She didn’t need it easily accessible right now. In fact, she wasn’t sure she needed it at all. The TEAM could certainly get along without her. She contemplated making another career choice. Anything to help her move on.
What had Alex been thinking when he’d encouraged her to come to Florida with Judith? If he knew what a mess Cassidy was, he would’ve sent someone else. He should have. Anyone else. Two suicidal women together couldn’t be smart, could it? She watched her young friend closely. Judith mirrored her. Yeah. Not good.
Cassidy took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I know you better than that, Judith. When your dad comes home, the first thing he’ll do is come looking for you. You don’t want him to find you floating in the river.”
She let that thought linger between them. Judith was simply grasping for straws in the emotional hurricane her life had become. If Jude would just call, she’d be grounded again. Hearing his voice wouldn’t hurt Cassidy, either.
The young woman’s nightmares weren’t the only ones Cassidy dealt with. Not knowing where Jude was or what he was doing made every night a little harder. It didn’t help that he’d gone deep undercover on FBI business, or that Alex hated the FBI for good reason. Cassidy now knew about that bungled operation in Wisconsin where one of Mark Houston’s sister-in-laws had died due to FBI negligence.
Jude wouldn’t be safe until he was home. She could lose him the same way she’d lost Rourke. The thought always came like a sucker punch to her gut, leaving her breathless and sweaty, hyperventilating and scared out of her wits for the man whose strong arms she craved.
Rourke’s cruel death had ripped the rug from beneath her and sent her flying. It left her floundering in a new and harsh reality, suspended like a kite in a vicious windstorm, never strong enough to touch down again, always fighting to hold on. If anything happened to Jude, she was afraid she’d fly off the edge of the world and never be seen again. Lost in space became a fearfully real possibility.
Placing a sweaty palm over Judith’s hand, Cassidy nodded toward the pontoon boat bobbing placidly by the dock. “How about another day in the sun? You could teach me to drive that thing. We could fish a little.”
“No,” Judith said quietly. “I’m tired of sunshine and waves. I’m going inside.”
“Well, then it’s time to bring out the big guns.”
“The what?” Judith looked sideways at her.
“I hate to do this,” Cassidy muttered playfully, “I mean I really hate to do this. I’m not good at it, but I hear it helps.”
Judith bit her lip, unshed tears glistening.
“Let’s go shopping.”
Judith didn’t even smile. “Uh-uh. I think I’ll just go feed my cat if it’s okay with you.”
“And let me go to the grocery store by myself?” Cassidy raised an evil brow, hoping to breach the storm of depression building behind Judith’s gray eyes. “You now how I am. I get near all that fruit and—”
Judith offered a thin smile. “We could use something besides pineapple and dragon fruit.”
“I never heard of dragon fruit before I came here,” Cassidy muttered. “They’re addictive. I’m hooked.”
“And guava?”
“And watermelon.” Cassidy pushed herself up from the chaise lounge and pulled Judith along with her. “See what I’m saying? I might need professional help.”
The gentle banter did the trick. Judith agreed to help shop for dinner. That was all Cassidy wanted. Turning back to the house, she noticed a familiar face headed her way. She didn’t want to admit it, but damn he looked good.
Judith squealed, “Tucker!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for take-off from O’Hare. The pilot will be pushing away from the gate in just a few minutes. Once again, thank you for choosing Delta for your travel to San Francisco, or as we call it, the City by the Bay. If there’s anything we can do to make your flight more enjoyable, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Jude froze. Another take-off meant another landing, and he didn’t know which he hated worse, the heart stopping sensation of G-forces pushing him into his seat at lift-off or the irrational fear of crash landing. One was as bad as the other.
Now a trusted member of the Brothers Grimm, he had one more drop to make, and who knew how many more lies to tell. The annoying agent in the earpiece in his head advised him daily how successful he’d been, but this whole undercover thing had been more difficult than he’d expected. He still didn’t know the location of the ricin, or who the mystery man was who appeared every morning with that special delivery—an unmarked canister.
