Ominous Legacy (Counterstrike Book 4)

by Jannine Gallant

  “Here comes the next set.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back. “You might want to sit up and get ready before the waves hit.”

  “Or simply float back to shore and hang out on the beach with Bree and her friend. You can master the ocean without me.”

  “You’re sure you don’t want to try again?”

  “Maybe later. You go ahead and have fun.”

  He nodded and paddled toward the oncoming wave. Efficiently rising to his feet, he rode the swell with a few fancy maneuvers before dropping over the backside. After swiping a hand across his wet face, he climbed back on the board.

  “You looked like a pro.” She raised her voice to be heard over the rush of the surf.

  “I’ve had years of experience. I won’t stay out too much longer.”

  “Take your time.” She let the surge from the next wave push her toward shore. Not in any hurry, she floated with the sun beating down on her. After a while, she rolled off the board with a splash and dunked beneath the surface to smooth back her hair.

  Something whizzed past her at warp speed. Before she had time to think, let alone react, a second projectile sliced through the water with a sickening zip, closer than the first. Panic threatened as she dived beneath the board and gripped it with her fingers to hold herself in place. When she couldn’t hold her breath any longer, she cautiously lifted her head just enough to draw air into her burning lungs and searched behind her for Wyatt. He was up on his board, riding the tail end of a wave. When he dropped back into the water, she sighed in relief.

  Staying low, sheltered behind her fiberglass shield, she studied the beach where dozens of people were stretched out on towels, sitting in chairs beneath umbrellas, or walking along the damp sand. A few kids played in the breakers, and the sound of their happy laughter drifted on the breeze. No one was running or panicking. No gunshots echoed.

  Movement up on the bluff above the beach caught her attention. She squinted against the sun as a man rose from a prone position in the waving seagrass and walked back toward the highway. At least she thought it was a man, based on his size. At this distance, she couldn’t distinguish his features. He carried a long, flat case, probably containing a rifle with a silencer. For several minutes after he disappeared from sight, she stayed where she was, getting her erratic breathing under control. Calming her nerves.

  Finally, she heaved herself onto the board and paddled toward shore. Once she could stand, she staggered the last few yards through the water to the beach. Her legs trembled as she carried the board toward the spot where they’d left their stuff, feeling naked and vulnerable on the open stretch of sand.

  Bree propped herself on one elbow and waved. “How was it?” Wyatt’s daughter lounged on a towel beside her friend, Petra, a cute blond girl who barely looked up before going back to her phone. “I saw you crash on that last wave. Major wipeout.”

  “We need to go, Bree.” Talia shrugged on a wrap over her suit and stuck her feet through her flipflops. “Gather up your stuff. Now.”

  Her eyes widened, but she made no effort to move. “What’s wrong? You look kind of funny. Did you hurt yourself when you crashed out there?”

  “No, but we have to leave.”

  “Dad’s still surfing.” She pointed. “He just caught another wave.”

  “I’ll text him. He’ll check his phone after he paddles in.” Talia knelt in the sand to search through Wyatt’s bag for his keys, leaving his phone and towel where they were.

  Petra frowned. “If you have to take off, it’s no big deal. I can give Bree a ride home since I drove here.”

  Talia glanced toward the bluff. No one stood near the edge of the cliff, but she wasn’t taking any chances. “Your dad would want you to come with me. There’s a . . . situation.”

  “Oh, my God. Did something happen? Is this about that stupid spoon?” Bree scrambled to her feet. “I heard him talking to someone on the phone this morning, and he mentioned a shooting.”

  “A film shoot, not a shooting. Look, I don’t have time to explain.” She frowned at the other girl. “Are you coming, Petra? I think it’s best if we all leave.”

  “No, I’m good staying here.” She rolled her eyes at her friend. “I’ll tell your dad you took off.”

