Ultimate Prey (Book 3 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series)

by Kristine Mason

  “I’m sorry.” He smiled. “I guess I never did introduce myself. I’m Steven Weir, former Marine, former CORE agent.”

  Her eyes widened and her chin trembled. “You worked for CORE?”

  “Did I stutter? Yes, I worked for CORE.”

  “Did Ian fire you? Is that why you’re doing this?”

  “He didn’t just fire me, he had me arrested. Two months ago I was released from Stateville after serving six years for killing a man who’d murdered eight men. He’d taken the lives of Chicago cops, FBI agents and several Marines. And I stopped him. I gave the victims’ families justice. Instead of praise, I was given a prison sentence.” He hefted the pack over his shoulders. “Now I plan to deliver a new brand of justice. You can thank your boyfriend for your current position.”

  He turned and checked his compass. He’d need to travel east for a mile, then north. If he hustled double-time, he could beat whoever was following him and ambush them ahead of schedule.

  “Wait,” she shouted. “Don’t go.”

  Surprised, he turned. The blood from her leg and calf wounds had trickled to her feet and now coated the tops of her slippers. The slice along her torso looked as if it had already stopped bleeding, but the one along her forearm dripped from her elbow and splashed across her breast.

  “I didn’t realize I was such good company.”

  “Please, I can’t defend myself this way.”

  Fucking ditz. “That’s the point. But don’t worry. I’ve made it so Ian will find you. I can’t let you die out in the Glades by yourself with no one watching. And I want Ian to watch.” He took a few steps toward her. “My ex-wife divorced me, took my kids, my house and my money, then let some asshole move in and play daddy in my absence. When I decided to hunt Ian, I wasn’t planning on involving you, until I watched how my ex grieved and suffered when I stabbed her lover in the dick with a broken wine bottle. I’ve made it clear that I want Ian to suffer, too—so clear I’m starting to sound redundant even to myself. The best way to do that is through you.”

  He touched her cheek. “Now that you’ve stopped screaming and aren’t as annoying, I actually feel a little bad about that.” He grinned, then started to laugh. “Sorry, I can’t keep a straight face. I’m completely lying. I feel nothing for you. But don’t be surprised if you feel something tugging at your bloody feet. Hang in there, Cami,” he said with a wave, turned then took off running.

  *

  A cramp pinched Lola’s right side. She gripped her waist, then moved to a slow jog. “Mind slowing down for a minute?” she called to Ryan, who was farther ahead by at least fifteen to twenty feet. Who the hell knew? She couldn’t gauge distance in this mishmash of overgrown trees and bushy plants.

  “Do you need to stop?” Ryan slowed, turned, then jogged toward her. “How about some water?”

  “Water would be good,” she said, pulling off her pack. She stretched her back. Her foot hurt, but she didn’t want to remove the boot and mess with her bandage. Her legs ached from all of the running and hiking. She just needed to sit for a minute. She glanced to the pack nestled in ground cover, then bent to sit on it.

  “Don’t touch that,” he shouted, and rushed toward her.

  She tried to jump back up, but lost her balance and instinctively put her hands out to catch her fall. Ryan grabbed her by the waist before she hit the ground.

  She clung to his pack and waist, looked from his mouth, then to the ground, telling herself the only reason she was suddenly breathless, and that her heart rate had spiked, was due to the alarm in his voice. Not because he was holding her, or because his hard body was flush to hers. “You scared the crap out of me. Don’t touch what?”

  “You dropped your pack in stinging nettles. If you touch it with your bare skin, it causes a rash.”

  “All of these plants are starting to look the same to me. Thanks for saving me from a rash.”

  “You can tell the stinging nettles by the white flowers at the top of their stems,” he said, still holding her close.

