Mac frowned and called after the retreating receptionist. “Wait, did she say what it’s about?”
“Oh!” Renee gasped. “Sorry, she said to tell you that Noah said to call.”
To say Mac felt sucker-punched was an understatement. Noah said to call. Those were the only words Mac heard before he made his way to his desk and dialed the number with shaking fingers.
“Hello?” A sultry female voice answered.
“Betty Mae Lincoln?” Mac asked.
“Who’s calling?” the woman demanded, suddenly suspicious.
“US Marshal Robert McKenzie. Mrs. Lincoln called me.”
“Mac McKenzie?” The woman’s voice had changed, becoming warmer, friendlier.
“Do I know you?” Mac frowned, dropping into his chair.
“No, but I know you.” The woman laughed. “Hold on, here’s Betty Mae.” Before Mac could ask the woman how she knew him, an older woman’s voice came on the phone.
The woman introduced herself as Betty and launched into a story of how Noah had saved her from the bad guys, and that the sweet girl, Allison, was her new roommate, and that Mac might want to send someone out to her house to pick up the bad guys that Noah left there. Oh, and could Mac pick up her knitting basket by the front door and drop it by?
“Okay, slow down, Mrs. Lincoln,” Mac said, jotting everything down. “When was the last time you saw Noah?”
“Well, just last night, dear,” the woman said sweetly. “And please call me Betty.”
Mac
“Come in, Marshals.” A woman with silky black hair that fell to her waist and was wearing a tight pink sweater with tight black pants had opened the door.
“US Marshal McKenzie and this is US Marshal Coleman,” Mac said, following the woman into a large, furnished apartment located in a quiet Santa Barbara neighborhood.
“I know who you are,” the woman said with a smirk.
“You have us at a disadvantage then,” Jake replied.
The beauty lifted one perfectly manicured eyebrow at Jake, and Mac saw the agent’s neck fill with red. The woman laughed and turned, and that was when Mac noticed the gun tucked into the waistband of her pants.
“Gun,” Mac called out, pulling his gun. “Turn back around and identify yourself.”
Jake jerked and also pulled his gun, watching his back.
The woman lifted her hands and did a slow and frankly sexy turn.
She smiled. “If I wanted you dead, Marshal McKenzie, you’d already be dead.”
For some reason, he didn’t doubt her. “Who are you?”
“I’m Allison Dupont. I work with Noah,” she said, leaning a hip against the counter. “I normally wouldn’t tell you that, but Noah vouched for you, so.” The woman shrugged one elegant shoulder.
“And what exactly is it that you do?” Jake demanded.
Allison narrowed her eyes at the man. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Well, needless to say, Allison Dupont, I need two things,” Mac said, putting his gun away, as did Jake. “Betty Mae Lincoln and Noah Bradford.”
“Good luck catching Noah,” Allison said with a smug smile.
“Ally dear, why don’t you get these nice gentlemen some tea,” a soft voice said from the hallway, and Mac turned to find an elderly woman wearing a loose blouse with an equally loose skirt that reached her ankles, and around her shoulders hung a brightly colored scarf that matched her slipper type shoes. Her hair was short, curly, and brown threaded with gray. Her face was lined with age, and her eyes were bright green, almost the color of her scarf, and her smile reached her eyes.
Allison smirked at Mac and Jake, then turned and moved gracefully towards the kitchen. “All we have is coffee.”
“I’m Betty Mae.” The older woman smiled at Mac.
“Hello, Betty Mae, I’m US Marshal McKenzie.” Mac returned Betty’s contagious smile.
Jake followed Allison to the kitchen, and Mac heard his partner ask the woman for creamer.
Betty Mae reached for Mac and took one of his hands into both of her smaller frail ones. She held his hand gently, and her searching gaze made him feel twitchy, as if he were being measured.
“I can see why he likes you,” she stated, dropping his hand before heading over to a small, comfortable chair.
Likes me? Wait… what, who likes me? Was she talking about Noah? Mac trailed after her, feeling like he was in first grade all over again. “Who?”
