“So I thought you weren’t going to come back to Indy before summer,” I said. Not that I was complaining. I’d heard nothing from Kade since he’d left late Christmas night, and I’d worried, knowing that his job was dangerous—and most likely highly illegal.
Kade shrugged. “Had some downtime. Thought I’d give you a hand in your new job, since I’m guessing Blane didn’t give you a lot to do.”
I shook my head ruefully. “No, not really. Background checks, paperwork, that kind of stuff. That’s about all.”
I’d had the distinct impression Blane hadn’t approved of my promotion, though whether it was because he felt I wasn’t qualified for the job or if he thought it was too dangerous, I didn’t know.
“Boring,” Kade decreed.
I shot him a grin in agreement.
Kade leaned toward me. “Stick with me, princess,” he said conspiratorially. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m never boring.”
We landed without incident (thank God), and soon were driving toward downtown Denver in a rented SUV. I’d never seen mountains and I stared in wonder at the snowcapped Rockies off in the distance.
“You ever been here before?” Kade asked, watching me gaze out the window.
“I’ve never been anywhere before,” I answered truthfully.
“No vacations as a kid?”
“Disney World once. A cop’s salary wasn’t the stuff dreams are made of, so we didn’t go many places.”
“Who’s your favorite princess, princess?”
I laughed at his question, my mood lightening. “Belle, of course.”
“Why ‘of course’?”
“She’s smart, loyal to her dad and the Beast, clever, brave, kind, warmhearted.” I ticked off the many attributes of Princess Belle on my fingers. “And she loves to read.”
“I thought Cinderella would be every little girl’s favorite.”
I grimaced. “No way. She was a complete doormat for her stepmom and stepsisters. Though she does get all the press.”
Kade laughed, a sound I rarely heard him make. It was good to hear.
“You obviously have given this a great deal more thought than I have,” he said.
“Belle’s awesome,” I continued, extolling her virtues. “She was able to see past the curse on the Beast to what he was—who he could be—on the inside. He became a better person because she loved him and he loved her.” I sighed. “It’s a great love story.”
Kade’s voice had an edge to it as he glanced my way. “So are you Belle? A woman who could love a beast?”
Our eyes met and I drew a sharp breath, just now realizing the subtext of our conversation. Suddenly the light banter about Disney princesses, of all things, was rife with deeper meaning.
“Life’s not a fairy tale,” I said, avoiding the question. “If it were, I’d get to wear a ball gown every day.”
Kade chuckled again and the tension was broken.
“Sorry I missed your birthday,” Kade said after a while.
Surprised, I said, “It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to remember it.”
My birthday had been a couple of weeks ago, on January 21. I was now officially twenty-five years old.
“What did you do to celebrate?”
“Blane took me out to dinner,” I said. “It was nice. He bought me a purse.”
I didn’t say that he’d not bought me just any purse, but a brand that I knew cost over a thousand dollars. I’d been terrified to use it—afraid I’d get something on it or mess it up. It still sat in the pretty bag it had come in, on the top shelf in my closet.
Talking about Blane reminded me of the conversation we’d had last night, and my stomach twisted.
“What’s going on?” Kade asked, glancing my way. “You look like I just told you Belle’s a fictional character.”
I smiled halfheartedly. “Blane called last night.” I hesitated, unsure if I should tell Kade what Blane had said. Surely Blane wouldn’t mind; they were brothers, after all. “He said… he said that he was thinking of reenlisting.”
I looked at Kade, whose hands had tightened on the steering wheel.
“Why the fuck would he do something so stupid?” Kade gritted out.
I shook my head. “He said something about a special liaison position, but that first he’d go back on active duty for six months. Back to Iraq, or Afghanistan.”
