Ominous Legacy (Counterstrike Book 4)

by Jannine Gallant

  “Can’t be helped. The last thing I want is to put her in danger, so she’s better off staying with her mom until this is over.”

  “Soon, Wyatt. If we can get the drop on the shooter and he talks, we’ll be able to cut off the head of the beast instead of simply slowing it down.”

  “And if the shooter doesn’t show up before the interview, then what?”

  “Oh, he’ll show. Either the man from the beach or some other hired gun.” Her tone was grim. “Each of the potential informants knows exactly where we are right now. You can bet whoever is behind these attacks will take advantage of that knowledge. We just have to be prepared. And smarter than they are.”

  “I hope you’re right. I hope we can finish this before someone else ends up hurt—or dead.”

  * * * *

  It was still dark when Talia slid out of bed early the next morning. Wyatt didn’t stir, and she moved stealthily about the room, finding running clothes in her bag and taking them to the bathroom to dress. If he woke, he’d want to go with her, and she needed some alone time. She’d barely slept the night before, staring up at the ceiling long after he breathed evenly beside her. Her mind was an unending jumble of confused thoughts and emotions.

  Running would help clear her head. At least she hoped it would. Wyatt had brought up a lot of points the previous evening she’d been doing her best to ignore. Because she was falling in love with him and didn’t want to believe their relationship was doomed to fail.

  She stuck one of the key cards in the pocket of her black running tights and quietly shut the door behind her. Fog hung low in the trees around the lodge, but it was just light enough to see where she was going as she headed out to the access road. Shivering, she picked up her pace, running beside the acres of grapes that made up the Rousseau vineyard. Thinking of her mom, who’d grown up here, who’d fallen for a man who was nothing like her. A man who’d given her both joy and heartache and left her alone with a daughter to raise.

  In a way, her situation with Wyatt was similar, but she was the one who regularly courted danger. She was the one who tempted fate and risked her life. Her father had been a man trying to escape a violent upbringing, and in the end, it had claimed his life. On the other hand, she deliberately sought danger, hoping to make a difference, knowing there was always a risk her choices would catch up with her.

  Wyatt had every reason in the world to be wary.

  Her lungs burned as she ran faster, trying to outpace her thoughts. He resented her need to protect him, but she’d seen enough to know life or death could hinge on split second decisions. Her training gave her an advantage. His lack of experience could very well get him killed. And she wouldn’t let that happen.

  She sprinted through rows of grapes where leaves damp with mist brushed against her bare arms. Bursting out onto another secondary road, she turned back toward the lodge with no clear decisions made. Wyatt was as much a part of the current situation as she was, and until they discovered who had made them targets, neither one of them would be safe. Which meant ending this nightmare had to be her sole focus. Afterward, she could worry about their future . . . together or apart.

  Headlights blinded her, approaching fast as she ran through the grass along the verge of the road. When the car swerved across the asphalt in front of her and screeched to a stop, she barely avoided slamming into the front bumper. Her hands came down hard on the hood as a door opened. Still blinded by the glare when a shadow loomed in front of her, she spun around and kicked out, connecting with hard muscle.

  Her assailant grunted and gripped her wrist to slam her onto the ground. Gasping for breath, she rolled hard to her right as a knife slashed downward to embed in the turf. Before he could yank it out, she swung the heel of her palm upward and connected with his nose. Blood spurted, raining droplets down on her face as he let out a howl.

  Jerking out of his grip, she scrambled to her feet as running footsteps approached. A figure burst around the side of the car and tackled the bleeding man. The sickening sound of fists pummeling flesh, along with grunts and curses ensued. Shading her eyes against the bright headlights, she snatched up the knife and squinted at the two men.

  “Wyatt? Stop! Don’t kill him.” She grabbed his arm with her free hand when he brought his fist up again. “Stop. He’s out cold.”

  After a moment, he pushed up from the ground and prodded the still figure with his foot. “Bastard! Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Talia let out a shuddering breath. “Thanks for the backup.”

