Her Fierce SEAL: Midnight Delta Book 6 (9 page)

“Now I understand who pissed in your Wheaties.”

“Exactly.”

***

F
inn’s first instinct that morning had been to work out to the point of exhaustion as he had for the last three days.  But instead, when he woke up he heard the birds, and rather than grating on his nerves like a jackhammer, it sounded kind of pleasant.  He got up and found he didn’t have to choke down breakfast.  He actually enjoyed the toast—especially the strawberry jam. 

He closed his eyes and gave thanks.  He hated it when he had these dark episodes.  It had been the Angie kiss.  But now he remembered it with something that felt like pleasure.  As soon as he thought about it, he decided he needed a shower and a shave, and then he would call her.

Freshly clothed, sitting on the apartment’s small balcony, he sipped his coffee and made the call.

“Finn,” she cried in welcome.  “I was beginning to think I dreamed you up,” she teased.  Any sense of dread he had felt for taking so long to call was immediately wiped away.

“Hey, sorry I took so long.”

“You’re totally fine.  The reason I left the message is twofold.”  Shit, he hadn’t even checked his messages.  She’d called?

“What are they?” he asked.

“One, I wanted us to visit Dasha.  Then we can discuss my findings.”

“What time?”

“Noon.  Do you want to meet at my office first?”

“I’ll meet you at the park.”  There was a long pause.

“Okay,” she finally said. 

“Did you want me to meet at your office?” 

“No, the park is fine,” she said brightly.  Dammit, what was he missing?  “I’ll see you then.”  She cut the connection.  Somehow he knew he had hurt her feelings. Well, he’d just have to fix it when he saw her.

Next, Finn dialed a familiar number.  It was picked up on the first ring.  He relaxed as soon as he heard his mother’s voice.

“Hello, Mom.”

“It’s about damn time.”  Tears, love and righteous indignation.  God, he loved Evie Crandall.  The woman wouldn’t put up with any man’s shit, even her son’s.

“Finn?  Are you there?”

“I’m here, Mom,” he assured her.

“Dammit, Finn.  Come home.  I thought you would be doing better if you went away for a little bit, but you don’t sound better.”

“I went out on a date,” he said, trying to put some animation into his voice.

“You wouldn’t lie to an old lady, now would you?”  He listened to more than just her words, he listened to her voice.  She was working hard to sound upbeat.  He hated it.

“I don’t know any old ladies to lie to.”

“I’m fifty-two.”

“Mom, you still have the guys in the grocery store hitting on you.”  He heard a small laugh.  It made him feel good. 

“Were you really out on a date?” she asked.

“We were talking about a case.  It probably wasn’t really a date.”

“A case?  What? Are you a lawyer?  Tell me about the woman.  Is she smart?  Is she pretty?  Is she good enough for you?”  Ah, now that was the Evie Crandall he was used to. 

“Mom, I’m trying to help this young girl.  It’s complicated.  I’m working with a private investigator.  She’s the one I went out with.  It was just a one-time thing.  We won’t be going on a date again.”  Wasn’t that a depressing thought?  No more strawberry lip gloss for him.

“You won’t see her again?” Evie asked.

“No, I’ll see her.  I’m seeing her today as a matter of fact.  I just won’t go on another date with her.”  Finn could practically hear his mother thinking.

“Finn honey, can I get a promise from you?”

“Is it important?”

“It is to me,” she said with determination.

“I’ll try, Mom.”

“Don’t hang up for five minutes.  Give me five minutes.  Okay, sweetie?”  Fuck, this was going to be painful.

“All right.”

“I’ve put some things together.  I think I know where your head is at.”  God, he sure as hell hoped not.

“First, there was that bitch Ginger you dated while you were taking those college courses.”  Finn had to work hard not to crush the phone he was holding.  “She made you think that it was your fault she lost the baby.”

“You know the truth.”

“Did I say you could talk yet?” Her voice was sharp.  He shut up.  “Dammit, Finn. She was drinking.  How many times had you begged her to stop drinking while she was pregnant?  It was her fault, not yours!”

“I should have been able to get her to stop–”

“She was a party girl. She had been looking for someone to sink her claws into, and force them to marry her.  She got pregnant on purpose!”

He had never heard his Mom so vehement.  Yeah, she had always told him that he wasn’t to blame for Ginger losing the baby.  But this was the first time she told him exactly how she felt about her.

