Full Disclosure (A Nice Guys Novel Book 2) Read online

  Full Disclosure

  Kindle Alexander

  Full Disclosure

  Copyright © Kindle Alexander, 2014

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Edited by Jae Ashley

  Special thanks to Pamela Ebeler

  Cover art and interior print layout by Reese Dante

  http://www.reesedante.com

  First Edition September 2014

  ISBN: 978-1-941450-01-7

  Published by: The Kindle Alexander Collection LLC

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Kindle Alexander LLC, [email protected]. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from Kindle Alexander, LLC. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author's rights and livelihood is appreciated.

  Full Disclosure is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  Trademark Acknowledgements

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following trademarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  F-250: Ford Motor Company

  AAA: American Automobile Association, Inc.

  Advil: Wyeth, LLC

  American Airlines: American Airlines, Inc.

  American Express: American Express Marketing & Development Corp.

  Apple: Apple, Inc.

  Austin-Bergstrom International Airport: City of Austin

  Band-Aid: Johnson & Johnson Corporation

  Bisquick: General Mills Marketing, Inc.

  Blake Shelton: Blake Shelton, individual

  Blue Bell: Blue Bell Creameries, L.P.

  Boy Scout: Boy Scouts of America Corporation

  Bud Light: Anheuser-Busch, Incorporated

  Buick: General Motors LLC

  Captain America: Marvel Characters, Inc.

  Coke: The Coca-Cola Company

  Coors: MillerCoors LLC

  Crown: Diageo North America, Inc.

  Doc Marten: Dr. Martens International Trading GmbH

  Dr. Pepper: Dr Pepper/Seven Up, Inc.

  Dodge Charger: Chrysler, LLC

  Dulles International: Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority

  Dumpster: Toccoa Metal Technologies, Inc.

  Dunkin’ Donuts: Dunkin’ Donuts USA, Inc.

  Embassy Suites: HLT Domestic IP LLC

  ESPN: ESPN, Inc.

  Glock: Glock, Inc.

  Grateful Dead: Grateful Dead Productions Corporation

  Harvard: President and Fellows of Harvard College Charitable Corporation

  Hilton: HLT Domestic IP LLC

  International Police Association: International Police Association

  iPad: Apple, Inc.

  Lady Antebellum (Just a Kiss): Lady A Entertainment LLC

  Levi's: Levi Strauss & Co. Corporation

  Linkin Park (Crawling): Linkin Park, LLC

  Mack Truck: Mack Trucks, Inc.

  Mavericks: Dallas Basketball Limited

  McDonald’s: McDonald’s Corporation

  Mustang GT: Ford Motor Company

  Omni Hotel: Omni Hotels Management Corporation

  Princess Barbie: Mattel, Inc.

  Prius: Toyota Jidosha Kabushiki Kaisha AKA Toyota Motor Corporation

  Ranch Style (beans): Conagra Brands, Inc.

  Ray-Bans: Luxottica Group S.P.A.

  Red Bull: Red Bull GMBH LLC

  SEALs: The Department of the Navy

  Sharpie: Sanford, L.P.

  Skype: Skype Corporation

  SpongeBob: Viacom International Inc.

  Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation

  State of Decay: Microsoft Corporation

  Stepford Wives: Paramount Pictures Corporation & DreamWorks, LLC

  Styrofoam: The Dow Chemical Company

  Superman: DC Comics General Partnership

  Tahoe: General Motors LLC

  Texas Department of Public Safety: Texas Department of Public Safety, state agency

  Texas Rangers (baseball): Rangers Baseball, LLC

  The Matrix: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.

  The Walking Dead: AMC Film Holdings LLC

  Thunder: The Professional Basketball Club, LLC

  Twilight Zone: CBS Broadcasting Inc.

  Wranglers: Wrangler Apparel Corp.

  YouTube: Google, Inc.

  Table of 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

  Epilogue

  Dedication

  To our amazing readers,

  family and all our wonderful friends,

  thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

  Without your continued support and encouragement we wouldn't be here.

  Perry, you are missed every day.

  Kindle, you are forever in our hearts.

  Valerie, this couldn’t have been done without you. Denise Milano Sprung there are no words my dear friend.

  Chapter 1

  The recline of Mitch Knox’s oversized leather chair fit him perfectly. This exact comfort level had required years of fine-tuning and honing the balance, but he’d invested the time, proud of the results. He sat at an angle, his Doc Marten booted feet propped securely against the file folders on his desk.

