The Betrayal (4 page)

Starting at the beginning, he told Clayton about the accusation, then of the shock, the confusion, the disbelief and the anger when Gary Julian’s words had sunk in.

He told him how he’d wracked his brains over the weekend following his meeting in his boss’ office, trying to figure out who could be responsible, but had come up with nothing. And then he told Clayton about Senior Investigator Sabattini.

“Christ, Declan,” Clayton muttered, running a hand through the disheveled length of his blond hair. “Who the hell would do something like this?”

Declan laughed humorlessly. “I’ve spent the last seventy-five hours or so asking the same thing and I still come up blank.”

“Why didn’t you call me earlier? I can’t believe you’ve carried it around with you all this time.”

Declan shook his head, his lips compressed. “I thought it would blow over. I know darn well I didn’t do it. I assumed I’d meet with IA, set the record straight and be back at work in the morning. Never in my wildest dreams did I see it panning out this way.”

Clayton pushed himself away from the kitchen countertop and went to stand near the floor-to-ceiling glass doors that led out onto the balcony. He gazed out at the view, but showed no signs of seeing the sparkling display from the lake below. Moments later, he spun on his heel to face Declan. “What about now? Have you called any of the others? Brandon? Tom? Riley?”

Declan shook his head.

“Tell me you’ve at least told Mom and Dad?”

“No, you’re the first one to know. Like I said, up until now, I thought it would be resolved at the first meeting. When the IA investigator mentioned talking to other witnesses before she wrote her report, I started to panic. That’s why I called you. You’ve been in the AFP longer than any of us. Besides, you live in the same town.”

“You need a lawyer. I’ll call the family. They’ll want to know what’s going on.”

Declan opened his mouth to protest, but Clayton waved him off. “They’re your family, your mom and dad. Wouldn’t you want to know if it was one of your kids?”

“I don’t have any kids.”

Clayton ignored him. “We need a lawyer from Sydney. The best there is. Tom and Brandon will know who to call. Sydney’s their turf. And that’s before we talk to Dad about calling in a few favors.”

Clayton tugged out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. Declan eased out his breath, already feeling better than he had since he’d been given the news. He moved back toward the kitchen and collected his mug from where he’d left it on the counter. His phone vibrated in his pocket.

Taking a slug of coffee, he checked the caller ID and then answered the call.

“Charlie, how are things?”

“Shit, mate, what’s going on? I can’t
believe
it. The things they’re all saying at the office… That IA’s all over you. I won’t believe it. I told them all to shut the fuck up. I wanted you to know I’m here for you, mate. If there’s anything I can do…”

Declan puffed out his breath on a heavy sigh and took another mouthful of coffee.

“Thanks, mate. I appreciate it. And thanks for the vote of confidence. I thought after working with those other blokes for more than a year, they’d know me better than that, but apparently not. I guess you never can tell.”

“Well, as some poor bastard said, ‘It’s when you’re down that you find out who your true friends are.’”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Declan replied with a grimace.

“I mean it, mate. If there’s anything I can do…”

“Yeah, thanks. Do you fancy hitting a bar on the foreshore tonight? I know it’s the beginning of the week, but right now, all I want to do is get good and drunk and forget I ever heard of IA.”

Images of the good-looking investigator immediately came to the forefront of Declan’s mind.

Too bad she worked for the enemy.
He hadn’t felt such interest in a girl since Alice and he broke up.

Not that he’d had much practise, lately. He’d given the whole dating scene a miss for the past year. Having the girl you thought you’d one day call your wife run off with a work colleague could do that.

It wasn’t as if there hadn’t been plenty of offers, but most of them had come from female officers he worked with and he’d always had a rule about mixing business with pleasure. It was fine when things were going well, but it all got too messy when the relationship went south.

But little Miss IA had sparked enough interest that under different circumstances he could almost see himself breaking his rule.

Declan shook his head and scoffed.

Who was he kidding?
She was enemy number one—a woman to be avoided at all costs. He was grateful when Charlie accepted his invitation and his thoughts moved to the much safer ground of when and where they would meet and seek to eradicate the last few days.

