by Dianna Love
“You’d better be.” She rubbed her nose and sniffled.
Walking away from Trish was getting more difficult–almost as much a test as seeing her lying on top of Gunter with blood covering her neck and chest. Josh’s heart knotted at recalling that image.
She was fiercely loyal.
The woman had no concern for her own safety.
Had fought an insane killer to protect him. She deserved a man who would do no less for her. And he would, if he could stay with her every minute, but that was the problem. He didn’t want to give up what he did.
Why had he thought he could make a life work with her? He couldn’t closet her away somewhere safe and bring her out every time he wanted to be with her. Trish was life itself. She needed room to grow and spread her wings.
Around someone with a normal life.
And his would never be normal.
But she was his right now. He reached for her and she dove into his arms. He held her heart-to-heart close and kissed her with something that felt more real than anything he’d ever experienced.
Was this love? He understood his parents’ love for each other but they shared everything. No secrets between them. Trish had asked Josh about his life and he’d cloaked the truths in camouflage, just as he’d always vowed to do. Had to do to protect his parents from his enemies.
Trish hadn’t said another word about love since she’d lain in his arms bleeding.
Shock had probably wiped the words from her mind.
But he had them tucked into a special corner of his heart where he could hear her say those three words over and over on the nights he’d miss her once he left.
That would be every night he’d spend without her.
He ended the kiss, slowly lowering her to the ground. “I still don’t like you flying so soon after having stitches.”
“I’ve dealt with much worse. I can fly in a few hours.”
Hearing that didn’t make it right or better. “Go inside and keep the doors locked. Zane has someone watching your house and Bunko said he was staying on the sofa tonight.” Or Josh wouldn’t be leaving.
She swallowed and pulled up that steel will of hers. “I’ll call you when I land in Chicago tomorrow.”
Josh had argued and argued about her leaving town, but she’d countered that she’d be covered up with security around the Senator. And she’d be home by the end of the day so the Senator would be able to film his segment for the television show tomorrow. Trish would be flying back with the Senator and his entourage, security and all.
Talking about it had taken a toll on her and Josh wanted her in bed and resting, so he’d given in. He’d contacted Detective Vickers who’d been surprised to learn Gunter had confessed to killing Big Charlie, but glad that Josh had heard the confession so they could close that case.
Josh hadn’t heard a word of it, but he believed Trish’s version. Olivia Lackey had flown home early from the convention, but Detective Vickers had sent men to the Miami airport to arrest her for lying as Gunter’s alibi.
Olivia would confirm Gunter’s admission. She was no match for being interrogated by Vickers.
Trish was free and clear, but he didn’t want her in Chicago when he couldn’t join her. “I wish you would stay home tomorrow.” Today. Monday was already here.
“Stop.” She got that stubborn look. “Bunko and Heidi will be with me all the way to security at the airport. Dixon’s people are meeting me when I arrive and I’ll be with him until I come back tomorrow night.”
Sounded safe enough, but she wasn’t seeing what Josh saw. She still had a bump from getting hit over the head and even if she wore a turtleneck to hide the neck bandage, she had another one covering the stitches under her chin. “I promised the doctor you’d take it easy.”
“I’m not even packing luggage. I’m carrying my shoulder bag and a book. I seriously doubt that Senator Dixon or his people will let me do anything beyond talk to him.” She gave him another smile meant to comfort him and joked, “Go do your top secret work, but you better not come back with a scratch.”
He should tell her the same thing. “Either I’ll be at the airport to pick you up or Zane will.”
“Oh, good Lord, he’s rubbing off on you. I. Am. Fine.”
She might say that but her eyes still held a vulnerability that grabbed him by the throat. He kissed her again, worse than a teenager not wanting to leave his first heartthrob.
Trish felt like a first. And she definitely made his heart throb, along with other parts of him.
Josh waited until she was in the house, locked up tight, then climbed back into his car. He pushed the speed limits, anxious to find out what the team had and maybe even get back to Trish tonight.
Dingo and Ryder were in the hotel suite-turned-headquarters when Josh walked in. “What have you got?”
Ryder stood from where he’d been hunched over next to Dingo who sat in front of the laptop. When he turned to Josh, his roadmap eyes bled exhaustion. He told Josh, “I was on watch at the container at oh-four-hundred this morning–”
“Late taking your shift,” Dingo groused.
“I explained that,” Ryder said, cutting his eyes at Dingo with a promise for pain if Dingo brought that up again.
Josh would be the first to admit to not giving the FNG a fair shake, but no one slacked off and ran late on a Slye team. “Then explain it to me,” he told Ryder who turned a black scowl on Josh.
“I was on time coming back from a meeting and had a flat with no spare. Someone stole it off my truck. Satisfied?”
“Did you call?”
“Couldn’t. No signal where I was in the Everglades. I got lucky with a trucker who stopped to help me out with his radio or I wouldn’t have gotten rolling as fast as I did.”
Dingo gave Josh a that’s-his-story shrug.
Josh lacked the patience or desire to be diplomatic. He took in Ryder’s bloodshot eyes again and asked, “Were alcohol and women involved?”
