by Robin Perini
“He could get fired for not reporting,” Zane Westin murmured behind them. “Especially since it’s Archimedes.” The operative specialized in electronic surveillance, but his bulk made Lyssa wonder at his other skills. He looked nearly as dangerous as Rafe.
“It’ll be obvious the body has been there for twenty-four hours,” Elijah interjected. The forensics expert carried some sort of large case. “Even the county medical examiner could figure that out based on core body temp, much less the FBI task force.” He snapped on his gloves. “When can I get inside?”
“Reid should be here by now,” Noah muttered, glancing at his watch.
Narrow lines of worry deepened between his brows causing prickles of alarm to raise on Lyssa’s arms.
Behind her, Rafe, or the enforcer as she’d come to think of him, adjusted his eye patch. “Maybe the leak has him running cautious.”
“Could be.” Noah checked his phone again.
The streets had grown quieter; rush hour had ended. Lyssa shifted her position again. The men remained completely still, as if they were used to waiting endlessly. She couldn’t tamp down the tension. She twisted her fingers and scooted forward.
Noah tugged her back by the coat. He gave her a slight smile. “We’ve got this.”
“I know what’s up there,” she said. “What if Archimedes is watching?”
Noah turned to Zane, who studied his laptop. “You ID’d the street’s security and traffic cameras?”
The computer expert nodded. “A couple of subjects have come into view based on the anemic descriptions of Archimedes. None of them stayed. All of them met someone and walked off. Archimedes is a loner. He’s not here. Not in view.” Zane adjusted his screen. “By the way, I hacked into the system. I have control of the cameras now.”
Noah grinned. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
“I never knew you cared.” Zane tapped a few keys. “Still nothing. Reid’s nowhere in sight.”
Lyssa chewed on her lower lip. She had a bad feeling. She chanced a look at Noah.
His expression had grown solemn. Another scan of his phone. “Turn the cameras off, Zane. I don’t want a record of Lyssa returning to that apartment. Not while the body is there.”
Zane hit a few keystrokes. “Done.”
“We can’t wait for Reid any longer. Let’s move out.”
Elijah took point. He’d slipped his forensics case into a box and walked across the street as if he belonged. His entire demeanor had changed. Head bowed, he gave the impression of someone exhausted, going home from work, maybe who’d just been fired.
Noah placed his arm around Lyssa’s shoulders and pulled her against his side. His warmth drove away the chill from the weather, but with each step across the sidewalk, then into the street, she tensed against him. She had to stop; she needed to look around.
Her feet stopped moving. He pushed her forward, smiling down at her. “We’re lovers,” he whispered into her ear. “We’re going home, and that old woman thinks we’re eager to do the horizontal mambo. She’s jealous.”
He kissed the tip of her nose and led her toward the apartment building. “Relax. Almost there.”
She tried. She wanted to sink into the heat of him, to forget everything and let him lead, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t allow herself to be vulnerable and unaware. If she’d been better prepared, better trained, she could have done something the night Archimedes attacked. Maybe Jack would still be alive. Maybe they would be a family, with a white picket fence, a baby and another on the way.
Ultra-aware of the movements around her, she caught sight of Rafe and Zane moving in opposite directions, then circling back. If she hadn’t been watching for them, she would never have seen the tactic. These guys knew what they were doing.
Lyssa tried not to have too much hope, but a small fire ignited to life in her gut. Not big—she’d been singed before—but enough of a spark that she wondered if she might actually get out of this alive. She’d fully expected her confrontation with Archimedes to end with at least one of them dead, probably both.
As long as Archimedes couldn’t hurt anyone else she loved, Lyssa could live with that. But now, maybe... She clung to Noah. He tightened his hold in return. She hadn’t felt this way for a long, long time. Not since Archimedes had found her and forced her to make the toughest decision of her life.
Once they entered the apartment building, the subterfuge ceased. They headed straight up the stairs and down the empty hallway.
