Relentless

by Leigh, Jo

  “Nope. It drove my ex crazy.”

  “I can see why.”

  He looked at her with his odd blue eyes. “I get the job done.”

  “Too bad you’re not out tracking the men who killed your friend.”

  His lips curled slightly. “I’m not the only persistent one in the car.”

  She didn’t respond. Not for a long time. But she kept watching him, wondering how he was going to take it when she vanished. She felt bad for him. He’d keep trying, even though she knew once Nate got her out, Yarrow would never be able to find her. “Hey,” she said.

  “Hmm?”

  “What’s your name?”

  He smiled at her again, this time with a little warmth behind it. “Vince.”

  She repeated it to herself. It seemed right. Maybe, when it was all over with Omicron, when she was Katherine once again, she’d get in touch with Vince Yarrow, and she’d apologize. But for now, her lies were the only thing standing between her and a very ugly death.

  Chapter 5

  Vince turned on the familiar street, a little used road in an old section of Tujunga where his mother had lived for eighteen years. The old place looked like a dump—his fault. He should have made it a point to come out here more often. He was an only child, and, in her last years, his mother hadn’t had many friends.

  There’d been the regular visits from the home health workers, and from Meals on Wheels, but she’d been lonely. He’d known it. He hadn’t done enough about it.

  Now, after her death, he was here whenever he could find some time, boxing up her life to give to Goodwill. Getting ready to sell the place.

  Kate hadn’t said much. He kept thinking about who she was and what she was running from. Her reaction to the shooting had been way too calm for a woman with no violence in her past. So what was it? Had she gotten mixed up with drugs? Killers?

  He still didn’t buy the stalker theory, not totally, but there had been danger in her past. At least now he’d have her to himself, at least for a little while, and his intention was to get her defenses down. He didn’t give a shit about her past. He was willing to bargain away her sins. He might be suspended, but he still had friends in the District Attorney’s office. All he cared about was her testimony.

  He turned into the bare driveway and stopped the car. There was no automatic garage opener here. He’d meant to put one in years ago. It was on his list of improvements. Way at the bottom of the list.

  He got out, opened the garage, then drove into the dark space. A couple of rows of boxes, mostly clothes and linens, lined the side wall, but he’d barely scratched the surface. His mother had saved every damn thing she’d ever had.

  “Is this your place?” Kate asked.

  “No. It belonged to my mother.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Dead,” he said, as he turned off the engine. “Let’s go.”

  Kate got out of the car, and he opened the trunk before closing the garage. She pulled out her box, and he took her suitcase into the small house.

  It had been a good size for his mom. One bedroom, plenty of closets, not a lot of places she’d have to clean. It was a perfect place to hide Kate. Not a lot of people knew about this place. His ex-wife, his boss, his partner. The real estate woman. That was about it. There was no phone, although he’d kept the cable TV.

  He walked Kate down the long central hallway, not bothering to point out the living room, kitchen or bath. At the end of the house was the bedroom. Most of the weekends he spent here, he’d slept on the couch by the TV. But he’d tried out the bed a few times, and it was pretty damn comfortable. Hell, it was miles above the sleazy motel.

  He watched Kate look around at the flowery room. Bedspread, pillow shams, dust ruffle and curtains were all the same. Old-fashioned and sentimental, which was his mother to a T.

  “The dresser and closet are both empty, so you can put your stuff away there.”

  “I’m not going to be here long enough to unpack,” she said.

  He put her suitcase on the bed. “No? Planning on leaving the country?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I just can’t stay in your mother’s house indefinitely. I have to find a job. I have to buy a car, remember?”

  “Huh,” he said. “Here I was, thinking you were pretty smart.”

  She put the box and her tote down by the closet door. When she turned to him, there was no amusement in her eyes. “I understand these people believe I saw them. And I understand that they want me not to testify. So as soon as you tell your reporter friend that I saw nothing and that I’m not going to testify, the problem will be solved.”

  He smiled. “Okay, not stupid. Just naive.”

  “Gee, I wonder why you’re not married anymore?”

  “It had nothing to do with my honesty.”

  “I assume there’s a bathroom in this house?”

  “Everything’s off the hall. I’m going to make some coffee. I think there’s some tea, somewhere.”

  “Coffee’s fine. Thanks.”

  She left, and he was very tempted to go to the box of hers and see what was so precious. It wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do, but was nice his objective?

  Kate stepped back into the bedroom, giving him a jolt. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stay out of this room as long as I’m your guest here.”

  “Hey.”

  “Honesty, remember? Isn’t that how we’re going to play it?”

  “Okay, fine. Jeez.”

  She waited until he was in the hall, then she shut the door behind her. He headed for the kitchen, needing that coffee. He kept the house stocked with the basics, but not much more. Luckily, there was a local market that delivered. He’d have Kate put together a list of what she needed.

  Meanwhile, he pondered the forbidden box as he counted out the coffee.

  Kate locked the bathroom door, then turned on the water in the sink. She doubted Vince would eavesdrop, but she was taking no chances. With anything. She’d seen his interest in the box that held the ledgers, so she’d put a small piece of tape between the top and the base. If he snooped, she’d know.

