Bulletproof SEAL

by Carol Ericson

  “She’s not. She turns in early. I remember David telling me that—it was supposedly another point of contention between them, since he liked to stay up late and sleep in when he wasn’t working, and Belinda preferred the opposite.”

  Quinn snorted. “Yeah, because that’s a good reason to cheat on someone and end a marriage.”

  “That was probably all a lie. He probably just wanted to compromise me to use me. I’m sure he never loved me. If Belinda is okay with his deceit and is happy to spend his blood money, they’re made for each other.”

  He clasped the back of her neck and squeezed it gently. “It’s not you. Dawson would’ve betrayed any partner.”

  “Okay, let’s do this.” She dropped her head to the side and kissed his wrist.

  The night air was heavy with the scent of magnolias from the park, and the sweet smell reminded her of the fragrant blooms in Jamaica and nights spent cradling Bella in the rocking chair in Mom’s garden.

  What was she doing here? She yearned to be back with her baby. She yearned to tell Quinn all about their daughter.

  But she couldn’t live her life as a dead woman.

  It didn’t take long for Quinn to break into Belinda’s house. In an odd stroke of luck, Belinda hadn’t enabled her alarm system.

  They stepped through the side door and Rikki held her breath as she looked around the living room where they’d been earlier this evening. Low lights from beneath the kitchen counters gave a soft glow to the room, and they didn’t even have to use their flashlights. What a nice welcome.

  Rikki made a beeline for the built-in bookshelf and tripped to a stop. With her gloved fingers, she tapped the empty space that David’s picture had occupied.

  She gestured to Quinn, still hovering by the door.

  He ducked next to her, and she whispered in his ear, “The picture is gone.”

  He swept the light from his phone across the photos on the shelves and swore softly under his breath. “I don’t like this, Rikki. We need to get out.”

  Her heart jumped, mimicking the urgency in his voice. “Wh-why?”

  “It’s all too convenient for us—the alarm system, the lights and now the missing picture. It’s almost like she expected us.”

  “Then why would she make it easy for us?”

  “To lure us in.” He grabbed her arm. “We’re done here.”

  Rikki twisted her head around for one last, longing look at that bookshelf as Quinn pulled her toward the side door—the door that hadn’t been double-locked.

  What had Belinda done with that incriminating picture? Had she realized the stupidity of showing it to a couple of CIA agents? Belinda had probably figured nobody would do a before-and-after comparison of her dead husband’s chest.

  Quinn hustled Rikki through the side door, and eased it closed. As soon as the door clicked, Rikki heard another click.

  “Get your hands up where I can see them.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A shot of adrenaline pumped through Quinn’s body and he dropped to the ground, making a grab for Rikki’s legs to take her down with him. But Rikki was two steps ahead of him, already on the ground and army-crawling toward the back of the house.

  A beam of light swept the space above them, bouncing off the door they’d just passed through.

  Staying low, Quinn lunged around the same corner where Rikki had just disappeared. His gun dug into his ribs. He left it there. Although any cop worth his salt would’ve lit up the scene by now with more than just a flashlight, Quinn couldn’t be sure that the Savannah PD didn’t have them at gunpoint. It could very well be some rookie cop on the other side of that click.

  Whoever it was hadn’t given them a second order. He probably couldn’t see them with the clouds wafting across the crescent moon and no lights illuminating the side of the house. That was another convenience Belinda had afforded them. She might have lured them to the dark side of the house, but she’d also just given them an advantage.

  Neither of them spoke, but Quinn could hear Rikki’s short spurts of breath as she dragged herself up to a crouching position.

  She jabbed his shoulder and pointed to the fence.

  A semicircle of light awaited them on their way to that fence, but Quinn didn’t want to give their pursuer a shot at them once he rounded the corner.

