Dark 'N' Deadly (Federal K-9)

by Tee O'Fallon

  Matt had been carrying around a lot of baggage, but since marrying Trista nearly two years ago, he was more lighthearted than Eric had ever seen him. Matt’s baby, Little Joe, was close to a year old, while Nick and Andi’s new baby, Rose, was a few months younger.

  Nick’s eyes lit up as he handed Matt his baby’s photo. Nick had nearly been killed last year when a gun dealer had shot him in the chest. From all outward appearances, he’d fully recovered, and judging from the way the man’s biceps and chest filled out his shirt, he was back in fighting form.

  “Get a load of these guys.” Kade jerked his thumb to where Matt and Nick oohed and ahhed over each other’s pictures. “They are so whipped.”

  Eric snorted. Like him, Kade and Dayne were still single, but as he eyed his other two friends, he began to feel like an outsider, as if he were losing touch with Nick and Matt. They were happier than he’d ever seen them, and there was no doubting the reason. Their wives and their babies.

  Watching these hardnosed cops grinning like they’d just discovered the Holy Grail left him feeling… What?

  Envious.

  After a lifetime of swearing off marriage and kids, he wanted what Matt and Nick had. He couldn’t pinpoint when his views had changed, but changed they had.

  “You okay?” Dayne rested a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get through this.”

  “Yeah.” He took a swig of coffee then pointed to the plastic case Matt had set on the table. “Is that it?”

  Matt set down his mug. “Yep.” He unsnapped the heavy clips and flipped open the case’s lid. Nestled safely in gray foam padding were a small digital monitor and a syringe.

  “Dayne filled us in.” Nick’s expression screamed skepticism. “This is one crazy-ass plan.”

  “She won’t like it.” Eric eyed the needle with extreme trepidation. “But it’s the best we could come up with.”

  Deftly, Matt plucked the syringe from the case.

  Damn, he hated needles.

  …

  Tess dug into her pile of clothes, undecided. What did one wear to a meeting with one’s homicidal stepfather?

  Whatever the hell I want.

  Settling on a royal-blue V-neck T-shirt, a pair of beige cotton capris, and matching slip-on flats, she dressed then fished in her bag for the penknife and shoved it in her pocket. Couldn’t hurt to have a little added protection, and if there was ever a time to be extra cautious, it was now. Her life depended on it, and Jesse was depending on her.

  She closed her eyes and swallowed the twin lumps of grief and guilt clogging her throat. This time, I’ll be there for you. I promise. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she stepped into the hallway and closed the door to her bedroom.

  Her bedroom.

  Funny how she’d begun to think of it that way, especially considering that, one way or the other, last night was her final night under Eric’s roof. No sense dwelling on circumstances she couldn’t change and wouldn’t begin to know how to fix. The best she could hope for was that tonight she’d be sleeping in her own bed, in her own apartment back in Springfield, and Jesse would be snoring away on her sofa.

  Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d barely eaten in the last twenty-four hours. She was so on edge, there was no way she could possibly stomach any food. What she needed was coffee, lots of it to make up for getting little sleep. Every time she’d drifted off last night, her mind had gone in opposite directions. One to the sweet moments she and Eric had spent making love. The other to the immense disappointment that plagued her thoughts now.

  I hurt him, badly, and I was wrong about so many things. But he hurt me, too.

  She could never be with a man who pre-judged her based upon her past. What she needed was a blank slate with someone who didn’t know where she came from and, most importantly, one who could love her. For so many reasons, Eric could never be that man.

  Voices drifted up the stairs, one of which sounded decidedly like—

  Tess flew down the stairs, stopping short in the kitchen doorway and confirming her suspicion. “Nick!” She flung herself into Nick’s arms, nearly bursting into tears at how good it was to see him. Since he’d married Andi, Nick had become her best male confidant.

  “It’s good to see you, Red.” Nick winked a gray eye, and she smiled at the affectionate nickname he’d begun calling her. He held her a moment longer then set her on her feet. “I won’t start in on you for not telling Andi and me what was going on down here.” He cut Eric a stern look. “You, either.”

