“I try to help people,” Cassandra said.
“So do I. Sit, please. To tell the truth, I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the conversation, but this is the best I’ve felt all day.”
“Soon you’re going to feel even better,” Gabe promised, sliding a plate onto the bar and inserting himself between her and Cassandra. “Once you get some food in you.”
Not knowing if he’d betrayed her confidence or not, Renata had to force herself to pay attention to the food. “Smells good.”
“Best potato-crusted chicken in town. So what have you two been chatting about?”
What was his voice so tight about? Renata wondered, taking a bite of the chicken. She dug in.
Cassandra said, “Your colleague and I were simply getting to know each other.”
“Colleague?” Gabe repeated.
“What? I was just saying hi.”
Talking with her mouth full, Renata asked, “What am I missing here?”
“Nothing!” they both said at once.
She swallowed. “I don’t need ESP to tell me that’s not exactly true. So spill.”
Renata didn’t think Gabe would, but then he caved. “Remember I said there were a few people at the club who could help you?”
“Right. You told me Blade there used to be Special Ops.”
Renata glanced at him and Blade gave her a thumbs-up. Suddenly that newfound appetite was lost. She set down her fork and stared at Gabe meaningfully.
He cleared his throat. “Well, Blade and the owner, Gideon, and Cass and I have had some experience helping people out of jams in the past.”
“So you’re all what?” Renata asked, looking around from one to the other. “Private investigators?”
“Not exactly. I wanted to tell you before but I didn’t think you would be too receptive.”
Renata listened in amazement as Gabe gave her a rundown of cases handled by Team Undercover. Helping an escaped convict find the real murderer. Protecting a woman who’d been kidnapped and threatened with death. Proving that the prime suspect in a murder case was innocent.
By the time Gabe was through, Renata was wondering what in the world she’d gotten herself into simply by agreeing to let him tag along with her.
“Don’t look at me like I have two heads,” Gabe pleaded.
He was wearing his charming smile, but this time Renata wasn’t impressed. She was worried that she’d made a huge mistake in agreeing to anything. That handcuff idea was looking better and better. Her idea, not his.
“Why didn’t you tell me all this before, Gabe?”
“I tried to, but you weren’t receptive to my bringing anyone else in, so I figured it could wait.”
“Until what? Until I got desperate enough to do whatever you suggested? For Pete’s sake, I only agreed to let you in a couple of hours ago!” she said heatedly. “What else are you planning behind my back?”
Though Renata hated the feeling that she’d been tricked, she tried to keep her temper in check.
“Listen, if you want to check us out with someone you can trust,” Cassandra said, “talk to Detective John Logan or Detective Stella Jacobek. They’re both in Area 4 now.”
“Jacobek?” Renata echoed.
“Right.”
Renata looked from Cassandra back to Gabe. “I don’t appreciate being conned.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You put Stella Jacobek up to calling me.”
“Stella called you?” Cassandra asked. “When?”
“Today.” As if she didn’t know.
“Renata, honestly, we haven’t brought her in on this,” Blade said. “She must have called because she was assigned your case and was following up after the attack.”
“We,” Renata echoed, looking from Blade to Cassandra to Gabe. She noticed he hadn’t denied it, and was trying to cover an expression that looked an awful lot like guilt. “Meaning you brought them in on this case, even though you weren’t in on the case.”
“You don’t understand. They knew about the case before I offered my services,” Gabe said. “That’s it.”
Hating the fact that he’d lied to her—or that he’d not told her everything at the very least—she slid off the stool. “I’ll see myself home.”
“I don’t think so.” Gabe stood in her way, his expression serious for once. “You’re not safe.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“And now whoever is after you knows that and won’t underestimate you again.”
A shiver crept up her spine. “So what do you suggest I do about it?”
“Come home with me.”
Renata laughed and shook her head. “You’re a trip, Gabriel Connor, but I’m off this train.”
She headed for the door, but he was right behind her. When he took her arm in a deceptively light grip, she was tempted to show him what a bad idea touching her could be…but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She’d had enough violence in the last few days. She didn’t exactly trust Gabe, but he had put himself on the line for her—she couldn’t forget that.
That thought calmed her enough so that she got in his car without further argument.
But the fifteen-minute drive to her place was any thing but soothing. Tension wired between them. Tension that increased when he found a parking spot right in front of her building and insisted on coming up with her. Though it was built to hold about a dozen people, the elevator car felt too small with him in it.
“How much do you trust me?” he asked suddenly.
“About as far as I can throw you.”
“After seeing you in action this evening, I would bet that’s pretty far, then.”
“You’d be wrong.”
He pushed it. “Am I?”
The elevator stopped on the third floor and the doors opened. Renata stepped out, feeling as if he were breathing down her neck when he followed her to her door.
“This is over, Gabe. You’re off the case.”
“No.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Why couldn’t he just back off and simplify her life?
“I trust you want to help sort out the truth,” she said. “I don’t trust why.”