  Bree scooped up her towel and draped it over one shoulder. “I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

  Talia gave the stubborn teen a final glance and decided the shooter had no reason to target her. After laying the surfboard on the sand, she headed toward the parking lot at a fast clip, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of the sniper. By the time they reached Wyatt’s Thunderbird, her nerves were strung tight. The second she and Bree got into the car, she started the engine and raised the top.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Pulling out her phone, she typed quickly. Sniper shot at me. Get off the beach. After hitting send, she glanced over at Bree. Her eyes, the same blue as her father’s, held a hint of fear.

  “Someone doesn’t want the show about those spoons to be filmed.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Her voice rose. “Is Dad in danger?”

  “He’ll be fine, but I know he’d want me to take you someplace safe.” She shifted into gear and turned out onto the road as soon as there was a break in traffic. “Since your dad and I are leaving for Sonoma tomorrow, anyway, I think you should go back to your mom’s house now. I’ll drop you off there.”

  “Wait! Hold on.” Bree raised her hands and frowned. “Stella is at Dad’s. I don’t see why—”

  “We’ll bring your dog over later.”

  “You’re scaring me. What happened on the beach?”

  “I don’t want you to worry because I’m going to take care of the problem. My mistake was in thinking we had a little more time before this escalated.” She clamped her lips together as she changed lanes to make a turn. She was beyond pissed at herself for not anticipating their adversaries would come after them before they left for Sonoma. Which meant she and Wyatt needed to get off this particular lunatic’s radar immediately.

  “Are you a cop or a government agent or something?” The expression in Bree’s eyes was a combination of admiration, respect, and fear.

  “Sort of. I can take care of myself, and nothing is going to happen to your dad. It’ll be better, though, if you’re staying with your mom until this is over. Uh, am I going the right direction? Your dad mentioned your mom lives in Beverly Hills, but he didn’t say where.”

  “Make a left at the second light after this one.”

  She followed Bree’s directions and waited while the girl punched in the code at the gate. Once the imposing barrier swung open, she drove through and followed the long, palm tree lined driveway before pulling up in front of the house. Constructed in the mission style with off-white adobe walls and a red tile roof, the home sprawled across the small rise, resembling a fortress.

  “Impressive.”

  “I actually like Dad’s cozy little house better. Except for the pool. This place has an awesome pool.” Bree opened the door and stepped out onto the paving stones. “Do you want to come in?”

  “I need to go pick up your dad.” Her phone had been vibrating in her pocket like an angry bee for the last thirty seconds. “I’m sure he’s out of the water by now and will be waiting for me.”

  She nodded. “Okay, but don’t forget to bring Stella over. Oh, and my backpack. I need that.”

  “We won’t. I’ll see you later, Bree.”

  As soon as the girl shut the door and stepped away from the car, Talia circled around and headed back toward the gate. She stopped before she got to the end of the driveway and texted Wyatt. Bree is fine. At her mom’s now. On my way.

  Her phone vibrated a few seconds later. Petra is taking me home. Meet me there.

  She tapped a quick response. Okay.

  After dropping her phone on the passenger seat, she pulled forward, and the gate swung open. She drove through, waited while it closed behind
her, then headed back toward Santa Monica. Wyatt was standing on the front porch when she turned into his driveway.

  She’d barely stepped out of the car when he reached her side and gripped both her arms. “What the hell happened?”

  “A sniper was up on the bluff. He shot at me while I was still in the water. Thankfully, he missed.”

  Wyatt took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Son of a bitch!”

  “Once I was pretty certain he was gone, I got out of the water, hustled Bree off the beach, and took her to her mom’s house.”

  He gave her an incredulous look. “Yet you left Petra as a sitting duck?”

  “She refused to come, and I didn’t have time to argue. I felt she was perfectly safe since the guy was after me, not a random girl on the beach. I wasn’t so sure about Bree, though. She’s safer with her mom.”

  He took her elbow and practically dragged her toward the porch. “Because this psycho freak might try to use her to get to me?”

