Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

One for the Girls
One for the Girls
One for the Girls
Ebook493 pages6 hours

One for the Girls

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Special Agent Kyrie Shea is asked to leave her profiling job at Quantico to go to work for a very elite agency known as Dark Force One.
That should be a good thing, right?
Problems arise when the all male agency doesn't give her the warmest of welcomes, sending her sometimes fragile ego into overdrive. Minor mishaps are soon elevated to full-on disasters as Kyrie fights for respect from her fellow agents, tracks a serial rapist, and in the process manages to incite the wrath of various other psychos in town.
As if that's not enough to deal with, she has two very sexy males driving her to distraction; FBI agent, lover and best friend since childhood, Derrick Chamberlin, and her sexy new boss, Matthew Foxworth-who scares her more than the psychos out to get her.
With a quirky wit, unyielding determination, and a little blind luck she'll face it all head on in pure Kyrie Shea style.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 23, 2015
ISBN9781495158926
One for the Girls
Author

Carol Ann Brown

Carol Ann Brown is a real estate agent in Northern California. Carol sells new homes and is one of the top sales agents in her office. Carol attended the College of Alameda in Alameda, California. She also attended Anthony Real Estate School, where she received her real estate license. Carol’s hobby is writing, and she has written another manuscript called Destined, which is also a fiction story.

Read more from Carol Ann Brown

Related to One for the Girls

Related ebooks

Mystery For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for One for the Girls

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    One for the Girls - Carol Ann Brown

    One for the Girls

    ONE FOR THE GIRLS:

    A KYRIE SHEA NOVEL

    Carol Ann Brown

    Carol Ann Brown

    2015

    Copyright © 2015 by Carol Ann Brown

    All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

    This book is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.

    One for the Girls is the first book of the Kyrie Shea series.

    First Printing: 2015 by Carol Ann Brown

    Cover Art Copyright 2015 by Carol Ann Brown

    All rights reserved.

    ISBN 978-1-4951-5892-6

    www.carolannbrown.com

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    ONE FOR THE GIRLS:  A KYRIE SHEA NOVEL

    Copyright © 2015 by Carol Ann Brown

    TABLE OF CONTENTS1

    1

    2

    3

    4

    5

    6

    7

    8

    9

    10

    11

    12

    13

    14

    15

    16

    17

    18

    19

    20

    21

    22

    23

    24

    25

    26

    27

    28

    29

    30

    31

    32

    33

    34

    35

    36

    37

    38

    39

    40

    41

    42

    43

    44

    45

    46

    Coming Soon…

    1

    I AWOKE THIS MORNING with one of those feelings I should just stay in bed. But, as usual, I don’t pay much attention to that little voice of warning, even though I eventually regret it later. My name is Kyrie Shea. I’m a young twenty-something with a passion for living life to the fullest, chasing down bad guys, and lately, sex. My best friend since childhood, Derrick Chamberlin, has been helping me out with the passion for sex part. The chasing down bad guys, I’ll be getting back to real soon.

    Derrick and I have been together ever since we were in diapers, we care deeply for each other, but are at very different places in our lives. He asked me to marry in high school, it caused us to break up when I declined. I wasn’t ready then. I guess you could say, I’m not ready now. That’s why, even though we love each other and sometimes share a bed together, we have no formal commitment to each other. To outsiders we look like we’re a couple. We act like a couple, spending every moment we can together that we can steal away from work, school, or training. And, we both haven’t slept with anyone else except each other over the last six years. I guess in most ways, we are a couple.

    This morning Derrick helped me forget that little voice of impending disaster with a double shot of phenomenal sex. Derrick has a lot going for him as far as desirable male qualities go: well grounded, financially secure, loyal, and has a very playful sense of humor. He’s also a hottie with two body parts that can send a woman into complete and utter surrender: a wonderfully talented tongue, and the other… well, let’s just say it’s much much larger and farther south on his body.

    My body tingled and spasmed in all the usual places as Derrick slid his perfect, hot, naked body off mine. We showered together, then clad in matching robes made our way to my kitchen to share a bowl of cereal with fruit. Neither one of us are big breakfast eaters.

    So, today’s the big day, he smiled, his sexy green eyes washing over me.

