Shadows (Black Raven Book 1) (29 page)

Skye approached the table, but before touching anything, she paused and glanced at Spring.

Damn
, Sebastian thought.
Skye is asking for permission
. He caught Doctor Shilling’s eyes. She met his for a brief moment, before refocusing her attention on Spring. The doctor was standing about five feet from the dining area, studying everything that was happening.

With both hands extended, Skye reached for two large bowls, hesitating slightly before touching it. When Spring met her eyes and gave her sister an almost imperceptible nod, Skye picked up the two bowls.

The subtleties were lost on Agent Reiss, who walked up to the table, and reached for two bowls before Skye, Sebastian, or Doctor Schilling could say anything. Sebastian moved fast, grabbing Reiss by the shoulder and pulling him back, but not before Candy stood and snarled at him, as Spring screamed, “NOOOOOOO. NoNoNo. Don’t touch, don’t touch. Don’t touch. Don’t touch. Don’t touch.”

Holy crap
, Sebastian thought. “Reiss. Back further away.”

“Spring,” Skye said, grabbing her sister and holding her in a bear hug. “He’s not going to touch.”

Agent Reiss stepped into the adjoining living room. Sebastian joined him and Schilling there, giving Skye and Spring space. As Spring’s ‘no’s’ devolved into a long, loud, one-word string, he glanced at Doctor Schilling. “I saw this yesterday. Skye says this kind of anxiety attack is typical.”

Agent Reiss looked like he wanted to run away. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help.”

Doctor Shilling explained, “There’s an order to everything she does. She’s got her own protocol.”

“You should have observed that. We don’t just watch. We assess.” Sebastian said, automatically slipping into instructor mode. “If you don’t understand, ask questions.”

“She looks so normal,” Reiss said, “I forgot that she’s,” he paused, struggling for words, “different.”

Sebastian’s eyes met Skye’s. She was across the large room, but the flash of pain he saw there indicated that she heard the agent’s assessment.

“And that is a mistake you’re not going to make again,” Sebastian said, assessing Reiss, gauging the depth of concern he saw in the young agent’s green eyes, and deciding there was enough. “Correct?”

“You are correct,” Reiss said. “Sir.”

“Doctor Schilling,” Sebastian said. “While the sisters are in our care, Spring is your charge. Your one and only job from here on out is Spring; do you understand? Do everything in your power to make sure an incident like that does not happen again. Manage her world and all who enter it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now that Agent Reiss realizes the gravity of the situation,” Sebastian said, his eyes returning to Skye, who was comforting Spring and trying to quiet her as she broke into a fresh string of no’s. “Reiss will be your backup. Unless Spring doesn’t want him near her. If that’s the case, you’re to find a replacement for Reiss, someone both sisters find acceptable.”

“No, NONONONO,” silence. “No.” More silence. “I want to go home. To the bakery. I want Daniel and Sarah.”

The pain in Skye’s eyes, for a fleeting second, was palpable. “I told you we can’t go back there for a few days.”

Spring dropped her voice to a whisper and said, “I want to go to the lake house and I want to go there now.”

If his hearing hadn’t been so sharp, he wouldn’t have heard it, and if he’d been able to tear his attention from the sisters, he’d have missed Skye’s expression when Spring said ‘lake house.’

Her gray-green eyes flashed to Sebastian. Color drained from her face. She froze, as though Spring had tossed a ball in the air, and Skye was watching to see whether it would hit him. It did—smack dab in the freaking forehead and reignited his belief that Skye knew something that could help him find their father.

Whatever was at the lake house, he needed to know. Maybe it was nothing, but maybe, just maybe, that’s where Barrows had stored the backup that federal agents had never managed to find. He could ask Skye, but the more direct route was to send an agent there and figure it out on his own. “Ragno. Figure out which of the Barrows’ family assets would be considered a lake house.”

“Will do,” Ragno said.

Louder, Spring said, “Please, Skye. Please. Can we go to the lake house now? Please? Pleeeeeeaaaaasssseeeee?”

The desperation that he saw in Skye’s eyes ice-picked through his heart. He wanted to help her placate Spring, but had no idea how. Well, he had an idea, because Skye had done that for her sister. He’d plucked them out of that world the day before. He couldn’t make their lives return to the picture perfect world of Creative Confections, if he couldn’t find their father.

“In a few days, yes,” Skye said. He watched her draw a deep breath, put her hand on Spring’s shoulder, and rest her forehead on her sister’s forehead. “But we can’t go today.”

“Sebastian,” Ragno said, “the report is starting.”

“We have so much to do here,” Skye continued, “There’s more than a hundred agents here, and tonight they’re going to have your cupcakes for dessert. If you’re going to make them look perfect, you need to get started now.”

Spring sniffed, looked at the cupcakes, and gave her sister a nod. “We need to bake more.”

“Can I help do that?” Doctor Schilling asked.

