CSA Case Files: Campaign of Desire Part 12
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"I did my business with the teller and then left, wis.h.i.+ng him good luck. Lionel Rutledge was his name."
Phoebe smothered her surprised gasp, as she'd heard the name before. It wasn't just that she'd heard the name. She knew the Rutledge family personally and remembered the event Lach was speaking of as if it were yesterday. She had just gotten home from a trip abroad on a redeye and she hadn't even had the energy to unpack that day. She'd made herself a cup of tea, knowing if she went to bed too early that morning it would mess up her schedule. She'd turned the television on, hoping the noise would keep her awake until late afternoon when she could safely fall asleep and still maintain a normal schedule for the rest of the week. That hadn't been a problem considering she'd been glued to the television until the fateful conclusion.
"Lach, you don't have to-"
"I hadn't even made it one block when my cell started to go off, indicating we had a hostage situation. Lara, a member of my team, had been rattling off the details but all I heard was the location. I knew then exactly who it was and why." Lach kept talking, although his voice sounded as if he were reciting a speech. His eyes had yet to focus on the here and now. Phoebe wanted to tell him to stop, yet she could see that he was lost back in time and the only way for him to find the present was to continue with his story. "Within fifteen minutes the van was across the street and S.W.A.T. was in place. My team was requested to provide support to S.W.A.T. because one of our forensic accounting field offices was located on an upper level of the bank. I gathered my guys by my side while the police cordoned off the area and made sure the pedestrians were kept at bay."
Lach stopped talking, as if he was overrun by memories and he needed a chance to sort them out. Phoebe's heart broke for him as she knew how the story ended, yet she knew there was so much more to hear. She tightened her grip on the stem of her gla.s.s, preventing herself from going to him. He wouldn't welcome sympathy at the moment.
"By the time I got Lionel on the phone, he had the hostages lined up along the side of the wall on the ground floor where some small offices were located. He'd made sure to stay away from the windows, ensuring that S.W.A.T. or our snipers couldn't get a sight on him. I'd come to find out that the teller had given him the cash in her drawer, as is protocol, but he'd wanted access to the safe. When she couldn't provide that within his specified time period, Rutledge had locked the place down."
Phoebe remembered hearing that piece of information on the broadcast she'd tuned into. They'd had the man's photograph splashed onto the screen, somehow learning of his ident.i.ty through an unknown source. She could just imagine the fallout from that, but that wasn't the part of Lach's story that held her captivated. It was his perception of what happened next that kept her glued to his recollection.
"I did everything by the book," Lach stated, shaking his head in remorse. "By the time I knew the ident.i.ty of Rutledge's wife, it was too late to contain the situation. Information had leaked to the media and the entire attempted rescue turned into a three ring circus."
"Even I could see how it was going to end, Lach." Phoebe understood that Lach felt guilt over how things had turned out, but she also knew that Lionel Rutledge hadn't planned on living for another day. "The media has a way of turning things to make something out of nothing. They-"
"They did their jobs and reported the facts. I went by protocol, upon the direct orders of my supervisor, and I ended up losing the lives of two more people in the process-not including Lionel. To the public, all they saw was a Congresswoman's husband trying to help his dying wife, Gloria Weaver Rutledge. They saw a daughter whose life was turned upside down by tragedy. They didn't see a deteriorating situation by a desperate man who didn't care if he lived or died that day. Taking Lionel's cues over the phone, it had come down to the moment when a decision had to be made due to his threat of shooting one of the hostages."
Phoebe could see Lach's disbelief at how things had turned out, but knowing him the way she did now, she didn't doubt that he had done what he thought was best at the moment. Looking back and saying what if was always easier. He spoke of following protocol when he shouldn't have, yet if he hadn't he would have been made an example of and that would have ended his career. From what she knew so far, it had but it was by his choice.
"S.W.A.T. had made their way into position through an upper floor window and into a maintenance access panel. They were on the inside and a sniper had a high percentage shot through a vent from above." Lach finally s.h.i.+fted his stance and he turned his head toward her, maybe to watch her reaction. She wasn't sure what he was looking for, but his eyes were almost black with pent up anger. "I was engaged in negotiations when I got word of the clear line of sight and I had no doubt from Lionel's words that he knew it was time. I gave the go signal."