“Key?” Noah held out his hand. She gave it to him. He rotated the lock and pushed in the open door.
He stepped into the room, then stilled. Lyssa knew exactly what he saw. The memory of Gil’s body and mutilated face had burned itself into her brain.
After several seconds he faced her, his expression completely calm except for a fury blazing in his eyes. Then the rage fled, replaced with a sympathy that made Lyssa’s throat thicken as the emotions she’d fought to suppress resurfaced.
“You don’t have to come in,” he said, his deep voice soft and laced with compassion.
Part of her wanted to run, part of her always wanted to run, but she refused to give in. Archimedes had won too many battles. No longer.
“You might need me,” she said, following him into the apartment.
“What a psycho,” Elijah muttered, walking past her and kneeling next to the body.
“Search all the rooms,” Noah ordered. “Look for anything out of place.”
Zane and Rafe fanned out, beginning with the kitchen. Lyssa couldn’t take her gaze away from Gil. Noah grabbed Lyssa’s shoulders and turned her toward him. “Don’t.”
“I can handle it,” she said, shrugging away from his grasp. “I have to.”
She faced the room, forcing herself to study each shelf, each generic knickknack, each bit of decor she’d added to allay the landlord’s suspicions she might have something to hide. There had to be a clue.
Nothing stood out.
“I don’t notice—”
“Damn it,” he whispered under his breath, gripping her arm and stepping back. He pulled out his phone and hit a couple of codes. “Zane,” he called. “Get in here. Elijah, finish fast.”
Lyssa froze at the urgency in his voice. What did he see?
Zane exited the bathroom and Noah tilted his head toward the living room. “We’ve got eyes. Check out the ivy.”
Lyssa followed his gaze to the plant stand in the corner of her living room. A round electronic lens sat tucked on the edge of the pot.
“A camera?” she asked. Her body shivered. “Someone’s watching? Now?”
“Move it, Rafe,” Noah shouted. “We’re on the clock.”
Zane pulled out a palm-size screen. “Your jam is working. Audio and video.” He studied the device, then hooked his handheld to one of the wires. Furiously he tapped his screen. “Come on, just a little longer.”
His fingers quickened, but he started shaking his head. “I can’t trace it. He has the signal bouncing all over the world.” Finally Zane shoved the gadget into his pocket and disconnected the camera with a scowl. “He’s good. Maybe I learned a few of his tricks.”
“It better be more than a few,” Noah said. “We can’t afford to miss any opportunities. He knows we’re onto him. If you know his ploys, he knows some of yours.”
“You’re sure it’s Archimedes and not WitSec?” Lyssa asked, praying. She might be embarrassed that she’d run through the living room first thing in the morning with little more than a pair of panties on, but it was better than the alternative. Archimedes watching. “How long has it been there?”
“WitSec doesn’t have the funds to set up this kind of toy.” Zane knelt in front of the plant. “When’s the last time you watered it?”
“Yesterday morning b
efore work,” she said.
“Then my guess is Archimedes set this up when he killed your handler. He had a lot of time in this apartment. He wanted to see you find the body. Bastard probably gets off watching you be afraid.” Zane snagged the camera and slipped it into a plastic bag. “I’d like to turn the tables on him.”
Noah’s warm body stepped in close behind hers, pulling her against him. Despite her need to stay strong, Lyssa shivered at his nearness. She couldn’t stop herself. She leaned into his comforting strength. She’d been fighting this battle alone for so very long. “He’s sick.”
“And obsessed.”
Rafe came out of the bedroom. “The room’s clean except for one anomaly. Lyssa, did you move your jewelry box recently?”
Lyssa placed her hand at her throat. “Yes.”
“Then we’re clear except the hall closet. Do you normally keep it locked?”
The question sent unease rolling through her. “I didn’t even know it locked.”
Noah’s posture stiffened. “Stay with Rafe,” he said softly.