* * *

Chip stood before him in the dimness of the Master’s office and delivered his update in a voice shaky with nerves. The Master chuckled silently, his generous girth jiggling with the effort.

He loved their fear. The boy was past thirty, yet still he feared him. The sound and scent of it excited him, made him hard with wanting.

The sun had long ago vanished from the sky and the traffic outside the window had been reduced to a sporadic hum. The heavy, dark drapes had been drawn against the oncoming night, cocooning him in secrecy and warmth.

“And so it begins,” he murmured under his breath.

The younger man’s recital came to an end and the Master clapped his hands softly.

“Good job, boy. You’ve done well.”

“Th-thank you, Master. I-I like to please you.”

The Master chuckled again. “Oh, I like you to please me, too. I like it very much.”

He pushed away from the enormous slab of cedar that formed his desk and eased his bulk from the chair. He made his way around the front of the desk and sauntered toward the tall, locked cabinet that stood on the opposite wall.

Chip’s eyes widened with excitement and his cheeks grew flushed.

With great exaggeration, the Master jiggled around in the pocket of his suit pants and pulled out a key, which he fitted into the lock of the cupboard. From the corner of his eye, he saw the younger man shift his weight from foot to foot. The Master’s cock stirred to life.

He retrieved the black leather riding crop from the cabinet and closed and relocked the door. Slapping the side of his leg with the stiff piece of leather, he turned and moved closer to Chip.

“Take off your shirt, boy and get down on your knees. It’s time for your reward.”

Chip hurried to comply and the Master positioned himself in front of the man’s waiting mouth. He eased the zipper over his swollen cock and pulled his erection out of his underwear. He swiped the tip of it across Chip’s lips.

Chip moaned and opened his mouth and the Master thrust all the way inside.

“Do what you do best, boy.”

Chip complied. The Master tensed with pleasure. He raised the crop and ran it lovingly over the other man’s back. The boy’s naked skin glowed palely in the dim light. Chip shivered and renewed his efforts.

“Ah, that’s it, boy, that’s it. You know so well how to please me. Keep it up and you’ll be in charge of your own Area Command before you know it.”

CHAPTER 4

Chloe glanced at the bedside clock and sighed. It was a little after six, barely early enough for the sun to rise over the hills in the distance. She still had a couple of hours before she had to leave for work. It was a shame she’d woken so early. The only good thing about it was that she’d have time to call her mother.

Reaching across the double bed, she scrabbled for the telephone and dialed her mother’s number. Giovanna Sabattini answered on the second ring.

“What are you calling so early for, bambina? I thought I was the only one who got up before the sun?”

Chloe smiled and settled herself back against the pillows. “Now, Mama, don’t be like that. I woke early and thought I’d call you. Is there anything wrong with that?”

Her mother
tsk tsked
on the other end of the phone, but Chloe could tell she was pleased. Ever since Chloe had been promoted to senior investigator, calls to her mother had been squeezed into the tiny slivers of time she had between work matters. It had been weeks since they’d had a decent chat and even longer since she’d gone home for a family dinner.

Guilt shot through her at the thought. It wasn’t as though her parents lived interstate. They were less than half an hour away, in Queanbeyan. She had no excuse. Other than the one that she kept repeating to her mother every time the conversation came up and which happened to be true: She was far too busy at work.

“How are you, bambina?” her mother asked and Chloe felt warm inside knowing her mother really wanted to know.

“I’m all right, Mama. Busy, you know.”

“Work, work, work. That’s all you ever do. You won’t find a man that way, bambina.”

Chloe sighed and braced herself for the usual, well-meaning tirade. Her mother didn’t disappoint.

“When I was your age, I’d been married for nearly a decade. I had three children under eight and another one on the way.”

Chloe had heard it all before and knew her protestations fell on deaf ears, but she made them anyway.

“Mama, I’m only thirty. That’s hardly geriatric. And I have a career. A very successful career. Right now, I need to put my energies into that if I want it to continue to flourish.”

