“This fits your theory, Shane,” Cal said. “Keeler doesn’t hate women per se, and the women he’d killed must have something in common that we’re missing.”
“Once we get back to D.C., I’ll take another look through the victims’ files,” Shane offered.
“What you all are saying is that you think my rejection is Oren’s catalyst, but you still have no idea why he targeted the women he killed.” Tara sighed.
Cal peered at her and noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She was exhausted and could do with a good night’s sleep. He would suggest she go to bed, but she wouldn’t leave this room and miss out on something, so he should wrap up their conversation.
“So,” Cal said. “It looks like our most viable lead right now is the Tannerite, which could lead us to a local dealer who might have additional information on Keeler.”
“And we could find a second rifle,” Brynn added.
Cal smiled at her optimism. “The local office has freed up agents to search in the morning, and that should speed things along.”
Tara sat up, suddenly looking very alert. “I could help, too.”
All eyes swung to focus on her.
Cal shook his head. “That’s not an option.”
She lifted her chin. “You need my help.”
“I’m pretty sure we can handle the search.” Cal hated that he came across as patronizing, but he wasn’t about to let her wander around in the general area where Keeler had been spotted.
Tara came to her feet, planted her hands on her hips, and stared at him. “I know the property better than anyone. I can show you how to move through the forest on hidden routes that Oren likely used as he approached the gate and my truck. That’s where you’re going to find a weapon if he ditched one.”
“Still,” Cal said, putting force into the word. “It’s not something I’ll allow.”
“What about the rest of you?” She ran her gaze around the group, pausing to meet each person’s eyes. “If there’s a rifle out there, I’m your best hope of finding it, and I’m asking you to consider letting me help.”
Chapter 15
Tara’s statement brought awkward silence to the room, but she wouldn’t back down. Oren had ruined a homeless vet’s life and killed another innocent woman. Sure, he hadn’t killed her with a bomb, but he’d taken a life, and Tara was now more committed to doing everything possible to help catch him, even if it meant she had to put her own life on the line.
She pulled her shoulders back and ran her gaze over the group again. “I think we should put this to a vote. Who’s onboard with me helping?”
Tara heard Cal inhale and blow out a breath, but she wouldn’t back down. In fact, she looked at him and held his gaze, even though his expression said he wanted to wring her neck.
“Sounds like a good idea to me.” Brynn’s voice was strong and unwavering. “With all the acreage we have to search, Tara could really cut down the time we—”
“No.” Cal’s voice held a definite edge that Tara hadn’t heard before. “I won’t allow her to participate in the search.”
“Because she’s a civilian?” Rick asked before Tara could ask the same question. “Or do you have another reason you’d like to share with us?”
Cal clenched his hands. “It’s too dangerous for her to wander the woods.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Shane, the guy who seemed the most even-tempered of the team, asked. “We’ll have groups of Portland agents involved in the weapon search tomorrow, and Keeler’s not going to show up. If he planned to attack, he would have done it today when you left only three of us on her detail.”
“He’s right,” Kaci added. “And as an extra precaution, we can put Tara in tactical gear, and she should be good to go.”
“Since everyone but Cal is in favor of this,” Rick said. “Our plan is clear.”
Cal came to his feet. “I’d like to talk to Tara alone.”
No one moved.
Looking like he wanted to crash a hand into the wall, Cal curled his fingers into tight fists and met his teammates’ gazes. “Make yourselves scarce.”
“We’ve decided, Cal,” Brynn said quietly. “Leave it at that, okay?”
His jaw tightened, and a thunderous look claimed his face. “A minute with Tara is all I ask.”
Rick stood and grabbed the pizza box. “There’s a media room downstairs filled with DVDs. We can unwind with a movie.” He headed for the stairs.
Tara stood in place, but Cal went to the large window looking over the yard and faced outside. One by one, each teammate cast him a long look, but he remained peering out at the night, so he couldn’t have seen them. However, he did have to feel their intense study as tension crackled through the room. He’d made his anger perfectly clear, but she didn’t know if he was mad because she’d gone against his wishes and usurped his control, or if he felt like his team betrayed him.
Memories of Nolan going off on one of his tirades, demanding her compliance with whatever arbitrary rule he’d come up with—berating and browbeating her—left her apprehensive of the man in front of her who seemed barely in control of his emotions.
A knot formed inside her chest while she waited to be alone with him. But then she remembered that he’d offered to go to bat for Hickson simply because he felt a loyalty to a fellow vet. Nolan had no loyalties. He didn’t even know the meaning of the word.
But Cal?
He’d been loyal to her, protecting her at all costs. Loyal to his quest for justice for the murdered women. To his team. He really was an incredible man if you could get over the fact that he tried to control everything. Maybe it was a good thing she couldn’t get past it.
The last one to depart, Kaci started down the stairs, giving Tara a reassuring glance before disappearing from view.
She was eager to talk this out and faced Cal. “Everyone’s gone.”
Looking over his shoulder, he glanced around the room before stepping in her direction.
“Why don’t we sit down?” he suggested, his tone not at all angry or harsh as she’d expected.
