by TL Schaefer
Must be a hell of an understanding. It made me realize how little I knew about Brian Roney. “Well, know this. While I appreciate the gesture, I’ll be returning these until I can earn them on the up-and-up.”
While I didn’t give two hoots what Monica Foudy thought, I could tell she was impressed by what I said. The frost that had been between us since this morning thawed a little bit from her end. Not from mine.
With my words, Brian realized he’d taken a huge misstep, and instead of trying to justify it, he simply said, “You’ve been a tech for us longer than any of the pukes on the crew we have now. But I understand what you’re saying. I only talked to Davis because it seemed like the right thing to do.”
“I appreciate the gesture. So how much did you win?” He’d had nothing but my best interests at heart, but I’d been on my own for too long to accept something like this without my backbone stiffening up.
“Two hundred bucks,” he replied, with a small, sad smile.
“Cool, you can buy me dinner. I’ll keep the shield long enough for you to collect.” I slipped in my earbuds, tuned my iPod to Def Leppard and settled in for the ride.
By the time we reached Denver, retrieved our bags and secured a rental car, it was well into the gloaming, and even Foudy had to admit that swinging by CASI at that hour was a bad idea. She left us at the hotel registration with a dirty look that dispelled any of the happy thoughts she’d had on the plane.
Again, who was I to give a damn, really? I didn’t need her approval.
But Brian’s face, it was a study in discombobulation. After our conversation on the plane, I think he’d expected me to ask for a separate room, but instead of making it awkward, I’d bulled up to the desk first and asked for a double for him and me, and a single for Foudy.
It was hard to stifle my disappointment with both Brian and Davis. While I had no question of Roney’s motives, Davis’s were a whole ’nother story. That knowledge was the only reason I’d given myself permission to set in motion what I’d said back at the loft. If I had the nerve. Which was going south with each successive moment. While I wanted Brian—more than I’d ever wanted anyone—my stomach had cramped into a big ball of anxiety that had nothing to do with why we were here and everything to do with the man accompanying me on this fool’s mission.
We dumped our bags in the closet and parked our asses on the matching queen beds, facing each other across the narrow space.
“Look, Sara, about the shield...”
Oh God, he had a puppy-dog look on his face and probably knew very well exactly what he was doing.
“It was sweet, Brian, but I’m used to doing things my own way, all right? I don’t need to be taken care of. I’ve spent most of my life doing that myself. And don’t worry. I know it wasn’t something you did to get me into bed.”
He spluttered. There’s really no better word for it. “Of course I didn’t!”
“If you’d agreed to share a room from the get-go, I might have had my suspicions, but you saved yourself on that one.”
He still looked confused as hell. It was nice to have the upper hand for once in this relationship. And yeah, ill-fated or not, that’s exactly what this had become, at least in my mind. For better or worse.
That night, I took the coward’s way out. I won’t use the old tried-and-true excuse of not having had sex with an actual man in a while. That wasn’t it. I wanted to be sure, to know it was right. Because once Brian and I made love, it would be all over for me. The thought of it scared me down to my toes because I’d been left behind one too many times. I needed to know it wouldn’t happen again, even if it was almost a certainty. Yeah, like I said, I’m a coward.
“But...” I smiled when his look turned from bewildered to crestfallen, “I’m not ready, after only knowing you for a few days, to go there.” It was the easiest way out. One he would understand, even if it was a lie. “That doesn’t mean tomorrow won’t be a different story.” Inside, I berated myself for being so scared. It was sex, for God’s sake, not happily ever after. Yet even as I thought it, I knew that was what I yearned for. A partner who understood me, who didn’t judge, who made my heart beat in triple-time. Brian Roney fit the bill in every single qualification. So what if it couldn’t be a forever thing? I should grab on with both hands and enjoy the ride, even if I wanted so much more.
“All right,” he said, and swallowed. It was endearing. “I’ll honor my word, even if it’s killing me.”
I leaned forward and laid a hand on his cheek. I could be honest in this, at least. “You scare the living hell out of me, Brian Roney, you know that?”
