The Bad Ass Brigade (3 page)

Read The Bad Ass Brigade Online

Authors: Taylor Lee

Tags: #Idesire Publications

“It might be better for you to see my work before you offer to recommend me, Commander. Thank you all the same, but my record stands for itself.”

She turned back to her note-taking, not waiting for a reply.

Properly chastised, Sam ignored Garret Baker’s grating chuckle, deciding he would seek retribution later. For the moment he contented himself watching the balletic movements of the athletic woman searching for clues in the ravaged remains left by a violent flaming destroyer.

Annika sipped on a bottle of water then blew a puff of air over her pouty lips. Sam forced himself to ignore the dampness on her upper lip. Christ, when did sweat become an aphrodisiac for him? Since he’d met the icy blond princess, just the hint of moisture made him fantasize about all the places on her luscious body he’d like to taste. Giving himself leeway, he decided that it wasn’t only the sight of her that had him as off kilter as a teen-aged boy. It was also her smell. The slight breeze brought whiffs of her spicy fragrance wafting through the trees. The soft lemony odor coupled with a minty overlay sealed the deal. With a profound sense of relief, Sam tossed aside his self-imposed prohibition against sex in Chicadia Falls. Freed from the constraint, he began the deeply satisfying process of visualizing where and how he would first make love to Lt. Annika Nilsson, Bomb and Arson Investigator extraordinaire.

~~~

Brennan Corcoran met the three of them in the ornate lobby of the State Street Savings and Loan. The large, burly Irishman came straight out of central casting. From his flaming red hair brushed with gray at the temples to his effusive greeting tinged with a slight brogue, Corcoran’s Irish was in full force. He welcomed Sam, Garrett and Annika into his spacious office and pointed to the conference table urging them to be seated. Sam noted that the large man was almost as tall as he was but probably outweighed him by fifty pounds—of fat not muscle. Corcoran barely acknowledged either Sam or Garrett, making it clear his eyes were on Annika.

“My dear, please sit in the chair across from me so that I can feast on you. I never thought these words would come out of my mouth, but you Lt. Nilsson may be the loveliest woman I have ever seen. Your Nordic beauty is simply stunning. Tell me, my dear, where is your family from? Stockholm? Malmo? Gothenburg? I love your home country but I confess until this moment I never thought even the glorious Swedish women could compete with our bonny Irish lasses. You, my dear, have disabused me of that belief.”

Annika flushed slightly at the effusive praise but recovered quickly.

“Thank you, Mr. Corcoran. You are kind. I will also make a confession. All my life I’ve wished for red hair or coal black hair — anything but the pale blond I was blessed with. As for my family, I grew up in foster homes, none of which had information about my birth family. And while I’m confident that my “home country” is beautiful, I’ve never travelled outside of this country, so I wouldn’t know.”

In the uneasy silence that followed, Sam struggled with the urge to rush in and protect Annika from this intrusive scrutiny. He wanted to tell the overbearing Irishman to back off. But Annika’s quiet dignity stopped him from jumping in. Even Sgt. Baker had enough sense to hold his tongue.

Not so, Brennan Corcoran.

“Well, lass, you really aren’t missing much. Travelling isn’t all it is cracked up to be. In fact it can be a royal pain in the ass. I’m always glad to hit the shores of the good old U.S.A. Can finally get a good steak.”

Sam sat back in his chair debating whether he should call out the officious boor who managed to say in one sentence that Annika’s ‘foster home’ childhood and inability to travel weren’t big losses. Annika spared him the need to break in.

Not bothering to respond to their host’s insensitive remark, the young woman who Sam was coming to admire more and more easily turned the discussion to the fires at Lakeside Estates. Opening her leather folder and placing it on the table in front of her, she pinned Corcoran with a firm gaze.

“I regret that two of your lovely homes were destroyed, Mr. Corcoran. I have several questions for you. If you have no objection, I would like to record our conversation.”

Corcoran reared back in his chair with a pained expression.

“No, no, by all means, record or take notes, whatever works best for you. But
please
, my dear, call me Brennan. I expect that you and I will have several conversations, and it is my hope that we can make this difficult time more pleasant for both of us.”

“Of course, Mr. Corcoran, but I would remind you that this is an official investigation and it is my job to determine if a crime was committed.”

