Second Chances: A PAVAD Duet

SECOND CHANCES

Reuniting

&

Reckoning

CALLE J. BROOKES

The Lost River Literary name
and imprint are the sole properties of independent publishers Calle
J. Brookes and B.G. Lashbrooks. They cannot be reproduced or used
in any manner; nor can any of their publications or designs be used
without expressed written permission. This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events or persons, or locations, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or
portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

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SECOND CHANCES

SMASHWORDS
EDITION

Reuniting Copyright ©2012
Calle J. Brookes

Reckoning Copyright ©2013
Calle J. Brookes

Cover by B.G.
Lashbrooks

All rights
reserved.

The door knocked Dan
Reynolds on his ass. The woman barreling through it tripped over
his leg and only Dan’s quick reflexes kept her from striking the
cold tile floor of the St. Louis FBI building’s lobby.

“
Oh my God!” She
flat-handed his chest, using his body to attempt to regain her
balance. Dan’s only impression of her up to that point had been
vanilla and chaos. His nose somehow ended up buried in her hair,
his left hand wrapping around her narrow hip, and his right
clutching the damned cane that had been his constant companion for
the last three months. “I am so sorry, sir.”

“
What’s the big rush?” Dan
helped her right herself, the man in him getting a small bit of
enjoyment from the contact between his hand and her body. Dan might
be in his early fifties, but he was still a man. Even if half the
time he didn’t feel like it. “Can’t be that important, not if
you’re rushing into the building instead of out.”

“
I’m late. It’s my first
day.” Her hands fluttered ineffectively near his shoulders as he
used both the wall and the damned cane to pull himself to his feet.
One more month, the doctor had said, and he’d be free of the cane
forever. A month he couldn’t wait to pass. He’d be completely
healed. Well, as completely as he could be. Reinjuring an old
injury would do that to a man, he knew. And he’d do it all again.
“And I’m not sure where I’m going, and the car wouldn’t start, the
kids wouldn’t start, I couldn’t find a cab. I think I have the
wrong room number written down.”

Dan held up his free hand
as he shifted to face the chaos in front of him fully for the first
time. She stood half a head shorter than his five-ten, and weighed
about seventy pounds less. She was older than he’d first thought,
probably closer to forty than thirty. She was pretty, and sweet.
Uncomplicated. Blonde hair brushed her shoulders and wire-rimmed
glasses framed blue eyes, giving her a studious look. “Where
does it say you’re supposed to be?”

“
Thirty-six B.” She frowned
at the paper in her hand. “But that doesn’t sound right, does
it?”

“
No.” Dan took the
paperwork, official transfer dockets from the looks of them, from
her unresisting hand. He learned one thing about her right then and
there. She was far too trusting, especially working for the FBI.
“Three B six. Third floor, hallway B, sixth room. Come on, I’m on
my way up there, right now. We have just enough time to make
it.”

“
Oh, thank you,
mister...”

“
Dan Reynolds. I’m with
Hellbrook’s team, Complex Crimes.”

“
Allison Brewster, well,
Dr. Brewster. Most people call me Allison, though. Or Ally. Some
people call me Ally.” She offered him a hand and beamed. Dan had no
choice but to shake it, although something was telling him it would
be a smart idea to not touch this woman. Not to even think about
touching this woman. But Dan wanted to touch this woman.

Ally felt like a complete
idiot as she walked beside the man, careful to keep herself paced
with his slower steps. Walking hurt him; she could see that in his
eyes. He had nice eyes. Green. His hair was redder than blond with
a bit of gray mixed in, but it wasn’t unattractive. He was very
seasoned and rugged. He looked like a sailor or a pirate. Or a
soldier.

She’d always been an
imaginative woman, and people were her favorite subjects. She’d
look at them and wonder what they’d done, what they’d seen, where
they had been. And it was obvious that Dan Reynolds had seen a
lot.

They didn’t speak as they
entered the conference room. It was filled with more people than
Ally expected and she stepped back a moment. Crowds made her a
little uneasy. She was used to the relative solitude of the lab,
where she was free to be herself while running her tests, and while
she loved people, large groups of them shoved into a small room
bothered her. On a deep level.

She resisted the urge to
stay close to Dan’s side. His was the only name she knew―she didn’t
see anyone from her team anywhere in the crowd.

Nearly her entire team had
transferred from the Indianapolis field office to be a part of the
elite special task unit of the Prevention & Analysis of Violent
Acts Division. St. Louis was the stuff legends were made of, and
Allison was thrilled that her team was asked to relocate; in fact,
her entire unit had been asked. Only two people had
refused.

