Searching
Calle J Brookes
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Epilogue
Also by Calle J Brookes
SEARCHING
Copyright © 2021 by Calle J. Brookes
PAVAD: FBI Copyright © 2011
05112021PAV18LP
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact:
www.callejbrookes.com
Book and Cover design by C.J. Brookes
First Edition: MAY2021
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
1
Andy hadn’t deserved this.
Max Jones stood over the body of a man he had worked with for more than six years, fighting the grief—and rage. The damage to Andy’s skull was something he would never be able to erase from his head.
Andy Anderson would never smile at a stupid dad joke ever again. Andy and Max had traded dad jokes like their daughters traded cartoon playing cards.
Rain slipped down the back of Max’s neck, soaking his neck beneath his Brynlock Blackbirds sweatshirt. He had been called out from his daughter’s first basketball game of the season for this.
Andy’s daughter might be at the school now, too. Andy’s kids didn’t attend the same academy as Max’s daughter, but they competed in the same sports leagues. It was a small private school association with only four schools in the network. They interacted together all the time, from elementary school through high school.
Max knew Andy’s family very well. “Do we know what happened?”
“Not yet. We’re calling in forensics in an hour,” said Ed Dennis, the director of PAVAD—the Prevention & Analysis of Violent Acts Division of the FBI. They were in the backyard of the reasonably sized, 1960s ranch house just over the river from St. Louis. “There are…things…we need to do first.”
Max’s attention focused on the men surrounding him. Ed Dennis, Michael Hellbrook, two of the three Lorcan brothers, and both Brockman brothers. They were PAVAD now. Legends. Each and every one of them. “Why am I here?”
Max held his own, but these men were upper level. He was the lowest man on the ladder here, and he was well aware of that. There was a reason Max was there. It wasn’t because of his friendship with Andy Anderson.
“I need you to be the official face of this case,” Ed said. He alone didn’t seem bothered by the icy rain. The man was five inches shorter than Max, fifty pounds lighter, and a good twenty years older. He was also one of the few men Max would trust at his own back without hesitation.
He’d trust Ed Dennis with his own daughter. That mattered.
When the director called, PAVAD agents responded.
The director was wearing a damned near identical Brynlock sweatshirt, and they’d followed each other to the scene—from the school where their children waited.
A brief moment of concern went through him—he’d had to basically leave his daughter at the school by herself. She’d been with the school officials, but someone there specifically for her had taken him a while to arrange. Worry was always in his mind where his kid was concerned.
It was the curse of the single parent.
“He has an ex-wife,” Max said softly, looking down at the body of his friend again. Agent Andrew Mark Anderson, eight years older than Max’s own thirty-six, two inches shorter than Max’s six four, and forty pounds heavier. His hair was thinning, and graying, his glasses were six feet away, on the concrete pavers Max had helped him haul from the home repair store. Andy had been a member of the third Lorcan brother’s team of forensic accountants. “Three children, living. The oldest is about Emery’s age, the youngest is three. His daughter plays basketball; she may be at Brynlock right now.”
Ed nodded. “I’ll handle the notification; I have to go pick up my sons after…this.”
“This is a part of the search for the leak,” Sin Lorcan said flatly. “I knew we had someone on Seth’s team involved, but I didn’t suspect Anderson. Still don’t; not fully. But I can’t explain this.”
“None of us suspected Anderson,” Mick Brockman practically growled, his anger almost touchable. The head of IA was unofficially in charge of the investigation into who was targeting PAVAD—and had been for years now. He and Sin. Very few PAVAD agents had been dialed in on what was truly going on behind the scenes. “We need to go somewhere secure—where we can talk.”
“First, I’m going to call in Mari and her team. She’s with the kids at the school now. Only those we’re certain we can trust will work this,” the director said. His wife was the head of the forensics department. If they couldn’t trust her, there was probably no one in the division they could.
Thunder rumbled overhead, despite the chilly rain pelting them all. Max waited for one of the other men to say something. Anything to get this case going.
He looked down at his friend again. Every memory and image