She appreciated his change in attitude, but she had to believe he would ask her to reconsider her decision, and standing made her feel more confident. “I’d like to stand.”
“I don’t want you to do this,” he said softly, though his body language was anything but soft.
She wouldn’t let that deter her. “I don’t get the change in you. Last night you showed up here and begged for my help. I hate to admit it, but I put myself and my safety first when I should have been thinking of others. So now I’m thinking of them and giving you all the help I can provide, and you don’t want it.”
He narrowed his stance and shoved his hands into his pockets as if trying to physically withdraw from her, but as he looked away, she caught a flash of dark anguish in his eyes. She saw a tortured soul, pain, and torment that went far deeper than this disagreement with her, but his about-face said he didn’t plan to share it with her.
What was he trying so hard to keep buried? Was it guilt? Sadness? Regret? The reason for turning his back on his faith? Would he ever tell her? Did she even want to know?
Enough with the questions that he’ll likely never answer.
“Cal,” she said to gain his attention. “I don’t want to go against your wishes if helping with the search is foolish, which is why I asked your team to weigh in. If the others don’t think this is a mistake, I think it’s safe for me to help, don’t you?”
He shook his head but didn’t speak.
She stepped closer, drawing his full attention. “What’s going on? You want to catch Oren more than anything, so what’s changed that you don’t want my help?”
He clasped a hand on the back of his neck and started massaging. “I can’t explain it.”
He’d never shown a loss for words before, and she wondered if he wasn’t willing to talk to her. Another trait of a man needing to be in charge.
And yet…she couldn’t let go
of the fact that she’d come to see there was far more to Cal. Something that he worked very hard to keep hidden, and when she should be heeding the warning signs and running the other way, she kept wanting to find out what that something was. To get to know the real Cal Riggins. To find out if he was indeed like Nolan or if that other, deeper man that she’d seen hints of actually existed.
She groaned internally. This kind of thinking showed why she’d wound up hurt and alone in past relationships. And worse, in this case, she’d seen Cal’s tendencies right up front and had no business trying to figure him out.
She had to stick with the investigation, keep up that wall between them as he was doing, and do nothing more. “Give me one good reason not to help tomorrow, and I’ll back down.”
He met her gaze. “I don’t have a good reason, all right? I don’t know why my feelings about your involvement have changed, they just have.”
* * *
Tara’s throat closed, and she clawed at her neck to dislodge the bomb. Fear, frenzied and raw, bubbled up, and she ripped the item free, then shot into an upright position and ran a frantic gaze around the space to get her bearings.
She was in her bedroom at the safe house, and the sheet had twined around her neck.
A nightmare. She’d had another one.
She pushed her sweaty hair from her forehead and kicked off the covers to rush into the attached bathroom. She ran cold water, splashed her face, and looked into the mirror. Panic lingered in her eyes and charcoal-colored slashes clung below them.
“This has got to stop,” she whispered.
Last night she’d slept peacefully, and she’d honestly hoped that meant she’d feel safer with Cal around and the nightmares would stop. But tonight’s nightmare had been the worst one yet, the sheets feeling like one of Oren’s necklace bombs.
She now got a glimpse at his victims’ terror as they waited for the bomb to detonate. They must have ached to claw at their throats but couldn’t move an inch for fear of setting off the bomb. She ran her fingers over her neck above the tank top she’d slept in and tried to take a deep breath, but she couldn’t manage to gain enough air.
She rushed from the room and raced for the French doors, where she tapped in the code for the security alarm. Outside, she gulped in the coolness of the night and listened to trickling water run through the property.
Her body still overheated, she hurried down the stairs and sat at the edge of the creek to dip her feet into icy-cold water coming from the mountains. She cupped water into her hands and sloshed it down her legs, getting the hem of her shorts wet, but she didn’t care. She took another handful and ran it over her face, down the back of her neck, the chilly goodness making a path between her shoulders. Feeling her breathing ease, she pulled up her knees and hugged her arms around them.
She wished Cal had never shown her the drawing of the necklace bomb. Every detail in the picture had lodged in her memory and transferred to her dreams. How ironic. She had no trouble remembering every tiny detail of Cal’s drawing, but she had no recollection of the night at the pump house. Maybe the memory loss was God’s way of keeping her from even worse nightmares.
Maybe…if God was listening and watching. But was He? She didn’t deserve for Him to be. Not when she’d taken off without consulting Him. She’d once heard that when faced with difficulties, a person could either be fearless and courageous or be hopeless and rebellious. She’d chosen the latter and severed the cord that anchored her to trusting God. She wished she could cast out a new line, but God’s plan in all of this was still hidden, and she felt helpless to act.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind her, and without looking, she knew Cal crossed the deck and came down the stairs. “You shouldn’t be out here.”
She glanced up at him. He’d firmed his jaw in a hard line and narrowed his eyes.
She didn’t want to tell him about the nightmare. Being a guy he’d try to fix it when he could do nothing to help short of arresting Oren, and she couldn’t be sure even that would work right now. Besides worrying about Oren killing her, she also feared that these nightmares would continue forever.
