Enigma

by Dee Davis

  “I’ll call Gabe,” Payton said, already walking toward the phone.

  Sam nodded, still studying the fragment in her hand, then her mind caught up with the conversation. “Wait.”

  Payton turned, his gaze quizzical.

  “Better use the phone in the other room. I’m sure this one is fine. But no sense taking chances.”

  His smile was crooked as he walked back toward her, stopping to give her a kiss. “Thanks for watching out for me.”

  “It wasn’t about you, believe me.” She smiled, her teasing tone matching his. “I just didn’t want to clean up the mess.”

  “Nah, you’d miss me.” He turned to go, and she realized with gut-wrenching surety that he was right.

  “Make sure Gabe sends a full technical team. I want this room gone over with a fine-toothed comb. If there’s something here to identify this guy, I want to find it.”

  “Sam?” Payton had stopped in the middle of the room, bending to pick something up. “You recognize this?”

  She glanced down at the thing in his palm, her heart stuttering to a stop. It was roughly the size of a golf ball, its painted face still intact, its little hat frayed and crooked. “Oh my God.” She took a step away from it, waving her hand as if she could make it disappear. “It’s Jack. My Jack.”

  The little clown had been her best friend for three quarters of her life. The sound of the music and his jaunty pop always making her laugh, no matter how bleak her life might have seemed. He’d seen her through the ups and downs of childhood, the angst of adolescence, the insecurities of young adulthood, and then he’d gone—just like her father.

  “It isn’t your Jack, Sam.” Payton reached out to steady her, his touch bringing her sharply back to the present.

  “I know.” She closed her eyes and blew out a breath, fighting for a calm she didn’t feel. She opened her eyes again, her gaze meeting his. “It’s just that it looks so much like mine.”

  “The guy’s playing mind games.” He framed her face with his hands, searching her eyes. “You can’t let him get to you.”

  “I won’t.” She pulled away, shaking her head. “I just had a weird moment. Sorry.”

  “It’s understandable. I don’t like the idea that the prick was in your suite any more than you do.”

  “It’s par for the course, I guess. I just let it spook me.” She squared her shoulders, forcing a smile in an attempt to erase the worry creasing his face. “We already established that he wasn’t trying to hurt me. Just jerk me around a bit. And tell me something.”

  “So how do we figure it out?”

  “The tech team will be a start, and from there I’ll try and reconfigure both bombs. He’s left marks before. Maybe there’s something embedded in a fragment that he wants me to see. Or something that will tell us where the box came from.”

  “You think it’s the one that was stolen from your apartment?”

  “I know it’s not likely. But I can’t rule it out. At least not until I’ve thoroughly examined what’s left of it.”

  “All right. I’ll make the call.” He laid the little head back where it had landed, and walked into his suite.

  Sam stared down at the little clown, his sad eyes staring up at her, trying to tell her something—something only she could know. The bomber obviously had done his homework. Knew enough about her life to send a personal message. Problem was, she hadn’t a clue what the hell he was trying to say.

  “I WANT ROUND-THE-CLOCK protection, damn it.” Payton slammed his hand down on Cullen’s desk, satisfied when the other man jumped.

  “She’s got you, Payton. I don’t think it gets much better than that. And I’ve arranged for the two of you to move into a secured house. It’s gated and most of the property is fenced, plus there’ll be security stationed everywhere. I’m moving the rest of the team as well.” Cullen spread his hands. “But you said yourself that this man, whoever he is, isn’t trying to hurt her.”

  “Yet.” Payton let the word hang in the air, gripping the edge of the desk, his anger barely leashed. “I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “You could lock her in a room.” Cullen’s quip fell flat, and Payton exchanged glances with Gabe who was standing in the corner, leaning back against the edge of Cullen’s bar.

  “I hardly think that will be necessary,” Gabe said, one eyebrow raising. “Don’t forget she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

  “I know that,” Payton growled. “But it’s not enough.”

  “I agree, Payton,” Cullen said, his voice placating. “That’s why I’ve arranged for the safe house. And in the meantime, you and the rest of the team will have to make sure you have her back. That’s as good as it’s going to get. I need her on this case. Especially if she’s connected to it somehow. Hell, she may be the only one who can figure it out.”

  “And you always get what you want.” His words held scorn, but his tone lacked conviction. Truth was he didn’t have the energy to fight Cullen. Besides, even if he did, there was no point. Sam wouldn’t quit even if Cullen told her to. Better to keep her on the team—at least that way he could watch over her.

  “She’s going to be fine.” Gabe reached out to pat his shoulder. “We’ll see to it.”

  “Like we did in Iraq?” Payton met his friend’s gaze, his own searching.

  Gabe shook his head. “We did the best we could at the time. You know that.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do.” Payton rubbed the bridge of his nose, the seeds of a headache starting to pound at his temples. “I just don’t want her hurt.”

  “None of us do,” Gabe said. “And I’m not saying we can ignore the fact that this guy seems to know a lot about Sam. But even assuming the incidents in her room are part of some bigger plan, it still doesn’t mean he’s targeting her specifically. She’s the lead investigator. If he wanted to send a message, she’s the logical target.”

