his features, but she knew that if she did, their evening would undoubtedly take a turn that had to do with what she a.s.sumed was her brand new corset inside the white linen wrapped box near her front door. She definitely wanted that, but needed to know more about him. She fortified herself with another sip and pushed him a little harder. "Is there a specific reason you left the Bureau?"

"Have you ever made a decision that you knew was the right choice in regards to protocol, yet in your gut you knew that you should have done something different?" Lach's voice gave the indication that he was far away from where they were and everything became still as she listened. "I was faced with a tough choice during a hostage negotiation. I took the wrong path."

Phoebe could feel the tension radiating from Lach's body as he shared what must have been a life altering moment. She wanted him to continue more than anything, yet she was afraid this would ruin the rapport they had established. She ran a finger around the rim of her gla.s.s, contemplating on her next words and hoping that he would eventually share a piece of what clearly affected him after all of these years. Surprisingly enough, he took the decision out of her hands.

"You know those days when you wake up and feel that you're invincible?" Lach placed his wine gla.s.s on the coffee table and reached for the bottle. He poured what was left into her gla.s.s, although she was relatively sure he was the one that needed it most. "I'd proven myself time and time again in negotiating with hostage takers and making sure that the victims were released unharmed. There was an occasional hiccup, but nothing that shook my faith in my training or abilities. I'd made the right decisions at the right times when the chips were down."

"I'm a.s.suming you mean in regards to protocol?" Phoebe asked, keeping her voice as soft as she could.

"The FBI has spent billions of dollars perfecting those protocols and they work for a reason. Although people are vastly different, when exposed to certain stimuli their reactions are usually the same given certain variables." Lach picked up his wine gla.s.s and downed the contents. She'd noticed that he only had one gla.s.s this evening while she'd pretty much drunk the rest of the expensive bottle. It had been over such a long span she really didn't feel the effects of the alcohol. She was grateful for that, as she knew that Lach sharing this moment in his life meant something special and she didn't want to forget a word of it. "There's always an exception, a missed variable."

Lach had said those last few words so quietly, Phoebe wasn't so sure he had. Taking the chance and needing to see his face while he revealed this part of himself, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and propped herself up on the middle cushion. She shifted until she was facing him, her knee resting on his thigh to maintain contact.

"You were faced with that exception?" Phoebe asked, needing him to continue.

"f.u.c.k. It was practically shoved down my throat." Much to Phoebe's disappointment, Lach pulled away and stood. He placed his empty wine gla.s.s on the coffee table and walked to the window. She was afraid he was done and that he would close himself off once more, but he surprised her when he leaned his forehead against the windowpane and kept talking. "It was payday and I'd gone into the bank to make a withdrawal. There'd been a line outside at the ATM. There was this man standing behind me and we struck up a conversation."

Phoebe found that hard to believe, but she remained quiet. She'd been privy to Lach in a social setting, although granted it was work related, and he wasn't p.r.o.ne to chitchat. The other man had to have been the one to initiate an exchange.

"He told me that his wife had fallen ill and that his daughter was just entering college." Lach stared out the window at the snow that was swirling, as if it was creating a movie screen just for his viewing. "I replied with the standard polite comments that a person gave when put in that situation. It wasn't that I hadn't felt bad for the man, but I had been running late for a meeting. Human beings are self-centered that way and I was-am-no exception."

Phoebe knew that if she were to give the standard reply that she was sure everyone else had given, it would make no difference. The world didn't stop turning when tragedy struck one's life. Everyone else's existence continued on as if nothing had happened. She'd witnessed that firsthand when her mother had pa.s.sed away. She felt sorry the man had been going through a terrible time in his life, but she was also certain that there had been nothing Lach could have said to make it any better.