Delta Force Defender

by Carol Ericson

  “He is desperate to protect his identity. He probably never figured you’d find Tony and never figured Tony would fess up to being Casey’s pimp.”

  “But I did, and Tony did and now we have a chance to discover who this guy is and why he set me up with those emails about Major Denver.”

  “And who’s giving him orders.” Cam’s jaw tightened. “I’d like to get him under a single bright light to find that out.”

  “He must know we don’t have this super-secret thing he’s searching for because he’s still after it—and us. I don’t understand why he doesn’t just disappear.” She cupped his jaw with her hand. “Even if we get a good look at him and we’re able to convince the FBI or the CIA to investigate him for those emails, it’s not going to change anything for Denver, is it? There’s still the rest of the evidence against the major that these emails brought to light.”

  “It’s a start. It’s a connection. Right now, we don’t know who set him up or why. If this Ben can give us some insight, maybe we can unravel the rest of it.”

  “Then it’s a game of cat and mouse, isn’t it? We try to find the evidence, and he tries to make sure we don’t. When is he going to give it up?”

  Cam shrugged and pulled her out of the chair. “When he’s tired of playing cat and mouse.”

  “Or when I’m dead.”

  “Don’t say that.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and drove his thumbs into her skin.

  “We both know the reason why he hasn’t taken his shot at me yet.”

  “We do?” Cam ran his tongue over his dry lips.

  “It’s because you’re here, Cam. He knows I have some kind of badass bodyguard dogging me, and when you leave—” her shoulders tensed beneath his hands “—I’m a goner.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Yet.” She tucked her head beneath his chin. “How many more days until you leave?”

  “Shh.” He dropped his hands to her waist and pulled her body against his. “We have time. I’m gonna catch this guy and when I do, he’ll pay—for everything.”

  * * *

  LATER THAT MORNING, Martha, still sleepy-eyed, greeted him in the kitchen, holding up a plate of eggs. “Scrambled. Is that okay with you?”

  “You didn’t have to make breakfast...but I’m glad you did.” He straddled the stool at the island counter. “I’d like to have a look out back now that it’s light and see if Ben left anything. Would also be interesting to figure out how he got here. Unless that camera out front is broken like the one at the boat dock, he didn’t come up the driveway.”

  She dropped two slices of toast on his plate and put it on the place mat in front of him. “I wanted to show you the boat dock, anyway. It’s not as big as the one we had when my dad was a free man, but it’s similar.”

  “Must’ve been an idyllic childhood.”

  “It was lonely. I didn’t make friends easily, and my mother insisted on sending me to a private school, miles away from our house. My parents’ home wasn’t exactly part of a neighborhood.” She waved her fork around. “Kind of like this place. I couldn’t run down the block to play with friends. That’s one of the reasons why I read a lot—and hung out with my dad.”

  “At least you had a dad you could hang out with...and at least you could read.” Cam shook his head as soon as the words left his lips. “I sound like a self-pitying idiot.”

  She smiled, and his world got brighter by several shades.

  “A little, but it’s safe to do that with me. At least you had godlike good looks and athletic abilities. You must’ve been Mr. Popularity growing up.”

  “Yeah, but that can get kind of lonely too in its own way.”

  She sat on the stool next to him and bumped his shoulder with hers. “Two lonely kids and now here we are.”

  “No place I’d rather be.” He dabbed a crumb from the corner of her mouth. “When I discovered the identity of the CIA translator who turned over the emails that upended Denver’s life, I was ready to give you the third degree. I thought you might’ve even been involved in the setup—until I met you. Then I knew exactly why you’d been the conduit for those emails.”

  “Because of my rigid adherence to protocol.”

  “But you surprised me, and you sure as hell surprised Ben.”

  She twirled her fork on her plate. “Do you think the patriot and Ben are the same person? We’ve been assuming they are, but maybe we’re dealing with two different people—the computer geek and the killer.”

  “Could be.” He brushed the toast crumbs from his fingers into the napkin on his lap. “The patriot warned you the night before Wentworth’s death. That’s for sure. He knew that was coming.”

  “Just seems like we’re dealing with someone who has two very different sets of skills.”

  “A computer nerd can’t be a killer? Or an assassin can’t also be well versed in computer programming?”

  “Anything’s possible, but I dated a tech whiz and I couldn’t see him taking out Tony like that.”

  So, Martha did date. Cam stirred the eggs around his plate, intently studying the pattern they made. “What happened to that relationship?”

  “Bad idea all around. We were too much alike, and I worked with him or at least near him.”

  “CIA analyst?”

  “Not nearly that exciting. CIA tech guy.”

  “Who broke it off?”

  “I sort of did. It wasn’t that serious to even be called a breakup. We talked a lot. We were friends first, and then he got the bright idea to ask me out. He never even saw the inside of my bedroom.”

  Cam raised his eyebrows. Was that Martha’s way of telling him she hadn’t slept with the guy? “Still friends?”

  “We chat when we see each other at work.” She picked up her plate and held it out toward him. “Are you done?”

  He stacked his plate on top of hers. “That hit the spot. Now let’s bundle up and take a look around outside.”