  Eric watched Nick from narrowed eyes, his body radiating a curious tension.

  Tiger insinuated himself between the two men, his muscles quivering as he watched Eric, and she understood what the dog was doing. Tiger sensed Eric’s unease and wanted to be nearby to intervene if necessary.

  What the hell is that about? The two men were closer than peas in a pod.

  Wordlessly, Eric rested his hand on Tiger’s head.

  “Andi’s worried sick about you.” Nick tugged on one of her curls. “So am I.”

  “Thanks for the guilt trip.” Although secretly, she was glad to have friends who cared about her. It was another aspect of her teenage years Harley had stolen. Friends. “That’s exactly why I didn’t call. I didn’t want to worry you, and there was nothing you could have done.”

  “Nothing?” He clasped her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “We could have been there for you. That’s what families do, and we’re your family.”

  Her eyes began tearing at the sincerity of his words. Given how messed up her family life had been, she couldn’t possibly have known about the support they could provide during difficult times.

  “Thank you, Nick.” As she said the words, she found Eric eyeing his friend with a decidedly annoyed glint in his eyes. “That means a lot to me.”

  The instant Nick dropped his hands from her shoulders, her world suddenly felt lonely again. Springfield was Nick and Andi’s home. It was where their life was, not hers. Flemington was the only place that ever called to her heart. But Eric was there, and she couldn’t bear the thought of being so geographically close to him while being so emotionally far away.

  “Hi, Tess.” Matt reached out to give her a quick hug. “You may not remember me. We met once at the Dog Park Café, and then at the hospital when doofus here”—he jerked his thumb at Nick—“threw himself in front of a bullet.”

  “Butthead,” Nick shot back.

  “Of course, I remember you.” Matt and his pretty wife, Trista, had been at the hospital nearly every day while Nick was recovering. She turned to the giant of a man standing next to Dayne, leaning in to give him a quick hug. “Hi, Kade.”

  Kade’s hazel eyes were warm as he grinned. Like the rest of Nick’s friends, he’d been to the hospital to see Nick, but she’d forgotten the man had two of the most adorable dimples ever to grace such a masculine face.

  She turned next to Dayne, who’d been leaning against the granite counter, quietly sipping coffee. Since her no-holds barred tell-all yesterday, there was a measured look of understanding in his gaze.

  “Along with that thing I told you last night not to doubt,” Dayne said, “we’ve got your back. Don’t ever doubt that, either.”

  Those twin lumps of grief re-formed in the back of her throat. Despite Dayne’s reassuring words, she did doubt what he’d said about Eric last night. Eric’s hard face confirmed it.

  He’ll never understand, and he’ll never forgive.

  “What thing?” Eric asked.

  “Thank you. All of you,” she said, ignoring his probing question. “I realize you’re just doing your jobs, but—” She swallowed as the lumps in her throat got bigger. “I appreciate you being here for Jesse and me.”

  “You’re welcome,” Matt said. “You can thank Eric for calling us.”

  Eric watched her silently, his expression guarded. There was no way to know what was going on inside his head. He cleared his throat. “Let’s get to it.”

 
; “Right.” Matt picked up an odd-looking silver gun from a plastic case she hadn’t noticed before.

  She stepped closer to get a better look. “What is that thing?” It didn’t look remotely like any gun she’d ever seen before.

  “It’s a subcutaneous injector syringe.” Matt gave the case an affectionate pat. “A little gift from the CIA.”

  “A gift?” Warning crept up her spine. “It looks like an evil ray gun from a science fiction movie.”

  “It is. Kind of.” Matt chuckled, which did nothing to set her mind at ease. “When Eric called late last night and explained the situation, I thought of this little beauty. Given whom you’ll be dealing with, you’ll probably be checked for a wire, but they’ll never find this tracker. Without a wand specifically designed for this unit, it’s completely undetectable. When I inject it beneath your skin, you’ll barely feel it.”

  Five sets of male eyes looked at her.

