Room 203: A Marice Houston Mystery, #2

By Dellani Oakes

Having just moved in with her fiance, Kris, Marice isn't too happy to be given an out of town job. She has been sent to Daytona Beach, Florida. There's been a huge sting operation, and the local FBI is under scrutiny. The Marshals have been called in to oversee prisoner transfers.

Things get sticky when Marice and her team are ordered to transport the ringleader, China Finetti, from Daytona Beach to a federal prison in Kansas City. Someone sets a car bomb, injuring Marice and Butch—and that's only the tip of the iceberg. Everything seems to point to China Finetti pulling the strings from prison—if so, how do they prove it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dellani Oakes
• Release date: Aug 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393505136

Dellani Oakes

Dellani is a happily married mother of four—three boys and a girl. She also has one beautiful, golden haired granddaughter. She lives in the sunny, hot climes of Florida's east coast, not far from World Famous Daytona Beach. Dellani once told her publisher that she had enough books, finished & unfinished, to keep him busy for the next 10 years. He didn't believe her, but he should have. A few years later, she's upped that number. She has 53 finished novels, Conduct Unbecoming is her sixth published novel. Dellani hosts two shows a month on Blog Talk Radio – Dellani's Tea Time and What's Write for Me, which air on the Red River Radio Network. Look for Dellani's shows the second Monday of the month and the fourth Wednesday. Both shows air at 4:00 PM Eastern time.

Book preview

Dedication:

As always, for my husband & children. You may not understand what I do or why,

but at least you don't mind that I do it.

To my mother, who woke the love of words in me.

To my father, who taught me that good editing is as important as good writing

For Audrey—because you're Nana's angel and I love you.

For Amberly—because you are Nana's angel, too and I love you.

Many Thanks To:

Suzette Vaughn for the amazing cover.

Karen Vaughn & Christina Giguere for being my cheering section.

Marta Moran Bishop and Susan Stotler who also encouraged me.

Room 203

by

Dellani Oakes

CHAPTER ONE

The wind whipped across the Tarmac, hot and humid. This is February, surely they could arrange a little cooler weather? But it's February in Daytona Beach, Florida. This is, apparently, as cool as it gets. I was here on assignment, and wondering why I had to come all the way from Kansas City, Missouri to handle a Florida prisoner, who was only going as far as north Florida. Apparently, there had been some doubt as to whether the entire Jacksonville team had been compromised, or at the very least, they had recused themselves because of the situation there. It wasn't pretty. Several very prestigious people had been arrested and held without bail. It was the biggest sting in the history of the FBI. They brought the Marshal's office in on the affair, at the request of an elite and secret watchdog team, who had uncovered the scandal, with the help of a civilian.

I wasn't clear on details, but I knew that the Marshal's Service were bringing in people from all over the country to handle the arrests, processing and transfers. Even members of the elite team had been subverted or blackmailed. Although they had brought the corruption to light, their actions were also under the microscope. So much for being an elite whistle-blowing team.

Wiping sweat from my brow, I waited for my luggage to come off the small, private plane. One thing I liked about this job, I didn't have to fly commercial. We were high profile enough to be given our own plane. My fellow Deputy Marshals tromped off the plane in my wake and stood around waiting for directions.

Weren't we supposed to be met? Babette Warner, my former training officer, asked.

So we were led to believe, I replied tersely. In the space of ten minutes, she'd asked no less than seven times. For Babs, that was a lot. Usually, she was calm and collected. Something had her jumpy. I'm sure someone will be here soon.

As if they had read my mind, a white van pulled up. A tall, spare framed woman got out. Her straight blonde hair fell past her shoulders. She wore a gray suit coat, with low slung, matching pants, and a white shirt. A taller, square jawed man with salt and pepper hair, was at the wheel. Both wore dark glasses. I was wishing I hadn't left mine in my luggage.

I'm so sorry we're late, the woman said with a smile. "Road Warrior couldn't find the way." She tipped her head at her companion.

The man held up his hands, shrugging. You told me to drive.

In fairness, it's his first time to this part of the airport. She stepped forward, hand extended to Babs, who was senior officer. I'm Special Agent Colleen Underwood. The guy at the wheel is Brick McMillan—special adjunct.

I recognized the name of the man who had helped unveil the scandal. Smiling, I shook her hand, introducing myself and the rest of the team.

The bags arrived on a trolley and she led them to the rear of the vehicle. Once these were squared away, we got in. The van was large enough to hold us, if we squeezed a little. Babs rode up front with Colleen and Brick. I scrunched in the middle with Butch Davis and Arnie French, also from Kansas City. Behind me, three guys we'd picked up in Jackson, Mississippi, tried to get situated in the back seat. It was less than comfy, especially with all of us sweating.

Had rather a shake up, Babs said in a businesslike tone.

This was the gossip of the day. We all wanted the scoop. Being head of our team, Babs was in the best position to get it.

The boss will tell you when we arrive, Brick said, not giving anymore details than that.

Who is in charge?

