by Tee O'Fallon
Someone clearing their throat had Eric turn to find Joe Eden standing in the doorway next to Dayne. In his hand were several sheets of paper.
“Remember that offline search you had me keep running for stolen or missing nitromethane?” Eden asked.
“Yeah.” Eric eyed the documents Eden was holding. Things were about to get worse.
“We got a hit.” He held out the sheets. “It came in an hour ago.”
Eric grabbed them, scanning them quickly. The snowball of shit they were facing had just gotten a whole lot bigger.
He glanced at Dayne. “The drag strip in Englishtown filed a police report for missing nitromethane. The PD thinks it was a guy who worked at the Flemington Speedway.”
Dayne cursed under his breath. “How much?”
“Six full barrels.”
“Jesus,” Dayne whispered.
“What does that mean?” Tess asked, looking first at Dayne, then Eric.
“It means”—Eric clenched the sheets in his fist—“whatever size bomb they’re building could be big enough to take out half a city.”
…
Tess woke with a start to find Tiger standing on the far end of the sofa, circling on the cushion, trying to find room to lie down.
“Hi, Tiger.” She tucked in her legs and patted the cushion, urging him to snuggle against her.
Hours earlier, Eric had escorted her to a small break room in the back of the ATF office to wait while he and Dayne met with their supervisors. A quick check of her cell phone told her she’d been sleeping for several hours and it was nearly midnight. The sandwich Agent Eden had brought her sat untouched on the nearby table.
With a throaty hmpf of gratitude, Tiger flopped down beside her, resting his head on her hip. Dogs had an uncanny way of inherently knowing when their love and companionship was needed. It was definitely needed now.
Rising on one elbow, she stroked his velvety ears. Almost immediately, an unexpected sense of peace enfolded her. Tiger tilted his head to give her better access to one particular spot behind his right ear that he loved having massaged. Happy to comply, she swirled her fingers against the soft coat and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure, confirming she’d found just the right place.
“He’ll never forgive me.” Tiger flicked his ears, listening in that silent way only dogs could. “I don’t blame him. I just wish… I wish…”
“Wish what?” Dayne asked from where he now leaned against the refrigerator.
She’d been so self-absorbed she hadn’t heard him come in. Like Eric, for such a big man, he moved as silently as a spider.
“That I could do most of my life over again,” she answered honestly. Especially the part where she’d lied to Eric about Harley. Although, the more she went over and over that moment in her mind, she’d made the right choice at the time. Helping Jesse out of a jam had been all that mattered. Then. Now, Eric mattered to her, too. As did the countless lives she might have unwittingly put in terrible jeopardy.
“Join the club.” He pulled a chair from the table, spinning it around before straddling it and resting his forearms on the seat back. “I thought my childhood was twisted. Yours makes mine seem like Disneyland.”
For the first time since meeting Eric’s darkly handsome, brooding friend, Tess sensed a soft side to the man. His sharp green eyes had always conveyed wariness and censure, yet his expression now was discernibly sympathetic.
I don’t deserve his sympathy. I don’t deserve anyone’s sympathy.
She pushed to a sitting position, and Tiger groaned at the disturbance until she resumed massaging his ears.
“Do you think he’s right? Did we really endanger people by not telling you and Eric about Harley?”
Dayne’s dark brows bunched. “Don’t know for sure. Eric already had a pretty good idea who was behind those drums. Had we known earlier—I doubt we would have done much differently.”
“If I’d told you,” she countered, “you might have had eyes on Harley and Pritchard earlier.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Don’t kill yourself over what-ifs.”
“I’ll never forgive myself if that bomb goes off before you find it.”
“If it does, it won’t be your fault. It’ll be Gant’s fault, and the fault of the people who follow his warped rule of morality. Keep it real and don’t forget that.”
She shook her head, still feeling guilty. “It’s hard to do that.”
