“Supervise, huh?” Shelby and Chase said in unison, their tones equally suspicious.
“Yes.” Liv scowled. “I told you there’s nothing happening with this guy, okay? Jeez.”
“Is that why you passed him off on Abby for his tour? Because you usually do those yourself.” Chase crossed his arms. “I think you’re avoiding him.”
“And I think you should mind your own business.” She snipped the scissors in his face for emphasis. “Unless you’d like me to trim a certain area of your anatomy.”
“Hey.” He backed away and grinned. “No need to get violent. Just sayin’, it’s odd.”
“Odd?” Liv scoffed. “There’s nothing odd about it. Blake needed to see me, so I asked Abby to show him around. Besides, if there was something going on between us, why would I go with him tomorrow?” She finished trimming the dog in front of her then moved him back into his cage. “Since when do you go in for all the office gossip, eh? That’s what’s odd, right there.”
“I can’t help it.” He slumped back against the counter. “Blake grounded me on paperwork duty, so I can’t escape it. Those people working in your office seriously need to get lives.”
“Got that right.” Liv wiped down the grooming area and swept the fur clippings off the floor, then stopped. “I wonder why Blake didn’t send you out on this transport thing too. Weird.”
“Who knows?” Chase shrugged. “Sometimes I think Henry makes his decisions for him these days.”
“Speaking of pets.” Shelby headed toward the special care room in the back. “Let me grab that tabby for you.”
Liv waited until she and Chase were alone before she leaned in and whispered, “You don’t think my brother’s trying to play matchmaker again, do you?”
“Wouldn’t bet against it.” Chase shook his head.
“Here we are.” Shelby handed Liv a small cat carrier. The occupant inside meowed loudly. “We haven’t named him yet.”
“Ah, okay.” She took her new foster out to her SUV then returned for her purse, her mind preoccupied. If Blake was trying to set her and Tom up, that wasn’t good. She wasn’t looking for a relationship right now. And if he was hiring people just for their dating potential, that was hardly a good employment criterion.
“I’m going home guys,” she called into the back. “See you later.”
“See ya,” Shelby and Chase called out in unison.
As she walked back out into the crisp Las Vegas night, Liv steeled her resolve. Nope. If Blake was trying to get her to date Tom Bates, then he had another think coming. She was definitely not looking for romance—not with Tom or anybody else.
The cat meowed again as she climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Liv chuckled. Blake really would do better having Henry make those decisions for him if he thought setting her up on blind dates was a good idea.
Across town, Tom turned up the collar on his windbreaker and headed across Las Vegas Boulevard toward his little apartment on South Maryland Parkway. The place wasn’t much to write home about, but it was within walking distance of Rockford Security, so that was a plus.
He rounded a corner and damned near mowed down a tall, dark guy with a heavy five-o’clock shadow and a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. As they passed, Tom pulled out the thumb drive he’d been carrying and passed it to the man. All the details for his job in the morning were on there—at least all the info he’d been able to download before Brandon had shown up again.
Drop off complete, Tom quickened his steps, never looking back to see where the guy had gone. Tomorrow was his first mission, and he wanted to make damned sure he was at the top of his game to impress his new employers and avoid any suspicion on their part. He was ready for the job, one he intended to finish to the best of his abilities.
5
At eight sharp the next morning, Tom walked out onto the tarmac at McCarran International Airport and straight up to his new boss, Olivia Rockford. She stood beside a nondescript black SUV, one of three he’d been told would make up the convoy. Wind whistled through the otherwise deserted area, so apparently the other two vehicles hadn’t shown up yet.
The closer he got to her, the more her appearance seared into his brain. Truth was, he’d thought of little else since their rematch in the gym the night before—she was smart and tough and so damned beautiful. She reached into the back of the vehicle, and the way her black pants stretched over her body damned near made him swallow his own tongue.
Tom cleared his throat and lowered his head. Distractions of that sort weren’t allowed.
Not now.
This job was too important.
