“Maybe. He’s been walking the perimeter, but not coming through that area. Unless he did it and I didn’t see him.” She moved and pointed to the edge of the house. “See those prints? Those are Trent’s.” She pointed to the others. “See those? Those aren’t. At least I don’t think they are.”
He spotted the deputy’s Ford Interceptor, a vehicle that was twin to the one Lance drove, but couldn’t tell if he was in it or not. This time when he leaned forward, kissing her wasn’t on his mind. Protection was. “Stay here.”
“Lance—”
“If Sam decides he wants you, you need to be here. Just stay put and let me do my job. Please.”
Her nostrils flared and he thought she might ignore him, but she shot a glance in the direction of the bedroom then nodded. “I’ll make sure no one gets in the house.”
“Good.”
He grabbed his coat, hat, scarf and glove for his left hand. Within seconds he was ready. With another glance out the window, he twisted the knob on the front door then slipped outside to step on the porch. He pulled the door shut behind him and simply listened while his eyes moved from one white-covered bush to the next. The trees swayed in the wind, snow falling from their branches to add to the foot already on the ground. It was warmer today, but as soon as the sun disappeared, the wet stuff would freeze all over again.
Lance liked the fact that his back was to the house, but in order to check out the footprints, he needed to move. He waved at the SUV cruiser, but didn’t see Trent in the driver’s seat.
Amber hadn’t wanted anyone to know she was here, but he knew Clay had asked Trent Haywood to keep an eye on the place. Trent was trustworthy and could keep his mouth shut. He kept to himself and did his job. Something Lance appreciated very much. So where was he? There were no footsteps leading from the driver’s side of the vehicle—at least none that he could see. Had he gotten out of the passenger side for some reason?
He walked down the steps, ignoring the ankle-deep snow. He focused on the footprints and saw that they led around the side of the house. Adrenaline rushed through his veins and his heart pounded, but he kept his movements slow and calculated, not wanting to move fast and miss something. Unfortunately, he might be making himself a target.
The wind whistled in the trees and tried to get under the scarf he’d wrapped around his neck. In his right hand, he held his weapon. The hand was bare now and would grow cold quickly, but the bulky glove would interfere with how he handled the gun. Lance had always loved the Tennessee mountain winters, even as a small child. But right now, he’d be mighty happy for sunshine and temps in the eighties.
However, he’d work with the snow, do what he had to do to keep Sam and Amber safe.
Where was Trent?
Lance, weapon held ready, rounded the corner of the house. When he saw nothing, his pulse slowed slightly.
The footsteps continued to the back porch. Lance slipped in between the bushes and pressed his back up against the house. He looked the length of his home and saw nothing but snow. Keeping his back against the house, Lance kept moving parallel to the bushes and to the footprints. Where had the person gone? He glanced at his phone. No bars, no signal. The remote location of the ranch and spotty cell service had never bothered him much before. But now he was wishing he’d invested in a satellite phone.
If wishes were nickels...
While his mind spun, his eyes never stopped moving, trying to see through bushes and trees. His ears strained to hear any sound that shouldn’t be there.
And got nothing. Nothing to alarm him, nothing to say that he wasn’t perfectly safe.
Except the footprints that shouldn’t be there.
He scanned the tree line again, then the wide-open field to the right. He pushed away from the house and followed the footsteps to the back deck. A chill that had nothing to do with the weather swept over him. Once on the deck, there was nowhere to go but in the house. He picked up the pace a bit and stood back to look at the deck. Empty. Had the person found his way inside? No. Lance would have heard something. Amber would have signaled him somehow. So what—
He heard the swish behind him and he whirled.
Blinding pain shot through the side of his head and he spun, stars dancing in front of his eyes to see a white-clad figure bolting down the steps and heading for the tree line. Lance pressed his gloved hand to the wound and lifted his weapon. “Police! Freeze!”
