Storm Front (14 page)

She leaned over and kissed the weathered cheek of the man who’d saved her life and her sanity at a time when she’d feared to lose both. “I did. Detective Roebuck of CPD—remember him?—and Detective Wayne in CPD’s Cyber-Crimes division are on this, as is Special Agent Garcia from the FBI.”

The men seemed to grunt with approval in unison. Well, at least, she’d done something right.

Earl, still behind her, squeezed her shoulders.

“The most recent e-mails and, um, images came right before I left Chicago for Sanctuary. The CPD and the FBI already have them. I forwarded them from O’Hare while I waited on my plane. These were an escalation over the previous ones I received. They’re all there, on my laptop, if you want to see the pattern.”

“I looked at them all, Tessa. I found the bastard,” Tweeter spoke up. “I was going to tell the guys about it over breakfast.”

“You have?” she squeaked and stared at Tweeter with shock—and respect. He’d done in less than one day more than the law enforcement types had done in weeks.

Earl’s warm hands massaged the tension from her neck and upper back, calming her immediately.

“Who is he? Where is he?” she asked.

“Eat first, sweetheart, and then we can talk about all this. You need fuel to deal with the remnants of the altitude sickness.” Earl rubbed his cheek over hers. “Do you have contact numbers for the detectives and the Feds? We’ll need those for later.”

“Yes. They should be in my address book on the laptop.”

“I’m on it.” Tweeter typed and moused. “Got them. Earl’s right. We all could use some food before we make plans to nail the mother-fucker. I know I’m starved.”

Loren shoved his brother’s arm. “You’re always hungry, geekazoid, that’s why mom called you her bottomless pit.” Tweeter shoved him back.

Ren laughed. “Stop it, you two.” The leader of SSI looked at Earl. “We gonna let the CPD and the Feds take this guy down or…?”

“Fuck no.” Earl growled and his hands tightened on Tessa’s shoulders. “I’m taking the bastard out. The law can have what’s left of him.”

“No, Earl…” Tessa started to turn to plead with him to let the law handle it, but he stopped her with another squeeze.

“You’re mine. I protect what’s mine. We’ll talk about this after we eat.” He nuzzled and kissed the tip of her ear, and then moved away.

Ren grinned. “Well, looks like Earl and I are on the same page, Tessa. The cops had their chance. And from the way they’ve dragged their feet, I figure they were using you to draw the bastard out on something bigger than cyberstalking. Tweeter found the guy awfully damn fast. And even though the CPD and the FBI might not be at my brother-in-law’s caliber with computers, they aren’t chopped liver either.”

Earl spoke from his place near the stove. “I agree. They’ve got a deeper game going and are using Tessa. The cops have some explaining to do.”

Ren nodded. “My thoughts exactly. But the longer this guy is on the streets, the more he’ll escalate in his stalking of Tessa. We don’t want him making physical contact.”

Tessa shuddered. “No, I don’t want that either.”

Evan hugged her, sharing his warmth and providing comfort. “Bastards. I hope Earl beats the ever-loving shit out of the asshole and reams some cops and Feds new assholes.”

Tessa had to laugh. For Evan to wish violence on anyone and use vulgar language while doing so demonstrated just how upset he was.

“Tessa, from what I’ve found, this guy is dangerous to not only you, but other unsuspecting women,” Tweeter said. “Earl has a theory.”

“What?” Tessa asked.

Earl placed her food in front of her. “He’s a sex trafficker.”

Tessa couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her mouth.

Earl swore something so foul she gasped. “Sorry, baby. But the bastard had to have been involved with the Branhams’ business. Probably a silent partner or maybe a financial backer.”

He leaned over and kissed her suddenly wet cheek. “Don’t cry, baby. You know it kills me. I promise he won’t get his hands on you. I swear it on my soul.”

Tessa turned and kissed his lips. “I know. I know. I’m fine.”

“Like hell you’re fine.” He swiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs as he cupped her face. He looked around at the interested onlookers. “Breakfast is served. Help yourselves.”

Tessa half-smiled as there was a mass exodus from the table as the men moved to the island and swarmed the buffet servers.