  She pressed Nate’s speed dial, and waited as the phone rang. When she got his voice mail, she debated telling him her circumstances. It was never a good idea to leave a trail of any kind. Instead, she asked him to call her.

  She thought about Yarrow, about why he’d brought her here instead of taking her to the police station. Of course, he wanted to break her. That was a given. And he wanted her to live so she could get on the stand. But his mother’s house?

  He probably didn’t want her to see his place. That made sense. He didn’t know her at all. And she had the feeling he thought she was a fugitive. She wondered what his reaction would be if she told him the truth.

  It didn’t matter. She wasn’t saying a word. And she wasn’t staying long. As soon as Nate called back, they’d figure out a way to spring her. The car was unfortunate. A new one would use up more of their precious resources. But she wasn’t worried about the gang. She wouldn’t be Kate Rydell any longer, and she wouldn’t be living in L.A. At least not near downtown.

  Maybe heading off to Colorado was the right move. She could forget all this and carry on with her work. She sat down on the edge of the bathtub. She had a bad headache, probably from all the adrenaline from this morning. She could have been killed.

  It was odd how many times people had tried to kill her. Most people go their whole lives without that little pleasure. Not her. She wasn’t a soldier, she wasn’t a bad guy. She was just Kate, a forensic accountant, and yet she was marked for death, not just from a rogue CIA organization but now from a street gang. Neato.

  How she wished it was all over. Her fantasies centered around going back to the world she’d once known, but in her saner moments she wondered if that would even be possible. She wasn’t the same person, not by a long shot.

  She trusted exactly six people. Well, that wasn’t true because she trusted her family. But
they thought she was dead, so she couldn’t turn to them for help. Nope, her world consisted of the people she’d met in Kosovo, the people who were willing to sacrifice their lives to stop a terrible wrong.

  It had started off so simply. Some discrepancies in the books. And because she’d been trained to search out every detail, she’d followed the trail. Right to Omicron. They had created a chemical weapon, one that was as virulent and deadly as VX. It was easily transportable and completely odorless, and it would stick to whatever surface it touched. The real horror was that neither atropine or 2-PAM chloride worked as an antidote. The nerve agent could kill a tremendous number of people with a relatively small payload. And despite the ban on chemical warfare, Omicron had every intention of selling this stuff to some very nasty people. People who didn’t have any qualms about genocide.

  And when the truth had been discovered—by her, by Harper, by Nate’s team—they’d had no qualms about killing those who’d found them out.

  A knock on the door startled her. “Yes?”

  “Coffee’s ready.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be right there.” She stood, shoving her sadness away. Action was the best remedy for the heartsickness that threatened to overwhelm. She had to get back to those ledgers. To recreate the paper trail. But she couldn’t do it with Vince on her tail. She had to get out.

  After a dissatisfying glimpse of herself in the mirror, she left the bathroom in search of coffee. Vince had already fixed himself a cup and he was standing against the sink, watching the door. He’d put out cream and sugar and even a few packages of sugar substitute. Nice. Not nice enough to get her to betray her friends, but still.

  She fixed herself a cup, then did a quick visual of the kitchen. Like the bedroom, it looked as if a little old woman had lived there. Teapots, which she found appealing, doilies and the omnipresent flowers on the curtains and the tablecloth. The room made her think of her grandmother’s place. It was sweet, if a bit closed in.

  “There’s a notepad on the table. Write down what you need from the store, and I’ll get it.”

  “I’m sure whatever you have is fine.”

  He pushed himself away from the sink and opened the fridge. “I doubt that. Unless you’re into imported beer, mustard and really old leftover Chinese.”

  She looked for herself and saw he wasn’t exaggerating. Then she went to the small pantry at the back wall, and there wasn’t much to thrive on there, either. Some soup, mostly chicken and stars, some cans of assorted vegetables, lots of flour and baking soda. But nothing that was easy and neat. “Fine. I’ll write a few things down.”

  “Plan for the week.” Vince finished his coffee and poured himself a second cup.

  “A few days, at the most.”

  He didn’t look at her as he put the coffeepot back. “You know how long I’ve been working the gang unit?”

  “No,” she said, not wanting to hear this lecture. She sat down by the notepad and tried to think of what she wanted him to buy. The temptation was to list terribly expensive things just to be arbitrary, but she wouldn’t. He was, after all, simply doing his job.

  “Three years. It’s a long time. Most cops get out after a year. If they last that long.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You know why?”

  She looked up. “Because gangs are violent, have laws unto themselves, and they don’t care who they kill.”

  “That’s about right. They take pride in killing. Anyone outside their personal gang is fair game. And they don’t tend to notice the finer details, either. Even if the cover of tomorrow’s Times included sworn affidavits that you didn’t see a thing and that you’d never testify, they would come after you. They will come after you. They won’t stop until you’re dead. That’s not conjecture. It’s fact.”

  “They can’t kill me if they can’t find me.”

  “There are gangs in every state of the union. There’s no place you can hide.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it. Listen, Vince. I hope it’s okay to call you that, but since I’m giving you my grocery list…”

  “Vince is fine.”