The person ignored him and continued to race for the trees. Lance ran after him, his head throbbing, but not bad enough to hold him back. Since Lance had been in midturn, the blow hadn’t landed as hard as it could have. And he didn’t think the skin had been broken as he felt no blood dripping. The person had blended in nicely with his white storage locker on the deck. He’d have to remember that little hiding place.
His attacker arrived at the edge of the trees and stopped abruptly. His hands went in the air and he started backing up. Lance slowed, his breaths making puffs of smoke in the cold air while his head pounded in time with his heartbeat. Trent stepped out from behind one of the trees, weapon drawn and aimed at the person. “Keep your hands where I can see them. It would be a shame to mess up that nice white suit with a red stain,” Trent said.
Lance huffed out another breath. “Great timing.”
“Yeah. I thought I saw something and decided to see what I could find. He was watching me, trying to be sneaky.”
“So that’s why you went out the passenger side?”
“Yeah. Didn’t want to leave any tracks where he could see them.”
Lance walked up to the now-still figure and lifted a hand to pull the white mask from his face. A hand whipped out and caught him in the cheek. Pain ricocheted through him. A cry slipped out. With a growl of rage, he dove for the person and slammed him into the snow. Lance had a tight grip on the attacker’s left hand while he drew back the other to land a hard blow on the white-covered face. The figure went still and Lance rolled to the left.
With his right hand, he grabbed the white ski mask and yanked it off. Long dark hair spilled on the snow and Lance jerked back with a gasp. He was a she. Her eyes were closed and she lay still. A bruise was starting to form underneath her eye where he’d hit her. He lifted his gaze to meet Trent’s stunned one. “It’s a woman,” Trent said.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Lance muttered. “Give me your cuffs, will you?”
Trent slid them from their spot on his belt and tossed them to Lance. His gun never wavered from the woman on the snow. Lance grabbed her upper arm and started to flip her over when she burst to life once again. Her fist lashed out and caught him in the eye. She kicked out and slammed her heel into the back of his knee. Lance went down, rolled and lunged toward her.
He stopped when he saw the gun in her hand. His gaze snapped to Trent who held his gun ready, but couldn’t shoot without hitting Lance. She’d maneuvered him between her and Trent. Panting, Lance lay on the ground and stared up at her. “Tell your officer to drop his weapon,” she said softly. The quiet lethal tone in her voice made Lance hesitate more so than the gun that she held. He shot a look at Trent who stood still. When he looked back at his attacker, her gaze never wavered. “I’ll shoot you where you are if you like.”
Her cold gray eyes said she was serious. Lance nodded to Trent whose jaw tightened. The deputy’s light blue eyes narrowed and he didn’t move to comply. “Does he really think I won’t do it?” she asked Lance as though they sat across from each other in a café.
Lance touched his aching eye. He and his attacker would have matching shiners. “Lady, we don’t know you. Neither one of us know what you would or wouldn’t do.”
“But I do,” Amber said. Lance stiffened and turned his head to see Amber standing on the back deck with her gun trained on the woman. “Put your weapon down, Kat,” Amber said, “you’re not going to shoot
anyone today.”
Kat’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he hoped Amber knew the woman better than he did because as far as he could tell, she was ready to put a bullet in his brain.
“Are you all right?” Kat asked Amber without bothering to follow Amber’s order to put the gun down.
“I’m fine, no thanks to you.” The frigid coldness in Amber’s voice said she wasn’t happy to see the woman with the weapon. That coldness seeped into his bones and he shivered. “How did you find me?” Amber demanded.
“It was very simple really. I expected better of you.”
“What made you turn traitor, Kat? Money? How much are they paying you to kill a little boy?”
Lance caught the brief flash of confusion in Kat’s eyes. She spared a flicker of a glance at Amber before turning back to him. When she spoke, she addressed Amber even though her gaze drilled holes into him. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who turned traitor. You killed your asset—the company’s asset—and kidnapped her child. I’m here to take you in.”
Silence. Lance swung his gaze to Amber’s stunned features. Kat shot another glance at her as well before coming back to him. “What?” Amber’s whisper ricocheted in the air. “Who told you that?”
