“Did you look at Lucy like you wanted to strangle the life out of her?” She turned her back to him and pulled a diaper and fresh pajamas out of the drawer, fumbling with the clothes despite her attempt to look nonchalant.
Murphy’s grin got wider. “He’s got a lot on his plate right now. He’s worried about you and the kids. It’s worse because he likes you. It’s a big risk, what we’re doin’, and there are complications you don’t know about.”
“Yes, I’m positive there are scads of details I don’t know. Luke made that clear in no uncertain terms.” Jilly raised angry eyes to meet his gaze. “I’m just along for the ride, like so much luggage.”
“Cut him some slack, honey. He’s feelin’ stuff he hasn’t felt in a long time.”
“I believe you’re way off the mark on that one.” Her heart sank when she acknowledged the truth of her words.
“No.” Murphy shook his head. “Trust me.”
“Let’s assume, for argument’s sake, that you’re correct. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“His wife was no picnic.”
She glanced up then. “He told me all about Linda.”
“He did?” Murphy’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Oh, he’s got it worse than I thought. G never talks about her to anyone. I thought he’d never get over it when she killed hers—”
He heard her gasp of shock around the same time he must have seen the expression of horror in her eyes because he stopped midsentence. “Oh shit. He didn’t tell you.”
“I d-didn’t know she was dead,” she whispered. “I—I thought they divorced. He told me… He said she left him four years ago.”
“Yeah, she left all right.” Murphy glanced across the room at Josephson and lowered his voice. “G took it pretty bad.”
“He loved her that much?” She took a few shuddering breaths to force back the tears. Poor Luke. That would certainly explain a great deal. He’d lost the woman he loved.
“Not quite. They hadn’t been getting along for years.”
“But you said…”
“He blamed himself. Still does, I think.”
“What happened?” Her heart ached at the thought of the pain he had to have endured. No wonder he held himself apart.
“Big irony, she was addicted to prescription painkillers. She was always sort of a hypochondriac. Always whinin’ to Luke about him being gone all the time.” Murphy stroked Sarah’s fuzzy head as he swayed back and forth. “God, I love this age. They’re so sweet.”
“Luke doesn’t strike me as the type to complain,” Jillian said and smiled when the giant man feigned a look of surprise. “Let me rephrase that. He complains about me incessantly. I meant that he keeps important things close to his chest.”
“Yeah, you’re right about that,” Murphy admitted. “My wife’s always gossipin’ with the other wives, ya know? Some of the old-timers knew Linda pretty well. And—no offense—” He seemed to brace himself for her response. “But, when chicks say that about another chick…”
Jilly tried desperately to keep a straight face. “Indeed. A very credible source.”
He paused to rub his chin over Sarah’s soft curls. “Anyway, she’d been downing painkillers for a long time and G didn’t know anything about it. Came home from an op and found her dead. She’d taken an overdose.”
“Maybe it was a mistake?” She winced at the thought of Luke’s reaction, of the agony he must have faced when he’d realized what she’d done. She knew him well enough to know that he would have felt completely responsible. Regardless of whether it was true or not.
“Nope. She made sure to leave a very detailed note. Because of the way it happened and because of who we are, the agency had to investigate her death, to rule out foul play. So the note… Well, G had to hand it over.” Murphy shook his head sadly. “I’ve never seen it myself. Apparently it contained an extensive list of all his failings as a husband.”
She felt the tears trickle down her face and knew this time she would be helpless to stop them. “How could she do that to him?” she whispered before clapping a hand to her mouth. Linda had to have known it would destroy him. How could anyone be so cruel? “Oh, Danny, she sounds bloody awful.”
“So, now you know. Luke’s been to hell. In four years, you’re the first evidence I’ve seen to indicate that he might be finally comin’ back.” The burly agent lowered his gaze to the infant slumbering on his shoulder and carried Sarah to her crib. “Don’t judge him too quickly. He’s been in a very bad place. I don’t know anyone who deserves a break more than him.”
