For Her Eyes Only (McCormack Security Agency)

by Curtis, Shannon

  She ducked her head. “Just don’t do it again,” she muttered.

  He chuckled. “Come on, let’s get back to the resort.”

  She looked back at the still-burning wreck. “What about...that? Shouldn’t we call someone?”

  He nodded. “I’ll let Drew know when I get back to the resort, and he can call it in. We don’t know if there were one or two people in the car. It could be that only half of the Maxwell partnership is dead. Of course, this will make it much easier to spot the other one. We just need to look for a guest without a partner.”

  She followed him back up to the road, her thoughts whirling. What a violent way to go. It was gruesome, to be smashed in a car then blown to pieces in a fireball. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be able to establish the identity of the driver, simply through a process of elimination—who was no longer at the resort? Then they’d be able to apprehend the other Maxwell.

  Case closed.

  “Where did you learn to drive like that?” Ryan asked as he slipped into the passenger seat. Vicky slid in behind the wheel and started to drive up the mountain.

  “My first job was as a courier.”

  Ryan gaped at her. “Is that a fact?”

  “Yep. Dad owns a freight-forwarding company. I started as a driver, worked my way through the logistics supply chain during school vacation. When I graduated I became an onboard courier, and then ended up at FEMA.”

  “An onboard courier? What does that mean?”

  “It means you carry a package as your luggage, you get it through customs, and you deliver it. Maybe even pick up a return package.”

  “What kind of package?”

  “The kind you don’t want customs or anyone else to know about. We had a few government contracts, some diplomatic stuff. We also had private contracts. I carried items that were too...delicate to send through normal channels.” She heard him twist in the seat to face her.

  “So you learned defensive driving as a courier?”

  She shrugged. “Among other things. Surveillance detection and evasion, some basic disguise elements, and self-defense.” She looked at him briefly. He wore a slightly stunned expression.

  “And FEMA? What did you do there?”

  “Well, first I was in Disaster Logistics. I deployed resources to disaster zones.”

  “You worked in disaster zones?”

  She nodded. It had been dangerous but rewarding work. When you were involved in rescues, or delivering supplies to service basic needs, like clean water, you felt like you were doing good, that what you did was important. Of course, there were some really bad times, too, and some memories stayed with you, no matter how much time passed.

  “But then I moved up to Disaster Response, which is basically planning and coordination. That’s how I met Orla. She and her father helped with medical assistance to victims whenever they could.”

  “Huh.” Ryan stared out of the window. “And that’s where you started?”

  “That’s where I started.” Odd, they’d never really talked about their pre-MSA lives before. “What about you?”

  Ryan kept his gazed fixed out of the window. “I joined the Army as soon as I was old enough. It was either that, or prison.”

  She darted a quick look at him, expecting his usual grin, and then realized he wasn’t joking. His expression had turned somber, and wherever his mind was, it wasn’t a happy place.

  “Were you a bad boy, Ryan?” She asked in an effort to lighten his mood.

  This time he did give her his customary grin, and she tried not to stare at his handsome features. It really did change his whole demeanor, that smile.

  “Was? Still am, Vic. Still am.”

  She was just turning into the gates to Ultima Resort when she realized that he hadn’t even argued with her about who was driving.

  The tires crunched over freshly fallen snow, and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

  “Time to hunt down the Maxwells,” Ryan said. She nodded. Her thoughts exactly.

  * * *

  Simon Maxwell climbed up to the road, gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain in his shoulder. He’d hit it against a tree when he’d jumped from the car as it went over the edge. He’d fallen and rolled, and had stayed still when the couple had come to investigate. Anger rose within him, and he clenched his gloved fists as he stumbled onto the road. He made it just in time to see the brake lights of the Winthrop car disappear.

  No, not Winthrop.