  Lost in thought, Mitch’s brow narrowed as he bit at his thumbnail. His eyes stayed fixed on the inner workings of the Camp Beauregard, Louisiana, United States Marshals Service field office. Like normal, he wasn’t truly paying attenti
on to anything going on outside his office door. What occupied his mind was a case on which he’d managed to get little more than a passing interest from his senior advisors and definitely zero dollars to help fund an investigation. Man, that frustrated the shit out of him.

  The lingering doubt that plagued his thoughts surfaced. Why hadn’t he been able to move this case any further along in all these months? Clearly, he’d completely lost his touch. Maybe his age had something to do with that. He’d just turned thirty-three. Close to middle-age, or hell, he could qualify for a solid middle-age compared to the life expectancies in this country. Good thing his people lived to ripe old ages, or he’d really be down about this latest birthday.

  The shrill ring from his antiquated office telephone interrupted his thoughts, drawing his attention back into the now. Since caller ID hadn’t made itself to the field office yet, Mitch was forced to answer the call blindly. He recoiled at the thought, but picked up the phone nonetheless. “Deputy Marshal Knox here.”

  “This is Director Skinner.” The voice sounded strained on the other end, which was the norm, considering how much he’d been nagging his superior about the Colton Michaels case.

  “Yes, sir, hang on.” Mitch reached over his desk, extending an arm as far as he could across his small office to shut the door. The move effectively drowned out all the noise coming from the large grouping of cubicles just outside. Mitch had plopped back in his seat by the time the door slammed firmly shut. “You rang?”

  “You’re ignoring your email again. You’re being requested on a federal warrant to transport Carlos Chavez from Dallas to Washington tomorrow morning.”

  “All right,” Mitch said absently, raising his feet back in place on his desk as he reached out to pull up his email. He searched the incoming messages, going all the way back before lunch, because, while he would never admit the words out loud, he hadn’t checked his email since he’d arrived this morning. Shit, now it was close to quitting time on a Friday. He needed to get moving.

  Mitch held the receiver between his ear and shoulder as he brought the keyboard to his lap. He replied to the message quickly, letting them know he was on his way and took a second to print the details before forwarding the message to his assistant.

  “Mitch, are you ignoring me again? I told you in your last performance evaluation, there’s a hierarchy in all this. When you ignore me, your boss, and then the senior ranking officer who’s also been emailing you this afternoon, that doesn’t bode well,” Director Skinner lectured.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Mitch paused, knowing full well it wasn’t time for jokes, but he loved annoying his higher-ups. He kind of lived for these moments. He waited until he finally heard the exasperated sigh on the other end of the phone.

  Score! He achieved the desired result and grinned, probably for the first time that day. “Don’t worry, I already responded to the message. I’ll have to make a few calls, then I’ll get the first flight out. I’ll be there tonight, ready for the bust in the morning.”

  “Then why are you still on the phone?” Skinner asked in a very lame attempt at humor.

  “Ha ha. I keep telling you to leave the jokes to me. Bye.” He didn’t waste a second before he ended one call and started another. He dialed Ellen, his assistant, and pushed the speaker button.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” she answered.

  “What’s with all you jokesters today? This is serious law enforcement business. Not playtime!” Mitch scolded, cocking his head to the side. The blinds to his office window were raised, and if he bent a little farther, he could see her at her cubicle. She was looking directly at him. “I sent you an email. I need to arrange a trip to Dallas for departure ASAP. Once you get the details, will you forward them to the email address inside the message I sent you?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ellen said with a bright smile. She was young, pretty, and extremely capable. And from day one, she’d always used the ‘sir’ on him, but as of his last birthday, the word seemed to take on a whole new meaning.

  “What have I told you about that?” he asked, irritably.

  “You told me you aren’t old enough to be a sir yet.” She made air quotes at the word sir. “But you are.” They had been through this before. He knew the comeback and could never beat her at this game, but it didn’t stop him from engaging.

  “You don’t have to say it,” Mitch said drily in her pause.

  “Because my parents always taught me to be respectful of my elders.” He made a show of rolling his eyes. She always had that same response, clearly very proud of her attempt at humor. She laughed and Mitch tried hard to hide his smile, not wanting to spur her on.

  “You need better jokes.” He gave a little chuckle as he reached across the desk to end the call. That didn’t stop her. He should have known it wouldn’t as she opened his office door and stuck her head inside.

  “Why? When that one still works so well!” The door shut quickly, and he ignored her completely as he packed his laptop and grabbed his cellphone off the charger. By the time he hit the elevators, his cell vibrated with an incoming email. Ellen was a keeper, even in her current state of becoming a pain in his ass. She’d already arranged his flight, departure in an hour and a half. Just enough time to grab his always ready kit and get to the airport.

