While she’d decided long ago that Nate was most likely precisely what he seemed, seeing the photos validated his claims. A hired assassin wouldn’t waste time sightseeing, walking the beach, and talking to joggers, would he?
“These are beautiful.” She glanced at him before returning her attention to the stack in front of her. “But why aren’t there any people?”
“I do better with nature. I’m not much of a people person.”
Really? Somehow, she found that hard to believe. “I suppose if someone were in the picture, you’d have to get their permission to use it. Complications.”
“Yeah.” He was quiet until she neared the bottom of the stack. “I saved the best for last.”
She uncovered the last photo and looked up at him before settling her gaze on the picture. As in all the others, vibrant colors painted the sky, but this picture had the silhouette of a runner at the water’s edge.
Her silhouette. She looked up to find him watching her closely.
“I took it a few nights ago, just before you saw me.”
“It’s great.”
Except that the shadows didn’t completely hide her face. Her features were dark, but it was still obviously her.
She’d made enemies during her career, some who likely hated her enough to want her dead.
What if one of them saw the picture and went after Nate in an effort to get to her?
She fought to keep her voice casual. “You’re not going to actually do anything with this, right?”
“Wasn’t planning on it. I snapped it on a whim.”
Thank goodness. A smile overtook her face before she could stop it. “Good.”
He shot her a strange look and she scrambled for an explanation.
“I don’t like drawing attention.”
“Huh. Well, if that’s your goal, you’re failing.”
“Uh, thanks.” The arrival of the pizza broke the awkward moment. “That smells good.”
“This place is the best.” Nate reached for the pizza and picked up one of the cheese slices. “So is taking care of your brother a full time job or do you have a career outside of that?”
She’d figured this would come up eventually. Good thing she’d already prepared an answer. “Right now, it’s full time, but I’m hoping things will get better soon. Most of the time I help out people like my brother. I guess you could say I’m a glorified babysitter.”
Okay, so maybe that was stretching things a little, but she couldn’t tell him the truth. Besides, catching fugitives did help law-abiding people like her brother, so technically it wasn’t a lie.
Somehow the justification did little to ease her conscience.
If anything, it weighed on her even heavier. The truth never needed justification.
“That’s cool. I couldn’t handle doing that kind of work.”
“It’s not exactly glamorous, but it I like it.” Time to shift the focus away from herself before he asked a more difficult question. “Did you always want to be a photographer?”
“Nah. I’ve always liked photography, but I never thought I’d actually make money doing it. I’ve worked all the basic jobs: fast food joints, toll booths, stuff like that. I spent a lot of my spare time taking pictures and finally sold some to a magazine. It’s gone up from there.”
“I can see why. You seem to know what to shoot.” She reached for a slice of pizza. “My dad played around with photography some before going into seminary. He had a terrible eye.”
“I think it’s something that’s acquired.” Nate stopped to take a drink of his root beer. “I forgot you told me your dad was a pastor. I guess you must be pretty religious.”
Was that a slightly confrontational tone she heard in his voice?
Might be wise to tread carefully. “I don’t know about that, but my relationship with God is very important to me.”
“If God’s as great as people say He is, why doesn’t He answer prayers? You know, remove someone from a bad situation?”
“Like when you were in the group home?”
“Yeah. I was a good kid, never picked a fight or made fun of the other guys the way they made fun of me, and I prayed. Every night. I wasn’t even asking for much, I just wanted the bullying to stop, but things got worse before they got better.”
A pained look flickered across his face. Probably still heard the taunts of the other kids.
“But things did get better eventually?”
“When I finally got a growth spurt, yeah.”
She smoothed the napkin she’d placed across her lap. “God doesn’t necessarily answer our prayers in the way or time we want Him to, but no prayer goes ignored. You said it yourself, it was rough, but it made you stronger. That might’ve been His plan all along.”
He studied her for a minute. “Well, it stinks.”
“Sometimes it does. But it’s always helped me to know that God goes through the bad times with me. No situation is too big or hard for Him to handle. I’ve seen Him do some pretty amazing things.”
“So He just plays favorites.” Nate took a big bite out of his pizza and studied her across the table.
“I’ve seen Him work in the lives of people who don’t follow Him, too. Life’s tough, but He’s there to carry us through the challenges.”
“I guess I’ll have to take your word on that one.”
His tone said he was skeptical. His face said the conversation was closed for now. But her gut said the issue was far from settled.
₪ ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪
“So how’d it go?” Reilly asked as she walked through the door.
“Geez, Ri, you make it sound like a date. It was just lunch with a friend. Were things quiet around here?”
“Stop trying to change the subject. He asked you to lunch, you accepted and even wore one of your good shirts. I’d call that a date.”
He looked so pleased she decided to let it go. “It went fine. I learned a lot and I don’t believe he poses any threat.”
“Wait. You mean to say you spent the whole time interrogating him?”
“That surprises you?”
“It shouldn’t.” He leaned back in his chair. “I guess I was hoping you actually liked him.”