Tiger’s rumbly snores had her turning to see the dog’s eyelids flicker. Doors opening and closing filtered into the break room. Part of her yearned to see Eric again, while the other part was disappointed that he hadn’t understood. No matter how much she’d explained her actions, he would never be capable of forgiving her. He hated Harley and would always see her as being tainted, soiled by her affiliation with him.
“We’re just about done. You can leave your car here for the night. Eric’s making one last phone call, then he’ll take you home.”
“Home?” She’d assumed there was no way he’d want to be anywhere near her. “He hates me.”
Dayne surprised her by chuckling. “He cares about you.”
She shook her head. “I doubt that.”
“I’m not wrong.”
She slanted him a skeptical look. “How do you know?”
“Whatever he’s feeling, it’s not hatred. Probably the opposite.”
“How do you figure that?” Because she couldn’t. Not in a million years.
“You hurt him. That’s how I know. Eric doesn’t hurt easily. Emotionally, he’s got a steel backbone. The entire time I’ve known him, the only person who ever hurt him is you. But your motives were well intentioned. You were protecting your little brother. Revenge is one of the strongest motivating forces there is, and it’s been at the forefront of Eric’s mind for a very long time. His friends died right in front of him. He needed closure and he never got it. When that moment happens for him, then he’ll be able to think clearly.”
“If only that were true,” she whispered.
“Don’t doubt what I said. He already knows you went through hell just like we did.” Dayne’s beautiful emerald eyes went hard then he shifted his focus to the floor, as if he was recalling something—a memory—that he didn’t much like.
Like we did?
She didn’t know Dayne had suffered in his life. In the few days she’d known him, the man had barely spoken to her. He was a man of few words, one with a cold, granite-like exterior that kept people from invading his personal space. Maybe she and Dayne were more alike than she’d realized, and that was why he could understand.
“Thank you,” she said, amused when his startled gaze flicked back to hers.
“For what?” A corner of his mouth lifted.
“For the talk.” She grinned and was rewarded with a dazzling white smile that completely shocked her. “So, what’s your story? Did you have psycho parents, too?”
The smile on his face faded. His jaw went hard again, and his eyes darkened, reminding her of the murky depths of the lakes she used to fish in Alabama. Whatever the man’s childhood, it couldn’t have been pretty.
Tiger lifted his head, his body rigid as he stared at the empty doorway. A second later, Eric came in. His hair was completely mussed, and his eyes were tired. “The judge wouldn’t sign the warrant.”
Tess sat up straighter. “For Harley’s arrest?”
“No.” He rubbed his eyes. “We definitely don’t have enough PC—probable cause—to arrest him. Yet,” he added. “We can’t prove he had anything to do with the ammonium nitrate Jesse drove to New Jersey, and we have no evidence that Jesse was taken against his will.”
“I don’t understand. With everything I told you, why isn’t that enough?” Not that she knew much about probable cause required to arrest someone, but she’d hoped—no, prayed—they could arrest Harley on the spot.
“All the drums have legal quantities of AN. Without any other components, it’s just fertilizer, and those drum
s haven’t moved.”
“What about the stolen nitromethane and the explosives out of Montana?” Dayne asked. “Doesn’t the judge understand the significance of all this happening at the same time?”
“He does, but he’s a stickler for procedure, and we have no evidence connecting Harley, Pritchard, or anyone else with the theft. There were no witnesses, no cameras, and we don’t even know where the nitro or explosives are located.”
“Then how do we handle this tomorrow?” Dayne asked.
Eric sat on the edge of the sofa, so close that she could smell the remnants of his aftershave and the soap he’d used on her naked body after they’d made love in the shower. Her heart constricted as she remembered how his hands had stroked her wet skin and how he’d kissed her before taking her so thoroughly and completely against the shower wall.
He held up the folded piece of paper she’d given him. Nothing in his demeanor gave her any indication whatsoever that her nearness was affecting him in the slightest. “The address Gant gave you is a brick mansion sitting in the middle of twenty acres of old apple orchards. It’s for sale and up until three days ago vacant. We sent teams there tonight to watch the place from a distance. There are no vehicles outside, but there’s a three-car garage and the lights are on inside the house.”
