Harlequin Intrigue January 2021 - Box Set 1 of 2

by Julie Anne Lindsey, Lena Diaz

  Alana nearly chuckled at the notion of anyone having to ask Rihanna for anything. She was a troubleshooting genius who anticipated the needs of her team with uncanny skill, then met those needs with precision and efficiency.

  “Grand Rapids PD is expecting you this morning,” Alana told her team. “Go home, make arrangements, then meet back here for departure. You know how to reach me if you need anything more.”

  Satisfied, and with a scheduled conference call in only a few moments, Alana excused herself from the room, confident the men and women of her TCD would get the job done.

  * * *

  MAX FLIPPED THROUGH the details Opaline had sent to his phone, grimacing at the senseless carnage. This wasn’t the work of kids, drunks or idiots screwing around. Those kinds of people blew up old washing machines, microwaves or vehicles. This was someone who wanted to kill. Someone who intended to get the job done. Max pressed a palm to his knee, soothing the phantom pain several inches below the joint, where a prosthetic limb had long replaced his own calf and foot.

  His insides tightened and ached at the memories. He’d thought for sure he’d die on that dirt road, a world away from home. And worse, he’d thought he’d gotten his team killed, as well. In reality, they’d all lived that day, though they hadn’t all come home.

  “Hey.” Axel slid onto the seat beside him, delivering a cup of coffee Max hadn’t been motivated to collect himself. He’d nearly finished a pot on his own before driving in today.

  “You okay?” Axel asked, leaving the question open-ended. Allowing Max to decide what and how much to share.

  “I’ve been better. I’m glad we’ve got the case, but I wish I could’ve talked Allie into leaving the city for a few days.”

  Axel pursed his lips. “No go, huh?”

  “Not even close.”

  He bobbed his head in understanding. Axel had been around for the whirlwind romance Max had shared with Allie. And for the divorce that had followed less than two years later. He tapped his thumbs against the table. “Alana wants you to take the lead on this. Are you okay with that?”

  Max dipped his chin. “No problem.”

  The rest of the team moved in closer, filling the space around Max’s end of the giant table.

  “Have you spoken to Allie?” Opaline asked, her voice thick with genuine concern.

  The question earned her a hard, slashing glare from her sister Selena’s eyes.

  “I did,” Max said, defusing the sibling tension as simply as he could. “She’s aware of the bombings, but given there’s no reason to suspect she’s a target, she plans to go on with business as usual.” Taking their son, Max Jr., along with her. All over town. To any number of places where a bomber could be setting up to kill another enemy.

  Worse, she’d barely spoken with him when he’d called. Max Jr. had been up, crying, teething, according to Allie, and she was in no mood for a directive from her ex-husband. So he planned to talk to her in person as soon as he got to Grand Rapids this morning. Hopefully, he’d have a better chance of changing her mind by light of day.

  He rubbed his chest where a dull ached formed at the thought of his family as collateral damage. Max had already screwed up once, putting his job continually before them. Letting his desire to protect others take precedence over his duty to be present with his wife and son. He’d ignored Allie’s warnings, and she wasn’t one to wait long on someone else to make her happy. She’d left him and moved to Grand Rapids, where she could be with her parents and sister. They’d been there for her as she built her small company and raised their son. All while Max was off saving lives and preserving other families instead of his own.

  The gonging silence turned his attention back to the team, now staring. Their expressions ranged from supportive and understanding to compassionate and clearly laced with pity.

  “What do you make of what we have so far?” Aria Calletti asked, breaking the silence. Aria was the rookie on the team, a narcotics expert and an agent who’d earned his respect on her first TCD mission not long ago. She was young, beautiful and petite, not the package bad guys expected to find disguising a powerhouse. Folks underestimated her, and she knew it. She used that to her advantage often and well.

  “I think this is about revenge,” Max said. “The bomber’s not blowing up old appliances to see if he can. He’s blowing up people at work. He’s not going for crowded marketplaces. He’s not detonating at the busiest times of day. He isn’t killing to kill. His goal isn’t mass destruction. It’s pointed. He wanted someone dead at each of these two locations and at those specific times. Times when the target would be one of the few people around.”

  Carly nodded at that, sipping gingerly from her home-brewed coffee. The tall blonde had been with TCD for three years and specialized in biochemical terrorism. Her honey hair and willowy stature reminded him of Allie, but Carly was guarded. His teammates all had a ghost or two in their pasts, something that kept them quiet at times, even mildly haunted. “Revenge,” she said. “It’s a powerful motive. And certain unstable individuals view bombings as loud and clear ways to assert their strength after feeling small or weak for too long.”

  Aria straightened, eyebrows high. “Well, all right. Let’s go to Grand Rapids.”

  The team agreed and headed for the door. Pulling their lives together on the fly, well enough that they could leave for an indefinite amount of time, meant a serious hustle. Most were used to it. Max kept a well-equipped go bag that would carry him up to a week without having to call for laundry service.

  He stretched out of his chair, eager to get on the road. He’d requested this assignment, and even offered to take vacation time and go alone if Alana didn’t think the situation required the entire TCD. He’d planned to show up at the Grand Rapids Police Department and beg them to let him consult. Thankfully, Alana had worked it out. Max was good on his own, but better with his team.

