by Cynthia Eden
Cale shook his head. “Not. Me.”
“Then someone’s sure doing a good job of pretending to be you.” Maybe that was it. Damn it, maybe... Because Cale’s code name was Striker. So why had Reed tacked on the “Two” handle? Because someone else was taking those missions? Someone who could be just as deadly as Striker? “Who is it? Who knows you well enough to trap you like this?”
Cale’s lashes lowered. “You mean a man who knows how I kill? How I hunt? Who knows where to find evidence that can incriminate me, even as he leaves no evidence behind that would ever link him to the crimes?” Cale looked up at Jasper. “Well, old buddy, your name is the first one that springs to mind.”
Hell.
“It’s not—” Jasper began.
The door flew open. Jasper whirled around. Sydney stood in the doorway, her cheeks flushed, her breath heaving. “Jasper, I need you.” Gunner was right behind her.
Casting one last, hard look at Cale, Jasper hurried from the room. Gunner slipped inside, resuming his guard duty.
“What is it?” Jasper asked her.
“We’ve got a problem.” She marched down the hallway, passed the small lobby area, then headed upstairs. This was her workspace. He knew that Sydney always liked privacy when she worked with her computers and—
A whistle slipped from him when he saw the destruction. “What the hell happened?”
She headed toward the laptop—Reed Montgomery’s laptop. The machine had been smashed, again and again, broken into sharp, hard pieces. Keyboard buttons were on the floor. It looked as if the machine’s hard drive had been hit repeatedly with a hammer.
“Someone didn’t want me seeing evidence,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “I don’t know if it was luck or whoever did this knew just what he was doing, but he smashed the platters inside the hard drive.” She looked back at Jasper. “It’s highly unlikely that I’ll be able to recover any information from this machine.”
“When?” A snarl from him.
“I was up here less than two hours ago. Logan wanted that intel on the shrink, so I had to leave before I could start processing the computer.”
Every muscle in his body was on high alert. “Only the EOD agents had access to this building.”
“The agents...” She nodded, but said, “The sheriff. The deputy...and Veronica Lane.”
He was already shaking his head. “It wasn’t her.”
“Maybe she was trying to help her brother, by hiding his guilt.”
“It wasn’t her.” And there it was...blind trust. The same kind of trust Veronica had for Cale. The same kind of trust she’d given to Jasper just twenty-four hours ago. He spun for the door. “Where’s the sheriff?”
“Gone.” Her footsteps rushed after him. “Both Wyatt and the deputy went out to do some patrols. Logan is looking for them now but...”
He glanced back over his shoulder.
“I think you should be the one who brings Veronica in for questioning,” Sydney said, eyes wide.
“It’s not her.” He knew it with every fiber of his being. But if it wasn’t Veronica, and Cale couldn’t have smashed the machine because he’d been in custody, then someone else out there was trying to make sure that Cale Lane wasn’t cleared.
“Someone is setting me up.” Yeah, Jasper was starting to believe Cale’s words.
“As soon as Logan finds the sheriff and deputy, I want to know.” He hurried down the stairs.
“Jasper! What about Veronica—”
“I’ll take care of her.” Sydney could interpret that any way she wanted.
Jasper grabbed his keys and raced out into the night.
* * *
VERONICA’S SHOULDERS HUNCHED as she walked. She was soaked through, and the wind and rain seemed to slap at her face with every step that she took.
She didn’t have a cell phone. It hadn’t been recovered after the crash at the ranch. And no one was on this road to help her.
People were too smart to be out in the storm.
The flash drive was still in her pocket. She’d been too afraid to leave it behind in the car. It was her only evidence. She had to hold on to it.
She heard the growl of a motor behind her. Yes. Finally someone! Veronica hurried back onto the road. The car was a good distance away now. She waved her arms as soon as the headlights hit her.
The headlights were so bright.
As bright as they’d been before, when the car had come rushing at her.
