Closer

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Closer Page 17

by Leigh, Jo


  When she finally pulled back, she caught his wince. His mouth was really banged up, his lip split at the corner. “Oh, God, you’re really hurt.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. He nodded past her. “You recognize him?”

  She forced herself to look at the body lying on her carpet. “Oh, God.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Dan. The guy I…It’s Dan.”

  “He won’t be—”

  The front door flew open and Seth ran in, weapon drawn, his face a mask of rage. It took a moment for him to register that it was already over, and even then he went to the body, and kicked away Dan’s gun, then checked his pulse. As he crouched there on the carpet, he looked at the two of them. “Sorry. He didn’t trip any of the alarms. We didn’t know until we heard him talking.”

  “I don’t know how the hell he got in,” Boone said. He closed his eyes. “I’m thinking crawl space.”

  Seth came over to her and touched her shoulder. “You okay?”

  “We’ve got to get Boone to a hospital. And call the police.”

  “We can’t call the police,” Seth said. “And I’ve got a first-aid kit in the truck.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s dead. We have to call the cops.”

  Seth shot a look at Boone. “He wasn’t just a stalker. He couldn’t be, not with his equipment. We need time to check it out. And we won’t get that time if the police are called in.”

  “You think he’s a spy? That makes no sense. What could a spy want with me?”

  “We don’t know,” Seth said. “That’s what we need to find out. Now let me go get the first-aid kit, and you take care of Boone.”

  “I’ll be okay,” Boone said. “Seth, have you called Harper?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be right back.” He left, closing the front door behind him.

  Christie stared at the closed door for a moment, still trying to process that Dan, who’d seemed so very normal, had been the one who’d destroyed her life. She didn’t believe it about him being a spy. He had a practice. She’d been to his office, and there had been real patients there. If this was about Nate, it still didn’t make sense. He hadn’t told her anything. Ever. Her gaze went back to Dan’s body, and she thought about that laugh of his. That wasn’t about spies or Nate. He’d wanted to hurt her. Make her suffer.

  The bastard had put cameras in her home to watch her in her most private moments. He’d gotten her fired from her job, had the IRS seize her accounts…She looked at Boone, who looked as if he might fall down any second. He didn’t appear to have any life-threatening injuries, but God, he looked awful. “I don’t understand,” she said. “How did Dan get the IRS to do what he wanted?”

  Boone shook his head, although the movement was tentative. “I don’t know. But we’re going to find out.”

  She nodded, but her thoughts had turned to Milo, who was so still. She went over to him and touched his head, terrified. He was warm, and better than that, he opened his eyes a bit. As she ran her hands down his flank, she found the dart and pulled it out of him. He didn’t even whimper. “What did he do to you, sweetie? My poor baby.”

  Boone turned on the living room light so she could look at Milo more carefully. He didn’t seem too bad, just lethargic, but she wouldn’t believe he was okay until he was checked out by the vet. She stroked him over and over, her anger and confusion so overwhelming that she started shaking again. “Please be okay,” she whispered. “Please.”

  Seth came back in, this time with Kate. He carried a large black bag, and Kate had something gray and bulky in her arms. They were both dressed in dark clothes and Kate had her hair tied back. Seth put down his bag then checked out the nasty cut on Boone’s forehead. “You’ll live,” he said. “We need the keys to her car.”

  Boone had them from their last foray outside, and he handed them over. “That’s Dan,” he said. “The psychologist.”

  Seth looked at the body. Jesus, the dead body. Christie sat back on her heels, the enormity of what they’d done hitting her like a brick.

  “We’ll find out everything we can,” Seth said. “Check out his house, find his car.” He went over to Dan and without hesitation explored his pockets, retrieving a key chain and wallet. “Christie, why don’t you take Boone into the kitchen and clean him up.”

  She stood on shaky legs and headed for the kitchen, not looking down, trying not to think about what Seth was going to do with Dan’s body.