"Lach, I know how this ends," Phoebe whispered, unable to stand the tortured reflection in his voice. "You don't need to relive it."
"We had identified every hostage in that bank but one. The woman in question had her coat hood up over her head when the situation went down and from where Lionel had her seated, the camera angle was impossible to get a picture of her face. We went through every possible scenario, even thinking that he had taken his daughter inside with him. We finally located her on a tour of the campus she was slated on attending." Lach barked out a laugh at what Phoebe a.s.sumed was the implausible turnout of events. "Gloria Weaver's sister had been in that bank the entire f.u.c.king time, aiding Lionel in his quest for G.o.d knows what-only it wasn't Lionel's pursuit."
"You acted on the information you had, Lach." Phoebe could see that her words weren't getting through. "You were relying on other people and even they couldn't have predicted what would happen."
"You mean the fact that when Lionel took that fatal bullet, Jennifer Chartelle lost all reason of sanity and was able to take out one hostage and wound four others before S.W.A.T. neutralized her? You're right, no one could have predicted that, but I sure as h.e.l.l shouldn't have followed protocol that day." Lach finally stepped away from the cold gla.s.s and paced a few steps until he was behind the chair. He leaned down and grabbed the cus.h.i.+on in his fists, as if it was preventing himself from physically beating himself for what had transpired. "I could feel it in my bones that there were more variables. Something more was going on than those based on what the facts were saying. I'd even gotten into words with my supervisor over the course of that day due to the fact that I wanted to put on a vest and go in that building to do a face to face. Lionel Rutledge didn't want to do what he did."
"What do you mean?" Phoebe didn't understand where Lach was going with this. She should know, given her life in the public eye, that there was always more than met the eye. Nevertheless, nothing had given any indication that Lionel had any other ulterior motive. "Lionel was behind you in line. You said so yourself."
"Jennifer Chartelle couldn't face the fact that her sister was dying and she wanted Gloria to go for an experimental drug. Lionel and Gloria were against it, not just because of the money, but that's what Jennifer had come to believe. Lionel didn't go into that bank of his own free will, Phoebe. Jennifer brought in the weapons and forced him to take those people hostage. He thought he was saving those people by doing what she said. That's why he seemed so at ease when I started to indicate that the situation was coming to an end one way or another."
"I take it you got some of the facts from Gloria?" Phoebe asked, knowing that the woman pa.s.sed away not six months after everything that had happened. Phoebe couldn't believe what had really taken place behind the scenes. "I can't imagine she knew what was happening."
"She didn't. Gloria shed some light on her sister's determination to save her, but it was a letter that we found on Lionel's body that confirmed Jennifer's actions." Lach finally released his grip from the cus.h.i.+on, leaving dents in the fabric that indicated his stress level. He straightened and then ran his hands down his face, showing the emotional drainage this had taken upon him. "You can imagine how tore up Gloria was, along with her daughter."
"The last I heard Trinity Rutledge was a student teacher at a local high school out in the suburbs." Phoebe recalled having a conversation with one of the other Senators at one of the fundraising dinners. "As a matter of fact, I think she's getting married next summer."
"To her high school sweetheart," Lach said, providing more information than Phoebe had been privileged to and letting her know that he had been keeping tabs on the young girl. "I needed to know that she was okay. I check up on her once in a while."
"Why wasn't this mentioned in the press?" Phoebe could instantly see the absurdity of her question, but she still needed to ask it. "Why would the media make it seem as if you made the mistake? I remember them saying that the hostage negotiator was to blame for the lives lost."
"Gloria Rutledge had been an up and comer in the political arena. You should know that. She didn't want her sister's name sullied and she had the wherewithal and the means to make sure it didn't materialize. I happened to get caught in the political cover-up."
Phoebe was well aware of how easy it was to cover up a personal matter within the life she and her family led, but she would never have done that at the expense of another's reputation. Anger welled up inside of her and she now understood Lach's torment at seeing his career basically implode.
"That's not fair, Lach." Phoebe leaned forward and set her gla.s.s on the table besides his. "Regardless how sick Gloria was, she had no right to use you as a patsy."