The metro in Washington D.C. lay five days behind, New York City, another six. The last stop, San Francisco lay ahead. Boston and Chicago somewhere in between. By now he’d placed five of the deadly ricin-filled canisters, all set to go off at the same day and time according to Lucien Cain’s devious, but recently FBI approved, plan. At every stop and treacherous drop site, the Bureau waited behind the scenes, invisible but prepared to secure the deadly poison.
“You ever consider working for the government?” Floyd’s disembodied voice asked again.
“Never.” Jude’s quiet answer was swift and sure. The twenty-four-hour operation he’d signed up for had turned into too many risks and far too much worry. Not allowed to contact Judith or Cassidy yet, he wanted out of the Bureau’s business in the worst way.
“What you saying?” Mickey asked from the aisle seat at Jude’s left. “You talking to me?”
Jude shook his head, surprised Mickey had heard him over the engine noise. “Nothing. Just hate flying.”
“You’d make a good agent. You ought to think about it.” Floyd didn’t know when to quit.
“Never,” Jude muttered again, more quietly. Not only no, but hell no.
Trapped between Mickey Perez on the aisle and Alan Campbell at the window seat on a noisy Boeing 747 hurtling westward, did nothing to alleviate Jude’s stress level. Every bump of air turbulence increased the roaring case of stomach distress he’d had since he’d agreed to this insane operation. And Mickey was a big man. He didn’t appreciate having to move every time Jude needed to use the facilities at the back of the plane. Jude hated asking.
He was as tired of the three foul-mouthed degenerates he had to hang around with as he was of the FBI agent in his ear. Floyd was nice enough, but he’d become nothing more than an eavesdropping voyeur. The agent listened in on every conversation and offered plenty of free advice, but it wasn’t his life on the line, was it?
But worst of all, Jude was afraid of what was happening inside his head. Inside his soul. He’d changed with every canister of death he’d placed. Every lie he told battled with the good man he used to be.
To make matters worse, Clyde had blessed him with a disgusting nickname, the Cannonball Express. Clyde thought he was clever, but little did he know. Although Jude walked through crowds and past security guards seemingly as fearless as his nickname declared, in reality, he only did what he did because the minute he turned his back, an FBI agent was there to save the day. That’s who the real hero was. That nameless FBI agent and his Hazmat team. Not him.
Posing as an ex-HVAC repairman, he bragged it was the easiest part of the job. Because of his seemingly cold-blooded attitude, the Brothers Grimm claimed him their own, a damned dubious distinction. In truth, Jude was scared to death each time he ventured deeper into the intrigue of their warped thinking. He just never let it show because, well, he was scared of that, too. Showing fear with these animals would only mean another beating. Or death.
And therein lay the rub. The deceitful, hard man he’d been forced to become ate away at the person he really was. He missed Judith. He craved Cassidy. And he wanted to go home to his hide-away on the Saint John’s.
Today’s job entailed the final drop in San Francisco. Squelching his fear of flying down deep in his gut, Jude stared at the aircraft ceiling, if only becaus
e staring forced the visible signs of emotion from his face. Let the Brothers Grimm think he was scared of flying. He was, damn it. Man, Tucker would have had a field day if he’d been onboard. Jude could almost hear the insults.
Jude tapped his buddy’s forearm anyway.
“The crapper? Again?” Mickey glowered in disgust. “What’s the matter with you, Cannonball?”
Jude shrugged as Mickey stepped out into the aisle and allowed him to pass. Between the fast food these guys consumed and the anxiety eating him from the inside out, Jude relished his alone time in the narrow, crowded place called the aircraft restroom. It seemed the only time he could relax. Plus, it was the only time he could speak to Floyd without being overheard.
The FBI agent had to be seated nearby. Floyd’s calm voice entered Jude’s ear the moment he stepped past Mickey toward the rear of the plane. “You need to up your dose of extra-strength Imodium.”
“Yeah,” Jude acknowledged, without explaining he’d already upped it four times over the recommended dosage. Nothing helped, least of all free advice.
“You do know I’m on the same flight, don’t you? I’ve got your back.”
Jude glanced around at his fellow passengers at the rear of the aircraft. No Floyd in sight. “Where? First class?”
“Second row from the bulkhead.”