She froze, with her arms still over her head. The car wasn’t slowing. The driver had to see her, even through the rain, but he wasn’t slowing.
Veronica ran back toward the side of the road. Just as she left the pavement, she slipped in the mud and fell down hard. Mud soaked her clothes, and it felt as if her shoulder slammed into a rock, but she dragged herself forward to the row of trees near the edge of the road.
Behind her, brakes squealed as the car stopped. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. Maybe the driver had seen her. Maybe he was coming to help her and she was panicking over nothing.
Maybe.
Cautiously, she turned back around. Because of the darkness, she could see very little about the car. The vehicle seemed low to the ground, with a long hood and a stretching trunk, but she couldn’t determine the car’s color or make. Veronica inched a bit closer. “Hello?” she called out. The driver’s door had opened. She’d heard it creak.
And, over the rain and her racing heartbeat, she seemed to hear footsteps.
She pressed her muddy hands against her jeans. “Hello?” Veronica tried again.
But there was no response. She crept forward, just a little, and a sudden blast of gunfire ripped right past her head. Veronica slammed into the earth instantly.
Her breath heaved in her lungs. He shot at me. She remembered the eyes of the men who’d died before her.
Footsteps thudded toward her.
That was no Good Samaritan up there, coming to help a stranded motorist. Her instincts had been right about that.
Whoever it was out there...he was hunting her.
Carefully, she slid back into her cover. The line of trees was thin, and wouldn’t provide her much protection. She glanced to the left, to the right. If she tried to run away from the road, she’d be running straight into the middle of nowhere. And the shooter could just follow her. Then what would she do?
Die.
Her gaze went back to the road even as she began to creep to the left, a path that would take her away from the shooter’s car and—
Another shot blasted. Veronica stopped trying to creep away. He had a lock on her. Creeping wasn’t going to work.
So she just ran. Dodging left and right, the way her brother had always told her she should run if someone was ever shooting at her.
Another Cale Lane rule...“Never give ’em a steady target. The more you move, the harder it is for them to hit you.”
So she moved as fast as she could, dodging in between the trees, never moving in a straight line and praying, praying, that someone would come along soon to help her.
Then...then another vehicle’s rumbling engine cut through the wind and rain.
* * *
WHEN HE HEARD the gunfire, Jasper’s foot slammed down even harder on the accelerator. His windshield wipers sliced through the rain, and he kept a strong grip on the steering wheel. He hadn’t been able to reach Veronica at her home. The phone had just rung and rung. Every ring had made him more afraid.
There was another roll of thunder—no, hell, another blast of gunfire. He knew that familiar sound too well. He rounded a curve, headed hard and fast down the long, narrow road. He didn’t see anyone, not yet.
Then his lights cut across the darkness and the rain, and there was a shadow, a person, running right into the road. Running right at his vehicle.
He slammed on his brakes, and in that one frozen instant of time, Jasper was able to see her face.
Veronica. Terrified.
So afra
id that she’d just run right into the path of a car. He jerked the wheel to the left, determined not to hit her, and his rental car bounced twice, then came to a jarring halt in the thick sludge of mud on the shoulder of the road.
Grabbing his gun, he leaped from the vehicle. “Veronica!”
Before his booted feet could even touch the asphalt, a car came racing right by him, sending him leaping back. The car’s engine screamed and the smell of burnt rubber filled his nose. He had a fast impression of a black car, long and lean, slicing right through the night and rain.
No tag.
Then the car was gone. Rushing away into the night.
His fingers tightened around the handle of his gun. “Veronica!” he shouted again. He rushed into the road. He hadn’t hit her, he knew he hadn’t. Please, don’t let me have hit Veronica.
She slowly rose from the other side of the road. She walked toward him with trembling steps.
He ran to her. He grabbed her, making sure they were out of the road in case that maniac came back, and he held her as tightly as he could. “What the hell happened?”
She was soaked. Her clothes were caked with mud, and her hair hung in wet clumps around her face. She shook against him, and her fear made the rage inside Jasper burn even brighter.
