by Allie Adams
A pleasant looking woman smiled into the camera, the landscape of Alki Beach behind her. “The body was found here.” She turned and pointed at the mini of the Statue of Liberty before giving the camera a smile again. “Joggers out for their usual morning run came across something that was anything but usual.”
The camera flashed to a man, his face blurred and his voice distorted. The news anchor held a microphone up to him.
The man spoke. The station added subtitles due to the digital distortion in the voice. “It was like those movies you see where they torture the guy. He was all beat up. And from what I've seen on CSI, the body don't bruise like that if the guy is already dead, you know? That dude was still alive, even when some of his fingers were chopped off.”
Spencer pegged him as eighteen to twenty-five. Over six feet. Skinny. Dark hair. A t-shirt with one of the local bars front and center. They may have blurred his face, but they didn't bother covering up the tat on his lower arm. He'd done time in prison. It wouldn't take more than a few hours to track him down.
So much for protecting his identity.
The camera returned to the anchorwoman on location, who had a grave look on her face for effect. The press didn't give a rat's ass about the stories they reported on or how their stories affected those around them. As long as they got their ratings, they'd sensationalize any story they could.
“Police are treating this as a homicide. What really baffles them is the note attached to the body identifying him as a member of a cult-like group known as the Order.”
Spencer stilled as a mix of fury, disbelief, and gut-wrenching fear almost blinded him. He grabbed the remote and turned the volume up.
“Taunting them is the promise of another death to follow. The Seattle police are currently working on leads but need your help. If you were anywhere near Alki Beach between nine o'clock last night and six o'clock this morning and you saw anything suspicious, please contact the police. I'm Samantha Cook, reporting for KNWS, Seattle.”
The camera flashed back to the news station and another anchorwoman smiled into the camera. “Thank you, Samantha. Police are asking for any help. Take a look at this composite drawing of the body.”
“Fuck!” Spencer focused on the picture and made the connection, his worst fear realized. Goddamn it. The picture on the screen was the subject he knew as Sam Green.
He ran out of the house, a deep foreboding controlling his actions.
The thought of Kathryn in danger consumed him as he raced to his car. The tires screeched in protest to his sudden acceleration, but Spencer didn't let off the gas until he was at Kathryn's apartment and skidded to a stop on the other side of the parking lot. He spotted her Xterra, relieved to find it here, and jumped out of the car. Taking the steps two at a time, he reached her second story apartment and pounded on the door.
“Kathryn! Kathryn!” No response. Spencer pounded harder. “Kathryn!” He heard a click on the other side of the door and instinctively reached for his sidearm.
As the door opened, Spencer brought the gun forward. When he saw her, her eyes wide as she focused on the gun, he immediately brought it back.
“What the hell?” She watched with a gaping mouth as he forced himself past her and searched her apartment. “What are you doing?” She followed him from room to room while he methodically hunted for any signs of imminent danger. “Spencer?”
“Turn on the news.” He ran his fingers underneath tables, feeling for wires. Not that it mattered. He and Kathryn wouldn't be staying.
“Why? What's going on?” Her tone was a cross between confusion and irritation.
“Just do it.”
“Damn it, Spencer! I'm not doing anything until you tell me what is going on right now!”
He stopped and stood rigid, his gaze riveting to her face. It wasn't up for negotiation. She thinned her lips and marched to the TV, turned it on, and then crisply folded her arms.
“There, are you happy? Now tell me what the hell is going on.”
But he didn't have to. She had her TV tuned to a different station than his was and the story about the body had just come on. The composite sketch of Sam Green flashed onto the screen. Kathryn took a breath to say something but fell silent when she eyed the screen. “Isn't that...” She gasped and brought a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God, it is. You killed him. I can't believe TREX killed him.”
“TREX released him,” he corrected. “Green was helping track Salazar.”
She sucked in a breath and widened her eyes. “I forgot about that.” She hurried and grabbed her phone. “He called me.”