  Boone brought the big black bag with him and put it on the kitchen table. When Christie sat down, she studied his face and saw that there were only two gashes. They’d bled a lot, but neither of them were bad enough to need stitches. The bruises were a lot more severe. His eye was already turning colors and so was his left cheek and the side of his mouth.

  She got up, touched Boone on the shoulder as she went to the sink. She got a couple of clean dishcloths, wet and soaped one, then went back to him. He watched her with his good eye and submitted quietly to her ministrations, only hissing once when she cleaned the worst of the cuts.

  After he was clean, she got out some bandages, studiously avoiding the scene in her living room. “Boone, how can we not go to the police?”

  “It’s going to take us at least twenty-four hours to check out this guy. If the police are called, they’ll send someone to his house, and they won’t wait for us to finish. And there’s no way we can hold the body until we’re through. Trust me. It’s for your protection, too.”

  “Someone’s going to miss him.”

  “Most likely, but they won’t connect him to you. Seth will make sure of that.”

  “I hate this. I hate that I knew him. That I dated him. I don’t understand why.”

  “We’ll figure it out, okay? But you have to trust us.”

  “I do,” she said, carefully pasting a butterfly bandage to his forehead. “I trust you.” She examined her work, and decided all he needed now was ice for the bruises. “You know, I thought I’d be relived,” she said. “I’m not.”

  “You will be. We’ll go see my hacker friend, Larry, as soon as it’s light. By the time we get back, the house will be yours again. No cameras, no microphones. Nothing at all to remind you of him.”

  Seth came through the kitchen and went into the garage. A few seconds later, she heard her car start up. Of course. He’d have to remove the body in secret.

  When she looked to the living room, she saw that Kate’s bundle had actually been a body bag. Dan was inside it, in the hallway. Her carpet was matted with his blood, already turning a sickly brown. She thought about what he’d done to her bed, and her anger rose again. There was no doubt at all that they’d killed him in self-defense. If she had remembered to unlock the safety, she would have shot him herself. The man was evil, and he deserved what he got. It didn’t make it easier not to call the police, but if Boone said they couldn’t, then she’d sign on.

  He’d saved her, and almost gotten himself killed in the process. He’d involved his friends, putting them all at risk. How could she ask him, any of them, to do more?

  She thought about her brother, and how much these people must have cared for him to do this for her. Wherever he was, she hoped he was proud, and as grateful as she was.

  “Stay here, okay?” Boone said. He went to the living room, where Seth waited. She hadn’t even heard him walk back from the garage. Kate was with them, but when Christie glanced into the kitchen, she headed toward the table.

  “Hey, you all right?”

  “I think so.”

  Kate sat down. She looked tired and anxious. Christie had the feeling this was harder for her than it was for Boone and Seth. Kate wasn’t a soldier. She’d clearly been involved in some horrible things, but the guys, they were used to all this covert stuff, trained for it until it had become second nature. Kate had been with the UN, and there was no way covering up dead bodies was part of that protocol.

  “We’ll have to replace the carpet. We’ll remove it now, and we’ll have so
meone we can trust come in with a new one. You want the same thing?”

  Christie sat back in her chair, laughter bubbling from somewhere deep. Carpet choices? Now? “Yeah, the same carpet will be fine.”

  “Great. It’ll all be over soon. You’ll have your life back. That’s gotta feel good.”

  “I don’t believe it. Not yet.”

  “Sure,” Kate said. “That’s understandable.”

  Christie leaned a little closer to her as the men carried the body bag through her kitchen. “Do you really think he was a spy?”

  Kate shrugged. “Best to cross all the t’s and dot the i’s. None of us can afford to leave it like this. But for what it’s worth, I think he was obsessed with you. I heard him, and even over the speakers, there was a lot of twisted passion in his voice.”

  “Yeah. I heard it, too.”

  “There’s no way this was anything but self-defense. You’re not getting away with murder. Got that? You did good, and with any luck at all, you’ll be able to put all this behind you.”