"You're missing the point, Phoebe." Lach seemed almost accepting of what he was about to say, although she could argue whatever point he was trying to make. Misplaced guilt had a way of muddling the truth. "I knew all along that something wasn't right with Lionel Rutledge. I went against my gut and I followed protocol, all the while knowing I should have handled it differently."
"And how would you have handled it then?" Phoebe asked, playing devil's advocate. She watched impatiently as he rounded the chair and picked up the empty bottle, along with the wine gla.s.ses. "What could you possibly have done differently given the facts at the time?"
"I should have gone in."
Phoebe wasn't sure how to reply to that. When Lach made his way into the kitchen and tossed the bottle into the recycling, she quickly followed him and positioned herself on the other side of the counter. She had to have heard wrong.
"Gone in? You mean into the bank? That's insane, Lach. You most likely would have ended up dead at the hands of Jennifer Chartelle." Phoebe could see Lach was serious in his hypothesis. "You said you were ordered to do otherwise. Doing so might have had even worse consequences."
"I would have seen his eyes." Lach set the gla.s.ses in the sink and then placed his palms on the granite, leaning forward to make his point. "I would have seen the tortured anguish he must have been going through. Do you realize he must have seen my gun when I reached into my suit jacket for my wallet? He knew I was an agent, Phoebe. He was trying to tell me something in line and I blatantly ignored him because I was too busy worrying about my day. Had I paid attention that morning, those lives wouldn't have been lost. His life wouldn't have been lost. Trinity might have been left one parent."
"You acted like an everyday normal person, Lach." Phoebe couldn't stand seeing him persecute himself when the press had done that enough. She worked her way around the counter, and although she knew the last thing he wanted was to be touched, she didn't care. She needed to touch him. "That doesn't make you a horrible human being. I'm sorry that you were the one in the bank that day. I'm sorry that you took the fall for a woman who couldn't find a way to deal with a personal loss. What I'm not sorry about is that you are here, with me, and I get the honor of knowing whom the true Lach McKinnon is. I see your suffering and I want to make it go away. Let me ease your pain."
Lach didn't say anything, but instead gathered Phoebe up against him and held her tight. She had her arms around his waist, yet she felt like she was inside of him. He'd opened up a wound that was a part of him and let her in. She wanted to thank him, but she couldn't get the words out around the lump in her throat. She hadn't even realized she'd started crying, but tears ran down her cheeks at what he had to endure alone. She'd have given anything to be a part of his life back then, but fate had seen to it that they were here now.
Phoebe remembered how Lach had given her time to think over where their relations.h.i.+p was headed after he'd told her about his lifestyle and what he needed. He'd listened to hers as well, and although she'd made the decision to want to be a part of his future, he'd said that people changed their minds once reality set in. Would he be sharing the most vulnerable part of his life with her if he wanted out?
Chapter Twenty-Two.
"We stay for an hour and then we're heading to my place," Lach murmured as they stood on the porch of a beautiful Victorian home right on the edge of Minneapolis waiting for someone to answer the door. He'd considered buying up the property a street over, but he wasn't sure he'd have the time to renovate it the way he'd want it. His attention was snagged when Phoebe looked down at what she was wearing twice. "You look fine."
"I love my jeans, but are you sure this sweater looks casual enough?" Phoebe parted her dress coat, while still holding on to the present he'd bought Derrick weeks ago. "I haven't been to this kind of birthday party since I was a teenager and trust me, my Aunt Freda didn't spare any expense."
Lach had picked Phoebe up from her apartment not thirty minutes ago, Secret Service agent in tow. The man was standing on the step and taking in his surroundings. Lach hadn't met him before, but since it was the weekend he was probably up on rotation. Now really wouldn't be a good time to tell him that an officer died across the street at the hands of an international a.s.sa.s.sin. He'd want Phoebe to vacate the premises immediately. Lach figured that her primary agent, who was somewhere in his vehicle close by, already knew the past of every CSA agent and was well aware of their former cases as well. Phoebe's hand on his arm brought Lach's attention back around.
"I'm sorry that I had to work so late last night." She tucked some of her silky blond strands behind her ear and smiled up at him. "But I like your thought process of going back to your place after this. I never did get to open my present."
