Page 5 of Brazilian Surrender
“I’m almost in there, boss,” Tony said at the other end of the line. “It’s taking me longer than I anticipated, but I should have the files sent to your email by the end of the day.”
“Thanks,” Jaeger said, and hung up the phone, jamming it in his pocket. Tony was his go-to hacker, and he would deliver as promised. Jaeger spent the day briefing his team, running background checks, and cutting loose ends to other assignments. Unfortunately, Omar and Brenda couldn’t make it until the next day to watch Camila, so Jaeger decided to check on her himself until one of them finished their current assignment.
He’d already run the background check of Camila’s friends Lee and Zoe, and they seemed clean. Zoe had gotten a DWI a few years back, but that was it. Brian, Zoe’s on-and-off boyfriend, had no encounters with the law.
Jaeger crossed the street and nodded at the doorman as he entered her building. Her place had been small, but very hip. She paid a pretty penny for rent. Could anyone benefit financially if she left the States? Jaeger got into the elevator and pressed her floor number.
Camila.
Earlier that day, she’d given him enough bad-date scenarios for skits in a television comedy show. Why would it be hard for someone like her to find a suitable man? She was possibly one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen, no doubt with the hottest accent. Besides, she didn’t resemble some of those Madison Avenue stuck-up women he worked for in the past. Wealth hadn’t changed her.
He caught himself smiling. Camila would make any man happy. She was uncomplicated, carefree, and kind. A regular guy, of course. Not him. The elevator came to a stop, and Jaeger blinked. His head needed to stay in the game, and not on Camila’s endearing qualities.
He knocked on her door a couple of times without luck. A few seconds later, he heard a muffled wail and his blood cooled instantly. Grabbing his automatic handgun from his holster, he kicked the door open and marched into her place. “Camila?”
Carefully, he unlocked the safety and lifted his hand, walking from the foyer to the living area while he scanned the place. He noted some bills on the glass console table, but nothing else had moved since the morning. The crying became louder, and he found Camila on the ground, kneeling over a black furry…animal.
“Torto is dead. I came home from work and found him like this,” she sobbed. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes red and swollen.
An instinct to take her in his arms and hold her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear as he stroked her hair stabbed at him. What the fuck? He wasn’t an actor in some foolish romantic movie. Still, a tingle sizzled the tip of his fingers and shot up his hand and arm. Consoling her wouldn’t make any of that go away. He barely knew this woman, and for Christ sake, she was a client.
“Let me clear the place,” he said and, just in case, did a sweep in the rooms for the next few minutes to make sure the intruder wasn’t around. When he returned, she was still crying.
He glanced at the animal, and his stomach clenched. Poor animal. This was not good. Whoever wanted to hurt her was sending a powerful message. They’d upgraded from written threats to real danger. Bending down, he studied the stiff dog and checked the color of the pupils. No damage had been done to the body, which meant someone poisoned it.
She stroked the dog’s paw, sniffing only to cry louder again. Shit. He hated when women cried in front of him. He’d rather street fight or tattoo his balls than deal with emotional women, because they expressed their feelings in a way he never could. In a way that would break him into pieces if he even tried. “Who could do such thing?”
She looked him in the eye, and for some strange reason he felt like stroking her blotched face and wiping the tears rolling down her red cheeks. He sucked in a breath. Despite the harassment she’d suffered in the past, Camila was pretty much an untainted individual. She didn’t deserve the shit she was getting.
“My brother Bruno gave him to me after he found Torto on the street. I brought him here from Brazil because I couldn’t stay away from him.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, uttering the words he got used to hearing after Ellen and Trevor’s death. How many times did people from his department at NYPD scratch their heads when he grew quiet, or whispered one to another, unsure of what to say, during the days following the tragedy? They’d all found it odd when he insisted on going to work after the funeral, defying his boss’s order to take leave.
She wiped the tears with the back of her hands.
“We need to get you out of here, Camila.”
“What? Why do I have to leave my apartment? Can’t I just change the locks?”
“We’ll do that, but for your safety I don’t want you alone tonight,” he said. He could set her up at a hotel and watch her door all night. Jaeger clamped his lips. Camila was devastated, and taking her to a strange place where she would be alone after losing her pet wouldn’t make it any better. He thought of his aunt Gesa, but he’d hate to drag her into this, though she’d put him in this situation.
“What do you mean?”
Send her to a hotel. Send her to a hotel. “I’m going to have one of my team members come over. She’ll take Torto to a vet clinic I trust where they’ll conduct a necropsy. We need confirmation of what type of poison or drug was used to kill him,” he said, and tears brimmed her eyes again. Crap. No, she couldn’t be by herself. He needed to have her secure somewhere, and wasn’t Tony supposed to send out the files anyway? Wouldn’t he need her help to go through them? Bringing her to his place would be nothing more than a practicality. And he liked practicalities. “Then if you want to cremate or bury him, we can have her make arrangements and do what you think best.”
“O-okay. I don’t know if I’ll be able to let go of him,” she said, her hand clenching the lifeless paw.
Jaeger covered her hand with his. “It’s okay.” He placed his hand on hers to let her know he’d be there for her. “I’m taking you to my place. Whoever did this is upping his game. Besides, we need to go through those video recordings later and that may take your mind off things. We’ll find who did this.”
She frowned. “Your place?”
“Your safety is my priority. Tomorrow I’ll change your locks, but for now I want to keep an eye on you. Make sure you let Zoe know. You don’t have to worry about anything. We’ll sleep in separate rooms. I guarantee you’ll have your privacy.” Besides, the internet in his apartment was secure. He couldn’t say the same thing for a hotel where he’d share the wifi with hundreds of people.
“I’m only going after someone from your team comes. I’m not leaving Torto all by himself,” she said, glancing at the dog.
“Of course,” he said, and a part of him admired her. Someone had entered her place and killed her dog—possibly the same person who had sent her threatening letters for an unknown reason. Yet, she refused to leave her dog behind and put a farewell to a dead animal before her own needs and safety.
Sighing, he texted his secretary, Therese, and asked her to come over ASAP. “You should put some clothes in a backpack. She’ll be here soon,” he said after he slid his phone in his pocket.
“Okay. I’ll get my stuff when she gets here. I’m quick. Until then, I’m with him.” She stroked the dog’s ears, and he noticed her fingers trembled. Despite her determination in staying with her pet until help came, Camila was shaken. Scared. Sad.
Jaeger’s neck vein pulsed. That’s why the two of them couldn’t be more different—she wanted to process the death of a loved one instead of running from grief. Hell, he’d managed to ignore the pain but still feel it for the last five years. He sucked in his breath and refused to keep looking at her. The quicker he cracked this case and said sayonara to Camila Duarte, the better.