He slammed his gun into its holster as his suspicions inched higher. “Who called you?”
“Damon Salazar.”
Spencer grabbed her phone out of her hands to view the number. It had a local area code, but that didn't mean anything. He knew without tracing it that it would track back to another burner phone. Salazar definitely covered his tracks. “Why did he call you?”
“Don't pull the jealousy card.”
He glared at her and hoped it conveyed the rage bubbling just below the surface. “Trust me. I'm nowhere close to being jealous, sweetheart. I'm pissed off. Now answer my question.”
She rolled her eyes. “He called me the day of the Green search and helped me complete my IQS. It's how I knew where to send your agents.”
“He helped you,” Spencer chuckled and doubled up his fists. Lifting his gaze to the ceiling, searching for a way to contain his temper that he knew he wouldn't find, he shook his head and finally pinned her with another glare. “No, Kathryn. He played you.”
Shock and disbelief slackened the expression on her face. “No. He helped me.”
Even as she said it, doubt swirled in her eyes. Salazar wouldn't even help his own mother cross the street and they both knew it.
“Think about it.” Spencer did another sweep of the room just in case he missed anything the first time. “He gave you his number, knowing you'd give it to me to trace. He called you—not from the same number, by the way—knowing you'd again give it to me to trace.”
“You sure think a lot of yourself.”
He looked at her. “Tell me I'm wrong.”
She refused to say anything and instead thrust out her chin as her answer. Same stubborn woman. He clenched his teeth and went back to sweeping the room.
“Fine,” she finally admitted. “If he played me, then why did he help me find his friend?”
“You heard Green's confession over the radio. They turned on each other. It happens all the time. Since Salazar couldn't find him, he called on the one person he knew would help him.” He looked at her again, waiting for her to put it together.
She dropped her gaze. “Oh, God. I played right into it. Here I thought I had him fooled into thinking I actually liked him. I feel like a complete idiot.”
“Believe it or not, Sam Green wasn't the guy we originally thought. He told TREX Salazar's plan. Because Martin Miller wouldn't give in to Salazar's threats, the bastard took Tommy to force Miller into joining his side.”
“But Green said Salazar planned to kill Tommy. Why, if he needed him to get Martin Miller to do what he wanted?”
“My guess was to make sure Miller never stepped out of line. Tommy isn't his only grandson. Killing one ensured Miller would do what he wanted or he'd lose another.”
Kathryn put a hand to her mouth yet again. “Sweet Jesus.”
“That's not all.” Spencer grabbed the remote then cranked the volume on the TV.
The anchorwoman stared into the camera. “What concerns police is the note literally pinned to the front of the victim promising another death.”
The camera jumped to the spokesmen for the Seattle Police Department. “Early this morning we discovered a body on Alki Beach.” Flashes of light caused the officer to squint as the press took still shots for their newspaper. “We found a note pinned to the body. We don't usually make this sort of information public, but we don't know what it means
and according to the note, we don't have much time.”
The man put his glasses on and held up a piece of paper. “This is meant for the one who found me: The Order knows who you are and will find you.” The man removed his glasses and looked back out to the crowd. “All of the witnesses who discovered him this morning have been placed in protective custody.”
“They're wasting their time. They didn't find him.” He turned to Kathryn as his gut clenched. “You did.”
Kathryn fell onto her couch. “This can't be happening.” He closed the distance between them, stopping in front of her and grasping her hands. She tried to jerk away but he tightened his grip. She relaxed and even curled her finger around his. “Oh, Spencer. What did we get ourselves into?”
He squeezed her hands, holding them tight as she trembled in his grasp. He'd give anything to comfort her, to show her that he'd never let anything happen to her. But, he knew if he tried, she'd only push him away. “I don't know, baby. But we'll get through it. Okay?”