"Which is why I grabbed it off of the table," Lach replied, unable to continue talking as they heard the door being unlocked. He adjusted his shoulders, easing the pressure of his holster underneath the leather. He really wasn't looking forward to the next hour when he could be at home and have Phoebe bound to his bed, but from the muttered curse word that just came out of the agent's mouth, he wasn't either. "Hi, Lauren."
"Lach!" Lauren s.h.i.+fted Derrick on her hip so that she could wrap one arm around Lach. The loud noise that came from the crowd within indicated the party was in full swing, which was why the agent wasn't too happy. It only made his job harder. "I'm so glad that you're here. Ethan needs therapy and the only one who can get him there is you."
"Ethan needs more than that," Lach said, allowing Lauren to get in her hug. Ever since he'd taken a bullet for her, she'd treated him like royalty. If it didn't ruffle Connor's feathers so much, Lach would have put a stop to it long ago. "Lauren, this is Phoebe. Phoebe, Lauren."
"Does he expand his vocabulary around you?" Lauren said with a twinkle in her green eyes. She winced when Derrick grabbed a hold of one of her auburn locks, his grip looking sticky as well as tight. "It's nice to meet you, Phoebe. This is the man of the hour, Derrick. I'm just the honorary aunt. Please come inside out of the cold."
"It's nice to meet you as well."
Phoebe had her public relations smile displayed on her face. It was one that Lach recognized well and as much as he wanted to rea.s.sure her that she would fit in and that the hour would pa.s.s by quickly, what happened next derailed that by a landslide.
"Did you like the corset I made? The sapphires that I attached around the breast cup came out beautiful, although I did have to make sure they were a couple centimeters away from the edge so they didn't bother your skin." Lauren put Derrick down and holding him steady by the hands, he took three steps toward his mother who was on her knees waiting for him. "Phoebe, this is Derrick's mother, Emily. You know a lot of the men on the team, so it's better to a.s.sociate us to them. I'm Connor's fiancee and Emily is Jax's wife."
"Thank you so much for allowing me to join the party," Phoebe replied with a courtesy smile and nod. She gave no indication that Lauren's talk of the corset had thrown her off of her stride, although he could see Phoebe's fingers tighten on the wrapping paper. He lifted the gift out of her hands and handed it to Lauren. "Lach's told me a lot about all of you."
"We're glad that you're here, Phoebe." Emily picked up Derrick and placed him on her hip, watching with amus.e.m.e.nt as the agent behind them closed the door and took his stance between the exit and a window. "What can I get you to drink? Everyone seems to have congregated in the kitchen, but we're still waiting for Crest, Kevin, and Elle."
"A water will be fine, thank you."
As everyone turned to go through the living room and into the kitchen, Lach put a restraining hand on Phoebe's arm. Not wanting Lauren and Emily to overhear, he slowly took off Phoebe's coat along with his own. He hung them on the coat rack next to where the agent was standing, ignoring what appeared to be a smirk on the man's face. Just because he was Secret Service didn't mean that Lach wouldn't take him out if necessary.
"Phoebe, Lauren's job is to redesign certain items, not unlike your gift. Mainly by adorning them with gems. She usually doesn't do clothing, but I put in a special request."
"And you didn't think you should tell me that before I met her?" Phoebe asked, although the words strung together as more of a hiss. She was running her hands down the front of her denim and fixing what appeared to be nonexistent problem with the hem of her sweater. "Is there anything else I should know?"
Lach sighed audibly when the door opened behind them, revealing Kevin and Elle. The kitchen door swung open at the exact same time and he knew that as everyone filed into the living room, Lauren and Emily had told everyone else that he was here with a woman. Lach had spent some time together sharing his past with Phoebe, but he hadn't really gone into the personal details of the team. What the h.e.l.l had made Lach think this was a good idea?
Phoebe laughed when Derrick plopped into her lap as she was sitting cross-legged on the floor. Lauren and Emily were also in the large circle, the opened presents in the middle with wrapping paper and ribbons strewn everywhere. Derrick loved all of his gifts and couldn't keep his attention on just one. Elle, whom Phoebe had figured out was Kevin's girlfriend upon earlier introductions, was on the couch with Jessie. The men had disappeared back into the kitchen, along with Taryn. The only one who had yet to make an appearance was Gavin Crest.
