Laurel waited behind the door.
Mace nudged his captive with a none-too-gentle kick to the ribs. With the barrel of his gun pressed against the man’s head, Mace whispered, “Answer him. No funny business.”
After a grimace, Virgil called out. “Yeah. I’m here.”
“Hey, Virge, what’s taking so long? I expected you to come back with a couple of war trophies—”
Laurel didn’t give him time to finish. She yanked the door back, sending the second man off balance. When he stumbled, she kicked out with her right leg, catching him in the gut.
He grunted in pain but didn’t topple.
She followed up with a blow to his jaw, then slammed the ridge of her knuckles under his nose. It bled profusely.
“You’re gonna—”
“Pay for that? That’s what they all say.” She hooked her leg under his, and, with a twist of her hips, threw him to the ground. Positioning her foot against his neck, she said, “Tell us who sent you.”
The man twisted his neck to shoot her a look of hatred.
Virgil got his bravado back. “You ain’t gettin’ nothin’ from us.” Despite the defiant words, the man looked like he didn’t think for himself and waited on others to tell him what to do. A nose that had been broken at least twice did nothing to offset a mouth that had several teeth missing.
“No?”
“Maybe this will help. Sammy, show ’em your stuff.” The skiff of fur at Sammy’s neck stood at attention, and he gave a grumbling growl.
“I ain’t scared of no three-legged dog,” the second man said even as he shrank away from Sammy.
“Sammy is a decorated soldier. He knows twenty ways to kill you. All it takes is a command from me and you’ll be dead within seconds.”
A man walked inside, took a look at the scene before him and quickly backed out.
“Tell us who sent you or I’ll leave the lady and her dog to finish you two off.” Mace made a sound of disgust. “And maybe I’ll put it out there that the two of you were taken down by a woman half your size and her three-legged dog.”
Neither man said a word. Laurel knelt beside them and searched their pockets. “Nothing. Not even a cell phone.”
Though the men didn’t appear overly smart, they’d had brains enough to leave their phones behind. A phone’s history could yield a wealth of information.
Mace pulled out his own phone and sent a text to Shelley, explaining the situation. She would smooth things over with the local cops who were sure to show up in quick order. A grin pulled his lips up at the corners when he got a reply.
What’s up with you? Can’t you go a couple of hours without getting into it with the Collective’s thugs? Shelley had never held back on voicing her opinion.
After slipping a pair of flexi-cuffs on the second man, he hauled both men into the far stall and dumped them on the floor. “These two won’t be going home tonight.”
Sammy gave a last growl at the men.
“Keep your freak of a dog away from me,” Virgil muttered.
“What? Now you’re afraid of my three-legged friend?” Laurel gave a short command to Sammy, who sat back on his haunches, then aimed a look of contempt at the men. “You’re the worst kind of cowards. Sammy served his country bravely. You two wouldn’t know the first thing about that.”
Mace wadded up paper towels and stuffed them into the men’s mouths.
“C’mon,” he said to Laurel. “If the police get here before we leave, we’re in for a bunch of questions. I want to put a whole lot of gone between us and whoever is after you.”
“You read my mind.”
Mace hustled them out the back door. Rain spat from angry clouds, thin drops sharp with teeth that slashed at the skin.
Laurel climbed into the truck, Sammy on her heels. Once inside the cab, she heaved out a breath.
Mace drove out of the parking lot at a leisurely pace just as two police cars were pulling in.
Her sigh of relief echoed his own feelings. Though he believed in cooperating with the locals whenever possible, he hadn’t wanted to stick around. If it was the Collective who was after her, they were bound to have more men in the vicinity.
“I’d have liked to question those two some more,” she said, frustration ripe in her voice, “but they’re like the others, obviously low-level, probably don’t even know who sent them after us.”
She was right. The men hadn’t appeared to have the intelligence or the initiative to act on their own.
She angled herself toward Mace. “What now?”
“We keep heading for Atlanta.” He slanted a curious look in her direction and asked the question that had nagged at him since Shelley had told him of the assignment. “Why S&J? There had to be other security firms you could have hired.”
“I did some research and liked what I learned about S&J, especially that it’s made up of ex-military and law enforcement. In my book, that says a lot.”
The answer made sense. Yet he had the feeling there was more to it than that. He stored that away.
“I’m sorry about your mother.”
“Don’t be. We weren’t close.”
It was a cold answer, but he sensed there was more to it than what the few words conveyed. The expression in Laurel’s eyes told him that she wasn’t going to say anything more, at least not then. Another mystery.
None of his business. All he cared about was keeping her safe and learning whatever she knew about the Collective.
“You must be really important to have the Collective send three teams after you in one day.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Her lips lifted in a wry smile. “I’m beginning to think that the Stand was safer than Georgia.”
He grinned at her use of the military’s slang for Afghanistan. “You might be right.”
Mace’s smile died as memories assailed him. He’d returned to the States a different man from the callow boy he’d been when he’d enlisted.
