Undercover Refuge

by Melinda Di Lorenzo

  “It’s windy, too,” she said. “And don’t look at my shoes like that. I’ve had these bad boys for four years, and they’ve hiked some pretty wet and treacherous bits of the coast.”

  “You hike the coast in—you know what? Never mind. I believe it. And that’s all fine and good, but the nearest place to go is...” He trailed off, his mind churning.

  “Is what?” Alessandra prodded.

  “I’ve got another idea.”

  “Care to share?”

  “How about I share while we move?” he said.

  She shrugged and held out her hand, which he gladly took, and they made their way to the trees, where the overhead branches actually provided some cover from the rain and some protection from the wind. They were only a few steps in, though, when Rush’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He dragged it out reluctantly, a hunch telling him who it would be. Sure enough, Garibaldi’s name flashed across the screen. He signaled for Alessandra to be quiet, then slammed his finger to the answer key.

  “Tell me why I should even be talking to you,” he snarled into the phone.

  “Atkinson?” Garibaldi sounded puzzled.

  “Who the hell else would it be?” Rush retorted. “Expecting your sniper to answer, maybe?”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “Six feet tall, bushy gray beard, and oh...a long-range rifle. Sound familiar?”

  There was a pause. “Back it up, Atkinson, and tell me exactly what you mean.”

  Garibaldi’s voice was cool and demanding, but underneath that was a layer of genuine worry. Rush cast a glance toward Alessandra, wondering how much she could hear, and whether she was thinking the same thing he was—that maybe Garibaldi hadn’t sent the armed man.

  He infused a little more disbelief into his reply. “Do you seriously expect me to believe that someone other than you has guys out here who have a specific interest in shooting at our favorite redhead?”

  Another pause. “This guy shot Alessandra?”

  Rush realized immediately that Garibaldi had misunderstood. It was the perfect opportunity. The perfect chance to bring his ruse to life.

  “Damn right, he did,” Rush said irritably. “Kind of rendered me prematurely useless.”

  “So Alessandra is...”

  “No longer an issue.”

  He heard Alessandra’s sharp inhale, and even in the rain, he could see her face pale a little. He shook his head in a silent apology.

  “Where’s this guy now?” Garibaldi asked.

  “How should I know? I’m busy cleaning up his mess.”

  “Cleaning his—nah, never mind. I don’t wanna know.”

  “He really wasn’t your man?” Rush asked.

  “If he was my man, he wouldn’t have left you alive,” Garibaldi replied evenly. “But I’d sure as hell like to know who he is.”

  “Then I guess that makes two of us.”

  “Put it on your list, Atkinson. Right after you clean up. And don’t forget to check in.”

  “On it, boss.”

  He clicked the phone off, shoved it hard into his pocket, then dragged Alessandra in for a deep, rough kiss.

  Chapter 13

  By the time Rush let her go, Alessandra was breathless. Achy. Needy. The fact that Rush just left Jesse with the impression that he was off burying her body somewhere in the woods was irrelevant. The fact that they actually were in the woods, and that the rain was coming down harder, meant nothing. Less than nothing. The only important thing was how Rush was staring down at her, his eyes full of undisguised want.

  Well, said a voice in her head. That. And a few other things.

  Like the way his body molded to hers. Or how his lips came down to ghost over hers once more, gently this time. And how his hands squeezed her back, possessive and safe and strong. The rumble of his voice—a little raw and a lot sexy—mattered, too, even if his words didn’t make much sense to her.

  “I’m so sorry, Red,” he said heavily.

  Alessandra pulled back a little so she could think enough to form a coherent response. “You’re sorry?”

  “It made me feel sick to my stomach to say all of that to Garibaldi.”

  “You barely said anything.”