It was the highest honor of
her ten year tenure with the Bureau. She’d gambled everything on
this post. She swallowed at the enormity of the changes she’d
wrought in her children’s lives in the last week.

This had to work out. It
had to. For her, but most especially for them. Ryan and Aislin had
been through so many changes in the last four months. It wouldn’t
be fair to them if this didn’t work out. She’d promised them St.
Louis would be a new start for all of them.

Except their
father.

He’d found his new start
elsewhere with someone else, walking away from his wife of fifteen
years, his eleven-year-old son and four-year-old daughter. He’d
taken the cat.

He took the damned
cat.

Ally didn’t quite
understand that. The man couldn’t bear to part with...the cat. The
kids...apparently they didn’t mean as much to him as...the cat. And
it wasn’t even a nice cat.

“
We’d better take a seat.”
Dan said, drawing her out of her worries. He was right, the rest of
the crowd was quickly sinking into the chairs surrounding several
small tables. All were positioned within easy sight of the podium.
“I expect Director Dennis will be here soon. You see your people
anywhere?”

Ally stretched on her toes,
scanning the crowd for a familiar face. It shouldn’t have been too
hard to find her team; after all, how many tables would have her
teammate Kelly? Kelly, with her purple-streaked strawberry-blond
hair cut in razor chunks down to her shoulders, her multiple ear
piercings, wild way of dressing, and diamond nose stud?

Her partner stood out, and
that’s what Ally was counting on. Hoping for.

“
There.” She’d spotted
Kelly, and from her it was a quick spot to see Marianna, Payton,
Cody and Sam, they were sitting with Jonathan’s team. “But there
are no empty chairs.”

“
Come on, then. You’re more
than welcome to sit with me and my team. We should have an extra
chair.” His free hand gripped her arm, escorting her to a table
near the front of the room where a group of eight people sat
laughing and talking with two other full tables beside them. There
were two chairs left.

Ally swallowed again, these
were the people she’d be working with from now on. And as Dan led
her to the empty chairs they all stopped talking and turned to
stare―at him or her, Ally couldn’t tell.

Dan didn’t miss the sudden
look of nerves that hit Dr. Brewster’s pretty face. The little
whirlwind was shy? He never would have expected it, not from the
way she’d chattered at him since the moment she’d knocked him down.
Protectiveness welled in him, an emotion he was long familiar
with.

He always felt protective
when it came to females. Always. Came from having four younger
sisters. And three young daughters. And four female
teammates.

He wrapped his fingers
tighter around her elbow, helping her into the chair. It was
awkward for him, his balance still off from the shooting. But he
managed, then stood over her chair.

“
You’re back,” Carrie
said, eying him with that earnest expression he loved. Carrie
Sparks had helped Dan come to peace with his missing daughters. She
took the place of them to some extent―and most likely always would.
Carrie was something special to him, and always would be.
Regardless of the new husband sitting protectively beside her, his
hand resting possessively on her back. It was partially because of
Carrie he was injured in the first place, and it was because of her
that he’d do it all again. It was because of her that he didn’t
regret it at all. “I missed you.”

“
I missed you, too, kiddo.
But I’m sure that husband of yours kept you busy. And if he didn’t,
I’m sure Hellbrook did. Everybody listen up...” Dan waited until he
had the attention of all three tables. “This is Dr. Brewster, part
of the new ERTs that transferred in this week. Her table was a bit
crowded so I offered her a spot with us. I trust you can all behave
and make her feel welcome?”

He proceeded to introduce
her to the CCU team, plus Lorcan, Brockman, and Sorin’s teams. Only
McLaughlin and Hellbrook were nowhere to be found. He was just
about to ask their whereabouts when the speaker system tripped to
life in front of them. Hellbrook and McLaughlin stood with the
director, Edward Dennis, as they prepared for the meeting. Dan sank
into his chair, hooking the cane over the back of the cold metal
where he’d be able to easily reach it when the meeting was over.
Four more weeks, and he’d be tossing the cane out the window. But
at least now he was back where he belonged. He took some solace in
that.

And his team looked good.
They all did. Carrie glowed, her new marriage obviously doing
wonders for her. She wasn’t as tightly strung, he realized. She
tapped, but it was muted now. Carrie was somewhere on the autistic
side. Dan had never asked her exact diagnosis because it didn’t
matter to him, but one of the habits she had to keep herself calm
was tapping out a one-two-three-and-four . But it was muted now.
Was that her husband Lorcan’s doing? Dan watched them for a quick
moment, taking in the body language, the way they touched, the way
they leaned into one another. He felt some of the animosity he felt
toward Lorcan ebb away. They’d been married less than two months,
but Carrie seemed to be doing ok.