  She should step back. But she was tired and his arms were strong, and…damn the way he held her was almost a hug. She could use one. A long comforting embrace. A shoulder to lean on and help her push through the rest of this mission, as Ryan kept calling it. Exhausted, scared and worried out of her mind, she wanted to know someone cared, not only about her mom, but—call her selfish—about her. If he hadn’t been making conversation, or she wasn’t asking questions about the Everglades, or about him and his life here, her mind kept straying to her mom. The worry distressed her to the point that she wanted him to give her some distance, so that she could let out all the emotions festering inside and have big cry fest.

  Thinking about wanting to unleash those emotions had her chin quivering and her eyes burning with the onslaught of tears. Worried he’d think she was weak, she looked down and stepped back.

  He held her tight. “Hey,” he murmured. “What’s going on? If you need a break, we’ll take one.”

  She nodded, but couldn’t speak, not without her words coming out on a sob.

  “Lola. Talk to me.”

  Damn it, the understanding and concern in his eyes were everything she needed and didn’t want right now. “I’m fine.” She let go of his pack, then swiped at her eyes. “I just need a sec to…ah…energize. How about that water?”

  He held her tighter and rubbed a hand at the small of her back. God, she was sweaty, tired and could use a breath mint. Yet she didn’t want him to let her go. She didn’t want to lose that contact that she craved and needed right now.

  “Sure,” he said, his gray eyes probing, yet still holding concern. “Want another protein bar, too?”

  She’d rather roll around in stinging nettles than eat another one of those gross things again. “No, thanks.” Her eyes filled with more tears. “I’m sorry, I…I think I need a moment before I have a total breakdown.”

  He let go of her, quickly lost his pack, then wrapped his arms around her. “What you need is to let it all out,” he said, his husky voice soothing. “Just let it out.”

  “I’m supposed to be a badass agent. Badass agents don’t cry.” Hating the whine in her voice, she pressed her head to his chest and cried anyway. After a few moments, and in desperate need of a tissue, she pulled back and hid her runny nose.

  He finally—unfortunately—let her go, then bent and unzipped her pack. “Here,” he said, handing her a pack of tissues.

  “Thanks.” She took them from him, then, after wiping her nose, let out a frustrated sigh. “Those have been in my pack the whole time?”

  “Yeah, I thought you knew.”

  “How would I know?”

  “Didn’t you open the pack?”

  She balled the tissue in her fist. “When? Other than the couple stops for water and when you bandaged my foot, there hasn’t been time.”

  He cleared his throat, and looked to the ground. “What about when you went to the bathroom?”

  That snapped her out of her emotional turmoil. “I…uh…I don’t want to discuss that.”

  He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t use leaves.”

  Her cheeks heated. “I don’t want to discuss this.”

  “Lola, I’m not trying to embarrass you. I just want to make sure you didn’t use leaves that—”

  “I didn’t use anything, okay? There. Now you know I did the drip-dry thing. Thank you for embarrassing me.” She grabbed her pack, dreading putting it on again. Ryan had told her it weighed about fifty pounds, but after carrying it for close to ten hours, it felt like it weighed double that.

  He took the pack from her, then set it back on the ground. “I’m sorry. Please, look at me.”

  She did. “What?”

  “For the record, if you used stinging nettles in place of the tissues in your pack, and developed a rash, I’m well versed in how to—”

  She slapped his chest, and couldn’t help laughing. “I don’t need to know h
ow well versed you are in that department. It’s bad enough you bandaged my ugly foot. I don’t need you to—” A quick image of Ryan’s rough fingers soothing the ache between her thighs emerged. She quickly shoved it in the back of her mind. “I’m good. Now, how about that water?”

  He reached into his pack and pulled out the jug, which was almost empty. “After this, we only have one left,” he said, handing the water to her. “I’m hoping we won’t have to worry about needing any refills.”

  “If necessary, Barney can bring us supplies, right?” she asked, then drank her share.

  “He can, but airboats are noisy. It’s bad enough Jackass knows we’re following him. I don’t want to give away our exact location.”