At the sound of his cough, Liv glanced back over her shoulder then straightened, her expression polite mixed with a hint of wariness. “Good morning.”
“’Morning.” He allowed himself one last look at her before transferring his attention to safer territory, like the chain-link fence running the perimeter of the area. Still, one look was all it took for him to see an errant strand of hair that had come loose from the tight bun at the nape of her neck, for his fingertips to itch to slip the lock behind her ear, for his lips to tingle thinking about their almost-kiss the night before and how damned much he wanted to make it a full-fledged, real kiss this morning.
“Ready for your first job?” Her voice had lost the husky edge it had held the night before and now sounded as crisp as the early morning air. “Big day.”
“Yeah. Big day.” His own words emerged rougher than he wanted due to the sudden constriction in his throat. He coughed and tried again as the other two vehicles grumbled to a stop nearby. “I’m ready. Looks like the cavalry’s arrived.”
“Yep.” Her pretty green gaze narrowed slightly on him before she looked away, and he would’ve sworn he saw a tiny flicker of attraction. She picked up a clipboard and ran a perfectly manicured finger down the paper, her hands trembling slightly.
Is she nervous to be alone with me too?
Before Tom could think about it further, several Rockford guards climbed out of each truck. He’d seen them briefly around the office but didn’t know any of them by name yet. Three men and a woman. He had been hoping maybe Abby would be on this detail too so there’d be at least one person he knew besides his boss, but nope.
The guards came over to where he stood.
“All right, crew,” Liv said, still clutching her clipboard in front of her chest like a shield. “I’ll inspect the vehicles to make sure everything’s in place, then we’ll get started. Don’t get too comfortable.”
He stood apart from the rest of the employees, listening in on their conversations without participating. This was only his second day, and he didn’t really know these people. Besides, he was here to observe as much as he could. The other guards discussed the weather, their kids, the latest sports scores, nothing all that interesting or earth shattering. Tom kicked a small rock with the toe of his boot and once more wished all this was over and done and he was back home again. God, he missed his family.
Ten minutes later, Liv returned, and all the other guards snapped to attention with military precision. Tom gave them a sideways glance and took his place at the end of the line.
“Okay, crew,” Liv said. “Franklin and Dobbs, you’re in vehicle two.”
One of the male guards and the female nodded and took off.
“Garrand and Phillips, you guys take vehicle three.”
The two remaining guards headed for the last SUV in line.
“That means you’re with me, Bates, at the head of the convoy.” Liv gave him a small smile.
“I feel honored.”
“Mr. Halverson will be riding with us as well.” She tossed the clipboard inside the vehicle and climbed in behind the wheel. “Get in front with me, Tom.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He hid his smile as they headed out onto a private airstrip set away from the busier areas of the airport. The other two trucks chugged along behind them until they reached a hanger near the far end of
the tarmac. A small private jet crawled from the cavernous opening, and as they drew closer, it stopped. Liv pulled to a stop near the gaping entrance and jammed the transmission into park, letting the engine idle. “Stay alert.”
“Okay.” He watched the other guards exit their vehicles and form a protective ring around his SUV. “What’s going on?”
“Keep your eyes peeled.” Liv opened her door and gestured for him to follow. “We can’t be too careful.”
They approached the hanger and a thin, squirrelly looking guy met them at the entrance. He looked maybe fifty and had an armored briefcase chained to one wrist. Liv held out her hand. “Mr. Halverson, I’m Olivia Rockford, and this is one of our guards, Tom Bates. We’ll be escorting you to your destination. If you’ll come with us, sir.”
Tom gave the man a polite nod as he passed and received nothing but a blank stare in return.
All righty then.
He took up position on the other side of their client, per the protocol brief he’d received the night before. The guy was apparently some type of assistant to their main client, Jessica Matheson. As they walked toward their SUV once more, Liv made a hand signal toward the other guards, and they remained in position. If he’d been there longer, maybe he would’ve known what that signal meant. As it was, he had no clue.