“Oh, pooh to a career! How is a career going to keep you warm at night, bambina? Or give you babies? It’s time you started putting your energies into
that
! And who’s going to give me more grandbabies?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Mama, between Cathy, Carlo and Antonella, you already have ten grandbabies. How many more do you want?”

“I want
your
granbabies, bambina. I don’t want you to get to be an old woman and look back and regret you don’t have any. And that’s what will happen, bambina. You mark my words! It’s time you found yourself a husband. Even better if he’s a nice strong Italian boy. A man who will do your family proud.”

“Yes, Mama. You’re right. I’ll go right out now and find one. I can probably Google “Italian husband hunt” on the Internet. I don’t know why I haven’t done it already. Thank you, Mama. You’re always right.”

Chloe’s answer was met with suspicious silence. She tried to hold back a giggle but failed.

“Chloe Maria Sabattini! You are a naughty, naughty girl! You shouldn’t say such awful things to your mama. If I was over there now I would turn you over my knee. It’s exactly what you deserve!”

Chloe laughed harder and swiped at the tears that formed in the corner of her eyes.

“Oh, Mama!
You’re
exactly what I need. Thank you for brightening up my day!”

“Humph!”

“No, Mama, I mean it. I have a tough interview ahead of me and I’m grateful that you’ve managed to take my mind off it.”

Her mother’s voice sobered. “Are you okay, bambina? Are you eating right?”

Chloe thought of Agent Munro and the way he’d looked at her right before he’d stormed out. In a few short hours, she’d be interviewing the man who’d reported the incidents. A man who, according to the file, Agent Munro had previously called “friend.”

* * *

The AFP headquarters was situated in the Edmund Barton building on the edge of the Parliamentary Triangle. A short drive away on the Hill sat Parliament House, an impressive example of modern architecture where life-changing decisions were often made on a daily basis.

The stark interview room on the fifth floor was exactly how Chloe had left it the day before. The same bland, blank walls surrounded her. The same gray-laminate desk and two hard plastic chairs took up most of the space in the small room. Not a single window broke up the sparse expanse of off-white walls. There was not a hint of the gorgeous spring morning she’d had a brief chance to encounter on her way inside.

Chloe placed her briefcase on the desk and pulled out the Munro file. After Agent Munro had left, she’d taken the time to make notes on the interview and in particular, record her overall judgement of his demeanor and level of sincerity. A copy of his ERISP, or electronic record of interview of a suspected person, was also in the file.

She had to admit, if she hadn’t been presented with irrefutable evidence that he’d accessed the files, the light of honesty and integrity that had shone in his way-too distracting eyes would have swayed her. But, by his own admission, no one knew his login details, which meant that his guilt was almost assured. All that was left to do was to interview the man who’d first drawn the matter to the attention of his superior.

Promptly at nine o’clock, a knock sounded on the door. Chloe arranged her notepad and pen and then called for the person to enter.

A man she guessed to be somewhere around Agent Munro’s age entered the room. A smile of greeting belied the wariness in his dark blue eyes. Surprise and a little nervousness barreled through Chloe’s stomach.
What was it with the agents in the CPU
? Charlie Stanford was just as good-looking as his friend.

Tall and without an inch of flab in evidence under the expensive business shirt and tailored suit pants, she was sure the mop of fair, sun-bleached hair and baby blues would have the girls running from all directions.

Pushing the thought aside, she stuck out her hand. “Agent Stanford, I’m Senior Investigator Sabattini. Thank you for coming.”

Her hand was engulfed in a firm handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Senior Investigator Sabattini and please, call me Charlie.”

Chloe nodded. “All right, Charlie. Take a seat and let’s get started.”

After checking there was a fresh tape in the video recorder and going through the preliminaries, Chloe commenced the interview.

“How long have you known Agent Munro?”

Charlie leaned back in his chair, his body now relaxed. “A bit over a year. He transferred into the CPU just over twelve months ago. I was already working there.”

“And how would you describe your relationship?”

“We’re mates. Good mates. We spend a lot of our free time together. I thought I knew him pretty well.”