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Pawn

Page 7

by Carla Cassidy


  She dropped her suitcase and briefcase to the floor and took a moment to explore. A tiny closet would hold what few clothes she'd brought and the bathroom had a stand-up shower, but no tub.

  She assumed the new shiny phone outlet near the kitchen table would provide Internet access and she quickly set up her computer there.

  It took her less than half an hour to finish unpacking, then she went to the single window the apartment boasted and opened the blinds to stare out into the night.

  From this vantage point she could not only see the bar on the corner but could also hear the music that poured out of the establishment.

  If she focused her hearing she knew she'd be able to distinguish the deep voices of the men standing in front of the door of the place, even hear the clink of glasses from inside and the brush of jean-clad legs as people walked in and out.

  She'd learned as a young child how to tune out the sounds that created a mindless cacophony in her head due to her acute hearing abilities. It had been a skill of survival.

  She closed the blinds and rubbed eyes that felt gritty from exhaustion. She'd hoped to catch a little sleep on the plane, but a squalling, kicking toddler in the seat directly behind her had made that impossible.

  A sudden thought struck her. She'd left Phoenix without telling anyone where she was going or how long she'd be gone. If something happened to her here, she didn't trust the authorities to see to it that any of her friends or any of her family heard about it.

  On impulse she got up and dug her cell phone out of her purse, then punched in the numbers that would connect her to her sister, Faith.

  As she waited for Faith to answer, she walked back to the window and stared out at the dismal surroundings. Several motorcycles were now parked in front of the bar and the group of men milling about had grown. Through the glass of the window she could hear their voices talking and laughing with each other.

  "Lynn?" Her sister's voice sounded sleepy. It must be after midnight in New Orleans.

  "Hi, sis." Lynn moved away from the window and returned to the sofa. "I know it's late but I just felt like it was time for a quick check-in. How are you?"

  "Where are you?" Faith demanded.

  "I took a couple of weeks off and decided to visit Miami," Lynn said.

  There was a long pause. "Are you in trouble, Lynn?"

  There were times when Lynn thought it was cool to have a sister who had psychic abilities, but it sucked when she had secrets she didn't want her sister to know.

  "No, it's nothing like that," Lynn replied and hoped she convinced Faith. "I just got a little homesick for Miami. So, how is Roy? You two still an item?" It was a conscious effort on Lynn's part to change the subject.

  "As far as I'm concerned he's still the hottest detective in the world. He makes me happy, Lynn. What about you? Have you finally taken pity on that lovesick neighbor of yours?"

  Lynn laughed and easily imagined her sister with her golden blond hair and eyes that looked so much like Lynn's own. "No, and don't hold your breath where Leo is concerned."

  There was another long pause. "You sure you're all right, Lynn? I'm definitely picking up some strange vibes from you."

  "Maybe you're just suffering a little indigestion," Lynn replied with forced lightness. The last thing she wanted was for Faith to worry about her. She had enough to worry about working with the police and using her psychic abilities to help crack difficult cases. "I'm fine, really. I just got in and if you hear anything in my voice, it's probably nothing more than exhaustion."

  "Then get to bed," Faith said sternly. "And call me tomorrow." She paused a long moment. "Lynn, does this trip to Miami have anything to do with a certain man?"

  "I don't know…maybe." It was far easier to let Faith think that this trip to Miami was motivated by a man. Faith knew all about Lynn's past relationship with Nick.

  "Unfinished business," Faith said. "You two never really had a definitive end to things. Just don't get hurt, Lynnie."

  "Believe me, that's the last thing I want to happen."

  The sisters said their goodbyes, then Lynn hung up. She shook her head ruefully. She should have known better than to call Faith. When she'd felt the need to connect with somebody, she should have called Dawn. At least Dawnie didn't have psychic abilities.

  But, Dawn was currently off on an adventure—Dawn-speak for dangerous covert mission—in Europe with the man in her life, Des Asher. It was always more difficult to get hold of Dawn than it was to connect by phone with Faith.

  Bone weary, she sank down on the threadbare sofa-sleeper, trying to decide if she wanted to make it into a bed or just crash on it in sofa form.

  Her eyes grew heavy and she was almost asleep when she heard the faint sound of knuckles rapping on her door. She shot up like a cow poked with a cattle prod, adrenaline spiking through her.

  Who was at her door? How many of those rough-looking men on the corner might have seen her arrive, a slender young woman all alone? It was possible that one of them had seen her as an opportunity, an easy mark to exploit.

  She moved to the door and strained to hear any sound from the other side. Nothing. Making certain the chain was firmly fastened, she unlocked the dead bolt and eased the door open just a fraction of an inch, just enough to peer out and see Nick.

  She quickly unfastened the chain and opened the door.

  "Nice place," he said dryly as he swept past her.

  "I can't say I'm overly thrilled with my new address," she replied as she refastened the locks then turned to face him.

  There was no denying it. She was glad to see him. "I'm assuming you're going to be my contact?" she asked, needing to confirm what she hoped was the truth.

  "That's what I was told as of this morning." His jaw knotted with tension. He placed a small black duffel bag on top of the table next to her computer.

