Page 11

Chapter 10

Seanna

The bullpen feels like a cage today, constructed from stale coffee, unanswered questions, and the aggravating tick of a clock marking every wasted second. Being stuck at our desks, hands tied, waiting for Cruz to play nice is its own special brand of fucking torture. Patience has never been my strong suit, and right now it’s practically non-existent.

The PD narcotics team drew the short straw–well the only straw there was really since I gave the order–now tasked with babysitting Cruz and making sure Rivas keeps his mouth shut. Better them than us. The last thing I need is hours trapped in a surveillance van with nothing but stale donuts and cheap coffee.

Unfortunately, the other two names Diego coughed up—Mendoza and Navarro—aren't exactly offering us gold either. Jensen scowls at his screen, clicking through endless surveillance notes before finally shaking his head with frustration.

"Still nothing firm on Mendoza," he mutters, rubbing his temples. "His people are too spread out, and every lead circles back on itself."

I sigh heavily, glancing toward Matteo. "Anything better on Navarro?"

Matteo meets my eyes evenly, lips pressed thin. "Same story. He’s cautious. Low-level enough that he's off most radars, but high enough that taking him down would make a decent fallback if Cruz goes sideways. But nothing we can actually act on right now."

I lean back, fingers drumming impatiently against the edge of my desk. "Great. So we sit here spinning our fucking wheels."

Just then, a sharp voice cuts through the space. "Agent Darling, my office."

I glance over to find Assistant Special Agent in Charge Everett Ford standing in his doorway, his severe expression focused entirely on me. He jerks his head sharply, indicating I need to follow him immediately, before disappearing back inside.

Behind me, Eli quietly sings a dramatic little "dun-dun-dah," grinning into his coffee mug.

Jensen murmurs a sympathetic yet amused "good luck," his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Shut it," I mutter back, pushing out of my chair and feeling every set of eyes in the bullpen follow my steps across the room. Ignoring them, I stride forward with purpose, forcing a composed mask onto my face even though my gut tightens with uncertainty at what Ford might have waiting for me.

I step into his office, closing the door quietly behind me. His space is a study in meticulous order—files stacked in perfect alignment, not a single stray paper or pen out of place. Ford himself mirrors the strict orderliness of his surroundings, seated rigidly behind his massive oak desk, fingers steepled beneath his chin, piercing gray eyes locked onto me with laser precision.

"Take a seat," he says curtly, motioning to the chair opposite him with the barest flicker of his hand.

I settle into the stiff-backed chair, holding his gaze steadily as I wait for him to speak. Ford studies me silently for a moment that stretches just a little too long, a deliberate test meant to unsettle me. I keep my expression neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

Finally, he breaks the silence, voice clipped and professional. "Give me an update on Reyes. What do you have?"

Taking a careful breath, I deliver a swift, clear rundown of the current state of the investigation—detailing our progress on Cruz, our limited intel on Mendoza and Navarro, the setup with Rivas, and our next planned moves. Throughout, Ford remains perfectly still, his gaze never wavering, absorbing every detail like a seasoned prosecutor waiting to cross-examine a witness.

When I finish, he sits back slowly, assessing me with cool calculation. Silence hangs thickly in the air before he finally nods once, decisively.

"I put a lot of trust in you with this, Seanna," he says, voice low but razor-sharp. "There are a lot of eyes watching this case—important eyes. Don’t make me regret giving you your own team this early in your career."

I hold his stare evenly, letting the weight of his words settle between us without flinching. "Understood, sir. I won’t."

His expression softens just a fraction—barely enough to register, but enough to feel like a subtle acknowledgment of approval. "Good. Now get back out there and make sure we get results."

I rise from my chair smoothly, offering a single nod before exiting his office. As I step back into the bullpen, I feel the charged anticipation in the air, the guys all watching and waiting at their desks.

I'm barely sitting when my phone vibrates insistently in my pocket. I pull it out to see Hydessa’s name flashing across the screen, and a brief stab of worry tightens my chest until I realize it’s been two days since our last check-in. Damn, how quickly worry has become my default setting with her off chasing shadows on that fucking island.

Stepping away from the bullpen, I quickly move toward a quiet corner near the windows, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Eli isn’t listening in—nosy bastard. Finding enough privacy, I answer the call, my heart rate already slowing at the sound of her breathing on the other end.

“If I hide…” comes Hydessa’s soft whisper, our familiar greeting instantly calming my nerves.

“Then I’ll seek…” I reply automatically, relief loosening the tension in my shoulders. Her voice always grounds me, even when we’re both stuck knee-deep in bullshit. "You know I worry about you, especially with you on this mysterious island. How’s the investigation going?"

I hear her pause and know she’s gathering her thoughts. It's so typical of her—careful, thoughtful, everything I struggle to be. I fight the urge to shake answers from the phone.

"It’s progressing, slowly. I’ve met some interesting people, but there are lots of pieces to this puzzle," Hydessa admits. Her hesitation makes me grit my teeth; she’s onto something, I can tell. "There’s something here, Seanna, something beneath the surface. I can feel it."

Her determination makes my chest tighten with pride and anxiety in equal measure. Damn, we’re both too stubborn for our own good. “Trust your instincts, Hydessa. You’ve always had a knack for finding the truth. You are so much smarter than me, believe in yourself. Have you even reached out to our parents or Uncle Max to help?”