    Yeah, I can’t believe it’s finally here. Everything I’ve worked so hard for is finally going to become reality, I smiled back. It’s gonna be awesome!

    Just days ago I accepted an offer to become a member of an elite team of federal agents known as Dark Force One; a group of highly-trained ex-military guys who deal with everything from serial killers, drug traffickers, arms dealers, to your basic kidnapping. They also constantly monitor all government agency personnel to insure loyalty to this country. Certain select agents also perform secret missions in foreign countries; missions sanctioned by high-ranking government officials. I can only imagine what they involve since they are highly secretive, and the details never discussed outside the core group involved.

    For ones in-the-know a job with Dark Force is the highest honor bestowed on an agent of the federal government.

    The Dark Force team has grown from the original six agents asked to create the team twenty years ago, to a hundred man squadron. When I say man, I mean man! No woman has ever been asked to join the squad. Until now. I’m excited to say the least to be the first woman, but I also realize I’m probably in for some intense scrutiny from the all male squadron; the testosterone will be overwhelming, and the male attitude one of disapproval and doubt that I should, could, or would ever be an asset to the team. I have no doubt I’ll win them over if given a real chance. After all, I’ve had the best training money can buy.

    I need to get ready, I don’t want to be late, I said, giving Derrick a closed mouth kiss at the corner of his. One touch of his magical tongue and we’d both be late.

    You’ve never been late in your life, he smiled, then winked at me.

    I trotted off to the bathroom, dried my hair, pulled it up in a French twist with a few dangling curls, then applied some make-up. I don’t usually wear much. Thanks to good genes I was blessed with almost flawless skin. Except for the occasional blemish around that time. Which, I only have four times a year thanks to the birth control I’m on. Awesome!

    I slid my 5’7", hundred thirty pound body into my lacy low riding boy-short panties with matching bra, then into a black, tailored feminine suit. I dug through some moving boxes and pulled out the shoes I wanted; a pair of three inch heeled, ankle-strap dress shoes. I wasn’t sure which box my jewelry case was in, so I opted to stick with the one carat diamond stud earrings, along with the diamond heart necklace Derrick gave me in high school, which I always wore. I sighed and made a secret wish to be able to get unpacked soon.

    Thank heaven my apartment is one of those all open floor plans, it’s layout a series of platforms; When you enter onto the foyer platform, you can either step down into the living room, or up onto the kitchen/dining area. Straight ahead at the back of the apartment is the bedroom; you either step up from the living room, or down from the dining area to access it. To the left of the bedroom is the only room with a door, the bathroom. The bathroom is fantastic with a huge garden tub in the center of the room, glass shower to the right, toilet and double sink vanity to the left.

    On the other side of the bedroom is a small alcove that I’ve made into a home office. Next to it, a huge walk-in-closet with wooden louvered doors. The layout and the huge floor to ceiling windows are what made me fall in love with it. It’s also a newer building, so no one has ever been in it before. And I got to choose my color scheme.

    I’ve only been in Hollow Cove, Maine for a week. I’d spent most of that time familiarizing myself with the area and enjoying time with Derrick. Derrick moved here a year earlier to start an FBI field office, knows the area well, and has his own apartment about ten minutes away.

    Before moving here I’d been living in Quantico, Virginia. I was finishing up my studies in Behavioral Science and Criminology with the FBI. Derrick and I grew up together in Auburn Heights, Montana. A beautiful little town not unlike Hollow Cove.

    I was standing in front of the mirror, taking one last look, when Derrick slid his arms around me from behind.

    Darlin’, you look amazin’.

    Here’s the thing about Derrick, Derrick is pure cowboy at heart. When he’s near me, it shows big time. I love his cowboy side. I also love his professional FBI guy side, which was what he was dressed for at the moment; a black, very sleek Armani suit that fit his 6’2" body perfectly. His dress shoes shined, his badge clipped to his belt, and I could feel his Beretta PX4 Storm 45 pistol holstered to his right side under his jacket.

    Not fair. You know what it does to me when you hold me close, all decked out, armed and dangerous, I smiled, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

    He grinned. "I do. I just wish we had time to let you show me."

    I blushed. Me, too. Since we don’t, we’d better get going before the temptation gets out of control.

    We rode the elevator down to the parking garage, kissed each other goodbye, got into our matching BMW 328i four door sedans, and drove off in opposite directions.

