Watch Your Back

by Rose, Karen

  Emma went to the mirror and scowled. She’d repeatedly washed her hair, trying to get rid of the brown spray dye they’d used. After several shampoos, she’d dozed off with her hair wet. Now the color of dirty dishwater, it stood in spikes all over her head.

  ‘This is your fault, Paige,’ she called around the open door, then winced, hoping she hadn’t woken Cordelia. The child had fought sleep for a long time, begging to stay up until her aunt Izzy and grandparents had been driven home by Grayson Smith, who’d continue to watch over them through the night.

  Emma wet her hair down and attempted to finger-comb the spikes into submission before returning to the kitchen. ‘Just remember,’ she whispered with a glare, ‘that payback’s a bitch.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so scared,’ Paige deadpanned, but still she grinned.

  Emma patted her head. ‘What?’

  ‘Not you,’ Daphne said, her own smile a mile wide. She held up her cell phone. ‘News.’

  ‘What news?’ Emma asked suspiciously. ‘We caught the shooters?’

  Daphne’s smile dimmed. ‘Not yet.’ She lifted her brows. ‘But Operation CAS is a success.’

  ‘CAS?’ Emma asked, confused. Then she understood and her own grin broke free. ‘Clay-And-Stevie.’ She clapped her hands. ‘Who won the pool?’

  ‘Three-way tie between me, Ethan, and Holly,’ Paige said.

  Maggie frowned. ‘I thought it would be earlier, dammit.’

  Emma sighed happily. ‘This is really good. And about time, too.’

  ‘I feel sorry for Clay,’ Alec said, shaking his head. ‘I mean, I’m glad he and Stevie are finally together but I never want to have my love life watched like that.’

  Ethan tousled the young man’s hair with paternal affection. ‘You’re just mad you didn’t win the pool.’

  Alec’s scowl was purely for show. ‘It’s true.’

  ‘One of these days, you’ll—’ Ethan’s phone rang and they grew quiet, waiting expectantly. ‘Buchanan.’ His brows rose abruptly. ‘No, we didn’t . . . That sounds like a plan.’ He hung up. ‘That was one of the FBI agents assigned to watch the entrance from the main road. Someone ordered pizza delivery to this address. The Feds let him pass without stopping him, but they’re following him to the gate.’ He slid his phone into his pocket. ‘They want us to stay put.’

  Emma looked at the ceiling. Cordelia’s safety was why they were all there. ‘We’re going to sit here on our hands and let a killer corner us? I’m not okay with that, Ethan.’

  ‘I said it was “a plan”. Alec, Maggie, grab your weapons like we practiced, suit up, and come with me. Daphne, stay here. You might not pick off a gunman, but you can spray anyone coming through the front door with bullets. Just keep the sight lined up like I showed you.’

  Daphne nodded. ‘I will,’ she said as Ethan, Alec, and Maggie buckled into their vests. ‘Paige, where are you, mobility-wise?’ Ethan asked.

  ‘Can’t run yet, but I can still shoot. I’ll go up to Cordelia’s room. Anybody who wants to get to her, goes through me first.’

  Emma already had a rifle in her hands and a pistol in her belt. ‘And me.’ But she was thinking of her own family as well. Please, God, don’t let it come down to that.

  Monday, March 17, 11.05 P.M.

  Paige had set Alec’s laptop on the dresser in the room where Cordelia was sleeping so that they could watch the front gate via the camera feed. Paige sat at the foot of the bed and Emma sat on the floor, her back up against it. Her gun was pointed at the door, the safety off, her trigger finger ready to shoot any nasties who were foolish enough to try to get in the room.

  Not that Emma thought it would come to that. Joseph’s people were already close by and Ethan wasn’t letting anyone come through the gate. Still her heart pounded in her chest.

  ‘They’re coming for me, aren’t they?’ Cordelia whispered, making Emma jump.

  She turned to find the child’s eyes wide open. ‘You’re supposed to be asleep.’

  ‘I woke up when you went downstairs and I listened outside the kitchen. When Mr Ethan started giving out guns, I ran back up. I didn’t want to get into trouble.’

  ‘Then why did you even tell me?’ Emma said, amused despite the tension of the moment.

  ‘Because I have questions.’

  ‘What questions?’ Emma asked.

  ‘Well, first, are they coming for me?’ she asked calmly, but her lip quivered.