“Mom, I get what you’re saying.  But that was still my son who died.”

“And he was my grandson,” Evie said quietly.  “I mourn for him, and say prayers for him every single day.  But I refuse to let my living son bury himself with him.  Dammit, you did nothing wrong.”

“Your time is almost up.”

“Then there is your latest mission.  I know it was bad because I have had every member of your team come over to my house.  Hell, even Drake is walking on eggshells.  But he’s the easiest.”

“What do you mean?”  Drake damn well better have kept his mouth shut.

“I mean he’s like a mother hen.  He’s so worried about you.  He said you take too much to heart and that if there were such a thing as guilt pie, you would eat the whole thing.  The man really understands you.”

“I understand what I am, and am not, responsible for.”

“No, you really don’t, Finn.  You’ve always thought you were responsible for the Western Hemisphere, and you’re not.  You need to be more like Declan.  Now that boy will try to fix the Western Hemisphere, but he knows he’s not responsible for it, and if it’s fucked up, it wasn’t his fault.”

In his almost thirty years of life, he had never heard his mom drop the F-Bomb.

“So to sum things up Finn, because I’ve been keeping track of time, you are a good man.  There has been some crap that has been shoved your way, but I need you to stop feeling like you were responsible for it.  You weren’t.  You are a good man.  You are a good man.”  Oh God, she was crying.

“Mom.”

“I’ve got to go, honey.  Please think about what I’ve said.  I’m begging you.”

“I will, Mom.”

––––––––

F
inn strode across the grass towards the picnic benches.  The others hadn’t noticed his arrival, which amazed Angie.  How could they not?  Finn’s presence was so formidable, she fantasized that the oak trees swayed toward him as he walked by.

“He’s got your motor running, doesn’t he girly?” her grandfather’s tone was kind and loving.

“He does.  But he has some demons he has to work through.”

“I’ve seen it before,” Pops agreed.  She looked into his dark knowing eyes.

“What?  What have you seen?”

“His kind of wounds.”  Then Finn was standing in front of her, and all of her attention was on him.  He was wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans.  He gave a small tilt of his head, and she followed him away from the table.

“Is everything okay?  Anything I need to know?” he asked.

“I wanted to run something past you.  If my suspicions are correct, we need to question Dasha because something is wrong.”

She could tell she had his full attention.  “Okay, what is it?”

“I hate how this sounds.  But I hate even more that I’m probably right.  This particular auction house they had going on in British Columbia was high-end, wasn’t it?”

Finn thought back to the mansion and the endless stream of exotic sports cars.  “Definitely.”

“Then I think I might be right about what was going on up in Canada. I think the girls they used to breed weren’t as attractive as the ones they sold as sex slaves.  I went through the pictures, and there was a trend.  I feel like a vicious bitch for noticing it.  But I’m pretty sure I’m right.”

Finn didn’t flinch, she could see him mulling over what she said.  “You’re right.”

“Except for Dasha.  She’s the one fly in the ointment.” Angie said.

Finn’s gaze flickered over to the girl sitting next to her uncle.

“Albert would have sold her to a client, not used her to breed.”  His face looked like it was carved from granite.

“Can you help me out a little?”  Angie stroked her hand down his arm. His flinch was barely perceptible, but then he relaxed.

“What can I do?”

“Rylie’s notes were really vague on how the girls were impregnated.”  She let her voice drift off.

“They were artificially inseminated.  They were trying to produce specific types of babies, blue-eyed blondes, etc.”

“So why would they have chosen to breed Dasha instead of selling her at the auction?” Angie asked.

“Oh God, she must have been raped, and  gotten pregnant,” he answered quickly.  Angie could see how the whole conversation ate at him.  But it was important.  She smoothed her hand along his arm until she could twine her fingers with his and squeezed.  He looked into her eyes and she saw a moment of relief.

“I read Rylie’s reports.  Every one of those girls who was getting ready to be sold was given a birth control injection.”  His shoulders sagged.  “Dasha must have been pregnant before the Liu’s ever got ahold of her.”

“So what are you saying?” he asked in a whisper, again glancing over at the girl.

“There is one more piece of information I got from Pops.  It’s not the US government Dasha is hiding from.  She’s trying to avoid anybody attached to the Ukrainian Embassy.”