For the first time Corcoran lost some of his bonhomie. His expression tightened and Sam glimpsed the hard-driving business man who not only was the president of the largest Savings and Loan in the upper Midwest but also the founding partner of the development company that was building what would be the most expensive homes in Minnesota outside of the Twin Cities. From conversations with Nate and Chief Roberts, Sam knew that Brennan Corcoran for all his Irish good-ole-boy mannerisms was one tough S.O.B. and not to be underestimated.

“But of course, my dear. No one knows better than I do the seriousness of the issue.” The crease between Corcoran’s brows deepened. “As it stands I am facing millions of dollars of losses, as well as a long legal fight with my insurance company. Your findings will have a significant impact on my financial future and the enterprise I am building.” He softened his gaze and added, “But my dear, that doesn’t mean that you and I can’t be friends.”

Sam had had enough. Smiling at the overbearing man, he broke in.

“Lt. Nilsson pointed out to me a fact I was unaware of, Mr. Corcoran. Apparently Lakeside is your first development project, correct? I’m curious, how did you choose the location? You’ll have to admit, it was a controversial choice. The environmental groups aren’t happy that it butts up against protected reserves, and it’s my understanding that the Tribes are protesting the development because it borders on spiritual lands.” Taking note of the flush making its way up Corcoran’s neck, Sam persisted with a pleasant smile. “I heard that even Chief Roberts is unhappy with the location you chose. Seems you are perilously close to the Chief’s private bird sanctuary.”

Corcoran sucked in an audible breath, then rotated in his chair to face Sam head-on. Glaring at him through narrowed eyes, Corcoran didn’t bother to hide his contempt. His voice rose as he took issue with Sam’s analysis.

“When one dares to do big things, young man, one comes to expect that lesser men will find reasons to complain. It’s the price of being a visionary. I am building my dream—showplace homes worthy of the people I plan to attract to this community. And no one is going to stop me. Not a group of ragtag environmental nuts or a bunch of
native
people who seem to think that because their illiterate ancestors lived here hundreds of years ago that somehow the land belongs to them.”

As if he realized that he’d shown more passion than he intended, Corcoran made an effort to tone down his anger, but couldn’t keep from adding one last salvo.

“And, as for John Roberts’s fucking bird sanctuary, since when did birds take precedence over human beings? I’ll have you know when my project is complete, we will have tripled the tax base in this community and if we lose a few chickadees in the process, who the hell cares?”

Sam allowed his smile to widen.

“An admirable goal, Mr. Brennan. I can see you are passionate about your project as you should be. But I must take issue with your inclusion of Chief Roberts in your description of ‘lesser men’.” Turning to Annika, Sam noted, “You haven’t met our Chief yet, Lt. Nilsson, but my guess is when you do you will find Mr. Brennan’s assertion comical.”

Corcoran made a visible effort to control what was surely an explosive temper. He clamped his lips together in a firm line then twisted them into the makings of a smile. Turning to Annika, his tone was ingratiating.

“I trust, my dear, that when you do meet the good Chief that you will refrain from repeating my ‘comical’ comment. Knowing John as I do, he will ensure that Baker here sees that I get at least a parking ticket a week and more than likely a speeding ticket as well.”

At a sound from the anteroom, Corcoran glanced up at the slender young woman in the doorway—who Sam noted had magically appeared at an opportune time.

“Yes, Monica?”

The lovely woman smiled a gracious smile, then frowned as though hating to intrude. “I apologize, Mr. Corcoran. I know you asked not to be interrupted, but I have Governor Stephens on the telephone. He’s only available for the next few minutes.”

As they made preparations to leave, Corcoran leaned over close to Annika. “If it is not too much trouble, my dear, can we continue our conversation in the morning? I have many concerns I wish to share with you. I think they will be useful in your investigation.”

Annika gathered up her notepad then glanced at her iPhone.

“Will 10 a.m. work for you, Mr. Corcoran?”

“Yes, of course, my dear, whatever is convenient for you. But let’s meet here in my office where we won’t be interrupted.”

When Annika shrugged in agreement, Corcoran added in a low tone with an ingratiating smile, “Perhaps, then I can convince you to call me Brennan and I would be honored to call you by your given name—which I believe is Annika. A lovely name. So like you.”

