She sighed out a long breath and dropped her arms to her side, looking defeated. Surprisingly, he preferred the lifted chin and challenging look, but the crushed expression was more likely to get him what he needed.
“I left because I’d told you everything I knew about Oren, and I couldn’t give you any other help,” she said. “But mostly, I ran because your agent failed.”
“What agent? When?” he asked, honestly confused.
“The man you put in charge of protecting me at the hospital.”
“Agent Fields? How?”
“He left his station outside my door, and Oren came to the window. He glared at me and mouthed, ‘You’re dead.’ It wasn’t hard to figure out if he could get to me with an agent in charge, he could get to me anywhere.”
“Impossible.” Cal clenched his hands. “Maybe you dreamt seeing Keeler.”
She shook her head hard, sending her hair swinging over bare shoulders, and she planted her hands on curvy hips. “This is why I didn’t tell you about it at the hospital. I knew you’d stick up for your agent, and you wouldn’t believe me. But trust me, the incident is real. I can recount it for you in vivid detail if you’d like, but all you need to know is that it did happen. Ask your agent. If he’s truthful, he’ll tell you he left me alone.”
He trusted Agent Fields, who hadn’t reported stepping away from Tara’s door, but her story was convincing. “Even if it did happen that’s no reason to run.”
“Isn’t it?” She arched an eyebrow, and her gaze lingered on him for a moment. “Oren proved he could get to me. I couldn’t rely on any of you and had to disappear.”
“And how’s that working out for you?” he snapped, but instantly regretted it when her shoulders drooped a fraction before rising again into a hard line. He should have kept his anger in check, but he hated that she couldn’t rely on him. Hated that it was another in a long list of failures of late. But that wasn’t her fault, and he shouldn’t take it out on her.
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “That was uncalled for. If Agent Fields was negligent, I’ll make sure he’s taken to task. And going forward, I won’t trust your care to anyone else. I’ll personally see to your safety.”
She didn’t move, didn’t change expressions, but shifted to stare over his shoulder. He could almost hear the thoughts racing through her head. Could she trust him? Was it better to be with an agent than on her own? Should she even listen to him?
“Look,” he said before she voiced additional opposition. “Why don’t we go up to the tower to talk about this?”
Her gaze returned to him and locked on like a heat-seeking missile. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
He counteracted her intensity with a smile. “Humor me, okay? Give me five more minutes of your time.”
“Fine. Five minutes, and then you hit the road.” She grabbed her rifle and brushed past him to march across the clearing to the stairs.
Her pack on one shoulder, the rifle strap over the other, she stormed up the metal treads. He followed, his eyes locked on her toned legs, and his thoughts took a very unprofessional path.
He dragged his gaze away and ran it over the area. For some reason, his frog sense that warned him on SEAL missions to take extra care crawled up his back and left him uneasy. Why, he didn’t know, but he’d keep his eyes open.
At the top landing, she stepped through the open door and flipped on a light switch.
He gestured at her rifle. “Do you know how to use that, or do I have to worry about stray bullets?”
“I learned to hunt as a kid, and I’ll bet I’ve spent more hours at a firing range in the last few months than you have.” Her chin shot up again.
She was trying to look tough, but he saw her as a cute, irresistible woman who was willing to take on her own personal Goliath to survive, and dang if the uneasiness that had been plaguing him for months didn’t nearly melt on the spot to be replaced with his interest for her as a woman.
She caught his gaze—his intent—and frowned as she spun away.
Good. She didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Her attitude stung, but it would help keep him on track when he had no business thinking about her as a woman. She was a witness and a vital part of this investigation, for goodness’ sake, and he needed to keep things professional so he didn’t get distracted and miss an important lead or put her in danger.
He took a quick look at the single room measuring a couple hundred square feet. White cabinets with aged Formica tops ringed the lower portion of the walls. The upper walls were made of solid glass. Not a good place to defend against an attack.
She went straight to the corner, stowed her bag in a cabinet, then hopped up on top. Leaning back, she rested her feet on the rung of a wooden folding chair with a canvas sling that he suspected had occupied the tower since the fifties. She rested the rifle on her knees as if she thought she needed protection against him.
“There’s no point in pleading your case,” she said. “Since I don’t know anything that can help you, I won’t put myself in a position to allow Oren to get to me. That means I won’t be going back to D.C. with you. I’m good on my own.”
Cal crossed the space and leaned against the ledge of a wide viewing window, trying to act causal and ignore his mounting frustration. “Okay, let’s say for a minute that’s true—and I’m not in any way saying it is—can you honestly turn your back on women whose lives could depend on your help in stopping Keeler?”
Her gaze wavered, and she nibbled on her full lower lip, telling him more about her character than anything had so far. She wanted to help, but fear had gotten the best of her, overpowering her desire to do the right thing.
Once upon a time, he might have promised more than seeing to her safety and gone on to assure her that he could keep her alive. All in the name of gaining her assistance, but now he was wiser. Far wiser, and he recognized that no one could make such a promise, especially not him. He had no control over life-or-death matters. Only God had the power to save lives. When it came to Cal, the big guy had been silent far too long, and Cal had no faith that God would break His silence now.
