Hunted (FBI Heat Book 1)

by Marissa Garner

  “Good. A healthy dose of nerves keeps you on your toes. Are you concerned about the raids on Thursday?”

  “Yes. I-I’m scared someone… you… might get hurt.” She gulped.

  “Understood. Are you afraid Jeremy is about to strike?”

  “Always.”

  Braking at a traffic light, he turned to look at her. “But you’re committed to letting me help you get rid of him, right?”

  “Yes, Ben, but…”

  “But what?”

  She shrugged and peered out the side window.

  “Don’t stop talking now. We’re on a roll. Are you worried about… us?”

  Her head whipped around. “What us? We were very up-front about no commitment before we… we had sex.”

  He glared at her. “You make it sound like a one-nighter. It wasn’t.”

  “Okay, so it was a three-nighter. Still nothing serious.”

  He shifted gears, literally and figuratively. “Yeah, I admitted I was just recovering from a painful breakup and wasn’t looking for anything serious. But shit happens. You said you wouldn’t be living here much longer. I plan to change that.”

  “There’s no guarantee we’re going to stop Jeremy. It’s always easier just to move on.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Is that what you want to do?”

  “No. No, it isn’t. But what I want quit mattering two years ago.”

  “Only if you continue to let Jeremy win.”

  Damn, here it was again. The age-old fight-or-flight dilemma. “Running is better than dead.”

  “Hunt or be hunted. Look, together we can stop him, babe.”

  “I can’t do this right now. There’s Mandy’s house.”

  * * *

  While they waited for Mandy to answer the door, Ben pretended to check his phone. It was easier than trying to determine what was going on inside Amber’s head.

  Shit, he didn’t have time to deal with her indecision right now. He thought they’d settled the issue already, but obviously, she was having second thoughts. He also didn’t have time to figure out why it bothered him so much. He should’ve been happy with a casual, short-term fling. That’s all he was looking for, after all.

  “Uh, Amber? Is that you?” Mandy asked when she opened the door.

  She laughed. “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “Um, what’s up with the… uh… disguise?”

  “Oh, it’s just part of… this.” She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Mandy, meet Ben Alfren, my… neighbor.”

  They shook hands.

  “Thanks for letting us do this,” he said.

  Her gaze darted between him and Amber. “I’m still not clear on what ‘this’ is.”

  “My folks are always hounding me about when I’m going to give them grandkids.” Something odd tightened his throat. He coughed. “So I thought it would serve them right to punk them with a picture of me and a woman they’ve never met, standing in a nursery as if we’re pregnant.”

  Mandy arched her eyebrows. “I guess it’s funny as long as they don’t have heart attacks.”

  “Nah, they’ll catch on pretty fast. I just want a moment of shock-and-awe.”

  “If you say so.” She gestured for them to follow. “The nursery’s this way.”

  When they entered the room, Amber sniffed. “It smells like baby powder. Are you practicing changing diapers?”

  A foolish grin lit the expectant woman’s face. “No. I just like to sprinkle a little powder on the carpet to make the room smell… right.”

  “Ah, that’s so sweet,” Amber said. She handed her iPhone to her coworker. “Okay, Ben, you take the boy sign, and I’ll take the girl. We’ll stand at opposite ends of the crib.”

  They set up, and Mandy took the shot.

  “Now let’s stand together.”

  Another photo snapped.

  “I have an idea,” Ben said. He took the sign from Amber’s hand and set both on the floor. Then he pulled her in front of him. With his hand splayed across her belly, he kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed…

  Time froze for a few moments while he caressed Amber’s belly. He peered into the hazel eyes staring up at him, wishing he could see the pools of molten dark chocolate that were her real eyes. How would he feel if she really had their child inside her? Possessiveness and protectiveness surged through him.

  Mandy giggled. “All right, already. I got the picture. Three times. You sure you two aren’t more than neighbors?”

  “Oh yeah, we’re definitely more than neighbors,” Ben said.