  He shook his head at Rikki and jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the stealthy rustle behind them. A seasoned cop would’ve called backup by now, but Quinn couldn’t be 100 percent sure that Belinda hadn’t called the police, and he didn’t want to risk tangling with a member of law enforcement—especially since he and Rikki had been caught red-handed breaking and entering.

  A body of water to his left caught a glimmer of light from the slice of moon as it emerged from a rolling cloud cover. Quinn tugged on Rikki’s pant leg and tipped his chin toward the pond. Even if they made a splash going into the water, the man with the gun wouldn’t be able to get a clear line of sight on them—not like he would once he came around that corner with his flashlight.

  Rikki didn’t need any encouragement from him. On her hands and knees, she crawled to the edge of the pond and slipped in headfirst.

  Quinn rolled in after her and kept his body flat. The pond had enough water to cover them, but only if they stretched out their bodies and kept low. Now all they needed was a couple of reeds to poke up above the surface of the water to breathe.

  He and Rikki floated and bobbed side by side, submerged in the murky water until they reached the far end of the pond.

  They’d have to head over the back fence and make a run for it if they hoped to get out of this situation. He squeezed Rikki’s arm.

  Again, she knew what had to be done.

  She breached the surface first, emerging from the water like some slinky, primordial creature, and he scrambled over the slippery edge behind her. The noise of their escape broke the silence of the night, and the light from the flashlight made a jerky survey above the pond.

  By the time the beam of light found Quinn, Rikki had launched herself over the fence. As Quinn grabbed the slats of wood to freedom, their assailant fired his first shot—from a silencer.

  The bullet cracked the fence inches from Quinn’s right hand. That was all the incentive he needed. He hoisted himself over and landed on the ground.

  Rikki grabbed the back of his shirt at the collar. “Run.”

  “No kidding.”

  They’d landed in someone else’s backyard, but Quinn couldn’t even see the house from their position. Belinda had bought herself a place on a large lot, alongside other homes on equally large lots. The size of these yards would save their necks.

  In a crouch, they ran for the fence to their left. The clouds cooperated with them and drifted across the slice of moon again.

  Rikki hit the fence with both hands. “I can’t get over this without a boost. Can you?”

  “Piece of cake, Buttercup.” He laced his fingers together, and Rikki wedged the sole of her tennis shoe against his palms. “Ready?”

  “Just hurry it up.”

  He launched her up, and she hoisted herself over.

  His height gave him an advantage, and he swung over the fence with ease.

  They made their way through a couple more lawns like that before hitting the street. Their shoes squishing with water, they kept to the shadows until they reached the park.

  Rikki was panting by the time she grabbed the door handle of his vehicle. “It’s a good thing we left the car down here.”

  “Yep, but I’m surprised Belinda Dawson didn’t provide a getaway car for us.”

  Quinn started the engine before he fully sat down or closed the door. He left the lights off as he crawled into the street, checking his rearview mirror.

  The cars on the streets of Savannah were few and far between until they emerged fr
om the quiet residential streets into a boulevard dotted with bars and nightspots.

  Quinn finally let out a pent-up breath, but still kept watch on his mirrors.

  Rikki slumped in her seat, pressing a hand over her heart and the wet T-shirt that stuck to her chest. “That was close. He was no cop, was he? Did you get a look at him?”

  “I didn’t see him at all, but you’re right. I don’t think Belinda called the cops on us.” Quinn sluiced his wet hair back from his forehead and combed out a piece of moss.

  “Then who did she call? Who was that? He had a silencer.” Rikki crossed her arms over her midsection. “It must’ve been CIA. She called the Agency to check on us and discovered nobody had been sent for David’s equipment.”

  “Maybe, but how did someone get here so quickly and why the subterfuge?” Quinn rubbed his palms, which the fence had abraded, against the steering wheel. “If she called the CIA, found out we were impostors and then reported us, why would she collude with the Agency to catch us in the act? The CIA would never use a spouse like that to lure impostors out of the woodwork. Especially a widow. Can you imagine the liability if the Agency did that and a spouse wound up dead?”