  “You don’t have to lie to me. I understand I’m in danger. I also understand that it’s you who put me here. So pardon me if I don’t exactly trust you to be my personal hero. I know what you want, and I can’t give it to you. That’s not going to change, even if that gang were right outside.”

  He sat down across from her. “That makes me very sad, Kate. Because Tim deserves better.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry you lost your friend.”

  “He wasn’t just a friend. He was my personal hero. One of them, at least. He was actually making a difference out there. Hundreds of kids were choosing not to be in gangs. They would pile into his crappy building and do their homework, or play ball or just talk. They liked him and they believed in him, and some of them got killed for it. But he kept fighting. They’d tried to kill him before, but man, he figured he was bulletproof. Of course, now we know he was wrong. His wife, who, by the way, is a really nice lady, is going to try to continue his work, but I don’t think she’ll have much luck. Those kids, they were there because of Tim. He had a way about him.”

  She stared at the paper in front of her, unwilling to meet Vince’s gaze.

  “So all those kids, the ones who would have been going to Tim’s place, are gonna end up in the gangs. And most of them are gonna end up dead.”

  “I can’t help that.”

  “No, but you can take a stand. If we can convict those who are responsible, some of those kids will continue to fight. Not many, but enough. And maybe one of those kids will pick up Tim’s message.”

  “What about you?”

  “Me? Nah. Once this is done, I’m out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’m out. Done. I’m giving them back my badge.”

  “Why? It’s clear you’re impassioned about this. That you care deeply.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “What will you do?”

  “No idea. I thought about getting a little boat. Maybe take tourists out fishing.”

  “I don’t believe it. I think you care too much to walk away.”

  “Kate, I hate to tell you, but I don’t care what you believe. I just care that you tell me the truth.”

  She sighed. Then started filling out her list. Tea, of course. Milk. Cereal. Some fresh fruits and vegetables. She loved to cook, and she had several favorites she’d learned to make in Kosovo, but she didn’t put down any of the exotic ingredients. So she listed things that were simple—pasta, chicken, hamburger. Things he’d use once she was gone.

  Vince’s cell phone rang and he took it out of his pocket. “Yarrow.”

  She kept putting down food items, but she also listened. It wasn’t easy to make sense of everything, since Yarrow was pretty cryptic, but she gathered that it was his partner and that the news wasn’t terribly good. There was mention of Baker and of the Captain. Vince’s frown confirmed her impressions.

  He hung up, but he didn’t put the phone away. “You about finished?”

  She nodded. Whatever she’d forgotten, she could live without.

  He went to the sideboard and pulled a phone book from the bottom of a stack of books. She couldn’t see what he looked up, but when he called, then said he wanted to place an order, she knew it was the grocery store. One that delivered.

  Damn, she’d figured she’d have some maneuvering room when he went shopping. It didn’t matter. The guys would get her out cleanly, especially now that she had his address. They were very good at that kind of thing.

  She handed him the list, then took her coffee into the living room. The only thing relatively new in the place was the TV. The couches and the coffee table all looked decades old and worn. There were a couple of pictures on the wall, the kind most often found in motel chains. The curtains were dull and dusty, as was the carpet. It was a sad room, not even counting the two empty beer bottles leaning against the
bottom of the couch.

  The pictures on the fireplace mantel drew her attention. Vince must have been an only child. There he was as a toddler and as a teenager in a baseball uniform. He’d been an adorable kid and an even better looking young man. She looked back at him in the kitchen. He still was handsome as hell. Of course, it would be interesting to see him all cleaned up, but even so she could see the appeal.

  Something shifted inside, and it took a moment for her to recognize the feeling. It was interest. And it was all sexual. Wow, it had been a long time since that had come her way.

  Of course, she wouldn’t do a thing about it. But it was fascinating, nonetheless. She’d forgotten how it felt. Which was probably for the best. She couldn’t get close to anyone. Not for any reason. Especially not just to scratch that particular itch.

  But it didn’t hurt to think about it, if only for a moment.

  When he looked up at her, she turned away. No, she was wrong. Even a moment was too long.

  * * * * *

  VINCE PUT HIS CELL AWAY. He wished he’d packed all the pictures. They were personal, and the way Kate was studying them made him uncomfortable.

  What was it going to take to break her? He didn’t want to cause her pain, but dammit. He had to know what she knew. If he could just get inside that wall of hers. Everything she did was measured and controlled. So careful, it was as if she expected landmines under the carpet.

  He walked through the kitchen into the laundry room, and he shut the door behind him. Then he got out his cell and hit Redial. When the nice lady answered, he added a few things to his order. Red wine. White wine. Bourbon. Vodka. And just in case, a fifth of tequila.

  Who knows? It might even work. And if it didn’t? He wouldn’t care half so much.

  Chapter 6

  He lay on the couch, listening to the quiet of the house, thinking about the woman in the bedroom. Kate intrigued him. Not just because she had something he wanted, either. He’d always loved a mystery, and man, she was nothing but secrets.