  “It’s possible. We need to get the hell out of here. Someone must have been watching the house and followed us to the beach. I don’t want to risk him coming back and taking potshots at us through the windows.”

  “Agreed.” He took the keys from her and unlocked the door.

  “Haven’t you been inside yet?”

  “I just got here and stashed the surfboards in the shed before you pulled up.” He pushed open the door and swore. “Are you kidding me!”

  The living room was a mess. Cushions tossed and books knocked off the shelves. Wyatt ran into the dining room and let loose another string of curses. The cardboard boxes containing the journals belonging to his great-uncle had been emptied onto the floor.

  “If there’s damage to those diaries—” He broke off and hurried over to the table to carefully open a big, crumbling Bible. “At least he didn’t throw this on the floor. Maybe your shooter has some respect for history.”

  Talia walked into the kitchen. “He doesn’t have any respect for flatware or utensils. He emptied all your drawers, but that’s the only thing in here he touched.” She frowned. “We’re assuming the shooter on the beach was the person who searched your home.”

  “I don’t know who else would have done it. Thank God my spoon and the document signed by the founding fathers is in my safe.” His eyes widened. “You don’t suppose . . .” He ran out of the room and down the hall to the office.

  She followed and paused in the doorway. This room was an even bigger disaster with papers strewn everywhere and more displaced books.

  “You own a lot of books.”

  “What?” He knelt by the small safe, which was bolted to the floor in the corner, and spun the dial. “It doesn’t look like he was able to break into it.”

  “Let’s hope not.”

  When something rustled behind her, Talia spun around. Pressing a hand to her chest, she let out a breath. Stella flattened against the floor and whined.

  “You poor baby.” Cautiously, she approached the quivering dog and scooped her up. “Were you hiding in one of the bedrooms?”

  When the lock on the safe clicked, Wyatt glanced over his shoulder. “I forgot all about her. Is she okay?”

  “Just scared. She’s shaking.” Talia cuddled the quivering bundle of fur closer.

  He let out a long breath. “Everything’s here, including my gun.”

  “I’m going to want that. Going to the beach unarmed was a mistake, but I could hardly take it surfing with me.” She narrowed her eyes as he set the holstered Glock 9MM on top of the desk. “I’m thankful you own a weapon, since the damn police confiscated mine at Bedford House. I don’t feel safe being unarmed.”

  He dropped onto the desk chair. “I can’t believe this. Shouldn’t we call the police?”

  “That would be the logical next step. Is anything missing?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” He got up again and stepped around her to check the two bedrooms. “Nothing is touched in Bree’s room. Mine doesn’t look too bad, either, but he did dump all your clothes out of your suitcase.”

  “He was probably in a rush to finish and had already seen the safe by the time he got to the bedrooms. My guess is he knew he wasn’t going to find either of our spoons or the document, if that’s what he was after, and didn’t bother to search thoroughly at this end of the house.”

  Wyatt snorted. “Thank God for small favors.”

  She stroked Stella’s back as the dog stopped shivering and snuggled against her. “I don’t see how he had time to search the house and still get to the beach by roughly noon, which was when he shot at me. He certainly didn’t have time to do it afterward.”

  “So, you believe a second person was here at the house? One guy followed us while the other searched?”

  “Possibly. I don’t want to speculate without more facts. If you want to call the police—”

  His brows shot up. “You don’t?”

  “I doubt they would turn up anything. No prints were left at my apartment, since even your average thief knows enough to wear gloves.” She turned to study the trashed office. “I’m pretty sure these guys aren’t amateurs, and since nothing was stolen, it would just waste a lot of our time talking to the cops.”

  “Fine. What do you want to do then?”

  “Get out of town. I’m not crazy about hanging around here, waiting to get ambushed again.”

  “We were going to drive to Sonoma tomorrow, anyway. Leaving early makes sense.” He waved a hand. “What do we do about this mess?”

