by Misty Evans
He desperately wanted to reach out and touch her. Grab her and give her a good hard shake. What the hell was wrong with her? “How about this? I’ll get a hotel room. We’ll order room service.”
Jack-Jack whined at her. She turned her smile on him. “I really want to, Joe, I do.”
But she wasn’t going to. Maybe if he could just get her to the car, he could wear her down. “It’s okay, I understand. Come get the food and water from my car, at least.”
Maybe he’d simply kidnap her.
Her smile turned rueful. “Nice try.”
It was like she could read his mind, and he chuckled without humor. “You gotta give me points for trying.”
“Like I said earlier, I’ll be in touch.”
His phone buzzed and he started to ignore it, but she turned her back on him and walked toward the camp. Jack-Jack look confused, not sure whether to follow or stay with Joe. Joe used his fingers to motion him to go with Sam. The dog was smart. He did.
His caller ID read Roman Walsh. Damn.
“Cahill,” he answered.
The director’s next words made Joe’s blood run cold, even in the heat. “Kyle Dunmire is dead.”
Silence hung on the open line. Joe cursed. “You can’t be serious. When did this happen? How did it happen?”
Sam was still close enough to eavesdrop and she pivoted sharply to look at him. Joe motioned her back and she slowly walked in his direction, brows furrowed.
“We’re not sure about the details yet,” Walsh told him, “but it’s possible you were the last to see him alive.”
The rest of Walsh words sounded muffled in Joe’s ears, a dull ringing invading them. The director told him he’d call with further details as they came in, and Joe disconnected.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.
Joe pocketed the phone, the implications of what happened screaming in his mind. “We have a big problem,”
“Bigger than the fact I’m a terrorist?”
“Sam.” Things had gone from bad to worse. “Kyle is dead.”
7
Sam’s legs trembled. She was already sweating, but a new wave—this one cold—washed through her. The bag of chips she’d scrounged for dinner threatened to come up. “Oh my god.”
Joe took several steps toward her. It had to be getting close to eight-thirty/nine o’clock from the shadows falling around them. Her eyes played tricks on her in twilight and he appeared slightly blurry. “Medical examiner suspects food poisoning or allergic reaction. The kid was found in a pool of vomit, with sushi on the kitchen counter.”
Her ears began to buzz. “What?”
Joe looked as unconvinced as she felt. “No official cause of death from the coroner until tomorrow. The Marshal saw no one coming or going after I left. Walsh wanted to know if the kid was okay last I saw him.”
Acid rose into her throat. “Oh shit.”
“Exactly.” Joe took another step closer. “Kyle was involved in a highly classified project with you—my former lover—who is now considered a terrorist, at the center of it. And after I interviewed him, he’s found dead.”
He was too close. She knew she should move. He might try to overpower her and drag her off. She told her feet to step back, but they were anchored to the ground. “They got to him.”
Joe didn’t seem surprised by her train of thought. “You think the people who set you up killed Kyle?”
“Of course!” Why, she wasn’t sure. He was an outsider, an innocent, wasn’t he? She reached for something to keep her from falling into a pit of despair. “The camera, Joe! And the listening device. Maybe we caught the assassin.”
Joe nodded, his gaze so intense it added to her lightheadedness. “The listening device wasn’t transmitting earlier when I checked. Must be a dud. Come home and we’ll review the camera footage together.”
Home. He still thought of his place as their home, the one they’d shared together. Deep in her heart, she did, too. Being there this morning had brought dozens of happy memories rushing back. The thought of food, a shower, a bed—Joe’s bed—filled her with such longing.
She glanced at his hands, one still holding his phone, and wished he’d wrap his arms around her, make this awful nightmare stop. “You believe me now?”
His pause was a heartbeat too long. “I believe there’s more to this investigation than either of us understands. You’re right, we may have caught the killer on video, if Kyle was intentionally murdered. Maybe he had an allergy to something in the sushi or it was bad. The only way to know is to examine that footage.”