    I checked myself in the rearview mirror as I drove. I really wanted to look perfect and professional. After all, it’s not every day I get to meet the man who saved my life. It happened a few years back. Six to be exact. I had, because of my Nancy Drew nature, accidentally gotten myself mixed up in a massive conspiracy that almost cost me my life.

    I’ve always had a knack for figuring out the bad guy… except once. I guess we all get it wrong sometime. Of course, you could chalk that one up to the fact that I was only sixteen, and he was a twenty-four year old FBI agent who was exciting, charming, and drop dead gorgeous. He was also smart-I’m talking genius smart. He’d even graduated high school at fourteen. His name is-was, Jordy Fitzpatrick. Or as I eventually began to think of him, the Devil incarnate.

    Jordy had been one of my brother’s closest friends (before his father moved them off to New York five years earlier). The chemistry between us was amazing. As predators often do, he began his seduction by fulfilling every dream I had: he took me on my first skydive. He shared my love of horror movies, mountain climbing, martial arts, and solving crimes. He taught me real field work by taking me along on some of his investigations. And being a trusted friend of the family he was able, with my parents’ permission, to take me with him when he traveled out of the country. He took me to Switzerland, and Italy.

    He also introduced me to pleasures I’d never known… Oh, he didn’t have intercourse with me, he said he drew the line at statutory rape, but he took it as close to that line as you can get. He said he understood my desire to stay a virgin until marriage. That understanding was short lived once I found out what he was.

    Turns out, Jordy was a double agent. Not for a foreign country, no, he was a top ranking member of a syndicate operating here in the United States that wanted to control the entire drug, arms, and human trafficking markets. He was also one of the most successful FBI agents in FBI history. And the dirtiest! I didn’t understand his desire to do the bad things he did. You see, most people resort to doing bad things to gain wealth. He had wealth. He came from money and was very good with it. He’d even taken the half-million dollars his father had given him as a graduation present and turned it into a multi-billion dollar empire of hotels, nightclubs, even a movie studio. He told me his reasons were because he wanted to be the most powerful and feared man on the planet.

    He succeeded. For a while.

    His downfall came when Jordy’s original reasons for being sent to Montana became secondary to his growing obsession for me, which escalated into an attack on me that he was able to convince my family was perpetrated by some unknown assailant. Jordy finagled my parents into letting him take me to his estate in New York to feel safe and recover. He used threats against my friends and family to keep me compliant with his plan. I witnessed horrific acts of violence at his mercy. His reluctance to commit statutory rape had become a distant memory as well. I’d feared it would eventually happen, so I secretly gave up my virginity to Derrick a couple of weeks before the incident that got Jordy permission to take me off to New York. I’m thankful to this day for the insight that led me to some control over what was going to happen to me.

    Jordy was obsessed with the idea of me becoming like him. He’s partially responsible for why I can fight, shoot, and swing a sword with the best of them. As well as, spin an undercover operation 007 would be proud of. He flew me all over the world having me trained by experts in every field of hand-to-hand combat, firearms, fencing, you name it, he had an expert for it. Once I’d successfully completed his planned training we were to be wed, and we would rule his empire of crime together. Really romantic, huh?

    Anyway.

    After the initial feelings of helplessness and despair, I came up with the idea to pretend to go along. Whether I was naturally good at spinning a web of deception, or if it was that he was such a good example and teacher, it worked. I managed to find out all the syndicates dirty secrets, and thanks to Jordy’s controlling nature and his voyeuristic side, a lot of them were caught on tape. His use of the tapes were to blackmail half the world to do his bidding. My use would be to bring down him and every low-life sick bastard that ever worked with or for him. Luckily, this is where the original plot, and his plans, collided.

    The original plot was to bring an agent out of hiding that was responsible for getting several of the original top syndicate men kicked out of their jobs with the FBI. The agent had received such intense death threats that he faked his own death to protect his family’s lives some seventeen years before my part in the whole thing began. Their discovery of the faked death is what brought them to Montana, and into my family’s lives.