Liv assisted Mr. Halverson into the backseat of the SUV while Tom kept a lookout. Nothing suspicious yet. The other guards jogged over to their own vehicles now and got into position. Whatever they were guarding must already be in one of the trucks, since he hadn’t seen any type of transfer.
He climbed back into the vehicle beside her and buckled his seat belt. “Let’s roll.”
Liv gave him some serious side-eye. “Tamp it down, cowboy. We’re just getting started.”
Forget some mystery murderers. The silence was the real killer.
Liv wanted to turn on the radio, but that was against the rules. So she sighed and stared out the window again at the traffic ahead. And having Tom beside her, all strong and wordless, made the already high tension inside the SUV nearly unbearable.
She glanced up into the rearview mirror. Seemed she wasn’t the only one suffering.
Mr. Halverson fidgeted in his seat, looking sweaty and thoroughly uncomfortable. “How long until we get there, Ms. Rockford?” he asked, catching her gaze. “Is it always so hot in here?”
“About forty minutes if traffic is on our side.” Liv adjusted the vents and turned up the air conditioning, giving Tom a look as she did so. “Let me know when you’re cool enough, Mr. Halverson.”
They inched forward in the Vegas morning gridlock, and Liv shook her head. She and Blake had spent hours the day before planning the least crowded route. Too bad a water main had broken ahead, according to the news feed on her phone, and screwed up their perfectly timed plans. Maybe it was time to consider one of the alternate routes. Growing more impatient by the second, Liv struggled to see if relief was in sight but couldn’t. She glanced over at Tom, who had remained quiet thus far. “Can you see anything ahead?”
He leaned forward, causing the fabric of his company-issued windbreaker to stretch across his muscular back. She swallowed hard. Damn. He leaned closer to her and craned his neck in the other direction, and she caught a whiff of his spicy cologne again, along with a hint of that something special that was indefinably Tom. Deep in her core, heat unfurled despite her wishes to the contrary. They were working. This was business. Not a date.
Definitely not a date.
She cleared her throat and rested her elbow against the door, trying to increase the space between them. “See anything?”
“There’s a lot of heavy equipment out there.”
“Well, crap.” She grabbed her phone and texted the other two vehicles in the convoy, then hooked her device up to the SUV’s Bluetooth and onboard speakerphone system, then honked to alert the other drivers around her. “Guess it’s time for Plan B.”
“Plan B?”
“Yep.” She shifted into reverse and made a perfect three-point turnaround, heading across the median and back in the direction they’d come. “Truck one and two, are you with me?”
“We’re here, boss,” the other guards said over the airwaves. “What’s the 4-1-1?”
“The 4-1-1 is—” A plain white van swerved out in front of her, and Liv slammed on her brakes to avoid T-boning them. “Shit.”
“The 4-1-1 is shit?” The guard snickered. “Good one, boss.”
“No, dammit.” Liv gave the offending driver a few choice words and her middle finger, but he continued to just sit there, blocking her path. Unease sprouted in her and tangled into a knot. She glanced at Tom, then into the rearview mirror. “This isn’t right. Mr. Halverson, get down, please.”
Seconds later, bullets shattered the glass in their windshield. Gunfire whizzed around them, and Liv reacted on pure instinct. Ducking and peeking through the steering wheel, she gunned the engine and swerved around the van ahead, crashing into another SUV in their convoy and knocking it out of the way as she went. Beside her, Tom crouched as the windows in the passenger side shattered from another spray of ammunition. “We’re under attack!” She yelled into the Bluetooth, not knowing or caring who might still be listening. “I’m taking evasive measures.”
An alleyway beckoned in the distance, and she punched the accelerator, tires squealing as she turned sharply to head in that direction. Not ideal, especially since she had no idea where the dark street led, but her options were dwindling fast.
Careening into the alley, she kept her vision steady while her mind raced at a million miles a second. She’d trained for these scenarios, planned ahead, drilled emergency plans over and over. Yet nothing prepared you for the real thing. The real thing was all adrenaline and muscle memory and pure luck.