  That didn’t settle well for her. She could go without food—she didn’t want to, but could suffer for a few days. Water, she needed. And knowing her mom and Ian didn’t have a supply only compounded her worry.

  When she gave the water back to him, he took it, but latched onto her wrist with his free hand. “In your pack are supplies we can use to make sure we have drinkable water.”

  “What else is in my pack?”

  “The small tent and sleeping bag. We both have fire-starters, flashlights and insect repellent. What neither of us have is an extra change of clothes. That’s on the boat.”

  “I’m starting to think the boat wasn’t necessary to begin with,” she said, then regretted her words when he pushed a hand through his hair and stood. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that—”

  “Nope. You’re good,” he said, then put the jug to his lips. After a long drink, he shook it. “Empty.” He crushed it, then started shoving it in the pack.

  “Ryan.” She knelt and touched his hand. “Thank you for everything you’re doing. I’m not, and never would, question your judgment here. Again, I don’t know what CORE is paying you—”

  “I’m not doing this for the money.”

  That made no sense to her. She was from LA, where it was all about the money. “So, you’re not taking a dime from CORE?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He zipped the pack. “The company can reimburse me for any supplies used. Or if we end up using the boat and it gets damaged.”

  “Then why are you doing this?”

  After he hoisted his pack over his shoulders, he helped with hers. “I have my reasons.”

  She touched his chest, stopping him from walking away.

  “Let it go, Lola. It’s not important.”

  She released him, but couldn’t shake her curiosity. Why would he place himself in danger for nothing? Even if her mom hadn’t been one of the kidnapped victims, she’d have come down to Florida because it was her job.

  Ryan had a business and had no reason to risk his life. But he was also a former SEAL. After their encounter with the first tripwire, he’d mentioned that he couldn’t, as much as he’d tried, take the SEAL out of him. Was he simply reliving the glory days? If so, she wouldn’t hold that against him. But with the way he’d shut down on her, she knew now wasn’t the time to press him. Besides, did it really matter why he was out here with her, risking his life to save her mom’s and Ian’s?

  It did. They might have only met today, but they’d already been through a lot together. He’d proven she could trust him with her life and, damn it, she liked him. Not because he wasn’t hard to look at, but because he was funny, laid-back and smart. She’d add sexy to the list, but that would be unprofessional. Oh, hell. Sexy was at the top of the list. How could it not be after she’d seen him in nothing but his boxers? Still, there was more to him than a great body, and she suspected there was also more beneath his easy smile. She couldn’t help but wonder what had driven him to—

  “Ryan, stop,” she said, and, with her hand shaking, she knelt to the ground and picked up a bullet.

  He quickly turned and rushed to her side. “What’s wrong? What did you…?” He took the bullet from her and studied it. “It’s from a .44 caliber bolt-action rifle.” He fisted the bullet. “Don’t think negative. I have a feeling he wasn’t shooting to kill. Plus, we now know he was in this area, so make sure you watch where you’re walking in case his next tripwire isn’t just a firecracker.”

  She nodded and stood, then followed behind him, keeping her gaze on the ground. How could she not think negatively? Maybe Ryan was right and Jackass wasn’t shooting to kill, only to terrorize her mom and Ian. While that thought scared her, she’d rather keep that in mind than the alternative.

  Ryan whistled. She looked up, then quickly hurried toward him. A bullet was lodged in the splintered bark of the tree. “I don’t understand why we wouldn’t have heard him fire.”

  “If he used a fully suppressed rifle, we wouldn’t hear anything unless we were close by. I doubt Ian and your mom heard anything until the bullets started hitting trees.” He looked ahead and pointed to a clearing. “If Jackass was firing at them when they were running through here, they wouldn’t go into that open space.”

  “I think our best bet is to try and pick up his boot prints.”

  “Agreed. I’ll go right, you take the left. Don’t stray too far. I always want to see you,” he said, and started walking.

  I always want to see you.

