Falling For A Donovan (The Donovans Book 14) Page 11

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Bailey asked. “Why didn’t you say something before…before…”

  Her voice cracked and Dev willed himself to remain still. He didn’t like that sound and he hated the look on her face as she questioned her cousin. She wanted to know why he’d waited and let Jaydon and Roslyn kidnap her. Dev wanted to know that too?

  “You could have stopped what happened to her. Why didn’t you?” he asked.

  Cade shook his head. “I wasn’t officially investigating the case at that point. I had to connect Roslyn to the murders in Miami and then I had to find another thread, something that would make this either a pattern or an interstate concern. I read about the fire at Uncle Henry’s place and then decided to tell my dad what was going on. I wanted to know if his cousins had confided in him about any of this mess. He didn’t know, but he was pissed off enough to pick up the phone to call Uncle Albert to find out what the hell was going on with him and his brothers. That’s when we found out Uncle Albert had the heart attack. Dakota called Brandon, but he told her that everything was under control and that Uncle Albert was going to be just fine. But that’s when I decided to look into both of the fires.”

  “Brandon didn’t tell me your sister had called him. My father could have died that night,” Bailey said, again her voice the barest of whispers.

  “Roslyn Ausby’s prints were found on the knife and the book of matches she’d dropped outside of the house,” Cade told them.

  “How did you find that out?” Dev asked because one of the first things Trent had asked him to do after the fire at his parents’ house, was to find a link to prove Roslyn had started the fire.

  Trent would have liked to see the woman dead, but behind bars for arson would have been just as good. Because the local police and fire department were also investigating, Dev had to be careful of the questions he was asking and who he was asking them of. If not, more information about Roslyn’s connection to the Donovan family may have been revealed. That wasn’t an option for Dev. The family had been through enough, the world didn’t need to know that infidelity, blackmail and lies had led to more than one murder, a house bombing and a house fire.

  Dev had one inside track into the Las Vegas Police Department and that was Detective Kyle McAlister. He was the one who had obtained the warrant to get the records that proved Jaydon was in Las Vegas two days after the fire at Henry Donovan’s house. Kyle had never mentioned any fingerprints being found at the house though, which means that the FBI must have circumvented that information.

  “You took over the case from the LVPD, didn’t you?” Dev asked.

  Cade shrugged. “Three weeks ago officially. With Roslyn’s fingerprints at the scene of the fire in Las Vegas and that warrant you obtained proving that Jaydon was also in L.A. around that time, I was able to link them to what happened back in Miami, formally making this a federal investigation.”

  “Oh my god,” Bailey said as she pulled her hand away from her cousin’s.

  “Nobody told us you had been taken, Bailey,” Cade said in a tone that rang with irritation. “I had to find that out on the damn news!”

  “The family wanted to keep it private. We knew we were going to find her,” Dev told him.

  Cade shook his head, then he let out a nervous chuckle. “That’s what you guys always think, isn’t it? From the start Uncle Henry and his brothers have been keeping everything a secret, when if they’d just told someone, my dad or Uncle Gabe, somebody, we all could have helped end this a long time ago.”

  Dev wasn’t going to comment on that statement. He didn’t care about the past. This time he did move to where Bailey had slid slowly onto the couch. He stood beside her but resisted the urge to touch her. He only wanted her to know that he was there and that if she needed to, she could lean on him. Why that was so important to him, why some of the tension that had been knotted in the pit of his stomach since the moment he’d watched her wrap her arms around this guy, unfurled, Dev couldn’t say. He only knew that he felt better standing where he was and looking over at this new Donovan.

  “Look, we need to move forward from now on,” Dev said. “Things have taken a shitty turn and if something isn’t done soon—”

  Cade interrupted, “It’s going to get worse before it gets better,” he said. “I heard about what happened at the cabin. I know Tia’s been shot. In fact, my dad was thinking about flying out to Los Angeles just before I left. But Aunt Birdie called and he was immediately distracted.”