  They’d called each other by different names. He pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and started the long walk back to the resort, trying to ignore the biting wind. They were supposed to be at the bottom of the ravine, damn it. This couple had interfered with their plans just by showing up. Jade wouldn’t be very happy to hear how he’d screwed up the accident. She’d driven all the way to Chicago and back again in one night, and still turned up with a smile on her face the next day. He’d only had to go into town and had still managed to screw it up. But at least he’d learned something.

  He and Jade weren’t the only couple masquerading at Ultima.

  He smiled behind the turned up collar of his coat. Well, didn’t that make things interesting. He shouldn’t be so upset. He and Jade always enjoyed a challenge, and the Winthrops, or whoever they were, were nothing if not that. Ha. They thought they were under the radar, but Simon Maxwell was just too smart for them.

  He planted one foot in front of the other, his anger and hate slowly replaced with cool reason at every step. It was going to take a little while to get to the resort, time he hadn’t factored into their plans. He smiled, his cheeks tight in the cold wind. He was a chess champion, a Mensa master, if he’d bothered to take their pathetic exam. The Winthrops, hell, everyone, wouldn’t stand a chance against him. Only Jade knew him well enough to recognize his brilliance.

  The memory of Jade’s uncontrolled attack on the plastic surgeon’s daughter rose, and he shuddered. She was eerily magnificent, in her own creative way, although sometimes her cunning and wisdom took on extremely dark overtones. She’d fallen, his angel. She knew that they were meant to be together, and had believed him lost to her whilst he was in prison. When he’d found her, the recognition, the companionship, it had all come back.

  His steps quickened. By tomorrow night, he and Jade would be out of here, and Ultima Resort would be on the front page of every newspaper, headlining every news program. Nobody would have any idea who had taken such commanding control, who had cleverly orchestrated this operatic vendetta. Only he and Jade would be laughing, hopefully somewhere warm. He didn’t like the snow. That was probably why he’d screwed up the car accident. No, he hadn’t screwed it up—they had.

  It was all their fault. He and Jade had everything planned, and this couple had shown up out of nowhere. If it weren’t for their presence—for their interference—he wouldn’t be out chasing them around in a snowstorm.

  No, he and Jade would be finally getting their due.

  Lights loomed in the distance, pale and indistinct in the building snowstorm. The Ulitma Resort gates were in sight.

  He lifted his chin briefly. All of those years spent conning people. All of those years eking out a lucrative living off the vulnerability, gullibility and stupidity of others, came down to this. His heart rate quickened with excitement. They would get their revenge, and it would be spectacular. He thought of the Winthrops. There would be another chance to kill that couple.

  Just thinking about it brought a smile to his lips as he walked through the gates.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ryan led Vicky into the reception area. It was empty. He glanced about. He needed to find Drew, and then they’d all make the rounds of the guest cabins to discover who was missing, and in turn, who were the Maxwells.

  Drew came out
of the office suite, looking briefly over his shoulder before he noticed Ryan and Vicky. He lifted his chin in the direction of the “staff only” door that led to the labyrinthine corridors that enabled the staff to move unobtrusively throughout the main building.

  Ryan followed Drew into the corridor, Vicky close behind him. Once inside, Drew turned to them.

  “Sorry for the secrecy, there are still staff around. How is your knee?” he asked Vicky.

  She smiled. “Better, thanks.”

  “Did you guys have a good night, skylarking about while I worked?” Drew asked, stressing the last word.

  Ryan nodded. “We did, until someone tried to run us off the road.”

  Drew frowned. “What happened?”

  “They learned the hard way not to play chicken with Vic.” He couldn’t keep the note of pride from his tone. She’d done good, really, really good. She’d been cool and calm, totally in control. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it, seeing her in action was a turn-on. She’d managed to keep them alive, and thwart the enemy. He slid his arm around her shoulder and hugged her in close. Atta girl.

  After their conversation in the car, so many things made more sense about Vicky. She played down her background, her experience. She’d made it sound so cut and dry, so normal, but he’d seen action in Afghanistan and Iraq. He knew she’d had to have seen a lot of death and destruction of her own, and some of those situations would have been dangerous, yet she gave the impression of sunshine and light, untarnished by the dark of disruption and loss. It was probably why he’d felt so comfortable spending time with her, this instinctual companionship, the unspoken understanding and support.