Skye glanced at her, “Do you have time?”

“Of course. I’d love to bake cupcakes,” she said, “and I’d love to watch Spring decorate them.” Schilling focused on Spring, and said, “Do you mind if I help?”

As Spring gave the doctor a small nod of approval, pulled her earphones on, and returned her attention to the bowls of icing, some of Sebastian’s tension eased. Skye needed relief, or at least a few minutes of quiet sleep, and Spring’s acceptance of Schilling was going to make that easier.

He reached for the remote, and turned up the television volume, as Reiss handed him a plate that was loaded with scrambled eggs and a fork. Evidently, the young agent had learned his habits and knew he didn’t normally sit to eat. Not while on the job, and he was always on the job.

As he took the plate from Reiss, he glanced at Skye. “Would it be better if I sat with you and Spring?”

Skye gave him a quick headshake. “No. We’ll eat later. Thank you.”

“Anything else?” Reiss asked.

Sebastian shook his head, eating the eggs as he stood, his attention focused on the television as he watched five talking heads, presumably experts on private security contracting firms, being introduced by the anchor. The show flashed to an aerial view of buildings that were identified as Federal Correctional Institution-Mississippi.

A male reporter was standing outside the prison. “Two prisoners remain at large. Details, at this time, are still coming in. What we do know is that seven prisoners escaped four days ago. Two remain at large. Vincent Biondo and Richard Barrows.” Details followed about Biondo and the suspicion that, after he escaped, he killed one of the witnesses in his prosecution.

Skye joined Sebastian in the living room, standing close, facing the TV just as he was, her arms folded, her attention on the screen. She stood so close to him he could almost feel her body warmth.

A fresh wave of vanilla and almond aroma enveloped him, and his body responded with a flood of desire. Goddammit. He forced himself to stop thinking about sex with Skye, and to start thinking about her reaction to what the reporters were saying about her father. He gave her a sideways glance. Nothing there, except intense worry, both for what was on the screen and whether her sister was paying attention. He followed her eyes to a backward glance at Spring, who was focused on the table and, thankfully, not the television.

He ate the last bite of eggs. “Have you eaten?”

She shook her head. “Not hungry.”

Maybe she’d have an appetite later, after Minero’s interview. He made a mental note to tell Schilling he hadn’t seen Skye eat in the twenty-four hours that they’d been together. He doubted Spring could hear the television over whatever was playing on her earphones, but as Agent Reiss took away his empty plate, he lowered the volume a bit, Skye’s eyes falling on him as he did so.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He had the irrational desire to tell her it was going to be all right, but the truth was, until he found her father and returned him to prison, he didn’t know how the hell anything could possibly be right.

She broke their eye contact first, as the reporter continued, “Richard Barrows is the more notorious of the escapees. He needs no introduction on this news network. Conspiracy theorists across the country are rejoicing at his escape. A rally is ongoing at the site of the former BY Laboratories.”

The video flashed to a scene of demonstrators in a parking lot, a large, empty slab for a building behind them. “The demonstrators are wearing baseball caps that are lined and covered with foil, a symbol that is universally associated with Barrows and his theory that technology can read brain waves.”

As the camera focused on a man with a foil-lined baseball cap, holding a sign that said, ‘#RichardBarrows’ and ‘#RichardBarrowsfreeforever,’ the reporter continued, “Yes, theories abound. Hashtag Richard Barrows and variations of it are now trending on social media outlets. One theory is that he was rescued by extraterrestrial life. Another is that the government staged his escape so that he can continue working on high-security data and protection efforts. Government officials are emphasizing that Barrows never worked on government contracts, and that his claims of excessive government surveillance are incorrect. In the nine o’clock hour we’re dedicating a segment exclusively to Barrows, the man, his work, and his claims—credible and incredible.”

Sebastian glanced at Skye. “You ever wear a cap like that?”

Her cheeks flushed an absolutely riveting shade of pink, matching the color of her sweater, which made him think, again, about her nipples.
Damn
. His one-track mind kept dragging him back to her breasts. It was only with willpower that he focused on her eyes, which revealed fear and anxiety and something else that was more troubling.

Hurt.

Dammit.

He wished he could take back the tease, but his words were out there, effectively delivering the same ridicule that was in the voice of the reporter. Without saying anything, she refocused on the television, her absolute silence in response to his jest more effective at making him feeling like an asshole that any words she could have said.

“I’m sure she took that well,” Ragno said, sarcasm flag flying high in her tone. “Now say you’re sorry.”

He almost followed Ragno’s instruction, but he had a much bigger thing to apologize for, and he didn’t want to dilute the effectiveness of that doozie. Instead of following Ragno’s advice, he clamped his mouth shut and focused on the television.