Betty Mae didn’t answer. She smiled and sank into the chair and lifted the knitting basket that Mac had left by the door. “Thank you for getting this for me, dear. I need to finish this by Christmas.”
Mac nodded, wanting to grill her about who she had been talking about. It had to be Noah, right? Mac badly wanted to know if Noah missed him and more importantly, if Noah was okay.
“You’re welcome,” Mac said instead. “Betty, we want to place you in protective custody.”
“Like hell,” Allison roared, coming from the kitchen with Jake trailing behind her. The woman was all kinds of angry when she jammed two coffee mugs down abruptly on the common area bar. Liquid sloshed over the rims, and Jake grabbed a few napkins. Placing her hands on her hips, Allison glared at Mac.
“Excuse me, but this is Marshal business. Betty needs to be in protective custody,” Jake said, turning from mopping up the mess.
“Is that right!” Allison laughed, but it wasn’t with amusement. “And just how the hell are you going to keep her safe when you couldn’t keep Clair safe?” Allison accused, her angry gaze on Mac.
“How do you know about Clair?” Mac held Allison’s gaze.
“Noah and I don’t have secrets,” Allison said, and there was that damned smug smile again. “Which is not really the point, is it? The point is, you have a leak in your office.”
The words fucking stung. She knew Noah, had known him for the past five years. Mac felt hollow, as if he’d missed Noah in a way he hadn’t considered. This woman knew Noah in ways that Mac didn’t. The crappy part was Mac couldn’t change a damned thing until he found Noah. And as much as Mac wanted to dislike Allison for being in Noah’s life, he couldn’t.
Mac actually respected her for having the grit to stand up to him, not many people did. He also couldn’t argue since she was right. They couldn’t keep anyone safe who was related to this case if they had a leak. Fuck.
“How do you know we have a leak?” Mac asked.
“I have my ways,” was all Allison said. “But don’t worry, Marshals. Noah is on the trail of your leak, and I’m sure he’ll get to the bottom of whatever is going on.”
“Wait a damn minute,” Jake charged.
“Jake.” Mac shook his head at his partner. “She is right. Think about it. We can’t keep Betty safe with a leak.” Mac also wanted to know just how Noah thought he was going to find a leak in the US Marshals office. Then Mac realized he needed to find Noah to get the answer because Allison Dupont wasn’t going to tell him a damned thing.
Jake’s gaze locked on his, and then his partner sighed. “This sucks,” Jake muttered.
“As it is, I’ll need to move Betty once you two are gone.” Allison walked to the window and glanced out the small opening between the heavy curtains.
“You think somebody followed us here?” Jake looked over her shoulder, and she scowled at him.
“It’s a possibility,” Allison pointed out, snapping the curtain closed.
Mac nodded. She was right again. “Okay, Betty Mae, I just have a few questions and then we’ll be leaving.” When the older woman nodded, Mac smiled reassuringly. He went over everything from the time of her granddaughter’s murder to the night Noah showed up at her house.
Once all the details were noted, Mac stood and wrote his cell number. “Here’s my cell.” He extended the paper toward Allison.
Allison shook her head at him. “I know it by heart. No paper trails.”
Mac dropped his hand. “Okay, can you somehow let me know she’s safe?”<
br />
Allison looked at him for so long, Mac thought she wasn’t going to answer, then she smirked. “Yeah, I’ll send you a text.”
“I thought you were French?” Jake frowned at Allison. The woman’s accent when they first arrived had disappeared.
“I can be whatever I need to be,” Allison mockingly pointed out, and Jake flushed again. Leaving Betty Mae in Allison’s capable hands, Mac and Jake left the apartment.
“She’s something else, huh?” Jake said, gazing out the window.
Mac glanced over at his partner. Assuming Jake was talking about Allison, Mac snorted. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t advise dating her.”
“Yeah, not my type. But she is something,” Jake muttered, and Mac chuckled.
Noah
The feeling of being watched crept up his spine and settled there. It was a feeling that grew in intensity, and one he knew would never fully go away unless dealt with. Because he always trusted his instincts, he kept to the shadows and headed away from his parked jeep.