Kat slowly turned her head toward Amber, but Lance didn’t move. He had a feeling the woman wouldn’t have to look at him to shoot him. He had no desire to find out. “It’s not true, is it?” Kat asked.
“Of course it’s not true. Don’t tell me you actually believed it?”
In one smooth move, Kat slid her weapon out of sight underneath her white suit. Trent started toward her but Amber held up a hand. The hand that didn’t hold the gun. “Don’t, Trent.” She lowered the weapon and motioned for Kat to come inside. “I want to hear what she has to say.”
Lance rolled to his feet and glared at Kat. “Who are you?”
He heard Amber sigh. “Lance, Meet Kathryn Petrov, my handler.”
TEN
Amber’s nerves were shot but she kept them under control even as she held her weapon with the full intention of using it should it come down to who lived and who died. There was no way she was letting Kat hurt Lance, Trent or Sam—or anyone else for that matter.
When Kat stepped inside, Amber placed herself between the back of the house where Sam was and the woman she’d once trusted with her life. “Why are you accusing me of killing Nadia? What would even put that possibility on your radar?”
Kat stood with her back against the wall. She lifted a hand to touch her bruised cheek and shot a glare at Lance. Lance simply held her stare until she scowled and looked back at Amber. “Before I get into that, tell me why you went dark?”
Amber held Kat’s gaze. “My cover was blown.”
Silence fell between them then Kat gave a slow nod. “And you think I had something to do with it.”
“Who else knew what I was doing? Where I was?”
Kat frowned. “Director Gideon.” She shook her head. “And me. That’s it.”
“Then how did Yousef Pirhadi find out who I was?”
“I don’t know.” Her subdued tone bothered Amber. She wanted to believe Kat hadn’t turned against her, been bought by Pirhadi, but she was a well-trained liar. Kat must have sensed her thoughts. She sighed and dropped her rigid stance. “Look, I found you through the vehicle. As soon as the search came back on Vivian Watson from this area, I knew you’d come home.”
Amber nodded. “I thought you might.”
“I was actually surprised to find you still around.”
“I wasn’t planning to be, but plans don’t always work the way you want them to. So update me and I’ll decide if I believe you or not.”
“The night Nadia died, Yousef Pirhadi called the cops.”
A chill invaded her and she gripped her weapon. “You can stop right there. I don’t believe you. Pirhadi would never do that.”
Kat ran a hand through her hair and met Amber’s eyes, her gaze intense. “But he did and I can show you the police report. He claims he saw you shoot Nadia and that you kidnapped Sam. He demanded they find you immediately and get his son back. It’s all over the news.”
Lance crossed the room and snagged the remote from the coffee table and pointed it at the television. It came to life and he flipped the channel to national news. “We’ll let it play for now and see if they say anything else.”
“Great,” Amber whispered. “If what you say is true, then Yousef must be desperate. He hates the cops. I can’t believe he’d open his home to them, not even to investigate a crime scene.”
“He didn’t.”
“What? He shot her in his office. In order to investigate it, they’d have to be in his house.”
“She was found in her car. He’s saying she was shot as she was leaving. Her body was in the driver’s seat. There was blood spatter everywhere like she’d been shot. I saw the crime scene photos myself.”
Amber stood still and let her brain process the information. “He faked it. Somehow.”
“How many times was she shot?”
Amber frowned. “How many times? Once. A shot right to the back of her head as she was walking out of his office. She saw me in the doorway and walked toward me. When she passed him, he just pulled a gun from his pocket, lifted it to her head—and pulled the trigger.” The memory flared, triggering the shock and horror of the moment. Amber closed her eyes and breathed deep.
“According to the police report, Nadia was shot twice,” Kat said.
Amber blinked and forced the images from her mind that wanted to replay over and over. “So he moved her body and shot her again after he posed her in the car.” Sickness rolled through her. She knew her friend was in heaven, and while that helped, she still wanted justice for Nadia. She wanted Yousef Pirhadi behind bars for the rest of his life.