  “And to that end, she’s also the logical person to help us figure out what the hell he’s trying to say.” Cullen steepled his hands, his expression impassive.

  Payton knew the guy had feelings, he’d seen them when Madison was being threatened. But apparently his need to protect only extended to people he cared about. Payton swung around to go, working to swallow his disgust.

  Sam was standing in the doorway, an odd expression on her face. His heart sank, and he wondered how long she’d been standing there, cursing Cullen for not saying anything.

  “I’ve reconstructed the shrapnel from the bomb in my room.” She pushed past him without meeting his gaze, her attention on Cullen and Gabe.

  “Another jack-in-the-box?” Cullen asked.

  “No. It was a car. A miniature of the one Elliot Drummond was driving.”

  “Well I’d say that makes the message pretty damn clear,” Gabe said, frowning. “He’s taking credit for his handiwork.”

  “It certainly looks that way,” Sam agreed. “Hopefully I’ll know more after I reconstruct the first bomb.”

  “Any sign of the Tai on the fragments from this most recent attack?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing that’s visible to the naked eye. I didn’t have time for anything more than reconstruction. Harrison’s going to do a more detailed search. And when I get back I’ll start looking for evidence to link the San Antonio and Virginia bombs to the ones in my hotel room and the one that killed Elliot. In the meantime though, in light of the model car, it seems like we can assume a connection to Elliot. And, through him, a connection to the other bombs.”

  “One thing’s for certain,” Payton said, shifting so that he could see Sam’s face. “This guy is playing for keeps. He’s killed five people already. And there’s no sign that this is the end. So as far as I’m concerned until we know something different, we have to believe he’s after you.”

  “You’re jumping to conclusions.” Her voice was deceptively soft, a little muscle ticking in her jaw. “He obviously knows something about me, but to date he’s only us
ed it as a means to get my attention. There’s nothing we’ve seen that makes me believe the guy is doing anything but toying with me. It’s not something I like. But it also isn’t something that makes me think I should be running for the hills.”

  “What about Jack?” Payton asked, his anger rising. “You said yourself you thought it was yours.”

  “I overreacted. Heat-of-the-moment response.” She shot him a telling look, her eyes glittering with anger. “He’s definitely of the same vintage as the remains of the jack-in-thebox found in my room. But that’s all I can be sure of right now. I’ve got Harrison working on a comparison to try and prove that he actually came from the same box as the first bomb.”

  “How about the box itself? You said it resembled the one you had, right?” Gabe’s brows were drawn together in a frown.

  “Yeah. I had Harrison check into that, too. And it seems like the toy was pretty standard issue at the time. And most of them were made in China. My dad picked it up while he was on a mission in the Far East. So that means my box was far from unique.”

  “Even so, it was old. That could make it rare,” Payton insisted, still trying to get her to take his concerns more seriously.

  “Actually, no. I looked on eBay just to see, and pulled up about twelve. Two of them identical to mine.” She shrugged, but her tight smile signaled the fact that she knew she’d won the point. “I’m not saying his using the box is a coincidence. Just that I don’t think he chose it for any other reason than to get my attention.”

  “Well, it’s working.” Payton caught her gaze and held it.

  “Look, the thing that’s important here is the fact that Jack survived the blast relatively untouched. At least his head did. Which tells me the bomber wanted it that way.” She walked to the window and leaned back against the sill.

  “Blast patterns are predictable. Attach a component this way or that and you can pretty accurately guess where it will land and what condition it will be in. All the variables have to be taken into consideration, and even then there is the possibility of a miscalculation, but overall, if a piece survives intact, especially in a situation like this one, it can be concluded that it survived because the bomber wanted it to.”

  “Which means that he planned for you to find it.” Cullen sat back, steepling his fingers on his desk.

  “Exactly.” She nodded to emphasize the point. “And that tells us that at the very least Jack’s presence at the second bomb site ties the two incidents together.”

  “What about your list of enemies?” Cullen queried.

  “It’s not as long as you might think,” Sam said with a half smile. “But I’m still working on eliminating folks. Like Harrison said, most of them are still incarcerated, and so far the ones who aren’t either don’t fit our M.O. or they’ve got alibis.”

  “You’ll keep checking?” Cullen asked.

  “Of course. But in the meantime, I think we need to concentrate on the leads we have. Like Walker.”

  “And just ignore the fact that this guy seems to be gunning for you,” Payton said.

  “I’m not trying to ignore it. I’m just trying to keep it in perspective.” She stood up, hands on hips, her blue eyes shooting sparks.

  “He set two bombs off in your room, for God’s sake,” Payton said, closing the distance between them, forgetting for the moment that they weren’t alone. “What more do you want?”

  “I want to do my job. Without interference.” She stepped back, her gaze including all of them now, her expression fierce. “And I can’t do that if the three of you are plotting to sequester me against my will. I’ve dealt with this kind of thing before, and I can deal with it now.”

  “We’re just trying to get your back,” Gabe said, his tone unapologetic.

  “I can live with that. But I won’t stand for anything else. All right? I’m not some helpless victim that needs someone to ride to her rescue. Got it?”