Figured. Might as well be on the moon. Jude was back of the bus. Way back. In the cheap seats.
“Next time you get up, leave your ear bud behind.”
Jude entered the restroom accommodations and made himself comfortable before he answered. By now, Floyd had heard everything. One more ungracious noise wouldn’t matter.
“Are you trying to get me caught?”
“You’re smarter than that,” Floyd muttered. “Don’t be obvious, and they won’t find it. We need to know what they’re saying while you’re gone. It’s a solid plan. Give it a shot.”
“Like where the rest of the ricin is?”
“Possibly. Intel can’t place a fifth person, but someone’s facilitating the transportation of the canisters besides that delivery guy. He doesn’t know anything. We need a name instead of a delivery order placed from a public phone booth by an anonymous mastermind.”
That was the understatement of the day. The ricin canisters were heavy, bulky, and looked like oxygen tanks. A cover over the top of the tanks hid the aerosol nozzle as well as the timer, already pre-set and ready to go. Every morning before show time, a canister was mysteriously delivered to their hotel room, no matter which city they were in. Jude had yet to intercept or connect with that supplier.
When he’d asked where the canisters came from, Mickey’d said it was none of his business, and Alan told him to shut up. Typical. The first phase of the prophet’s second coming would be complete once they’d placed this final canister in the San Francisco Bay Area transit system, the BART. Jude didn’t want to be anywhere near the Brothers Grimm for the second phase whatever it was, and smart-assed Floyd damned well knew it.
Jude was prepared nonetheless. He’d studied the online schematics of the Balboa Park BART transfer station at a local cyber café while Alan hunkered over his shoulder and literally breathed down his neck. Because of a recent environmental impact study, the ventilation system had been renovated. Additional HVACs had been added to the existing intake ducts.
Fortunately, the industrial-sized air-conditioning systems were installed between the air-filtration cleaners and the vents, which worked to the cult’s advantage. Once Jude deposited the ricin canister inside that hard-to-reach free space, nothing would stand between the aerosolized mists and the unsuspecting crowds of mass-transit users. The odd thing was that no one at any of the metro or subway stations had yet questioned Jude as to why an HVAC repairman needed a full tank of oxygen to inspect an air conditioner. It seemed the FBI had a long reach.
“Tucker says to tell you he’s on his way to visit your girlfriend,” Floyd said. “She’s still in Florida with your daughter, you know.”
Great. While I’m stuck in limbo, Tucker’s making moves on Cassidy. My life sucks. Jude finished what he’d started, washed and dried his hands, then flipped the occupied sign to unoccupied. “How are they?”
“Agent Dancer sticks pretty close to your daughter these days. Last status report says they’re both doing fine.”
Jude grunted. Knowing everything these two very important women in his life had to deal with right now didn’t sound like they were doing fine, not by a long shot.
“Who’s watching them?” Jude needed to know. Please, not Tucker. He’s such an ass.
“If you must know, Alex Stewart has a man on sight. Senior Agent Mark Houston. You know him?”
“Sure don’t. Is he decent?”
“If you mean can he take care of your daughter, all Stewart’s men are ex-military snipers and extremely capable bodyguards. Trust me. She’ll be safe.”
Knowing that Alex Stewart had a guy on sight soothed Jude’s nerves. He liked Stewart. If Mark Houston was anything like Alex, he had nothing to worry about.
“This is my last drop,” he reminded Floyd as he exited the bathroom. “No more.”
“Possibly,” Floyd hedged.
“No possibly about it.” Jude sidestepped a free-roaming toddler in the aisle on the way back to his seat. “Once I place this final can, I’m done. I’m going home. Plan on it.”
“We’ll see.”
“Don’t push me, Stuckey.” Jude heard the harshness hidden in his whisper. Yeah. It was time to quit this job and return to who he used to be. Mickey, Alan, and Clyde were rubbing off on him, and he was seriously beginning to detest good ol’ Floyd, too. “Get me the hell out of here.”