Losing his tail became easier in the growing dusk where he could melt into the darkness. Scaling fences and avoiding houses with lights, he stuck to alleys and walkways until he reached a warehouse district.
There was an agency house nearby; he’d used it many times. Waiting at the end of the metal building, he pointed his gun with its suppressor attached and shot out the street light. The light popped softly, followed by the tinkling of glass. From that point, he sank back into the deepest recess of the shadows and settled into complete and utter stillness. Slowing his breathing, he closed his eyes, knowing without a doubt he’d become invisible.
Barely audible steps grew closer. The tread light, as if the person were walking on a mattress instead of rock and glass-filled, chipped asphalt. The steps paused. Noah didn’t move, and keeping his breathing even, he waited.
When the figured moved into his line of sight, Noah exploded forward. Striking out with a sweep of his leg, he attempted to take the man down. The guy jumped over Noah’s leg, twisted in the air, and blocked the hand Noah jabbed at his throat. Noah’s gun went flying.
He jerked his knee upward only to find the move designed to hit the man’s groin blocked. Shoving apart, they sprang back, then moved in swiftly. Silently, they fought, equally matched, blow for blow, blocking kicks and jabs, testing each other until Noah placed the wall at his back.
Stiff-arming the man in the chest, they both paused, breathing heavily. Blue eyes stared down into his before a hand moved up and yanked Noah’s hood off. He turned his head quickly to avoid the crushing kiss. It landed on his cheek instead of his lips, and the man sighed. Teeth ran along his jaw before the guy pushed up and away, giving him space.
“You’re getting better,” Frost said, tipping his dark head.
“So are you,” Noah returned, picking up his gun. He turned, taking the steps up to the warehouse loft, and opened the door. Frost followed him inside and locked the door. Making his way into the apartment that covered the upper floor of the warehouse, Noah rummaged through the fridge for something cold to drink. He snagged two bottles of water and handed one to the man.
Frost settled a hand on Noah’s hip.
“Don’t.” Noah playfully shoved the guy back.
“Why not? We have before,” Frost grumbled, but the man respected his wishes and moved away, carrying his drink.
Asher Grayson, code name Frost, was drop-dead gorgeous, ruggedly handsome, and broodingly sexy. The man was also a brilliant Phoenix operative and deadly to boot. Of course, Frost could be a prick sometimes, but the man had integrity. Frost was someone he’d want in his corner if shit were going down.
Yes, they had hooked up once when Noah had first joined the agency. Afterwards, they’d agreed that once was it and had become friends. Not that Noah saw Frost all that much through the years. Like him, Frost preferred staying in the field and only came in on occasion.
“My ass is off limits.” Noah pointed his bottle at Frost.
“But it’s such a nice ass.”
Noah snorted. “Fucking flirt.”
“That’s me,” the man agreed, and then frowned.
“Why are you really here?” Noah asked the gruff and suddenly pensive man. Plopping down on the wide sectional, Noah put his feet up on the ottoman.
“The State Department called our boss. The chief wants to know why the US Marshals and FBI are asking about one of his operatives.”
Noah rested his head back against the couch and smiled up at the ceiling. “And they sent you to check up on little old me.” He could just bet the chief was shitting bricks.
“Mmhmm.” Frost dropped into the recliner across from Noah. “You’re causing a goddamned ruckus.”
“You can tell the chief I’ll come in when I’m done.”
Frost narrowed his eyes, but Noah didn’t look away. Frost knew him, knew he wasn’t going to budge.
“Did Ally tell you where I was?” Noah changed the subject.
“Yes, after she threw a glass at my head. She showed me the copy of the list you gave her for safe keeping.”
“Poor Ally.” Noah laughed when Frost scowled.
Allison and Frost had an argument a while back. Allison didn’t take too kindly to Frost’s behavior. Especially when it had to do with a friend.
Frost frowned and rubbed at the side of his head. “I think she’s thawing.”
“Don’t mess with people’s feelings, Frost. News flash, they don’t like it.” Noah finished his drink.
“I wasn’t!” Frost snapped.
