Her Dark Web Defender

Chapter 4

Kelly couldn’t remember ever being so exhausted as she tromped inside her apartment and dumped her heavy purse on the floor by the door. It was still daylight outside. She barely recognized the place, with light streaming in between the blind slats and dust motes waltzing toward her coffee table. Usually working afternoons did that to a person. Even on her days off, she was too busy catching up on errands to notice.

Now she was too…something else. Tired. Keyed up. Annoyed. Anything but intrigued by some jaded FBI agent.

After locking the door, she crossed into her bedroom, already unbuttoning her shirt. Her uniform had nearly smothered her all afternoon in that stifling office, but she hadn’t even loosened her tie. Special Agent Lazzaro would have perceived that as weakness. She’d refused to give him the chance after all the potshots he’d lobbed at her.

Now she couldn’t shed the layers fast enough. If only yanking on her old cross-country shorts and pulling on a sports bra and tank top could help her put the day’s events out of her mind. Even after she’d worked with him all day, Tony still didn’t want her to be there.

Of all his rude comments, the last one kept replaying in her thoughts. If I was thinking about your well-being… Had he been trying to tell her what the assignment had done to him? After the way he’d treated her today, she shouldn’t care, but she couldn’t help it. He seemed miserable there, which made no sense.

Her cell phone rang, and for once, she considered letting it go to voice mail. Her couch was calling her, as well. But guilt won as it always did, and she hurried to the door and dug around in her purse until her fingers connected with it. She refused to acknowledge that blip of disappointment at seeing Nick Sanchez’s name on the screen.

Had she hoped Tony—make that Special Agent Lazzaro—would call to say he was sorry? Even if he had her number, which he wouldn’t, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who ever apologized. Anyway, if the Brighton Post’s current calendar model was calling her, there had to be an emergency. She tapped the button to accept the call.

“Is everything all right, Nick?”

“Sure. It’s fine.”

“Then why are you calling?”

“You try to do something nice for a person and—”

“Nice? How?” Had they missed her so much at the post that they were resorting to phone pranks?

“I only wanted to see how your first day with the task force went.”

“Oh. Okay, I guess.”

“And how was it to drive a desk instead of a patrol car?”

He chuckled this time. Someone else laughed in the background.

“Dion Carson, is that you? Are you two together, even on your day off?”

The laughter became a chorus.

“Can we help it if we’re the two coolest people around?” Dion asked.

“Yeah, can we?” Nick piped.

“I hate to interrupt your mutual-admiration society, but is there a point to this call? Other than to torture me?”

Nick harrumphed. “We were going to tell you that we’re standing right outside your building, with pizzas, but since you’re being so unwelcoming—”

“Did you say pizzas?”

She pushed the buzzer to allow them inside and threw open her apartment door. Footsteps pounded on the stairs, and then they both appeared in her open doorway. Nick had a pizza in each hand, and Dion carried two-liter pop bottles under both arms.

Dion shook his head and tsk-tsked. “Now is that a way for a woman to let someone inside her place? You don’t know who could be out there.”

“But I already knew—”

Both men laughed again, and she gave them a dirty look. These were her friends, the closest people to her in the world. She would take a bullet for any of them, but sometimes—like now—she wanted to pistol-whip them instead.

“You missed us. Admit it,” Nick said with his perfect, toothy grin.

Kelly shook her head. Though she couldn’t have found two more attractive males to show up in her living room—one tawny skinned with dimples, the other with sepia skin and sultry eyes—neither Nick nor Dion had ever been swooning material for her. But the barely-still-thirtysomething Italian-American she’d met earlier, the one with crinkles around his eyes and a five o’clock shadow before noon? She couldn’t allow herself to think about that guy.

“Earth to Kelly.” Nick lifted and lowered the boxes a few times. “Where do you want me to put these?”

“Anywhere is fine.”

She followed his gaze around the room. There were only three places where guests could put a pizza that didn’t involve getting crumbs in her bed: her dinette with two chairs, the coffee table or the living room floor. Nick went for the coffee table, pausing to note the scratches before setting the warm boxes directly on the wood.

Kelly could admit that the place wasn’t fancy. More like minimalism on steroids. It was like the task force office she’d spent the day in. Necessities and nothing more. Would Tony have something to say about that, too?

She pushed the thought aside and hurried to the kitchen for plates, napkins and cups.

Soon the three of them sat shoulder to shoulder on the cramped sofa, munching pizza and sipping pop in the awkward silence.

Dion set his plate on top of the box. “So really, how was your first day?”