Just then a man stood up at the front of the cabin. Second row from the bulkhead. Just where he said he was. Jude slowed his pace while FBI Agent Floyd Stuckey made his way down the aisle, damn it. Two seats behind Mickey and Alan, Floyd pressed what felt like a coin into Jude’s palm and kept on going.
A bronze coin. One side proudly declared Rangers Lead the Way. The flip side showed the Army eagle, United States Army stamped at the edge. Great. Floyd had just reminded Jude big time who had paid the ultimate price in this war against evil. Rourke. Not Jude.
Shit.
Cassidy didn’t expect Tucker’s arrival to mean so much to Judith, but the moment the young woman spotted him, she barreled into his arms.
“You came!” she murmured as he hugged her tightly. “I’m so, so happy to see you.”
The moment seemed to catch him off-guard, too. He winced when she hit his chest, but that didn’t stop him from giving her a big hug. They stood for a long moment before Judith leaned back in his arms. Even then, she clutched his forearms as if she couldn’t bear to let go. “I didn’t think I’d ever, ever see you again.”
“Now why would you think that, darlin’?” He brushed a tear off her cheek. “I’m a SEAL, and us SEALs never leave friends behind. I told you I’d come see you, and here I am.”
Cassidy rolled her eyes at that big statement. It was just like Tucker to brag. “I’m surprised you’re up and around already, but it is good to see you.”
“Course.” He shot her a dazzling smile. “Nothing keeps—”
“A frog down. Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Cassidy interrupted another self-aggrandizing remark from the cocky guy. Despite his bravado, she couldn’t help but like Tucker Chase. He seemed to be just what Judith needed. “We were just headed to the market. Do you have plans for lunch?”
“You cook?” he asked in mock surprise, his brows lifted and all those pearly whites on display. “This I’ve got to see.”
“I’ve been known to,” Cassidy answered. Under other circumstances, she might have encouraged his mild flirtation. Not today.
“Don’t let her kid you. She’s a great cook,” Judith added, with genuine enthusiasm. “She grilled prawns last night. They were perfect.”
“Are you holding out on me?” Tucker winked at Cassidy like she was as gul
lible as Judith.
“Always.” He stood as much chance of landing her as the moon.
“How about if I take my best girls out to eat instead?”
“Oh! That would be so, so nice!” Judith exclaimed before Cassidy could get a word out.
What a smooth talker. Cassidy had to give him credit. Tucker’s unexpected visit did have a good effect on Judith. She’d latched onto his arm like a young girl on a date, and his big hand over hers didn’t help the situation. Tucker was obviously sweeping her off her feet, and why not? What was not to like about the guy? Besides his ego, that is. He had charm to spare in an abrasive sort of way.
Dressed in navy blue boat shorts and a white polo trimmed with navy pinstripes, he made for an easy sight on any woman’s eyes. The closely cut dark hair against his dark tan didn’t hurt, either.
“Hmm. Nice digs,” he commented, as they climbed the three steps to the porch.
Cassidy caught the tone of surprise in his voice. “We make do,” she countered airily, as if she actually owned the life of southern high society that Jude’s home represented. “Let me grab my wallet and—”
“Nope,” he interrupted. “I’m driving and I’m treating. You ladies don’t need to bring anything but your appetites and your delightful conversation.”
Cassidy cocked a crooked brow. “You’re sure full of it, Tucker. What’s really going on?”
He feigned amazement. “Can’t a man take two good-looking women out to eat around here without making you suspicious?”
“Yeah, right. You came all the way to Florida to take us to lunch.” She let that sarcastic statement hang.
“Nope. I came to see my best girl, if you want to know the truth.” The dimple in his right cheek deepened right on cue, and the gleam in those blue eyes enticed. Yeah. This guy was handsome, and he probably knew it, too.
“I know a good place to eat,” Judith said excitedly. “Lucky Lu Lu’s has the biggest prawns around.”
That put an end to the banter, but Cassidy still had a feeling there was more to Tucker’s visit. In no time at all, he’d followed Judith’s very precise directions to a little hole-in-the-wall joint overlooking the Saint John’s. An open porch ran around the entire rickety establishment, but the smell of seafood on the grill made Cassidy’s stomach growl. She hadn’t eaten breakfast.
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