  “What the hell were you thinking, running on your own?” His voice rose. “Were you actually looking for trouble?”

  “I wasn’t expecting some asshole to drive by and attack me, that’s for sure. Let’s dump him in the backseat of the car and take him back to our room. Once he comes to, I can get a few answers out of him.” She flashed a satisfied smile. “Finally, we catch a break!”

  “Christ. You sound happy he attacked you.”

  “I wasn’t too thrilled while he was slamming me on the ground and trying to stab me, but I’m pretty pleased with how this turned out. You saved my ass.”

  “I’m sure you would have managed just fine if I hadn’t intervened.” He bent and hefted the unconscious man over his shoulder.

  She hurried to open the rear door of the sedan and stepped back as he dropped her attacker onto the seat. Maybe she could have taken down the creep on her own, but she was pretty sure he would have inflicted a lot of damage in the process.

  “You showed up when I needed you, and I’m grateful.”

  Dawn was breaking as she slid onto the passenger seat. The sky to the east lit up in shades of pink and orange, creating beauty out of darkness. Wyatt got in on the driver’s side, swung the vehicle back onto the road, and headed toward the inn.

  “How’d you find me?”

  “I woke up and discovered you’d disappeared, so I went out for a run, hoping to find you. I guess we both got lucky.”

  “Sorry. I should have told you I was leaving.” She glanced over her shoulder when the man in the backseat moaned. “I had a lot of thinking to do.”

  He turned into the driveway of the lodge and drove around to the back, getting as close as he could to their cottage. “We can talk about that later.” He shifted into park and pointed. “There’s GQ. Maybe he can give us a hand.”

  Talia opened the car door, stepped out, and waved. “We could use some help.”

  He hurried toward them. “Who’s car?”

  “The asshole who attacked me while I was running this morning. The dude is coming to. Let’s get him into our unit before Wyatt has to knock him on the head again.”

  After she opened the rear door, GQ dragged the man out and slung him over his shoulder.

  Wyatt leaned toward her. “I’ll go park his car somewhere out of sight until we make a few decisions.”

  “Good idea. See you in a few minutes.” She shut the door and stepped back as he pulled away. Turning, she hurried after GQ and unlocked the cabin door.

  He carried his burden inside and dropped the man on the floor with a thud. His face was covered in blood that had run down his neck and stained the front of his gray T-shirt. His eyes rolled back to show the whites as his head connected with the wood floor.

  GQ searched him for weapons before straightening to give her a slow perusal. “He’s clean. No ID on him. Did he hurt you, Luna?”

  “Just a few bruises. He tried to stab me but missed. Then Wyatt showed up and beat the crap out of him.”

  “Good for Wyatt. What do you want to do with him?”

  “Tie him up and question him once he’s coherent. I want to find out who he works for.”

  “I have handcuffs in my bag. I’ll be right back.”

  Talia walked over to the table where she’d left her phone, turned it on, and snapped a couple of pictures of the man on the floor. She’d loaded the images into her computer and initiated a facial recognition search when GQ returned.
By the time he shackled the man’s wrists behind him and lashed him to the bedpost with a strap, he was regaining consciousness.

  “Time to get some answers.” She glanced over her shoulder when the door opened.

  Wyatt shut it behind him and shoved his hands into his pockets. “How’re you going to make him talk?”

  “I can be fairly persuasive without waterboarding.” She narrowed her eyes as their captive glared at her. “But I’m not ruling anything out.” When her computer dinged, she turned away. “Bingo. We may not need to torture this jerk.”

  “You got a hit?” GQ bent to study the screen over her shoulder. “Ringo Stillman. Most recently, he’s wanted for questioning in the murder of an Oakland city council member, and he has ties to an organized crime syndicate active up and down the West Coast. Basically, a thug for hire.”

  Talia faced the man shackled to the bedpost. “Okay, Ringo, who paid you to take me out? If you co-operate, maybe you can work a deal with the prosecutor to reduce your sentence.”