“H-he... That car, it forced me off the road.”
What?
“Then th-the driver...he came back for me.” Her arms flew up and wrapped around his neck. “He shot at me. He tried to kill me...and I was so scared that I wouldn’t be able to get away.”
He shot at me.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you out of here.” He ran with her back across the road, put her inside his car, then did a quick check of the tires. They should be able to get out. If not, he’d claw their way out of that mud if he had to. Because he was getting her someplace safe.
He hurried back around to the driver’s side, jumped in, gunned the engine. He pushed his foot down on the gas, and, at first, the wheels just spun.
“That’s what happened to me,” she whispered. Her hands were in her lap. Her shoulders hunched.
Clenching his jaw, he tried again. The tires found traction, and the vehicle lunged forward. He drove fast and hard, even as he yanked out his phone to call Logan. The other agent answered the call on the second ring.
“I’m on Hawkeye Road with Veronica.” His words snapped out. “Some SOB in a black vehicle just took shots at her.”
“What?”
“Classic car, the kind that would stick out in a place like this,” Jasper said, his voice clipped. The length of the hood and trunk had been familiar to him. “No tags, but that car is going to be easy to track. Looked like an Impala.”
“On it,” Logan said. “You bringing her in?”
He slanted a fast glance at Veronica. Someone had tried to kill her. If he’d been just a few minutes later...
“I’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep her safe.” Because in that one instant, when he’d seen her on the road, her beautiful face illuminated by his headlights, fear so heavy on her features, everything had changed for him.
This wasn’t about a mission and not about a case. It wasn’t even about the poor men who’d lost their lives.
It was about Veronica. For him, she was the goal. Keeping her safe, keeping her alive and stopping the fool who thought that he’d hurt her.
Not on my watch.
Because until the EOD caught that guy, Jasper wasn’t leaving Veronica’s side.
Chapter Eleven
She entered the makeshift EOD headquarters with slow steps. Veronica knew that she looked like hell, but she didn’t care. She was pretty much just glad to be alive at this point.
Sydney’s eyes widened when she caught sight of Veronica, and she hurried toward her. “Are you hurt?”
A few scrapes and bruises didn’t qualify in Veronica’s mind, so she shook her head. Jasper stood behind her, and she was far too conscious of him, and of the deadly look in his eyes. She’d made the mistake of looking into that lethal stare a few moments before. She’d never seen that level of rage before, not from anyone.
He’d been silent after that phone call to the other agent, but she’d felt his anger. When she looked into his eyes, she could see his fury.
Veronica cleared her throat. “I’m going to assume that my brother is still under guard.”
Sydney nodded.
Veronica reached into her pocket and pulled out the flash drive. “Then you know he wasn’t responsible for the shots taken at me. Someone else is hunting in this town. Not Cale. And this...this can prove his story about heading down to the Caribbean to work a case.”
She handed the flash drive to Sydney.
A frown pulled Sydney’s brows together. “Where’d you get this?”
“From Reed Montgomery’s computer.” She shrugged. The mud felt cold and hard on her skin. “So I tampered with the scene. Lock me up if you—”
“No one is locking you up,” Jasper snarled immediately.
Sydney’s eyes widened. “That’s why the computer was smashed.”
What? Veronica shook her head. “Look, I called earlier and told Jimmy what I’d found. He was supposed to tell—”
The doors burst open behind her. Wyatt rushed inside, his face haggard. “Veronica!” He grabbed her and pulled her into a crushing hug. “Oh, damn, when Logan got me on the radio and told me about the attack...” He pushed her back, stared down at her with blazing eyes. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. She wasn’t going to let herself think too much about the bullet that had missed her head by about, oh, an inch.
Jasper clapped his hand down on Wyatt’s shoulder and jerked him back. “Where were you?”
“I— What?” Wyatt frowned at him. “Kyle Jamison’s house took a hit from the storm. A tree crashed into the side of his place. I went to see how he was, to make sure everything was all right.”