“Do you see why I installed the camera? It was the right thing to do.”
“It may help us, yes.” He was using his calm, friendly voice. Trying not to scare her. Did he realize just how badly frightened she was?
“I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.” The heat was so oppressive. Her stomach continued to rage, threatening to embarrass her, and her limbs felt like jelly. Poor Kyle. “I want your word you won’t turn me in or try to get me to do it myself.”
“If I planned to take you in, don’t you think I would’ve done it already?”
The touch of cockiness aggravated her, but she preferred that over him handling her with kid gloves. She raised her chin in defiance. “Swear it.”
He sighed and returned the phone to his pocket, held up his big hands in surrender. Hands that had caressed her body, supported her, provided a lifeline when she had none. “I swear. I have no plans to follow through with this bounty, and I know better than to try and talk you into doing something you don’t want to. All I’m attempting at the moment is to figure out what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Her breath hiccupped at the realization he truly was going to help her. Head swimming, she blinked away the vertigo. Before she landed flat on her ass, she bent down, acting as though she needed to say good-bye to Jack-Jack. The ground tilted and she nearly tipped over, even as she reached for him.
Jack-Jack braced his feet, steadying her. He licked her face and she clung to his neck, whispering in his ear, “Thank you. You’re looking good by the way. If I can come back for you, I will.”
He wagged his tail and licked her again, making her chuckle.
Joe gently took her elbow and helped her stand. “He’s coming with us.”
“You couldn’t wait to get rid of him earlier. Now you wanna take him with us?”
“I have the feeling he isn’t going to let you go anywhere without him again.”
Sam withdrew from Joe’s grip, even though his steadying solidness felt wonderful. “He’s a good boy. Smart. You won’t have any trouble with him, and I swear I won’t leave him at your place again.”
Jack-Jack barked his approval, and she knew by the way Joe nodded and started walking away he was giving her the dog as a concession. Knowing her the way he did, he believed she’d feel safer with Jack-Jack there, and he was right.
“Your choice,” she told the mutt. She motioned at Hetty and Dec. “You can stay with them and I’ll be glad to know you’re keeping watch over our friends.” A glance toward Joe’s retreating back, and she noticed the tightness in his shoulders. It was taking everything in him not to look back to see if she was following. “Or you can go with me and that guy.”
Jack-Jack barked and took off after Joe.
“I take back what I said about you being smart,” she called after him. Facing the tiny camp, she waved at Hetty and Dec. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”
She’d intended to sneak off during the night anyway. Patterns, comfort zones…she’d already overstayed, gotten complacent and protective about these two. If someone had killed Kyle—she shuddered.
The horrifying notion Hetty and Dec could be in danger because of her made her knees weak again. No. She’d been careful. No one had followed her here. Leaving her backpack with them, she waved again and forced her feet to follow Joe.
He was waiting at the corner, scanning the area, always alert for trouble. There
were no active streetlights in this section and the scenery was gray and shadowy. At night, the buildings looked like leftovers of a battle zone. With Jack-Jack trotting beside her, the two of them got in the car.
Joe turned the vehicle around and headed for the freeway. “Water’s in the back.”
She was dehydrated, and he knew it. Glancing over the seat, she saw a cooler. Jack-Jack was in her lap, front paws on the door and his head hanging out the window. She’d have to move him in order to twist around, but her limbs felt like heavy weights. Her head, too. She laid it against the headrest and closed her eyes. “I can’t believe they killed him. Why would they do that?”
Joe didn’t answer, seemingly intent on getting them out of this part of town. Or maybe he thought her theory was edged with too much conspiracy.
She dozed, and the next thing she knew, Jack-Jack’s tail was beating her face and they were in a parking lot across from Joe’s condo. Living close to the beach, even at this time of night, there was activity up and down the streets and on the distant boardwalk. Tourists and vacationers were heading in after a long day on the sand, or out to the nightclubs.