She hesitates again, and I roll my eyes. Stubborn Darling pride.

"I don't want to involve them," she finally admits quietly. "They're busy, and I want to do this on my own. I feel like I need to get to the bottom of this myself, to prove that I can handle it."

Her reasoning hits too close to home, and I sigh softly, understanding her fierce independence all too well. "I get it. Just promise me you'll be careful, okay?”

"I will," Hydessa assures warmly, sincerity evident in her voice. "And I promise to keep you updated."

I can’t resist shifting the conversation to lighter territory, needing to distract us both from this endless, anxious spiral we tend toward. "Good. I'll be waiting for your updates. Now, back to the island life. You're surrounded by beaches and handsome men—please tell me you're having a little fun at least!"

She scoffs, exactly as expected, and I smile despite myself. Always so damn cautious.

"There are plenty of good-looking men here, but knowing my luck, I'd end up sleeping with the killer and he would stab me before I even climax."

I burst into genuine laughter, her dark humor perfectly matching my own twisted sensibilities. "Hey, you never know. You might have a knife kink and get off on being stabbed," I tease, my voice dripping with mischief. “We both know our parents are deviant as fuck, maybe you inherited some of it.”

Her laughter echoes through the phone, lifting my spirits immediately. "You're terrible," she says through giggles.

"I know, I know," I chuckle warmly, savoring this rare moment of levity between us. "But seriously, Hydessa, take a breather when you can. Don't let this mystery consume you completely. Enjoy the island while you're there."

"You're right," she agrees, finally sounding a bit lighter herself. "I'll try to unwind a bit, too."

"Good. Now, go get some rest or do something fun. You've earned it," I encourage, knowing she needs it more than she'll admit.

"Thanks, love you Seanna," she says gratefully.

"Love you, Hydessa," I reply softly, ending the call with a lingering sense of relief and warmth. Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I return to my desk, feeling just a little steadier, even if just for now.

Sliding back into my chair, I find Jensen, Matteo, and Eli staring at me with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement. I was far enough away that they shouldn’t have heard the conversation.

"What?" I snap, arching an eyebrow at them pointedly. "Anything useful happen while I was gone, or are you all just hoping I'll magically solve this clusterfuck myself?"

Jensen chuckles softly, shaking his head as he swivels his monitor toward me. "Actually, we might have found something." His voice turns serious, a welcome change from the frustrating lull we've been trapped in.

Interest piqued, I lean forward to study his screen. Jensen points to a series of surveillance images, timestamped from yesterday. "We've been combing through Navarro's known spots again—mostly dead ends, but Matteo noticed something interesting here."

Matteo steps up. "Navarro met someone new last night—unknown face, not on any watch lists. But look at the timing." He taps the timestamps. "Navarro shows up late when no one else is around, waits around almost an hour, then this guy arrives, and they talk for exactly two minutes before splitting."

"Looks like a drop or instructions being passed," Jensen adds quietly. "Whoever this guy is, Navarro clearly trusts him enough for direct contact, which means he could be a valuable weak link."

I study the grainy footage, narrowing my eyes thoughtfully. "Do we have an ID on this mystery guy yet?"

"Working on it," Eli pipes up, spinning his own monitor toward me. "I ran facial recognition—nothing local, but I'm broadening the search. Fingers crossed he pops up on someone else's radar."

"Make it a priority," I instruct sharply. "We’re running out of patience. If Navarro won’t give us an opening, maybe his friend will."

"Already on it, boss," Eli replies confidently, fingers flying over the keyboard. "I'll shake every digital tree until something useful falls out."

"Good," I say, nodding firmly. "And Jensen, Matteo—keep monitoring Navarro closely. If he meets this mystery man again, we need ears on that conversation."

"We'll handle it," Jensen assures, his gaze unwavering.

As they get back to their work my mind races, turning over Ford's stern warning alongside Hydessa’s determination to solve her own mystery. Between Ford’s expectations and my sister’s stubbornness, my drive to close this case burns hotter than ever.

Jensen catches my eye, leaning in slightly. "You alright? Ford looked intense."

"Ford’s always intense," I say dryly, shaking my head. "But he’s right—we need results, and we need them fast."

Matteo lifts his chin slightly, eyes fierce. "Then let's get them. Reyes is careful, but careful men get complacent."

I smile, sharp and dangerous. "Exactly. Cruz, Mendoza, Navarro—all roads lead back to Reyes. Somewhere there's a gap he thinks we've overlooked, a vulnerability he's forgotten. That’s where we strike. So, let’s tear these assholes’ lives apart. Find me something we can exploit."

Eli spins back around, grinning wickedly. "You know how much I love it when you talk dirty, Seanna."

"Focus, Eli," Jensen mutters, though amusement gleams in his eyes.

My lips twitch, fighting a smile. "Dirty talk later. Right now, get to work."

They all nod, determination clear as they dive back into the fray, keyboards clattering furiously as we chase down every lead. I lean back for a moment, letting the bullpen's chaos wash over me. Ford’s warning rings in my ears again, mixing with Hydessa’s cautious determination.

We’re so damn close, I can feel it—one slip-up, one mistake, and Reyes’s whole world will come crashing down around him. And when it does, I’ll be standing right there, watching it burn.

Game on, indeed.