“I told you it was okay.” Sitting between them, she could feel their skeptical glances coming from both sides. “All right, it stank. It was like starting all over as a brand-new trooper.”

“I bet it did stink.” Nick took another bite and then talked around it. “It’s hard working with cops from different agencies, when everyone’s as cocky as you are.”

“Are the cowboys from the FBI treating you like a rookie?” Dion asked.

Having just grabbed another piece of pizza, she took an angry bite. “Just one. Special Agent Lazzaro. You’d think he’d never met a female police officer before. Mansplained like I was an idiot. He thinks he knows danger when he’s probably not been more than ten feet away from a computer screen his whole career.”

“That so?”

Dion had opened the pizza box again, but he stopped without lifting a slice. She glanced from one police officer to the other.

“What?”

Nick leaned forward so he and Dion could exchange a look. “I think she doth protest too much.”

“This…Lazzaro,” Dion said, “is he a sexy Valentino type?”

Kelly came to her feet. “He’s just another jerk male officer. You two would probably be fast friends with him. Is everything a big joke for you guys?”

“Do you know us?” Nick asked.

Both men burst out laughing.

“Really, we did come by to offer some support.” Dion finally picked up the slice of pizza he’d been going for before.

“Well, thanks.”

Nick, who’d already devoured three slices, set his plate aside. “You headed over to Casey’s Diner later?”

She shook her head. “I’m beat. Are you going? Don’t you realize how pitiful that looks that you still meet up with the rest of the troopers on your days off?”

“What’s your point?” Nick said, grinning.

Dion tapped his watch. “You probably can’t stay out late, anyway, now that you’re on the day shift.”

Kelly didn’t bother telling him she wouldn’t necessarily be working days for this assignment. She’d been told she would be clocking a lot of overtime hours until they found some leads.

If she told them, they would be razzing her about being with Lazzaro day in and day out. She was worrying enough about that situation. How was she supposed to be of any help in tracking Sienna’s and Madison’s killer when all she could think about was the special agent who wanted her out of his world?

Tony had just enough time to throw his keys on his counter, pull a beer from the refrigerator and pop the tab before his doorbell rang. One glance at the clock on the microwave and he grimaced. He’d forgotten. He wasn’t in the mood to entertain.

But, unlike some people, he honored his commitments. Taking two quick gulps of his beer and then turning the can upside down in the sink to drain, he jogged to the front door.

“Did you forget?” Angelena Hayes hurried inside, a toddler perched on one hip and a preschooler holding her free hand.

“Of course not.”

Her smile told him how much she believed his lie. He wasn’t the only one in their family with good instincts. His baby sister knew him well.

“Well, good. We need a babysitter. Date night has dwindled to once a month already. If it drops to every two months, Miles and I are going to be a divorce statistic like Mom and Dad.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” At least she really was kidding. Angelena and Miles were the real deal, unlike their parents, whose marriage hadn’t so much dissolved in acrimony as withered away from neglect. For him and Laurel, it had been more like a murder/suicide.

“Are we going to play, Uncle Tony?”

Squeezed between the two adults, four-year-old Tabitha tapped his leg several times.

He bent at the waist to speak to the child at her level. “We sure are. What do you want to play first?”

Tabitha wrinkled her button nose. “You smell yucky.”

“You’ve been drinking?”

Angelena’s stage whisper was loud enough for the neighbors in his spread-out subdivision of 1970s ranch homes to hear.

“Two swallows. That’s it.”

“Had better be it.”

He nabbed the little girl and tucked her under his arm, her giggles filling the room and that headful of riotous chocolate curls falling around her face. His sister already knew he would do anything to protect these little people.

“I want to play school!”

“Then school, it is.”

Tony and Angelena exchanged smiles because Tabitha chose the same activity every time he babysat. Everyone knew electronics were off-limits at Uncle Tony’s house.

“Too,” the two-year-old man of few words, Carter, called out, extending his pudgy arms to be lifted.

Tony obliged and shifted the boy onto his opposite hip.

Angelena grinned at her brother. “You’re the best babysitter ever.”

“The price is definitely right.”

“Just name your price. You know we’ll pay it.”

“Now if I’d known that before…”

He didn’t bother finishing that since he always refused to take her money. He also loved the two ruffians like they were his own. As close to it as he would ever get.

“Rough day?”

“The same.”

“Oh. Your brow looks more furrowed than usual.”

Was it so obvious that he was out of sorts? But then Angelena and Miles were the only ones he’d told about his transfer request. “Your description makes me sound super hot.”

“Ew. Just ew.”

“Anyway, aren’t you going to get out of here? Don’t you two have reservations or something?”