“Fuck. You.” Ryder folded his arms, looking insulted and unwilling to defend himself further.
“Fuck this. You’re Sabrina’s problem, not mine. What’d you find out at the container storage?”
Ryder bumped up his glare to blistering. “Rikker. Maybe. So while you were playing bodyguard, I was getting you a chance at the guy who I understand is at the top of the Slye Temp Most Wanted List.”
This was the problem with having a team that Josh hadn’t hand selected. He ended up with Prick of the Month. “Go on.”
“I was using IFR binoculars and picked up body heat moving across the top of the containers. When the intruder got to the High Vision box, he disappeared inside then came back out with what looked like a couple of small boxes. Maybe three.”
Josh swung to Dingo. “Thought we had someone inspect that container.”
Dingo kept his eyes locked on the computer that had a mix of security screens on the monitor. “We did. Everything checked out as equipment for a lab.”
“You want to hear this now or plan a lunch date?” Ryder asked.
Drawing a slow breath that Josh needed to hold his temper, he told Ryder, “Continue.”
“There was no way to ID the intruder at that distance and in the dark, but he fit the build of Rikker and he’s clearly trained. He put the boxes in what must have been a watertight bag, because I kept him in sight through the enclosed area until he reached his exit point at the end of a dock. The water.”
“You lost him?”
“Do you have the ability to shift into Aquaman, or x-ray vision for someone underwater?” Ryder rubbed his eyes and blinked. “Nick was in the air, circling the zone on standby with a helo. He covered that area back and forth but never saw the guy surface. Still out there.”
“Fuck!” Josh kicked a chair into the dining room table.
Still scanning the security feeds, Dingo lifted his index finger and launched into his TV announcer voice. “But wait, there’s more. For just nine-ninety-nine you get a deluxe op that comes with
a surprise gift.”
Where was a good belt of scotch when Josh needed one? “What?”
Ryder’s eyebrows rode high on his forehead. “You’re testy for the only one getting any action on this job.”
Sabrina would not have to deal with Ryder after all. Josh would take care of the FNG and dispose of the body. “You haven’t seen testy. Drag this out another second and you’ll find out that I passed testy hours ago.”
Blowing out a gruff blast of air, Ryder rubbed his eyes again then pointed at a gray metal briefcase lying on the sofa. “That was inside the locked cab of my truck when I walked back, after Water Man disappeared. My truck has a custom security system that changes every time I lock it. Takes more than a common criminal to gain access.”
Dingo muttered, “Maybe that’s who got your spare tire.”
Ryder sent him a death glare then shook his head and continued the briefing as Josh walked over to the sofa. “All we did was open it. Haven’t touched a thing inside.”
Josh popped the catch and opened the case.
Inside was a small electronic tablet with a note on top that read: Engage the program. Track the boxes. Stop the test.
Two boots stepped into Josh’s view. Ryder said, “That’s convenient.”
The last convenient tip had ended in the capture of Colbert and Salazar, both of whom were later murdered.
This convenient tip smelled like a trap, but it was their only lead for Rikker. If that’s what this really was.
Chapter 44
“Everything is on schedule for today.” The Chessmaster studied the Monday morning traffic moving through downtown Miami eight stories below, and spoke into a new sat phone. Change was important when dealing with jackals. “Your man must be ready no later than sixteen hundred hours.”
The General stated, “He will be. He needs twenty minutes to construct the unit and have it ready to activate. Sure your timeline is firm?”
“Yes. Even if it changes, we’ll still have several hours notice.”
“High Vision wants to resume shipping next week,” The General ordered in his get-it-done voice.
“Not a problem.”
The General had the misguided notion that he was in control of the Miami project. Once the unit was successfully tested, the Chessmaster would step from the minor leagues into major league power. All The General wanted was to appease an associate with a new weapon.
The Chessmaster had far greater aspirations. Knocking The General off his arrogant pedestal would be a personal pleasure, but he had to be kept content in the meantime.
“Solve the problems in Miami tonight,” The General reiterated with more force.
“I’ve told you it will be. You’re the one who cautioned me against doing anything drastic in the beginning or this would have been handled sooner. My way.”
Not true. The Chessmaster had enjoyed putting Trish Jackson through torture for drawing Zane’s attention to Colbert when she’d schmoozed Colbert at the holiday party. Then Colbert went sniffing after Zane’s sister. Idiot. If he hadn’t started thinking with his dick he’d still be alive and running interference for the Chessmaster.
The General was getting nothing until the weapon his man was constructing functioned successfully.
“What is your way?”
“I’m loading evidence into the task force computers that will have to be found by specialists so that it doesn’t appear planted. But they’ll go looking as soon as they receive a tip after tonight’s disaster. If your unit does its job, I’ll do mine, then Zane Jackson and his two friends in the DEA will land in adjoining prison cells.”
“What about his sister?”
“She’ll be onboard for the test.” Literally.
As soon as Trish was out of the way, Zane would be arrested for his role in her death, based on ghost information a forensic computer tech would discover. That would lead the tech to investigate everyone Zane was close to, starting with Ben and Vance, who would be fingered for their roles in killing a US Senator.