"I have to say, I haven't had this much fun since, well, I can't remember when," Phoebe said, loving the ease in which the ladies got along. It was refres.h.i.+ng to be around these types of friends versus the formal settings she usually found herself in. That's what they felt like too-friends. "Again, I appreciate you letting me join."
"Are you kidding?" Elle took another bite of her cake before finis.h.i.+ng what she was saying. "You take the pressure off of me. Being the new girl in the group can be hazardous, especially with Ethan around."
"Oh, I wouldn't say..." Phoebe wasn't sure how to proceed with this conversation. Were she and Lach together as in together? Or were they still in the too early stages of this exploration to actually label it? She launched into her public persona. "Lach and I are taking things slow. It's not easy having a Secret Service agent around twenty-four seven when trying to get to know someone."
"I can so relate," Lauren said, leaning back against the base of the couch. "Connor and I met during one of his cases, and honestly things haven't calmed down since."
"You don't even want to know my story," Emily quipped, clapping her hands as Derrick stood once again and wobbled his way over to his mother. "That would take a whole Friday night and two bottles of wine."
"I'm the only normal one here," Jessie said, waving her hand.
"Oh please," Elle replied, reaching behind her to place her empty plate on the side table. "You want to talk about chemistry? The tension between you and-"
"h.e.l.lo, ladies." Crest stood in the doorway, pinning Elle with a stare as if daring her to continue. Much to Phoebe's amazement, the tall beautiful woman with the most stunning raven colored hair she'd ever seen stood and gave the formidable man a hug. He returned the gesture, although Phoebe felt like she missed something important. "Where is the team?"
"In the kitchen," Elle replied, waving a hand in that direction before taking back up her position on the couch. "Go. We're having more fun without you guys. Oh, and Derrick loves the blocks. Thank you very much."
No one spoke a word until Crest had maneuvered his way through the mess, although he did take time to stop and wish Derrick a happy birthday. Jessie had brought Crest's gift with her, a set of large age appropriate building blocks, due to the fact that he knew he would be running late. The little boy had grabbed a hold of the older man's tie and Phoebe was struck by how gentle Crest was in first distracting the boy and then removing it from his grasp. Within seconds the ladies and Derrick were left alone once more.
"There is no way that he isn't in the lifestyle," Elle commented, patting Jessie's leg. Phoebe once again felt a little left out, but remained silent in hopes of garnering more information. "You've got your work cut out for you."
"He's made his position clear," Jessie said, reaching for her water bottle that was on her side of the couch. "I now have to make mine. Can we talk about something else please? How is the club doing now that Elle isn't managing it? Has it fallen into rubble? I haven't been there to play these last few weeks."
Phoebe felt like she'd been slammed in the chest, but she did her best to cover it up. Two things had hit her at once. Elle had been referencing that Jessie and Crest had something going on between them and that Jessie had to be talking about Masters. She focused on the second part of that revelation. Did this mean that Lach wasn't the only one who was into the lifestyle?
"Jax took over the accounting while Eden, the new bartender, does the inventory," Emily said, grabbing a soccer ball from the box of sports b.a.l.l.s that Lach had purchased. She rolled it to Derrick, who was standing in the middle of the uneven circle. "Connor took responsibility for the background checks on the members."
"Um, bear with me, but we are talking about Masters, right?" Phoebe couldn't contain the question and she was grateful when the women didn't blink an eye at her inquiry.
"Jax and Connor are co-owners of the club," Lauren explained, reaching back for a hair tie that Elle was holding out for her. She gathered up her auburn curls and secured them in such a way that the strands were out of her face yet cascaded over the back of her shoulders. "Elle used to manage Masters until she took over for a non-profit organization that offers women a.s.sistance who need help off of the streets."
"You run the Crescent Foundation, right?" Elle asked, leaning forward with excitement. "I'd love to share ideas with you sometime."
"I'd like that," Phoebe replied, meaning every word. She was still reeling from the information she'd just learned, but she didn't feel comfortable asking too many questions. She would certainly speak with Lach about it, considering he'd left out some very important information. "I haven't been to the offices lately, but I plan to stop by next week if you'd like a tour. It's nothing fancy, but you could meet the volunteers that I have on staff."