Dayne pointed to the paper. “Considering who owns that house, I’m not surprised Gant’s using it.”
Her fingers stilled on Tiger’s ears. “Why? Who owns it?”
“Vincent Mangano.” Dayne readjusted his forearms on the back of the chair. “A mob boss who’s been in prison for the last five years. The FBI investigated him for nearly a decade before nailing him on racketeering charges. I bet that house could tell some stories. There were rumors it was a hidey-hole for all kinds of illegal things, but they were just that. Rumors. We never did get a search warrant for the place.”
“And we’re not there yet.” Eric raked a hand through his hair. “After tomorrow, we might be. The judge said that if an explosives K-9 hits on the place he’ll sign the warrant.”
“How will you get an explosives dog close enough without Harley knowing it?” Tess asked.
“I have no intention of hiding.” Eric’s lips curved into a crafty smile. “When you go to meet Gant, Tiger and I are walking in the door with you.”
“It won’t work,” she warned. “I told you already, he specified that he won’t let me set foot inside the door if anyone comes with me.”
“Then we’ll be right outside the front door in plain sight.”
“But—”
“No buts.” Eric got in her face, leaning down so close he could have kissed her if he wanted to. She knew he didn’t. “If he wants you so badly—and it’s clear that he does—he’ll have to deal with half a dozen armed agents on his front lawn. That’s my part of the deal, and that’s not open to negotiation.”
For an instant, his gaze lowered to her mouth. Her pulse ticked faster. Please, please kiss me. Hold me, do something so I know you still care.
He jerked back as if she’d slapped him. When his eyes shuttered, she understood precisely what was happening. He needed to widen the physical and emotional barriers between them. He was slowly, painfully slipping from her life.
Get real, girl. He’s already gone.
“Tiger, hier!” he practically yelled as he headed out the door.
Tiger hopped off the sofa, pausing to nudge her hand with his wet nose before following Eric.
When she stood, Dayne rose and dropped an arm across her shoulders, urging her into the hallway. “Have faith. He’ll come around.”
She wouldn’t have believed that her heart could sink any lower, but it did. Even if he did somehow manage to “come around” as Dayne assured her he would, she’d be long gone by then.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Eric leaned against the wall outside Tess’s bedroom. The shower had come on a few minutes earlier, so he knew she was awake.
The drive home the night before had passed in silence, then they’d slept in separate beds. If one could actually call tossing and turning and punching the pillow into submission out of sheer frustration for hours “sleep.”
He straightened and dragged a hand down his face. Before she’d shown up at the office yesterday, he’d already figured it out. When she’d said those fateful words—he’s my stepfather—mind numbing reality had slapped him in the face and left a mark that would never go away.
Tiger stood beside him, his head hung low as he looked up with accusatory eyes, as if Eric—not Tess—had been the one to lie and deceive.
“Hey, buddy.” He reached out to stroke his dog’s ears, but Tiger backed away, uttering a huff that might as well have articulated the words: You should forgive her. After watching him a second longer, his dog turned and disappeared down the stairs.
He stared after Tiger, wondering if his K-9 was right, then laughed inwardly. His dog was never wrong about explosives, and he was never wrong about people. Am I wrong?
Tess had lied about something she knew damn well was vitally important to him. On the other hand, there were always two sides to any argument, and she was right about one thing.
If he’d known about Jesse’s ties to Gant, the kid would never have gotten off so easily. Fact was, the prosecutor wouldn’t have let him off at all.
It wasn’t Tess and Jesse’s fault their mother married a sick, narcissistic psychopath. Tess had gone through hell, and if she hadn’t escaped… Fuuuck. No woman should be subjected to that. Gant and Pritchard were lower than pig shit, and he wanted to rip their heads off with his bare hands.