Josh Robertson might disappear before he got his due. A hardened agent would, but he’d followed the Jackson bitch to Atlanta. From all signs, Robertson had made the unforgivable mistake for anyone in his line of work. He’d gotten personally involved.
The Chessmaster hoped that was case, and that Robertson showed up during the test. Neutralizing him in the ensuing chaos would be a breeze.
The General only wished he could strategize at the Chessmaster’s level. This time tomorrow, High Vision would have what they wanted. The General would have what he wanted.
And the Chessmaster would show the Orion Hunters exactly who held the power in this country.
Chapter 45
I can’t take another minute of this.
If Trish had to smile at one more person her face muscles were going to lock up until she looked like Batman’s Joker.
Not that she wasn’t thrilled to be alive after last night, or that she didn’t appreciate the attention from Senator Dixon’s staff, but her face hurt. She blamed it on being tired.
Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.
Yeah, especially that last one.
Close-up, full-color views of death had taken their toll. She’d been repeating her AA mantras constantly. One day at a time. Easy does it. Breathe.
Big Charlie was dead. Gunter was dead.
She could’ve been dead, and would’ve if it hadn’t been for Josh. Which was why she shouldn’t be complaining about her good fortune now even if she had been showing her pearly whites for eight hours straight since arriving at ten this morning.
Smiling was a small price to pay, really, after Senator Dixon had flown her up first class and she’d been given the royal treatment when she landed. She’d had no idea what a hectic pace a senator maintained and felt a little guilty for asking him to do the Treasured Past television show, but not guilty enough to cancel.
Dixon’s campaign manager had clarified that there was no way Dixon could have made this commitment if a trip to France hadn’t been canceled at the last minute..
That had freed up two days.
“Would you like some coffee, Miss Jackson?” Lawrence asked, dropping back from the cluster surrounding Dixon as he made long strides toward their gate.
Trish smiled at the senator’s personal assistant who was joining her, Dixon and three more of his staff on this flight.
“No thanks.” She eyed the Starbucks with lust as they passed the airport stand, but Lawrence would have to slow the whole entourage down to get coffee for her when they were cutting it close to make this earlier flight. The Senator had someone he wanted to meet while he was in Miami. Tonight was the only time he had available.
Tilting her chin down to hide the bandage, she tried to avoid the people taking photographs. Some called out to the senator and waved.
His constituents seemed to like him and Trish liked him now, but it had taken all day for her to warm up to him. Leanne had been right about Dixon. He had an engaging persona when he stood at a podium, but in an intimate setting he did come across as aloof.
When she reached the gate, the flight was already boarding. A group of at least fifteen women were dressed for fun in the sun wearing shorts, Hawaiian shirts, sandals and crazy hats. Additionally, each one had a matching scarf with a logo for a children’s literacy foundation.
Trish recalled a conference going on in north Miami this week that had to do with literacy. She bet that’s where they were headed and in spite of her aching jaw, she smiled at the way they were cutting up with each other.
Several recognized Dixon, who clicked his robotic, obligatory smile into place and spoke politely, wishing them a good trip. Minimal interaction.
Trish thought he could do more.
Not that her opinion mattered when he had plenty of skilled handlers who knew way more than she did about how he should handle his constituents.
Onboard, she was surprised to find herself seated next to the senator in the middle of h
is entourage, and waited until they had taken off to say, “Thank you for letting me sit with you going back, and for doing this television show, Senator Dixon.”
He gifted her with a genuine smile, filled with warmth. “I enjoyed today, too, and when we’re away from all the hooplah you can call me Ron.”
This man probably lived in a fishbowl existence of nonstop hooplah. “This will be a tremendous help for my business and for the television show, but I hope you enjoy some satisfaction as well.”
“Oh, I will. Donating proceeds from this to the local women’s shelter you suggested is valuable to me. Plus the publicity they’ll receive.”
“This will help you connect more with the female voters, right?”
Ron stared at his hands a moment and said, “That’s always important in politics, but I’ve supported shelters like the one in Miami for a long time. It’s been a private endeavor.”
“I’ll admit that I’ve read a few articles so I’d feel a little familiar with you.”
“Did they help?” His easy smile teased her.
“Not really. I feel like I met the real Ron Dixon today. I’m glad you support the shelters. Why don’t you mention it in interviews?”
“Because of my mother. If not for a shelter like that one, she wouldn’t have survived when she ran from an abusive man to protect me. She’s close to ninety and doesn’t understand that women today would be as proud of her as I am. She feels humiliated by that time in her life and doesn’t want it discussed.”
Trish felt a deep admiration for this man who was not using a personal strife to further his career. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“I know zip about politics, but why didn’t you take advantage of campaigning a little with that group of women that got on this flight?”
“Some people would take offense at being bothered on vacation.”
“I don’t think they’re on vacation. I’m pretty sure they’re headed to a conference in Miami. They were all wearing scarves that supported childhood literacy.”
“Really?” He seemed genuinely surprised to have missed that about the women.