  Martha left their plates in the sink, and they grabbed their jackets. When they slipped through the back door that had been compromised the previous night, Cam stepped back and looked at the scratches on the window.

  He rubbed the rough patch of glass. “You should get this fixed. It wouldn’t take much to punch that out. He was probably minutes away from doing that.”

  “Add it to my list, which includes getting my Georgetown locks changed.”

  Cam crouched and searched the ground in front of the door. The mat seemed undisturbed, and the brick beneath didn’t show any marks or footprints, not even theirs from last night.

  He took two steps back, grazed the edge of the planter with his leg and squatted beside the container to study the plant for threads.

  “You’re retracing his steps?” Martha tilted her head.

  “Yeah. It looked like he ran straight back to the boat dock and the bay.”

  Martha turned and faced the water. The brisk breeze blew her hair back from her face. “He must have, unless he circled back to the front, but we didn’t see anything on the camera footage. Maybe he came up by water.”

  “You did want to show me the boat dock.”

  She stuck her hand out behind her. “Let’s go.”

  In two strides he joined her and grabbed her hand. Their footsteps crunched on the gravel path leading toward the dock.

  Cam stopped and dropped to one knee. “If he took this path, he would’ve left footprints.”

  Martha crouched beside him and poked at the gravel with her finger. “Looks like he may have even smoothed this over by shuffling his feet.”

  “Maybe, or the wind covered his tracks.” Cam cupped her elbow and helped her rise. “I think we’re on the right track here.”

  When they reached the dock, Cam stomped on it. “Sturdier than it looks.”

  “It has t
o hold up to the weather, especially this time of year.” She pounded on the side of the shed that was designed to hold a small boat. “This, too, even though my mom doesn’t have a boat.”

  Cam peered around the corner at the water stirring inside the empty boat shed. “Maybe he parked his own boat here when he came up.”

  Martha placed her hands on her hips and stared at the gray water lapping at the shore. “He could’ve come from the public dock, moored here and then attempted his break-in. When you showed up, he hightailed it back to his boat and took off, probably knowing you’d look for a car out front.”

  “I probably could’ve caught him if I’d come straight back here instead of wasting time putting clothes on and going to the front of the house.” He fired a pebble into the water.

  “You couldn’t have come out here without your clothes.” Martha moseyed to the edge of the dock and kicked at the mooring.

  “Don’t fall in.” Cam leaned over to gather a few more stones for skipping, and a half-smoked cigarette on the shore. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger and held it up. “Look at this. Does your mother smoke?”

  “No.”

  He cupped it in his palm and bounced it in his hand. “This looks hand rolled. Would anyone else be down here? It’s dry. Looks like someone meant to toss it in the water and missed—maybe because it was dark.”

  “My mom’s handyman smokes. He’s married to the housekeeper, and he comes down here sometimes when MayBeth is working, but I don’t think he rolls his own.”

  “When was the last time he was here? If this had been tossed here any earlier than last night, it would be wet by now or swept into the bay.”

  “I don’t know for sure, but MayBeth usually comes on Fridays. Maybe Ben smokes.”

  “I’m hanging on to this.” He slipped the cigarette into his pocket. “He knows you’re staying at your mom’s. He knows how to get here, and he tried to break in.”

  “And he knows you’re here too—for now.”

  “You’ve been checking your texts? We know he has your number from Casey’s phone.”

  She patted her jacket pocket. “All the time. He’s gone quiet after weeks of harassing me.”

  “Then he was just trying to intimidate you into keeping quiet about your suspicions.”

  “Now he’s afraid I’m going to find him out and report him. If he hadn’t started murdering people, I wouldn’t have had a clue to his identity.”

  “Those murders were always in his playbook—maybe not Tony’s—but he wanted to cover his tracks and get rid of Wentworth and Casey. She could tie him to both Wentworth and the emails, and he wanted to erase that link. The only loose end left was you holding on to those emails for some reason he can’t figure out.”

  “Believe me. I couldn’t figure it out at first either, but now I know it was instinct that led me to hold on to them.” She tucked her hand in his pocket. “And that instinct led you to me. It all happened for a reason.”

  He inserted his hand and folded it around hers. “I feel it, too. We’re like puzzle pieces, and we both fill a part in this mosaic.”

  She pressed her arm against his as she hunched her shoulder. “I’m cold. Let’s go inside, and I’ll find someone to fix that window.”

  A phone buzzed and Cam dipped his hand into his other pocket. “That’s yours.”

  Martha pulled out her phone and cupped a hand around the display to read the text. “It’s my friend Farah. She’s a translator who works with me.”

  “I’m assuming everyone at work knows what’s going on with you.”

  “Yeah.” She looked up from the phone. “Farah wants to meet for drinks tonight to tell me what’s going on, what people are saying.”

  “Can she be trusted?”

  “Farah? Absolutely.”

  “Then I think it’s a good idea. Get the pulse of what’s going on there.”

  “I think you’re right.” Martha cupped the phone with one hand and texted with her thumb.

  She had two more exchanges with Farah and then pocketed the phone. “We’re all set for eight o’clock tonight.”