Special Agent in Charge Danielle Tooker. Still figuring out the chain of command. I'm more or less next, Colleen replied. Depends on whether they decide to turn jurisdiction over the the Marshals, then I imagine it will be a coin toss between you, and Deputy Wexler, from Miami. He's not terribly interested in running things. He's less than three months from retirement. He claims that being the big dog, is for the young.

Babs chuckled. She's in her forties, but doesn't look it. She's a hell of a deputy, and I had been lucky to train with her.

Our Babs loves the spotlight, Butch said, earning himself a dirty look from our boss.

Why are we in Daytona and not Jacksonville? I asked.

You're Houston?

Yes, ma'am.

Just Colleen. They're going through the Jacksonville offices with a fine tooth. There's a federal courthouse in Daytona, so they moved us in there. Didn't make the other occupants very happy, but since most of the local team is under indictment, it seemed the logical place to go.

Wow, that's not good! I didn't even know there was a satellite office here.

Usually, there's not. But there's been some hinky doings around here the last few years. They moved Danielle down from Jacksonville last winter. Her husband grew up in the area. He's another adjunct, a police officer with fifteen years on the force.

Handy to have.

Very. And he has an extended family that's prominent in all forms of government and law enforcement. What Neil can't get done, isn't worth doing. Between him and Brick, we're well connected. But we needed the big guns, so the Marshals got the hat trick.

What she really means, Brick interjected, "Is that everyone was foaming at the mouth to get the job, and only the Marshals said they didn't want it, so they got it."

I had to laugh at that. We'd been just as anxious to have it, our bosses had simply played it a different way.

Homeland was snarling for it, but a couple of their agents were also implicated.

Wow, I had no idea it was that extensive, Butch said. That's disturbing.

How far afield does this go? one of the Mississippi deputies drawled.

We're still figuring it out. Far bigger than we anticipated, Colleen replied. Danielle will give a full briefing. Meanwhile, enjoy the ride. Turn right up here, she told Brick. For someone who grew up here, you're useless, she admonished.

"I grew up in New Smyrna, not Daytona. And, in fairness to me, these streets have changed a lot in twenty years."

I should send you back to Kansas.

Missouri.

That earned him an eye roll and a snort.

You from KSC? Butch brightened.

"Yes. Most recently. I was born and raised in Florida, but I've lived in Kansas City, Missouri, he emphasized the state. Since 1999. Just bought a place here, though."

Nice!

Brick smiled at Colleen. It has its compensations.

None of us said anything, but we could all tell there was something between these two. It wasn't exactly hard to tell—we are trained professionals. Also, they gave off a sex vibe that got my pulse racing. I hated like hell that I'd had to take this gig, but we had two people out, one on maternity leave, the other for emergency surgery, and I had to go. I moved in with my college sweetheart two weeks ago and was enjoying the honeymoon phase of our relationship—very much.

We arrived at the tall, mostly glass, federal courthouse in Daytona. It wasn't all that impressive, but it looked sturdy and well protected. I certainly hoped it was, because Kris had made me promise to come back in my original configuration, and I intended to do that. The van pulled into a parking garage and stopped in a reserved spot on the far side of the facility.

We're not important enough to get closer to the elevator, Brick said.

We displaced the IRS, among others, Colleen explained. They don't like us, and don't think we have any business here.

Makes me wonder what they're trying to hide, Brick concluded.

That they're complete tool bags? I suggested.

Everyone laughed.

I'm gonna like you, Colleen said with a grin.

I had a feeling I was going to get along well with her. She and Brick seemed like they were smart and on the ball. I hoped the rest of the team was as amiable and sharp.

We followed them to the elevator and rode to the second floor. The signage was down, though it said FBI on the door. The floors were black and green marble-looking tile. The walls were tan and beige, accented with burnished bronze and dark brown wood. It had a feeling of authority and stability to it. An office stood open in front of us, the bustle and chatter of important business spilled into the hallway. Phones rang almost continuously. There were three women at the desk, answering and putting people on hold, transferring, and fielding questions. They looked harassed and I could sympathize. I wouldn't want that job for anything. I strongly hoped it wouldn't be delegated to me.

Another tall, athletic blonde stood in the middle of the room. Her suit was similar in cut to Colleen's, though when she turned around, I saw she was many months pregnant. She smiled, holding out her hand to Babette.

Danielle Tooker. You must be Babette Warner. Introduce me?

Babs shook the proffered hand. This is Marice Houston. She helped to capture D.W. Scrivener last September. This is Butch Davis and Arnie French. Both of them were on the team who helped take Scrivener down. These other three fellows are from Jackson, Mississippi. Ian Hotaling, Casper Van Zant and Elliot Gerson.

It was members of our office who were attacked and killed by Scrivener, Hotaling, the lead from Jackson said.

I'm sorry to hear that. I know losing your friends isn't easy, for any of us.

Too true, ma'am.