Luke was edgy, his gut strumming with uneasiness as they left the convenience store. At least they were only a couple miles from the motel. Petrie appeared alert but completely unfazed. Luke wondered which of them was off kilter and decided it must be him. He hadn’t wanted to leave Jilly and the kids, not even under Murphy’s watchful eye. That told him something he wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to admit.
He’d been dying for a little breathing room, been relieved to get away. But now he was antsy to get back. His need to protect them at any cost was beginning to cloud his judgment. He hated waiting for the takedown. It required a degree of patience he found hard to maintain. And he hated it even more knowing Jilly and the kids would be in the thick of it when it finally went down. Grateful to have reinforcements, he was equally grateful for the buffer they created between him and Jilly. Yet it gnawed at him each time one of the guys was on the receiving end of one of her smiles.
He gave himself a mental head slap. It didn’t help that he was forced to exert every ounce of discipline simply to keep his distance from her. Not touching her was nearly killing him. And damn, if he wasn’t wasting precious time wondering what he’d done to make Lady Jillian pissed at him again.
He’d broken the cardinal rule. He’d let her creep under his skin. He’d let her crawl into his head. And she’d filled it with thoughts he had no right to be thinking. Thoughts of a future together with her.
Crap. Luke shook his head in disgust. The way he was acting, he deserved to get shot tonight. A sudden awareness crawled up his spine and he skidded to a stop, gravel crunching under his feet, his gaze sweeping the parking lot.
“Yo, Pete. Everything look okay to you?”
“Yeah, man. Let’s get back. You’re next on watch.”
Something was wrong. Luke felt it in every fiber of his being. His senses throbbed with the scent of danger. The westerly breeze that ruffled his hair carried the scent of honeysuckle and decaying mulch. And something else. Gunpowder.
“Pete, opposite side of the building. Something’s going down,” he whispered. Petrie gave him a questioning look, but moved quickly to the car where he dumped the groceries in the back seat. He withdrew his gun, then signaled Luke to take the lead.
Luke hadn’t crept more than a dozen yards into the shadows before he saw the flash of weapon fire. He rolled to the ground and returned fire, hearing gravel scatter as Petrie dove for cover behind a car.
“Luke? You okay?”
“Yeah. You see anything?”
“Nope. I’m gonna head around the far side, see if I can shake ’em out before the locals get here. Cover me in three.”
Petrie began to run as Luke fired a few warning rounds into the shadows, straining to see the flash of return fire. There wasn’t any. He raised his eyebrows at that miracle, and then hunkered down, flattening himself into the mossy bank of the drainage ditch he’d landed in. He heard the faint sound of sirens and knew it was time to move. He took advantage of the noise and shimmied out on the other side of the ditch. Away from the washed-out lights of the parking lot, the heavy darkness swallowed him up. His eyes adjusted to the murky shadows and he found his visibility to be surprisingly good. If he was quiet, he might be able to circle around the shooter to catch him from behind.
He listened intently to the sounds of the night. His heart drilled in his ears and he had to focus to hear over it. The soft, spongy earth muffled his
steps as he moved through the woods, doubling back around the rear corner of the building. He scanned the opposite side for Petrie. He should be in position by now.
He froze at the sound of voices whispering at the edge of the clearing. Two—no, three—voices argued over where Luke had gone and about what to do next as the wail of sirens grew closer. He felt an adrenaline rush of shock when he recognized the voice of one of the shooters. It was only a split second later that his survival instinct kicked in. His gut told him to get the hell out of here.
Luke obeyed.
Sweat poured into his eyes as Luke staggered through the woods. The burning in his lungs told him he’d run at least two miles. The burning in his forearm told him he’d been shot. Again. He knew he had to reach Murphy. And he had to do it now. They’d seen him, but they didn’t know which way he’d gone. Common sense would lead them back toward the motel. They had to know he’d warn the others.
He pulled out the borrowed cell phone, pausing only a moment to examine the sleeve of his jacket. The size of the hole indicated serious firepower. It was a miracle he’d only been grazed. But he had the gnawing suspicion he was running out of miracles.