Noah and Zane walked down the hall. Lyssa couldn’t keep away. She had to know. Rafe’s intense presence shadowed her. She peeked around the corner. Noah knelt down and in seconds sprang the knob free.
“He’s the best,” Rafe whispered. “Does that like he was born breaking and entering.”
Noah opened the door.
A man’s body tumbled into the hallway. She recognized the military cut, the square of his jaw. “Reid!”
Lyssa shoved forward and knelt beside Noah. The U.S. Marshal had been bound and gagged, his head bashed in, blood soaking his shirt.
Lyssa’s hands placed her fingers on his wrist, searching, praying for a pulse. He looked too pale.
Noah tore off the duct tape. “Who did this, buddy?”
Reid’s eyes flickered. “Warn...” was all he said before his head lolled to the side.
“Oh, God.” Lyssa placed her hand over his chest. She could barely detect a heartbeat.
Noah leaned over and pressed two fingers against the man’s carotid artery. “He needs an ambulance. Fast.”
Zane tapped his earpiece. “Well, he’s going to get help sooner than we expected. Someone called in an attack to this address. Cops are on their way.”
Noah’s expression turned to stone. “We’ve been set up. Out now.”
Lyssa grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into him. “You aren’t going to leave Reid, are you?”
She couldn’t believe this. Jack had said Noah was loyal. She’d believed it. Had she been wrong about him?
He faced her. “Archimedes knows you have help. He knows we’re here. If we get hauled down to police headquarters, he knows where to find you.” Noah knelt by Reid, checking his pulse again. “An ambulance is coming. Elijah will make sure Reid makes it to the hospital, but we have to go.” He looked at Elijah. “You get photos of the body?”
The forensics specialist nodded.
“Then we’re out of here.”
Zane peered out the window. “Black-and-whites. We’re out of time.”
“Take the fire escape,” Noah ordered her.
Lyssa climbed onto the landing, his words finally sinking in. She paused. “Archimedes knows about you. Oh, God. What have I done?” She should never have called Reid. She should have done this alone. She was a fool.
Noah frowned at her. “Don’t go shaky on me now, Lyssa. He would have known soon anyway. Hopefully it will irritate him enough he’ll make a mistake.”
“He hasn’t yet, Noah.” Lyssa took a deep breath, regret weighing heavy on her shoulders. “You’re all in danger. I’m so sorry...”
Noah climbed a few steps down the ladder on the side of the building. “But we also learned that his obsession has escalated. He never left cameras before. He’s getting desperate, and desperate men make mistakes. It’s only a matter of time.”
A matter of time before more people died. Lyssa didn’t know if she could live with any more of Archimedes’s “messages.”
She peered over the side of the building, down the rickety fire-escape ladder. Noah stared up at her, his stance confident, waiting for her, ready to catch her. She looked into his chocolate brown eyes.
Noah emitted certainty with every decision, every move, and Lyssa only knew one thing for sure. Now that Noah was in her life, he wouldn’t willingly leave. Not as long as he breathed.
When she’d decided to confront Archimedes, she’d thought she’d be on her own—like always. Then Noah had come into her life. She’d been so determined she hadn’t considered she’d be putting him and his team at risk.
What had she done?
* * *
THE FIFTY-INCH monitor flickered in the darkness. Archimedes sat forward in a leather chair in the pristine penthouse suite and watched the snow-filled screen.
“Alessandra, Alessandra,” he said with a cluck of his tongue. “Haven’t you learned?”
He typed in a few commands and the monitor cleared, but this time the room was empty. Except for his promise in blood.
They thought they could outsmart him. They might have disabled his signal and even taken one camera, but he never moved forward without a contingency plan. The second device worked perfectly.
Police flooded the room, then cordoned it off; they looked like little ants scurrying about on his screen. They’d be looking for Lyssa soon. WitSec would get involved. His little bird would sing to him all the information he needed.