Tess was an amazing woman. She’d left home with nothing. No family. No friends. No money. Somehow, she’d not only survived against all odds but gotten her GED, begun studying for her masters, and become the most incredible person he’d ever met. He really didn’t know what to think or feel anymore. His emotions where she was concerned were so tied up with his quest for revenge.
A shaft of early morning sunlight glinted off the framed photo on the wall, the one taken of him and his friends at FLETC on graduation day. They’d celebrated until they’d been drunk off their asses and could barely see straight. Now, when he thought of them, the only images that came to him were of the truck exploding and the flames engulfing their bodies as he was hurled backward.
Today, he might finally get his revenge. But at what cost? He was sending Tess back into the lion’s den. If anything happened to her, the blame would fall squarely on his shoulders. For the first time since the explosion, getting revenge didn’t seem quite so important anymore.
Last night, they’d both said hurtful things, and nothing could change that. He and Tess had scars inflicted by Gant, and the bastard was still slicing and dicing them both wide open. The man was evil personified, destroying more lives than Eric had realized. He’d destroyed Tess and Jesse’s.
Not if I can help it.
With renewed determination, he went downstairs, heading into the kitchen to make Tiger’s breakfast and a full pot of coffee. Tiger stood by his bowl, whipping his tail back and forth, his eyes bright with expectation. As he went to the refrigerator, the vase of flowers Tess had brought into the house caught his eye. The petals were wilting and brown, some littering the table.
Would he ever see another vase of flowers in his house or inhale the scent of lavender from one of Tess’s healing candles again? Without her and Jesse in it, his house and his life would be empty.
Just get through the day. Maybe they could figure the rest out later.
He yanked open the refrigerator door, rattling the condiment bottles. He prepped Tiger’s breakfast then put on a pot of coffee to brew. Slurping, munching sounds came from the corner of the kitchen where Tiger was making quick work of his food.
Four SUVs pulled alongside the curb in front of his house. He glanced at his watch. Six a.m. Right on time.
He set six mugs on the counter by the coffeemaker then went to the door and opened it. Matt Conno
rs stood on the top step, carrying a hard-sided plastic case in his hand. Behind him were his other friends, Nick Houston, Kade Sampson, and Dayne. All wore dark cargo uniform pants and polo shirts with their respective agencies’ embroidered gold badge on the shirt. CIA, Massachusetts State Police, Homeland Security, and FBI.
“Damn, Miller,” Matt said. “You look like shit.”
Eric pursed his lips. “Back atcha, bro.” Then he grinned and gave his friend a giant bear hug, lifting him several inches off the ground. Considering Matt was about six-three and over two hundred pounds, that was no easy feat.
“Eric.” Nick came next, shaking his hand and clapping him on the back, followed by Kade, who did the same.
“Where are Markus and Jaime?” Eric asked.
“Don’t know.” Kade frowned. “Wherever they are, they’re not answering their phones. They’ve gone dark.”
Eric raised his brows. Markus was known to disappear on them, often for months at a time. Jaime, however, was the all-time poster child for staying in touch.
“They’ll turn up,” Kade reassured him. “They always do.”
“Hope so,” Eric muttered.
Dayne took up the rear, closing the door behind him. “Your girl up yet?” He nodded to the stairs.
“She’s in the sho—” Your girl? Was she his? No. She’d never really been his, and she definitely wasn’t now. So why were Dayne’s eyes glinting with amusement and the rest of his friends staring at him with shit-eating grins on their faces? “Tess”—he glared at Dayne—“is in the shower.”
Kade’s grin widened. “Oookay.”
“Is that coffee I smell?” Nick asked, rescuing Eric from more chiding.
“Yeah. It is.” Eric scowled at Dayne and Kade, then led the way into the kitchen and began pouring coffee.
He handed Matt and Nick their mugs first, noting the gold wedding bands on their fingers. He’d expected them to dig right into their coffee, but they set their mugs on the table then whipped out their phones and began comparing baby pictures.