  Amber blinked and stepped back. “Don’t we need to be going?”

  After thanking Mandy, they headed out. An awkward silence filled the car.

  “You know we can’t use the last photo with you rubbing my belly. That’s not where the pretend baby is going to be,” Amber said tightly.

  “Yeah, I know. That picture was for you, not for our charade tomorrow.” To hell with this. He cleared his throat. “You’ll be married someday, Amber. And you’ll be pregnant and decorating your own nursery. You just have to get rid of Jeremy so you can get on with your life.”

  “I’m glad you said ‘you’ not ‘we.’ Don’t worry, Ben. Even if you help me get Jeremy off my back, I won’t expect you to take care of my other dreams.”

  “You’re twisting my words. That’s not what I meant by ‘you.’”

  “Whatever.”

  “Ah, a woman’s way of saying, ‘Screw you.’”

  Amber stared at him in surprise. “You’re right.” She chuckled. “Are we having our first fight?”

  “I don’t know. Are we?”

  “I guess. What does the relationship guru have to say about that?”

  Ben laughed. “If this is the worst fight we ever have, we’re golden. C’mere.” She leaned over, and he kissed her. “If you can just lay low at my place until this op is over, I’ll take off a few days to concentrate on us and catching Jeremy.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  “Damn straight.”

  * * *

  Back at the San Diego FBI office, they paraded Pedro outside with the birth announcement signs. With him posed next to some generic landscaping, Amber took several shots before he relaxed enough to give her a genuine smile. After the conversation with Ben, she was relieved they had a break from being alone together.

  “What if Maria does not recognize me?” Pedro said.

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Ben asked.

  “Because she’ll be nervous,” Amber explained on Pedro’s behalf. He nodded agreement. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure Maria looks at the picture until she does.”

  “Then what?” The boy’s voice cracked with emotion. “She will not understand.”

  Amber grasped his trembling hand. “I’ll talk to her, woman to woman, and make a connection.”

  “We’re also going to try to pass her a note. From you,” Ben said. “Does she read English?”

  “She understands more what she hears than reads. I will write Spanish.”

  “Makes sense.” Ben raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m not certain we’ll be able to pass it to her. Understand that I won’t risk the entire op for the sake of the note.”

  “What if Maria thinks you are more bad guys hunting them?”

  “Look, man, it can’t be helped. There are a lot of lives at stake.”

  “What I think Ben is trying to say is that he doesn’t want to scare Maria, but it’s more important to rescue her,” Amber said, sensing Ben’s frustration. As much as he was committed to saving Maria, his responsibilities went far beyond one person, while Pedro had tunnel vision only for his girlfriend.

  The kid shook his head. “Maria is brave. She is not scared. She fight you.”

  “Will she understand we’re the good guys when we yell, ‘FBI’?”

  “She know FBI is an American policía. But in Mexico, we do not always trust policía.”

  “Shit, I hope she trusts us,” Ben said.

  �
��I tell her in note. Okay?”

  “Yeah, let’s do this.”

  The trio returned to the conference room. Amber sat at the table watching Ben work patiently with Pedro to draft the note. The kid wanted to write a long, loving letter. Ben needed short and to the point. They compromised.

  “If you were in Maria’s situation, how would you react to this?” Ben asked before reading the English version aloud. “‘Dear Maria, Trust Ben and Amber. The FBI will rescue you tomorrow. Stay down when the shooting starts. I love you. Pedro.’”

  She imagined herself being kidnapped, torn away from her lover, and held against her will in a foreign country. Being told she would have to bear someone else’s child, whether she wanted to or not, would be horrendous. Not knowing if she would ever escape or see her loved ones again could only be described as heartbreaking. Any ray of hope would be welcome, regardless of how long or how brilliantly written.

  Her eyes stung with unshed tears. We’re coming, Maria.

  “Well?” Ben prompted.

  “I’d be thrilled.”