As for Alessandra, he would have to be more clear with his message the next time.
He picked up a perfectly sharpened pencil and brand-new notepad from the walnut desk beside him. Switching signals, he rewound the tape, pausing the moment she’d entered the room.
She had been holding the hand of another man. A man who wanted her. Archimedes could see the desire in the intruder’s eyes, in the way he infected Alessandra with his touch.
The pencil-tip broke.
He tossed the offending implement into the garbage can and took a second pencil. He stilled the tape.
“You belong to me,” he whispered. “I am your destiny. We’ve waited ten years to be together. Nothing will stop us now.”
A printer whirred and his rival’s face stared back from the image it produced. “No one will stop us.”
He walked to the closet and pulled out a new coat. He placed the bloodstained cashmere overcoat in the fireplace, sprinkled a small amount of accelerant and lit a match.
The fire exploded in warmth and the flames danced in celebration, consuming the evidence linking him to the waitress’s unplanned death. Such a waste, but he refused to make a mistake. Not so close to having her.
Another lesson was in order.
Alessandra would be his.
And the man she leaned on—he would pay a heavy price for wanting her.
* * *
THE SMELLS AND sounds of Chicago’s nightlife rang through the air: Italian spices, succulent barbecue, rumbling traffic, the clink of glasses, a few far-off sirens and laughter. Noah clutched Lyssa’s resistant hand, anchoring her to his side. The city never turned completely dark, but that didn’t mean peril didn’t lurk in the shadows, no matter how inviting the music in the bars or how many people milled around enjoying the atmosphere.
Noah didn’t want to think about how comfortable and right Lyssa’s hand felt in his. To everyone watching, they seemed to be a couple walking the streets of Chicago at dinnertime. No one would guess they were on the lookout for a serial killer—a man whose face and identity remained a frustrating mystery.
A darkened alcove appeared just ahead. Noah slowed. The danger prowling just out of sight reminded him more of Afghanistan than a business district in one of America’s largest cities. He scanned each potential vulnerab
ility before he allowed Lyssa to move forward.
She wasn’t any less vigilant. Her free hand hovered near her .45, poised for combat. He’d want her in his corner if he had to fight it out. He had no doubt she wouldn’t give up in the midst of a battle. Which wouldn’t be a problem as long as they were on the same page. If their plans of attack diverged, Noah could see fireworks in their future, and not the pleasurable kind.
Lyssa motioned left at the corner, and he swiftly circled to keep his body between the street and her. In front of a small mom-and-pop diner she stopped. He glanced at the hours posted on the glass. They’d be open a while longer, until 11:00 p.m.
“How often do you come here?” he asked.
“I stop by every few days or so for coffee. I try not to be predictable, and I pay cash,” she added. “For everything.”
“It’s not realistic to go somewhere only once,” he said, “even if it’s ideal. You learned the game well.”
“But not well enough.” She didn’t try to keep the bitterness from her voice. “You think he saw me here?”
“It’s worth asking. We can’t leave any possible lead untouched. Archimedes won’t.”
She fingered the chain at her throat. “I hate having a target on my back.”
“I understand,” Noah said. “Believe me.” The last year or so overseas, chatter had started. The Falcon had become too well known. Some part of him relished the idea that his reputation alarmed the terrorists, but he knew if he was ever caught, if they ever discovered his identity, it would make the torture his friend Daniel Adams had survived look like amateur hour.
Noah had discovered intel that Daniel’s abduction had partly come about because his enemies had put a price on the Falcon’s head. Daniel was caught in the cross fire and ended up being captured in the process. One more person to whom Noah owed a debt. One more reason he should keep his activities secret from everyone.
He opened the door and Lyssa stepped inside. The scent of well-used fryers filtered through the room. The diner was like a thousand others with a pass-through window connecting the kitchen and dining room. A muscle-bound cook flipped a burger, dumped an order of fries and then slid a plate through to the shelf.