He had watched buddies die, put up with orders that made no sense from politicians who had never stepped foot on a battlefield, and been betrayed by the woman he thought he loved. He’d endured all that and more.
But it was the unspeakable cruelties he’d witnessed that had soured his stomach and destroyed his faith.
FOUR
Mace sifted through impressions of his client. Strong. Stubborn. Full of secrets. Everyone was entitled to secrets. Including him. Especially him. He wouldn’t hold having secrets against Laurel, unless those secrets put him and her in danger.
The truck’s interior was too small to contain the tension that shimmered through the air. Granted, he and Laurel had just fought off yet another attack, but it was more than that. There was a coiled anticipation in her that made him want to stop the truck here and now and demand that she tell him what was going on. He pulled at his collar to rid himself of the cramped sensation, but to no avail.
Laurel must have found a safe place for her thoughts to inhabit as she didn’t attempt to break the silence that pulsed between them. Which was fine with him. He wasn’t ready to give voice to the maelstrom of thoughts that swarmed through his mind. He was still coming down from an adrenaline high, as he suspected she was doing, too. Taking on two tangos spiked the senses, then came the crash.
With an effort, he focused on the present. He had a job to do. Deliver Laurel to Atlanta and keep her safe.
After several attacks on her life in the last few hours, it was quickly becoming clear that keeping her safe meant stopping the Collective. From what he knew of the organization, it would hunt her relentlessly and then exact a price of retribution.
He could ask Shelley to assign another operative as Laurel’s bodyguard while he worked the investigative end of things. If that meant taking down more goons like the last ones, well, that was all right by him. His lips
tightened at the idea of men hunting her as though she were an animal.
Laurel would demand that she work with him. Though they’d known each other for only a few short hours, he already understood that she wasn’t one to stand on the sidelines. What had he expected? She was a Ranger, after all.
A frown worked its way across his face. The Collective wouldn’t go down easy. The members would fight with their last breaths, and they’d fight dirty. Did she know what they were capable of?
As soon as he posed the question, he had his answer. Of course she knew. She’d fought in Afghanistan, saw firsthand the inhumanity that hatred spawned. In the Stand, fear and cruelty ruled.
There were instances of exceptional courage, both on the part of American personnel and that of the Afghani people, who were, by and large, honorable and devoted to their families. It was the warlords and insurgents who had corrupted the country with ever-growing intimidation and terror. Their thirst to inflict their extremist beliefs upon others was unquenchable.
He’d put the horrors of that war away, only to sign on with S&J and take on a different kind of war—protecting innocents from those who would prey on them.
He had to convince Laurel to let him do the investigating while she remained in a safe house. Knowing that she’d undoubtedly raise a ruckus over that didn’t solve his problem. He worked best alone. Always had. He’d tell her, let her down easy. Maybe now would be the right time.
Before he could explain to her why she couldn’t work with him, she said, “You’re trying to figure out how to tell me that you’re going to cut me loose when we get to Atlanta and investigate on your own. Right?”
Caught, he nodded. “Something like that.”
“No way, Ransom. I’m in. All the way. It’s my life on the line.”
“S&J doesn’t let clients work with operatives.”
Even as Mace said the words, he knew he wasn’t being completely truthful. Other S&J operatives had worked with their clients, and four of those operatives were now married to those same clients.
Not that he had anything to worry about on that score.
“It’s a safety thing,” he said, wincing at the lame-sounding words. “Shelley Judd will assign another operative to act as your bodyguard, and I’ll start investigating. We’ll keep you safe and put an end to the Collective at the same time.”
“You really think S&J can stop the Collective?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But we can put a big dent in the organization.” Of that, he had no doubt.
He’d seen S&J’s operatives bring down some pretty big fish, including corrupt federal prosecutors, greedy union bosses, and dishonest newspaper publishers. When it came down to it, they were all the same: predators who stepped on others to get what they wanted.
“Why should you do the investigating?” Laurel asked, returning to the subject he preferred to leave behind. “Why not leave it to someone else?”
He had his answer ready. “I was with military police before I made Rangers.” That was weak, but he couldn’t tell her the real reason: he was attracted to her, so much so that he feared he’d lose his objectivity. The sooner he handed her over to another operative, the better.
For both of them.
“And I’ve had CID training,” she said. She didn’t add “so there,” but she might as well have.
The Criminal Investigation Department of the Army was among the best-trained law enforcement in the armed services. “When?”
“Before I made Ranger. I wanted to get as much experience under my belt as I could.”
“You must have started young.”
“I enlisted when I was eighteen.” A small shrug. “Seemed the right thing to do.”
She’d managed to surprise him. Again.
“We’ll be in Atlanta in another hour. You can tell your story to Shelley and Jake and we’ll take it from there.”
“Thanks for all you’ve done.”
Mace shrugged that off. “Save it for when I’ve actually done something.”
“You saved me from those lowlifes the Collective sent after me.”
“You and Sammy did a pretty good job of saving yourselves.”
Her gaze touched his, but for only a moment, before it darted away and a blush stole up her cheeks.