Joe handed her a bottle of water. “Drink up. You’re going to need to use whatever covert operation you did this morning, since the Marshal is still here. Can you make it in on your own?”
She felt better after the nap and drank half the water before answering. “Of course.”
The thought of trudging through the lot, past the condominium building attached to it, crossing the street and getting into Joe’s without raising any suspicions actually sounded like more than she could handle at the moment. All this time on the run, and now the death of a somewhat innocent college student—quite possibly because of her—had worn her down to a very fine point. At any moment, she felt as if she might go postal, or dissolve into a bucket of tears. She wasn’t sure which.
No tears. She could hear her dad’s voice. He’d been tough on her over the years, but right now, she was glad he’d taught her to only use them when she needed to manipulate someone.
It sounded cold-hearted and cruel, but in undercover work, it had come in handy more than once. She could play the emotional woman when needed and get information or help. The only time she cried for real was behind the bathroom door with the water running.
Show no weakness, Dad had always said. If you needed to let out emotion, go hit something. He’d given her a bat for that very purpose and there were many times when she’d taken it to her pillow. Once to her brother, Larson. He was three years older and a lot bigger, and even with their dad’s training, it didn’t take long for him to manhandle the weapon from her. He’d still ended up with a couple bruises, but nothing worse.
“Sam?”
Screwing the cap on the bottle, she patted Jack-Jack on his back, and nodded. “I’ll be there in ten.”
She let the dog out and he ran to a tiny two-by-two section of grass with a palm tree and peed on it. Her legs were more stable, but she still had to move slowly. Joe told her to be careful, and she closed the door.
Waiting until she found an opportune moment, she slipped in with a group of twenty-somethings dressed in party clothes ten minutes later to cross the street, then behind an Escalade parked near the side entrance of the building.
A couple walked by, probably returning from dinner and the woman caught sight of Jack-Jack. “Beautiful dog,” she said to Sam as they headed inside.
Sam smiled and picked him up, following. “He’s amazing. Very loving.”
The woman was a little tipsy, but kept talking as they entered. “Do you live here? I didn’t think we were allowed to have dogs.”
“Just visiting a friend.”
It was dangerous letting anyone see her who might be able to identify her, but she was too tired to care at the moment. Simply carrying on a fake conversation took all her willpower, but soon she was home.
He’d microwaved a burrito for her and had her favorite salsa and a large glass of water waiting on the breakfast bar. She wanted to see that video, but the smell of the food was too much. Without a word, she hopped on the stool and started shoveling it down.
Joe left her alone, which was appreciated, and made sure Jack-Jack had a bowl of food. The dog ate it all and drank a matching bowl of water. When Sam finished her meal, she found both of them in Joe’s office. He was scanning footage from Kyle’s apartment and paused it until she pulled up a chair and settled beside him. Jack-Jack jumped in her lap and laid down.
Joe’s face showed little emotion, but the eyes, that was her clue. He was tired, and worried, but relieved too. He scanned her face, seemed satisfied she was in better shape. “Ready?”
She inhaled deeply, feeling a contentment settle over her. For now, she was safe. She nodded.
His finger tapped a key and the video played. “Here we go.”
8
“How did they discover the body?” Sam huddled over Jack-Jack, absentmindedly stroking him. Her voice was strained.
On screen, they watched Kyle answer a call that seemed to excite him. Whoever was on the other end made the kid light up like a Christmas tree. Joe silently cursed the dead listening device, but the camera’s tiny microphone did catch a few things.
Even as Kyle spoke, he jumped up and began straightening the living room. “Of course! Now…fine.”
Joe tinkered with the software, trying to enhance the acoustical feedback. “The kid is a TA and holds a study hall once a week. He didn’t show up for the summer class he’s in charge of at five. Phone calls were made, and eventually, Harris contacted the Marshal and sent him to check on Kyle. He was already dead.”
