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Scorched

Page 17

by Laura Griffin


  He reached down and snagged his T-shirt off the ground. “Sounded like a challenge. You want to give our relationship another chance, but you need to be convinced.”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “No, it’s good.” He pulled the shirt over his head. “I like a challenge.”

  She blew out an exasperated breath. “Clearly your brain is warped. It’s from being around too much macho all the time. I am not challenging you. I don’t need you to convince me of anything.”

  He scooped up the white bra that was draped over a rock. “Step one, convincing you that I care about more than just sex.” He held out the bra, and she snatched it away from him.

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Which is why—” He checked his watch. “You’re right—we don’t have time for round two. Hurry up and get dressed. We need to move.”

  • • •

  Derek sat in a corner booth with his back to the wall—the same spot Gage would have chosen if he had arrived first. Gage slid into the arc-shaped seat, which gave him a clear view of the motel lobby.

  Derek looked him over. “You look like crap.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Where’s Kelsey?”

  “Showering.”

  He arched his eyebrows.

  “I left the SIG with her.”

  A waitress appeared and Gage ordered only coffee. He’d wolfed down a breakfast sandwich half an hour ago, the minute he and Kelsey had set foot in town. After meeting up with Derek and retrieving the rental car, it hadn’t taken them long to find lodging—such as it was. Even by Gage’s standards, the motel was a dump, but the bustling metropolis of Copperville hadn’t offered a lot of options, and they’d needed a place where they could clean up and formulate a plan.

  “You’re in some serious shit, man,” Derek said now.

  “I’m aware.”

  “You aware there’s a warrant out for you?”

  Gage stared at him.

  Derek leaned back in the booth and sighed. “Didn’t think so.”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “FBI agent I know.”

  That solved one mystery. Gage had known Derek wasn’t crazy about him getting back together with Kelsey, but he’d also known his friend hadn’t come all the way here to dole out relationship advice.

  Derek watched him silently, waiting for a reaction. The waitress delivered Gage’s coffee. She topped off Derek’s cup and scuttled off.

  “Seems like you might want to get your ass back to base, clear some of this up.”

  “What am I supposed to say? Any so-called evidence they have against me is bullshit.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too, but turns out they’ve got your fingerprints.”

  Gage scoffed. “Where?”

  “Blake Reid’s apartment.”

  “That’s crap.”

  “Yeah? Well, that’s not what Christina says. Fingerprint evidence is pretty impossible to refute. I’m telling you, first thing you need to do when you get back to SD is hire a lawyer.”

  Gage stared at him. Christina was some FBI agent Derek had dated more than a year ago. She was hot, young, and aggressive—which was why Derek had dated her. But the young part meant she wasn’t that high up in the organization. Maybe she had her facts mixed up.

  “That’s got to be a mistake,” Gage said. “How could my prints turn up at his apartment?”

  “Good question.”

  “Shit, you think I did it.”

  Derek didn’t say anything.

  “You can’t be serious. I’ve never even been there.”

  Derek just looked at him.

  “I’m fucking serious.”

  Derek held up his hand. “Listen, I know you didn’t kill the guy. Jesus. But in case you forgot, I was there when you found out about him and Kelsey, and you were severely pissed. So, maybe you paid him a visit.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Hey, I don’t blame you. From what I hear, he was a first-class prick. All I’m saying is, you need to think about getting your ass back to California. And you need to think about hiring a lawyer to help you answer some of this shit before it gets out of hand.”

  Gage gritted his teeth and looked away. The lobby was clear. No new cars in the lot. He checked his watch. He’d been gone twelve minutes, and he needed to get back to Kelsey.

  He looked at Derek, who was still watching him.

  “I’ll get there,” Gage said. “But I have to go to Texas first.”

  “What the fuck’s in Texas?”

  “Kelsey’s got some stuff to take care of at the Delphi Center. I told her I’d drive her down there.”

  Derek leaned forward on his elbows. “Are you fucking aware that our leave ends in seventy-two hours? We’re wheels-up on Tuesday, and if you go UA on Hallenback, there’s not a lawyer in the world who can dig you out of that shit.”

  “I’ll handle it.”

  Derek shook his head. “Right.”

  “What’s your problem with Kelsey?”

  “I don’t have a problem with Kelsey. But the two of you together—that’s a goddamn train wreck. Have you forgotten that less than a year ago she asked you to leave the teams?”

  Gage looked away, uneasy with the memory. He’d known when he told Derek that, Kelsey would be on his blacklist forever.

  “Gage, come on.”

  He thought of the countless beers Derek had bought him in an effort to snap him out of the funk he’d been in for months now.

  “I know better than anyone how hard you busted your ass to get through BUD/S,” Derek said. “It was something you wanted since you were a kid, and you got it, and you helped me get it, too, and any woman who would ask you to walk away from that . . . Shit, she doesn’t know you. She doesn’t know you, or she wouldn’t ask.”

  Gage looked at him and felt the ball of frustration in his gut that he felt every time he thought about that damn ultimatum. There was some truth to what Derek was saying.

  But another more important truth was that a line had been crossed back at Joe’s cabin. Gage was in the thick of this now, no matter what.