“Mr. Halverson?” she called. “Are you all right?”
No answer.
Fuck.
Liv glanced into her side mirror and spotted a motorcycle barreling toward them fast. Cursing, she popped open the glove compartment. Inside were two semiautomatic handguns. She grabbed one and signaled for Tom to take the other. “You know how to shoot, right?”
He clicked off the safety and chambered a round. “I’m ready.”
“Great.” She wished she shared his confidence. A solid brick wall loomed ahead, and her worst fears were realized. They were trapped. Liv slammed on her breaks and slid to a halt in a cloud of dust and gravel, inches from the wall. Dust swarmed around them, and her mouth felt dry as sandpaper. Pulse beating loud in her ears, she readied her own weapon then called out to the still unaccounted-for Mr. Halverson. “Stay down, sir.”
Tom leaned over to peer into the backseat. “Don’t think you need to worry about that.”
“Why? Is he hurt?”
“Worse.”
Aw, shit.
Seconds ticked by at a crawl. The only sound was the motorcycle rumbling ominously nearby, still unseen in the haze of their abrupt stop. Liv met Tom’s blue-gray gaze across the narrow space of the vehicle, their breath echoing. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
On three, they each wedged open their doors and climbed out, guns blazing. Liv aimed for the rear of the vehicle, squinted into the still-settling dust, and fired at anything that moved, while Tom targeted the front of the SUV.
Through the chaos, two masked figures appeared, firing weapons of their own, and she hid behind her open door for cover. One of the thugs jerked their hand to their face, and Liv thought she might have shot them, but they kept coming. Tom tried to duck behind his door too, but next thing she knew, he’d slumped back inside the vehicle, a tranquilizer dart protruding from one side of his neck.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
Liv checked the clip in her weapon then reached over to grab the one from Tom’s gun. Something sharp pricked her right shoulder, and from her peripheral vision, she saw a tuft of red feathers. Her world grew fuzzy.
Drugged.
I’ve been drugged.
“Help me…” she managed to say, praying the Bluetooth was still working, that someone might hear, as her world dissolved into blackness.
6
Rawrrrr. Rawrrrr. Rawrrrr.
Liv flinched away from the awful wailing noise. Her tongue felt permanently welded to the roof of her mouth, and she was tired… so, so tired. A hard slap to the cheek prevented her from drifting off into blessed dreamland again.
“Liv? C’mon, sis. Wake up.”
The garbled voice swam through the fog in her head, and reluctantly, she squinted her eyes open. Blake loomed over her like an avenging angel, his expression concerned.
“That’s it, sis. Stay with me.” He propped her up against something hard and shook her shoulders hard enough to rattle her teeth. “Liv, don’t you dare go back to sleep. Liv!”
“Stop it,” she managed to whine. “Don’t shake me or I’ll kick your ass.”
Blake chuckled. “Yeah, she’s okay.”
Reality slowly trickled back into place, and she blinked up into the blazing sunshine. People milled about, most dressed in police uniforms or EMT shirts. “What’s going on? What happened?” A blur of images bombarded her brain. The assignment. Mr. Halverson. Tom. “Is everyone all right?”
She struggled to move, but Blake held her in place as a paramedic checked her vitals. “Calm down, sis. There was nothing you could do. They ambushed your convoy.”
“Who?” Liv waited until the medic finished then pulled a blanket Blake had found tighter around herself. “Did you find out who it was? I tried to outmaneuver them, but there were too many of them. Is Tom okay? What about Mr. Halverson? And what about the heirloom?”
Blake exhaled and pointed toward an ambulance nearby. “Tom’s fine. The EMTs are checking him out now. Mr. Halverson, I’m afraid, didn’t make it.”
Guilt weighed down Liv’s stomach like a twenty-pound bowling ball. It had been her job to protect him, protect the heirloom, and she’d failed. She shivered despite the near-eighty-degree temperatures. “I’m sorry.”
Wicked Deception (The Rockford Security Series Book 5) Page 3