  “Clean it up when we get back.” She nudged him toward the bedroom. “Go pack a bag. We’ll drop off Stella and hit the road.”

  He walked over to his dresser, opened the top drawer, and then turned to stare at her. “Shouldn’t we call off the film shoot? I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “It’s the only place we can be confident this guy will show up. Otherwise, we have to hide out indefinitely.” When the dog squirmed in her arms, she set her on the floor and bent to scoop up her scattered clothes. “I want to get some answers, but maybe we can’t handle this on our own. I’ll call Wolf and ask for backup.”

  Wyatt nodded. “Probably a good idea.”

  “I’m used to working with a team, and I was already thinking we would need someone to set up on the perimeter of the vineyard, just in case this asshole slips through.”

  “Slips through what?” Wyatt tossed socks and boxers out of the drawer onto the bed. “Do you have a plan I don’t know about?”

  “It’s the reason I wanted to head north a day early. Anyone hoping to take me out at the interview will need to do some advance scouting to determine the best location to shoot from. I imagine he’ll use darkness to his advantage and not roam through the property during the day. If I’m out there waiting, I can take him down before we start filming.”

  “And what am I going to be doing during this nighttime excursion of yours?”

  Something in his tone made her pause to study him. His lips were drawn into a tight line, and his hands were clenched on his hips.

  “I don’t want you to get hurt, and you aren’t trained to deal with a situation like this.”

  “You think I’m worthless.”

  “No.” She did her best to speak calmly. “We each have our own unique skill sets.”

  He turned away from her. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” His voice dripped sarcasm. “By all means, get your buddies out here to help you since I obviously can’t.”

  “You just said you thought it was a good idea.”

  “I’m frustrated, okay.” He stalked to the closet and pulled out a few shirts before throwing them onto the bed. “I don’t like feeling helpless. I’m angry I dragged you into a dangerous situation. And, yes, I’m not used to being thrust into a supporting role.” He added jeans, shorts, and a pair of slacks to the pile.

  With an effort, she bit back words about his ego getting in their way. “Do you want me to not call Wolf?”

&
nbsp; “No, call him.” He dragged a suitcase from the closet and unzipped it with an angry swipe. “It’s the smart move. I’ll do what I’m told and stay out of the way.”

  Rising to her feet, she walked over to touch his tense forearm. “You aren’t useless. You’re smart and resourceful. I intend to utilize your assets to our advantage.”

  He gave an abrupt nod and pulled away. “Okay. Let’s get going. Are you ready?”

  “I just need to change.” She finished repacking her bag, leaving out shorts and a T-shirt. “Don’t forget Bree’s backpack. We can drop it and Stella off first.”

  “What about my spoon and the document? Do we leave them here or bring them with us?”

  She considered his question. “Do you have a safe deposit box at a local bank?”

  He nodded. “I haven’t used it in years, but I have one, and the good news is my bank is open on Saturdays.”

  “We’ll take them to the bank, then, just to be on the safe side. One more stop to make. I’m thankful my spoon is still at Counterstrike headquarters.”

  “At least I won’t be worried those bastards will get to that document if they come back here with a stick of dynamite or a professional safe cracker.”

  “Exactly.” She gave him a half smile. “See, you’re thinking smart. Let me put on some clothes, and we’ll take off before the shooter has a chance to regroup.”

  An hour later, they drove north on I5 with the ragtop on the Thunderbird down, and the afternoon sun shining brightly. Neither of them had much to say, and talking wasn’t easy with the wind blowing her hair around her face while the radio blasted classic rock. Talia figured Wyatt wanted it that way. He’d been even moodier after spending a few minutes with his daughter and having a conversation with his ex-wife, and she didn’t blame him. He hadn’t gotten twenty-four hours with Bree since returning from the East Coast, and her heart ached for him.

  When her phone vibrated, she pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. “Wolf calling me back.”

  He turned down the music as she swiped to connect and put it on speaker.