They shook hands and we went to a large room labeled Conference 203. Food was set out, as well as several choices of beverages. The meal was a variety of subs and a few cold salads—pasta, Greek and potato. There was also ambrosia salad with the little marshmallows. I don't know about you, but I can eat my birth weight in that. I noticed that Colleen and Danielle liked it too. No wonder the bowl was larger than the others. There was none of that left at the end of the meal.

When we were finished, the meeting began in earnest. We were joined by Danielle's husband, Neil, and several more adjuncts. I wasn't quite sure what they did for a living, before joining this ragtag team, but they comported themselves as professionals. It would take me some time to learn names. I've never been good at that. A lot of the time, you can get away by calling someone sir or ma'am, but I had no idea who outranked whom, or if they even held any kind of rank. Overall, it was pretty confusing.

After the first hour, we took a bathroom break, and I took the opportunity to call Kris. I'd kept my phone off all this time, and finally turned it on to find seventeen messages from my love. I couldn't go outside, but I did stand in a not-so-busy corner and called.

Hello, beautiful! he answered.

Hiya, handsome.

When did you get in?

A couple hours ago. We got busy right away. I feel like I'm about ready to hit sensory overload. This is totally different from anything I've done before.

You'll do great, Houston. You improvise, adapt and overcome better than anyone I know.

You say the sweetest things, Hood. I miss you horribly. I wish you were here.

You miss the sex, he teased.

Well, yeah! Didn't I say it was the best ever?

You did. On more than one occasion. We'll make up for it when you get home.

I have no idea when that will be. This place is in chaos. I never saw such a messy situation. I can't tell you anything.

I know, but that's okay. I'm here, I love you, and I'm glad you're safe.

I'm here, I love you and you stay safe, too. No more getting shot, okay?

Promise. You aren't around to attract the wrong element.

He was referring to the past fall when we'd been stalked by Darrell Scrivener, a psychotic killer/ rapist who had murdered my brother, raped his girlfriend, and escaped from federal custody. He'd been trying to get me out of the way. We never were sure if he'd been aiming at me or Kris, but I'm convinced he was trying to shoot my love.

That wasn't my doing—entirely.

Marice, I never blamed you for that. You know I'm just teasing.

I sniffled. Perfect. I needed to melt into tears in the middle of this disarray.

Pull 'em up, Houston, Kris said in a warm, gentle tone.

Pull what up?

Your Droopy Deputy Drawers. I'll still be here when you get home. If you're going to be there too long, I'll come visit. Can't have you go for long without your orgasms. You'll get cranky.

I burst out laughing. You're a son-of-a-bitch, Hood.

Don't let my mama hear you say that.

Never in a million years. I'll call when I get back—to wherever I'm staying.

Okay. You take it as it comes. Hey, guess what?

What?

I love you.

I love you, too.

Bye, babe.

"Bye.

One of the adjuncts, whose named I'd forgotten, a woman with brown hair and green eyes, walked up. We're about to reconvene. You need a minute? She wiped my cheek with her thumb, showing my mascara was bleeding.

Oh, great. Yes. Thanks....

Aileen. I'm with the blond. She jerked her head toward the group of men, all of whom were blond.

Clears that right up. I chuckled and went back to the bathroom. A couple minutes with damp towels and an emergency application of mascara would do it. I had a misty, cloudy effect around my eyes now. It actually looked good.

Aileen met me in the hallway. We'll be splitting into teams and taking on the most immediate jobs. You'll be with me. We're doing at least one adjunct and deputy per team, with fibbie fill-ins as needed.

Okay.

We're playing this by ear. I know it's organized anarchy at the moment, but we're gaining on it.

It's fine.

She gave me a level look and I knew she wanted to know about the meltdown. Normally, I wouldn't have said anything, but she was sympathetic and comfortable to talk to.

Just moved in with my fiance and got this assignment. Not that I mind the assignment, but leaving him wasn't easy.

It never is, I know. You're not too preoccupied?

No. I'm fine now. Just a momentary girly moment.

She chuckled, nodding. Even I have those—rare.... Her eyes flickered over to one of the blond men, who was laughing with the others. But I get it. If Joel and I had to be apart, I think I'd have a moment, too.

We paused, both lost in our own thoughts for a moment. Shaking myself out of it, I flashed a professional smile.

What's our assignment?

Danielle will let us know. She's spending the afternoon getting Babette up to speed. She and Danielle will split the duties for a time, then it will be Babs' ballgame. Danielle's due soon, and Wexler has made it clear he's spinning wheels. I don't know why they sent him.

To get him out of their bullpen. I raised an eyebrow, as if to ask her if she'd want him hanging around.

I'm going to like you, she decided with a grin.

Ditto, Boss.

Gathered in the conference room once more, we heard our assignments and got our gear and weapons before trotting down the stairs.

We're closer to the cars if we use the stairs, Aileen said. I prefer not to be in the open if I can help it. There's a lot of empty space between here and there.

I agreed. I don't mind stairs, although my thigh prefers an elevator going up. I was shot a few years ago, and the scar still pulls.

Who's the better shot?