I could feel the tension rolling off Kade in waves, and it seemed neither of us had anything to say after that. It grew quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
Downtown Denver was busy this Sunday morning, and traffic was thick. As we drove through the city, the buildings became increasingly older and more dilapidated. Car and foot traffic thinned to a trickle, and then Kade turned down a side street. It was an odd mix of residential and industrial, with a few scattered brick warehouses among small run-down homes.
A couple of kids were playing in the front yard of one house, and my eyes were drawn to them: two boys, about nine or ten years old, running around with a dog as scraggly as they were. One of the boys threw a stick and the dog bounded gamely after it.
After another block, Kade pulled the car to the side of the street and stopped. We were in front of one of those brick warehouses.
“This is where Ryan Sheffield lived?” I asked, skeptical.
“Home sweet home,” Kade replied. “Let’s go check it out.” He pulled the gun from the holster at his hip and made sure it was loaded, then glanced meaningfully at me.
“I have it,” I groused, hooking the long strap of my purse over my head and across my chest. The small gun he’d bought me lay inside. I refused to wear it in a holster like Kade. I just wasn’t comfortable enough with the firearm to do that.
“Gee, I feel so safe knowing my partner has a gun… buried inside her purse,” Kade said sarcastically.
I rolled my eyes. “Are we going or not?”
In reply, Kade got out of the car.
It was warmer than I’d expected, so I shucked my coat and left it in the front seat of the car. Kade discarded his leather jacket as well. The thin cotton of his black button-down shirt fit him closely. He’d rolled back the cuffs, and the top buttons were undone, exposing the skin of his throat. Unlike Blane, he didn’t wear a T-shirt underneath.
I realized I was staring and jerked my gaze away before Kade could notice and make some smart-ass comment.
I followed as Kade crossed the street and rounded the building to the west side. We passed boarded-up windows, and some that were broken, their tinted glass shards reflecting bits of sunlight back at me. They almost seemed like eyes watching me go by. I shuddered.
“How’d you find this place again?” I asked. By now we’d reached the back. Kade paused in front of a staircase that led down to a steel door.
“I hacked into the CIA,” he said casually before starting down the stairs.
My jaw dropped. “You what?” I squeaked. “You can’t do that!”
I hurried after him, appalled, and latched on to his arm so he would look at me. “They put people in prison for that, Kade.”
One corner of his mouth twisted upward. “Only if you get caught.”
He pulled a lockpick from his pocket and crouched down. Quicker than I wanted to believe, the door clicked open.
“How do you do that so fast?” I groused quietly, remembering how long it had taken me to pick a lock while sitting in the comfort of my living room.
“Because I’m good,” Kade replied, just as softly, easing open the door and leading the way inside.
It was dark and musty. The meager light filtering in through the dirt-crusted windows wasn’t enough to illuminate the space. Kade stood for a moment, listening, and I did, too, unsure what exactly we were listening for. There seemed to be no one else there.
Kade started forward, his gun in his hand, and I fell into step behind him. I disliked being in the back, but I didn’t want to lead, either. It felt uncomfortably reminiscent of going through a haunted
house—a surprise might be around the corner up ahead, but it was just as likely someone was waiting to pounce on you when your back was turned.
Kade moved so silently I felt clumsy in his wake. Even my breathing sounded loud in my ears.
We crept down a long hallway to a set of stairs going up. At the top was a hallway that stretched in both directions.
“You go left, I’ll go right,” Kade said. “Yell if you find something.”
Right.
I reached into my purse and reluctantly pulled out my gun. The heavy weight of it in my hand was somewhat comforting as Kade disappeared around a corner.
“Yell if I find something,” I muttered to myself. “You can bet your ass I’ll be yelling.” Screaming bloody murder, more like it.
I walked down the hallway, opening the first two doors I found, and peered into empty, abandoned rooms. My heart was pounding so fast I felt light-headed. I tried to slow my breathing.
“It’s all right. Nothing’s going to jump out and grab me,” I reassured myself.
Yeah, right.
One door remained. I held my gun steady as I eased it open, then breathed a sigh of relief. Another empty room. I stepped inside.