  Cam took her hand. “Plenty of time to replace the glass in the window, get your locks changed and make a trip to and from my hotel.”

  “To and from?”

  “To pick up my stuff and bring it here.” He pressed a kiss against her temple. “After what happened here this morning, you don’t think I’m going to allow you to stay on your own, do you?”

  Cam pulled her close on their walk back to the house, inhaling the crisp scent of the bay that clung to her hair. He didn’t know how he was ever going to leave Martha on her own as long as this killer had her in his sights.

  * * *

  SECURITY BUSINESS AND errands ate up the rest of the afternoon. Martha had a locksmith change the locks to her town house, got the glass replaced in the sliding glass door and Cam moved from his hotel to Mom’s house.

  Too tired to cook and too frazzled to go out, they picked up a pizza on the way back to Mom’s. Martha patted her full tummy and curled one leg beneath her on the sofa. “I was relieved to see that our friend hadn’t made a return visit to my town house.”

  “Not that we know of, anyway. You should’ve followed your mother’s example and wired that place with a security system.”

  “He probably would’ve disabled that like he did the one at the bar.” She nudged the pizza box with the toe of her shoe. “There are two pieces left. Do you want them, or should I wrap them up and put them in the fridge?”

  “People actually wrap and refrigerate leftover pizza instead of just eating it in the morning?”

  “Ugh.” She wrinkled her nose as she eyed the gooey cheese congealing on top of the slices.

  Reaching forward and ripping the pieces apart, Cam said, “I’d better do them justice now.”

  As a shot of the Insider flashed on the muted TV screen, Martha lunged for the remote and turned up the volume. “I wonder if they have any suspects yet.”

  “You and I both know the police will never find the real killer.”

  They listened to the story for a minute, and then Martha muted the sound again. “They’re still putting out the burglary story. Maybe they don’t want to reveal the message on the table to the general public.”

  “Well, he did clean out the cash drawer and the safe to make it look good.”

  “And destroyed the security system.”

  “Good thing he did that or we’d be on it, front and center.” Cam dragged a napkin across his mouth. “I haven’t heard anything yet about Tony’s extracurricular activities.”

  “Or his connection to Casey.”

  “Just another vicious murder in DC.”

  “Georgetown, and that’s why it’s getting so much air play.”

  “Is this bar we’re going to tonight near the Insider?”

  “Not far.” Martha sniffed the air. “What is that smell? Tobacco? I’ve been smelling it on and off all day.”

  Cam reached across her and plucked his jacket from the arm of the sofa. “It’s that cigarette I picked up by the boat dock. The tobacco is kind of sweet, isn’t it?”

  “And strong.” She pushed up from the sofa. “I’ll get you a plastic bag from the kitchen.”

  As she made a grab for the pizza box, Cam snatched up the last piece of pizza. “I’m saving this piece from the fate of being wrapped and stored.”

  She snorted. “A great sacrifice for you, I’m sure.”

  An hour later, they were on their way to another bar in Georgetown, and Martha hoped for a better outcome than last night.

  She yawned as she pulled into a public parking lot on the crowded street. “I’m not sure I should have a drink tonight. I’m ready to fall asleep as it is.”

  “I wouldn’t make any promises you can’t keep.” Cam tap
ped on the window to point out an empty parking space. “You may need a drink after listening to what your friend has to say.”

  They walked the two blocks to the waterfront bar hand in hand, and Martha could almost imagine they were on a regular date. She couldn’t help noticing the admiring glances women threw at Cam, and she was just superficial enough that the attention to her date brought a smile to her face.

  She tugged on Cam’s hand as the bar came into view. “This is a date, right? You’re not in Delta Force, you didn’t track me down to interrogate me about the Denver emails, you never met Casey or saw Wentworth at my place.”

  “Just like we discussed.” He opened the door for her and put his hand on her back as he whispered in her ear, “Do you see Farah?”

  Martha swept the bar with her gaze and spotted Farah at a table with the guy she’d met on a dating website a few months ago—the married guy. “She’s over there, and...”

  Cam didn’t give her a chance to finish her sentence. He crooked an arm around her neck and pulled her around for a kiss on the mouth.

  For a few seconds Martha forgot she was standing in a crowded bar, forgot she had a three-time killer stalking her, forgot she was going to lose Cam in a week.

  Her arm curled around his waist, and she sagged against him as a pool of heat ached between her legs.

  He ended the long kiss, punctuated by another peck on the lips. “There. That should put any doubt about this being date night to rest.”

  Martha blinked and adjusted her glasses. She cleared her throat. “Right.”

  She yanked on his sleeve. “What I was going to say before you ambushed me is that Farah is here with her scumbag boyfriend.”

  “He’s a scumbag?”

  “He’s married.”

  “Oh, that kind of scumbag.” He rubbed her back. “You weren’t planning to get top secret with Farah anyway, were you?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s see if she can tell you what they’re saying about you in the office.” He nudged her back, and she led him to Farah’s table.

  Farah rose from her chair, her wide, dark eyes darting from Martha to Cam. She gave Martha a one-armed hug and said, “You take a day off work and collect a boyfriend along the way?”