How could she go about life like that? She could never have a relationship that was for sure. No man would want to be saddled with such an emotionally damaged partner.
Or was Cal the kind of guy who could handle it? He obviously had his own issues, so maybe he could understand.
Enough with all of this crazy introspection. She wanted to clamp her hands over her ears and maybe her mind would quiet for once.
Without offering further chastisement, Cal dropped down next to her. Though he sat a few feet away, the heat from his body stretched between them, and she felt drawn to him.
Or maybe she imagined the warmth because she’d become so aware of him as a man. His long legs were bent, the muscles of his thighs coiled as if ready to spring into action. She had no doubt he would come to her defense and defeat any enemy that breached the security of the fence. Her own personal knight, his armor that of iron will and determination. His sword, his caring and dedication.
“You had a bad dream,” he stated flatly.
How did he know? She flashed him a questioning look.
“My room is next to yours, and I heard you. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you came out here to get some air.” He paused a moment, his gaze searching hers.
She didn’t know how to reply, so she took hold of a rubber band and snapped it.
He pressed his hand over her wrist, the heat from his touch sending her head spinning. “I hate to see you hurt yourself like that.”
She should pull her arm free, but she closed her eyes and let his touch soothe her already-heated skin. “It’s the only thing that works for me.”
“If I asked, would you consider taking them off?”
Would she? She didn’t know, so she shrugged.
“Then will you at least consider coming inside?” His unusually gentle tone wrapped around her like a soothing heat wrap.
She wanted to comply, but she wasn’t ready to be cooped up again. She also couldn’t talk about the nightmare or her rubber bands.
“This guard you put up all the time,” she said, turning the focus on him in hopes that he might respond to her this time. “Is it from something in your past or living the SEAL motto you told me about?”
He went quiet. Not that she expected him to respond, but at least it stopped him from asking additional questions.
“Both,” he said.
Surprised that he’d answered, she swiveled to face him, her wrist pulling free, and she immediately missed his touch.
“I was a SEAL for enough years to know that if you don’t keep up your defenses, people can die.” He looked into her eyes. “People like you, and I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you. I get that I’m coming on strong when it comes to protecting you, but I only want to make sure you’re safe.”
In the fathomless bottom of his eyes, she glimpsed a level of caring that took her breath. This hunt for Keeler was very personal for him. She was personal for him.
“Why?” she whispered, even though she shouldn’t go down this path. “Why this deep interest in protecting me?”
“It’s my job.”
“And that’s all it is to you?” Breath held, she waited for his answer.
Water trickled over her feet and frogs chirped in the distance, but he remained silent.
“Cal?” she asked, yet wished she’d been strong enough not to need to.
“We…you and me, we have something. A connection.” His eyes flashed up to meet hers and held. “You can feel it, too. Right?”
Should she answer truthfully? She couldn’t look him in the eye as she considered her response, so she ran her gaze over him.
He wore his tactical pants and the navy shirt that molded to his toned body. His jaw was rugged, his eyes soft and caring. He was the complete physical package, so her attraction to him made sense, but it went deeper than that and w
as stronger than she’d first thought. Something that hadn’t happened since, well, since never.
Why now, God? Why him?
She raised her gaze to Cal’s. “I don’t want to be attracted to you.”
“But you are?” he asked again, as if he needed to hear her admit it.
“Yes.” She kept it at one word and wouldn’t elaborate, as speaking it aloud would make things worse.
“Then we need to get beyond it, or at least I need to. I’m charged with finding a serial killer and making sure you don’t become one of his victims.” The warmth evaporated from his gaze, and his shoulders stiffened. “We need to keep things professional between us. Let’s agree to avoid situations like this, especially when we’re alone under the stars.”
“Why, Cal Riggins, I think you’re a romantic at heart,” she teased, in hopes of lightening things up a bit.
“Maybe.” He started to get up.
“Wait.” She shot out a hand to clutch his wrist. His pulse throbbed under her fingers, making her even more aware of him as a man, but she banished thoughts of him from her mind.
“I didn’t thank you for this morning, for risking your life for me,” she said. “If you hadn’t been there. Been willing to cover me…” Tears threatened, and she looked up to stem them. “So if you want me to back down on helping tomorrow, I will.”
“It’s your decision.” His voice held no hint of his true thoughts. “I won’t tell you what to do, but I hope you’ll at least think about my reservations.” He smiled and their gazes collided.
Emotions raced along her nerve ends so fast she couldn’t even put a name to them. She opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t know what to say. How to act.
“I want to let you do this, but when you look at me like you’re doing now…” His low, husky voice wrapped around her. “I can’t think, much less entertain the thought that you would put your life on the line.”
“I can’t either,” she whispered. “Think, that is.”
His smile widened, one corner crookedly tipping higher. He gently cupped the side of her face, and then, not breaking eye contact, he got to his feet and tugged her up. She half hoped he’d stood to draw her into his arms, as she wanted nothing more than to feel the security of rock-solid arms holding her right now, but he let go of her hand and stepped back.
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