  Chapter 21

  Sitting alone in the conference room, Ben glanced at his watch: nine p.m. He flexed his shoulders and rolled his head to the right and then to the left to loosen the tight muscles in his neck.

  Planning the op surrounding the surrogate interviews tomorrow had taken more time than expected. Totally my fault. His desire to think beyond Wednesday to where the potential outcomes might lead had prolonged the process.

  When Amber said she wanted to leave, he’d tried to talk her out of it. He really didn’t like the idea of her being in the apartment alone. But he’d finally conceded and had Dillon drive her home around dinnertime. He’d given his friend and fellow agent strict instructions to reconnoiter the neighborhood and entire complex before escorting her to Ben’s apartment, which Dillon was also to search before leaving her there.

  Amber had taken off her disguise after the pictures at Mandy’s house. But he’d insisted she put it back on to go home. If Jeremy Nelson was prowling around, Ben didn’t want the asshole to ever see his prey coming or going from the apartments.

  Amber’s stalker was making him nervous. He didn’t like not having a plan. But for the moment, his job had to take priority. As soon as they rescued Maria and took down Garcia and Loco, Jeremy was next.

  He dialed his cell. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Just like I was an hour ago, and the hour before that, and the hours before that. I’m fine, Ben. Stop worrying.”

  “No can do. I won’t stop until we get that bastard off your back.”

  “Fine.”

  “That’s another one of those misleading words women use, but I don’t remember what it really means.”

  “It means I’m right, and you should shut up.”

  He huffed. “Not sure I like that.”

  “Deal with it.” She sighed. “When are you coming… home?”

  He noticed her hesitation on the word home. Clearly, she thought he might react to her calling his place home, although it certainly was his home—just not hers. Would she like it to be hers? Would he? Damn, where did that idea come from?

  “Maybe another hour.”

  “Okay. I may go to bed before then. I’m really drained, and tomorrow’s going to be another stressful day.”

  “Good idea. I’ll try not to wake you.” He hesitated. “Mi casa es su casa.”

  A long silence answered.

  “Amber?”

  She gulped loudly. Was she crying?

  “Yeah… uh… thanks. See you in the morning.”

  She disconnected abruptly.

  “That went well,” he mumbled.

  He forced his mind off Amber and back on the various strategies the Bureau could employ depending on Wednesday’s results. The crucial piece of information was the location of the dormitory. That linchpin determined how or whether they could proceed.

  Deep in thought, he almost missed the distinct ringtone. When it registered, he grabbed the phone. “What’s wrong, Marissa?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t call after midnight just to chat.”

  “True.”

  “Gypsy, talk to me.”

  “I’m confused because I don’t know if I had a dream or a… premonition, Benja.”

  “Tell me,” he said gently.

  “I saw a man and a woman.”

  “The man was me?”

  “No, definitely not. But I couldn’t see the face of either person.”

  “Doesn’t that usually mean you don’t know them?”

  “Usually. But there was something familiar about the woman.”

  He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his forehead. Unraveling one of Marissa’s premonitions was often like solving a puzzle. “Familiar? Like what?”

  “As if I have seen her… but not seen her.”

  “Well, that’s clear as mud. What does it mean?”

  “Perhaps she’s been in another premonition.”

  He frowned. “Maybe it’s Maria. You kind of saw her at the one-star hotel/prison. Which, by the way, was true, but the bastards call it a dormitory.”

  “So you have found her?”

  “Yeah. Long story.”

  “I am so happy for Pedro. He is a good boy.”

  “I like him too.” He paused. “Is Pedro the guy with Maria?”

  “Oh no. After talking to Pedro, I would feel that it was him.” She sighed. “This man felt… bad. Very bad.”

  “I know a doctor, a coyote, and a drug lord who would qualify.”

  “Perhaps, yes. And this man had a gun.”

  “Yep, that would fit.”

  “Good.” She sighed again. “The last part is very odd.”

  “What’s new?”

  She chuckled. “You make fun of me?”

  “Never. I’m your biggest fan. Tell me, Gypsy.”