A lovely shade of crimson glowed in her cheeks like a fever. She swallowed her stubbornness and nodded. “What the hell did this guy confess that would put a death threat literally pinned to his body?” Kathryn met his eyes.
He wished he had a clue. Spencer buried his uncertainty deep. She didn't need to see that in him. No she only needed his strength right now and nothing else. “He mentioned a double agent in the Order. Someone playing both sides.”
She nodded. “That actually makes sense. I had some notes on the Miller search as well as the Green search and was trying to connect the dots when the papers disappeared.”
“Disappeared?” His spine grew stiff, the ominous feeling of imminent danger taking hold of his very fiber. He knew better than to ignore it.
She nodded and closed her eyes, resting her head on the back of the couch. “That was the only thing taken, I think.”
Ah, Jesus. He sat down next to her. She tried to get up, but he pushed her back down. “That's why you were in front of my house. Something happened here. Tell me.”
“My neighbor came to my door and told me about some guy in my apartment when I wasn't here. When I turned around, papers that should have been sitting right on my coffee table were gone. That's all.”
That sure as hell wasn't all. Spencer pulled Kathryn to her feet. “I'm getting you out of here. Now.”
She jerked her arm away as fury flashed in those icy blue eyes. “I'm not going anywhere. I'm fine. Right. Here.” Her finger on his chest emphasized each word.
He pointed toward her room. “Grab only what you need. We leave in two minutes.”
“Quit ordering me around. I'm not going anywhere with you.”
He did his best attempt at softening his voice. It came out dangerously low all the same. “Leave under your own power or I throw you over my shoulder and we leave that way. Your choice.”
“Fine,” she said after thrusting out her chin. “But I drive myself.”
“Fine.” He didn't want her to drive, but if he at least got her out of the apartment, he could discuss the logistics once they were outside. “Just hurry up.”
TWENTY-SIX
Kat didn't even notice what she shoved inside her bag. Spencer ordered her around like a child. She wanted to defy him in the worst way, but there were sometimes a person just didn't go against him. This was the ultimate of one of those times. He looked ready to punch a hole through concrete.
“Hurry up,” Spencer ordered. He paced back and forth outside her door like some a guard keeping watch. She threw something else in her bag and jerked the zipper closed. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound, grabbed the bag when she left it on the bed, and muttered something under his breath and followed her out.
“Where are we going?”
He shook his head and pointed at the door.
Kat frowned. “What?”
He touched his lips and then pointed around the room.
Oh, shit. Was her place bugged? The thought of someone listening in on anything she said bothered the hell out of her. She passed him through her apartment door. He shot his arm out and stopped her. His hand brushed across her breast and he didn't bother moving it.
“Jerk,” she muttered and shifted aside.
He glared at her. “If I wanted to touch you,” he retorted, not an ounce of kindness in his voice. “I'd do it in an entirely different manner.” He pulled her down the stairs that led to the parking lot. “So give the bitch act a rest.”
She chewed on the inside of her lip, but didn't say another word. Halfway down the stairs, Kat pushed her remote to unlock her doors as emphasis that she planned to drive herself.
There was a slight beep, then another beep. Looking at her remote, she held it out and pushed it again as Spencer yelled, “No!”
He hooked an arm around her waist just as a powerful explosion blew them back against the stairs. She landed and the breath whooshed from her lungs. Spencer tucked her head against him and wrapped his arms around her, but she still slammed the back of her head against the cement stairs behind her.
Car alarms shrieked into the silence of the night as parts of her Xterra and the cover she parked under rained down on them. What remained on the ground was now a ball of angry flames so intense the heat seared her cheeks.
She screamed and curled into Spencer as another explosion sent whatever was left of her beloved SUV up in the air.
Spencer covered her with his body, sheltering her completely. “Are you okay?”
No, she wasn't okay. Someone had just tried to kill her by blowing up her vehicle. Screw her anger, her pain. Right now her fear won out. She trembled and held onto him for dear life. “Spence?”