  They all nodded, but it was clear the message was for Payton.

  “Fine, I’ll back off.” He held up his hands, not certain if he wanted to throttle her or kiss her. Either way he was lying between his teeth, because there was no way in hell he was letting her walk into some madman’s plot. Even if it meant tying her to the bed.

  Now there was a thought with definite appeal.

  “WHAT THE HELL were you thinking?” Sam stared out the window of Cullen’s jet, tired of containing her anger. This was the first time she’d had the chance to face Payton alone since she’d overheard his high-handed conversation with Cullen and Gabe in Cullen’s office, and she’d been seething ever since.

  “I was trying to protect you.” Payton turned to face her, his scar making him look fierce. But she knew him too well to be afraid.

  “From what? Myself?” She clenched the armrests, her fingernails digging into the soft leather. “I don’t need that kind of protection.” She wasn’t sure why she was so angry at him. Every man she’d ever met had tried to protect her. Even her father. Maybe it was that she’d expected better of him.

  “I didn’t say you did.” His look bordered on mutinous. “I just don’t think you’re taking the incidents in your hotel room seriously enough.”

  “So what, you want me to cower in the corner until it’s all over?” She didn’t mean to sound so waspish, but he punched her buttons.

  “No.” He reached out to take her hand, simply tightening his grasp when she tried to pull away. “I just want you to quit acting like a superhero. Everyone needs someone to watch their back now and then.”

  “You wanted more than that. I heard the three of you. You wanted to bench me so that you could play big hero and slay the dragon.” It had been the theme of her life with men, and somehow it goaded her more now than ever.

  “You’re punishing me because I care about you.”

  “No,” she spat. “I’m punishing you because you won’t believe in me. I can handle this.”

  “Not alone.”

  She frowned in frustration. “I never said I wanted to handle it alone. I just want to continue to be an active part of the team.”

  “The leader.”

  “I’m best qualified for the job.” She stared at him intently, daring him to argue with her.

  Payton sighed. “I don’t want you to run for cover just because some maniac is calling your bluff. I just want to be certain that you’re not blindly running to him because you refuse to face the possibility that he’s got your number.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  He ran his hand through his hair. It was the most flustered she’d ever seen him, and if she hadn’t been so angry, she would have been delighted that she’d gotten that kind of rise from him. “You could try the patience of a saint, Samantha Waters.” He spoke through clenched teeth, his fingers wrapped around hers contradicting his tone.

  “I try.” She shrugged, feeling obstinate, but not exactly sure why.

  “Look,” he said, his green eyes serious, “your job is to find this bomber and to bring him to justice. My job is to make sure you can do your job in one piece. It’s that simple.”

  Her obstinacy deflated. “And that’s it?” The words were out before she could stop them, sounding a lot like a disappointed adolescent.

  “You know it isn’t.” His thumb was stroking her palm, saying a hell of a lot more than words could ever convey.

  “I don’t know what to think.” She leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes. “I just want my chance to find this guy. And I don’t want anyone riding roughshod over me.”

  “I’m not trying to get in your way, Sam. But you can’t shut me out either. You’ve got to trust me.” His words echoed through her brain, and she knew she wanted to believe. Not only that he could be trusted, but that he could honestly stand beside her. As a partner.

  But she’d heard him in Cullen’s office. They’d been talking about locking her in a room. Which made him just the same as all the others, certain that she couldn’t handle
the life she’d chosen on her own. Certain that she needed someone to watch over her.

  Well, she didn’t need anyone. She never had. Her father had instilled that notion a long time ago. Stand on your own two feet, or fall.

  She opened her eyes, ready to refute all that he was saying, to tell him she owed nothing to anyone, and liked it that way. But there was something in his eyes, something that reminded her that in asking her to trust him, he was opening himself up in a way no more comfortable for him than it was for her.

  “I want to trust you. But I can’t have you going behind my back like that again.” He opened his mouth to contradict her, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I mean it. I’ve been doing what I do for a hell of a long time. And I’m not a novice. If I’m going to trust you, you have to trust me. You have to believe that I’m making informed decisions based on a hell of a lot of experience. I’m not about to let this guy get the better of me. So you’ve got to shelve that chauvinistic streak if we’re going to continue to work together.”

  She’d purposely used the word work, but they both knew she meant more than that.

  Payton was silent for a moment, letting her words sink in, but he didn’t release her hand, the contact binding them together in some wordless way that went far beyond the semantics of their discussion.

  Finally, he nodded. “I agree. But if I’m going to accept who you are, you’ve got to take me as I am as well.”

  She wasn’t sure exactly what he meant, and waited, holding her breath, not certain she was going to like what he had to say.

  “I grew up in the army. I believe in chain of command, and the wisdom of my superiors. Despite the fact that I’ve been on my own for a hell of a long time, I still have a set of standard operating procedures I live by. A code of honor if you will. And part of that code is to protect the people I care about—and I care about you.” His eyes met hers, the intensity robbing her of breath.

  She nodded, for once totally speechless. There was nothing she could say that would top the quiet eloquence of this man. She was honored, and frightened, and incredibly in love.