  Did he hate the idea of working with her again? Was he harboring a grudge because she'd left Miami, left him and things between them had fallen apart? Or did he just not care? Had he never really cared?

  Business. She had to focus on business.

  "I wanted to make sure you'd gotten in okay and go over things with you before you officially start tomorrow night," he said.

  She nodded and there was a long moment of awkward silence. "I'd offer you something to drink but the cupboards are bare," she said as he sat at the small kitchenette table and gestured her into the chair opposite him.

  Once again she noticed the changes in him. When he'd worked for Jonas, he'd always been impeccably dressed and groomed. He'd looked smooth and debonair.

  Now, with his hair in need of a good cut and his jaw shadowed with a five o'clock beard, clad in worn jeans and a T-shirt advertising Harley Hogs, he looked as if he belonged on the mean streets outside. She even thought she smelled the faint aroma of cigarette smoke clinging to him.

  A chameleon. The man had the capacity to blend into any crowd, walk any street and look as if he belonged. She had a feeling it was part of what made him so good at undercover work. And even though he could use a shave and a haircut, there was no denying that he looked hot.

  "I'm glad to see you. I'm glad you're going to be my contact. You look well, Nick," she said, unable to stop herself.

  He grinned, that slow sexy smile that she remembered from the past, had cherished in her dreams. "Thanks, but I know I look like hell," he replied. His gaze swept the length of her and she was glad she'd decided to wear the forest-green dress that pulled the green from her eyes and complemented her chestnut hair. "You, on the other hand, look amazing."

  For just a moment as his warm gaze caressed her, it felt as if no time had passed between them, no distance had ever occurred. The awkwardness fell away and her heart stuttered in that old familiar way as her breath caught deep in her chest.

  There was a light in his eyes that made her believe he felt it, too, the spark, the magic that had once existed between them, that still existed and just waited for a breath of air to
ignite it into a full-blown fire once again.

  He cleared his throat and broke the moment by averting his gaze from her and to the bag on the table in front of him. "I brought you some surprises." He opened the zipper on the bag.

  "I don't suppose there's a cold beer in there?" she said, trying to keep the tone light and easy.

  He quirked a dark eyebrow. "Afraid not." Once again his long-lashed dark brown eyes met hers. "But, maybe when this is all over we can have a few cold brews together."

  "I'd like that." And more, she thought. "So, what have you brought me?"

  "A pretty pin for your blouse that is actually a transmitter. I want you to wear it to the dockyard each night. That way I'll be able to hear everything that's going on and will know if you get into trouble."

  "And what happens if I get caught and the authorities find the transmitter? How will I explain that away if according to the FBI I'm a lone wolf who's gone back to my criminal ways?" She couldn't keep a trace of bitterness from her voice.

  "If you get caught, you lose it. I've seen you move, Lynn. I know you can yank that thing off and toss it away in the blink of a man's eye." He frowned, and once again his jaw tensed into a knot. "Look, I don't like what the Feds are doing with you any more than you do. If I had my way I wouldn't have anything to do with this entire operation."

  '"So, why are you here now? I mean, you did what they requested of you—you convinced me that I had no alternative but to work for them."

  "I'm here partly because you requested me and partly because I don't trust anyone else to be as careful as I'll be to keep you safe."

  His words warmed her, but she wasn't about to get all gushy and silly.

  The sight of him might cause her heart to beat a little faster, her memories of him could stir her on one level, but despite his words she still felt an emotional distance radiating from him that kept those old feelings in check.

  "I asked for you because you're the only agent I felt I could trust to watch my back. I don't trust any of those other bastards." Although William Stewart hadn't been bad.

  Again that charming smile curved his lips. "Welcome to my world."

  "It's a hell of a way to live," she replied.

  He nodded. "I told you the other night, the men in charge of this particular operation aren't the kind of FBI men I usually work for. They play hardball like nobody I've ever worked with before."

  "You've got that right," she replied. "What else do you have in that bag of tricks?"

  He reached inside the duffel bag. "A handheld radiation scanner." He pulled the piece of equipment out and laid it on the table between them. "I was told you knew how to use it."

  She nodded. "Part of my training before I left Phoenix."

  "My last surprise for you is a prepaid phone, a throwaway. It's programmed to speed dial another prepaid phone, one that I have in my pocket. It's for emergency use only."

  He placed the phone on the table and once again eyed her intently. "I'm sure they told you how dangerous this is."

  "They did."

  Raking a hand through his hair, he stood and walked over to the window. He flipped open the blinds and stared out, not speaking for several minutes.

  She watched him as he stood motionless, noting the breadth of his shoulders, his slim hips and long legs. He wore a pair of jeans better than any man she'd ever known.

  He turned to face her once again and his eyes were dark, his expression enigmatic. "I can only give you three hours a night, Lynn. I've got something else going on that requires the rest of my time. That means for twenty-one hours a day you're on your own in this ungodly neighborhood."

  "I'm a big girl. I know how to take care of myself."

  "You'll have to." He looked at his watch and frowned. "I need to go now, but I'll be back here tomorrow night by midnight."