  “I’ll take my chances in court.” His bloody lips cracked in a smile. “I have friends I can count on.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Not if we leak word that you sang like a . . . Beatle . . . when we questioned you.”

  Wyatt walked over to her side and held out a phone. “This was in his car. Maybe you can figure out who he’s been talking to. Oh, I also found what looks like a rifle case in the trunk. I didn’t open it to see what was inside. There was a revolver under the driver’s seat, along with the knife you dropped on the floor mat.”

  “Our buddy Ringo is a walking arsenal.” She took the cell. “I’ll need his fingerprint to unlock it. If he won’t cooperate, knock him out.”

  GQ reached down to grip the thug’s right wrist, secured by the cuffs. “That shouldn’t be necessary.” When he bent his fingers back, the man yelped and stopped struggling.

  Talia touched his index finger to the home button, and the screen opened. “Got it. This shouldn’t take long unless he’s a whole lot smarter than I think he is.”

  “Bitch.” The man spat in her direction.

  “Surely you can be more creative than that.” She rolled her eyes and walked away.

  Wyatt followed her over to the table and spoke quietly. “Is what we’re doing legal? Shouldn’t we call the police?”

  “We will just as soon as I find out everything I can about him. He attacked me. We’re well within our rights to defend ourselves and restrain him. No one is going to ask how long we waited before contacting the authorities.”

  “If you say so. What’s on his phone?”

  “Not much. It’s a burner, but he did make a couple of calls to the same number. I’m tempted to simply dial it to see who answers, but that would tip the person off. Let’s see if I can track the number instead.”

  Ten minutes later, she was on the phone with a small D.C. electronics store, using her old FBI credentials to elicit information. Not that the store manager had cared enough to check them. “You’re sure the phone was paid for by cash?”

  “They always are.” The woman on the other end of the line sounded bored. Maybe being questioned by the FBI wasn’t such a rare occurrence in her life. “Based on my records, it was one I sold right at the end of the day. What’s funny is I actually remember the lady who bought it because I had to unlock the door to let her inside. She wouldn’t stop rapping on the glass and acted all high and mighty. Said she didn’t have time to go to a different store.”

  “I don’t suppose this person was a public figure, someone you recognized?”

  “Nope, but while she was pulling out her cash to pay, her cell rang. She looked irritated but answered it and obviously didn’t give a crap that she was making me late for a date.”

  Talia met Wyatt’s gaze. “Did she mention anything that would help to identify her?”

  “Not really. She said she was taking care of the problem. Then she said, ‘Yeah, I’m sure. See you in the morning, Dee.’ I only remember because my dog’s name is DeeDee.”

  “What did the woman look like?”

  “The usual overdressed, uptight, Capitol Hill sort. Skinny and blond. Hey, if you don’t have any other questions, I have a customer.”

  “That’s it. Thanks very much for your cooperation.” Talia disconnected and laid down her phone. “Well, that was informative.”

  “Yeah?” GQ looked up from his cell. “Did you get a name?”

  “In a roundabout way.” She faced Wyatt. “The two women on our list of potential leaks both knew Jill Erickson, who acts as an advisor to Senator Deirdre Gamble.” She tapped on her keyboard to pull up a photograph of the woman. “According to the manager who sold her the phone, the person this dirtbag called twice last night is an uptight, skinny, blond professional. While she was in the store, she took a call from someone she referred to as Dee.”

  Wyatt leaned closer. “The description certainly fits Jill Erickson. You think she was talking to Senator Gamble?”

  “That’s exactly what I believe.” She studied the man on the floor. “How am I doing?”

  He gave her a defiant sneer. “I’m not saying shit.”

  “You don’t have to.” A smile curved her lips. “We got what we came for—and then some.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wyatt stood on a small rise at the edge of the vineyard and surveyed the private residence a short distance down the slope. Behind him, Talia spoke on the phone with Wolf. They’d been talking for several minutes, and his attention wandered when the front door of the house opened. An older woman with silver-gray hair emerged. She wore tan slacks and a long-sleeved, checked shirt, and carried gloves and a trowel. On her way to the small garden at the side of the house planted with what looked like tomatoes, zucchini, and lettuce, she paused to look in their direction.

