Undercover Protector

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Undercover Protector Page 21

by Melinda Di Lorenzo


  “Did it matter? They let Tyler go because there wasn’t enough evidence to make a charge stick. But his life was destroyed. He knew what really happened, and he couldn’t do anything about it.”

  “Your brother had other issues, though, sweetheart. You know that.”

  “But I’m not without issue myself.”

  “Only in the same way that none of us are.”

  “Do you want to know another of the reasons I stayed away from Whispering Woods all those years, Anderson? Something I’ve never admitted aloud?” She paused, drew in another breath as he nodded, and then she said in a soft voice, “It was doubt.”

  “About what?”

  “Myself. About people’s reactions to me. About who would know about my memory loss and my dad’s death. Would they think I knew something else? Would they accept a story that I didn’t even believe myself? Don’t get me wrong. I’m confident in who I am, but with my history, I was honestly surprised when they offered me the job at Whispering Woods Elementary.”

  He started to respond, but she put up a hand before he could actually speak.

  “Garibaldi created that history. And his way of doing it was insidious. Just like this. So I’m damned sure that he’s trying to make it happen again.” She stopped for a second, her emotions running through her fiercely. “And I won’t let him.”

  Anderson stepped forward, letting the jacket drop as he reached for her face with both of his hands. He planted a kiss onto her mouth. For a second, she let him linger there. His lips were warm and firm and reassuringly concrete in the otherwise unpredictable situation. Then she pulled back and straightened her shoulders.

  “I’m ready to go back to being a schoolteacher,” she said.

  Anderson reached for her again—this time to grab her hand. “Just a schoolteacher?”

  She frowned. “There’s nothing ‘just’ about being a schoolteacher. I mean, I know it’s not crime fighting and running for my life, but—”

  “That’s not what I meant.” His thumb ran over her fingers.

  “What did you—Oh.” She felt her face warm as she clued in.

  She looked down. He was holding her left hand. And he wasn’t just running her thumb over her fingers—he was rubbing it over a specific finger. She lifted her gaze again. Anderson was wearing a face-splitting grin.

  “No pressure,” he said.

  “No pressure,” she repeated dubiously.

  He shrugged. “Okay. Some pressure. But I’m willing to hold off until after you’ve unveiled your secret plan.”

  Nadine exhaled, but the excited beat of her heart didn’t slow even when she turned her attention back to the shed door.

  Marriage.

  Two days ago, she’d been lying in a hospital bed, afraid for her life but seething at the fact that the big, blond detective felt it was his job to babysit her. Now she was having a hard time even thinking about a life that didn’t involve him.

  But getting married...

  It was crazy.

  And yet so very right.

  “You going to open that door or just stand there staring at it?” Anderson’s voice made her jump, and she flushed all over again.

  “I’m opening it.” She shook off the tingle in her ring finger and yanked the wooden handle.

  The door creaked open, and a blast of odd scents assaulted her nose. Mustiness. Gasoline. Dirt. And a few other things that were unidentifiable.

  Nadine pointed into the dark. “There it is.”

  Anderson leaned over her shoulder. “There what is? All I see is a sheet-covered blob.”

  Nadine swung the door as wide as it would go. The stormy sky didn’t do much to illuminate the interior of the shed, but it seemed to give Anderson enough to discern what it was that hid under the large piece of fabric.

  “Is that an ATV?” he asked.

  Nadine nodded. “When these cabins were in their prime, the old owners had a little fleet of them for their guests. I think this is the only one left.”

  “How did you know it was here?”

  “From when I was stalking Brayden and Reggie. I did a pretty thorough search of the property.”

  Anderson chuckled. “Normally I discourage illegal behavior. But right now, I’m thankful for your law-breaking ways.”

  “Do you think it’ll work?”

  “That’ll depend on how well it was stored. But lucky for us, my stepdad’s a mechanic and taught me a thing or two.”

  She gestured forward. “Well, have at it, then, Detective.”

  He was already moving, muttering about the relative dampness in the dim space. His tone turned more hopeful, though, as he yanked off the cloth and began examining the off-road vehicle. Nadine didn’t understand any of the technical jargon, but what she could decipher was that someone had done things right. The ATV’s battery was stored separately, the tank left empty. A well-sealed can of gasoline awaited use, and, miraculously—except for a small amount of rust—the vehicle had no damage. So in what seemed like just a few minutes, Anderson had the thing out in the rain with the engine not exactly humming, but at least sounding like it stood a good chance of carrying them the required distance.

  “No helmets, though,” he complained.

  “Don’t worry,” Nadine replied. “I’m an excellent driver.”

  “You want me to be your passenger?”

  “Do you have a lot of off-road, all-terrain-driving experience?”

  “None.”

  “And do you know the backwoods way from here into town?”

  “I think you’re aware that I don’t.”

  “So, I reiterate. I’m an excellent driver.” She smiled sweetly. “And I’m ready whenever you are.”

  He shot her a suitably dirty look, but less than five minutes later, he was positioned behind her as the rumbling machine propelled them through the dense, wet forest.