  “It could’ve been someone from the Agency but not sanctioned by the Agency. Is that what you mean? Someone already out here looking after Belinda. Someone who’s in on the joke and knows that David is alive and well and getting tattooed in Thailand, or wherever.” Rikki grabbed her ponytail and twisted it to wring out the pond water.

  “That’s what I’m thinking, someone with the Agency—or not, but nobody official.”

  Rikki tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s a scarier scenario than having an on-duty agent after us.”

  “Except—” Quinn wheeled into the parking lot of their motel and parked in front of their room “—if an agent had captured us, taken us down at gunpoint, the Agency would’ve wasted no time identifying you, unless you erased your fingerprints with acid, but I recall your fingertips being intact.”

  She wiggled her fingers in front of her. “The hair and the eyes are as far as I’ll go for a disguise. I’m going to agree with you and bet our shooter was either a rogue agent working with David or someone involved in this traitorous network of David’s jumping on any hint that someone believes he’s still alive.”

  Quinn cut the engine and lights but didn’t make a move to leave the car. “Which brings us back to Belinda.”

  “It sure seemed like she trusted us while we were there. What do you think set off her alarm bells?”

  “Maybe the interest in the photo. She realized after we left that the picture was of David post-death and started to get worried.”

  Rikki leveled a finger at him, seemingly in no hurry to get out of the car and her wet clothing. “Or she called the number on your fake card.”

  He tapped the burner phone in his cup holder. “Except I didn’t get any calls on this phone.”

  “Either I showed too much interest in that picture or she had orders from David to be wary of any outreach from the Agency. She called the CIA to check out our story.”

  “Our story didn’t pass the test. She brushed it off with the Agency and then made a call to her henchman.”

  “And set us up.” Rikki rubbed her chin. “How did she know we’d be back?”

  “She didn’t know for sure, or Dawson is so paranoid he orchestrated the setup just to be on the safe side.”

  “Do you think she called David after we left?”

  “Makes sense, doesn’t it? Isn’t that something David would do? Disable the alarm system, leave off the lights on one side of the house, disengage one set of locks on the door and have Belinda call in backup when we showed up. Hell—” he yanked the door handle “—she might’ve had a camera watching our every move down there.”

  Back in the room, Rikki peeled off her wet T-shirt and shimmied out of the jeans sticking to her thighs. “Ugh, that pond water was disgusting. I hope you didn’t swallow any of it.”

  “My lips were sealed. I’m just glad we left our phones in the car. I would’ve had a lot of explaining to do to get my encrypted phone replaced.”

  Rikki kicked her wet clothes into a corner. “We need to get David’s emails to Chan and decoded. I want to know what he was up to and what he was doing in South Korea.”

  “Other than setting up his own death and your entrapment? I’d say Dawson was a busy boy—and I already sent the emails to Chan.”

  “Why South Korea? There must’ve been a reason for him to pick that area instead of staging all this in Dubai, for example.”

  “That’s a mystery those messages might solve.” Quinn pulled his own damp T-shirt over his head and tossed it into Rikki’s wet pile of clothes. “Right now I want to get this pond scum off my body. Do you want to help me?”

  “I’d like nothing more than to rub pond scum from your body.”

  Quinn sprinted past Rikki to the bathroom before she could change her mind. He ran a warm bath and dumped some body wash in the water to create bubbles. Then he stripped off the rest of his clothes and sank into the tub, as much as his six-foot-three frame could sink.

  “That was fast—bubbles and everything.” Rikki hung on the door frame in her underwear.

  “Technically it’s body wash, but it worked.” He scooped up a handful of bubbles and blew on them.

  “I knew navy SEALs were resourceful. I just didn’t realize in how many ways.” She stepped out of her panties and unhooked her bra.

  Quinn opened his legs, patting the water between them. “I have a place for you right here.”