Finn tugged her hand.  “Walk with me.”

Holding this man’s hand, and walking in one of her favorite places made this conversation easier.  He let go of her hand, and before she could quell her disappointment, he put his arm around her shoulders and brought her in close to his body.  She rested her head against his shoulder.

“You always smell like strawberries.”

“I love strawberries.  If there is a strawberry shampoo, lotion, or lip gloss, I use it.”  His fingers trailed along her shoulder.

“I’m beginning to love strawberries, too.  I’m sorry I was M.I.A.  Sometimes, I need time to get my head together.”

“I think I understand.”

He looked up into the trees that provided a lacy silhouette against the blue sky.  “So Dasha was pregnant before she left the Ukraine.  She probably fell for one of those ‘Be a Model’ or ‘Be a Nanny’ scams.  She must be running from someone.  Someone with clout with the Ukrainian government.”

“Probably the father of her baby,” Angie guessed.

“Probably.”

“Hell, how do we get her to confide in us?”  Angie blew out a frustrated breath making her hair fly up.  He watched as it drifted back into place.

“If she hasn’t told you so far, I’m not sure she’s going to.  Hell, she hasn’t even told her uncle.  Maybe I can get it out of her.”

“I don’t see how.”  She scowled.

“Unfortunately, working with less than cooperative witnesses is part of the job.”

“It’s mine too.  Let me do this.”  Something told her that he didn’t need any more scars on his soul.

“If my way doesn’t work, you can bat clean-up.”  He rubbed a circle on her shoulder trying to soothe, trying to coax.

She turned and looked at him.  “Seriously, let me try first.”

“No.”  His tone brooked no argument.  Looking at him, Angie had no doubt that one day he would be leading a whole contingent of men.

“Okay,” she acquiesced.

***

T
hey walked back to the picnic table, and Pops looked up from his chess game and grinned from ear-to-ear.  It took Finn a split second to figure out what the hell was going on, then it dawned on him, the man thought that he and his granddaughter were an item.  Dammit.  He was going to have to set him straight, and quickly.

“Dasha, we need to talk.”  The girl looked fragile and worn sitting next to her big Ukrainian uncle. 

“You have information?” Her eyes gleamed with interest.

“No.  I
need
information.  Who is Yulia’s father?”  Her eyes bulged. 

“Hey.  Wait just a damn minute–” Finn slashed his hand downwards, cutting off what Sergei was saying.  The man went silent.

Dasha crossed her arms, trying to make herself look small, and shook her head.

“You haven’t told us everything we need to know to save Yulia.”

“I tell everything.”

“No other girl was pregnant before she got to the Liu’s.  No other girl is trying to hide from her government.  You need to tell us who Yulia’s father is.  You need to tell us why you are hiding.”

“I cannot.”

“You must.”  Her big eyes welled with tears.

“No.  You cannot make me.”  She leaned into Sergei, who opened his mouth.  Finn glared at the man, and he closed it.

“Dasha, if you want us to find Yulia...  If you love your daughter.  You will tell us the truth.”

“I love my Yulia!”

She got up from the table and stumbled.  She rushed around it until she stood in front of him.  She grabbed his shirt.

“I sorry.  I can’t tell.  If I tell, I die.  Then Yulia has no mother.  Please don’t make me tell.  Please.  I beg you.”  Tears were falling wildly from her eyes.  The anguish and pleading in her look sucked him in like a whirlpool.  She grabbed both of his cheeks and stared into his eyes.  “Please,” she wailed.

Sweat broke out across his body, nausea roiled, and her features morphed into the girl from the farmhouse.

“No, no, God no,” he choked out.  He pulled her arms away from his face, and she fell backwards. Angie had grabbed her before she reached the ground.  But Finn didn’t see it, he was locked in another place, another time.  He yanked his body away from the picnic bench and then fell onto the grass of the park.  He wasn’t seeing the trees above him, he was in the living room of the damned farmhouse, blue striped wallpaper, and a musty smell.

“Finn!”

He scrambled backwards on the wooden floor.  This time, he was going to take out the other men before they had a chance to abuse the girls.  He wasn’t going to stand idly by and let the innocents be harmed on his watch again.  He yanked up the cuff of his jeans and grabbed the knife from his boot.