  ‘No,’ Emma said firmly. ‘They might try, but they’re not getting you. Next question?’

  ‘What did it mean when Miss Daphne said that CAS was a success? You said it meant “Clay and Stevie”. What happened to my mom?’

  Emma coughed. ‘Well. First off, your mom is fine and probably happier than she’s been in a very long time because you’re safe – and you are safe. But she’s also happy because . . . well, hmm. Mr Clay has liked your mother for a long time.’

  ‘I know. But Mama hasn’t liked him back. Aunt Izzy says my mama is insane because Mr Maynard is yummy.’

  Emma laughed. ‘She said that to you?’

  ‘No. She said it to Miss Daphne last week when I came for my riding lesson. I listened.’

  Paige tapped Cordelia’s nose. ‘We need to put you under the “cone of silence” so we grown-ups can talk without being spied on. All you need to know is that Mr Clay and your mom are happy together tonight. We’ll have to see what happens when all of this craziness is over.’

  ‘My friend’s mom’s boyfriend moved in with them. Will Mr Maynard move in with us?’

  ‘Probably not right away,’ Emma said. ‘Your mama is careful, especially with you. Now I want you to at least close your eyes and pretend to sleep.’

  ‘What are you watching on the computer?’

  ‘This is not your business,’ Paige said, her tone changing to one that demanded obedience. ‘Go to sleep, Cordelia. That’s not a request.’

  ‘Yes, Sensei Holden.’ Immediately Cordelia’s eyes closed and Emma was impressed.

  ‘That’s my girl’, Paige smoothed a hand down Cordelia’s back, then turned the laptop screen so that Cordelia couldn’t see it. Together they watched as Maggie came into view, looking like Barbara Walters channeling Rambo.

  Alec and Ethan were nowhere to be seen.

  A young man in the uniform of a pizza service alternated pacing and staring up into the camera, having rung the bell at the gate several times. Now he stared at Maggie, horrified.

  Maggie was pointing back at the road and the pizza guy took a step backward, then another.

  ‘He doesn’t look like an assassin,’ Emma whispered.

  ‘No, he doesn’t, does he? But Bundy didn’t look like a serial killer either.’

  Paige had a point, Emma thought, then blinked. Ethan had come out of nowhere and was now on the outside of the fence, creeping up behind the pizza guy. Ethan grabbed the boy’s hands, pulling them behind his back. And unless the kid was the best actor around, he’d just been scared nearly to death. Had there been audio, Emma was certain they’d have heard a piercing scream.

  ‘How did Ethan get out of the fence?’ Emma asked, stunned.

  ‘Bolt hole. A portion of fence that’s separately controlled. He could turn off the voltage just there and climb over.’

  ‘What about the barbed wire?’

  ‘He knows how to avoid it. At least I hope so if he and his wife want more kids someday.’

  Another car pulled up to the gate, parking diagonally behind the pizza delivery car, blocking his escape. Two men in suits got out, weapons drawn as they approached the gate.

  In the same moment, Ethan tensed on the screen and Paige tensed beside Emma.

  ‘What the hell?’ Paige checked her cell. ‘One of the motion detectors just got tripped.’

 
‘The alarms go to your phone?’ Emma asked.

  ‘Yeah, along with the location. This one is on camera six.’ Paige typed furiously, splitting the screen so that both the camera at the gate and one that pointed into the woods were shown. A figure dressed in black was partially visible, keeping behind the trees, advancing toward the gate.

  ‘We need to tell Ethan,’ Emma hissed.

  ‘He knows. The alarm went to his phone, too. He’s telling the Feds now.’

  Ethan was saying something to one of the agents when the man in the suit dropped like a rock. ‘Oh my God,’ Emma whispered. ‘What just—’

  But she didn’t get a chance to finish the question because seconds later the other agent followed. Ethan threw himself forward, taking the pizza delivery boy with him.

  In shock Emma watched blood pool on the driveway. It belonged to the Federal agents.

  It flowed from what was left of their heads.

  Emma was grateful there was no audio. She glanced over at Cordelia. The child’s eyes were open wide once more, her little face pale. But she hadn’t moved.

  ‘Cordelia, put on your helmet and your vest and get under the bed,’ Paige ordered. The child soundlessly, instantly obeyed.