“I told you—”
“Only what you want me to know. Some mysterious person you cared about was needlessly killed. I get that. But just as sure as you left out the fact that you weren’t alone in this, you’ve left out identifying that person.”
His response—“Trust yourself, Renata”—irritated her.
“What does that have to do with you?”
“You trusted your instincts when it came to the City Sniper. Despite all the opposition, you went on with your own investigation. You even accepted my help. If you thought I was a danger to you, you would’ve steered clear. You have good instincts. Trust them.”
He was so close she couldn’t think clearly. When he turned it on, his appeal was compelling. She wanted to trust him. Did that mean she was sure of her own instincts? Or merely being foolish?
Truth be told, she needed to trust someone. She was too new at this. Too uncertain of her own skills. Too afraid she would miss something.
But she wasn’t afraid or uncertain of her instincts.
In the end, she said, “What choice do I have?”
“Not exactly the ringing endorsement I was hoping to hear, but I’ll take it.”
They stood at her door at an impasse until Gabe’s stare got to her. His lids lowered over his green eyes, and his expression shifted to one that twisted her insides and made it hard to breathe.
What was wrong with her?
How could she possibly be so attracted to someone who’d been conning her?
He touched her face and she felt burnt where skin met skin. Her pulse accelerated so fast she could hear the whoosh of blood through her head and feel the thump of her heart against her breastbone.
She couldn’t help herself. As if mesmerized, she rea
ched out and touched him, as well. Her palm met his chest and she felt a heartbeat that rivaled her own.
“You saved my life tonight,” he said softly. Thanks. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything, not when you could have been killed defending me.”
“On the contrary.”
He stepped closer, crushing her hand between them so she could feel heartbeats in tandem.
“I got you into this!” she gasped. “A civilian.”
“And interested party. And I got myself here, remember. That person I told you about—the one killed because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time—was my kid brother Danny. He was shot to death.”
Renata blinked and her eyes stung with the pooling of tears. So he did know what it was like to lose someone he loved to violence. Her dad…his brother…a connection that moved her.
“Oh, Gabe, I’m so sorry.”
“I do believe you are,” he murmured, tracing the corner of her eye with his thumb.
She turned her head into his hand, pressed her cheek to his palm, and it was then, when she felt soft and vulnerable and teary-eyed, that he kissed her. Not the deep, wet kiss of a lover, but the gentle brush of his lips over across hers. Another brush, this one less tentative, but as if he were giving her the chance to pull away. When she didn’t, he took her more fully in his arms and his mouth covered hers, as if demanding entrance.
She gave way, opening to him, gladly receiving the thrust of his tongue. Her body responded, quickly awakening, acknowledging that she was still alive. That they both were. They’d beat a life-or-death situation and the importance of that hit her fully only now.
Gooseflesh spread along her limbs as she imagined just how they could celebrate. Her nipples tightened in anticipation.
For a moment, she thought Gabe might do more than simply touch her. For a moment, she thought he might try to seduce her right here in the hallway.
And then, just as Renata was going to reach around behind Gabe, unlock the door and push him inside where they could undress each other, Gabe let go of her and backed off.
Renata stood there, staring at him for what seemed like forever, until he backed off farther toward the elevators, one hand raised. She couldn’t believe that he meant to go.
A reprieve.
For the moment.
She wouldn’t bet this one kiss was all there would be between them.
HE WAITED IN the shadows across from the Fox woman’s apartment building, not knowing why he was still here. Never return to the scene of the crime unless the circumstances necessitate doing so. He’d broken his own rule. That’s what came of looking for the easy way out.
Of course, he thought she’d be easy. Unaware and unprepared.
Perhaps she was charmed. Whatever her edge, it was working for her…for now.
He saw the man who’d escorted her home the last two nights and who had helped create the debacle in Chinatown leave the building.
Not a lover, then.
Good. No personal interest. Probably a hired bodyguard.
The man stopped at his car and beeped it unlocked. He even opened the door. But then he stood there, as if he sensed something amiss. Warped light shone down on the man’s face, illuminating features that were familiar if not readily identified.
Where had he seen them before?
It would come to him, he thought, as the man finally slid behind the wheel and swung the door shut.
After the car pulled away from the curb, he gave thought to entering the building and Renata Fox’s apartment. But no doubt she had locked up as tight as a fortress. And no doubt she slept with her gun under her pillow.
He would have to catch her unawares…the bodyguard, too…
There was always tomorrow.
Chapter Seven
Renata lost sleep over the Chinatown incident and the knowledge that Gabe had told strangers her business against her wishes. And she’d lost that sleep over Gabriel Connor himself.
If he hadn’t backed off last night….
Her head might tell her one thing about getting closer to him, but her body seemed to have its own mind. She tossed and turned and wondered what making love with him would have been like. Bad enough that he distracted her when they were together. Now he was disturbing her dreams.
The next morning, tired and cranky, she arrived at the office to find a young blond reporter had discovered the back way in via the loading dock.