  Axel sauntered along at Max’s side. “You know, Allie and Max Jr. are going to be fine,” he said. “We’ll be there soon, and shut this bomber down before he ever sees us coming.”

  Max dared a look in his buddy’s direction, wishing like hell he could will those words to be true. “You can’t know that,” he said. There were too many variables. Too many unknowns.

  “Sure I can.” Axel clapped Max on the back as they made their way to the elevator, smiling that trademark smile. “I know it’s true because we’ve got you.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Allie McRay motored through the crowded downtown parking lot in search of a decent space. Nothing too far from the mall doors or a lamppost. Winters in Michigan were frigid, and though it was daylight now, it would be dark before dinner this time of year. Allie needed to be prepared. She could blame her mother, the media or growing up as a woman for her intense fear of walking alone at night, but the real credit went to her ex-husband, Max, and all his horrific true stories of real women never seen again.

  She shivered at the thought, then pressed the gas pedal a little harder. A minivan in the next aisle was exiting a prime spot below a security light. Allie’s car slid in response to the acceleration, fishtailing slightly on a patch of ice as she made her way around the corner. Her knuckles ached as she gripped the steering wheel more tightly and cursed the freezing temperatures.

  She trundled into the spot beneath the light, then shut down the engine and centered herself. Retail work in January was always a wild ride. Shoppers came out in droves to return ill-fitting and unwanted Christmas gifts. Many were less than pleasant about the exchanges, but that was the price of doing business. Thankfully, most people were thrilled with their Baby Threads purchases, and an upside to the January madness was the number of shoppers with newly acquired holiday cash ready to give her products a try.

  Baby Threads was Allie’s passion project, a small but mighty company she’d started at home so she could spend more time with her son,
Max Jr. Now her custom-designed infant-and-toddler clothing business had its own kiosk at the mall.

  She climbed out and hooked a series of bags over her shoulder. Her purse. Her laptop. A tote with more stock. Then she hurried inside, careful not to slip on any ice in the process.

  The mall was warm and bustling as she made her way to the escalator. Scents of everything delicious wafted from the cafés and restaurants around the food court, making her wish she wasn’t still committed to her New Year’s resolution of making healthier choices. In other words, no more loading up on caffeine and sugar to keep her awake and peppy. This year she would rely on nutrition and exercise to help with those things. And only the occasional cinnamon roll, she reasoned. Because she wasn’t Superwoman.

  Allie made her way to the Baby Threads kiosk and opened it with a smile, thankful for the coveted space, if a little nervous about the bomber on the loose. She could thank her ex-husband for that fear, too.

  He’d called her at three o’clock in the morning, upset about footage of a local bombing he’d seen on the news. She’d answered, barely able to hear his words over their screaming, teething son, whose poor little gums had kept him in misery for the past few days. She’d gotten the gist of Max’s problem and request. He knew there was a bomber in her city, and Max wanted her to leave town until the man was apprehended. Not a wild idea, and certainly one she’d thought of many times this morning while she prepared Max Jr. for a day with her parents and herself for work. One bombing had been awful, two had been worrisome, and what she hadn’t thought to tell Max last night was that she’d seen the most recent explosion. She’d run out for infant pain reliever when Max Jr.’s temperature had risen enough to make her fret. So she’d packed him into the car and headed to the local drugstore. He’d gotten a few blessed moments of sleep in his car seat, until the blast had woken him, and the emergency responders’ sirens had kept him up. By the time Max had called, she was home and in survival mode. She could barely concentrate on anything other than her baby’s cries, and she’d rushed Max off the phone.

  In her sleep-deprived mommy mode last night, the whole experience had felt like a desperate blur, but as she’d gone through her morning routine, that had changed. She still wouldn’t leave town. Being a single parent and the sole proprietor of a growing business meant she carried the bulk of responsibility for her little family’s financial future. But she wanted to talk to Max again. Let him know she might’ve been a witness.

  She rubbed chills from her arms as she set up her laptop and logged in to her inventory software. Memories of the blast and her ex-husband’s pleas weighted her thoughts, but she couldn’t let Max get into her head right now. Max Jr. was safe with her parents, and so far, the Grand Rapids bomber hadn’t blown anything up during regular business hours. So there was nothing to worry about. She hoped.

  Allie opened her tote bag and liberated the pile of new stock she’d brought from home. She put several items on display, then arranged older items on pegs and across the narrow countertop.

  Today would be a good day, she decided. Usually, that was all it took. The right mindset and a positive attitude.

  A couple with a stroller stopped to look at the tiny faux fur vests Allie had hung above the counter.

  She smiled, then let them take their time perusing the displays while their baby slept at their side.

  “Five are already dead and a bunch more were injured,” the man said, staring at his phone and speaking to the woman. “Two bombs in three days. Both at public locations. Businesses. Like this one,” he said, raising his hands to motion around them. “It doesn’t make any sense to be here today. Especially not with Chloe. She shouldn’t have to be in harm’s way because you got a little time off work.”