He considered me for along moment, and I felt his pulse beating beneath his jaw. Then he smiled, and I was struck speechless. It was an expression of wholly male knowledge, of satisfaction, of victory.
“Is that all it is?”
I nodded mutely, my heart thumping unsteadily in my chest.
“Well, hell, I can deal with that.” He pulled my hand to his mouth and laid a gentle kiss on my palm, then on the pulse point of my wrist. Just when I thought I’d retreat from the evening relatively unscathed, his wicked tongue flicked out, teasing the thin veins in my wrist. Long, lush tastes of my skin, until I tingled from head to toe, until everything went hot and liquid inside me.
When he lifted his head, his eyes shone with mirth and more than a little deviltry. “Sweet dreams, Sara.”
I struggled to pull in a breath, to form a coherent response. Nothing came but the roar of my heartbeat in my ears, the pulsing heat in my core. He stood and began to peel his clothes away.
I stared, transfixed, as he threw his dress shirt onto the foot of the bed, then slowly, in a burlesque strip-show manner, pulled his undershirt over his head.
His chest was a thing of wonder...muscled, with a hint of hair peppering his pecs. My mouth actually watered.
And his mouth? It was drawn up into a wide-ass smile as his fingers moved to the button of his slacks. I only know because I dared a glance up before my eyes were riveted to his hands again.
He drew his zipper down slowly, revealing, of all things, red polka-dotted boxers. I grinned, and then he slid his pants down those long, long legs and I got a look at what was tenting those boxers. Damn!
I was an idiot, a coward, a freakin’ fool.
“I’m not that much of a gentleman,” he said, laughing at my back as I fled to the bathroom to change.
Chapter Eleven
Before
The kids at CASI had their own specific signatures, as everyone does, but I could see the power that arced off their unformed spirits like fireworks. Even the “calm” ones like Wes seethed and bubbled with talent now that I’d been trained to recognize it. But Wes was the strongest, and I suppose I probably was as well since we’d been singled out by Green in the very beginning. How he’d figured it out was still a mystery to me, something he wouldn’t reveal, no matter how much I antagonized him.
Amazingly enough, they left Wes and I alone for the most part now. I think we scared them, but they never made a move to separate us when we met in the loft. Not exactly bright on their part, but I didn’t think they expected us to be that smart. All I knew for sure was that I’d never, ever, forget what they’d done to both of us that first month or so. Some day very soon we’d make them pay.
After over a year here, it surprised me that I’d never met an adult like us...only kids. It wasn’t until I heard two of the orderlies talking in low whispers that I began to understand exactly how special we were.
“Green’s about shitting his pants over those two, you know?”
I recognized the first voice as the orderly who’d looked me over on my first day, so very long ago. Carl. His name was Carl. I still hated the bastard for the way he’d made me feel, but listened with interest.
“Hell, all the docs are scared spitless of them kids. You’d be an idiot not to be. They’re weird. Spooky. Always watching you, like they can see inside your head.”
�
��Don’t be too sure they can’t,” said Carl. “That Christie? She’s a freak of the first order. Gave me the chills the first time I saw her. Too bad, ’cause she’s a morsel, all that long, blonde hair.”
I shivered at the avarice in his voice, but nudged closer to the dormitory door to catch all of their words as they walked past.
“Well, all I know is that the docs keep saying this is the first class, and that there’ll be more to follow. Makes me want to go back to a regular hospital.”
“Yeah, but a regular gig doesn’t pay like this. So keep your mouth closed, and you’ll keep getting that juicy paycheck.”
So we were the first ones to go through this...the first “class”.
Now—Tuesday, 8:00 a.m.
Have I said I’m not a morning person? Well, considering that most of my dreams (when I finally slept) were unbearably erotic and centered on the man in the bed next to mine, I think it’s totally reasonable that when he woke me up, I was cranky as hell. And Brian was still in those goofy boxers. With a morning “hello to you” erection.
Did I mention that I’m a complete idiot? That could have been mine all night long, and instead I’d turned tail and run, well, metaphorically, at least.