  He leveled a look at Derek. “In the last week, Kelsey has been stalked, shot at, and stranded in the desert. She’s lucky to be alive. And I’m not going to California to answer charges or questions or any damn thing until the threat to her is taken out.”

  Derek watched him for a long moment. If the situation were reversed, he’d feel the same way—no question about it.

  Gage slid out of the booth. “I need to go.”

  Derek stood, too. They looked at each other.

  “Tuesday, man,” Derek said. “Don’t fuck this up.”

  • • •

  Elizabeth LeBlanc got Derek’s blood going, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the haughty attitude. Or the conservative suits. Or the prospect that a woman her size knew how to handle a serious gun. He’d been puzzling over it for days, and as he pulled into the parking lot of the Desert Rose Inn, he decided it was all of the above.

  She was standing at the entrance to Room 112 with her Glock plastered to her hip and a BlackBerry pressed to her ear. Her body language told him she was arguing with someone. He watched her for a minute, taking in the scene as crime-scene technicians streamed in and out of Gage’s abandoned motel room.

  Derek got out and slammed the door. Elizabeth glanced in his direction. Her gaze turned arctic as he sauntered over. She ended the call and shoved the phone in her pocket.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  “A little sightseeing. How’s it going?”

  “You fled the interview! I should have you arrested and charged with obstruction of justice.”

  “Hey, didn’t I warn you about snacking on the job? Gotta keep your eye on the ball, Liz. At all times.”

  She glowered up at him, and Derek’s heart gave a kick.

  “Is everything a joke to you? Do you have any idea how many man-hours have been spe
nt trying to locate this suspect?”

  “Looks like you just missed him.” Derek stepped back as a crime-scene tech passed between them carrying Gage’s battered leather work boots. He glanced into the motel room and saw another item he’d come to retrieve—the keys to Gage’s pickup—being dropped into an evidence bag.

  “Well?” Those ice-blue eyes sparked up at him. “Where is he?”

  Derek stood silent.

  “No more games. I need his current location.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that’s classified.”

  Elizabeth’s gaze narrowed, and he knew she would have liked nothing more than to scalp him right there in the parking lot. She took a deep breath.

  “Fine.” She turned her attention to the agent standing nearby. “Frost, cuff this man and put him in a vehicle.”

  Derek smiled.

  She turned her back on him and whipped out her phone.

  “Liz, come on.”

  But Frost already had the cuffs out. He took Derek’s wrists and pulled them behind his back.

  Un-fucking-believable. She was serious. Gage was going to owe him for life.

  The first bracelet clinked.

  “Hey,” he said to Elizabeth’s back. “Don’t you even want to do the honors?”

  Without a backward glance, she strode away.

  CHAPTER 13

  Marissa Ramli tipped her head back to let the sun warm her face. Another beautiful Saturday in the city she loved. A gleeful squeal reached her and she looked over at her daughter on the swing set. Leila was hanging stomach-down on the swing’s rubber seat and using her feet to twist herself in circles so she could let go and spin like a top.

  “You used to do that.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, and her sunny mood evaporated.

  “I didn’t think you’d come,” she told her brother. “You’ve stood me up twice now.”

  He walked around the bench and took a seat beside her, but not too close. Marissa skimmed her gaze over him, cataloging every detail. He wore jeans, sneakers, and a white polo, which reminded her of the preppy phase he’d gone through back in high school. He’d gained weight since she’d last seen him and trimmed his hair. But the biggest difference was his clean-shaven cheeks, which made him look like a kid.

  He stretched his arms out on the back of the bench and smiled at her. “It’s an odd thing, but anyone who disappears is said to be seen in San Francisco.”

  She eyed him curiously.

  “Oscar Wilde,” he said.

  Marissa shook her head and gazed at Leila. She was spinning again, laughing with delight, and Marissa resented her brother’s intrusion on one of their few pockets of quality time together. Every moment of the workweek was spent shuttling Leila to and from day care, putting in long hours, and catching up on chores at night. Outings to the park were strictly reserved for weekends.

  Until recently.

  She took a deep breath. “What do you want, Adam?”

  “Just checking in.”

  She gave him a sour look because they both knew that was a lie. She picked up the purse at her feet and took an envelope from it.

  He frowned as she handed it to him. “What’s this?”

  “It’s from Mom.”

  “You talk to Mom?” He definitely sounded surprised to hear that.

  “Only occasionally. She calls on Leila’s birthday.” She paused. “Which was last month.”

  Did her brother even know his niece’s birthday? Probably not. She glanced at him as he thumbed through the bills.

  “Three hundred dollars,” she said.

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Just keep it, okay? It’ll make her feel better.”

  “You keep it.” He tucked it back in her purse. “Buy something for Leila.”

  Marissa simmered. Fine, she would keep it. She was up to her neck in bills. Groceries and gasoline and ballet lessons didn’t come free in this town. But she loved it here, had since she’d first arrived at the ridiculously young age of twenty. She never wanted to leave. She wanted to raise her daughter here, and she planned to work her fingers to the bone to make that possible.