    This original agent learned of the plot to bring him out of hiding. He, along with his original team, got word to me that they would come for me, and set things right. It was perfect timing as far as having discovered enough evidence to bring down one of the most powerful crime rings in history. For me, not so much. I was getting a little low on hope, and the things I’d witnessed weighed heavily upon me. Nevertheless, we planned the biggest take-down in FBI history.

    We had the evidence, we just needed to get all the key players in as few locations as possible. We settled upon mine and Jordy’s wedding day, all the serious players would be there, it would be perfect. Well, maybe not perfect…

    In a take-down of this magnitude there’s always something bound to go wrong; Jordy didn’t find out about the plan, but he did find out there had been information leaked. He knew the leaked information had to have come from someone in his core group: myself, his best friend, Joey Thornwood; and four hitmen that were close friends of his. The leak was quickly narrowed to two: myself, and Joey. We were the only other people besides Jordy that were present at the time some of the incidents that were leaked were committed. The possible leak was even quicker narrowed to one. Joey.

    Jordy thought it was Joey because most of the leaked information had only been discussed in foreign languages. Jordy was unaware I spoke seven different languages, so he assumed it could only be Joey who knew enough to tell anyone. Jordy also never let me go anywhere without himself or Joey with me, he couldn’t see where I would’ve had the opportunity to betray him. His judgment was seriously clouded by his obsession for me.

    It was the day of the wedding, Jordy summoned us all into his den. He didn’t care that I was already in my wedding dress. Big mistake on his part, I guess Psycho never heard that it was bad luck to see the bride in her wedding gown before the wedding. Too bad for him!

    Joey, confronted about his suspected betrayal, vehemently denied it. Jordy and the four other goons worked him over. They’d broken a couple ribs, blacked an eye, bloodied his nose, and shot him in the thigh. I decided, even though Joey had participated in every evil thing that Jordy ever did, I couldn’t stand by and let them kill him for something I’d done. I confessed. I wasn’t believed at first. To convince them, I gave up the fact I spoke seven different languages, and the way I got the information out; I’d been using a secret painting technique, embedding information into paintings he was allowing me to sell through a local gallery as a hobby. The information could only be extracted after being coated with a certain chemical and placed under a black light. Once the proof was in front of him, he focused his attention on me, and seemingly wasn’t concerned with the massive take-down that was commencing outside. His goons, however, went to ready a way for an escape.

    Joey, Jordy, and I were left alone. Joey, coursing with anger that Jordy would think he would betray him (and maybe a sudden burst of humanity) came to my defense. He pulled his gun on Jordy and they ended up shooting each other. Joey was fatally wounded. Jordy only sustained a shoulder wound. After the initial shock of killing his best friend, Jordy pointed his gun at me. He told me I was never going to be free, he’d make sure of that. He would lock me away in one of his seven castles he owned around the world, and he would be the only person I would ever be allowed to see again.

    I wasn’t going with him, even if it meant he killed me right there, so we struggled. He aimed his gun at my head and told me if I didn’t go with him, he’d kill us both. I froze, more than a little shocked that he would rather die than be without me. He lowered the gun slightly, I suppose, thinking I was giving in. A single bullet came through the huge window over my right shoulder, striking Jordy in the center of the forehead. Before his body had even hit the floor, I was out of the room, and outside.

    Bullets hit the door frame of the huge wooden front doors, I looked over to see one of Jordy’s hitmen firing at me. A bullet took him down just as he was about to fire again. I bolted for the driveway. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man dressed in all black SWAT clothes from head to toe running toward me, his attention behind me, his rifle raised. He fired one shot just as I felt a pain slice through my shoulder, blood poured down the front of the white wedding dress. I stopped, turned toward the man in black. I was falling, his hands caught me. I still remember looking up at the most gorgeous blue eyes staring back at me. It was all I could see of my savior. He had on one of those ski mask things SWAT guys wear to protect their identity.

    It’s ok, kitten. You’re safe now, he said softly, picked me up in his powerful arms, and carried me toward an awaiting ambulance. My memories get a little fuzzy after that, I vaguely remember hugging him tightly as the darkness started flowing in due to blood loss, and exhaustion of the entire year in captivity flooding into my brain.

    My next memory-he was gone.

    I PULLED OVER TO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD, did a few deep breathing exercises to get my breathing back to normal. I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror, I had tears running down my face. It had been awhile since I’d thought about that day, and the year and a half leading up to it.