  “Whoa.” She held up both her hands. “You are not sticking that thing in me.”

  “Yes, he is.” Eric moved behind her, urging her to sit in the chair beside Matt, but she resisted his efforts, pushing backward against his chest, which had other undesirable effects. Like pressing her flush against his warm body and breathing his freshly showered scent into her lungs. “Tess.” He turned her in his arms. “If we get separated, I’ll have no way to find you unless you’re wearing a tracker, and this is the only way Gant can’t detect one. Please,” he added, his features softening.

  “Okay,” she replied, but couldn’t stop eyeing the injector gun in Matt’s hand as if it were a snake about to strike.

  He set the gun back in the case, rolled up her sleeve to her shoulder, then tore open a small packet and took out a wet gauze that he rubbed several times over the meaty part of her upper arm.

  She bit her lip. This is crazy.

  Behind her, Eric surprised her by resting his hands on her shoulders and massaging them gently, reminding her of all the other wonderful things his hands had once done to her body.

  Tiger plunked his muzzle on top of her thigh, looking up at her with big, sympathetic eyes. The dog probably had no idea what was going on, only that she was in dire need of comfort.

  “I hear you whip up a mean tofu burger,” Dayne said. “Maybe you’ll make one for me someday.”

  “You’re kidding. You actually eat tofu?” She laughed then felt a tiny sting on her arm.

  “All done.” Matt pressed a clean gauze to her arm. “Just hold that there for a minute.”

  “That’s it?” Can’t be. She’d barely felt a thing. “You did it already?”

  He nodded. “When this is over, I’ll remove it just as easily.”

  “Wow.” She lifted the gauze for a second to inspect the injection site, but it was barely visible. To her dismay, Eric’s hands left her shoulders and he quickly returned to the other side of the table. He probably can’t stand being near me.

  Dayne chuckled, sharing a conspiratorial look with Eric. Only then did she understand. Eric hadn’t been touching her because he wanted to. He’d only been distracting her while Matt stuck her with that needle. Doing her best not to dwell on the truth, she narrowed her eyes on Dayne. “You don’t really eat tofu, do you?”

  Dayne laughed openly. “Not a chance.”

  She laughed with him, releasing some of her tension. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  “How does something so tiny transmit?” Kade asked. “What’s the power source?”

  “Radiation,” Matt answered matter-of-factly.

  “Are you serious?” she practically shouted. “You did not just inject me with something radioactive.”

  “Relax.” He tucked the dastardly injector-gun back into the case. “It’s a minuscule amount from a non-harmful isotope. But it has limitations.”

  “Such as?” Eric narrowed his eyes.

  “A small radius—about half a mile—and it won’t last more than four hours.”

  Resigned, she gave Matt a weak smile. “Will I at least glow in the dark so you can find me?”

  “I doubt it.” He winked. “Remember, Cinderella, you’ve only got four hours. After that, the tracker goes dead.”

  “Got it.” In more ways than one.

  Her stomach rumbled again, but not from lack of food. This time, it was from outright fear. If the tracker went dead, no one would know where to find her. If they couldn’t find her, they didn’t stand a chance of rescuing Jesse. Which meant they would both be dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Eric turned off Main Street onto the rural road that would take them to the mansion. Behind them, his friends and their K-9s followed at a safe distance. A few other marked and unmarked units were already staged near the house to back them up, if needed, and to secure the location if they got PC to search the house.

  Tess sat beside him, occasionally chewing on her bottom lip and fingering the beaded fringe of the scarf around her neck. It was the one he’d bought her in town. For someone about to walk into an F5 shitstorm that would make the average hurricane seem like an inconsequential blip on the radar, she was relatively calm. Scary calm.

  Dayne had hit the mark when he’d said she had a serious pair, for a woman or a man. She might be only five-two and about a hundred and ten pounds, but she had the heart of a lioness.

  Tiger’s muzzle rested on his right shoulder, the dog’s warm breath tickling his neck. They often drove that way, particularly when Tiger sensed Eric was tense.

  Tense?

  It was a joke to use that word to describe what he was feeling because it barely skimmed the surface.