He’d spoken the truth. He had no doubt that Laurel could have taken on the teams of men by herself with Sammy as backup and come out on top. She had grit to spare. He liked that about her. In fact, he liked a lot of things about the lady.
The direction of his thoughts startled him. As though to negate them, he shook his head, refusing to go down that rabbit hole. As they said, Been there, done that.
* * *
Laurel wanted to do a happy dance in her excitement about meeting Jake and Shelley. At the same time, she wanted to weep for the years she had lost with them. Her brother and sister. She felt it. There would have to be tests, but her gut told her she was right.
She and Mace had made the rest of the trip to Atlanta with scarcely a word spoken between them. She was too wrapped up in anticipation, and Mace had lapsed into a brooding silence, the edge of a frown putting the beginning of furrows on his brow.
At her request, he had taken her to a hotel and, after checking in, she’d cleaned up, fed Sammy and then taken him for a walk.
Now, as she sat in Shelley’s office at S&J headquarters, she absorbed impressions of Shelley and Jake. They had an easy kind of give-and-take relationship that made her think of the families she’d dreamed of when she’d been a little girl.
Jake was tall and rangy while Shelley was petite, a bundle of energy that made her seem larger than her five-foot-nothing frame. Jake took his time making up his mind and spoke with slow deliberation; Shelley made snap decisions and didn’t mind letting everyone know what she thought.
Like two adjacent pieces of a puzzle, they fit. Would there be a place for her? Laurel wondered. Or was the puzzle an exclusive one, made only for two? She steered her thoughts from that emotional quicksand and concentrated on the present.
After introductions were made, including giving Sammy time to sniff Jake and Shelley and decide that they were all right, Laurel explained what had brought her here.
Concluding her story, she gestured to her backpack. “I have the ledger and money here. I didn’t want to leave it at the hotel.”
“Smart move,” Jake said.
Shelley leaned forward. “Can we take a look?”
In response, Laurel opened the pack, withdrew the ledger and money and handed them to Shelley.
Shelley flipped through the pages of the ledger. “Obviously encoded. We’ll put our encryption specialist on it.” She passed it to Jake.
While he looked at it, Shelley thumbed through a packet of hundred-dollar bills, a corner of her lip caught between her teeth. “Not a fortune,” she said, “but enough to steal.” At that, she flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that your mother—”
“It’s okay,” Laurel said and, like Shelley, tucked the corner of her lip between her teeth.
“I’m pretty sure she stole the money. That’s probably what got her killed.”
“I’m sorry,” Shelley repeated, and Laurel heard the sincerity behind the two words, “for your loss.”
Laurel shook her head. “We weren’t close.” Familiar pain pushed its way forward. As always, she pushed back.
Thoughts of Bernice and how she’d died intruded. Bernice, who’d always chased happiness with the wrong men. She’d played the victim card and attracted men who wanted to make her just that. In the end, it had gotten her killed.
Laurel caught the shared looks between Shelley and Jake and found herself not wanting to lie to them, to pretend that the relationship between Bernice and her was that of a loving mother and child.
Questions she’d parried throug
hout childhood and her early teen years came back to taunt her. Questions like “Why doesn’t your mom come to your school play?” and, worse, “Why is your mom so mean to you?”
She told herself that none of that mattered now and changed the subject. “I want in on the investigation. I was with CID for a time before I joined the Rangers. I can help.”
Mace bunched up his mouth, as though trying to contain the words that were itching to get out. When he finally spoke, it was in a carefully neutral tone. “I already told her that we don’t involve clients in the investigation. It’s too dangerous.”
Shelley steepled her fingers together. “With her background, Laurel could be an asset.” She turned an expectant gaze on Mace.
Mace trained cool eyes on Laurel. “Boss lady says you’re in, you’re in.” A muscle at the base of his neck flexed even as a flicker of annoyance skimmed over his face.
Laurel heard the reluctance in his voice and knew that while he wasn’t happy about the decision, he’d abide by it. Though he’d left the Rangers, he was still a soldier and that was what soldiers did: follow orders.
“Thank you,” she said to Shelley. “Thank all of you. I’d be grateful if you could keep the money and ledger here. I don’t want to carry it around with me. Too risky.”
“Good idea,” Shelley said. “I’ll put them in our safe.”
Mace stood. “Laurel’s dead on her feet. I’m taking her back to the hotel where she can get some shut-eye.”
Shelley gave Laurel a sympathetic look. “Of course. Don’t worry. Mace will keep you safe.”
Outside, Laurel realized how late in the day it was. The sun slid like melted butter below the horizon. On the drive back to the hotel, she closed her eyes, taking in all that had happened. Shelley and Jake were everything she had hoped for. And more. You had only to gaze into Shelley’s eyes to see the integrity shining there. The same went for Jake.
But something had held her back from telling them about the photo and sharing her belief that she might be their half-sister. She chewed on her lip when she recognized the source of her omission. Fear. She’d never lacked courage when it came to taking the fight to the enemy, but she was afraid to confide in Shelley and Jake.
Inherited Threat Page 4