A headshot of Root appeared on the screen. The reporter continued, “And there may be more to the story of Barrows’ escape. A missing person’s report has been filed on Jennifer Root, the attorney who represented Barrows.” He paused. “So far, no connection has been established between Barrows’ escape and Root’s disappearance. This show’s focus is on private security contracting firms, how they operate, and why they’re given free rein. Frankly, the show’s focus is on how they’re able to create such a mess.”

Skye glanced at him and gave him a slight smile, which didn’t come close to making it to her eyes. “Seems like they’re taking pot shots at what’s near and dear to both of us this morning. Nice to not be alone for once.”

“Ragno,” Sebastian ripped his eyes from Skye as he refocused on the television screen. “We better already know everything they’re going to say.”

The camera flashed back to the prison where Barrows had been imprisoned. “Earlier this year, the Bureau of Prisons Committee, headed by Senator Robert McCollum, hired Black Raven Private Security Contractors to take over security at twenty federal prisons. This is the first contract of its kind, and there’s already been a glitch. A big glitch. We’ve tried to contact the committee members, including Senator McCollum himself. So far, no one has agreed to an interview. Peter,” the reporter said, referring to the anchor in the studio. “Tell us what we know about Black Raven.”

The camera cut to a young, good-looking male anchor in the studio. “Black Raven is fifteen years old. Sebastian Connelly founded it. For a short time, he was a New Orleans police officer. He studied to become a lawyer as he ascended the ranks in the NOPD. Upon graduating from law school, he quit the police force and started Black Raven, providing bodyguard, security, and investigative services. His work was mostly local, and his company was small, with fewer than fifty employees, until September 11, 2001.”

The anchor looked into the camera with steady, practiced sincerity. “From Black Raven’s inception the company specialized in providing security services to oil companies, relationships Connelly developed due to his proximity to the oil fields of the Gulf of Mexico. Those oil companies have international holdings, and after September 11, 2001, the oil companies needed heightened security in the Middle East, which became the Wild West for men like Connelly. He struck gold by becoming a major player there.”

With a photograph of Sebastian appearing over his left shoulder, the studio anchor continued. “Connelly is smart, charismatic, skilled, and ruthless. He’s widely regarded as an expert at threat assessment and personal security. Black Raven is an exclusive outfit, providing security services to executives, celebrities, and wealthy people across the globe, and not just on-site protection and transport. Black Raven isn’t simply a bodyguard service. Their services include high-stakes protection, technology-driven investigations, design and installation of digital security systems, and off-site monitoring. The Bureau of Prisons was using them for security system installation. The prison break occurred during the conversion from the BOP security system to the Black Raven system.”

Skye glanced at Sebastian, “So your system wasn’t in place?”

“No,” he frowned, “We had about one day remaining on the installation.”

She held his gaze. “If it wasn’t your system that failed, why are you taking this so personally?”

“When Black Raven is on the premises, we’re accountable. Which means I’m accountable.”

The reporter continued, “And now to our panel of experts.”

As the reporter introduced the five talking heads, each was pictured on the screen. Two were actually on Black Raven’s payroll, a fact that wasn’t obvious from public records. He recognized the other two and knew their backstory. The fifth so-called expert, introduced as Clint Whittaker, was an unknown. As the show progressed, Whittaker was the most vocal and the most argumentative.

One of the ‘experts’ who was actually on Black Raven’s payroll said, “Like most private security contracting firms, Black Raven’s methods are, at times, unconventional. But they fill gaps left by governmentally-sanctioned law enforcement forces.”

Another of ‘his’ experts nodded in agreement and said, “In these unconventional times, security firms need to use nonconventional methods.”

One of the less-friendly experts said, “Yes, but focus on this prison break. By all accounts, Black Raven botched the job.”

“Not true,” a friendlier expert said. “Black Raven was hired precisely to prevent this type of situation. Their security system wasn’t yet online. This isn’t their fault.”

“My sources indicate that Black Raven was on the premises when the prison break occurred. More important than that is what happened after,” Whittaker said, his loud, indignant voice breaking into the conversation, “which proves Black Raven’s manhunt capabilities are questionable, at best.”

Sebastian’s blood started a slow simmer as the verbal war continued. “Because they’ve been unable to find Biondo, a witness on Biondo’s prosecution has been killed. Yesterday there was a shoot-out in an Atlanta suburb, on a busy street. Preliminary reports suggest that it is related to the prison break. Connelly himself was on site after the shoot-out. If local or federal officials had been involved, perhaps the scene would have been contained better. Black Raven agents are not opposed to using lethal force-”

“Lethal force is sometimes necessary, and there’s a deputizing clause in Black Raven’s contracts that spells out that they have authority to use any type of force possessed by the contracting individual or governmental agency-”

“Even local officials use lethal force-”

One of the not-so-friendly experts managed to talk above the others. “But private security firms like Black Raven do so without regard to public safety. They’re not trained in public safety. They’re trained in protecting their clients at all cost, and there’s a big difference.”