  “It was enough.” He sighed and released her, a strangely pained look on his face. “I’m not a callous jerk, Red, but I can literally count on one hand the number of people who matter to me enough to make me think twice about something like this. Brayden, Harley and Anderson. And my mom, even though it’s been years since we’ve been in contact. But somehow, in the last twenty-four hours, you’ve managed to get added to that list. So the thought of something like any of that happening to you...” He shrugged a little helplessly.

  In spite of the cold, Alessandra was suddenly warm all over. She felt a ridiculous smile form on her face, and she wondered if the stress of it all was sending her into the deep end. She certainly felt more than a little crazy at the moment. But she didn’t let it stop her from impulsively stepping forward to fling her arms over Rush’s shoulders so she could initiate her own over-the-top kiss. And she made sure he was breathless this time, before pulling away.

  “There,” she said, satisfied.

  “There what?” he replied with a half-amused, half-puzzled smile.

  “Now you know I feel the same way.” She paused. “Well. Not quite the same way. My list of people I care about is long. I’m even overly fond of the kid who bags my groceries, and I hand-make my neighbors’ Christmas gifts every year.”

  Rush lifted an eyebrow. “So...you’re adding me to an already-full list?”

  A blush crept up her cheeks. “I’m putting you unreasonably near the top.”

  “Tell me something, then.”

  “What?”

  “Who’s above me? I need to know what the competition is like.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Shouldn’t we start walking? Weren’t you worried about the dark and stormy factor?”

  “I think you’re avoiding the question,” he said, but he slid his hand to hers and started through the woods again anyway.

  Alessandra expected him to push the topic a little more, but he was quiet as they moved through the trees. And she was thankful. She needed a few minutes to collect her thoughts. And to address the staccato beat of her heart every time she replayed Rush-related events of the last day. But trying to reason through it did no good. No matter how she came at it, she kept coming back to the same conclusion. The more moments she spent with Rush, the more she liked him. The more she thought he might be—should be—a longer-term part of her life. And weirdly, the rapid conclusion didn’t scare her. Maybe because there was so much other, truly frightening stuff happening. Things that put her feelings in perspective. Life was short. Precarious, even. Particularly right then.

  She stole a look at Rush from the corner of her eye. Even the sneaked glance made her pulse thrum and her chest compress pleasantly. What was it about the man that stole her breath so thoroughly? The intense physical attraction was a given. Every time he touched her, she lit up. His tattoos, his beard and his compactly muscular body made her mouth dry. And that wasn’t even factoring in how it felt to have him in bed with her. But even when things were short-term, as they tended to be for Alessandra, she typically chose men who played it safe. And Rush had said himself that wasn’t what defined him. Normally, it was the kind of thing that made her worry. Or at least take a step back. But right then, all she wanted was to dive in. She liked Rush’s touch of gruffness. She like his dogged determination to pursue his father’s killer, and she liked the passion he exuded in everything he did. In fact, so far, she’d liked everything about him. And that wasn’t even factoring in the strange spark of rightness she felt when she thought about him.

  As her mind turned it all over in h
er head, a sudden memory—one she hadn’t recalled in a good decade or more—sprang to the forefront of her thoughts. She’d been about six, and playing with the Barbies her mom had always grumbled about. “Unrealistic expectations of the female form” was one of the favored descriptions. But she’d let have Alessandra have them anyway. And a Ken doll, too. Which inevitably meant a romance would come to life. On this particular day, Alessandra had created a destination wedding. Oceanside in the form of a bathtub. She’d been a little lost in play when a sudden thought occurred to her.

  “Mommy, how did Barbie know?” she asked.

  “How did she know what, Love-bug?” her mom replied.

  “That she wanted to marry Ken?”

  “Oh. I imagine it was the perfect plastic hair that cinched the deal.”

  The facetious statement went over Alessandra’s head, and she was already moving on anyway. “Is it the same way you knew with Daddy?”

  Her mom had laughed. “Minus the plastic hair...yes. I knew the second I laid eyes on your dad that I was going to marry him. Took him about a month to catch up, though.”