  She looked at her brother now. “She worries about you, you know.”

  He glanced away, toward the chess players who liked to gather at Sandburg Park. Marissa remembered her father and brother playing chess another lifetime ago. Her father had been good, but Adam had been better. Always ten moves ahead.

  “I worry about you.”

  He looked at her. “That is energy wasted.”

  Another lie. She was getting annoyed now.

  “What brings you to town?” she asked. Her stomach knotted as she awaited the answer.

  “Business.”

  The knot tightened. She gazed out at her daughter and felt a wave of bitterness. In four short weeks he’d managed to turn her life upside down. He was the reason she couldn’t sleep at night. He was the reason her nails were bitten down to the quick. He was the reason she’d spent her last three lunch hours race-walking to the public library to use the computer, because she was afraid of the one at her own desk. Her own desk. She couldn’t even be comfortable at work now.

  She looked at her brother. Did he have any idea that she’d spent the past week researching David Kaczynski? Did he have any idea how much legal wrangling that man had gone through to save his brother from the death penalty? As it was, the Unabomber would be spending life in prison because David Kaczynski had hired a top lawyer to negotiate with the FBI before turning his brother in. Marissa couldn’t afford a top lawyer. And she sure as hell didn’t want her name, and Leila’s name, to go down in history in connection with a monster.

  But Adam was oblivious to her turmoil because the prospect of her turning him in had clearly never entered his mind. All their lives, they’d trusted each other. He trusted her now.

  What he didn’t seem to realize was that this thing—whatever it was—was a bit different from him covering for her so she could sneak out of the house and meet her boyfriend.

  “What do you want, Adam?” she said, and heard the tremor in her voice. He wasn’t here for money, obviously. And he couldn’t possibly think she’d help him in any way.

  “I need a favor.” He looked at her with calm dark eyes, and she felt a shiver of fear. “It’s very simple, really.”

  • • •

  It was high noon when Elizabeth finally emerged from the motel lobby. Her gait was as businesslike as ever, but her eyes looked tired. She walked over to the car where Derek had been sitting for the past four hours, listening to Frost clack away on his laptop.

  She opened the door and waited.

  Derek slid out. He shook his stiff legs as Frost buzzed down the window and reached over from the driver’s seat to hand her a key.

  “You know, it’s a good thing I like handcuffs,” he said.

  She took his arm. With a quick snick, she removed the cuffs.

  “You’re free to go,” she said, then turned and passed a crisply folded paper through the window to Frost. “Your itinerary. I booked you on the four-thirty to San Diego.”

  Derek flexed his hands. Then he planted them on his hips and glared down at her.

  “That’s all?”

  “I said, you’re free to leave.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Unless, of course, you want to tell me where Lieutenant Brewer is. Won’t save my ass, but it would help the investigation.”

  Derek looked her up and down. Some of her hair had come loose from her ponytail and the sleeves of her white blouse were rolled up. The middle button had come undone, but it looked as if she’d been too busy to notice.

  “That’s what I thought.” She ducked her head down and peered into the car at Frost. “You want anything from the vending machine before we go? I’m going to grab a Coke.”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  She turned away, but Derek caught her arm.

  “Where are you going?”

&
nbsp; “Salt Lake City.” She shook off his grip. “I’ve got a five-fifteen flight to San Antonio.”

  “What’s in San Antonio?”

  “My home office. I’ve been pulled off the case.” Something flickered in her eyes, and he could have sworn it was shame.

  “So that’s it?” he asked.

  “That’s it.” She brushed a lock of hair out of her face and gazed up at him. “That’s what happens when you drop the ball one too many times. You get benched.” She looked off into the distance. “But, hey, I’m lucky I didn’t get fired.”

  He felt a surge of annoyance. Four damn hours he’d spent in the back of that car, cooling his heels and absorbing the air-conditioning just so she could prove a point. Why the hell should he feel bad about this? He shouldn’t. If she’d been better at her job, they wouldn’t even be here. And he was supposed to be on leave, for Christ’s sake. Instead, he’d spent the past three days tangled up with this woman. It made no sense, but he couldn’t seem to untangle himself.

  “I’ll drive you to the airport.” He took his keys from his pocket and watched the shock come over her face. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Uh, thanks, but no.”

  “Why not?”

  She shook her head and jerked the car door open. “You know something? You SEALs, you have so much pride about this loyalty you have for each other, but you take it too far.”

  “Is that right?”

  “That’s right. Your friend is wanted for murder, Derek, not a fraternity prank.”

  “Gage didn’t murder anyone.”

  She tossed her head. “He had motive, means, and opportunity, and his prints were recovered from the crime scene.”

  “That doesn’t mean he did it. This thing is a setup.”

  She scoffed. “How would you know?”

  “Because I know Gage. I know him better than I know my own brother. Look at your evidence again. You guys got something wrong. And meanwhile, while y’all are busy chasing your tails, the person who really did this is getting away with it.”

  She shook her head and looked away. “Blinders. It’s amazing.”

  He waited for her to meet his gaze again.

  “Let me take you to the airport.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “God, you’re stubborn.”

 

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