Hot Pursuit (To Catch a Thief Book 1)

by Kay Marie

  “That’s wonderful,” she said with a sigh.

  Nate snorted.

  Jo snapped her head in his direction. “What? It is wonderful.”

  “Oh, sure,” Nate commented, unable to completely remove the sarcasm from his voice. “Wonderful. I’m just happy I got them both through college alive.”

  Her lips twitched, but the reproachful expression remained. “I always wanted siblings, you know. And I guess I did have one, in a way, with Thad.” Jo swallowed quickly and looked away. She clasped her fingers by her waist, fiddling with her thumbs in a way that didn’t match the confident woman he was used to. And then she looked up, directly into his eyes. “I moved to the island with my dad right after middle school—no friends, really, not much family except for Thad and his father, who were only around over the summer and on vacations. It was, well, a bit lonely at times, you could say. I used to spend hours wondering what the classmates I’d left behind were doing—going to the homecoming dance, to football games, to prom. Applying for college, maybe going to summer camp, or to the movies over the weekend, or the mall to gossip about boys. I mean, I’m fine with how I grew up. Not everyone has a beach for a backyard and anything else they could ever want, but you shouldn’t knock typical. Typical is just fine. To some people, typical is the dream.”

  Jo turned back to the baseball game. Nate kept his eyes on her, studying the subtle downturn of her red lips, the graceful way her fingers lifted to brush a lock of hair back behind her ear. Was that why she’d become so good with computers? At hacking? Because the internet had become her only interaction with the outside world? It was hard to connect this assured, teasing, poised woman with a lost teenager struggling with loneliness and lack of self-worth. Had crime helped her find her way? Given her a purpose? Or was she always meant to be someone else, something else, and life got in the way?

  The questions bunched in the back of his throat, but Nate stuck to his agreement—no work, only play. For now.

  “What about the girls you were talking to on your phone?” Nate asked.

  And then immediately cringed.

  The only reason he knew about them was a wiretap on her cell phone. A wiretap he’d ordered. Because he was a Fed. And she was a thief. And it always came back to that in the end.

  Jo turned to him with a brow raised in amusement but didn’t go for the obvious taunt. Instead, her lips widened into an honest, energetic smile. “McKenzie and Addison? They’re the best. Just, the best. The only girlfriends I’ve had in a long time who understand me. I met them online a few years ago in a chat room about this baking show, and we’ve been close ever since. Bouncing ideas back and forth, sending each other recipes, boosting confidence when needed, that sort of thing. I hadn’t really talked to anyone about my cooking since my mom died, but as soon as I connected with them, I realized how much I missed sharing that part of me with other people, you know?”

  Nate nodded. He understood exactly what she meant. No one in his life growing up had understood his drive to join the agency, his desire to follow in his father’s footsteps when those footsteps had led him to an early grave. But when he joined the bureau, Nate had felt accepted. Surrounded by so many like-minded people, he understood it was where he was meant to be, what he was meant to be doing.

  “But they don’t know…” He trailed off, biting his tongue because he wasn’t supposed to ask questions she couldn’t answer. Not yet.

  Jo cut him a sharp look. “No.”

  And that was that.

  Shit.

  He hadn’t meant to throw off the vibe, to make her shut down. Not when she was finally opening up. Not when he, much to his surprise, was actually enjoying this side of Jolene Carter—the honest, real woman instead of the vixen. Though…the vixen wasn’t half bad either.

  “You’re right, you know,” Nate said, hoping to bring her back in. Because she was right. In the back of his mind, Nate tried to imagine his life without his brother and sister, without the stress of worrying about them, yes, but without the laughter their antics supplied, the joy their love brought him. One of the happiest days of his life had been standing by his brother’s side as he married the woman of his dreams. A close second was sitting in the stands as his sister accepted her diploma, pride a swelling bubble in his chest. He wouldn’t trade them for anything. Not even to have his father back. “Typical is nothing to be snide about.”