  Drew gaped, gesturing between them. “You let her drive?”

  Ryan nodded. “Yep.”

  “You never let me drive.” His friend’s voice held a tinge of whine.

  “Nope.”

  Drew rolled his eyes. “Fine. Well, it’s been a slow night here. The only place I haven’t searched for the bug receiver is Meagan’s office—she interrupted me—and Dryden’s office, because he was having a late night meeting with someone. I didn’t see who it was, just heard voices. I’ll try again tomorrow morning. Neil’s office was squeaky clean. Like, squeaky. The guy must have OCD or something, because I swear I could eat off that desk. Probably his carpet, too.”

  “Did you see any of the guests arrive?” Ryan asked, more interested in who he didn’t see return from the Karaoke night.

  “Yep, all back, safe and sound.”

  “No, seriously, not just the cars, the people.”

  Drew nodded. “Like I said, all accounted for. Jennifer and Elliot were the first to arrive—does that woman ever crack a smile? Kurt and Paula came next, all over each other. Then Jeffrey and Margie, followed shortly by Hank and Deborah. I had to organize the oversnow vehicles for them.” Drew frowned. “Why?”

  “Because who ever tried to run us off the road got run off instead, so we were hoping that one of the couples would be missing a partner.” Ryan chewed his lip. He should have known it wouldn’t be easy, but damn, this was frustrating.

  Drew looked at Vicky. “You ran them off the road? Good job.”

  “Not just good, great,” Ryan corrected, and held her tighter. He just wanted to get his hands all over her. He liked to tell himself it was to assure him she was all right, but that would be lying. No, he just wanted to touch her.

  He forced his mind back onto the job. “Damn, I thought after the accident this would be a slam-dunk.” Maybe it was just a random road rage incident? He refrained from expressing that thought, because Vicky’s conscience seemed to be struggling with the unknown driver’s death.

  Drew grimaced. “Sorry. But I did hear back from Luke...”

  Ryan glanced at his friend. Drew looked like he was struggling to keep a straight face. Ryan sighed.

  “Spill it, Drew,” Vicky said, a resigned look on her face. She could read him, too.

  “Well, as a matter of fact, Luke researched the medications you both found in the other guest cabins. Deborah’s got fertility drugs in her drawer.”

  Ryan shrugged. “Okay, so their story kind of checks out. She’s said often enough that she’s trying to get pregnant.”

  “That’s so not fair for her,” Vicky stated, shaking her head. “And all for nothing. Can you imagine how those drugs affect her body, and there’s no way she’s going to get pregnant.” She turned to Drew, who now wore a confused look on his face. “Hank’s had a vasectomy.”

  Drew’s jaw dropped. “You don’t say.” He grinned. “This place just keeps getting better and better. It’s better than the soaps.”

  “Since when do you watch the soaps?” Ryan enquired, arching an eyebrow. He was seeing a whole new side of his colleague.

  Drew grimaced. “They’re usually showing one in the break room. The chicks in Housekeeping are mad for them.”

  “Ah,” Ryan said. So that’s how he hooked up with the maid. “Is there anything else from Luke?”

  Drew nodded. “Oh, yeah. The medication you found in Kurt and Paula’s room? She’s on hormones, too.”

  Ryan frowned, remembering her comment on top of the mountain about not wanting to have children. “She’s trying to get pregnant, too?” That didn’t make sense.

  Drew shook his head. “Nu-uh. She’s trying to stay a she.”

  Ryan blinked. Frowned. “Huh?” Drew’s remark wasn’t computing. Vicky wore a similar expression of stupefaction.

  “Apparently Paula was a Paul. She’s had a sex-change operation.”

  Vicky’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

  Drew nodded. “Yep. Luke was able to verify it from the prescription. She once was a man.”