Petrie was the leak, but was he the only leak? Pete was in it up to his neck with Sloan’s bunch. But had he acted alone? Or could there be another mole on the task force? Damn, it just kept getting worse.
He’d run nearly all the way back to the motel and still hadn’t seen evidence of a surveillance crew anywhere. Where the hell was their backup? Had the whole takedown been faked? Just to get him? This was no freakin’ vendetta. For Sloan to risk everything, he wanted Luke dead in a big way. His brain flashed back over the past several weeks. What the hell had he seen in Sloan’s operation that he shouldn’t have?
Sweet Jesus. What if Josephson was in on it, too? He shuddered at the implication. What if he’d overpowered Murphy? What if they were all dead?
Had that been the plan all along? To separate them and take ’em out one at a time. He thought about the boys. They’d been playing with their cars on the beds when he’d left. And sweet little Sarah. She’d smiled at him. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. That couldn’t have been the last time. And what about Jilly?
He was gonna be sick. Luke threw himself down on the mossy ground, his hands sinking in the decaying leaves as he forcefully lost the contents of his stomach. His hands were still shaking a few minutes later when he dialed his partner’s cell phone. They couldn’t be dead. Not now. Not when he’d only just realized how much he cared about them.
His knees buckled with relief when he recognized his partner’s gruff voice. “Murph—don’t say anything. Petrie’s working for Sloan. He just tried to take me out.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Watch Joe,” he ordered. “Watch your back. Petrie’s probably on his way back to you.”
He took several cleansing breaths while Murphy moved into the spare room away from Josephson. They were safe. They were alive. His brain knew it to be fact, but his nerves didn’t seem to be comprehending. He’d worked with Danny Murphy long enough to know exactly what to expect from his partner and he waited impatiently for his friend to come back on the line.
“Make sure you keep an eye on Josephson,” he said to his partner.
“Yes, sir.” Murphy’s crisp tone indicated Josephson was somewhere nearby. “What’s the latest?”
“Petrie set me up at the convenience store. Two other shooters. I don’t know if they’re on their way back to you or not. I’m a quarter mile north of you in the woods.”
“Hold on, sir. Let me get a pen.” Murphy fumbled around for a moment, shuffling papers on the table, in the event Josephson became suspicious. It would appear to be a call from the field supervisor. “What do you want us to do?”
“Get Jill and the kids. I need the car and as many supplies as you can get together in a few minutes. Tell Joe we received new orders. Tell him we’re moving them to a safe house and that he needs to wait there for me and Petrie to come back.”
“Okay, sir. I think I’ve got it. We’ll be outta here in twenty.”
“Murph, make it fifteen. Jesus, make it ten if you can. I’ll be there. I’ll cover you from the woods just beyond the car.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jillian was still awake and lounging on the bed in the corner. She couldn’t let herself fall asleep. Not yet. Not until Luke returned. They’d been gone an awfully long time. She rubbed at the goose bumps rising on her arms. What was keeping them?
She tried to block it out. Tried to focus on the inane program on the telly. Tried to swallow the irrational fear that something was terribly wrong. She hated feeling so vulnerable, hated needing Luke so very much. She couldn’t shake the memory of him diving across the bed to protect her. When Petrie had sounded the alarm, Luke had reacted in a heartbeat, had been on top of her, covering her in seconds.
She’d watched him transform into a warrior, his eyes burning with a frightening intensity that she’d never seen before. His battle face was deadly calm as he’d focused completely on the task at hand. She knew in that moment that he would not hesitate to kill anyone foolish enough to cross the threshold of the door. She also knew he would not hesitate to die for her—for anyone he was forced to protect.
It was the dying part that bothered her most. She didn’t want Luke to die. Even if she couldn’t have him, she wanted him to live. He was fearlessly worthy of living. He deserved to find happiness with someone.
She glanced up when Murphy strolled over to the bed and sat on the edge.
