Chapter Nine

Wick

W. Carter Investigations Inc., Bayshore Boulevard, Bayshore Gardens, Tampa, Florida…

"Good morning, Boss lady."

Wick was hard-pressed not to roll her eyes. Vicky Newman was fresh out of school. She had told her numerous times not to call her that, but she was so sweet, Wick let it pass. Since her family didn't have the means to send her to college, she was earning her keep so that she could study part-time.

"Morning, Vicky." It was in Wick's nature to help youngsters in need, and she didn't think twice about offering her the job as receptionist, although they truly didn't need one. Her uncle was one of the investigators on staff, and when he had mentioned the young girl's heartache that she couldn't study to become a nurse, Wick couldn't let it go. No one better than her knew the hardships that came with growing up alongside a single-parent mother.

"Did you have a good weekend? I went with some friends to a live concert at Gandy Beach on Saturday. It was awesome!"

Wick listened with an indulgent smile as the young girl trotted alongside her all the way to her office, chattering nonstop.

Ah, the pleasures of youth.

Oh, please. You're thirty-five. Hardly ancient.

Some days I feel that way.

Pfft.

Ignoring further ridicule from her inner self, she sat down behind her desk and switched on the work laptop. The answer was no, she didn't have a good weekend. Every night she closed her eyes, her mind was filled with the song The Sound of Silence and the scene that had unfolded along its haunting words and chords. Finding herself all hot and bothered when she woke up was becoming a daily occurrence. Masturbating helped, but it sure as hell didn't feed the itch deep inside her.

"I'm telling you, that band is hot! The lead singer, Thomas Lovett… ooh, what I wouldn't give to meet him. He's the bomb, and so—"

"I'm glad you had some fun, Vicky," Wick cut her short, knowing if she didn't, she'd be listening to her cooing over her latest celebrity crush for hours. "Now, would you mind bringing me some coffee and sending the team leaders to my office?"

"Right away, Boss lady!"

While waiting for the team to arrive, she responded to emails and reviewed the intel file the IT team was constantly updating on Jax Crowthorne. She was disappointed that there was no new information.

"The damn man is squeaky clean. We can't find anything." She tapped a nail on her teeth as her mind wandered back to meeting him on the GoldenEye plane. Known for her ability to read people and with instinct that guided her, she would bet every penny she had that Jax Crowthorne wasn't a criminal. If he was, her red alert meter would've blared in his presence.

"So, if we can't find any dirt on JC, what the hell is Bradley Gray looking for?" she wondered out loud as she started pacing.

"Exactly the question we've been asking ourselves." Ernst Flint walked into the office. He was a retired FBI agent who, at sixty, was still too young at heart to let his brilliant mind rest. As the senior investigator of the team, he was invaluable to Wick. Close on his heels was Ciska Farlow, their IT guru and Wick's best friend. Damian Clint followed, an expert tracker, whether in the field or virtually. If there was a trace, he'd find it. A skill he obtained as a Delta Force operative until he got seriously injured in an ambush and lost his left leg from the knee down.

"What are your thoughts?" Wick asked as everyone sat down at the large boardroom table.

"Gray has made it clear he wants the mayorship, and word in the hallways is that he would do anything to get it. Even play dirty." Ernst sipped the coffee that he had brought with him. "Crowthorne poses the largest threat, so he wants to eliminate him. Our guess is he's looking for dirt. Anything that would make the constituents turn away from backing JC."

"I know Gray isn't our target," Ciska interjected, "but I started digging into his background. He's been accused of ‘planting' proof where no one could find a scrap."

"How does he get away with it?" Wick flicked through the folder she pointed out on the large monitor on the wall.

"No one could ever find any trace that led to him being involved in setting someone up. One prime example is the OCC two years ago. His bank won the bid to assist them because his biggest opponent, Queue Bank, suddenly became the focus of Kruger Gold Coin fraud. Unfounded, but it was enough for them to lose the contract."

"So, if we can't find dirt on Crowthorne, he's going to plant something that would indicate he's involved with the Genolere Mafia group. Since we're an independent and registered PI agency with the FBI, CIA, and the DA, our findings would be valued." Wick's fingers danced at tango on the desk. "Fucking bastard. I hate being used."

"Does that mean your stakeout brought nothing to light?" Damien watched her unblinkingly. Wick cursed under her breath. The man was too damn sharp for his own good. She narrowed her eyes on him. There was something in his eyes that reminded her all too much of Master M. The same powerful aura and— Ah fuck. Don't tell me he's a Dom, too!

"Nothing that leads to involvement with the Genolere Group," she said in a clipped voice.

"Meaning there is something about him that the public doesn't know?" Damien kept prodding.

Wick pressed her lips together to keep the words from spilling over. She never did sign an NDA while at the Club Decadent Skies Club, but since JC had mentioned it, her inborn integrity kicked in. She couldn't divulge any information without compromising the kind of woman she was. Besides, his sexual proclivities weren't what Gray had asked them to find.