Even with Earl’s reassurances and the end potentially in sight, her stomach was knotted with anxiety. She forced herself to eat the fluffy eggs. After a couple of bites, her hunger beat out her nerves and the food went down more easily. Her man had a magic touch with eggs. She took a bite of the thick-sliced bacon and moaned. He was a wizard with bacon. It was crispy, just the way she liked.

Earl went to the kitchen island and came back with his own loaded plate. He sat down on her left side. “It’s good?”

With a mouth full of bacon, she could only nod.

He smiled. “I like feeding you. Juice is on the table. Want me to pour you a glass?”

She swallowed and said, “I can get it, Earl.”

The man was taking the “taking care of her” thing too far.

Tessa placed her fork on the plate and looked at him. She found concern and love in his eyes. His stubbornness was there in the tension and angle of his jaw. The man was over-protective to the nth degree. If Earl didn’t want to let her pour her own juice, he sure as hell wouldn’t allow her to help take down the bastard.

And did she really want or need to?

Let’s not. He’s the one that branded you.

The stalker-bastard had been happy to claim that little act of torture in the e-mail which had accompanied the video and images of the “scene” as he’d called it. When she’d first viewed the video and the stills, she’d barely made it to the bathroom where she’d lost her dinner.

The day she’d been branded had been the day she’d made the decision to take control of her life, the day she decided to escape or die trying.

And now was the time to assert some more control over her current life situation. It would be so easy to let Earl and the others handle it all. She couldn’t be powerless again and live with herself.

Tessa rubbed her cheek against Earl’s shoulder. “You know, I’m not helpless. I can pour my own juice. Dish up my own eggs. And I was taking care of this problem before you came into my life. I reported the threat to the proper authorities. I did the right and smart thing.”

At his frown and snort, which she decided had been aimed at the proper authorities part of her little speech, she added, “Detective Roebuck is really eager to get whoever this guy is, because his gut says my stalker is the man who killed the Branhams.
He
called in the FBI because of the cybercrime nature of the stalking.”

Earl took her chin in his hand and massaged her jaw with his thumb. “The police and the FBI don’t love you, I do.”

Her heart fluttered with happiness.

He went on, “There’s no way in hell I’m letting the police use you to draw this bastard out for whatever bigger fish or case they have in mind, or maybe a promotion for one of the cops or the Fed.”

Her insides turned to mush at the intensity of his need and desire to protect her from all comers.

He kissed her lips, tasting her leisurely, before breaking off at the coughs of their audience. “The bastard needs to be taken out now. From what I could see in your correspondence with the law, they’re definitely dragging their damn feet.”

Grunts of “oh yeahs” came from some of the SSI operatives.

“Which means,” Earl continued, “(a) they can’t find their asses and don’t have a fucking clue what they’re doing, or (b) and the most likely, they’re using you. Ain’t gonna happen. We’ll move on the stalker as soon as we can get to Chicago.”

He’s right, you know. The wheels of justice had gone to slo-mo on this case.

Tweeter said, “The fact they didn’t nail this guy weeks ago is criminal in my mind. What if the stalker decided to try to get into your condo and attack you for real?”

Earl snarled like a pissed-off tiger, and Tessa petted his shoulder. “I have excellent security on my home. Plus, when this all started, I upgraded it. I hired the security firm Callie used on her place and had my house wired for video and audio security and also added new digital security to all my windows and doors. I even changed out my front door to solid steel.”

Tessa pulled her laptop away from Tweeter and toward her. She hit a few keys and then entered a series of passwords. She pointed to the monitor. “There … see, that’s my condo. And since I’ve been gone, the system was set to send a silent alarm to not only my security company, but also the police, if my perimeters were breached.”

Tweeter came around the table and viewed the monitor over her shoulder. He reached over, keyed in a few things, sped through the feeds from the past several days, and then snorted. “Tessa, that picture is looping. Note the clock, it keeps going back to the same time in ten minute intervals. Someone has messed with your system, and what’s really happening in your condo is anybody’s guess.”

“But the alarm?” Tessa had a sick feeling in her stomach.

“Turned off,” Tweeter replied.

“Fuck!” Earl turned to look at Tweeter. “You mean the bastard has been in her place and has corrupted her security?”