“Hey, I need your help.” His voice was casual, but his eyes weren’t. His expression was rigidly serious and Jillian immediately sat up.
“What?”
“We just received word that I’m moving you outta here. Can you be ready in ten minutes?”
“Luke? What about Lu—”
“Once he’s back, he’ll join us.” Murphy cocked his head slightly in the direction of Josephson who had methodically started packing toys and clothes into a suitcase. He lowered his voice and leaned into her as though he was about to brush something from her shoulder.
“Trust me.”
Her eyes widened in understanding. Whatever was going on had something to do with Luke. She rose from the bed and began stuffing Sarah’s diaper bag.
She shivered in spite of her heavy sweatshirt. The wind had turned chilly, the night damp and sinister as she crept along the outside corridor of their hotel. Someone had turned out the lights and it was difficult to see where she was going. Holding Sarah in her arms, she felt dangerously exposed. What if someone was out there watching them? Danny Murphy tugged gently on her arm, guiding her hurriedly through the shadows. He hadn’t spoken since they’d left the room. She knew that just beyond the shadows, Josephson covered their backs, his weapon drawn and ready.
Poor Murphy would have to make yet another trip with James and Samuel. She prayed they would be quiet, prayed Samuel would remain asleep until they were safely away. She felt the rush of cool air hit her face when they emerged from the covered staircase and stumbled when Murphy quickened their pace. His hand squeezed her arm in signal as they approached the car.
A shadow loomed up from the darkness beyond the car. Before Jillian could shout a warning to Murphy, a hand clapped over her mouth, cutting off her scream.
Chapter 9
“Shh-hh. Jilly it’s me.”
She sagged against him, relief pouring through her veins when Luke gave her a quick hug and then pushed her into the car.
“You check the car?” She heard Murphy whispering to Luke.
“It’s clean.”
“Underneath?”
“Ditto. Are we worried about Joe?”
“Reacted fine. Didn’t seem to have a problem.” He actually smiled at Luke. “Guess I’ll find out, huh?”
“Be careful. I’ll keep an eye on him for you.” Luke ducked back into the shadows as Murphy jogged across the parking lot and l
aunched up the stairs.
Jillian sat in the back seat, Sarah still cradled against her chest. It was eerily quiet for several minutes and she turned in her seat. Luke was nowhere to be seen. Had she only imagined his presence? She heard a soft tap on her window and jumped. Lord, he was only a foot away and she hadn’t heard a sound.
“Get down on the floor and stay down. Don’t move around.” He was gone again before she could respond. She squeezed herself onto the floor and tucked her head over Sarah’s. A few minutes later she heard James slide into the back seat, heard Murphy order him to the floor. Still asleep, Samuel was laid across the seat and covered with a dark blanket.
“Jilly? You in here?”
She smiled. She would have sworn that James actually sounded nervous. “Yes, James,” she whispered. “Stay down, love. We musn’t talk.”
She heard him shift quietly, heard the murmur of voices just outside her window. Not a minute later Luke slipped into the car and started the engine. He smelled of night air and sweat and gunpowder and tension, and she wondered what hell he had endured the past few hours.
“Luke?”
His gaze flicked down to meet hers for a scant moment. He shook his head as if to say “later,” then winked at her and turned his attention back to the road.
“Not now, babe. Stay down.” The quiet words belied the smile on his face. His voice sounded strained. The worry lines around his eyes only confirmed it. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.
Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath of the damp night air, she blew it out to steady her nerves. Anything to relieve the strain of uncertainty. Though he didn’t say a word, she knew Luke expected her to stay calm. Without having to look, she sensed him there, crouched low over the steering wheel. She could probably have reached out to touch him if she’d wanted but she didn’t have to. She could feel the intensity radiating from him when he maneuvered the sedan out onto the road. He practically throbbed with awareness of his surroundings. And despite being virtually certain that Luke had more bad news to tell her, she relaxed. For the first time in the past several hours, she felt a sense of composure settle over her. They were with Luke. They were safe.
For Her Protection Page 16