“Coffee’s on,” Brian said in a raspy voice and leaned in for a kiss that woke up more than my brain and made me forget a momentary obsession with morning breath. By the time he pulled away, both of us were breathing hard, and I’d moved from the supine to basically hanging on his body.
“I’m going for a shower,” he said, standing upright. “A cold one, I might add.”
I closed my eyes. What in the hell was wrong with me? If I was even reasonably smart, I’d join him and annihilate the tension coiled in my body in the best way possible. It was just sex, dammit.
His finger at my chin brought my eyes open. To stare at his naked chest. Damn. He tipped my face up. “It’s okay, Sara. Really, it is. Well, my palm and I will be really, really well acquainted, but you know what I mean.”
I dipped my head in shame. Where was the brave Sara who’d not only survived CASI, but managed to carve out a pretty good life? Who was this weak bitch who couldn’t make up her own mind?
Brian’s hand feathered over my hair. “When it’s right, okay?” Then he was gone, striding for the bathroom, and God help me, I lifted my eyes enough to stare at his exceedingly well-toned ass as he walked.
He cast a glance over his shoulder before he stepped through the door, caught my ogling and grinned. When the shower started, I heard him begin to whistle.
Foudy met us in the lobby, her expression foul. In her hand she held a piece of paper. I knew what it was without even looking.
“Recognize him?” she said, no “good morning” in evidence. Then she took a real look at us and started to smile. Hugely. Apparently sexual frustration leaves a mark.
I dropped my eyes to the printout she held—a fax from Dallas. Roney leaned over my shoulder as I scanned it, breath teasing my cheek.
Focusing took an effort, but the sketch artist’s drawing from Amy’s description was clear. It was Wes, all grown up.
“That’s him,” I said, thrusting the paper back at Foudy. “Why he let her get a good look at him worries me.”
“You’ll like this even less, Wonder Girl.” Foudy held out another piece of paper, this one very official looking, color and all. “Scared the crap out of me.”
She continued talking as I scanned the readout.
“I had the guys at my division run a facial-recognition program. It’s a whiz-bang thing, and I figured it was worth a shot after what you said about him being on the inside. Turns out we didn’t need it. My chief recognized him right off the bat.”
I didn’t need her to say the words, but she did anyway. “He’s the profiler we called in. On his own crime. He’s FBI.”
Jesus. That’s how he’d known about me. He must have seen me in the bullpen. How could he have been so close without me realizing it?
“So we weren’t far off in thinking the government was in on this. And he kept his own name.” Brian mused, seemingly nonplussed.
I wished I could be so calm. Wes was FB-freakin’-I? And we’d been in the same room at one time or another. I closed my eyes and pictured the day I’d been fired in detail. I’d been so pissed off at Hiram and Davis a bomb could have gone off and I probably wouldn’t have noticed.
Monica echoed my earlier thoughts, but in a less-than-PG rating. “How can you be so fucking serene? We’re dealing with a spook here, and if Wonder Girl was on the up-and-up, one who can anticipate everything we do.”
“It’s what they trained us to do,” I said, my voice small. “Like I told you, I thought he was dead, but this...” I waved my free hand at the Bureau profile that had obviously been printed here in the hotel. “I never imagined they’d take him this far.”
“Can you separate yourself from this, Sara?” Brian’s voice broke through the stupor that had begun to fog my brain.
I started and looked up at him. “Huh?”
“This is your friend, maybe the only one you had at CASI, and now he’s offing folks with an agenda that’s still as nebulous as ever. Can you help us, or should we send you home?” His words were sharp, but the tone behind them soft.
God, if only he knew how close Wes and I had been. But in the here and now, I realized what he was really asking me. Could I be a cop rather than a civilian?
To give myself a bit of credit, I thought hard before answering, glancing down at Wes’s color headshot, which I’d clenched between both fists. And then I told them the truth.
