Beneath the Surface

by Meredith Fletcher

  “You could probably kill me with a tongue depressor. I mean, you’ve been trained to do stuff like that, right?”

  Rafe made himself breathe out. “I don’t have a tongue depressor either.”

  “I have to say, I’m surprised. I figured any man who packed duct tape for tying people up would probably carry tongue depressors for assassinating people, too.”

  “I’m not an assassin.” At least Rafe wasn’t most of the time.

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “I figured that. Vincent Drago didn’t seem to have any problem in that regard.”

  Pain flashed in those blue eyes. Rafe felt guilty and didn’t care for the feeling much. She was the enemy. He didn’t feel apologetic for the way he treated the enemy. He didn’t feel bad for running over Vincent Drago.

  “Give me back my foot,” she ordered. She pulled, but he didn’t let go. For a moment she looked as though she was going to hit him.

  That early defiance that he’d liked so much was beginning to wear thin.

  “Hitting me would be a mistake,” Rafe said. “You’re giving away seventy pounds at least. And I hit back.”

  Shannon glared at him some more. “Okay, then what do you propose we do?”

  A cab out on the street passed. For a moment Rafe considered calling out to it in spite of Allison’s cab embargo.

  Without a word, he bent down and took Shannon into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” Her arms slid naturally around his neck to keep herself from falling backward.

  “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he answered. For the first time in a long time, he realized what he’d been missing while not committing to a relationship. She lay in his arms.

  “Carrying me is stupid. Your leg is already bothering you.”

  She’d noticed that? Rafe was impressed. But he had to wonder if she’d noted the hesitation in his step out of concern or while looking for weakness.

  “I’ll manage,” he said

  “I could manage, too.”

  “Enjoy this while you’re getting it. It might not last long.” The way his knee felt, it probably wouldn’t. But he was stubborn, too.

  Thankfully, his cell phone vibrated before he’d gone three blocks. The knee was acting up something fierce, but the distraction caused by Shannon’s soft body bumping against him held narcotic properties of its own.

  Holding on to Shannon with one arm, he fished the phone out of his pocket. Only one person would have that number.

  “Yeah,” he growled.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Peachy. Tell me you’ve got a replacement.”

  “Not yet. But I do have a car. Leave the phone on while I track the GPS and get it to you.”

  Rafe walked to the nearest building and stood in the shadows. A cool breeze whispered through downtown D.C. The flashing neon of the bar scene and the traffic interrupted the darkness. A news copter whop-whop-whopped by overhead.

  “Do you know how long I’m going to be stuck with this?” Rafe asked.

  “Thanks,” Shannon said.

  Rafe ignored her response.

  “I’m working on it,” Allison said.

  Shannon shifted against Rafe. He guessed that being held wasn’t much more fun for her than it was for him to hold her. In fact, judging from his own treacherous response to her proximity and the hormones flashing through his brain that carried endorphins and pain suppressors, she was probably in a worse condition.

  Her shifting wasn’t helping. Her blouse gapped open and revealed the lacy edge of a nude bra and the rounded fullness of her breast. Breathing became a little difficult.

  “Are you all right?” Shannon asked. She looked up at him innocently.

  Rafe had the distinct impression she knew exactly what she was doing. She shifted again and the blouse shifted, offering a greater expanse for his perusal.

  “I’m fine,” Rafe growled.

  “What’s going on?” Allison asked. “It sounds like she’s standing on top of you.”

  “She lost her shoes back at the bar. Her feet are cut up. If you could get shoes for her, that would be great.”

  “Size seven and a half,” Shannon said. “Preferably something with a heel.”

  “I don’t care if they’re clown shoes,” Rafe said. “Carrying her isn’t easy.”

  Shannon punched him in the chest and tried to shove out of his arm. He let her go because he was too tired to fight her and his leg felt as if it were on fire. For a moment he wondered if she was going to run.

  Instead she stood at his side with her arms crossed. The delectable cleavage had been covered over.

  “I’ve got clothing and toiletries for both of you at the hotel,” Allison said.

  “What hotel?” Rafe grew more agitated. “Nobody said anything about a hotel.”

  “You haven’t seen the news, have you?”

  “We’ve been a little busy.”

  “Shannon’s wanted for murder.”

  “What?” Shannon yelped.

  Allison sighed. “She can hear me?”

  “Evidently. She must have ears like a bat.”

  “Terrific.”

  “What about me?”

  “At this point, you’re in the clear. Everyone knows that a man was there, but he—you—haven’t yet been identified.”

  “Yet?” Panic thundered at Rafe’s temples. If he got arrested, he didn’t know how he was going to react to being locked up. The nightmares of North Korea suddenly seemed to surround him.

  “There was a security camera in the bar that I couldn’t access. The police have pictures of you. So far I’m blocking your files, but I don’t know how much longer I can do that. The police are using facial-characteristic software, so that’s going to take time.”

  There was just no telling how much time.

  “I’m sorry,” Allison said. “I didn’t expect this to turn out to be so big.”

