Page 42 of Liaising Kai

In the distance, he heard sirens.

“Davis?” Kai called out.

“In here,” he responded. When she came around the desk, he indicated the corpse. “It’s Finch.”

She nodded, then whirled as the bookcase slid open and a man appeared. “Federal agents!” Her gun automatically whipped up in a lightning-quick move. “Hands!” she ordered, and he raised them.

Davis rose to back her up, but it was clear this man wasn’t a threat. “What is going on?” he demanded, unable to see behind the bulk of the desk.

“Who are you?” Kai asked, not relenting on her stance or her grip on the gun.

“Drake Finch. My dad shut us in the panic room without an explanation. Where is he?”

Kai lowered her gun, then holstered it. The four agents appeared at the door, Austin eying the guy in the open area between the bookcases. “The rest of the house is clear. It’s empty.”

Davis came out from behind the desk. “Drake, your dad is dead,” he said, delivering the news.

Drake blinked several times, his face crumpling. “What? This makes no sense. Why?”

A woman came around behind Drake. “Where is my husband?”

“Ma’am, it’s best if?—”

She ignored him and rushed to the desk. When she saw Finch, she clutched her stomach and screamed. “Barlow! No!” She tried to push in between Davis and Kai, but he held her back.

“Ma’am, this is a crime scene.”

“How did this happen? What is going on?” she pleaded as she clawed at his arm, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Mom,” Drake said, coming over, blinking rapidly, his face paling when he saw his dad. Swallowing hard, he pulled her away from the desk toward the door. “Come on.” He led her over to a wingback chair and helped her to sit down. She rocked back and forth as she cried. Davis knew this was only the beginning for them. Once everything came out, they would be pariahs in the community and across the country.

He crossed to the bookcase and saw the door to the panic room ajar. He entered, discovering the rest of Finch’s family. They identified themselves as his daughter, Michelle, her husband, his daughter-in-law, the wife of Drake, his other son, Prescott, and his wife. Then there were four grandchildren. He could only be grateful that the desk obscured the view of their grandfather. He ushered them all out of the study, Kai coaxing Drake and Mrs. Finch out as well.

By then, police cars were pulling up outside, and the sound of running feet echoed in the foyer. Davis already had his badge out, his hands up. As the police officers thundered into the living room, bristling with weapons, Davis shouted firmly, “Federal agents.”

For the next twenty minutes, more police arrived. Ambulances and a fire truck had responded to the calls from the uniforms who had arrived at the scene after Mrs. Finch called the cops from the landline phone in the panic room.

After what had happened in Ecuador, he was taking no chances. Everyone was going to Pendleton until they sorted out all the information they could glean from them through interviews. They would be much safer on the base than if they were outside of it.

He swallowed hard at the line of bodies on the driveway, the hapless security who had been gunned down by who he suspected was the armed wing of the yet unnamed cartel, the Los Esmeraldas. The memory of Roberto’s children haunted him, sending heat into his gut, twisting it with the need for justice, and he was determined nothing was going to happen to the rest of the Finches, especially those four innocent grandchildren.

As they were loading the family into a van, Jason nudged him. “Looks like someone’s in a hurry.” A dark SUV barreled down the slate driveway. A red light pulsed from the dash and the vehicle maneuvered around the other cars there.

The SUV stopped, the light still flashing, and from the passenger side, US Attorney Leigh Waterford slipped out. The driver, tall and broad through the shoulders, stood by the front of the vehicle, dressed in a dark suit that undoubtedly hid a shoulder holster and gun on a very ripped body, his head on a swivel. The man with golden, wheat-colored hair had that special ops look about him…Delta, SEAL, Ranger, one of those outfits no doubt. The Oakley sunglasses may have pegged him as a SEAL. His eagle gaze shot to the woman striding toward them. He went to step forward when the police blocked her way.

She was wearing a weapon, he realized. That was a new one. When did lawyers start packing heat? She spoke to one officer, walked to the man in charge, then flashed her ID. The man reared back a bit, then took it, looking closely. When he returned it, she looked over the crowd and then made a beeline to him.

“Counselor,” Davis said by way of greeting. The woman was a barracuda, and she had been breathing down their necks ever since the task force deaths.

“Special Agent Nishida,” she said, walking past the rest of the police without sparing them a glance. Her long, dark hair was swept back with a clip, and she wore a simple gray jacket and skirt, those legs of hers in heels twisted with muscle, and every man there turned to watch her. “Looks like we have another Los Esmeraldas mess. What happened here?”

“I’d say the gang is clearing up loose ends,” he responded. “They murdered Senator Finch, and I have no doubt they would have slaughtered his family if they hadn’t been protected in a panic room.”

Her mouth tightened, those intense blue eyes narrowing. “Any information regarding what cartel we’re dealing with?”

“No. The family is quite shaken up, and after Finch’s death they may be too scared to talk or simply know nothing at all.”

“It’s hard to believe his sons were involved in the daily running of the wholesaler and they knew nothing about their father’s involvement with drug smuggling.”

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