“That’s an avoidance tactic if I ever heard one.”

He opened the door for her, but she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave.

“Well, what’s going on?”

“It’s just that this new state police officer joined the task force. Bad timing. And she—”

“She?”

His sister had finally started out the door, but she paused and looked back at him.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. We’re not going there.”

“You never go there, and you should. With somebody. It’s been four years.”

Tabitha picked that moment to moan and wiggle until he lowered her to the ground. She planted her hands on her hips.

“Are we going to play?”

“Yeah,” Carter chimed.

Tony could’ve hugged them both and planned to as soon as their mother finally left.

“Thanks for your concern, little sister, but I have everything I need right here.” He took both kids’ hands to make his point. “And, apparently, I need to play now.”

He started down the hall with his niece and nephew.

“See you guys later,” Angelena called before she left.

Tony blew out a loud breath. Why had he mentioned Kelly in the first place? He knew better than to speak of women around his sister, even one as inconsequential as Kelly Roberts. He turned left into his guest bedroom.

Tabitha rushed ahead and opened the sliding closet door. Inside, a small desk was pushed against the wall, a tiny chair stacked on top of it. A cardboard box filled with school supplies had been squeezed in next to it. The other closet door hid an easel with a chalkboard.

“Let’s get this party started.”

Soon his living room had been transformed from its regular man-friendly state to a proper classroom. The buttery recliner in dark leather, matching sofa and the industrial-style wood end tables had been shoved out of the way to make room for the desk, chalkboard and the sheet spread out to cover the floor. Tony had learned the hard way about marker stains on the carpeting.

“Look. This one is a U.”

Tabitha sat at the desk and held up her paper. Carter lay on his belly on the floor, coloring a huge art pad and himself. Mostly himself.

“Uncle Tony, can you write your letters? In order?”

“In order? That’s tough. Maybe I could do it if I worked really hard.”

“I can help you.”

“Help. Too.”

Carter popped up from the floor and approached with his purple marker. His “help” was to decorate his uncle’s hands.

If Kelly could only see him now. Tony blinked, his fingers automatically closing. Why had she come up again? He was off the clock now, and he didn’t need to think about work or her. Maybe she’d peeked her annoyingly attractive face into his evening hours because he wanted her to see that he wasn’t always a jerk.

Why did she get to him? She wasn’t the first newbie police officer to join the task force since he’d been there. Eric was just one example. She wasn’t even the first female.

So, what was different about Trooper Roberts? Was he trying to scare her off because he sensed vulnerability in her, and his instinct was to shield her from things he’d seen? She was a trained police officer. She’d been carrying a weapon all day, for God’s sake. She didn’t need his protection. She would consider him patriarchal if not downright misogynistic for considering it.

Still, believing this was about his hero complex was easier than acknowledging another reason he might not want Kelly on the task force. It had more to do with sensual lips that could make a man think of all sorts of naughtiness, brown eyes that seemed to take in everything at once and a body that even a police uniform couldn’t disguise. Or maybe it was his temptation to pull those pins from her hair, just to watch it tumble down her back.

That wasn’t going to happen.

He didn’t do office romance. He didn’t do romance. Once bitten, twice done, you might say. He’d already told Angelena he wasn’t going there. With his career in a state of flux right now, it needed to be a hell no. His focus had to be of closing this case so that he could finally be transferred. That meant one thing. If he was even tempted to veer toward that on-ramp, he was hitting the brakes and putting that car in Park.

Chapter 5

With his curtains drawn and office door locked, he dropped into the leather executive chair behind his mahogany desk. Usually that gleaming piece of furniture and the built-in shelves with all his favorite books would have soothed his frustrations, even after a long week at his day job. He might even have smiled at the degrees on the wall and the framed photos on his desk—one a family portrait and the other of him in uniform.

But not today. No, nothing could tamp down his irritation as he attached the cable for his external hard drive to his second laptop, kept just for business purposes. It was all he could do not to slam his hands on the keyboard while using the keys and touchpad to reach the even more secretive back door of his already well-hidden website.

He couldn’t alert his dear wife to his problems, either. She’d done a fine job of avoiding asking questions for years and had graciously accepted the baubles he’d showered her with as rewards. No sense in crippling a smoothly working system.

With a few more expert keystrokes, he landed on a page showing recent transactions from his Soleil Enterprises customers, all paid for using the cryptocurrency Bitcoin for anonymity. He loosened his tie, smiling at the second-quarter sales figures. Those had already tripled since the same time period a year before.