  When they arrived at the house, he’d be mere feet away from Harley Gant without being able to lay so much as a hand on him. As he imagined snapping cuffs on the man, his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Given what he was thinking, he could only imagine the turmoil in Tess’s mind. Facing that bastard again after all these years wasn’t going to be easy.

  Damn, I’ve been a fool. An insensitive idiot for not understanding what she’d been through. For not forgiving.

  To keep from punching out the window, he gripped the wheel tighter.

  Tiger’s intelligent gaze met his in the rearview mirror. His dog watched him expectantly, as if he understood what was in Eric’s head and was waiting for him to act on it.

  A deer leaped onto the road, and he slowed the Interceptor. There was so much he wanted to say, but this was hardly the time. Besides, he didn’t know exactly what he would say. For starters, how ’bout sorry I was a total dickhead?

  She was staring out the passenger window, focusing on the side view mirror. “Do you really think this plan will work?” she asked in a tight voice.

  After braking at a four-way stop, he didn’t immediately step on the gas. “I honestly don’t know.” The only thing he was sure of was that somehow, Tess and Jesse had become sacrificial lambs in all this.

  If necessary, sacrifice the few to save the many.

  That’s what the brass had said to him before they’d finalized the plan last night.

  Not if I can help it.

  She shifted to face him. “I’m scared to death of what he’ll do to Jesse. We betrayed him, and he won’t forgive that. He doesn’t have it in him. He’ll see it as mutiny.”

  “It’s not a great plan,” he admitted. “But between all of us escorting you to the front door, plus the other teams stationed nearby and a chopper in the air, you’ll be safe.” Until she walked through the front door.

  He raked a hand through his hair. Then she’ll be alone.

  Right at that moment, he didn’t know who he was angrier at, Gant—or himself.

  As he made the final turn onto the street leading to the house, he caught sight of the anxious expression on her face and clasped her hand, threading his fingers with hers. He gave her hand a quick squeeze then released it and shifted his focus back to the road.

  A minute later, they arrived.

  Even though
he’d pored over details of the location for tactical disadvantages, seeing it in real life now sent simultaneous jolts of anticipation and anxiety coursing through his system. Inside that house was the man responsible for murdering his friends. The prospect of seeing Gant again fanned the embers of revenge that, over time, had been reduced to a soft glow. Now, those flames flickered to life, whipping back and forth, luring him closer to the goal he’d been after for a very long time.

  They turned in the driveway, and more of what he already knew was confirmed. The mansion was a three-story brick structure, complete with two turrets, giving it a castle-like appearance. Situated in the middle of a grassy plot, and with no apple trees for a good hundred feet all around, he guessed Gant had chosen it for strategic reasons. There’d be no sneaking up on him from any direction. Not with all the cameras attached to the facade. Which meant…

  They know we’re here.

  There was no telling how many goons were inside with Gant.

  Twenty feet from the front door, he stopped the SUV and shifted it into park. As planned, his friends parked their vehicles in a semicircle facing the front door.

  Woof. Tiger paced back and forth in the kennel, leaving Eric wondering if his dog had already scented explosive material wafting through the vents.

  “Easy, boy.” When Tiger thrust his head through the opening, panting, he stroked the dog’s head, trying to calm him, but it didn’t work. Tiger was becoming more agitated by the second.

  “Ready?” he said to Tess, but she didn’t answer him. “Tess?” He touched her shoulder to find she was trembling. It was slight, but it was there. “You okay?” Slowly, she nodded, but he wasn’t convinced.

  Dayne, Matt, Nick, and Kade stood nearby with their K-9s, awaiting his direction. Eric held up his hand, indicating he needed a few minutes.

  “Remember, if something goes wrong, you get out of there, and you get out fast.” He waited for her nod of understanding. “If I don’t see you walking out that door in fifteen minutes, I’m coming in after you.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She smiled or at least tried to. Her selfless attempt to put him at ease after the way he’d treated her floored him. If he weren’t sitting, he’d have fallen to his knees.