Noah rolled his eyes. “Dude, you flirt with or fuck anything with two legs.”
“No, I don’t,” the operative said gruffly, all snarly and sexy.
“Okay…”
“It wasn’t any of Allison’s business.”
“Oh, I know that,” Noah replied. Allison had butted in when she shouldn’t have, but she was only protecting a friend.
“It didn’t go down the way I thought it would,” Frost murmured, studying his bottle of water.
Noah rolled his head to the side. Frost’s jaw ticked, and Noah suddenly felt for the man. “Try talking to her. Tell her that. And bury the damned hatchet.”
Instead of arguing, Frost only nodded.
“Are you staying around for a while?”
“I have something to take care of,” Frost said evasively.
The man had completely peeled the label from his water bottle before Noah realized Frost wasn’t going to elaborate.
“I’m sleeping here tonight.” Noah yawned. “You can give me a ride to my jeep tomorrow.”
The man grunted. “You’ll have to take an Uber. I don’t have a vehicle.”
“Great.” Noah rubbed at the tension starting in his neck.
The only reminder of Frost the next morning was a rumpled bed in one of the rooms and a semi-fresh, half pot of coffee.
Mac
“Marshal?” A voice jerked Mac’s head around. Gina Waters, the admin support person he’d assigned to check Clair’s files, approached. Gina was one of the most discreet and professional administrative assistants Mac knew, and that was why he had entrusted her with the research. The woman was dressed in a fitted skirt and matching jacket, with her brown hair pulled back into a no-nonsense bun. She wore dark-rimmed glasses perched on a dainty nose.
“Tell me you found something?” Mac pleaded, hope springing up.
“I found something.” Gina walked over and directed Mac to pull up Clair’s reports on the computer. Jake rolled his chair closer to look at the screen over Mac’s shoulder. “Every month since February 2012 has the same identical data, including her last check-in. She went from writing a book each month to one liners.”
Mac sat stunned. Clair had been hiding Noah’s whereabouts from the Marshals office. Jake looked just as surprised as Mac.
“Gina, can you give me a list of people who accessed these records?”
“Not so easy, guys, you need to get the captain’s permission
for that.” Gina shoved her thumb over her shoulder. “The big man’s name has locked that part of the file.” She pointed to Captain Buller’s empty office. At the moment, Buller happened to be upstairs in a meeting. “Or, I could go through access request, but it might take a week.”
“No, that’s okay, Gina, we’ll ask the captain. Thanks.” Mac smiled. They didn’t have weeks. “You did a great job.”
“No problem, guys.” Gina lifted from her position leaning against the desk and gave them a wave before heading out of the bullpen.
“Okay, so that was unexpected,” Jake said, blowing out a breath.
Mac quirked a brow. “That Clair was in on keeping quiet about Noah leaving?”
“Yeah, and -”
The phone rang on the desk, interrupting Jake’s response, and the man answered it. “Yeah, hold on, Kane.” Jake pointed to Mac’s phone, and Mac picked up the handset. “Okay, Mac’s on the line, go ahead.”
“Okay, with a name like Ghost, it wasn’t easy, but I called every contact I have in most of the agencies,” Kane said. “It wasn’t pretty because I received several ‘none of my fucking business,’ and a handful of ‘no comment.’ That is until I reached someone who knows a guy named Frost.”
“Frost?” Jake asked, confused.
“Yeah,” Kane replied. “Anyway, my contact said that Frost said, and I quote, ‘The man you’re looking for is a fucking ghost, best thing you can do is forget you ever heard of the name.’”
“Why?” Mac clenched a fist around the pen he held.
“I don’t know,” Kane said. “My contact said that Frost hung up on him after that.”
“Damn it,” Mac grumbled.
“There’s something else.” Kane sighed over the phone, and Mac’s heart double-skipped.
“Just tell me,” he growled when Kane hesitated.
“Word has it that Noah disappeared from WITSEC a while ago.”
“Yeah, we just found that out. Research shows him gone for over five years.” Mac filled Kane in on what Gina had discovered.
Ricochet (Out for Justice Book 1) Page 14