It was a beautiful business model, providing a wide variety of goods and services for his clients’ proclivities and peccadilloes, all at prices they were willing to stretch to afford. He didn’t even know why it was called the “Dark Web,” when it spelled a brighter future for the secret bank accounts of people like him.

Except that his sunny days might have been clouded recently with a bucket of blood.

He fisted one hand and squeezed it so hard with the other that all his fingers ached. If only it could have been the guy’s neck. Of course, he wasn’t certain that it was one of his customers who had crossed the line and murdered those girls. It could have been anyone. But the crushed tiara, part of the secret crime scene information that a loose-lipped peace officer had shared with him, had made him wonder.

Tiaras. Princesses. The sinking feeling in his gut told him it was a possibility. He shouldn’t have taken a chance on that guy. But greed could trap anyone in its grasp, just as an online supermarket for dark desires kept his clients coming back. Maybe he’d been caught this time.

“If it’s you, you’re done,” he whispered to the monitor.

Leaving his own site, he navigated to a few others that the local FBI task force regularly monitored. Again, it was information he shouldn’t have had but did.

He couldn’t casually observe the task force’s activities any longer. Everyone was searching for answers. He had to find them first.

He closed the Dark Web browser, launched another on the Surface Web and selected a chat room website that was among his customers’ favorites.

Though he rarely joined in on the conversations, he started a dialogue box for his screen name.

MR. SUNSHINE: Today’s been hell. Who agrees with me?

A knock at his office door interrupted him just as responses poured in.

“I’m headed up to bed,” his wife said from outside. “Will you be working long?”

“You go ahead. I have a little more to do.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Sweet dreams.”

He wouldn’t be able to sleep now if he tried, so he continued to lurk, waiting to see who was playing that night.

He’d worked too hard to build his empire, too hard to protect it. No one would be allowed to expose it or him. Not a customer who’d taken his fun too far. Not a task force that could uncover a connection during its investigation.

Would he kill to preserve this good thing he had? In a minute.

Tony braced himself as he pushed open the office door, but all seemed quiet inside. Although a few of the early risers were milling about, most knew better than to seek his input before his second cup of coffee.

Instead of going to fill his cup, he crossed to his cubicle. It wasn’t his fault he had to pass hers to get there. He was more relieved than he cared to admit that she wasn’t at her desk. Though he planned to make nice with her today, it was too early to start.

But as Tony rounded the corner to his desk, the source of his agitation and lack of sleep sat waiting for him in his chair. Out of uniform, she looked different. Brown slacks, feminine cream blouse buttoned almost to the collar and sensible, low-heeled shoes. She could have traded places with any female FBI agent he knew. So how did she manage to make even that outfit look sexy?

“I didn’t think you’d ever get here.” She crossed her arms and settled back into the chair.

“What are you talking about?” He checked his watch. It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. “Mind giving me my seat?”

He rested his briefcase next to his desk. Though she met his gaze steadily, she gave her nervousness away by tucking a loose tendril behind her ear. If only that hadn’t drawn his attention back to her hair, tied up the same way she’d worn it the day before. It was looser though, softer, as if she’d been less determined with a can of hairspray this time.

“I thought we could have a chat first.”

His jaw tightened, but he’d promised himself he wouldn’t let her get to him today, so he dropped in the guest chair at his own desk. All of this without coffee.

“So, what’s up?”

“What’s up is whatever’s going on between us has to stop.”

Tony blinked. He couldn’t help it. He was usually better at hiding his reactions than that, but he’d done a lousy job of it ever since she’d arrived. “Excuse me?”

“Special Agent Dawson told me to figure out what the problem is that you have with me, so we can find a way to work together.”

“He said that?” he asked instead of answering a question.

He shot a glance toward Dawson’s cubicle, nearer to the office door, but he really couldn’t see it through the maze of temporary walls. Leave it to him to piss off the one person who could delay his transfer even longer.

“Well, not in so many words.”

She was staring at her folded hands now, using one thumb to snap away from the other the way she would flick a lighter. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as he thought.

“Then with what words specifically?”

She stared back at him in what felt like a standoff and then lowered her gaze again.

“He said we need to work together.”

“And when did he say that?” Come to think of it, had he passed Dawson’s umbrella near the front door on his way in? He always had it with him, just in case.

“Yesterday.”

“You mean before we had our practice session?”

This time, she didn’t answer his question.

“Anyway, I know you don’t want me here. I didn’t ask to be assigned to this task force, either. But now that I have been, I am determined to help track down this suspect and help make connections to any other cases, if they exist. I’ll do my job. You do yours.”

“Okay.”

“You act like you know me, but you know nothing about me. And if you want to get rid of me, the fastest way to do that would be to close this case.”