  Ryan cocked his head. “I guess now we know why she was so definite about not having babies.”

  “You don’t suppose...” Vicky started, then shook her head. “No, that would be just way too screwed up, even for the Maxwells.”

  “What, that in making themselves over, they underwent a sex-change operation?” Drew nodded. “Yes, that would be too screwed up, even for the Maxwells.”

  “I can’t help feeling that I’ve stepped into some B-grade sci-fi movie. They changed their faces, for Pete’s sake. That is so twisted.” Ryan closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at his colleagues. “Okay, so it looks like Kurt and Paula are in the clear, and Hank and Deborah. That leaves Elliot and Jennifer and Jeffrey and Margie as potential Maxwells.”

  “And tonight’s the last night,” Drew said. “The retreat goes for one more day, and the guests leave tomorrow evening.”

  “I say we take the direct approach,” Vicky offered. “We call them by name, and see which one responds. Or at least flinches.”

  Ryan grinned. That was Vic. Direct and to the point. “That can be our Plan B,” he told her.

  She frowned up at him. “What’s our Plan A?”

  “I’m still working on that.”

  “Yeah, well, you keep working on it. I’m going to grab some shut-eye,” Drew told them.

  Ryan’s lips curled. “The maid is waiting for you, huh?”

  Drew’s smile stayed in place, but Ryan noticed something flicker in the man’s eyes. “Actually, no. She’s had to leave the resort.”

  Vicky leaned forward. “You hooked up? Here? On a case? That’s...” she looked him up and down, then shrugged. “Consistent.”

  Drew grimaced. “Yes, well, I must be losing my touch. She left.”

  Vicky’s expression immediately changed to one of sympathy. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Drew.” She stepped closer, and away from Ryan, and patted his arm. “Can I do anything to help?”

  Drew opened his mouth to respond, but Ryan interrupted him. “I think Drew’s a big boy, he’ll manage.” He could just imagine how Drew might want Vicky to “
help.” “I think we should call it a night. Can you let Luke know about the car? Can’t miss it, it’s the fireball. Authorities are more than likely there already, but we should call it in, anyway.”

  Drew nodded. “Will do. There’s a snowmobile parked out back for you to use to get back to your cabin. Catch you in the morning.”

  * * *

  Vicky rose from the snowmobile with shaky legs. Oh. Wow. The damn thing vibrated, and she’d nestled up to Ryan’s hips, feeling her breasts and groin throb and thrum against his back and butt. She’d totally enjoyed the experience, and he’d been totally oblivious. Well, that was going to change. After coming so close to losing Ryan tonight, and feeling that dark panic, that knife-edge of despair, she’d finally admitted it. She wanted more with Ryan. She wanted to ramp up their relationship, kick it to the next level. Show him, finally, how she really felt about him. The risk of never having at least the opportunity, having that regret, bolstered her courage.

  Kind of.

  With Deborah’s words of advice ringing in her ears, she’d decided that in order for Ryan to see her in a sexy light, she had to be sexier.

  Starting tonight.

  She walked up the path, thankful that Ryan was in front and couldn’t see her striding along like a cowgirl too long in the saddle.

  She’d managed to straighten herself out by the time they got to the door. Ryan stepped inside, and looked over his shoulder as she entered. “Did you want to shower first?” He asked. Polite. Considerate. Not aroused.

  He shucked off his shoes and placed them neatly in the wardrobe.

  I want to shower with you. “Sure.” She wished she had the courage to talk like that to him. Deborah said it was that kind of talk that got guys thinking about sex. That’s all it took. Some obscure mention, and they’d be obsessed, panting and eager.

  “I think I’ll go...shampoo.” She tried to say it seductively, pouting her lips on the last syllable, but didn’t want to come across as obvious and desperate. Subtle. Shampoo. Suds. Soon he’d be thinking of her covered in strategically placed bubbles that glistened all over her body. She looked at him from under her eyelashes. He looked...bemused.