CHAPTER 7
Ezra handed Jill a box of tissues. "I'm afraid we are quite in the dark, my dear. Do you think you could elucidate this sudden epiphany?"
"Wh . . . what?"
"How do you know this is from your dad?" Josiah explained.
She smiled faintly. "The jelly beans. My dad used to call me Jilly Bean all the time. I finally got him to stop doing it in public when he yelled it out picking me up from school one day. Oh my god, it was totally humiliating. But he still does it, you know, when it's just the two of us, to annoy me and stuff." She coughed and blew her nose.
"And the note?" Josiah prompted.
"It's from his favorite movie, The Princess Bride. He doesn't like to admit that it's his favorite, but I know it is 'cause he always wants to watch it. Anyway, Westley would always say it to Buttercup, but what he really meant was . . . was . . ." The girl was too choked up to continue.
Chris finished, "I love you."
Everyone in the team except Buck looked at him in surprise.
"What?"
"And how'd ya know that, Cowboy?"
Buck answered, "It was Sarah's favorite movie."
"Yeah. I've probably seen that movie a hundred times," Chris grumbled. He blinked away the tears that suddenly appeared. If the men noticed, no one said anything.
"How did he get in here?" JD asked.
"Had to be after Chris and I left."
The girl suddenly jumped off the bed. "Oh my God! He might still be here. I have to go find him!" She would have flown out of the room, if Vin didn't block the door.
"I'm afraid we can't let you do that."
"But I've got to find my dad! Let me out!" She tried to shove the sharpshooter of the way, but he wouldn't budge. She started to hit his chest with her fists.
"Jill, calm down and listen." Josiah held her arms, so she couldn't hit Vin anymore. "It may not be safe for you out there."
She continued to struggle, but couldn't free herself from the profiler's gentle hold. Tears of frustration fell from her eyes. "Please. I have to find him. I have to tell him I'm sorry. It's all my fault. Please." She finally gave up her battle, falling across him and crying and coughing into his shirt.
The rest of the men watched sadly as Josiah sat down with her on the edge of the bed, putting his arm around her shoulders. Buck knelt down in front of her. "Darlin', none of this is your fault."
"But it is!" she exploded. "I . . ." She didn't finish, instead started crying anew.
Chris decided this had gone on too long. "How is it your fault?"
He was about to repeat the question when Jill started to talk. "I . . . should've called him. To tell him I was leaving work early. He was going to pick me up when I was done. I thought . . . I thought I'd just take the bus home, but . . . I didn't have enough money. And my stupid phone was dead. I should've gone back to Mr. D's and . . . call my dad. But I didn't . . . didn't want to wait, I just wanted to go home. So, . . . I started walking."
She took a deep shuddering breath and started to pull on her necklace. The men waited silently for her to continue. "I went about half a block . . . when this car pulled up. A guy . . . he asked if I wanted a ride . . ."
She looked up at Chris, tears still on her face. "I know you're not supposed to get rides from strangers. I know that. Dad's been telling me that forever. But he knew my name, said . . . said he was a friend of my dad's and he flashed a badge . . . I think it was a badge . . . and I was so tired . . . and my head hurt . . . and he looked okay . . . and . . ." She started coughing.
Vin passed a cup of water over Buck's shoulder to her. She took a small sip. She looked around to the rest of the team. "I must've fallen asleep, 'cause the next thing I knew, we were pulling into this big building. The guy pulled me out of the car. I think . . . I hit him with my bag and started to run. But he grabbed my arm and pulled hard. Like really hard. I . . . ended up on the ground. Then I saw some other guys coming. I . . . I started screaming and kicking, but . . . he wouldn't let go . . . I think he hit me. I don't remember . . . I felt so sick . . . I couldn't stay awake . . . cold and . . . couldn't breathe." She looked back at Chris. "Then I saw you." She leaned tiredly into Josiah, who took the cup from her trembling hands.
"Your nightmares?" Nathan asked. "You've been remembering what happened."
She sniffled. "But I keep seeing my dad there. He . . . he won't help me . . . he keeps saying . . . that it's all my fault . . . I was stupid . . . that he was going to lose his job . . . 'cause of me . . . oh God, he's gonna hate me!" She broke down, hysterically crying into Josiah's side.
The profiler pulled her into an embrace. "Oh child, none of this is your fault."
"But it is! I should have walked away," the girl insisted. She started to pull on her necklace and coughing.
Chris knelt down next to Buck. "Jill, listen to me. From what you told us, those men were specifically after you. They came to your job. They knew your name and that your father was a cop. This was not some random crime. You were a target and they were going to take you, one way or another."
