His to Take (Wicked Lovers #9)(6)
Author: Shayla Black

“Exactly. But you won’t have an easy time tracking her down. According to Sean, the adoption records have been sealed tight. What we do know is the five-year-old girl wandering the side of the road was in shock and couldn’t remember her name. The couple who found her took her to the local sheriff. She was adopted out shortly thereafter.”

“She must be the one these people are after, just to learn what she knows about her father’s research or where he might have hidden it.” Joaquin blew out a breath. “I’ve got to find her.”

“Before they do,” Hunter added.

“Which means we don’t have much time. Days at most. Probably more like hours.”

Hunter plucked his cell phone out of the pocket of his sweat pants and made a call. Logan’s materialized from his jeans. Within a few minutes, the place was crawling with people. First to show up was a big blond mountain of a man Hunter introduced as his brother-in-law, Deke.

The big guy shook Joaquin’s hand. “I may have to leave suddenly. Kimber started having contractions this afternoon.”

“My sister,” Logan supplied to Joaquin, then frowned. “She’s not due yet.”

“We’re only at week twenty-eight, so it’s a concern. They’ll stop her labor . . . if they can.”

“No worries,” Hunter assured him. “If you’ve got to go, just go.”

“Jack’s on his way. Morgan isn’t due for months, so he shouldn’t have any problems being here for the duration.”

Joaquin frowned, staring at the men. What the fuck? A bunch of tough dudes all into their wives and kids. Were they trying to double the population of Lafayette, Louisiana, singled-handedly or go for some fucked-up record in that big Guinness book?

“Your wife is pregnant,” he said to Hunter. “And so is yours,” he addressed Deke. “This Jack guy’s wife is expecting, and . . .” He turned to Logan. “Your wife just had twins.”

“Yep.” Logan flashed him a cheesy grin. “Don’t forget my buddy, Xander. He and his brother are waiting for their wife to give birth, too. Six weeks to go.”

“Their wife?”

Logan nodded, giving him a stare that dared him to say more.

Honestly, he didn’t care much how these guys rolled, but . . . “What the fuck is in the water around here? If I get laid while I’m in town, remind me to tell her not to drink it.”

Deke barked out a laugh. “It’s not the water. We’re all just horny.”

Logan grimaced. “I don’t want to hear that about my sister, dude. Eww! I need ear bleach.”

“Get over yourself.” Deke punched Logan in the shoulder. “My wife is hot.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “I’m ignoring your comments about my sister. Personally, I think everyone is trying to keep up with Tyler.”

“This will be baby number three for them,” Logan agreed with a nod.

“Delaney wants a girl this time.”

Personally, Joaquin didn’t give a shit, but just about the time he opened his mouth to remind them they had a case to work and that lives hung in the balance, Jack Cole showed up. He brought along a guy he introduced as Stone, who had a heavy brow line, a square face, and almost dead eyes.

Joaquin brought the newcomers up to speed. Within five minutes, they had multiple workstations up, humming on a super-secure Internet connection. Several of the guys were on the phone with their contacts as they quickly took Joaquin’s list of all girls adopted in December 1998 at age five. Stone’s fingers flew over his keyboard. He might look like a caveman, but the guy was definitely high-tech. In moments, he began whittling the list of names down to a handful that fit Tatiana Aslanov’s profile.

Finally, as dawn crested over the Louisiana skyline, Logan made one last call, to a guy named Mitchell Thorpe. The name sounded familiar, but Joaquin couldn’t place it.

“Callie with you?” Logan asked the man.

“Right beside me,” said the voice on the speakerphone. “Aren’t you, pet?”

A little feminine sigh, followed by a giggle. “Yes. Stop it!”

“Would you like to change your tone and rephrase that? It sounded a whole lot like a demand,” said the man with the commanding voice.

“Sorry.” She sounded almost contrite . . . but not quite.

“Because she’s a little minx,” said another man on the other end of the phone.

Joaquin frowned. The Callie on the line was Callindra Howe? Apparently. So Thorpe was with Callie and . . . who else? Her fiancé?

“Did you need to talk to her, Logan?” Thorpe asked.