Still, Cal’s job required him to persuade Tara to accompany him to Washington. He’d do that job to give her the best chance at surviving and to put another bad guy behind bars. “I remain convinced that you saw something that can lead us to Keeler.”
She held up her hand. “I wasn’t lying at the hospital when I told you the details of my time in the pump house are fuzzy. And nothing has changed.”
He peered into eyes clear from guile and deceit. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, but if you’ll come back to D.C., our team will help draw out those memories. We can play the audio of your call from the pump house, and even though the building was destroyed, a visit to the ruins could help stir your memories.”
He pushed off the ledge and stepped closer.
She shot a panicked look around the space as if she wanted to flee.
He came to a stop to keep from threatening her more. “You’re reluctant to do this. I get it, and I wouldn’t put you through it if there was any other way to stop Keeler.”
“Do you get it?” She jumped to her feet and crossed her arms over the rifle. “Oren killed a woman I cared about in Atlanta. I have to stay away from people—all people—if I don’t want him to kill more of my friends. I couldn’t live with myself if another person died because of me.”
Surprised by her response, Cal was at a loss for words. He was wrong. Fear for her own safety wasn’t holding her back; it was fear for others and guilt. Emotions he was on a first-name basis with. He deserved his guilt. She didn’t.
He gentled his voice. “You didn’t set those bombs, Tara. Keeler did. This is all on him, not you. You can’t live your life thinking your actions cause him to kill. I won’t have you feeling guilty.”
Her chin lifted higher. “I’m not sure you can stop it.”
“Guilt will cloud many things in your life if you
let it,” he said, knowing full well the repercussions in his own life. “Your judgment will be compromised. That could interfere in finding Keeler.”
She recoiled but quickly hid her response, and he had no idea what had caused such a visceral reaction from her.
“What is it?” he asked.
She took a breath and blew it out, as if clearing the discussion from her brain. Or maybe clearing him from her brain. “How did you find me?”
She’d changed the subject. Avoidance, pure and simple. If she was to be effective in helping them, he would need to keep an eye out for any impact her guilt had on their hunt for Keeler. For now, he’d let it go and answer her question. “Your aunt.”
“Not possible. I purposely didn’t contact June so she couldn’t be put on the spot by you or Oren. I love her far too much to put her in harm’s way.”
“She didn’t give us your location,” he said. “But she did give us access to your things and shared your vacation pictures. I work with an extraordinary team, and it only takes a scrap of information for us to succeed.”
“Okay, so you got my pictures and figured out that I was moving to cities where I’d vacationed. Doesn’t explain how you came to Oregon. I’ve never been here before.”
“True, but our computer expert discovered you’d previously sold photos on Etsy.” He explained the search process as Kaci had explained it to him and hoped he’d gotten it right.
Tara’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”
He nodded. “Once she found your online storefront at Etsy, it was easy to locate the rest of your information.” He met her gaze head-on and dreaded telling her the next bit, but if it got her to come back to D.C. and remain under his watchful protection, it was worth scaring her. “You know Keeler has strong tech skills. He can find you, too.”
She grabbed a rubber band at her wrist and snapped it. One. Two. Three times. Her gaze shot around the space and panic lodged in her eyes as it had that horrible night three months ago.
Memories often faded over time, but that one hadn’t left Cal’s mind. He could see her stomach ripped open, a silent plea for help as she bled out. He remembered pressing the gauze. The blood seeping through his fingers. Her tortured groans as he hoofed it through the woods, her body cradled in his arms. The pain on her face as she gazed up at him, then looking like an injured puppy in the hospital, and he’d wanted to take her home. Care for her. Vanquish this man who had shot her and left her for dead. To bring back her old life, follow this unwelcome interest in her and maybe be a part of that life.
And that’s where this crazy thinking had to end.
He shouldn’t have let even a hint of his attraction gain a foothold in his mind, let alone allow the thoughts to take as much space as they already did.
She was an integral part of his investigation. The key to locating Keeler. The man who’d killed seven women so far. Seven! And Cal had been powerless to stop him like the day he’d been powerless to save the young boy cradled in his arms.
Cal had failed them all.
Guilt pressed in from all sides, and he shook his head to clear his mind. He couldn’t be thinking about the past. About Tara like this. He had to focus.
He couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—do anything to jeopardize his hunt for the Lone Wolf.
Chapter 7
Tara tuned out Agent Riggins’s continued attempts to convince her to accompany him back to D.C. She avoided looking at his ruggedly handsome face and peered at his suit that fit the wide planes of his chest and shoulders like a glove. Pricey, she thought, as were the loafers polished to military precision.
Odd that he’d chosen to wear a suit in the woods, but maybe he thought it would make him seem more intimidating. Or not, as he’d once asked her to call him Cal and that wasn’t intimidating. More likely his way of manipulating her into thinking he was a friend. Well, he wasn’t a friend. They had a professional relationship, nothing more, and she’d stick with the formality of calling him Agent Riggins like she’d decided to do at the hospital.