  Chapter 2

  Mitch entered the airport like he always did, in almost a dead run. An hour and half after quitting time, during rush hour traffic, even in Pineville, Louisiana, clearly wasn’t enough time to get from his office to his apartment and then to the airport. He should have known better.

  He slung his duffel over his shoulder as he slid his credit card into the closest kiosk and then hit continue when his name appeared on the screen. He went through the on-screen steps and grabbed his boarding pass before heading directly to TSA security. Thank god he could bypass the line and go the back way into the terminal. He handed over his badge to an employee who knew him all too well and easily passed the first checkpoint before being ushered to the next.

  Mitch opened his laptop case and slid the duffel onto the conveyor belt before pulling his extra clip from a special compartment inside the bag. He unholstered the standard issue Glock he always had strapped inside the waistband of his jeans and placed both inside a tray. He liked the shock value the guys in the back got when they saw the weapon through the scanner’s monitor. He figured he was doing his civic duty by giving them the jolt they needed to refocus on their tedious jobs.

  The whole time he unloaded, he worked the laces of his boots until they slid off his feet. From this point, he’d have to carry those as he ran for the gate.

  “Hey, Mitch. Step inside, hands up please,” Velma, an older, female TSA agent, said.

  “Hey, Velma, gonna pat me down this time?” he asked, standing still with his hands in the air as the machine took his body image.

  “Only if I’m lucky. You know I like all those big muscles on my men. Makes for a real man,” she teased. A male TSA agent stood behind her and gave a grunt in her direction.

  “He’s clean,” the guy said.

  “Guess it wasn’t my day,” she said, cackling as he smiled and walked past her.

  “I’m late or I’d go ahead and let you feel me up,” Mitch teased, grabbing his gear, waiting for the agent behind the desk to run his pistol through their computer system. He gave her a wink as she fanned herself.

  “Oh lordy, Mitch Knox, you’re a fine-looking tease of a man. If I was ten years younger!” Velma was five foot nothing compared to his six foot four inch frame, but he bet money she could hold her own. Maybe even outdo him when things got down to it.

  “Go, Mitch. Velma’s supposed to be a professional,” the agent said from behind the desk. That got Mitch laughing as she shot the finger in her coworker’s direction. “I’ll see you guys later.” Mitch took off, running toward his gate. As he hit the last call from the flight desk, Mitch stood at the end of the short line and remembered he’d wanted to call Colt Mich
aels before he left. Over the last eight months, he’d developed a strong bond with both Colt and his husband, Jace Montgomery.

  Civilian friends were new to Mitch. He’d met both of them through his father. Colt had been the quarterback for the New York Panthers, a professional football team where his pop held the position of team doctor. Colt was a special case for his dad, drawing Mitch into their world when Colt had been injured in a suspicious accident. The conclusion everyone came to after an intensive investigation was that Jace, and not Colt, had been the target of what looked like a botched hit.

  The bottom line, whoever this person or persons might be who had run the car off the road, they hadn’t wanted Jace to walk away from that accident. For Mitch, that had only been the beginning as he linked several other victims throughout the US to the same type of crimes—mysterious incidents that appeared to be accidents at first glance. Most of them hadn’t been as lucky as Colt.

  Mitch hit the ramp to the airplane and dialed Colt’s cell phone number. Jace answered on the second ring and Mitch grinned. He regularly messed with Colt, flirting shamelessly with Jace since the beginning. So much so, that he purposefully called Colt first. The guy got very protective where Jace was concerned.

  “Hey, bud, I’m coming to Dallas,” Mitch said.

  “Does that mean you have a new lead on the case? Have you found out who did it?” Jace asked with hope in his voice, which was pretty much how Jace always sounded. It had to be the inner cheerleader in the guy. Mitch hated that he couldn’t give him the answer he wanted. He’d like nothing more than to tell both Jace and Colt their culprit had been apprehended.

  “We’re closer,” Mitch said, and those words cost him for the lie they were. He had never shared with anyone that the federal government hadn’t taken an interest in their case or the others linked with the same MO.

  Jace’s returning silence spoke volumes. He boarded the flight, nodding at the flight attendant who mouthed a giant hello. That was the great thing about working out of a small field office—he got to personally know everyone inside the airport as well as all the flight staff. He lifted a hand to her, felt the pilot pat his back, but he kept the conversation going as he negotiated himself and his bags down the small aisle.