  Christie leaned back on her chair, suddenly so tired she could hardly hold her head upright.

  “Why don’t you get some rest? We’ll take care of things out here.”

  “Milo.”

  “We’ve got it covered.” Kate stood up. “He’s going to be fine. And so are you.”

  Christie wanted to believe her.

  Chapter 17

  BOONE STOOD BY HER BED, watching Christie sleep. He’d swallowed a couple of aspirin, which had taken the edge off, but he still hurt, though not as much as looking at her. Christ, her mouth was open, her hair was a mess and she looked too pale and thin to deny the stress she’d been under, but he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  This was it. Yeah, they still had to find out about her bank accounts, and make sure there were no complications over at the prick’s house, but it was over. He’d be leaving, going back to the business of scraping out a living and doing his damndest to out those bastards who’d tried to kill the team. Before this, before Christie, taking them down was all he cared about. Now he just wished he’d never been in the service at all.

  Other men could look back at a woman as the great heartbreak of their life. For Boone, it was the army. He’d given the service his heart, his soul, his body. And it had betrayed him in every way a man can be betrayed.

  Until he’d gone to Kosovo, he’d had an exemplary record. Delta had recruited him, and they’d competed with the SEALs to win him. He and Nate had gone head-to-head, and they’d kicked everyone else’s ass. It had been great.

  It had gone to hell so quickly. One assignment. It had looked like a cakewalk up front. Then they’d met Tam, and she’d shown them exactly who they were working for. A government agency that was unconnected to the army or Delta Force, funded as an offshoot of the CIA. They had no compunction about breaking the law, about subverting the principles of the Constitution or international treaties. They’d turned Nate’s unit into assassins for profit, and lied with every word out of their corrupt mouths.

  The moment of discovery had been their last free moment.

  Boone had gone home, met his father in secret, hoping for counsel, for support. His dad, the Major, had slapped him across the face and told him not to come home again.

  Since then, he’d lived every day as if it would be his last, and not particularly cared. Yeah, he wanted justice, but mostly he wanted to rest. He wanted to get a regular job, maybe doing some high-tech security, maybe open a store in a quiet part of Tennessee.

  Mostly, though, he wanted Christie. If things were different, he’d like to take her to his hometown, show her around. She’d like it there, in the mountains. So would Milo. That dog wouldn’t know what to do when he saw some of those homegrown squirrels.

  Christie shifted on the bed, her arm moving closer to her pillow. It ached, wanting her. Knowing that it might be years before he could come out of hiding. That it might be forever.

  Just his luck he’d finally found someone he could love, when there was no hope of doing a damn thing about it.

  “Hey.”

  He smiled at the soft, fuzzy voice, still half in sleep. “Hey, yourself.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost eight.”

  “In the morning, right?”

  He nodded. “There’s someone here who wants to see you.”

  She sniffed and fought a yawn. “Can it wait till I brush my teeth?”

  “I don’t think he cares.” Boone turned and patted his leg. Milo, tail wagging hard, came down the hall, his nails clacking on the hardwood.

  Christie sat up, her smile so beautiful it made Boone’s chest hurt, and when Milo jumped onto the bed, she hugged him so hard he almost fell right back down again.

  Boone had to leave, to turn away from her. She’d come on out when she was ready, and they’d take off. He’d called Larry to find out where he was with the IRS business, but he’d only gotten the machine. Seth was going to stop by later, after they’d finished their search at Dan Paterson’s house.

  Kate had called an hour ago. Dan’s place was a suburban one-story in Santa Monica, and the preliminary search hadn’t turned up squat. No electronics, no mention of Christie, nothing. They’d all agreed that made no sense, so they were digging deeper.

  As he passed the living room, his gaze went to the bare patch Seth had cut out of the carpet. If they couldn’t make the replacement seamless, they’d take out the whole damn thing and put in a new one. That wouldn’t happen until tomorrow, though. First things first, but damn, Boone wanted to get Christie back to her rightful life as soon as possible.