Annika didn’t hide her slight frown, but nodded pleasantly.

“I prefer Lt. Nilsson, Mr. Corcoran. I’ve worked hard to earn that title.”

Corcoran eyed her for a long moment, then nodded in agreement.

“I can see that you have, my dear. You’ve clearly worked very hard.”

Giving her a slight bow, he said, “Tomorrow then at 10 a.m.”

Turning to Sam, his expression hardened.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Commander Carter. I’ve heard a lot about you. Perhaps we can have lunch together at the Country Club. I have a private dining room. I’m confident we have many associations in common.”

He nodded to Sgt. Baker without speaking then strode from the room.

Chapter 3

“Now, what the hell do you think he meant by that?”

Sam raised a brow and gave a slight shrug.

“If I were to guess,
my dear
, I would say, that he wasn’t happy that you prefer to be called by your professional title.”

Annika almost smiled then grimaced.

“You mean, he preferred to diminish me by treating me like a ditsy blond rather than a professional law enforcement officer?”

Sam shrugged again.

“That would be my read. Particularly since you happen to be the ‘law enforcement officer’ who potentially will have the most to say about his financial future.”

A frown marred Annika’s smooth brow.

“Are you saying he was threatening me?”

“Hmm. Did you feel threatened?”

“I… I did… I mean, no. I didn’t feel threatened, but even if I did, I’m perfectly capable of handling men like Brennan Corcoran.”

Sam raised an eyebrow then nodded.

“I’m sure you are.”

They were almost to the car when Annika whirled on him.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Sam laughed. “Before I incriminate myself, could you be a bit more specific?”

“You taunted him on purpose.”

“Hmm, now why might I do that?”

Anger flashed in Annika’s eyes.

“Is this a quiz, Commander? A little test to grade my interrogation skills?”

Sam didn’t hide his surprise or his frown.

“Now you really do need be more specific, because I don’t know what the hell you are talking about.”

Annika put her hands on her hips, notched up her chin and glared at him.

“Oh yes you do. You taunted him. Goaded him into showing his anger. To knock him off that smarmy Irish perch and make him show his true colors.”

“Hmm, and if indeed that is what I did—and you are correct, I did do that on purpose, why is that a problem? Digging below a witness’ protective mannerisms often reveals interesting facts.”

“And are you implying that I don’t know that? That you were only one who could properly interrogate my witness?”

“No, Lieutenant, you were doing a fine job. But at the sixth ‘
my dear’
I thought it was time to step in.”

Annika’s lip trembled. Her voice was low, shaking with anger.

“In other words you didn’t think that I could handle the situation, tell the asshole to put his dick back in his pants?”

Sam smiled. “Well at least we both read the situation the same way.”

Annika didn’t smile back.

“To
repeat
, you thought I couldn’t handle that odious man?”

Sam held her gaze for a moment then said quietly, “It’s immaterial whether you could or could not handle him. The fact is that you weren’t. And yes, that is why I ‘stepped in’ when I did.”

Seeing the color rising on her pale cheeks, Sam held up his hand to halt the coming tirade.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant. While you are unquestionably the lead investigator on this case—or you will be soon—you are not the only member of the team. I’m not merely your chauffeur, Lt. Nilsson. I’m also a police officer and—”

Annika interrupted. Her tone was scathing. “And you are my superior. Is that what you are saying,
Commander
? That you are
pulling rank on me?

Sam took a deep audible breath and blew it out. He pinned her with a hard stare through narrowed eyes.

“Yes, Lieutenant, that is precisely what I am saying.”

~~~

The silence in the car was deafening. After a few frozen moments, Sam decided to break it. Meeting Garrett Baker’s gaze in the rearview mirror, he said, “I’m curious about your role, Sergeant.”

Baker started. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, for one, I understood that you’ve been investigating this likely crime from the beginning. Surely you’ve met with Corcoran on several occasions, correct?”

“Yeah, so what?”

Sam raised an eyebrow at the Sergeant’s belligerent tone.

Other books

Rapture Practice by Aaron Hartzler
New Jersey Noir by Joyce Carol Oates
Operation Tenley by Jennifer Gooch Hummer
Boundary 1: Boundary by Eric Flint, Ryk Spoor
Playing With Matches by Suri Rosen
CarnalHealing by Virginia Reede
Joe's Black T-Shirt by Joe Schwartz
Loving Emily by Anne Pfeffer
Hardwired by Walter Jon Williams