“Someone has.” Tweeter picked up the laptop and took it with him to his seat at the table. Ren moved Tweeter’s half-eaten breakfast out of the way so Tweeter could put the computer down. “I can reset the system to live feed over the Internet since you have the program open. Let’s see what real time looks like. I’ll also check the alarm and lock settings.”

Tweeter hummed under his breath as he typed and clicked the mouse. His face darkened and he said, “Fuck.”

Ren echoed the sentiment, anger turning his eyes stormy.

Tessa’s stomach knotted. “What is it?” Her voice was strained.

Earl pulled the monitor around. “Mother-fucking, sonuvabitch, sick-ass bastard.”

Tessa’s great room was a shambles. Her Italian modern couches were shredded. Everything that could be broken was. Those items that couldn’t be broken were dented or torn apart.

Tweeter shifted the view to the kitchen which looked as if a tornado had sucked out all the contents of the cabinets and refrigerator and tossed them all about.

But it was the bedroom that had Earl and the others swearing the loudest. There was no destruction—but the bastard had attached shackles to the platform bed all around the edges and at all four corners and then had laid out the instruments of torture he planned to use on her.

A frightened sob escaped her throat. She clenched her jaw, halting any others. But she couldn’t stop the tears streaming from the corners of her eyes. She took several breaths, appreciative of the men’s silence, their sensitivity in allowing her to regain control over her emotions.

Tessa shoved her plate away with a trembling hand. She was no longer hungry. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging herself.

“Fuck this.” Earl shoved back his chair and then pulled her into his arms until she sat across his lap, his arms around her.

She twined her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent and letting it and his warmth and strength soothe her.

“Bastard is going down, baby. Down hard.” He kissed her forehead. “Just hold on to me. I’ve got you.”

“I know.” She kissed the side of his throat. “Whatever you decide to do, please be careful. I can’t lose you now that I’ve found you.”

“Not gonna lose me. Won’t happen.” He tightened his arms. “Relax into me.”

Tweeter, his lips thinned with anger, looked up after several minutes. “Good system. It’s back up and working properly now. I had it send an e-mail with a report to this laptop and to the e-mail address of the cops and the Feds. Gave them your Skype address. We should hear from them soon, I would think.” His lips twisted into an evil grin. “I sort of insulted them.”

A chorus of “fuck yeahs” and “damn rights” traveled around the table.

“It’s lunchtime in Chicago,” Ren drawled. “We might have a wait. Why don’t you show Tessa the asshole stalker and the data you pulled on him?”

“What I want to know,” Price said, “is why did he wait for almost seven years to use the info he had on Tessa? It’s not like Tessa isn’t famous. She was all over the place as a model, and it isn’t all that well-kept of a secret she stopped modeling to write thrillers as T.A. Parks.”

“I have a theory,” Chad spoke up. “Her last novel used some of what’s in those photos and the, uh, video. The book was about sex trafficking. Evan and I knew she wrote the book as a catharsis.”

Evan nodded. “Her therapist had always told her to write things down and get them out of her head. Our little gal just took it a step further and made money off the cathartic act.”

Tessa nodded. “The earlier e-mails began with him raving over the book. Then the tone changed and became more about … me and … his sexual perversions. Maybe he’s afraid I figured out who he really is, and so he decided to scare me to keep silent. To keep me from revealing his perfidy to the world.”

“It’s as good a theory as any.” Earl rubbed her arm. “I’ll be sure to ask the son of a bitch when I’m beating the shit out of him.”

The men chuckled and Tessa grinned at the image. “That would be nice of you, Earl. Thanks.”

Tweeter shoved the laptop toward her. “I’ve opened the file I created on the bastard. There are several news articles and photos and even a bio. See if the man is someone you recognize.”

Earl released his tight hold on her and let her lean forward.

Tessa clicked a folder titled “Bio.” She read out loud. “Dion Denuccio. CEO of Denuccio Investment Fund, Ltd.” She looked up. “He’s not even an American citizen. His company is incorporated in England. He has branches in London, Chicago, Rio de Janeiro, Shanghai, and Moscow.”

“Bet he kidnaps or falsely adopts girls from the other places, and at least seven years ago anyway, he took them to the club in Chicago. Probably moved his operations after killing off the Branhams.” Ren looked at his brother-in-law. “Can you start a search using our NSA connections and see if you can find this guy’s travel patterns over the last couple of years or so?”