  “We need to go to the police,” Shannon said. “I can’t be wanted for murder.”

  “Tell her that turning herself in isn’t a good idea,” Allison said.

  “Why not?” Shannon demanded. “I didn’t kill anyone. He did.”

  “I have to tell you,” Rafe said sarcastically, “I find your show of loyalty really impressive.” He meant that for both women.

  “Drago received orders from someone to kill Shannon,” Allison said.

  “Who?”

  “The e-mail was in Drago’s personal computer. Whoever contacted him told him that Shannon was setting him up. Your arrival reinforced that idea.”

  “You’re the government hacker he was so angry about?” Shannon demanded. She pinned Rafe with her gaze. “Who are you people?”

  Rafe ignored her. “Personally, I’m ready at this point to gift wrap her and deliver her to the police. She’s becoming a pain in the ass.”

  Shannon glared at him.

  “We can’t do that,” Allison said.

  “We? It’s not we. It’s me. And I can do that.”

  “You don’t know that Drago is the only one that was assigned to kill her. If the information network that Shannon’s been part of is shutting down, whoever’s behind it may want to burn every bridge that leads to that network.”

  “You said Shannon doesn’t know anything.”

  “I don’t think she does. That doesn’t mean that whoever set up Drago to kill her believes that. If Shannon turns herself over to the police, she might be making herself an easier target for anyone trying to kill her. Not only that, but going to the police is going to increase the paranoia of whoever wants her dead.”

  Rafe looked at Shannon to make sure she’d heard that. When he saw the uncertainty and fear in her eyes, he knew that she had. But even as he saw those things, she glared at him again and looked competent and determined.

  Good. At least she wasn’t going to break down or do something stupid.

  “For the time being it makes more sense to stash the two of you until I see if
I can leverage any information,” Allison said.

  “I’m not going to be her jailer,” Rafe said.

  “Think of it as protective parent,” Allison responded.

  “I heard that,” Shannon said icily.

  “By the way,” Allison said, “your car is there.”

  Rafe had been tracking the sedan since it had made the corner at the end of the street. “Toyota SUV?”

  “Yes. The clothes are at the hotel. The driver has your room key card.”

  “Room?”

  “It’s hard to play bodyguard if you’re booked into separate rooms,” Allison pointed out.

  Rafe had to admit that was true. He noticed that Shannon’s immediate response was also muted.

  “I’ll be in touch if I find out anything,” Allison said. “If you need me, you know where I’ll be.”

  Rafe said goodbye and closed the phone. He looked at Shannon. “I meant what I said. I’m not going to be your jailer.”

  “You offered to take me prisoner earlier.”

  The pain in Rafe’s knee continued unabated. He really didn’t feel like arguing the point with Shannon or with Allison.

  “That was in the heat of the moment,” Rafe said. “You were stuck there like a deer in headlights.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “I don’t have the time or the inclination to debate this with you. The way I see it, I’m safer without you, so if you want to stay behind, that’s fine with me.” Rafe took off walking for the SUV.

  The driver got out, and he saw at once that it was a young woman. She had chin-length bronze hair and looked petite. She also wore a pistol somewhere on her person that was concealed by a nondescript dark hoodie over her slim-fit capris. Rafe knew about the weapon from her stance, but only because he’d been trained to look for such things. She looked like Jill College, but she obviously wasn’t.

  “Hi,” the young woman said in greeting.

  Rafe guessed that she was in her early twenties only because he knew Allison would never risk someone so young. She looked considerably younger.

  “Hey,” Rafe said.

  The young woman nodded to the SUV. “The keys are inside. You’ve got a package under the seat.”

  Rafe nodded. “Drop you anywhere?”

  The young woman shook her head. “I’ve got a party to get back to. Got some bad guys to bust before dawn. This was just a breather.”

  A breather? Over the years Rafe had met some of the women Allison called in on ops. They were all impressive and skilled. Where the hell does she get these women?

  “Thanks,” Rafe said.

  The young woman shrugged. “No big deal. Make sure you stay safe out there. Heard you’ve already had an exciting night.”

  “Yeah.”

  Without another word, the young woman turned and walked up the street she’d just driven down.

  When he glanced back, Rafe saw Shannon limping toward the SUV. He opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in without a word.

  Okay. The silent treatment. Now that’s a punishment I can live with. Rafe walked around the vehicle and clambered in. Too bad it won’t last. He knew that as soon as she figured out silence wasn’t upsetting him, she’d try a new tactic.

  He glanced around the street, saw that no one was in view and reached under the seat. The package was a box that reeked of gun oil. When he opened it, he found a Glock pistol chambered in .45 ACP. Two extra magazines, one loose round and a paddle holster lay in a side compartment.

  A small plastic bag held an electronic key card and an address written in a neat feminine hand. The hotel wasn’t far from where they were.

  A quick pull of the slide revealed that the pistol had a full magazine. He let the slide snap forward and strip the first round from the magazine. Then he popped the magazine free long enough to insert the loose round and slid the safety on before holstering the weapon. He loosened his belt long enough to loop the holster through.