Keeping things strictly business was even more necessary now that he’d proved his agenda was in direct opposition to hers. She wanted to stay alive. He wanted to find Oren, no matter what, even if she got hurt in the process.
Oh, for a moment she’d thought he’d been trying to help her come to grips with her guilt—a brief little inkling in time filled with hope—but then, when he’d brought it all back to finding Oren, poof, her good feelings evaporated.
“You’re not listening,” he said.
His accusatory tone set her teeth on edge. “The five minutes you requested was up long ago.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Then I need your answer.”
She didn’t have one, and until she did, she’d use the opportunity to gain information that she’d craved for the last few months. “Suppose you answer a question for me first.”
He continued to watch her, his eyes guarded. “Go ahead.”
“I’m worried about my aunt June. Oren cares about her, so I don’t think he’ll hurt her, but I need to know if she’s in danger, too.”
“She’s fine. I’ve had a team with her round the clock since you took off.”
Surprise. “I didn’t think the FBI had money for full-time protection like that.”
He averted his gaze and became unnaturally still. A behavior she recognized courtesy of her former fiancé, Nolan, who’d acted the same way when he’d tried to hide things from her.
Exactly what was Agent Riggins hiding? Did it have to do with June?
“Wait,” she said as thoughts popped into her head. “You didn’t put the agents there to watch over June. You did it because you hoped Oren would show up and you could capture him.”
Agent Riggins didn’t answer, and time ticked by, but she held her tongue and waited him out.
“My motives were mixed,” he finally said, but didn’t elaborate. “As they are with you. I need your help, but I don’t want to inflict additional pain on you. I hope you’ll voluntarily accompany me back to Washington.”
After his high-handed behavior, she hadn’t expected his kindness, and it brought to mind his care and compassion as he’d rescued her and held her hand on the chopper ride to the hospital. Since he’d arrived tonight, she’d focused on his negatives. No one was one-sided—well, maybe Nolan had been after his true colors had come out—but she doubted the compassionate agent she’d seen at her rescue was the monster she was making him out to be.
That didn’t mean she was eager to go back to D.C. “What happens if I choose not to go with you?”
He remained motionless for a long moment, then pulled a piece of paper from his interior jacket pocket and handed it to her. She felt his eyes on her as she unfolded the page, but he didn’t have to watch for long. The title of the document showed his intent. She slowly refolded the paper and looked up to find hesitation in his gaze, but she didn’t care what he was thinking. She cared only about the message he’d just sent.
“You have a warrant for my arrest?”
“You gave me no choice.”
She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he’d gone too far. Pushing, prodding, now threatening her. After she’d broken off her engagement to Nolan, a real control freak, she swore she’d never let anyone push her around like Agent Riggins was trying to do, but this was a legal document, and short of becoming a fugitive, she could do nothing about it.
That didn’t mean she’d roll over and let him get away with this strong-arm tactic. “I didn’t do anything wrong, and you can’t prove I did.”
“By taking off as you did, you gave us probable cause to name you as a suspect and allowed us to obtain a warrant to question you.”
“That’s ridiculous.” She stood and shoved the paper back into his hands. “You talked to me that night. You heard my voice and how terrified I was. Then you grilled me at the hospital and must have seen the same thing.”
“Okay, fine. We know you’re not working with Keel
er, but I do know that you can help us. And you should know…” His gaze darkened with an intensity that reminded her of her last conversation with Nolan when she’d handed back his ring and walked out the door. “I’ll do anything it takes to bring in the Lone Wolf. If that means I have to arrest you to get you back to D.C., I will.”
At the thought of returning to the bombed-out shell of the pump house, anxiety rose up and tried to smother her. She snapped the bands as a palpable pull seemed to draw her toward the door, but she couldn’t go running off into the night. Oren might be right behind Agent Riggins.
“So will you come with me?” he asked.
“I need more time to think about it,” she replied, in hopes of coming up with an effective argument to his warrant.
“Sorry, no can do. Keeler could be closing in on us, and we should get going now.”
She widened her stance and drew her shoulders back, though at her height of five seven to his over six feet, she knew he didn’t see her as a serious physical threat. At least such a stance hadn’t affected Nolan in any way.
Nevertheless, she remained locked in position. “I’m not leaving here until a replacement lookout is in place.”
“That could take time.”
“Then it’ll take time. I ran when Oren got close before, and he killed a friend because of me. I won’t run now and risk a forest fire killing more people.”
“Fine.” The agent who had so quickly become a pain in her side worked the muscles in his jaw. “We’ll spend the night here. You think about whether you’ll come willingly or not, and I’ll pull some strings to get another lookout here ASAP. Does that work with you?”
“I’d rather have the time alone to think.”
“Not an option. Not with the chance that Keeler knows about this location.” He took his own wide stance, and the powerful planting of his feet was far more effective than hers had been. “You go ahead and get some rest. I’ll take watch while I make a few calls.”
Fatal Mistake--A Novel Page 5