    The pain still ran very deep.

    2

    I PULLED UP TO THE GATES of Dark Force Headquarters, stopped beside the guard shack at the entrance. The place was huge. The building itself; multiple stories high, brick, with no windows. The back of the building, flanked by steep mountains. The entire place surrounded by twenty foot fences topped with razor wire.

    The guard took a long look at me, then made a call. Within minutes Harry Stone appeared at the entrance to the parking garage in front of me. Harry Stone is the top agent in charge of Dark Force One, and its founder. He’s a distinguished, imposing man at 6’ 5". In his fifties, yet more fit than most men half his age. Strong, caring, very good at controlling his emotions; he had after all, sacrificed his own happiness to save his family’s lives by faking his death, and gave up a wife and kids he loved dearly. The wife, is my mother. The kids: my brother, three sisters, and I.

    Harry Stone is my birth father.

    He was the agent the syndicate wanted to bring out of hiding.

    Harry came to the passenger side and slid in. Pull into the parking garage. He gave my shoulder a squeeze as I pulled forward. How’s my princess?

    A little nervous.

    My eyes washed over him. It had been almost three months since I’d seen him, due to my wrapping up my cases at Quantico, and him and his team being away on a secret overseas mission to (CLASSIFIED). His short, salt and pepper hair was combed perfectly. Black SWAT attire, immaculate.

    You look good.

    You, too, he smiled. Princess, I should warn you, Fox can be a little intimidating because he’s so focused. But he’s a great guy, and the best trainer by far. You’ll learn a lot from him.

    Fox. That’s my savior’s nickname. His real name is Matthew Foxworth. He’s second in command at Dark Force, an ex-Special Forces sniper. And he’s the best, most loyal agent Harry has ever known. He’s got the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen. That’s the extent of what I know about him. My father does not disclose personal information about his agents. Not even to his daughter.

    I pulled into a parking spot.

    Are you ready? Harry asked with a smile.

    I swallowed my nervousness. Absolutely.

    He squeezed my shoulder again. This would most likely be the extent of our affection for each other at headquarters, aka HQ. The entire place is wired, every area monitored with cameras. We wanted to keep our relationship as private as possible, and limited to the few people who already knew who I was: Only his original team, and one other. My new boss.

    We rode the elevator to the fifth floor offices, made our way through a seating area with a huge, well over six feet tall guy staring me down inquisitively from behind the reception desk.

    Morning, Ricco, Harry said to him.

    Morning, sir.

    We entered a corner office. The desk chair was turned away from the desk.

    You make sure my agents have what they need or I’ll fuck up your world so bad you’ll never get it straightened out, a man’s voice came from the other side of the chair.

    I looked around the office, trying to get a sense of my new boss. The office was very Zen. Minimal décor, done in shades of tan and brown. No personal belongings, mementos, or family pictures.

    Do we understand each other? the voice said sternly. Good.

    The chair turned.

    "Harry," the man said, hanging up the phone.

    I knew the instant I saw his eyes he was the one.

    Fox, here’s your new agent, Harry said, proud smile stretching across his face.

    Fox stood, came around the desk, and stopped in front of me. I extended my hand, which instantly began to tremble as his slid onto it. He was as tall as I remembered: six-four. He had wavy black hair that reminded me of Johnny Depp’s. I’d imagined him with dark hair, figured it would be cut military style. I like this better. I sighed as my eyes met his. Those crystal blue eyes, yum. I would never forget them as long as I live.

    Matthew Foxworth, this is Kyrie Shea.

    I-I’m really glad we finally get to meet, I said, eyeing the rest of him. He was dressed in black SWAT clothes that accented every toned muscle on his tan and seemingly perfect body.

    Me, too, he replied, making no attempt to hide his eyes washing over every inch of my body. I blushed.

    Matthew Foxworth, my blue-eyed savior. He’s gorgeous! Even more so than I fantasized him to be over these last six years; I never got to officially meet him, him being whisked off on another secret mission as soon as the scene in New York was secure. My father often talked about how good he is. There were missions Matthew completed that no other agent could have. No details of course, but apparently he’s so good, that even though he’s only a few years older than me (six to be exact), he’s second in command under my father.