  * * *

  As the trees whipped by, the rain tapered off to a light drizzle, and Anderson found himself actually enjoying the wild ride. Nadine’s claim of expertise was more than a boast—she navigated the woods like a pro, slowing in anticipation of any particularly large bumps in the terrain, avoiding low-hanging branches and somehow managing to avoid the slick mud that dotted the forest floor. Anderson caught sight of the odd flash of colored metal tacked against the surrounding trees, and he knew that at some point the path Nadine had chosen must’ve been a marked trail. And recognizing that fact clued him in to something else. He hadn’t even asked her where, specifically, she was taking him. Back to town was obvious. The ultimate goal of getting to the underground storage facility was also a given. Beyond that—between those two things—he had no clue. It was an unnerving realization.

  Reckless, he chastised himself, his grip tightening unconsciously on Nadine’s waist.

  He was supposed to be in charge. Not because she wasn’t competent but because Anderson was the cop. The one sworn to protect and serve. The one with the training. Yes, the woman nestled against him was smart and capable. She’d proved her abilities time and again over the last two days. That didn’t mean she’d spent years training like he had. Anderson rarely even trusted his fellow detectives to just lead the way and they had just as much experience as he did. More, sometimes. There were only three other people he followed blindly, whom he trusted so utterly that he didn’t need an explanation.

  Brayden, Harley and Rush.

  Anderson blinked, and it wasn’t because the rain was making him do it. It was because he trusted Nadine so very thoroughly. As much as the men that he thought of as brothers. The men who’d gone through the same loss he’d gone through, and who had proved, time and again, that the trust was well deserved and reciprocal.

  His hold on her tightened again, this time purposely. Somehow, the explicit trust seemed more meaningful than the love at—almost—firs
t sight. It was one thing to fall head over heels in time of high tension. That had been easy. Nadine was everything Anderson wanted in a woman. She was even things he hadn’t known he wanted. Beautiful and tough. Unique. Somehow worldly but still unjaded. She made his heart ache.

  But this level of trust... It’s more than that. It’s like...what?

  Anderson tried to think of an appropriate comparison. The nearest he could come up with was that it was like knowing you’d take a bullet for someone, then realizing that they’d do the same for you. It wasn’t a great comparison—not hearts and rainbows like it ought to be. But somehow it was most fitting anyway.

  “You okay?”

  Nadine’s voice cut over the hum of the engine and jolted him back to the moment, and he saw that they’d slowed down and were approaching a thinner patch of trees.

  “I’m good,” he replied, then chuckled a little to himself as he realized it was the grossest understatement he’d ever made.

  He was still smiling a few moments later when Nadine brought the ATV to a halt. Without waiting for her to turn off the machine, Anderson swung himself off the ATV, planted himself firmly on the ground and turned to face her. Her eyes widened with surprise as he clasped her face in his hands.

  “I’m crazy about you, Nadine,” he said, unsurprised that the words came out in a gruff, emotion-fueled growl.

  Her eyes grew even wider, and her response was a little breathy. “I thought we’d already established that the feeling is mutual.”

  “Mutual,” he repeated, thinking of his own take-a-bullet analogy just a few minutes earlier.

  “Yes.”

  “Mutual’s good.” He tugged her closer and dropped a swift, hard kiss to her mouth. “So long as your ‘mutual’ includes an over-the-top, lifetime-of-happiness, heart-racing, permanent kind of deal.”

  She reached up and brushed away a piece of hair that had stuck to his forehead. Her touch was gentle—but not hesitant—and imbued with the same longing he felt coursing through his veins.

  Her next words confirmed it. “Of course it does, Anderson.”

  “I want you to meet my family.”

  “Okay.”

  “And get to know the guys.”

  “All right.”

  “And to pick out place settings with me.”

  “Place settings?”

  “Yep. Fancy ones that we keep in a glass-fronted cabinet.”

  “Well...if that’s what you want...”

  “It is.”

  “Okay.”

  He let out a breath and kissed her once more. “Good. Now that that’s settled, maybe you can tell me where the hell we are.”

  She laughed and turned to cut the engine. “We’re exactly where you wanted to be. Or almost, anyway.” She pointed through the trees. “A two-minute walk will take us to the road that leads up to the movie theater.”

  “The theater?” He frowned for a second before he remembered. “Oh. The one where you took Reggie. It doubles as an entry point for the tunnel to Garibaldi’s art room.”

  “That’s the one,” she confirmed. “Ready?”

  “I feel like it’s my job to ask you that question.”

  “You can, if you think it’s really necessary.”

  He grinned. “Ready?”

  She lifted an eyebrow, then turned back to the ATV, lifted the lid off the small storage compartment at the rear and dragged out a canvas bag from inside. Anderson had stowed the bag himself—a safe, dry place for his electronics and weapons. Nadine left the latter in the bag, but pulled out both Anderson’s service gun and the one Brayden had stored in the cabin. She handed the first to him and tucked the other in the rear of her waistband.

  “Now I’m ready,” she announced. “Let’s go.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  She rolled her eyes but started to walk, leading the way along the edge of the woods. Within a few steps, nervous tension threatened to take over. They were headed straight into the mouth of the beast, and Anderson had a sudden need to hold on to what small amount of lightness he could. When they reached the edge of the road and stopped just in view of the theater, he took her by the elbow and pulled her to a stop.

