by C. J. Cross
He wore his concern like a badge as he strode over. “How are you feeling?”
“Ridiculous,” she grumbled, looking down at the absurdly sexy black jumpsuit she still wore. It only added insult to injury.
The brief curve of Shepard’s lips didn’t make her feel any better. But the fact that he was still wearing a t-shirt with a pinup girl on it did. “You ready to get out of here?” he asked.
Dana arched her brows, then winced from the unexpected pain. “What do you mean? Are we leaving? Without Barnes?”
She tried to get to her feet, ready to protest, but her vision danced, and she reached out for the side of the truck. As usual, Shepard was there to steady her, but she batted him away. She knew better than to get used to having someone to lean on. She sat down, feeling defeated.
Sighing, Shepard joined her. “Listen, this isn’t over, but the best thing we can do right now is let the Vegas PD do their job. I have a ton of paperwork to fill out thanks to your stunt.” His intense blue eyes sharpened on her. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me why you disobeyed a direct order?”
Dana started to shake her head, instantly regretting it. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“You got that right,” he muttered.
Rising to his feet, Shepard extended a hand. “We can talk about it after you’ve had some rest.”
Dana hesitated, testing his patience. Shepard ran a hand through his hair, making the short, dark pieces stand at awkward angles. It made him look more relaxed even though he was anything but. “Dana, we’re gonna get this guy, I promise you that. Bishop and his team are on it. We can start fresh and join them again in the morning, okay?”
Dana knew Shepard was right. She was useless right now. Her head throbbed, and every muscle in her body ached thanks to the beating she’d taken from Barnes. She didn’t even want to see what she looked like. If it was even half as bad as she felt, she probably resembled roadkill.
For once, she reluctantly took the help that was being offered. Dana reached up for Shepard’s hand and followed him to an unmarked squad car ready to take them back to their hotel where she could lick her wounds.
23
Jake drew the phone to his ear reflexively, not even bothering to look at the time. He already knew it was an ungodly hour, which meant the call was important. “Shepard.”
“Shep? It’s Cramer.”
Jake sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He cleared his throat. “What is it?”
“Barnes isn’t your guy.”
Heart sinking, Jake asked what he already knew the answer to. “Fresh scene?”
“Yeah. I just arrived. Same signature. Two bodies, vials, satanic shit.”
Jake held in his sigh. “All right. When do we fly out?”
“Check with HQ, but it might be faster to catch something commercial depending on how quickly they can put a flight plan together.”
“Understood.”
“Call me when you land.”
“Roger that.”
Jake disconnected the call and flipped on the bedside lamp. The clock read 4:28 AM. At least he’d gotten a little shut-eye. Not much, but still better than nothing.
He’d been up until well after midnight filling out paperwork from the Barnes fiasco. Not wanting to bother with more, he put in a call to his secretary to book him and Gray on the next commercial flight out of Vegas, and then took a quick shower to wake himself up.
He wasn’t looking forward to waking Dana up and telling her they were leaving Vegas and Barnes behind. After the stunt she pulled, he was more convinced than ever that she was hiding something. His uncle’s words floated back to him. People don’t run into burning buildings unless there’s something inside calling them.
Jake hadn’t yet figured out what it was about this case that was calling to Dana. Still, he had to admit, she continued to impress him. He was pissed that she’d disobeyed him and put herself in danger like that, but it took guts to go after Barnes the way she had. From the bruises he’d seen forming on her knuckles, he had a feeling that she’d given as good as she got.
As Jake dipped his head under the hot water, letting the slow burn bring him back to life, his thoughts trailed back to Dana in that Black Widow jumpsuit. It was too easy to picture her here in the shower with him. An ache built inside him as he imagined his hands slowly gliding over her curves, peeling the wet black material from her pale skin.
“Shit ...” Jake cranked the faucet to cold and forced himself to think of anything except the gorgeous librarian.
It’d been a while since he’d let anyone get under his skin—or under his sheets for that matter—but he was determined to keep things professional. It made him even more eager to get back to DC and wrap up this case. Then he’d be rid of Dr. Gray and this unwanted distraction.
By the time Jake was toweling off, his phone blinked with a new email showing their flight itinerary out of McCarran. He picked up the phone to let Gray know the change of plans. When she didn’t answer, something akin to dread found a way into his gut.
Taking his gun from the safe, he tucked it in the waistband of his joggers as he rushed to the door. He’d been in too much of a hurry to check on her to bother pulling on a shirt. The cold temperature in the hall made his skin tighten with goosebumps.
Silently moving toward her room, Jake stopped outside Gray’s door, rapping loudly. “Dana? Dana, are you in there?”
He was met with silence. Swearing, he knocked again, louder this time. She’d better be in there. He wouldn’t put it past her not to let this thing with Barnes go. If she’d gone off and done something stupid …
The sound of the lock tumbling stopped his train of thought. The door cracked open an inch and Dana peered out, the lock guard still in place. It calmed Jake’s nerves that she had the sense to use it.
Her dark eyes widened as she blinked back at him. “Jake? What’s wrong?”