  Rikki dipped a toe in the water before stepping in and lowering herself into the tub. Leaning back against his chest, she said, “Don’t get any ideas in here, McBride. We might both end up drowning.”

  “Ideas?” He cupped her breasts from behind and nuzzled her neck. “What ideas do you think I might have?”

  She put one arm behind her, winding it around his neck. “The kinds of ideas you have every time we’re within two feet of each other.”

  “Can I help it if I find you irresistible?”

  And then he used all his resourcefulness to show her.

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Quinn got back to business. While Rikki looked through her old emails from David, Quinn contacted Donovan Chan again. If Chan wondered why Quinn was asking about a dead agent, he kept his questions to himself.

  Rikki looked up from Quinn’s laptop. “I don’t see anything suspicious in David’s communications, nothing to suggest that our mission to Korea was anything other than what he claimed—a lead on Vlad.”

  “Did he ever disclose how he got this intel?” Quinn tossed his phone on the cushion beside him.

  Rikki wedged the tip of her finger between her teeth. “Not in the emails, but he mentioned a name when we were in Dubai, and it was the same guy we met in South Korea—Buddy Song.”

  “Was this Song in intelligence in South Korea? Why wouldn’t Song go straight to the CIA or to Ariel and the Vlad task force?”

  “I don’t know.” Rikki shrugged. “I didn’t ask him. David had his contacts outside of our partnership, relationships he’d cultivated over the years before I even became an agent and started working with him.”

  “Do you know how to contact Song? Did anyone ever reach out to him after David’s supposed murder and your capture?”

  “My supposed murder, too.” She raised her eyebrows. “You know that better than anyone.”

  Quinn clasped the back of his neck and squeezed. “Do you have to keep reminding me?”

  “Like I said before, if it hadn’t been you I’d be dead.” She tipped the computer from her lap onto the bed and crossed her legs. “Ariel didn’t tell me what kind of investigation was done into David’s murder, but I doubt anyone knows about Song. David didn’t even put his n
ame in an email to me. We only ever spoke about him.”

  “I think Song is a good place to start. What do you remember about him? Where did you meet?”

  “We met in Seoul, at a park. He spoke English very well. He helped us cross the border, and I got the feeling it wasn’t his first rodeo.”

  “He was probably someone who facilitated border crossings between North and South Korea. Maybe that was his insight into Vlad. He probably helped him cross the border, too.”

  “Could be. Song got us to a tunnel between the two countries and said goodbye there. The rest is history. David and I crossed over and hadn’t traveled five miles before I was taken and David killed—or so I thought.”

  “But now we know Song didn’t set up David. David manipulated the entire scenario, with or without Song’s knowledge.”

  “And definitely without mine.”

  Rikki rubbed her nose, and Quinn knew David’s betrayal of her stung. He couldn’t imagine any of his sniper teammates turning on him like that. For a while, the navy had tried to tell them Miguel Estrada had been working with the enemy, but he and the rest of the guys hadn’t believed that for one second.

  But Rikki had proof.

  Quinn stood up and stretched his arms, almost brushing his fingertips on the ceiling. “Do you think Ariel can track down Song? Would she? She’s deep undercover enough that nobody’s following her movements.”

  “I can ask her. I never thought about him before, but that’s when I believed our mission to Korea was something straightforward, or at least as straightforward as our missions ever were. Now that I know David pulled a scam on me—” she flicked her fingers in the air “—everything and everyone is fair game.”

  Quinn peered through the curtains on the window. “We can do all this on computers and on my trusty phone. We don’t need to stay in Savannah.”

  “When do you have to report back for duty?”

  “Three weeks.” A sudden fear gripped Quinn’s heart. “If we can’t clear you before then, you need to go back to Jamaica where you’ll be safe.”

  Rikki’s lashes dropped over her eyes. “Maybe. I vowed I wouldn’t return there until my name was cleared.”