The video continued as the conversation ended and Kyle hastily gathered dirty clothes lying around. He disappeared from view and a distant hissing noise could be heard. Joe fast-forwarded until he reappeared fifteen minutes later, carrying what looked like cologne and patting some on his cheeks. He’d obviously showered, his hair wet. His lips moved as if he were talking to himself.
Sam leaned in slightly, trying to hear what he was saying. “Is he getting ready for a date?”
Her body odor was something else, but regardless, Joe was relieved to have her next to him. At least for the moment, he didn’t have to worry about her.
Jack-Jack lifted his head, seemed satisfied Joe and Sam weren’t going anywhere, and went back to sleep.
Working through the footage until they found Kyle staring out the windows next to the front door, Joe speculated. “He’s definitely waiting for someone.”
“Someone he wanted to impress.”
While the kid stood there, he fiddled with his phone. He began pacing, and seemed to be talking to an invisible person. From the little they could get from the camera’s microphone, he was trying out various pick-up lines.
Joe internally grimaced at the kid’s awkwardness.
Sam sighed. “That’s just sad.”
Kyle might’ve been a genius when it came to coding software, but he seemed completely petrified of whoever had invited themselves over.
“Wait. Stop.” Sam pointed at the screen. “Back up.”
Joe did, rewinding to a place where Kyle’s head went from facing forward to whipping around to look behind him and into the kitchen, his brows furrowing. “Hello?”
Whoever appeared in his line of sight made those eyebrows jack straight up, as did the corners of his mouth. “How’d you get in there?” he asked the person off camera.
They couldn’t hear a response, thanks to the defective listening device.
Sam shook her head in disgust as they continued to watch, the video feed picking up only the faintest noises once Kyle joined his companion. They heard laughing, and what sounded like a woman speaking.
Joe cranked up the volume, but the conversation was too indistinct. The tiny microphone on the camera was pointed in the wrong direction, at the living room. Was it too much to hope the couple moved into there, so they could see the visitor’s face?
He had
the damning feeling that wasn’t going to happen. If this was their killer, she’d kept Kyle in the kitchen.
They heard the clank of plates and glasses. Walsh hadn’t mentioned there was more than one of either found at the scene, but then the place had been a mess. There was the sound of low conversation and possibly eating and Joe continued to mentally urge them to move into camera range.
Minutes ticked by, both him and Sam listening closely. Things got quiet, and then…
Something heavy and solid hit the floor. There was a moan. As the seconds ticked by all sound ceased, and then a rhythmic thud thud thud came through the speakers.
Sam looked at Joe with wide eyes. “That was fast.”
At least one of those awful lines Kyle had been practicing must have worked. He was going at it on the kitchen floor with his visitor. Joe turned the volume down a notch. “So, she came up the back way, didn’t knock, and brought food. Apparently, she already had seduction on her mind.”
“Or killing,” Sam countered.
Kyle continued to make animalistic noises, but the woman stayed silent. They heard him finishing with a shouted curse, and Joe rolled his eyes. “Maybe she killed him just because he came first.”
Sam smacked him. “Be serious. She entered that way to surprise him. Maybe she planned to sneak up on him and kill him, but why call and let him know she was coming over first? She brought the food. I bet there’s a toxin in it and that’s what killed him.”
Joe believed it was too much of a coincidence that Kyle had died today, but shit happened all the time. Maybe the kid really did have a bad reaction to the sushi, or there was some other culprit that had nothing to do with the woman. On the other hand, it didn’t look good for her. “Who do you think she is?”
Kyle said something the microphone didn’t catch and there was brief laughter from his sex partner. They heard bodies shuffling, before the sound cut out once more. Joe wanted to bang on the computer but that was pointless. A minute ticked by and then the sound wavered in with Kyle making a surprised cry. Soft murmuring from the woman, and the next thing they heard, retching noises.