  “Oh no, please don’t say he told her.” Bailey groaned.

  “No,” Cade replied and shook his head. “He didn’t tell her because it seems all of them were taught how to keep secrets at some point in their lives.”

  Bailey sighed. “Good. The last thing we need is for Aunt Birdie to come out of hiding. All hell would most definitely break loose then.”

  “So you still didn’t say how you knew where to find us,” Dev commented.

  “It was simple,” Cade told him. “Bailey has never been a quitter and neither have you. When I talked to my Aunt Beverly on the phone while she was at the hospital, she told me that she’d instructed you to take Bailey to a hotel to get some rest, I knew that wasn’t going to be the end of it. You’ve had Trent’s back for far too long to let his wife get shot and not head out for retribution and Bailey’s just too damn stubborn to have let you come alone. Plus, I already knew where Roslyn had given birth to both her children and that Dane had a house just outside the city.”

  It was logical, Dev thought. And this guy was an FBI agent. Dev didn’t like the Feds. They had too many rules and too much paperwork. But he could respect their part in the justice system.

  “What’s your plan now?” he asked him.

  “I just wanted to let you know that we’re involved now. You don’t have any official orders to go after Ausby,” he said.

  When Dev would have interjected, Cade put up a hand to stall his words.

  “I know it’s futile to try and stop you. But I am warning you that whatever you do, however this goes down, you’ll fall alone. None of the agencies are going to back your investigation. So think about that before you get gun happy again and shoot before thinking. I’m heading to Chicago in a couple of hours. I want to talk to Elder Ausby to help get a better idea of Roslyn Ausby before I can complete my profile.”

  “So you’re leaving? Already?” Bailey asked.

  Cade smiled. “I’ve got an hour before I need to be at the airport.”

  “Good,” she said as she stood and once again wrapped her arms around the guy. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

  Cade kissed the top of Bailey’s head and he hugged her close. “I know. I was worried about you, Boss Lady.”

  Bailey laughed. “I haven’t heard that name in years.”

  “Well you’re hearing it now. You still think you’re the boss, taking off and not telling the family where you were going. Shame on you,” he easily chastised her.

  They pulled away from each other and Bailey looked up at him. “She has to be stopped. She’s hurting too many people.”

  Cade nodded. “I agree.”

  And so did Dev.

  “I’m gonna go downstairs and make some calls while you two catch up,” Dev told them and headed to the door. “I’ll be back later.”

  Chapter 8

  The shower had been relaxing even if Bailey had been constantly wondering where Devlin was. An hour had passed since he’d been gone. Cade had left about ten minutes ago. It had been wonderful to see her cousin after so many years apart. There were so many members of the Donovan family that Bailey hadn’t seen in far too long. She wondered if there would ever be family reunions where all of them met up the way her father said they used to do when he was young.

  Cade and the Feds were investigating Roslyn now. So that meant the search she and Devlin were on was officially over. It was a relief to know that there was a federal agency employing a dozen or so agents—Cade had mentio
ned that was the size of his team—to find and bring Roslyn to justice. It was at the same time a little alarming for Bailey on another level. If they were no longer looking for Roslyn then there was no need for her to stay here with Devlin. She could return to her apartment and her bird in Connecticut or she could go and stay with Brock or Brandon. Both of them wanted her with them, but for how long would that last? Wrapping the towel around her head and rubbing briskly to help dry her hair, Bailey thought about that.

  Her job was in Connecticut with D&D Investigations. Sure, her case load had been substantially lighter in the last four months because she’s been consumed with her father and brothers and their part in this mess, but she did have a job. And yes, this was a mess. Bailey still didn’t know how she felt about learning that Roslyn had been the one to kill her mother and that her father had withheld that from her and her brothers. Brandon and Brock seemed to have moved past that, especially after Albert had explained why he’d kept the secret. Fear and disbelief had gripped him for the years prior to Darla’s death and then after she was gone, he’d locked away all of the facts that lead to Roslyn, in the hopes that with that one tragic event the woman would slink away forever. But that’s not how crazy worked, Bailey thought.