  Alessandra had looked up from the dolls and the bath time suds, another question on her lips. But when she saw her mom’s face she’d closed her mouth instead, and the chatting moved on.

  She’s seen something in her mom’s expression all those years ago—something happy and dreamy—that she’d sensed was grown-up and private. Much later, she’d figured out that it was love that inspired the look. And not just any kind of love. The head-over-heels, meant-to-be-together, once-in-a-lifetime kind.

  Alessandra herself had never felt that pull. She’d liked a few men. A couple of them she’d even say she’d liked a lot. But never enough to call it love. Never enough to think it might become love.

  And thinking about it now is just plain crazy, she told herself in a stern voice.

  But once again, reason didn’t seem to matter. And right then, that look on her mom’s face hovered there, so close that Alessandra wished she had a mirror so she could check her own face. She was almost certain of what she’d find. And maybe being so sure should’ve made some nervousness creep in. Maybe it would have, if she hadn’t abruptly noticed that both the terrain and the weather had changed. And so had their trajectory. The trees had grown thinner, the ground was more even, and the rain had tapered off to nothing. But most importantly, they seemed to be descending instead of ascending now.

  “Are we moving down the mountain?” Alessandra asked in surprise.

  Rush nodded. “This is an ATV trail. They’re all over the mountainside.”

  “And I take it you know where this one leads?”

  “I’ve spent some time out here. I can only stand Garibaldi’s company for so long before I need to escape.” He turned her way and smiled.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Now who’s avoiding a question?”

  “All right. I admit it. But it’s only because I don’t think you’re going to be too crazy about where we’re headed.”

  “You might as well just tell me.”

  “Garibaldi has these cabins,” he said. “They’re old. Original to the town. Used to be lodging for the temporary, seasonal logging staff. At the moment, they’re empty.”

  “Okay,” Alessandra replied. “Why are you worried I won’t like the idea? Are they haunted? Overrun by rats? Full of holes and mold and lions and tigers and bears, oh my?”

  He laughed. “No. They’re nicely done up. Rustic, but clean. Especially the main cabin. Bigger and with more amenities than the one we just left.”

  “So...”

  “Didn’t you hear me say who owns them?”

  “Yes.” She paused in her walking, and when Rush swung to face her, she took a hold of both his wrists and lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. “I heard you say that they belong to Garibaldi. But would you take me somewhere unsafe?”

  “No,” he replied, “I sure as hell wouldn’t.”

  “I trust you. If you think being under Jesse’s nose is the right place to be, then it’s the right place to be.”

  A smile tipped up one corner of his mouth. “Under his nose. That’s funny. Those are the exact words my partners used.”

  “Oh, so this isn’t your genius idea?” she teased as they resumed their walk.

  “Might’ve stolen a play out of the other guys’ books.”

  Alessandra wondered if Rush knew how he softened when he talked about his friends. If he was aware of how his eyes crinkled in the corners, or how his mouth stayed in a slight curve.

  Add that to the list of things I like about him, she thought, while aloud she said, “Tell me more about them.”

  “You want to hear about my friends?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, then. But be warned. They’re a bunch of goody-goodies.”

  “I’m prepared.”

  Rush grinned, then launched into a description of each of the other men.

  Brayden was, as he’d said previously, their fearless leader. A take-charge, do-it-right kinda guy. He’d kept them on track over the years, pursuing Jesse unwaveringly. He’d led the way into Whispering Woods, too, uncovering the first clues as to what the man who killed their fathers was up to.

  He called Anderson “Mr. Nice Guy,” and said that his friend was almost too patient and kind. He laughingly explained how he’d always believed that in another life, Anderson would’ve become a school counselor. He wondered aloud if the other man would stay with the police force when the case wrapped up.

  Harley, he told her, was the baby. Who, in spite of his burly appearance, had a sensitive side, which he put to good use in his sculpting and painting. He was also talented in the tech department, and his skills had proved invaluable over the course of their investigation.