  In fact, he really did owe his mom a phone call.

  It had been ages since he’d heard the sound of her voice, of any of their voices. Life in the bureau didn’t leave much room for anything else.

  Jo nudged him with her elbow.

  Nate tossed her a wry glance.

  They locked eyes and came to a standstill, too focused on one another to move. His feet were heavy, trapped in place by the intensity of her gaze. Deep in the centers of those emerald irises, he could almost see the dream playing through her thoughts, the dream he was too afraid to dare imagine for himself. Of a white picket fence. And children running around a freshly mowed backyard. And a woman by his side, her smooth hand wrapped in his, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her waist, as they watched, at peace, at home.

  And then bam!

  Just like that, a memory invaded.

  The same one as always.

  Screeching tires. A high-pitched shriek. An inhuman scream crawling its way up his throat. The burn of asphalt scraping against his knees. His hands pressed to a twitching chest. The blood spilling over his fingers, more and more and more, dripping down his arms and onto the driveway, spreading wider and wider and—

  Nate lurched his eyes away from Jo, breaking the contact, breaking the memory. He couldn’t think about it. Didn’t want to. That dream wasn’t part of his future. Not with this life. This job. This past. He would never risk doing that to a child, to his child. Never.

  “Nate?” Jo asked softly, her voice cautious, maybe the least bit concerned.

  He shook his head.

  Fingers encircled his, petite and dainty, yet strong enough to squeeze so tight he could feel her touch all the way to his core, a warm embrace.

  “Look!” Her voice shifted completely.

  Nate groaned, already knowing he didn’t like the overly gleeful and enthusiastic tone. “What?”

  Jo lifted both of their hands, pointed to a spot in the distance. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

  Nate zeroed in on the spot, then proceeded to hang his head in disdain. “Unfortunately, I am.”

  “A carousel!” Jo exclaimed, even though he could see it same as her and knew exactly what it was.

  “A kiddie ride,” he grumbled.

  “Oh, let’s go,” she pleaded, dragging him forward as he dug his heels into the pavement. “Come on, I used to love them as a little girl. I haven’t even seen one in ages.”

  “Jo.”

  That was it. That was all he had.

  Clearly, it did nothing.

  “Nathaniel Parker, are you really going to deny me the joy of a ride on a carousel? I thought you agreed to play by my rules today. And my rules say age is just a number.”

  “Can I watch?” He tried a different approach.

  Jo rolled her big green eyes in his direction. “Don’t be such a grump.”

  His mouth fell open in mock horror.

  Jo grinned. “You’re too young and too handsome to be an old curmudgeon.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult,” he teased but let her pull him forward with a sigh.

  They found a place in line behind a pack of screaming six-year-olds. Nate lifted his fingers to pinch his brow, but Jo swatted his arm back down, refusing to let him rain on her parade. She tightened both of her hands around one of his, one small step away from jumping up and down with her excitement. And though Nate kept a staunch frown on his face, it was a struggle as some foreign sense of lightness sprinkled across his chest at the sight of her happiness.

  When their turn was called, Jo jumpe
d through the turnstile, rushing to find the perfect horse. “Hmm, white with gold reins. Pink and silver? There are too many options… Ooh! A unicorn!”

  She jumped up and held the pole for balance.

  Nate stood next to her with his arms crossed. “This is the most ridiculous I’ve ever felt in my entire life.”

  She kicked him gently. “Get on the horse.”

  “Excuse me?” Nate turned slowly in her direction.

  Jo angled her head toward the pink horse on the opposite side—still not claimed. “Come on, get on the horse.”

  “Jo, there is no way I’m getting on that horse.”

  Her red lips dropped into a pout. A frustratingly good one. “You promised.”

  “Promised what?”

  “To play by my rules. To have some fun, for once in your life.”

  She stared at him, hard.

  He stared right back.

  “Come on. Before someone else takes it.”

  He didn’t move.

  She slapped his ass.