  In fact, Roslyn, and her mentally distorted mind worked in a totally different fashion. She and Cade had talked a little about Roslyn and her type of mental illness. Cade had a pretty accurate profile of Roslyn going at this moment, although he continued to say it wasn’t complete.

  “I know that this attention she’s always craved, this validation, has not yet been matched. The death of her daughter can either be a catalyst for her to completely spiral out of control, or yet another event that has her retreating within her own mind,” Cade had said as they’d sat on the couch.

  “What happens if she retreats into her own mind? Does that mean she’ll go away and leave us alone?” Bailey had asked.

  Cade shrugged. “It means her illness will most likely take over her life. She would be a walking and talking time bomb, able to explode with the least amount of provocation.”

  “So you’re saying it’s safer if she just spirals out of control now? How is that possible? That means she’ll continue to come after us,” Bailey had said then, her fingers gripping her knees as she leaned forward and shook her head.

  “I’m saying it’s safer for everyone if we catch her. If, after I speak to her family in Chicago, I discover that my profile is accurate, the best case scenario is for us to find Roslyn and have her put away. There is no getting better for this woman, only two different cliffs she’ll tumble over in a matter of time.”

  Bailey sighed now as she recalled the conversation. She continued to work the towel over her hair, absorbing more of the water from the thick strands. The large duffel bag Devlin had purchased for her to put all the items Camille had sent was on the floor near the door. With bare feet and another towel wrapped around her body she moved to the bag in an attempt to find something else to put on. It had been early evening when they’d returned to the hotel from seeing Dane and now it was close to dinner time. Or at least she was certain that’s what Devlin would say, whenever he returned. She was beginning to worry about where he’d gone. Not because she thought something might have happened to him, but because things had been a little strained between them when they’d entered the hotel room and Cade’s appearance had only seemed to irritate Devlin more.

  As if that were possible, she thought as she knelt down to go through the duffel bag. Devlin was a complex man, she reminded herself. Minimal words, quick and assertive actions and deep dark secrets. Each time Bailey looked into his eyes she could see them there in the shadows. There was nothing else revealed. Not in his words or his actions, that would solidify that fact, but Bailey knew. Something had happened to him—because surely no one was born this withdrawn and edgy—somewhere along the road of his life there had been a drastic change, and the future for Devlin Bonner was set. A part of her wondered what that was and wanted to know if she could possibly change it. That was silly. Of course Bailey knew that one person couldn’t change another. Change had to be desired to be achieved. Devlin didn’t think there was anything wrong with the way he was living. Bailey begged to differ, but what the hell was she supposed to do about it? And why was she even considering doing anything about it in the first place?

  She was through with bad boys. She’d told herself that so many times before. They weren’t good for her, no matter how instantaneously she seemed to be drawn to them. They broke her heart and left her to pick up the pieces. They took parts of her that she’d never offered to anyone before and discarded them like a used napkin. They meant her no good, ever. With clothes in both hands, Bailey dropped her head at the thought. The voice in her head sounded just as she presumed her mother would have if she’d lived and Bailey had gone to her for advice. Because even though her aunts loved her dearly and Bailey loved and respected them, Darla was the only woman that Bailey would ever have gone to for advice on men. That’s because Bailey had always thought her father was the perfect husband. Funny how most of the things she’d believed had changed because of one lunatic woman.

  The muffled sound outside the bathroom door had Bailey going still. Forgotten was her wet hair, her track record with bad boys and what clothes she was about to put on. Her body was poised now, her ears perked as she leaned a little further in the direction of the door, listening. Someone was in the other room. She could hear their footsteps even over the plush carpet. It was Devlin she thought. It had to be.