  “Hey, honey?” he said.

  “Yes?”

  “You really do know how to fire it, right?”

  “You’re doubting me? Even after I so easily disarmed you back there?”

  “Easily?”

  She paused to send him a look that made him lift his hands.

  “All right, all right,” he conceded. “You can obviously hit a moving target from a hundred yards away. Possibly blindfolded. While hopping up and down on one leg.”

  Her mouth tipped up in a smile, then opened like she was going to say something. Except she froze without uttering a word, and her eyes fixed on something just over his shoulder. It took Anderson only a second to figure out what it was. First came the telltale click of a cocking gun. Then came the press of cool metal against the back of his head. And, finally, a voice that was even colder than the barrel of the gun.

  “Maybe she can do all of that. But what about risking a shot at a man who could kill you with one slip of his finger. Can she pull that off, too?”

  Chapter 19

  A sick, light-headed feeling hit Nadine like a punch. She pressed her hand to her stomach in an attempt to control it, but all that happened was a shift in the positioning of the sickness. It moved from her gut to her head, making her sway with dizziness. And yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the source of it. Because she recognized the man who stood just behind Anderson, and not just because he was the one who’d burned down her mom’s apartment or because she’d seen him again through the slats of the closet at Whispering Woods Lodge. No. Something about the way he stood where he was, about the way he studied her face with clinical detachment, threw her back a decade. And as his mouth moved, she didn’t hear what he said in that very moment. Instead, she heard the words he’d spoken to her years earlier as he’d stood beside her hospital bed.

  “There’s been a mistake, Ms. Stuart,” he said.

  “A mistake?” Her voice was a croak brought on by smoke inhalation.

  “Dr. Dhillon thought you’d been in a fire. She was wrong.”

  “What?”

  “It was a car accident, Ms. Stuart. Do you remember it?”

  “Where’s Dr. Dhillon?”

  “She’s no longer with us.”

  The words had an ominous undertone. Puzzled and scared, Nadine struggled to sit up, but her body was bound by tubes and blankets and gauze, and after a second, she let herself flop backward again.

  “I was in a fire,” she said.

  The doctor shook his head. “No, you weren’t. Do you remember?”

  “I don’t remember anything.”

  “Not a thing?”

  “No.”

  He looked satisfied, and for some reason his expression made her want to shiver. After all, shouldn’t a doctor want her memory to work? Shouldn’t he be rooting for her recovery? She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, he was gone. But the disturbed feeling stayed with her.

  And here it was again. Here he was again. The same satisfied look on his face.

  “You recognize me now, don’t you?” he said.

  “Dr. Salinger.” She wished her voice had come out stronger—as it was, the quality was so raspy that she might as well have just inhaled a mouthful of ash all over again.

  “You know him?” Anderson sounded genuinely surprised.

  Nadine nodded. “He was my main doctor when I was at the hospital in Freemont. The one who told everyone I got my injuries in a car accident.”

  Both of the big detective’s eyebrows lifted, but the doctor didn’t give him a chance to respond. Instead, he spoke quickly and kept
his eyes trained on Nadine.

  “Tell me something, Ms. Stuart. Anything else come back to you recently? Inquiring minds want to know.”

  Her head swam again. Phantom smoke filled her senses, and she felt herself teetering into a memory that she’d always been sure would never come back. And now that it sat on the edge of her consciousness, she didn’t want to embrace it.

  Not yet, urged a voice in her head.

  She drew a breath, trying to force her mind to steady itself. She glanced toward Anderson. He was her rock. Her anchor.

  “Drop your gun,” the other man commanded, jerking Nadine’s attention away again.

  She eyed the weapon in his hands, and she loosened her grip on her own gun.

  Reading her intentions perfectly but without hazarding a move, Anderson spoke up again. “Do not drop it, Nadine. Shoot him instead.”

  “She won’t do that.” Dr. Salinger sounded utterly sure. “Look at her face. She cares far too much about what might happen to her boyfriend. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

  Her hand wavered. She could shoot. Or disarm him. She knew she was capable of either. But the doctor was right; she couldn’t—wouldn’t—risk Anderson’s life. She’d find another way.

  “I’m sorry, Anderson,” she said, and she tossed the gun to an open space beside them.

  “Good girl.” The doctor made the satisfied face again. “Now I need you to hand over whatever it is that you’re using to blackmail my friend.”

  “Your friend?” Anderson scoffed.

  “Don’t bother,” Dr. Salinger said back. “We both know who I’m talking about. No need to dig myself a hole by announcing it aloud.”

  “I’m just surprised to hear you call him your ‘friend,’” Anderson replied. “I would’ve assumed the word ‘boss’ to be more applicable.”

  Nadine noted the way the doctor stiffened as he answered.

  “Doing someone in his position a favor doesn’t make me an employee,” he said through nearly clenched teeth.

  “No?” Anderson’s reply was infused with disparagement.

  Why is he goading him on while he’s got a gun to his head? Nadine wondered.

 

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