“Agent Fox,” the reporter said, getting between her and the door. “The public would like an update on your report about the City Sniper.”
“No comment.”
“After raising all this fuss in the media, you have no comment? Surely there’s something you want to say to justify your stance.”
“Please move away from the door,” Renata ground out, trying at least to pretend to be polite.
“Has your job been threatened?”
Renata wanted to threaten the reporter. She was in no mood for this. Instead of arguing with her, she marched around the front way and past several other media types who were still camped in the vestibule.
“Agent Fox, wait!”
“How has your report affected your status with S.A.F.E.?” asked a man who stuck a mike in her face.
“Is the investigation ongoing?”
“No comment!”
Luckily, the security guards held the reporters at bay while Renata escaped through the metal detectors and into an elevator. To further her bad mood, Tag Garvey was sitting on the edge of her desk waiting for her.
Great. What a way to start her day.
She forced a smile. “What can I do for you, Tag?”
“Not a thing. I’m simply delivering a message.”
“From?”
“Director Mulvihill. He wants to see you ASAP. You screwed up big-time, Fox.” Tag slid off her desk and stepped closer to her in what she considered a threatening manner. “The only thing I regret is that I couldn’t have the pleasure of blowing the whistle on you myself.”
“For what?”
“You shot a man yesterday.”
Renata started. She hadn’t expected anyone here to know yet. “In the line of duty.”
“Really?” Tag’s grin widened. “Don’t keep the boss waiting.”
Aware that keeping Mulvihill waiting wouldn’t be politic, Renata did an about-face. She hated giving Tag the upper hand and a reason to gloat. But what else was she to do?
On the way to Mulvihill’s office, she tried not to panic. She’d been prepared for this. She just hadn’t expected the information to get channeled the director’s way so fast. She pulled out her cell phone to check for messages. Of course there was one from an unhappy sounding Mulvihill.
She slipped the cell into her pocket and entered the man’s office.
The director was on the telephone and he held out a hand, indicating she should wait. The call sounded personal. His wife, she thought, tuning out. Mulvihill kept her waiting and wondering for several minutes. When he hung up the phone, he didn’t seem in any hurry to get to her. Busying himself with some folders on his desk, he kept her standing there like a student who’d just earned a detention.
Biting back her irritation, she calmly said, “Sir, I was told you wanted to see me?”
Mulvihill flicked her a glance, closed the folder he’d been perusing so casually and asked, “What the hell happened last night?”
“I defended myself in an attack.”
“What were you doing in Chinatown during work hours?”
He already knew the answer to that, Renata thought, saying, “Following up on the sniper case.”
“The case is closed.”
“I don’t agree.”
“You aren’t in charge.”
“Sir, I respectfully ask that you hear me out.” Renata sucked in a big breath, then pitched him rapid-fire. “I take my work very seriously. I take my commitment to the people of this country equally seriously. You gave me a job to do and I
intend to see it to its end.”
Mulvihill drummed his fingers on the desktop and stared at her for a moment before asking, “Are you telling me you won’t quit poking around, even though I’ve closed the case and ordered you to move on?”
Renata thought it provident that she not respond.
“Very well, then,” Mulvihill said. “I’m going to suggest you take a couple of personal days to cool off. If you don’t, you’ll leave me no choice but to suspend you from active duty until this situation is sorted out.”
“But, sir, there are protections—”
“Not in this case, because I wouldn’t be suspending you for blowing the whistle on the operation. The suspension would reflect your refusal to take orders. It’s called insubordination.”
Considering the circumstances, Renata knew she wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. And even if she did, recent history had shown it was nearly impossible to prove one was being punished for whistle-blowing to the court’s satisfaction.
“I’ll be glad to take a few personal days.”
“I thought you might. And while you’re off, think about what you’ve done,” he said, as if she were a naughty child. “You have no loyalty, Fox. The people you work with are the same people who watch your back. But you have to earn their trust. You can’t betray them and expect them to support you. As it is, who’s going to watch your back now?”
He was correct, of course. She was alone in this, at least at S.A.F.E.
Now she knew how her dad had felt when accusations had been made about him. She didn’t want to think about how the scandal had affected him. How it had all ended.
In the meantime, there was no use arguing with Director Mulvihill or with Paul Broden or with Tag Garvey, who was taking such a negative personal interest in her situation.
Thankfully, she had Gabe to watch her back.
And maybe his friends, as well, she conceded.
While she’d poked around the apartment the night before, straightening things that needed no straightening, cleaning things that were already clean, she’d thought about Gabriel Connor and Team Undercover, as he’d so jokingly referred to his colleagues.
Truth be told, she’d liked the talkative Cassandra despite the mumbo jumbo thing the woman had going on. And Blade had seemed quietly in control—his Special Ops training, no doubt. She hadn’t met Gideon, so she had no opinion of him, but the others seemed to respect him. And despite her protests to the contrary, she did trust Gabe, at least in the respect that he wanted to help her.
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