“Change of plans. We’re going back to DC.”
“DC? When?”
“Now. Get dressed. Our plane leaves at 0600.”
He turned to walk back to his room, but heard Dana’s door shut just long enough for her to unbolt the guard.
“Shepard! Wait!” The door swung open and Dana followed him into the hall, skimpy pajamas and all. “What’s going on?”
Jake turned back to face her, doing his best to keep his eyes on her face and not the thin cotton of her sleep shirt or how high up her thighs the hem hit. “We can’t talk about it here. I’ll tell you on the plane.”
“What about Barnes?”
“He’s not our guy.”
“You don’t know that!”
“Actually, I do.” Understanding flashed across her pale face, making her bruises aggravate him even more. This woman had already been through enough. He never should’ve brought her into the field. Jake turned away, but Dana’s words called him back.
“Maybe he’s not our guy, but he’s not innocent either or he wouldn’t have run.”
“Well, he’s not our problem now.”
Dana’s mouth fell open. Her outrage was endearing. Jake remembered when he was like that—believing justice would always prevail. But that was a long time ago, before he joined the Army and found out how unjust the world truly was.
“He’ll resurface, Dana. And when he does Bishop and his guys will bring him in.”
Jake turned away from Dana’s wounded expression and headed back to his room before that appealing outrage of hers wormed its way in so deep that he would feel like that old version of himself again. The one that craved more than the comfort of a warm body now and again.
24
Wincing, Dana did her best to cover the bruises on her face with the little makeup she’d brought with her. She’d never really cared much about her looks, but she sure didn’t love the purple bruising under her eyes.
It was worth it, though. Each scrape and bruise was a badge of honor if she’d inflicted even an ounce of the pain she’d felt her whole life ont
o the monster who’d taken her parents from her.
But had she?
Something still bothered her about Anson. He was a class A criminal—she was sure of that—but she wasn’t convinced he’d killed her parents. It was stupid, but she thought she’d feel something when she locked eyes with the person who stole so much from her. But with Anson … she’d felt nothing.
Forcing away her nagging suspicions, she focused on covering up just how much going after Anson had cost her.
When she was satisfied, Dana stood back and studied herself in the mirror. Not bad. But not good either. It would have to do. She needed to meet Shepard in the lobby soon or they’d miss their flight back to DC.
Sighing, she sat on the edge of the bathtub to put on her shoes. Her feet were killing her after running barefoot for half a dozen blocks tracking Barnes.
And all for nothing.
Dana pushed away her self-pity and pain. Bruises would fade. Her grief would not. That’s what had compelled her to go into the nightclub after Barnes.
Shepard had ripped her a new one over it.
He told her no one had discharged a weapon, so he wasn’t buying that she’d heard a gunshot. Honestly, she couldn’t be sure she’d heard one either. She’d been acting on pure adrenaline.
Going after Barnes by herself was stupid. She knew that. But she also knew she’d do it all over again if it meant she had another chance to bring him down.
Locking her anger away, Dana finished dressing. She found her mind wandering back to Shepard and the look of concern in his eyes when he’d knocked on her door earlier. It wasn’t fair that he looked so gorgeous at such an ungodly hour. Dana felt like a zombie, but Jake looked like one of the Greek statues displayed at their hotel. She’d always known he was fit, but when he’d shown up wearing nothing but dog tags and jogging pants, she’d been momentarily speechless.
It wasn’t just his perfect six pack that caught her attention, it was the scars that covered him like a patchwork of pain.
It made her wonder if she’d misjudged him. Dana wore her pain like a shield, but maybe Jake buried his. She wasn’t sure either way was healthy, but it made them who they were, for better or worse.
25
Jake strained against his seatbelt, looking past Dana for one last glimpse out the window at the Nevada landscape. The sun was just rising, making the haze shrouding the Spring Mountain range shimmer in the distance. The palm trees lining the runway shrunk to the size of lollipops, dotting the packed brown earth until they gave way to the grid pattern of neighborhoods, then desert.
As the plane climbed higher, Jake’s thoughts of a family reunion faded. It made him glad he hadn’t reached out to his mother or Wade while he was in town. They would only be disappointed having known he was so close, yet still so far away.
Dana gave him a quizzical look when she caught him staring at the bland landscape a bit too long. He looked away, but not soon enough.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look … forlorn.”
Jake smirked. “How many points does that word get you?”
She cocked her head.
“You know, in crosswords.”
“How should I know?”
He shrugged. “You look like someone who does crosswords.”
“I do, but words don’t score you points in crosswords. You’re thinking of Scrabble.”
Jake huffed a laugh, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of their conversation. They were chasing a serial killer and here they were talking about board games. He supposed it was partially his fault. Dr. Gray might be a genius in all things occult, but she was just as good at keeping people at arm’s length as he was. If they were ever going to learn to work together, one of them was going to have to crack.
A glance at Gray and her bruised cheek told Jake everything he needed to know. She was too stubborn to make the first move. Hell, she’d gotten her ass handed to her yesterday, and she still hadn’t admitted why she was so invested in this case. He was going to have to be the one to break the ice.