  “So what about you, then?” Alessandra asked when he was done talking.

  “Me?”

  “Brayden is in charge, Anderson is there to placate the masses, and Harley fixes things from behind the screen. What’s your hidden talent?”

  “Don’t know about a hidden talent, per se, but I think—and don’t laugh—I’m the street cred. Going undercover was my idea. Infiltrating Garibaldi’s merry band of thugs was all me. Hell. I didn’t even tell the other guys that I was doing it. They caught me in the act.” He chuckled. “Poor Harley. Probably scared the crap out of him when I showed up.”

  Alessandra hesitated. “Can you tell me about the case?”

  She expected him to immediately say no, but after a second, he nodded instead. “Those foolish friends of mine told their girlfriends, so I don’t see why the hell not.”

  Alessandra’s heart skipped a beat. Had he heard himself use the word girlfriend? Was it a significant slip? She wanted it to be. But if Rush had noticed, he didn’t comment. He just went on, telling her a little more about what they’d accomplished so far.

  Brayden had come into town first, figuring out pretty quickly that Jesse’s business was a front for something else. With the help of Reggie Frost, a local woman whose family owned The Frost Family Diner, he’d uncovered a secret basement under the businesses on Main Street. When Brayden and Reggie couldn’t do any more without being caught, Anderson stepped in. Under the guise of protecting Whispering Woods’ third-grade teacher, Nadine Stuart, he discovered that the secret room was used in some kind of art scam. Which, of course, brought their very own art expert—Harley—to town. The art scam was tied to a shop owner named Liz, who turned out to know nothing about what was happening in her store.

  “What was happening?” Alessandra asked.

  “Opiates.” Rush’s voice was grim. “Hidden in the paint of some pieces Garibaldi had in Liz’s Lovely Things.”

  “And you couldn’t bust him for any of that?”

  “You mean murder, mayhem, arson and a dozen other misdemeanors and or felonies? Nope. Not the wa
y we need to. The man’s a genius at passing the buck, and we need to make a hundred percent sure that he’s going to be the one put behind bars. And at the moment, every guy working under him is sharing rumors about a big buy of some kind. My personal opinion is that it’s a liquidation. Cutting out of Whispering Woods and going underground. Which is why I need to catch him. Red-handed, as they say.”

  Abruptly, Rush stopped talking, and his arm came out to stop Alessandra from moving forward any farther, and his voice dropped lower. “Look through the trees up there on the left.”

  Alessandra squinted. She could just see the outline of a building of some kind.

  “That’s a storage shed,” he told her. “What I want to do is take you up behind it and have you wait there while I make sure Garibaldi hasn’t decided to start using this place. Have you still got that revolver?”

  She lifted her purse. “In here.”

  “Okay. Let’s make a trade. My gun’s a little easier to fire.”

  Worry rushed in as he slid open his coat, reached for his weapon, then held it out to her.

  “Do you think I’m going to need it?” Alessandra asked as her fingers closed on the warm metal.

  “I hope to God not,” he replied as he put out his hand expectantly. “But I’ll feel better if I know you’ve got the means to protect yourself.”

  She shoved the old gun into his palm. “If the stupid revolver jams and you die as a result, I’ll be really mad.”

  Her attempt at bravery-inducing humor only lasted as long as it took Rush to tuck the weapon awkwardly into the wrongly sized holster. Because Alessandra realized something. If something happened to the man beside her, she wouldn’t be mad. She’d be devastated.

  * * *

  As soon as they reached the shed, Rush gave Alessandra a quick kiss, then took off. Leaving her made him grit his teeth, but he knew if he lingered, it’d be even harder for him to do what needed to be done. He had to trust that she’d be safe, and also to trust that if something did go wrong on her side, she’d be able to protect herself. Or if something went wrong on Rush’s side, she’d make the right decision and stay away. Run like hell, maybe.