"Nothing that has any bearing on our investigation. I spent the majority of my time running around town after him from one meeting to another. The man is a workaholic. I spent most nights outside his office building waiting for him to go home."

From Damien's expression, Wick realized he knew more than what he was letting on. Instinct warned her not to pursue the matter with the other two present.

"So, what are we gonna do?" Ernst looked around the table. "We're not in the business of turning good, law-abiding citizens into criminals, especially since it's not for the greater good. Bradley Gray is an asshole, a known tyrant, and a good-for-nothing power-hungry user."

"Ernst is right. Gray's only interest in becoming mayor is what he personally would benefit from it. In my opinion, between him and Crowthorne, he's the criminal and the one we should concentrate on exposing."

"Except, there's no one paying us to do so," Ciska piped in. "Don't forget, dear sirs, this is a business, and we have to make money first and foremost."

"How about I foot the bill?"

"How the hell did you get in here?" Wick jumped up as the topic of their conversation suddenly spoke up from where he leaned negligently against the door.

Jax shrugged as he offered her a toothy grin. "I walked through the door, like normal people usually do."

"You can't just walk through our door, Mr. Crowthorne. We have an access-generated door. Without it, you can't…" Her eyes narrowed as his smile grew larger. "You charmed Vicky, didn't you?"

"Well, I've been said to have a certain… je ne sais quoi when it comes to the ladies."

Wick stared at Ciska in wonder as she snorted and rolled her eyes, something she never did since she claimed it was a show of immaturity.

"Oh, Lord… he's one of those," she muttered in an aside to Wick. Wick was hard-pressed not to tell her that Jax had hit the nail on the head. She had personal and first-hand experience of exactly the kind of effect he had on women when he turned on the charm.

The way Jax's eyes flickered with interest as they landed on Ciska made Wick straighten. Well, what do we have here?

"Speak up, blondie. I'm not a fan of women muttering, especially when they insult me."

Ciska's back snapped straight like a piano wire being pulled tight. "I have a name, asshat, and it's not Blondie."

"Do tell," he taunted, his lips remaining in a grin that Wick identified as a man gearing up to go all Dom on her.

Yeah right. You've been in Dominants' presence a full five hours and now you're an expert?

Oh, shut up.

"Nanja," Ciska said in a chilled voice. Wick was flabbergasted at her attitude. She was never this rude to anyone.

"Nanja? Strange name." His eyes flicked to Wick. "You two family by any chance, Wick?"

"Nanja," Ciska said in a snippy voice, "as in none of ja business."

"Ah, blondie, you just sealed your fate." The smile now threatened to wrap around Jax's face.

"Look here, asshat Crowthorne, I'm not—"

"Okay, let's ease up here, shall we?" Wick said as she glanced between them. The sexual tension was a tight snare waiting to snap. "Mr. Crowthorne, pray tell, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to inform you that you are backing the wrong man, Ms. Bitch." He shrugged. "Since it seems you already came to the same conclusion, I would like you to flip the coin, find the dirt on Gray. It's time someone clipped that bastard's wings." His eyes roamed the room. "Holy shit. Is that you, Damien? Damien Clint?"

"Yeah, it's me," Damien confirmed with a slight smile, which shocked everyone. The man never smiled.

"Well, how about that? With the light behind you, I didn't notice you until now." Jax walked in and shook his hand. "Good to see you, my friend."

"Friend? Do you two know each other?" Wick asked in surprise.

"Yeah, we do." Damien's short reply warned off any further prying. They knew him well enough not to pursue the issue.

"Why come to us, Jax? Why not approach the FBI or some other agency closer to home to dig up dirt? From what my team has found, it seems if one has the expertise and technology, you won't have to dig too deep." Wick leaned forward as Jax sat down next to Damien. "Why come all the way out here?"

"I was already in Florida." This time, the secret grin was all for her benefit. The heat that spread from her chest soon presented itself in a rosy glow over her cheeks. "And since you're familiar with the history between me and Gray, I figured you'd be the best and quickest option to get the ball rolling."

"We're still under contractual obligation to Gray. He is our client, Jax."

"So, he is, but from what you said, you have nothing to give him, so the case is done."

"It'll still be a conflict of interest to—"

"We're not a legal institution, Wick. We can damn well do what we please. We owe Gray shit, especially if he's the corrupt one and using us to pinpoint dirt on Jax here." Flint stabbed his finger on the table. "I say we do it. Jax is right. Living down here won't affect me should he become mayor upstate, but it sure as hell will have an impact on my daughter and her family. So, I vote to take JC's case."

"I second that," Damien drawled.

"As painful as this is for me, I third that," Ciska said with a debilitating glower at Jax. For some reason, he rubbed her the wrong way. Wick knew the feeling. It was exactly how she had reacted to Master M.

Oh, shit! Jax is here. Now I can ask him about Master M.

Ugh… I've been waiting for that penny to drop.

If you can't add something positive to the conversation, why don't you just—

Yeah, I know… shut up.