  Nate jolted. “What the he—”

  “Nate,” she cut in smoothly, wide-eyed and innocent. “Don’t curse in front of the children.”

  Jo reared her hand back.

  Nate sighed.

  And stepped around her.

  And got on the damn horse.

  “I want it to be known I didn’t go into this willingly.”

  Jo grinned. “Noted.”

  The music started, and the carousel began to turn. All around them, children started squealing. Jo gripped the pole for balance as she bobbed up and down, a childlike sense of awe written across her beautiful face. A sight he couldn’t look away from. Laughter spilled from her lips as she leaned her head back, auburn hair swirling in the breeze, and let out a little holler.

  Jo turned, catching him staring. “One shout. Just one.”

  He shook his head.

  “Don’t make me undo another button on that collar of yours,” she threatened.

  Nate lifted a hand to his shirt. He’d completely forgotten she’d loosened it. But he didn’t mind the extra freedom. He was too used to wearing a comm set, needing to cover it up. But today, he was free of those rules. Today, he followed someone else’s. So, with a shake of his head, Nate accepted her silent dare. He slipped another button free, let his head fall back, and released a quick shout.

  “You’ve got more in you than that,” Jo teased and looked to the mirrors at the top of the carousel, finding his gaze in the reflection as she screamed. “Woo-hoo!”

  “Woo…” Nate tried to match her enthusiasm. He really did. He just wasn’t born this way.

  Jo shook her head, letting her hair whip. “Woo-hoo!”

  Nate sucked in a deep breath, thinking about nothing more than wiping that challenging look from her eyes, and let himself go. “Yee-haw!”

  Her eyes widened to saucers in the mirror. She rolled her lips in, biting down to keep them from spreading. And then she copied him. “Yee-haw!”

  “Woo-hoo!”

  “Ride ’em cowboy!”

  “Yahoo!”

  “Weeee!”

  The ride stopped.

  The world came tumbling back.

  Nate tore his gaze from Jo’s reflection, dropping it back down to the people around them. He’d never known six-year-olds had the power to be so judgmental, but yeesh… Nate shivered from the heat of their glares. Jo took his arm and pulled him from the firing squad.

  “Kids are mean,” he grumbled.

  “Total savages.” Jo nodded. “Ooh, soft pretzels!”

  Nate shook his head. Having a conversation with her was like constant whiplash. “What?”

  “Soft pretzels,” she repeated, nudging her chin in the direction of a park vendor.

  Street food? Why does it always have to come down to street food?

  Nate shook his head. “No. This is where I draw the line.”

  “At soft pretzels?” she asked, face twisting in confusion. But then she shrugged and held her hands up. “I’ll let you have this one. See? I can compromise.”

  Nate snorted.

  Jo shook her head and sauntered off. Nate watched her, eyes drawn almost against their will to wherever she was. And then he noticed a man over her shoulder, sitting on a bench, gaze sharp, studying her.

  Nate narrowed his eyes.

  Why did that man look so familiar?

  Where had he seen him before?

  Jo walked back. “Sure you don’t want a bite?”

  “No,” he replied, distracted.

  And then he remembered.

  Earlier today, he was on our first bus.

  And then again, I saw him in Times Square.

  We have a tail.

  Nate put his hand to the small of Jo’s back and turned her, gently shifting so they walked in the opposite direction. “Did you notice that man on the bench?”

  “What?” she muttered, mouth half full of pretzel.

  “That man on the bench?” he whispered. “I think we’re being followed.”

  Jo tilted her head. “I thought he was with you.”

  “No, definitely not.”

  Nate gritted his teeth.

  A Russian. It has to be a Russian.

  Following Jo.

  Following us.

  “You swear to me you don’t know who that man is?” he asked, one more time, looking directly into her eyes, trusting her not to lie.

  “I swear.”

  Her voice didn’t falter. Didn’t break.

  It was firm. And honest.

  He had to believe it was honest.