  Paige dialed her cell phone, cursed. ‘Joseph’s goes right to voicemail. I’ll try Novak.’ This call went through and the conversation was brief. ‘Novak says they heard the whole thing. The agents were miked. Reinforcements are on the way.’

  ‘Paige, look.’ Emma pointed to the camera in the woods. Alec was coming up behind the intruder, his rifle aimed. He’d followed Ethan over the fence.

  The man in black was running toward the gate, toward Ethan and the pizza guy, when Alec fired, a bright flame bursting from the barrel of his rifle. The man did a half-spin mid-stride and slammed his back into a tree trunk, his weapon tumbling from his hands. He gripped his left arm with his right hand, then started to run again, this time toward the main road.

  ‘Alec got him!’ Emma cried.

  Paige typed again, adding the camera at the end of the driveway to the first two on her screen. ‘What the hell?’

  Emma frowned. It was a Jeep, not a Tahoe or a Sequoia or a red Chevy or a white Camry. ‘Either the guys who broke into Clay’s house ditched their vehicles or we have a new shooter.’

  Ethan had jumped to his feet and gun drawn, took off after the shooter, firing as he ran. But the man in black jumped into the Jeep and raced away.

  Ethan stopped running, aimed at the Jeep, and took a final shot. The Jeep was out of camera range by this point, but by the disgusted set of Ethan’s shoulders, it was clear he’d missed.

  ‘Goddammit,’ Paige whispered. ‘He got away. Again.’

  Ethan turned back, running toward Alec, who was looking pretty disgusted himself.

  There were footsteps on the steps and Daphne appeared in the doorway. She was pale, her hands trembling. ‘I called Joseph. He’s put out a BOLO on the Jeep. Alec’s not hurt.’

  Emma stared at the delivery guy, still on the ground, now shaking wildly. ‘And him?’

  ‘He appears to be legit. His manager confirmed they got a call for delivery to this address. He’ll allow Joseph’s team access to his phone records. Backup’s on the way.’

  ‘Aunt Emma? What’s happening?’

  Emma jolted at Cordelia’s tearful voice from under the bed. She slid to her knees and opened her arms to Stevie’s little girl, helping her take off the helmet and vest. ‘You’re okay. I’m here and I’m not leaving you.’

  ‘I want my mom.’ Cordelia was shaking, crying. ‘I want my mama, please.’

  ‘I know. I think it’s best, though, if your mom stays where she is until we get this sorted out. We’re all safe where we are, your mom included. But I don’t know if it’s safe to move between places yet and if we call your mom, she’ll try to get to you.’

  A small breath shuddered out of the child. ‘Then don’t tell her I said I wanted her to come.’

  ‘We won’t tell her,’ Paige promised. ‘Not just yet.’

  ‘I’ll ask Joseph not to tell her yet, either,’ Daphne added. ‘We’ll keep both of you safe.’

  Baltimore, Maryland, Tuesday, March 18, 1.45 A.M.

  ‘Stevie,’ Clay whispered. ‘Wake up.’

  Stevie blinked her eyes open, but the room was dark except for the glow of a computer screen. This is the Peabody Hotel, she thought, orienting herself. The events of the past few hours flew through her mind. Clay and sex. Cuddling, sharing secrets, mourning their children. Tears. Lots of tears. She took stock of her body. Aches in unusual places.

  And I’m still naked. Whereas Clay was fully clothed. She sat up, tucking the sheet under her arms. ‘What?’ she whispered back.

  ‘Look.’ He pointed at the screen of the laptop on the nightstand. ‘Hotel security system.’

  A man had stepped out of the elevator, dressed in the tux-like uniform worn by room service personnel. His head stayed down so there was no view of his face.

  Stevie slipped out of bed and pulled on the sweatpants and T-shirt that Clay had draped over a chair while she slept. He arranged the pillows to make it look like a body slept in the bed, then took position next to the bedroom door.

  She shoved her feet into her shoes, flicked the safety off her gun, then joined Clay at the door. He’d taken the left side, so she took the right, setting her cane against the wall.

  ‘Which do you think? Drive-by, Mr Backpack, or Mr Cocksucker?’ she whispered.

  ‘Doesn’t matter. I have bones to pick with all three.’

  ‘The adjoining door?’

  ‘Closed, not locked. Joseph’s waiting for our signal.’

  ‘Which will be?’