  Already, they’d removed most of the surveillance equipment. He wanted Seth to go through the house again, though, to make sure nothing was left behind. Then he wanted to change her locks and replace the bedroom window. They’d found the crawl space, where Dan had waited to spring his trap. He’d had earphones and a small monitor down there, which Seth had taken with him. Before he’d left, they’d nailed the access doors shut both inside and outside the house.

  Everything was coming together, and once her finances were back in order, she’d be fine. She could work again, have her friends back in her life, see her parents. Her nightmare would be over.

  “Boone?”

  He turned to see her standing by the bathroom door, holding a bundle of clean clothes. “Yeah?”

  “How about whipping me up one of your wonder shakes for breakfast.”

  He grinned. “No cookies? No ice cream?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Perish the thought. And double up on that wheat germ, would you?” She laughed as she closed the door behind her.

  His smile faded as he went into the kitchen. For the thousandth time, he cursed the bastards who’d stolen his life, and swore, once more, that he’d have his revenge.

  CHRISTIE STOOD IN THE SHOWER with the water hitting her in all the right places. She should have felt great. So much had gone right last night. Yeah, finding out the bastard was Dan was disturbing on a lot of levels, but the bottom line was, it was over. No more hiding in the corners. No more terror at the sound of a ringing phone. But…

  No more Boone.

  She hadn’t known him long enough to feel this crappy about losing him.

  He was going to leave, and she was going to have…what? Yeah, her life back. Hopefully her money back. No job, but that was okay, because she could get another job. A better job. And she’d have her friends again. So, yes, it would all be good. Great. Empty.

  Maybe it was for the best. Clearly her choice in men sucked. When she thought about Dan…Jesus. As she washed her hair, she considered her relationship with him. He hadn’t seemed weird. In fact, he’d seemed really normal, except for all the questions. That should have tipped her off, right? Him wanting to know everything about her family, about her work? But he was a psychologist, for God’s sake. It made no sense.

  She didn’t want to think about it anymore. What she ne
eded most was to sleep for a month, to gain back her strength and her perspective.

  WHEN SHE GOT TO THE KITCHEN, Boone was at the table staring at the wall, holding a big tumbler of breakfast smoothie and idly playing with Milo. Aside from his ugly bruises, which ironically, made him look even more ruggedly handsome, he seemed deflated. As if now that the thrill of the hunt was over, he had no rudder, no purpose. She understood that, a little more acutely than she wished.

  It was anticlimactic in a way. All this focus on catching a demon, and he’d turned out to be an asshole in a demon suit. Despite the truth, she still had a hard time associating the Dan she’d dated with the stalker. The cruelty was so much larger than the man. He’d delighted in her torment. A man who’d purportedly helped people get over pain and suffering.

  She’d have preferred sending him away to prison, if not a psychiatric hospital, but he’d taken away their choice. It would take time for her to recover from the entire ordeal, and, she realized, it would take Big, Bad Delta-Force Guy a while, too.

  Although she’d have sworn she didn’t have a nurturing bone in her body, seeing him so sad and so banged-up made her want to cook him chicken soup and put him to bed. She had no chicken, so that was out. But the bed part? That had possibilities. One more for the road. A last goodbye.

  Oh, that made her chest hurt. Despite his tendency to be a pain in the ass, having Boone around had been illuminating. And not just the sex. He thought she was strong. Capable. A fighter. No one had ever told her that before. She’d been her only cheering section when it came to facing the hard stuff. But these last few days, Boone had been her champion. She flushed at the thought, but it was true.

  “You gonna stand there and stare at me, or come drink your breakfast?”

  “You can’t truly be snarky when you’re talking about a health drink, you know.”

  “I can be snarky about anything.”

  To Milo’s delight, she joined them at the table, petting him lavishly for surviving yet another tranquilizing episode. Boone seemed pleased, too, although his smile was crooked from the swelling.

 

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