  Of course, she told herself as she grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it quickly over her head. It came just beneath her butt, but that was coverage enough she thought as she left the bag with the rest of her clothes and the used towels behind and headed for the door. She touched the knob slowly, wishing she had some sort of weapon with her, just in case the person on the other side of the door wasn’t Devlin. That was silly, she told herself with one last shake of her head. Nobody knew she was here besides Devlin. Of course, Cade had found them, but he was FBI and he’d actually found them using NSA surveillance cameras his team had access to when looking for a serial killer. Now, Roslyn hadn’t actually fallen into that category, Cade had told her, but he’d fudged it a bit with his unit chief because he’d wanted to get his eyes on her sooner, rather than later. All events for the last few weeks considered, Bailey figured that made sense.

  Bailey yanked the door open at that moment thinking that maybe she was being beyond silly standing there as if she thought there was some type of intruder in her hotel room. She took a few steps out and then came to a stop, her hand quickly going over her mouth.

  The lights in the room had been turned off, the curtains at the windows drawn tight, the door closed. The soft golden illumination came from dozens of candles that had been lit and positioned around the room. There were short stubby candles, medium sized fat ones, some in jars and some with a soft vanilla fragrance that now filled the air. And on the table right next to the bed there was a threesome of tall candles—one red, one blue and one white. Bailey had never seen anything like this. Nor had she ever walked up to a king-size bed to see long stemmed red roses tossed haphazardly over the cream colored comforter. All of it had a smile ghosting her lips as she reached a hand down and lifted one of the flowers. Bringing it to her nose she sniffed the fragrant bud and was about to twirl the stem in her hand like some fairy tale maiden, when a thorn pricked her finger. She yelped and dropped the flower instantly. Bringing her finger up closer to her face she saw the spot of blood and was just about to bring it to her mouth, when a heavy arm came around her, strong fingers grabbing her wrist.

  He didn’t turn her around, only moved so that he could put that bloody tipped finger into his mouth instead. He suckled slowly and deeply while Bailey struggled to keep her knees from buckling. She could feel the heat emanating from his body behind her. It draped around her like a sheet and yet she still shivered and closed her eyes.

&n
bsp; “You’re a mysterious man, Devlin Bonner,” she finally whispered when he pulled her finger slowly from between his lips.

  “You’re a dangerous woman, Bailey Donovan,” was his gruff response.

  She turned around to look up at him and asked, “What is all this?”

  “This,” he said grabbing the hem of her t-shirt with both hands, “is what you get for giving me a taste.”

  He lifted the shirt quickly up and over her head, dropping it to the floor beside them.

  “I warned you in the beginning,” he continued as his calloused hands cupped her breasts. “I told you to stay away from me.”

  She’d sucked in a breath because his motions had been so quick, his hands warm but strong as they moved over her.

  “I didn’t follow you,” she replied before licking her now dry lips.

  Devlin had been staring down at her breasts, watching his thick dark skinned hands kneading her soft lighter toned flesh. His head shot up at her words.

  “I didn’t want you,” he told her, snarling down at her as if she’d actually insulted him.

  “Then you should have walked away,” she replied and saw the moment her smart retort affected him.

  It was in his eyes, the normally dark and ominous orbs that only told the story of how dangerous this man could be when crossed and even when not. A light had appeared, like a lightening streak through the darkness. His lips spread thin, the smile more salacious than humorous, possibly a little disarming.

  “That’s my girl,” he said. “That’s why I couldn’t walk away.”

  One of his hands moved swiftly down her torso, settling like a glove over the V of her juncture. Bailey didn’t budge even though she wanted to squirm until his fingers moved through her slit, touching, caressing and pleasuring beyond her wildest dreams. Instead she stood perfectly still.

  “That’s why you’re standing here now. Why you won’t let me go,” she said, knowing that her words sounded like a taunt, and loving how that thought made her feel.