Sighing, he went for his preferred approach—ripping off the Band-Aid. “My family lives here.”
Gray lowered her sunglasses, hitting him with the full power of those soulful brown eyes of hers. “Really? You’re from Las Vegas?”
“Ellsworth. A few miles outside the city.”
“Huh.”
He laughed. “Huh? That’s all I get?”
“Sorry, I’m still trying to process it.”
“Process what?”
“The fact that you’re from Vegas.”
“Ellsworth,” he corrected. “Why’s that so hard to believe?”
“You don’t look like a Nevadan.”
It was his turn to arch his brows. “Oh, are you a profiler now?”
Her full lips curved up into what could almost be considered a smile, but it disappeared so fast Jake wasn’t sure if he imagined it.
Man, she was a tough nut to crack. He was going to have to give her more. “I haven’t seen them in a while; my family. My mother and my Uncle Wade still live in Ellsworth. It’s a little spit of a town near a military base. I’d hoped I might have time to get up there and see them if things had worked out differently with Barnes.”
“Are you close with them?”
Jake was mid nod before he realized that wasn’t true. “I used to be.”
“What happened?”
This was it, his moment to extend the olive branch. But that was easier said than done. Jake’s hands shook as his mind brought him back to that moment. The moment that had finally broken him. “My last tour in Ghazni … I lost someone … a teammate.”
But Ramirez was more than that. Jake’s throat tightened as he thought about his best friend. “We grew up together.” Gripping the armrests to stop his hands from shaking, Jake forced himself to continue. “I guess it’s hard to go back home knowing he can’t.”
Jake slowly shook his head, the last images of his best friend flashing through his mind; the charred remains of their Humvee, the stench of burnt flesh …
Dana’s soft voice brought him back. “It doesn’t feel like home without him there.”
Her words surprised him. Jake turned to meet her solemn gaze. Those sad eyes of hers … they looked like they’d lived a thousand lives worse than his. Yet somehow, she comforted him. Making him feel like he wasn’t alone in his misery. Jake nodded. “Exactly. I don’t think it’ll ever be home again without him.”
“What was his name?”
Jake swallowed, his vocal cords feeling as though they’d snap as he forced the name out. “Ramirez. Danny Ramirez.” Out of habit Jake put his hand to his chest, making sure the dog tags he always wore were still there. There were three on the stainless-steel ball chain around his neck. A man he looked up to, a man he never wanted to turn into, and a man he’d never forget.
“You wear his dog tag,” Dana said, matter-of-factly. At Jake’s bewildered expression, she offered a hint of a smile. “I saw it this morning when you came to my room. You weren’t wearing a shirt.”
“Oh. Right.” Jake was going to say more, but the faint blush that crept into Dana’s cheeks distracted him.
“Who are the others for?”
Jake let his hand drop from his chest, returning it to the arm rest. “Maybe I’ll tell you some other time.”
Feeling Dana’s hand slide over his surprised him. “I’d like that,” she said, her hand giving a slight squeeze before returning to her lap.
Jake returned her smile. This time he knew he hadn’t imagined it. It had been a genuine one, and it put him at ease. Reclining his seat, he closed his eyes and let sleep pull him under. With the way this case was going, he had a feeling he’d need it.
Talking about Ramirez had drained him. He hadn’t spoken his best friend’s name out loud since his debriefing years ago. As he drifted to sleep, Jake wondered if he was mistaking exhaustion for progress
.
26
Dana watched Shepard sleep on the flight home, wondering what he was dreaming about behind his flickering eyelids. She hoped it wasn’t Ramirez. She felt bad that she’d inadvertently picked at an old wound.
Listening to Shepard talk about his friend was the first chink she’d seen in his armor. Though he hadn’t gone into detail about what happened, Dana knew enough about what went on in the combat zones of Afghanistan to know it had most likely been horrific. Especially if it scarred a man like Jake Shepard.
The more time she spent with him, the less she believed the story he told her that first day at the crime scene. She appreciated that he’d felt the need to do her a kindness in her moment of weakness, but she needed him to know she wasn’t in the habit of being weak or needing rescue. Dana had grown up fast, feeding herself a steady diet of vengeance, ensuring her heart was hewn of steel so that when she got the chance to avenge her parents, she wouldn’t hesitate.
That’s why she was so upset with herself over Anson Barnes. She’d had him right there. And if it hadn’t turned out that he wasn’t the killer, she never could’ve lived with herself knowing she let him slip through her grasp.
Shepard filled her in on his conversation with Cramer on the drive to the airport. The new crime scene in DC was enough to exonerate Barnes, but it still irked her that she wouldn’t be there when the creep was brought to justice. He may not be the Romeo and Juliet killer, but Dana was convinced he wasn’t an innocent man.
She winced as her hand brushed the tender bruise on her cheek. Dana wanted to press charges, but Shepard advised against it. Based on her statement, he said it sounded like she got in just as many shots on Barnes and with no other witnesses, it’d be his word against hers. Shepard told her pressing charges would be like poking a hornet’s nest and not worth the headache.