  Which meant he’d been right about her—Jo didn’t know about the real work her father was doing, the real work Ryder was doing. But even if she didn’t know about them, the Russians knew about her.

  Nate’s chest pinched, tense and burning.

  His fingers curled into tightened fists.

  His jaw clenched. The nerve in his neck started ticking.

  For the first time since joining this operation, Nate wasn’t worried about Jolene Carter. He was worried for Jolene Carter. For her safety. For her life.

  “What, Nate? What?”

  He looked down, meeting those probing eyes. I can get you out of this, he wanted to say. I can get you immunity. I can give you a future. But if they had a tail, the man could be listening. Anyone could be listening. Nate couldn’t say those words aloud.

  Not yet.

  Not here.

  And the longer they were together, the more dangerous it would be for her. If the Russians thought she was talking to him, really talking— If they thought she was a turncoat— Nate shivered. He didn’t want to start down that road. “You should go.”

  Her brows pushed together.

  He pressed on, harsher than he’d intended. “Jo, you should go, now. We had a fun day. But I have things to do, and so do you. We both knew this couldn’t last forever.”

  “Nate,” she started.

  “Goodbye, Jo,” he said firmly, interrupting her and darting his gaze toward their tail for emphasis, an explanation he couldn’t voice. Stilted understanding flickered in her eyes, but she didn’t move. So Nate did the only thing he could to keep her safe. He turned and marched off, leaving her behind.

  - 15 -

  Jo

  Jo watched Nate walk away, resisting the urge to turn and glance over her shoulder. She had noticed a man following them. But who? And why had he spooked Nate so much? And why had fear sparked like lightning across his eyes? Was it for himself…or for her?

  She needed to talk to Thad.

  She needed answers.

  For once in her life, she needed to know.

  Jo reached into her purse and pulled out her burner phone. Thad had bought them each one and had slipped hers into the purse she picked up at coat check the day before. The number of his burner was the only one saved into her contacts. Jo flipped the phone open, but paused, hovering her fingers over the buttons, unsure.

  Only f
or emergencies.

  He said only for emergencies.

  Clearly, this wasn’t one.

  But at the same time, she knew Thad. And this seemed like something he’d want to know—the mysterious tail, yes, but also the fact that Nate had pulled a one-eighty switch and spent the entire morning with her off the record.

  Strawberry Shortcake in the park.

  Jo hit send.

  He’d know what it meant.

  There was an area of the park dedicated to John Lennon called Strawberry Fields. And though Jo had always been partial to viewing Pippi Longstocking as her redheaded icon, Thad used to tease her with Strawberry Shortcake instead.

  He’d understand.

  Jo put the phone back in her purse and took a compact out instead, under the guise of reapplying her red lipstick. But she angled the mirror just so, using it to glance behind and study the man still discreetly watching her. Tall. Dark hair. Hooded eyes. Frown across his lips. Wearing jeans and a black blazer.

  She snapped the compact shut—if she held it up for too long he’d notice—and then she continued on her merry way. The man followed. Jo let him, even as the hairs on the back of her neck stood, and made for the meeting spot. Twenty minutes later, Thad found her.

  They made eye contact briefly. He walked right past her and Jo trailed him at a distance, until he found a bench to his liking in a crowded part of the park. Thad sat. Jo took the empty spot at the other end of the bench.

  “Someone’s following me,” she murmured, pretending to look for something in her purse. “Not a Fed.”

  “How do you know?” he muttered.

  “Nate told me.”

  There was a pause. “Nate?”

  Jo closed her eyes tight, squeezing. Idiot. “Agent Parker.”

  “When exactly did he become Nate?” Thad asked, voice tight.

  “I’ll get to that,” she sidestepped and then leaned back, dropping her head against the bench, pretending to bask in the sunlight so Thad had a view behind her. She let her head fall in his direction so the tail couldn’t see her lips move. “Do you see the guy in jeans and a blazer? Tall? Black hair? Medium scruff? He’s been following me all day.”