“I'm here, baby.” He held her tight and, for the first time since she found out the truth a week ago, she'd never wanted his arms around her more than she did at that very moment.
“Someone blew up my Xterra,” she cried against him. The fear racing through her had cleared her mind enough for her to see what had Spencer so intent on staying by her side. “S-someone is trying to k-kill me.”
“Now do you believe me?” He grabbed her hand, jerking them both to their feet. “Come on.”
“But my baby,” she protested and turned back to see it completely engulfed in flames. Tears filled her eyes, but her mourning quickly turned to concern when she saw the flames had set what was left of the cover over the assigned parking on fire. “Oh no.”
He lead her over to his car. “Get in.” She did and sank down when Spencer pushed on her head. As he spun the car around and sped out of the parking lot, she brought a hand up to her mouth and bit down on her finger to stop herself from hyperventilating.
Oh God. OhGodOhGodOhGod. Someone had meant for her to be in her Xterra when that bomb detonated. She gulped hard, the realization she could have died had Spencer not insisted they leave together, too much for her to comprehend. Fear choked her. Hot, consuming tears of panic rolled down her cheeks, burning her skin.
Burying her face against the car seat, she curled into a ball on the floor and did her best at attempting to regulate her breathing before she fainted. Maybe she should just let her panic attack take over. Passing out sounded pretty good about now. Then she would have to think about this or anything else.
Several minutes went by before he drove at a less erratic pace. “I think it's safe for you to come up now.” He watched all of his mirrors while he spoke.
Slowly, Kat climbed into the seat, then put on her seat belt. Her lower lip quivered. This was all too much. Why would anyone want her dead? What did she do wrong?
He rubbed her neck. God, it felt good. Too good. She wanted to lose herself in his touch, if only for a minute. “I'm scared.”
“Don't be. I'm right here.”
She closed her eyes and wasn't too proud to demand, “Don't you dare leave me.”
“Never.” He kept his hand resting on her neck. “I'm going to drive around for a while. Once I'm sure we weren't followed, I'll take yo
u home.”
Kat shuddered and sank back down in her seat. “I don't want to go back there.”
“I meant my house.”
She wanted to erase this past week. The discovery of the truth behind the Haynes search. Knowing Spencer had a hand in the death of Emery Haynes. Having Damon Salazar playing her and her not even seeing it. It exhausted her beyond belief. And now she was on the run from God-only-knew. What else could go wrong?
“There's something you should know.” Spencer spoke in a cautious tone. She squeezed her eyes tighter. “TREX intercepted an email threat to you a few weeks back.”
Kat slumped in her seat. She was beyond caring at this point. “Let me guess. Someone wants me dead.”
“Yes.”
Rolling her head, she opened her eyes to slits and looked at him. “And you knew?”
He nodded.
Knowing Spencer knew and didn't tell her just added salt to her already gaping wound. She couldn't trust the man. He must think she was really some sort of pathetically fragile flower for him to try and hide so much from her, all in the name of protection. What a fool she'd been to think he wanted to be by her side because he cared. No, he was simply acting as a TREX agent by treating her like a job.
“I don't think whoever did this will follow us home.”
Enough. Kat gritted her teeth and turned her eyes to the window, away from him. “Don't call it that.”
“What?”
“It isn't my home, Spencer. It's yours.”
“I don't give a shit what you want to call it. I'm taking you home.”
She'd irritated him yet again, and if she didn't stop pushing him, he'd pass over the threshold into downright pissed off. Tough shit. “I'd feel better if you dropped me somewhere else.”
“Jesus Christ. You have to trust me here. Someone just tried to kill you. Will you please act rational for one fucking second and let me help you?”
She turned to him. He looked on the verge of crossing that threshold. His eyes were lethal and his jaw so taut she could bounce a quarter off it. “Do you want me to make a list of all the reasons why I shouldn't trust you?”