  ‘Yelling his name,’ Clay whispered dryly, then pressed his finger to his lips.

  The front door opened almost inaudibly, then closed with a quiet snick. If the man was coming, he had a very light tread. Stevie could hear nothing. But then the bedroom door opened and he slipped in, gun raised.

  Clay moved, throwing the man on the floor in a movement so quick that Stevie almost missed it. The gun flew out of the man’s hand and slid across the carpet, out of his reach.

  Clay shoved his knee into the intruder’s back, holding his wrists together, but the man continued to kick, so Stevie dropped to her knees, digging her kneecaps into his calves. She shoved her gun into the intruder’s back with one hand and with the other grabbed her cane and whacked the bastard’s head with the curved end, hard. ‘Stop struggling.’

  But the man’s struggles increased, so Stevie hit his head again with her cane, harder this time. ‘Joseph! Now would be good!’

  ‘I’m here,’ Joseph said from two feet behind her. He’d been there watching, Stevie realized. Letting me get a few licks in. Crouching opposite Clay, Joseph cuffed the man’s wrists, giving them a far harder yank than necessary to test their security, then from his coat pocket he pulled a set of shackles and handed them to Stevie.

  Stevie applied the shackles with even less care. The man grunted in pain, which was far more satisfying than Stevie had expected. ‘Let’s see his face.’

  Clay rolled him over, and there was a second of total silence as she, Clay, and Joseph stared, shocked.

  ‘No fucking way,’ Stevie breathed. ‘He’s a she.’

  Their intruder was a woman in her mid to late thirties. She was slender but broad-shouldered. Built like a man. Her dark hair appeared to be a wig and her slouched walk had hidden the existence of her breasts from the camera.

  Stevie leaned in close. ‘Who the hell are you?’

  The woman made a show of pursing her lips tight.

  Joseph tossed Clay and Stevie latex gloves before pulling on his own. ‘Let’s have a look at your hardware.’ Joseph picked up the Sig the woman had been
carrying and frowned. ‘No serial number.’

  The woman rolled her eyes, saying nothing.

  ‘Joseph?’ Agent Novak entered the room. ‘Coppola’s still on watch in case any of her friends decide to join the party. Everybody okay?’

  ‘We’re fine,’ Stevie told Novak. ‘She’s not having the best day, though.’

  Novak blinked. ‘Who is she?’

  ‘So far she hasn’t introduced herself,’ Joseph said.

  ‘I’d like to know which killer she is,’ Stevie said coldly. ‘We can simplify things quickly. Drive-by has a bullet wound right here.’ She jabbed the end of her cane into the woman’s left shoulder, watching her flinch, agony rolling over her face.

  ‘Fucking bitch,’ the woman moaned between clenched teeth. ‘You fucking bitch.’

  ‘Nikita has a boo-boo,’ Stevie said even more coldly. ‘I am so sorry. I’m sometimes clumsy with my cane, especially around people who try to kill my child in my own front yard.’

  ‘And you,’ Clay added calmly, but his eyes snapped with fury. ‘She shot at you, too.’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Stevie pushed herself to her feet, allowing the cane to slip on the carpet, driving it into Drive-by’s shoulder again.

  The woman moaned. ‘I’ll sue you for police brutality.’

  Stevie laughed bitterly. ‘I’m not a cop anymore. I’m on disability. You broke into the hotel room of an ordinary citizen. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your ass.’

  ‘Stevie, we do want her conscious to talk,’ Joseph reminded her mildly. ‘Evidence bags, please, Agent Novak.’

  Novak produced them. ‘Ready when you are, boss.’

  Joseph dropped the woman’s Sig into the first bag, then recited her Miranda rights and removed her wig, revealing a short cap of blonde hair. ‘Nothing in the wig’s lining.’ He began patting down her pockets. ‘Silencer for the Sig. A switchblade. A set of car keys.’ They went into evidence bags. ‘And a syringe. Looks like she planned to drug someone.’

  ‘Why?’ Stevie asked. ‘She tried to kill us on Saturday. Why not just shoot us all now?’

  ‘She’ll tell us sooner or later,’ Clay said quietly. ‘She’s got booze on her breath. My bet is she had to take a drink to calm her nerves. Shaky hands are an occupational hazard for an assassin. Given time, she’ll sell her soul for a drink.’