"Too much testosterone in there," Taryn muttered, bursting through the door. Phoebe had met her earlier and loved her feistiness. She gave as good as she got with the men, never backing down. "Ethan is driving me crazy."
"He's worried about you," Emily said, lifting her knees up to her chest so that Taryn could squeeze by on her way to the couch. Derrick followed her and then made a squeal when she picked him up. Taryn settled herself in between Jessie and Elle, Derrick on her lap as he tried to take her gla.s.ses. "We all are."
"I'm fine," Taryn declared, finally allowing Derrick to have her eyegla.s.ses. It didn't interest him long and he dropped them in her lap, crawling down her legs to play with something else. He wobbled his way on unsteady feet to pick up another new toy. "Phoebe, tell us, does Lach say more than ten words to you?"
"Yes," Phoebe responded with a laugh at how Taryn had gracefully changed the subject. "Although he does revert back to his standard, especially when dealing with the agents a.s.signed to me. I think he scares the Secret Service."
A cough sounded from the entryway and Phoebe flushed, realizing that the agent could hear every word that was said. Having someone around twenty-four seven was wrong on so many levels, but she knew it was necessary. It was so nice not to have to worry about who she was with this group of women. They hadn't asked her once about her father or the campaign.
"It's too quiet in here," Ethan announced as he swung open the door and s.n.a.t.c.hed Derrick off of the ground. The little boy screamed his delight and clapped his hands. The other men followed, Lach bringing up the rear. Phoebe had thought that he and Crest were the only ones carrying, but something made her think they were all armed in some way. It most likely had to do with the man they were looking for and not the fact that she was here. It had occurred to her that who she was might pose a problem for them. "Phoebe, what's your secret on making McKinnon talk? I heard him actually carry on a conversation with you earlier."
Lach flipped Ethan off behind Derrick's head. Phoebe thought it funny that there was a jar full of one-dollar bills on a side table labeled cuss jar. The only one to have to put one in this afternoon had been Jax when Ethan came out of the kitchen with popcorn. She wasn't sure what the joke was with that, but she found herself so entertained by this group that she figured she'd find out sooner or later. At least she hoped.
"Dollar," Emily quipped, hitting Lach on the back of the calf.
"I didn't say a word."
"Flipping the bird counts." Emily leaned back against Jax when he took a seat behind her. "Ask Jax. That's how he thought he'd get around it when Connor would show up unexpected."
"What can I say?" Jax replied with a shrug. "I allow her to run a tight s.h.i.+p everywhere but the bedroom."
Emily must have pinched him somehow, some way, because Jax grabbed both of her hands and then playfully bit her neck. It struck Phoebe how at ease everyone was and how they'd gone out of their way to make her feel the same. When she glanced up at Lach who was holding his hands out to her, his dark eyes contained a mixture of emotions. One being that they'd overstayed their welcome and that he wanted her back at his place to continue where they'd left off two nights prior. Her body instantly reacted and she placed her hands within his.
"Speaking of the bedroom," Lach murmured against Phoebe's ear once she was standing, "I think we're well overdue for some time to ourselves. You have thirty seconds to say goodbye to everyone or I'm not responsible for my actions."
Chapter Twenty-Three.
"You left out quite a bit of information about your group of friends," Phoebe said as they walked down the hallway to Lach's apartment. The building had been located on the other side of the city and although it didn't have the amenities that hers did, she loved the antique fas.h.i.+oned hallways. It made her feel as if she were back in time. "Do they all attend Masters?"
Phoebe appreciated that Lach had shortened his stride so that she could keep up. She figured he must have an end unit considering they were still walking and coming up on the end of the hallway. She did notice that his door was slightly different than the others, although he used a key to enter just the same. Lach refrained from answering her question as he spoke with Thornton. She and Lach had waited an additional five minutes in their car as Thornton had arrived to take up the other agent's position.
"Is that necessary?" Phoebe asked as Thornton went into Lach's apartment to apparently search the premises. "The other agent didn't search Jax's place."
"He did, once he knew you were secure in the living room," Lach replied, leaning a shoulder against the wall as he spoke. "You were having too much fun to notice."
CSA Case Files: Campaign of Desire Part 12
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CSA Case Files: Campaign of Desire Part 12 summary
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