  The woman rolled her eyes and continued flipping through hangers. “No one is bombing the mall. Pull it together already. If someone was going to bomb the mall, they would have closed it.”

  “If it worked like that, they would’ve closed the real-estate office and Burger Mania.” He pushed the stroller behind her, clearly distressed as she rounded the kiosk’s corner.

  Allie worked up a warm smile when the couple looked her way. Max had said the same thing last night. He’d wanted her to stay home today, but how could she? The bills wouldn’t pay themselves. And bomber or no bomber, Allie wanted to see Baby Threads succeed. She wanted to make it on her own. Without needing Max’s help to get by.

  The man laughed at something the woman said, then dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Humor me,” he said. “Let’s do what you came here to do and leave. We can spend the rest of the day at home. You can rest. I’ll make lunch and watch after Chloe.”

  The woman froze. Her gaze flicked to Allie, then back to the man. “Deal.” She stacked the items from her hand onto the counter in front of Allie. “We’ll take these. I have the sudden urge to go home.” She pulled the man’s mouth to hers and pressed a kiss against it while Allie tallied up the total.

  She smiled at the couple as they walked away, ignoring the pinch of regret in her gut. She and Max had had days like that once, and she missed those times terribly.

  Truthfully, she missed him terribly. Even when he called at three in the morning demanding she leave town. It was kind of nice to know he still worried about her.

  Allie yawned. Desperately in need of sleep.

  Her ex-husband was clearly still in her head, because she swore she saw him approaching through the crowd. She strained for a clearer look at the fierce expression on an absurdly handsome face. Could it be? The resemblance was uncanny, right down to that towering presence that had always made him feel so much larger than life.

  She narrowed her eyes as she took him in. Specifically the distinct gait in his walk, the result of a pretty high-tech artificial limb. She’d know that walk anywhere. He used to call the prosthesis his bionic leg to make her laugh. He wasn’t wrong. The piece came complete with a battery-powered ankle that functioned a lot like a real one. Her favorite part about it had always been the man who got up every day, put it on and got to work. Because nothing stopped Max from protecting people. Not even losing part of himself, and nearly his life, to the cause.

  Butterflies flew wildly in her stomach at the realization, and heat flushed instantly over every part of her. It was completely unfair that even now, after eight months of divorce, he had the same impact on her as the day they’d first met.

  She tugged the ends of her too-curly hair and wished she’d taken more time with it this morning. Dumb, she complained internally. Why did she have to spend precious time on her unruly locks to feel attractive when Max woke up looking like that?

  He smiled as he crossed the final few feet to her kiosk, the same devilish and dangerous smile that had pulled her in three years ago. One she’d yet to develop an immunity to, it seemed. “Allie.”

  “Max.” She squared her shoulders and smiled politely back, willing her traitorous body not to go in for a hug.

  “You look good,” he said, taking a moment to drag his gaze over her.

  “Thank you.” She bit her tongue against the urge to tell him he looked good, too. This wasn’t a casual visit between friends. This was an ambush. He’d asked her by phone not to come to work, and she’d ignored him. So he had come in person to press his point.

  She crossed her arms and waited, trying not to get hung up on the way his rich brown skin and tawny eyes had always seemed straight off a billboard, or the way the added stubble on his cheeks begged for her touch.

  “About our talk last night,” he said, casting a careful look at the shoppers around her kiosk.

  “I guess Director Suzuki agreed with your request.” Allie wasn’t surprised. He’d told her about his plan to contact the TCD director and ask to get the team involved in the local bombing case. He’d wanted to come to Grand Rapids. And Max always got his way.

  Except when he’d told her to st
ay home today, so here he was, working on that.

  “Doing a little after-Christmas shopping before you get to work?” she asked.

  He frowned, and her gut twisted as another possibility rushed into mind. Could he be there because he was right? Was there a bomb in the mall? Her gaze swept over the masses around them. Friends and families. Young and old. Her stomach dropped and the chill of fear raised gooseflesh on her arms.

  “I just wanted to see you,” he said, stopping her erratic train of thought before it completely derailed. He leaned an elbow on the narrow counter beside her and flashed an irresistible grin. “Remind you that I have a pretty great condo in Traverse City that you and Max Jr. would really enjoy.”

  The shoppers moved around him, comparing items and prices from her kiosk while obviously eavesdropping.

  Allie smiled sweetly back. “That’s very nice of you, but like I said before, I can’t. I have to work. These Baby Threads don’t make themselves.” She cast a congenial look at the shoppers.

  When she turned her attention back to Max, her heart gave a heavy thud. There was pain in his fathomless brown eyes and frustration in the set of his jaw. “You should reconsider,” he said, moving into her personal space. “You deserve a few days away. I’m sure that’s all it will take.”

  “No.”

  Max pressed his lips tight, and she imagined kissing them open. He smelled like heat and spice and man.

  She gave herself a few hearty internal kicks. “But I’m glad you’re here. I was hoping to talk to you about something.”

  The remaining kiosk shoppers headed for the escalator, leaving her alone with her greatest, most infuriating temptation.