“I do. He’s a nice guy.”
“What’s he like?”
Where did she even begin? Nate had revealed quite a bit about himself. “He likes to read, particularly American classics and biographies. He pretty much likes all music styles, but favors jazz and reggae.”
Reilly’s eyebrows shot up. “Kind of an odd combination.”
“He’s full of them. He likes action movies, but thinks society has grown too violent. He goes to the theatre fairly often, but then tells me he isn’t much of a people person. Honestly, I don’t know what to make of him.”
Just when she thought she had Nate figured out, he threw something new at her and she had to scrap her previous impression.
She was normally so good at reading people; why couldn’t she read him?
Reilly’s voice broke into her thoughts. “That doesn’t mean he’s up to no good. He’s just a little quirky. Like all of us.”
How did he do that? Know exactly what was on her mind and what she needed to hear?
Sometimes she thought he knew her way too well.
“Maybe. Or maybe he’s full of contradictions because he’s hiding a secret life as an assassin.”
Trusting him, even a little, was way too risky.
It wouldn’t be long before he realized she’d managed to reveal surprisingly little about herself.
And then he’d probably begin asking questions she couldn’t answer. At least not with any degree of honesty.
Before that happened, she needed to learn absolutely everything about him, his past, his work, and anyone connected to him in any way. If there were any skeletons lurking in his life, they would be unearthed.
₪ ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪
Persistent ringing wrenched Lana from a sleep that’d been painf
ully short.
She tugged her eyes open. The glowing bedside clock read 8:03.
Ugh. Why couldn’t they have called on a morning when she wasn’t coming off the graveyard shift?
She fumbled for the phone and tried to shake off the remnants of sleep.
The display lit with Barker’s name.
Sitting up, she answered the call seconds before it would’ve gone to voicemail. If he noticed the sleep-induced huskiness of her voice, he made no comment. Nor did he waste time with pleasantries.
“You alone?”
She glanced at Alex’s bed, barely able to discern its emptiness in the dim light.
Of course. Alex had been the one to relieve her at six a.m., which meant she was still standing guard in the living room.
“Yes, sir.”
“Still working on the people on your team, but that’s not why I called. Downplayed the severity of your situation, didn’t you?”
Was he referring to her getting shot? How could he possibly know about that?
He must’ve spoken to Alex’s supervisor, although she didn’t know why he would. If Alex wasn’t taking her suspicions seriously, her supervisor certainly wouldn’t either. “It’s just a flesh wound. I didn’t think–”
“Wait. What’s just a flesh wound?”
He didn’t know? Maybe her thinking was muddy from lack of sleep, but this wasn’t making any sense. “I was shot. Pushing Reilly down. The bullet grazed my arm.”
The silence seeped disapproval. “And you didn’t think that detail was worth mentioning?”
“I’m healing. Now what were you referring to?”
“The Shadow of Death.”
Psalm 23 slid into her mind, but she doubted Barker was quoting scripture. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m really not following–”
“The assassin. Also known as Stevens.”
Stevens.
The name squeezed her heart like the cold-blooded viper the hit man was known to be.
It couldn’t be him.
No. No, she must’ve misheard.
But deep down, she knew there was no mistake. Not only had Barker clearly said both the assassin’s name and the moniker law enforcement had given him, he would be a logical choice for someone with Rosetti’s power and wealth.
“Stevens doesn’t miss.” The argument sounded flimsy, even to her.
Stevens was good, but nobody was perfect. Logic dictated that sooner or later he would miss. Why not now?
“You got lucky.” Barker’s blunt statement mirrored her thoughts. “Face it, if you hadn’t looked outside when you did, he probably would’ve succeeded.”
She wanted to argue, but the wound on her arm evidenced how close she’d come to losing Reilly.
This could not be happening!
“So, you didn’t know?” Barker’s voice cut through her denial.
“About Stevens? No. How would I?”
“Maxwell knew. I figured he would’ve told you.”
Alex’s boss knew they were facing one of the worst threats possible and had chosen to withhold that information?
The idea that Maxwell might be working for Rosetti resurfaced like bad leftovers.
The orders to remain in Lincoln City had come from Maxwell. Orders that Alex and her team seemed to think were unusual. And he knew all the details about where they were staying. Leaking their location would be simple.
“How did we get this information?”
“The guy sharing Garrett’s cell. He said Garrett was spouting off on how he wouldn’t be in there long because someone had hired Stevens to take care of the problem.”
“And he’s reliable?”
“We can’t take the chance that he isn’t.”
True enough. Besides, what little evidence they’d recovered from the crime scene supported the Stevens theory. The casings, the time of day, even the fact that he hadn’t attempted to take out anyone but Reilly all fit Stevens’ MO.
Perfectly.
Her thoughts flitted back to Alex’s boss. “Are you sure Maxwell knew?”
“Yeah. Prison records confirm he met with Garrett’s cellmate.”
So many questions, but Barker had his own workload to manage and she didn’t have time to go through each of the questions that dogged her.