  “The man and woman are in…”

  “In…?”

  “The sky.”

  Ben closed his eyes. “In a plane?” he asked hopefully.

  “No. They are just… in the air.”

  “Huh?”

  She swore in Czech under her breath. “I do not understand either. All I know is when I look down as they do, I am… in the sky above the water.”

  “In a helicopter? There’s a chopper involved in the op.”

  “Maybe, yes. But I do not feel… enclosed. The wind blows on my face, and the salt air tickles my nose.”

  He shook his head with frustration. “I don’t get it.”

  “Neither do I. But there it is. Use it if you can.”

  * * *

  Mi casa es su casa. Ben’s words repeated over and over in Amber’s head. Was he trying to tell her something?

  “Mi casa isn’t even mi casa,” she mumbled. None of it belonged to her. Not just the unit itself, but every stick of furniture in it. Everything was temporary. Her entire life felt temporary.

  She closed her eyes against the sting of tears. It hadn’t always been this way.

  After earning her nursing degree, she’d gotten a job at a hospital in Topeka. Then landing the position with the surrogate mother clinic had opened up a whole new world for her. She’d finally made enough money that she could rent her first solo apartment. The furniture and furnishings—even the shower curtain—were hers. She made new friends, enjoyed a social life, had fun. Life had been good… until Jeremy took over.

  They’d met at another nurse’s birthday party. Jeremy had stayed on the sidelines, exuding something between a nerdy-loner and a bad-boy aura. No one paid any attention to him. So, when he hesitantly asked her to dance, she’d said yes as much out of pity as curiosity. Looking back, her simple compassionate gesture had been the first mistake. The second was giving him her phone number at the end of the party.

  He showered her with attention and gifts. Never had a man been so interested in her. It fed her ego and quickly went to her head. Jeremy made her feel desired a
nd adored.

  In addition, he confided in her about his childhood to gain her sympathy. How he’d grown up in foster care. How every time he started to feel loved and secure, he was ripped from that home and placed with another set of strangers. As a teenager, he grew so cynical that, when moved yet again and again, he refused to unpack the two suitcases, which held everything he owned in the world. Because he suspected people in the foster homes of stealing his things, he locked the suitcases whenever he left his room. Other children conspired to turn the foster parents against him until he stood up for himself. Then his violent outbursts forced Child Protective Services to remove him from more homes. Everyone was determined to take everything—physical and emotional—from him.

  His strategy with Amber worked, for a while. She did feel sorry for him. She swore she’d never hurt him as so many had. When he asked for an exclusive relationship after just a couple of weeks of dating, she had reservations. But he looked so disappointed when she said she needed to think about it that she ended up agreeing. Her third mistake.

  Soon after, he began pressuring her for sex. She’d only slept with two other men, so making love was a serious step for her. Jeremy played the role of rejected lover perfectly until she’d finally had sex with him more out of guilt than desire. Sleeping with him had been her fourth mistake.

  Instantly, Jeremy turned obsessively possessive. He demanded to know where she was at all times. Out of concern, he claimed, not control. When she did something he didn’t like, he punished her with painfully rough sex.

  Remembering his sad childhood, she made excuses for his behavior time after time. Not only to others, but also to herself. After a month of Jeremy the Tyrant though, she’d had enough. She broke a date with him to go out to dinner and a movie with girlfriends. When she returned home, she found he’d broken into her apartment and was waiting for her.

  He raped her on the kitchen floor and then beat her. She’d called a girlfriend instead of the police. The next day he sent three dozen red roses and cried through a half-hour apology on the phone. She forgave him—her fifth, biggest, and last mistake.

  A few days later, she had to work late at the clinic. Since it was dark when she left, a male coworker walked Amber to her car. Spying on her from down the block, Jeremy misinterpreted the considerate gesture. He followed her home and attacked her. Calling her a whore and other awful names, he beat her. Again. Hearing Amber’s screams, a neighbor called 911.