Suddenly there was a whoosh of air and something hurtling at my head. I screamed, terror spiking hard in my veins. Instinctively, I threw up my arms to cover my head. A gunshot sounded, loud and harsh, and I screamed again.
“Kathleen!”
I heard Kade before I saw him come charging in, gun drawn. He took in the room with a quick glance before focusing on me, cowering in a corner and shaking all over.
“What was that all about?” he asked, his brows drawn in confusion. “Was someone in here?”
I really didn’t want to tell him. Really, really. But I took a deep breath and blurted, “There was a bat.”
Kade just looked at me. “A bat.”
“It was big,” I protested.
“So… you shot it?”
I glanced down at the gun in my hand. “Um… yeah… I guess so. It flew at me… and I was already jumpy… and thinking of Freddy and Chucky and Jason.” I named the horror-movie villains that had terrorized me in my childhood, whose faces had run through my mind in that split second of fear.
Kade snorted in derision. “You watch too many movies.”
He held his hand out to me. “Come on. I found something, and it’s not a flying rodent.”
I put my gun away and took his hand. My palm was still sweat-slicked from my adrenaline rush, but his hand was warm and dry.
We went up one more flight of stairs to the top floor. This level was remarkably different from the others. Clean, for one thing. Someone had transformed it into a living space complete with carpet and furniture. With its exposed brick walls, it looked like an expensive loft you’d find in a nice apartment building in downtown Indy.
I followed Kade through the apartment to a far corner, which had been set up as an office workspace. Kade sat down in front of the computer and motioned to the two filing cabinets that stood nearby.
“Take a look through those,” he said, tapping the space bar on the keyboard. The monitor flickered to life and he began typing.
I started at the top of the cabinets, the first drawer sliding out easily. It was full of manila file folders. Thinking I’d found something, I rifled through them. But although there were lots of folders, they were all empty. Same thing with the drawer below it.
How odd. I searched all the drawers, but there was nothing inside any of them.
“There’s nothing here,” I finally said, turning back to Kade, who was still typing furiously.
He didn’t respond.
“Did you find anything?” I asked.
Spinning in his chair, he pinned me with a look. “Nothing. Everything’s been wiped clean.”
A loud boom! sounded from below us, and I jumped, startled. The whole building shook. My wide eyes met Kade’s.
“Well, fuck,” he said.
My reaction wasn’t quite as calm. My mouth went dry and, for a moment, I was frozen.
Kade leapt to his feet, grabbed my arm, and yanked me with him, running for the stairs. Immediately we saw that we’d have to turn around. Flames licked up the walls, eagerly consuming the wooden steps. I could feel the heat in waves.
“That’s unfortunate,” Kade said dryly.
“You think?” Panic made my voice shrill.
“Don’t be bitchy,” Kade chastened me.
I ground my teeth.
We ran back into the loft, Kade scanning the room—for what, I didn’t know. I started looking, too. Something caught my eye—a scrap of a Post-it peeking from underneath the couch. I grabbed it just as I heard the shattering of glass. Kade had thrown a chair through a window.
“We can’t jump!” I cried. “It’s at least fifty feet down!”
“Wasn’t planning on it, princess,” Kade said. “What did you see when we came inside?”
“You’re quizzing me now?” I couldn’t believe it.
He dragged me to the window. Dropping from this height was enough to kill us.
“I’ll give you a boost,” he said. “Grab onto the window frame and climb up to the roof.”
“Why are we going up?” I protested. “We need to be going down.”
“Just do it,” he ordered in a tone I dared not disobey.
Trying not to look down, I angled my body out the window. Kade grabbed my waist, hoisting me up so I could grab on to the concrete above the window. His hands moved to my rear, pushing until I popped up high enough to scrabble onto the roof. A few seconds later, he appeared next to me.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand.