Like how Barker had come across this information.
Why Maxwell hadn’t told them who had been hired.
What Barker intended to do now.
What the penalty would be if she just took Reilly, ducked security, and went on the run.
Focus. “How well do you know Maxwell?”
“Look, kid, I know where you’re going with this and I’m telling you, don’t. He’s well-respected and has been doing this job a long time.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a price.”
“And it doesn’t mean he’s dirty. I’ll handle this. You focus on keeping our witness safe.”
Her hand shook as she set the phone on the nightstand.
Stevens.
The name echoed in her mind.
Such a simple name. Common even.
Yet belonging to one of the world’s best assassins, a monster that traded human life for money.
Suffocated by the air surrounding her, she struggled to draw in oxygen.
Worrying about the integrity of the people around her was bad enough, suspecting Alex’s boss might be involved was even worse, but this… it didn’t get much uglier than knowing a hit man like Stevens pursued them.
Going to sleep now was out of the question.
She slid out of bed, grabbed some clothes and prayed her way through a shower. Tears mingled with the water running down her cheeks.
It seemed impossible.
Stevens had never been photographed. No one had ever seen him and lived to give a description. Stevens could be a first name, last name, nickname, or pseudonym. For that matter, they didn’t even know for sure that Stevens was a man.
How could she possibly hope to protect Reilly from someone with no identity?
Trust God.
Worrying didn’t accomplish anything except to demonstrate a distinct lack of faith. God was bigger than this problem.
She managed to get her tears under control, but not the fear that had caused them. Not even reminding herself of all God had done throughout history could banish that. Because shielding them from an assassin was surely more difficult than creating the universe, parting the sea, or raising the dead.
Why did it have to be so hard to leave her problems in God’s hands?
₪ ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪
After pulling her damp hair into a messy bun, Lana headed toward the living room. Alex sat in one of the chairs, watching some program with the volume turned so low it was a wonder she could actually hear it.
“Have you heard anything from Maxwell?”
Alex glanced up as Lana sank into the sofa cushions opposite her.
“Not since the shooting.” Alex’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Lana. “What are you doing up anyway? You got, what, two hours of sleep?”
If that. “Barker called. I couldn’t sleep after that.”
“Really? What’s going on?”
“He knows who’s been hired to kill Reilly.” Lana fought the pressure building behind her eyes. “It’s Stevens.”
Several seconds passed. The narrowing of Alex’s eyes confirmed she’d heard the words and the tilt to her head said she was processing it. “Good to know.”
That was it? “We’re talking about Stevens. The Shadow of Death. You know the one, right?”
“Who doesn’t?” Alex rolled her head from one shoulder to the next. “Over two dozen confirmed hits, no witnesses, no sightings. Yep, I know the one.”
“This is bad. The man is practically a ghost! He never fails.”
“Oh and we do? Yeah, Stevens isn’t the best news we could’ve gotten, but we can handle him. I’m not about to be the first deputy to lose a witness and your brother sure as heck isn’t going to be
the first rule-abiding witness to die under protection.”
There was no way Alex could guarantee that. Not definitively.
But she appreciated the pep-talk nonetheless. “Thanks for trying. But–”
“No buts. Besides, this is a good thing. We may not know what he looks like, but we know how he operates. Always strikes at dusk with a high-powered rifle, kills with a single heart shot. Since we know what to watch for, we can better prevent future attacks.”
True. Even though Stevens posed a formidable threat, there was power in knowing the enemy.
“Best of all–” Alex’s voice cut through her thoughts. “He doesn’t go after family. Your parents are safe.”
The one bright spot in all of this.
Now there was just the question of why she’d heard about it from Barker.
The question had to be asked, but how could she say it without sounding accusatory? “So, uh, I guess Maxwell knew about this. Why wouldn’t he tell you?”
Alex hesitated. “Maybe with everything that’s happened, he hasn’t gotten around to it.”
What, because it took so long to pick up the phone and say “Stevens was hired”?
She stamped down the cynical thought. “So. We know who we’re dealing with. What are we going to do now?”
The question hung in the air for several seconds. “We’ll change our strategy. Alter Reilly’s appearance. Maybe you could swing by the store and pick up what I’ll need to make it happen.”
“Okay. But after that?”
Alex offered a half shrug. “We’ll do what we’ve been doing. With any luck, we can change his appearance enough to confuse even the best assassin.”
Given that the best had been hired, she could only hope Alex succeeded.
Of course, all that would only work if the people with them could be trusted. If there was a mole, then changing Reilly’s appearance wouldn’t solve anything since the mole could pass that information along to Rosetti or Stevens.
“How does Reilly feel about contacts?”
“He used to wear them, but stopped a few years back. I think he decided they were too much trouble or something.”
“Well, he’s about to change his mind on that one. I’ll see what Maxwell can do about getting that prescription updated, filled, and overnighted to us. We’ll probably go with colored lenses.”
Deadly Alliances Page 16