  Then he put the SUV in gear and pulled into the light traffic.

  Chapter 9

  T he hotel was a surprise. It provided five-star accommodations near Dulles Airport and was often hard to get into.

  Shannon had expected a roach-infested hole-in-the-wall. But that was judging by the blue-collar mentality her mystery man exuded.

  And when—exactly—did you start thinking of him as yours? She got irritated at herself.

  The whole trip to the hotel had been silent. She guessed that surprised him. He’d looked at her a couple of times as if expecting her to say something. Not wanting her to say anything but expecting it.

  Truthfully, there was a lot Shannon had to say. The thing was that she knew none of it mattered. Whoever he was, he had more questions than she did.

  It was interesting that the woman—whoever she was, nefarious government agent, maybe—knew about Shannon’s contact. Shannon hadn’t known that the e-mails had been from Shanghai. Or even from China.

  She didn’t know anyone in China.

  Not really. She still had a few contacts from stories she’d covered over the years, but they weren’t people who’d be sending the kind of information she’d received.

  Melton Flowers would still be CEO of Solar Life, the alternative fuel R & D corporation, if it hadn’t been for the information Shannon had received and then used in her broadcast. Thomas Burke would have still been a strong contender for mayor of New York City. Paula Crenshaw would have still been head of one of the most influential public relations offices in California. Bob Hooker, whose last name ended up being fairly prophetic, would still have been a favorite son in Texas.

  Thinking back over the years of her career, there were a lot of people who had reason to hate her. So why had the China contact given her the information she’d been given?

  She’d thought about it before, but not as hard as she was thinking about now.

  Shannon felt awkward walking through the elegant hotel lobby without shoes. Thankfully, at that time of night there weren’t many people around.

  And people tended to stay away from the man she was with. He guided her to an elevator, gave a look to three young twenty-something guys who were half in the bag and wanted on the elevator but decided against it and tapped the button for the eighth floor.

  The worst part was the elevator mirror. Shannon wanted to die. Her blond hair was a mess and her clothing was rumpled. Mascara streaked her eyes. She looked as if she’d been on a month long bender.

  Looking at her reflection hurt. In the television news business, appearance was everything. The way she looked had meant a lot to Shannon even when she’d been growing up.

  At least by not looking like herself there was less likelihood of her getting picked up by the police. That wasn’t much, but it was something.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said in a cold tone that made it crystal clear she wasn’t going to discuss the matter.

  “What about your feet?”

  “My feet are fine.” Shannon looked at the floor indicator. What could possibly be taking so long?

  He leaned a hip against the wall and kept his arms folded over his chest. His face, especially with the wraparound sunglasses, looked implacable. Under the artificial lighting, the scars stood out a little more. They still carried a hint of pinkness that indicated they weren’t all that old.

  “How’s your leg?” she asked, knowing he was standing like that because he was in pain.

  “My leg’s fine.”

  So they were both natural liars.

  The elevator doors opened.

  Shannon started forward, but he grabbed her elbow and held her back.

  “Wait.” He moved forward and peered out into the hallway.

  Anxiety rattled around inside Shannon. After tonight, she wanted to feel safe. At least for a little while.

  “Okay.” He released her and stepped out into the hallway.

  “Don’t trust your friend?” Shannon taunted.

 
“I trust my friend,” he responded. “But I also know that friends don’t know everything. Her systems could be compromised.”

  “She’s not as infallible as you seem to want to believe she is?”

  He turned to her and gave her that sugary-sweet grin again. “My friend’s systems have been prowling through yours. She’s probably aware that she could have picked up some trash while she was slumming.”

  Shannon didn’t say anything.

  He sighed. “That was uncalled for. You should have cried foul on that one.”

  “It’s all right,” Shannon told him. “I was trying to punch your buttons for freezing me out on the way over here.”

  “As I recall, you weren’t talking to me,” he said.

  “You didn’t want me to talk to you.”

  “No.”

  “So the decision to talk or not to talk, ultimately, was yours. You chose not to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “There’s a lot to talk about.”

  “Okay,” he admitted as he stepped in front of a door, “there’s a lot we’re not going to talk about.”

  Shannon got the room number—817—and committed it to memory.

  He took the key card from his pants pocket and swiped it through the reader. “Step away from the door. Wait till I ask you to come in.” He waved her to the side in front of him, then slipped his hand under his shirt to rest on the pistol.

  Watching him was interesting, Shannon discovered. When he went on point, it was almost as though he channeled some predatory animal. Or maybe he flipped the script and pulled on a civilized mask when he was in polite society.

  He went through the door and it closed behind him.

  For a moment Shannon thought about just walking away. Doors opened at the elevator bank. She was fast enough to catch it before the doors closed. By the time he figured out what she’d done, she’d be long gone.

  But where would you go?

  Another moment passed, just enough time for Shannon to start getting worried about him. Then he opened the door.

  “Okay,” he said.

  The room was done in quietly understated luxury. If she’d been visiting Washington, D.C., she’d have been content to stay there.