We ran to the opposite corner of the roof, and I saw it. A fire escape ladder hooked to the side. Kade must have spotted it before we’d entered. He jumped down to land on the platform, then held his arms open for me. An explosion sounded behind me, and the roof above the office collapsed.
I jumped.
“Always have an escape plan, princess,” Kade said when I landed. “No time to climb down.” He grabbed me around the waist and yanked me to him. “Hold on.”
I obediently wrapped my arms around his neck.
He stepped out onto the ladder, grasped the edge, and pulled. We began sliding downward at a dizzying speed, the rusted metal groaning and clanking as the ladder unraveled after years of nonuse.
We came to a bone-jarring halt ten feet from the ground.
“Slide down,” Kade ordered. “That’ll get you closer.”
“What about you?”
“I’m tougher than you are.”
Okay, no arguing with that.
I released my death grip on his neck and began a clumsy slide down his body. His shirt was slippery and I lost my grip, yelping in dismay as it tore. I caught hold of his waist and looked up. Kade was hanging by both hands now, the muscles in his arms straining under our combined weight.
“You’re heavier than you look,” he ground out.
He was so going to pay for that remark.
I shimmied the rest of the way down, holding on to his ankle before I let myself drop the remaining few feet to the ground. Barely had I regained my balance than Kade was next to me. We ran. Moments later, Kade was flooring the SUV and we were racing away, leaving destruction in our wake.
After the complete chaos and panic of the last few minutes, the silence inside the car seemed bizarre. I looked over at Kade, who caught my eye.
“That was fun,” he said.
“That’s not the word I’d use to describe it,” I said when I finally caught my breath. “What happened?”
His grin faded and he looked back at the road. “It was a trap. A setup. Whoever went looking for information on Sheffield was going to get roasted alive. Everything was wiped clean.”
“Not completely,” I said, digging in my pocket. I unearthed the crumpled Post-it, looked it over, and handed it to Kade. “Saw that under the couch.”
“Ro
b,” Kade read. “And a phone number. Looks like you’re more than just eye candy, princess. Good catch.”
I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the seat. Suddenly, I was exhausted.
We came to a stop a short while later and I opened my eyes. We were in a parking lot. I looked around. It was a cheap motel in the middle of downtown Denver.
“Don’t you know any nicer places?” I asked.
“You’re too good for a place like this?”
I shot him a look. “Absolutely.”
Kade’s lips twisted as he turned off the engine and pocketed the keys. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
I waited while he rented a room, coming back with a key and grabbing our bags. Following him, I was relieved to see that he’d gotten a room with two beds, though I would have preferred separate rooms altogether.
“Why are we sticking around?” I asked, sitting down on one of the beds.
“I have a contact nearby,” Kade said, unbuttoning and shedding his torn shirt. “He may know more about what happened today.”
My eyes widened as his hands moved to his belt. “What are you doing?”
“Thought I’d grab a shower,” Kade said with a smirk. Care to join me?”
I jerked my gaze away, ignoring him. I heard him chuckle softly before disappearing into the bathroom.
I flopped back on the bed with a sigh, exhausted. My eyes slipped shut.
It was darker in the room when I woke, and quiet. The sun must be setting, I thought drowsily. At some point, Kade must have covered me with a blanket, the cozy warmth of my cocoon making it difficult to fully awaken.
My eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and I realized Kade was sitting in a chair by the window. He had dressed but neglected to button his shirt. He was drinking from one of the motel’s plastic cups, a bottle filled with an amber liquid at his elbow.
I watched in silence as he lifted the cup to his lips. Condensation had formed on the plastic and a drop fell to land on his bare skin. He leaned back in the chair with a sigh.
My gaze too avidly followed the droplet as it lazily trailed down his chest and disappeared under the denim waistband of his jeans.
Kade’s still-damp hair curled gently over the collar of his shirt. He lifted the cup again. I watched the movement of his throat as he swallowed.
Turning Point (The Kathleen Turner Series) Page 4