“And where’s your deputy?” Sydney asked him quietly.
Wyatt glanced back at her, brows rising. “Jimmy’s out patrolling. With the storms still running through the area, we needed to make sure folks here were safe. That no one was stranded anywhere.”
Stranded as she’d been. Stuck on the side of the road. Easy pickings.
No. Her shoulders straightened. Not so easy.
“Why are you checking on me?” Wyatt asked as his eyes suddenly narrowed. Then he looked over at Veronica. “Oh, no, you don’t think that I—”
“Evidence has been destroyed,” Sydney interrupted. “Evidence that only a few people in this town had access to.”
“What kind of evidence?” Wyatt wanted to know as he yanked a hand through his wet hair.
“Reed Montgomery’s computer. I think the killer smashed it to hell and back because he didn’t want us to find...” Sydney held up the flash drive. “This.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t destroyed anything. Why would I care about Reed Montgomery’s computer? I want you to catch any killers in my town. This is a safe place.” His voice dropped. “Or it was.” Raindrops trickled down the side of his face. “I came to Whiskey Ridge so I could get away from all the death and violence. I sure never thought it would follow me here.”
The door opened once more. Logan stepped inside. He swept a fast glance at Sydney, then at Jasper. The gaze he gave Wyatt held suspicion.
“I can’t seem to locate your deputy,” Logan said. “He won’t answer his radio or his cell.”
Wyatt’s chin lifted. “Jimmy’s probably just out of his car. Helping someone.”
“Maybe.” Logan’s tone said he doubted that possibility.
Wyatt’s gaze narrowed as he snapped to his full height. “You said someone shot at Veronica. Jimmy would never do that! The kid wants to keep everyone safe in this town. He’d have no reason to go after Veronica. She’s—”
“Did he tell you that I called?” Veronica asked because she had to know this.
Everyone went silent.
&
nbsp; She could hear the ticking of the clock on the desk in the lobby.
The lines on Wyatt’s face deepened. Confusion clouded his eyes. “What call?”
That was the answer that she needed, and the one that she dreaded.
Jasper eased closer to her. “Why did you call the sheriff?”
“Because I didn’t know your number.” Her shoulder lifted in a sad shrug. Jimmy. She’d tutored him when he was in high school. Little Jimmy Jones. His dad had been killed in the military, and his mom had always struggled to make ends meet. Struggled...until Jimmy had been eighteen; then his mother had cut out of town and left him behind.
She’d never come back.
Taking a deep breath, Veronica said, “I called Wyatt because I thought he’d believe me about the evidence I’d found.” She nodded toward Sydney’s hand and the small drive that the agent had gripped in her fingers. “I knew the evidence was also on the computer that had been taken from the scene. A file that Reed had. By itself, it’s not that much. I mean, it’s a start, anyway. Bread crumbs that can help lead us to what’s really happening.”
“When did you call?” Sydney wanted to know.
“I... Jimmy didn’t tell me that you called.” Wyatt’s voice was low now. She could see the suspicion in his gaze. When Jimmy had been left alone, Wyatt had stepped in. He tried to help the teen as much as he could. She knew Jimmy was a deputy because of Wyatt. Jimmy had wanted to be just like him.
And like Cale.
Cale had always been there for Jimmy, too. Teaching him to shoot. To hunt.
To...kill?
“When did you call?” Sydney repeated.
Veronica glanced at the clock on the desk. “About two hours ago.”
“Right before the computer was smashed.”
Jimmy? She just never would have suspected him. He still blushed when girls smiled at him. “The car that drove me off the road, it went back down Hawkeye, heading toward my house.”
“Probably because he was going to search for the evidence,” Jasper said, voice rumbling, “and when he couldn’t find it there, he went back to make sure you didn’t get a chance to tell anyone else about what you’d found.”
Logan closed the distance between him and Sydney. “Can you get a GPS track going on his phone?”