    Matthew and my father share the duties of hiring, training, and assigning agents. They’re also responsible for choosing and training agents for those secret foreign missions. Not all Dark Force agents are, or will be, cleared for them.

    I’m placing her in your capable hands, Harry said, clapping Fox’s shoulder. He glanced out the office door, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, then he was off to his eighth floor office.

    I guess this is pretty scary for you, Fox said, staring down at my trembling hand I realized was still in his.

    A little. But this is a dream come true, to be given the opportunity to work here, I slowly pulled my hand out of his.

    He just stared at me for several seconds. That made me more nervous.

    Ok, he finally said. First things, first. Have a seat.

    I sat down in a chair in front of his desk. He moved behind it, sat down, removed something from a drawer and handed it to me.

    I wish there were some kind of ceremony that comes along with it, but, since technically we do not exist, they don’t have formalities like that for us.

    I stared at the badge. That’s alright. It’s enough for me to have earned the right to carry it. I ran my finger across it, trying to keep from shedding a proud tear.

    That’s the right attitude, he said, typed something into his computer. I’ll need a seven-digit code, and seven-digit password… He slid a master key across the desk to me. This key will also work in case the key pads are down for some reason.

    I gave him the codes I wanted, looked down at the badge again, smiling widely for several seconds. When I looked up, he was watching me.

    Pretty awesome feeling, hunh? he said, still not taking his eyes off me.

    I feel like I’ve been working toward this my whole life. It’s more than awesome.

    Good. That means you’re doing something that’s important to you.

    More than you know, I thought to myself.

    I don’t know how much Harry has already told you, but you’ll be on team Alpha. That’s my team. There’s six other agents on the team, I’ll introduce you to them later. The code you gave me will now get you into any part of the building your clearance, and status for being on my team, allows. My team is second only to your fathers.

    He took out a diagram, moved to the chair next to me, and spread it in front of us. I couldn’t help notice that he smelled incredibly masculine, and sexy.

    Ok Kyr’, concentrate!

    He went over the building layout; The basement contained a firing range, and guns and ammo storage; ground level, the parking garage; first floor, lobby, locker rooms, and gym; second floor is Communications and Equipment, as well as gear storage; third floor houses Computer Research and Surveillance; fourth floor holds conference rooms, a kitchen, and cafeteria; fifth floor contains the different team’s offices; the sixth floor, a Forensics lab; seventh floor, sleeping quarters for agents who do not live close; the eighth floor, top level offices for Harry and his team, interrogation rooms, and holding cells.

    You will not be able to access the eighth floor. Only Harry’s team and team leaders have access to that floor.

    I was confused.

    Did you have a question? He asked.

    How will I interrogate anyone if I don’t have access to the interrogation rooms?

    You won’t, he replied, stood. Follow me, I’ll show you to your office.

    Wait. I don’t understand. Why can’t I interrogate… I stood abruptly, accidentally bumping against him. Static electricity popped, startling us.

    Fox blinked away some emotion before stepping back. Only top level agents interrogate. Follow me.

    I narrowed my eyes at his back, surely this is just a joke. Of course, a little joke on the new agent. Ok, I’ll play along. For now.

    I followed him out of his office to the next one past his. My name was already etched into a gold plaque on the door, I smiled. We entered. It was nice. Much nicer than I expected, my being new and all.

    Not one of the biggest offices, but it’s one of the nicer ones. And it’s the only one available, he glanced at me.

    It was an almost exact duplicate of his office. All the cabinetry and the desk were done in carved mahogany woods, the walls painted a rich tan. A plush, chocolate-colored sofa sat off to the right. My office was missing the door Fox’s office had just past his sofa.

    Two very comfortable looking chairs, done in the same fabric and colors as the sofa, sat in front of the desk straight ahead of us. A beautiful leather chair behind it. Ferns hung from the ceiling in each corner, flanking the bookcase credenza that sat behind the desk.

    Along the left wall were a row of five-drawer mahogany file cabinets topped with a huge basket containing an ivy plant. On this side of them, a small, four foot wide entertainment center under a wall-mounted, thirty-two inch flat screen TV. The entertainment center held a high-tech VCR and DVD player. Behind me, on either side of the door in front of the frosted glass that flanked each side of it, sat two beautiful green plants that stood as tall as me. I hoped all the plants were fake. If not, I pictured short life spans for them under my care.