  Talia’s grandmother, Marie Greer. The family resemblance was apparent in her delicate bone structure, similar to Talia’s classic beauty, despite the toll age had taken on her weathered skin. The woman’s gaze landed briefly on him with a flash of recognition before moving to Talia who stood with her back turned. Emotion he couldn’t interpret flared in her blue eyes. When she waved imperiously, he nudged Talia.

  She turned and gave him a questioning glance. He nodded toward the waiting woman, and her eyes widened.

  “I have to go, Wolf. I’ll be in touch if anything else happens. Okay. Bye.” She stuck her phone in the pocket of her skirt.

  He studied her closely, trying to gauge her reaction. “It appears we’re being summoned.”

  “I see that.” Her chest rose and fell as she let out a long breath. “This should be interesting.”

  He rested a hand on her warm arm. “Do you want to talk to her?”

  “Why not?” She gave him a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Maybe she just wants to tell us we’re trespassing.”

  “I doubt it. Based on her reaction when she saw us, I’m pretty positive she knows exactly who you are.”

  “Then let’s go see what she has to say.”

  Talia’s back was ramrod straight as she led the way down the incline toward the yard where her grandmother waited. Despite her cavalier attitude, he knew her well enough to tell she was a bundle of nerves barely kept in check. He scowled as they drew closer. If the old biddy hurt Talia, he’d have a hard time remembering his mother had taught him to always respect his elders.

  “Hello, Mrs. Greer. I hope we didn’t disturb you.” Talia’s tone was neutral.

  “You’re my . . . you’re Talia Davis.” Her voice was forthright with an underlying hint of emotion she couldn’t quite hide. “The management company notified me you were a guest on No Stone Unturned, which would be filming on my property today.”

  “The vineyard is beautiful, a fitting backdrop. My mother always spoke fondly of this place.”

  “She was very close to her grandmother and spent a lot of time here when she was young. Is that why you chose this location for
your show?” Her gaze flashed quickly to Wyatt and back again, zeroing in on Talia with laser intensity.

  “I wanted to visit the vineyard and winery.” Her hands shook as she clenched her fingers into fists at her sides. “However, I didn’t plan to intrude on your privacy.”

  “I hope this isn’t some sort of exposé designed to tarnish our family name.” Her voice quavered slightly.

  “Not at all, Mrs. Greer.” Wyatt spoke before Talia could. “It’s one segment in a historical series revolving around spoons owned by the founding fathers.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “The old story about my mother’s family being descendants of Dolley Madison? Is that what this is about?”

  “Yes.” Talia hesitated for a moment. “I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

  “I guess I wouldn’t blame you if you were.” The starch seemed to drain out of her, and she swayed slightly. “I regret not responding to the letter you sent when your mother passed. Henry wouldn’t allow me to contact you. He made it clear Lila had been dead to him for years. I should have stood up to him but didn’t.”

  “Is he . . .”

  “Gone nearly two years now. I thought about contacting you after I buried him but didn’t have the courage. I can’t excuse the way we treated Lila or you in the past, and I don’t expect you to understand. I certainly wouldn’t ask you to forgive me.” Her lips trembled slightly before she clamped them together. “I’m glad to have been given an opportunity to meet you. It was more than I expected.”

  “My mother worked every day of her life to provide food and shelter, and to give me the education she never had. Her life was far from easy.” Talia’s voice hardened. “You’re right. I don’t feel the least bit forgiving.”

  “From your perspective, that’s fair.” Though her voice cracked slightly, her eyes remained dry. “We warned Lila that Xander Davis would come to no good end and drag her down with him, but she wouldn’t listen. She was crazy in love with that boy, despite their obvious differences. Maybe because of them.”