He tried not to react to the shock in her eyes. He knew he had to be blunt, to get the truth through her guilt. He watched her face as she took in what he said. He just hoped that she wouldn't ask . . .
"But why? Why me?" she mumbled.
Damn. Chris looked to Josiah for help with this one. Should he tell her that her father might be a dirty cop, working for the mob?
Luckily, Ezra stepped up. "My dear Ms. Carlisle, I am afraid that is a query for the miscreants in question. You can be assured that they are capable individuals who are currently conducting an investigation into your circumstance."
Buck squinted up at Ezra from the floor. "What was that again, Ez?"
Ezra rolled his eyes. "Really Mr. Wilmington, I would think at your age you would have some rudimentary understanding of your native language."
"Now, what was that?" Buck sneaked a wink at the girl, who smiled. "Do you understand what he's saying?"
She nodded.
"Well, that's official. I'm hiring you on as my official Ez translator."
Vin whistled. "That there's a full-time job. She may wanna think 'bout it first."
Josiah smiled at his teammates. He could feel Jill slowly relaxing under his arm. The tension and guilt that had building up over the past few days were finally out in the open.
Chris recognized what his men were doing too. As agents in a high-risk profession, he knew the benefits of letting go and finding humor in the little moments. But there was a time and a place for that, and right now he wanted to talk to his team. Clearing his throat to get everyone's attention, he said, "How about we head out so Jill can take that shower before the doctors change their minds?"
Jill's eyes widened. "You're not leaving, right? I mean, . . . can't you stay?"
Josiah squeezed her shoulders. "We'll just be in the hall, so you can have some privacy."
"Oh, all right. Are you still willing to wash my hair for me, Mr. Standish?"
"Of course, my dear. It would be my pleasure to be of service again."
All the men except Josiah left the room. Jill had asked him to put her hair up while she took the shower. He also helped her adjust the water temperature.
When he stepped into the hallway, he immediately noticed Chris staring down Ezra and Vin. "All right, Josiah's here now so quit stalling and tell me what the hell you found in the apartment." Nathan, Buck, and JD were watching, staying out of the line of fire.
Vin looked at the undercover agent and gestured for him to speak.
"No, Mr. Tanner. I must insist you go first."
Chris growled, "Someone better start talking now."
"Well, ya see Chris, 'Siah asked us to come for a visit today, so Ez thought it'd be nice to git the kid some of her things. We got the address for her place from the research JD did and headed there this mornin'."
Ezra picked up the story. "Once we convinced the landlord of our honorable intentions and displayed our credentials, he was more than accommodating. We entered the residence legally, in case you were worried about that."
"It may have been legal, but damn it, the man's under investigation. You two poking your heads around there is getting us involved!"
Buck cleared his throat. "Um, Pard, I think we're already involved."
Chris turned his glare onto his oldest friend. Buck raised both hands and stepped back. The glare was refocused on the two agents. "Keep talking."
"We made our entry into the abode, which is smaller than Mr. Tanner's hovel . . . no offense . . . and found it to be seemingly undisturbed. No signs of struggle."
"Ez went to the girl's room to git some of her stuff. I checked out the place. It was pretty clear nobody's been there in a while. Food gone bad in the fridge. Lotsa messages on the answering machine."
"You said something about a message downstairs. Did you listen to the answering machine?" Nathan asked.
"Yep. Don't worry, Cowboy, I saved them for the IA boys to take a listen to 'em when they hit the place."
Josiah placed his hand on Chris's shoulder, hoping it was a calming presence to the obviously agitated man. In the least, it would give him an advantage when the profiler would have to keep the man from choking Vin and Ezra.
Ezra continued, "Most of the messages were insignificant: Jill's friends, her employer, the station. But there was one that stood out. A bank representative called to inform Mr. Carlisle of a missed appointment to discuss a small loan."
JD frowned. "What's the big deal about that?"
"Think about it, Mr. Dunne. Why would a man who has been acting as a secret informant for one of the largest crime families in Denver need a loan? People in those position are usually well compensated for their clandestine efforts."
"And you said the apartment was small?" Buck added.
"Yeah. Only one bedroom. There was a pull-out couch in the living room. I reckon that's where the dad sleeps."
"Maybe he's got debts or a gambling problem," the blonde agent murmured doubtfully. He had to admit that this didn't sound like the lifestyle of a dirty cop. Most bought expensive cars, second homes, or took exotic vacations.
"Hey, I could check out his finances, see if I find anything weird," JD offered. "I could hack into . . ."
Chris held up his hand. "I don't want to hear the word 'hack,' kid. Just do it carefully and quietly. I don't want anything trace back to you or us. You can do that, right?"
JD beamed. "Absolutely."
"So this is us not getting involved?"
"Shut up, Buck."