  She got up from the table and walked the short distance with him to her door. She unfastened the chain and twisted the dead bolt, then turned back to face him.

  "Thank you, Nick. Thank you for working this with me."

  He raised a hand, as if to touch her face, but quickly dropped it to his side. "It's the least I can do considering I was partially responsible for getting you into this mess."

  "I know how these people work, I know you didn't have any choice in coming to talk to me. No hard feelings."

  He cocked his head to one side. "No hard feelings about anything?"

  Suddenly their past came between them. It begged to be addressed, needed to be somehow resolved. "Why would I have hard feelings about anything? I was the one who left, Nick. I was the one who left you and Miami behind."

  This time when he raised his hand it was to lightly touch her face. His fingertips were warm as they trailed down her cheek to her jaw, then fell away. "You had to go. There were things you needed to do, things you needed to find out." His gaze was as warm as his fingers and in the depths of them Lynn saw a whisper of desire. It was there only a moment, then gone.

  He jammed his hands into his pockets. "It's over and done. We can't let the past interfere with our job. Things are different now, we're different." He checked his watch once again and frowned. "I really need to get out of here. I'll see you tomorrow night at midnight."

  The minute he slid out the door, Lynn once again locked it up tight, then leaned against it and drew in a deep breath. A sense of disturbing disquiet swept through her.

  He'd said and done all the right things. But, what bothered her was that the only man she trusted, the "partner" who professed he'd have her back, had dark secrets in his eyes, secrets that made her worry that ultimately she could trust nobody but herself.

  AS NICK LEFT the apartment building his gaze shot first left, then right, making sure that nobody looking for trouble was nearby. At least his car was still parked where he'd left it. In this kind of neighborhood you never knew what to expect.

  He slid behind the steering wheel, locked his doors, then leaned his head back against the seat and wondered how in the hell he was going to survive the next couple of weeks.

  It was unprecedented that an agent would work two undercover assignments at the same time. This was the biggest risk Nick had ever taken and in his years of working for the bureau he'd taken plenty of risks.

  He dragged a hand down his lower jaw, sat up straight and started the engine. He was exhausted and knew that state was only going to get worse. He had the undercover job he was working in Raymore and now the added stress of being here for Lynn three hours a night.

  But he couldn't not be here for Lynn. When he'd heard she'd requested him, had been told what they were asking of her, he'd wanted to be here for her.

  Nick had enjoyed the company of many women in his thirty years of life, but none of them had affected him as deeply, as profoundly as Lynn.

  She was the one he'd been unable to forget, the only one who haunted him with thoughts of what might have been. He'd come along in her life at a time when she'd needed things he couldn't offer her. She'd needed to discover who she was, where she'd come from, and to rebuild a life destroyed by lies.

  Seeing her again had stirred up old desires, had fired up new wants. He'd thought he'd put her behind him, but the minute he'd laid eyes on her he'd realized she'd never really been out of his heart.

  She'd looked dynamite in that sexy green dress and he'd been struck by the desire to unfasten the little buttons that had run down the front, slide it off her shoulders and take his pleasure in kissing each and every inch of exposed skin.

  But the timing for their relationship the first time around had been all wrong, and it was even worse now.

  He pulled away from the curb and headed back to his life in Raymore, a small town less than an hour away.

  If he survived his assignment in Raymore he intended to take time off, reassess what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He'd been undercover on one assignment or another for the past seven years. He was tired of living lies and moving in the shadows. When this was all over he
wanted to find a life that was truly his, one that required no lies and no secrets.

  But, in order to accomplish that, he had to survive both the undercover work in Raymore and this new assignment working with Lynn. He couldn't tell her about the Raymore job, couldn't risk her having information that would not only put his own life at risk, but the lives of other agents working there.

  This particular operation was the most elaborate Nick had ever been involved in and nothing could jeopardize the efforts to bring down a major drug operation. The complicated scheme had required Nick to make a personal sacrifice, one that would keep him from acting on any desire he might feel for Lynn.

  He'd already gone against orders where she was concerned by giving her the prepaid cell phone. He'd been ordered to work with her only as a contact, to not interfere in any way, ride to the rescue or have contact with her outside of the three hours a night.

  If the men in charge knew he'd given her a cell phone where he could reach her, he'd be yanked off the case and eventually find himself working a detail in some Podunk town in the middle of nowhere.

  The men who'd made the rules wanted her flying solo so that if she fell nothing could be traced back to them. They were covering their asses at the expense of her safety.

  What bothered him was that Raymore wasn't that far away from Miami and this part of the city wasn't unfamiliar to the men who marketed the drugs that the operation in Raymore produced.

  If there was any bleed over from one assignment to the other, it could spell not only his own death, but Lynn's death, as well.

  Chapter 6

  Lynn's hands trembled as she pulled up the black Lycra leggings that fit her like a second skin. It had been a long time since she'd worn the tight pants and matching hoodie with the pouch in the front.

  They were clothes designed for a thief, black as the shadows of the night and tight enough that no material could be grabbed to hinder escape or restrict her movements.

 

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