“Yeah, that’s what it’s looking like.”
Amber looked at Trent and Lance who’d been surprisingly quiet throughout the conversation. Trent caught her questioning gaze. “Nothing about the kidnapping yet,” Trent said. “Are you sure?”
Kat shrugged. “If everything happened as you said it did, Amber, it won’t be long before the cops figure out it was a setup.”
“He had to know he couldn’t fool forensics,” Lance said.
“No,” Amber said, “you don’t understand Yousef Pirhadi. He didn’t think he could fool them, but he was probably counting on the fact that I would be captured and his son returned to him before they figured out exactly what happened to Nadia. You know how long an investigation can take and all the steps they have to follow. Yousef was probably thinking he’d be on his private plane with Sam and headed home to Ibirizstan. Where he could kill Sam without any repercussions.” The words left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“It could be what you say. That he’s buying himself time to get Sam and get away.”
“So you believe me?”
Kat rubbed a hand down her bruised cheek. “Yeah. I do. I never really believed you could do what they’re saying you did, but I had to know for sure.” Her handler’s eyes met Amber’s. “Do you believe I didn’t have anything to do with blowing your cover?”
Amber sighed. Did she? “I want to. But I don’t have any idea who else it could have been. Do you have any thoughts on that?”
Kat shook her head. Her frown seemed permanently entrenched on her face. Footsteps in the hall had Kat reaching for her weapon. “Don’t,” Amber said. “It’s just Sam.”
She turned to see the little boy go into the kitchen and stand in front of the refrigerator. In Lance’s open concept home, she had a good view. She started to go to him, but Lance touched her arm. “I’ve got him.”
“Thanks.”
He walked over to the refrigerator and Amber heard him murmuring to Sam. She looked
at Kat who frowned. “That’s Sam?” Kat asked.
“That’s Sam,” Amber said. How much should she tell Kat? She was almost certain the woman had nothing to do with blowing her cover, but how could she be sure? She might be willing to risk her safety, but she wasn’t willing to risk Sam’s.
“Tell me, Amber, I’m not the one who betrayed you.”
And there it was. She’d been waiting to hear that tone. Her friend’s husky voice was her “tell” and Amber relaxed a fraction. Whenever Kat was telling the truth, her voice eventually lowered slightly. She didn’t do it all the time, but Amber knew if she let her continue talking, if Kat was telling the truth, it would happen eventually. Amber had never let on that she knew about the tell, so she didn’t see how Kat would be faking it now.
Slightly reassured, she said, “He knows something, Kat, something he’s trying to communicate and can’t quite get the right words out. He had come home from school and was watching a video and I went to the bathroom. When I returned, he was gone. I went looking for him and found him in his father’s office looking at the files on his desk. Notations on a piece of paper caught his attention and I had a hard time dragging him away, but Yousef was home and heading for his office. I didn’t want him walking in on Sam and I didn’t have a chance to look at what was on the desk. I barely got Sam out in time. I told Nadia what had happened and she said she’d see if she could get a look at what Sam had seen.”
“And Yousef found her.”
Amber nodded, her throat growing tight with grief. She cleared it. “Yes. Sam went looking for her and I followed him just in time to see Yousef confront her. She gave him an excuse for being there and at first he seemed to buy it so I backed up a little. I didn’t want to interfere if I didn’t have to. And then as Nadia was walking out of the office, he simply lifted his arm and shot her in the back of the head.” She closed her eyes against the surge of memories. “I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything. Yousef immediately turned and went to his desk to get his phone. When Nadia fell, Sam went to her and stood there looking down at her. He started spouting numbers but I can’t even remember what he was saying. Yousef’s face went bloodred when he turned and saw us there. He fired and hit the door frame. I pulled Sam into the hallway and waited for Yousef to come around the corner then I hit him in the throat. He went down, I grabbed Sam, the car keys and we ran.”
Classified Christmas Mission Page 9