    You can add or change anything you want to make it your own.

    I went over to my desk, picked up my name plate etched Special Agent Kyrie Shea, and smiled.

    If you need any office supplies, lunch delivered… anything really, see the guy at the control desk. The daytime guy’s name is Ricco. He’ll make sure you get whatever you ask for.

    I nodded.

    I prefer my team eat lunch together most days. It promotes bonding.

    Ok, I smiled at him, went around and sat down at my desk. This warranted another smile. I figure I’ll probably develop lock-jaw before the day is over, from smiling so much.

    Fox came over, leaned down next to me, and typed something into my computer.

    Mmmm, I moaned involuntarily as his sexy masculine scent wafted my way.

    He cut his eyes to me.

    "It’s the chair. Comfy."

    He returned his attention to my computer, typed in a code, and the computer lit up. Set your own code, don’t tell it to anyone. Not even your partner.

    I set my code and sank back in my chair.

    Fox leaned his sexy ass against the edge of my desk. You’ll be working agent investigations, serial killer profiles, and because of the connections and expertise you picked up in New York, you’ll also be very closely involved in human trafficking cases, and crimes against women. Those things will tie up a lot of your time. When those cases are completed you can get field time with your partner, and learn to take on other types of cases. You can investigate and question victims, but any meetings with suspects has to be authorized through me first. No exceptions. I need to know every move you intend on making.

    Is that because I’m new? I asked, sliding my purse into the bottom right drawer of the desk. I took my key ring out, attached the master key to it, then I dropped the keys into the skinny middle desk drawer.

    No. He picked up a notebook from the credenza and handed it to me. Here’s a DFO handbook containing rules and regulations for working here. It should answer any questions you have. If not, just come to me.

    The notebook was massive. Four inches thick. I raised an eyebrow.

    You don’t have to read it all in one day.

    I placed it on my desk.

    Fox spent the next half hour showing me the procedure for doing agent searches.

    After you compile the searches from the checklist you sign-off on it and put the file on my desk. I go over it, sign-off on it, then I send it upstairs to the eighth floor to be sent to whichever agency requested it.

    Seems easy enough, I smiled at him.

    If you need help when you get your first set of files just come get me, I’ll show you again.

    Ok.

    Let’s go get you outfitted, he said, stepping back from me. We all dress in black SWAT attire.

    Harry says the black uniforms are for the intimidation factor. It’s also to promote a team mentality, and helps the teams blend better into the night. When a lot of the major take-downs happen. I think it has something to do with staying in a military state of mind. Which, is how the squad is run. I guess it’s comforting to the guys working here, every one of them have military backgrounds.

    How would my not having one affect things? I wondered.

    3

    WE RODE THE ELEVATOR down to the first floor, stopped at the admission desk to the gym and locker rooms. I was handed a pair or multi-pocketed cargo pants, a T-shirt, a pair of 100% waterproof, blood borne pathogen resistant, reinforced toe with tactical grip rubber sole boots with side zipper, and a baseball cap. All black.

    I was also issued a locker.

    Fox punched his code into the keypad to get us into the main gym. You can work out before work, after work, or if things are slow, during. It’s a requirement to stay fit. You’ll be given periodic fitness testing.

    There were guys working out. At least, until they noticed us crossing the gym toward the locker rooms. A guy slipped and fell off a treadmill doing a double-take toward us. Two guys ran into each other on the indoor track. Several barbells crashed loudly to the floor. A foreboding feeling came over me.

    Fox entered the locker room. Woman on deck!

    A couple of guys were buckling up as we walked through. They moved slowly past us, checking out the new guy-me. I grinned.

    There’s only one locker room. We can work out a way for you to have time alone.

    Don’t change anything on my account, I can manage.

    He gave me a questioning look.

    We had co-ed locker rooms at Quantico. I’ve learned how to control my modesty.

    Nevertheless, I’ll stand out here and watch the door while you change.

    What a gentleman!

    I changed, slipped my hat into my pant leg pocket, then walked to where Fox was standing. He was looking out over the gym, arms crossed over his muscular chest. His eyes washed over me. I guess I looked ok in uniform, he didn’t tell me to fix anything. I thought I looked badass

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1