“Yes. If he’d been killing pedophiles or rapists or murderers, it might be a different story, but these people weren’t anything like that. What he did is wrong.” I took a deep breath, and when I spoke, my voice was sure, thank God. “When we catch him, we’ll need to do a sweep of major cities and their unsolved crimes. He didn’t start in Dallas. He’s refined his art, even if he was trained as a Fed. We can probably link a host of unsolved murders to him. And we won’t have to look any further than his chessboard. That’s his game, and I’ll wager he’s done it as a ‘screw you’ to not only the cops, but to CASI as well with each kill. Same thing with leaving the bodies naked. He wanted to make a splash, a statement.”
I dared to pull my eyes from my hands to Brian and Foudy. Brian’s mouth was crooked up into a half-smile of pride, while Monica merely looked at me, as if considering whether I was being straight with them or not.
“This didn’t go to the Feds, did it?” I asked Foudy, holding my breath.
“No,” she answered slowly, still eyeballing me like I was a particularly fantastic species. “Like I said, my chief recognized him from the get-go off the sketch. He’s keeping it close to the vest because of the possible ramifications. But he won’t for long. He can’t.”
“Let’s hope he does for a little bit longer,” I breathed. “Because if Wes’s supervisors or anyone in his chain of command know we’re looking at him, it’s all over. He’s been trained and recruited for a specific purpose, and if they know it’s under scrutiny, they’ll make him disappear—kill him or send him so deep we’ll never find him until he wants us to.” I hesitated before adding, “Providing he’s working on their behalf. Or CASI’s.” That admission pained me more than it should have. But I wanted to cover all the bases, even if I didn’t believe in them.
“You seem to know an awful lot about the Feds,” Monica said, still giving me that under-the-microscope glare. “And who’s to say they know anything about his special abilities? Maybe he’s kept this on the down-low all this time.”
“I watch TV and movies, okay? Does X-Files spring to mind? ’Cause you can’t tell me this doesn’t parallel that spookily. I know what these people are capable of. There’s no way they don’t know. I called Dr. Green on the military end of it, and he couldn’t deny it. If it’s made it to the military, you can bet the FBI is in on it too. And don’t underestimate the people from CASI. They stal
ked me through Denver until I escaped. They were ready to kill me rather than let me go.” I paused and stared hard at her. “Are you getting this, Foudy? This isn’t something I made up in my own little mind. It’s real, and we need to decide if we want to keep chasing it, ’cause in my experience, it might just get us dead.”
Both she and Brian were silent for so long I thought I might be boarding a plane back to Dallas.
Then Brian nixed that concept. “Hell no. He’s killed innocents. The rest of it is a complication, but we’ll get him, and CASI, if what you’re saying turns out to be the truth.” He said it with such confidence that I had to believe him.
“So what do we do now?” I asked, fully aware that Foudy hadn’t weighed in yet.
“We head out to CASI, ask some innocent questions. But Sara, our number one priority has to be Burke, not CASI. For now at least.”
As I sat in the backseat of the rental Taurus, I had to wonder why Davis hadn’t called me on the carpet about my prior relationship with Wes. He had to have heard the tapes of the phone calls, had to have seen the letter. So why was I sitting here, free as you please, rolling toward my worst nightmare? And how much would I be pushing my luck by asking my two companions?
Hell, it was better to make sure everything was up front, right? So I asked.
Brian answered, his gaze flicking from the road to the rearview mirror, meeting my eyes. “Because Davis wasn’t all that surprised when I told him you were psychic, that’s why. Said he’d kind of figured something along those lines. He’s poker buddies with Monica’s chief, so we’re okay on that end. You did want to continue going with the psychic front for everyone but Monica and me, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” I sank back into the seat, confounded on a whole different level. Shouldn’t I have “seen” Davis’s thoughts about me? True, I’d made it a point not to read him, but shouldn’t I have figured it out somehow? Something wasn’t right here, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. And I was too overwhelmed to even begin to try. CASI was at the forefront in my thoughts. It had to be... Davis and whatever agenda he had were secondary. If it came back to bite me in the butt, so be it. A girl had to have priorities, after all.