  If they were in another place and time, his words might have sounded romantic. Only they weren’t. She wasn’t in her favorite little black dress sitting across from Ryan, who would look damn fine wearing just about anything, and sharing a candlelight dinner. She was looking for boot prints in the—

  “Got one,” she called, and waved him over. While she waited for him, she crouched and picked up a shell casing.

  “Print?” he asked, then looked to her hand. “And shell casing. Good.” He searched the ground, then started moving again.

  She followed behind, and after about ten yards, they came to a narrow, shallow canal. Ryan’s boots kicked up water as he crossed. When he reached the opposite side, he stopped and held up a hand. “Something isn’t right about this,” he said. “Look how deep these prints are compared to the others we found.”

  She moved next to him, then looked to the prints. “It’s like he was…stomping. Deliberately.” They followed Jackass’s trail to a large tree covered in Spanish moss, then circled it. “Is that blood on those leaves?” she asked, moving closer to a bush. The flimsy branches were bent and broken. She tugged at one branch, then gasped.

  Ryan hovered over her shoulder. “Looks like they might’ve been hiding here. There are grooves in the dirt and the ant hill is disturbed.” He touched her shoulder, then took a step back. “Let’s think this through. Jackass starts shooting, your mom and Ian can’t outrun him, so they hide here.”

  Her heart sped as the visual played in her mind. “Jackass makes his presence known by stomping closer, then…what? Would he let them go so he could continue the hunt?”

  Ryan took another step back and cocked his head. “Looks like blood in the dirt here. The pattern is different, like whoever left it behind had been sitting there for a while.”

  “Or lying there. The ferns and stinging nettles near the dirt are flattened.”

  He gave her a quick, approving grin. “You’re catching on quick,” he said, then examined the ground again. “Damn it.”

  “What’s wrong now?”

  “There are more prints heading in this direction.”

  “But that’s good. We have their trail again and can hopefully catch—”

  He bent and pointed to the dirt. “Boot print here and here. Toe prints there. We’re missing a set. You’re mom’s not walking.”

  Oh, God. The blood. It had to be her mom’s. But who had carried her from the bush? Ian? Jackass?

  Ryan moved next to her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Stay out of your head and think about this. If your mom was…gone, would Ian carry her body? Would Jackass?” He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Would you?”

  She swallowed hard and shook her head. “No. I’d leave her covered in the bush until
I was rescued, then come back for her body.”

  “Right. On the positive side, if either Ian or Jackass is now carrying your mom, it’s going to slow them down. We’ve already made good time. Let’s pick up the pace. It’ll be dark soon.”

  She glanced to the treetops and squinted at the bright sky. “How soon?”

  “The sun will set in about an hour. With all the trees, it’ll seem darker than it is. We might get two hours before we’re going to have to camp for the night. There are worse things in the Glades than Jackass, and they’re just as predatory.”

  Chapter 11

  CORE Offices, Chicago, Illinois

  Thursday, 3:23 p.m. Central Standard Time

  JOHN RUSHED INTO the evidence and evaluation room, then came to an abrupt halt. Celeste and her sister, Eden, sat at the table, talking to Rachel. His daughter, Olivia, squirmed in his wife’s lap, shaking a teething ring at her cousin, Hannah, who stood next to Eden, thumb in her mouth and hanging onto the office chair.

  Hudson moved past him. “Hey, babe, what’re you guys doing here?” Hudson scooped up his daughter, who popped her thumb from her mouth and wrapped her arms around her daddy’s neck.

  While John took off his coat and draped it on a chair, Celeste turned and gave him a weary smile. “We thought you could use something to eat,” she said, motioning to the plastic containers on the table. “It’s not turkey, but we did bring sandwiches and…” She shook her head. “I don’t remember what else.”

  Eden took Olivia from Celeste. “Macaroni and cheese, chips, brownies and pop.”

  Celeste stood. “Can we talk?”

  “Sure, let’s go to my office. Hang on a sec, though. I need—” After what he’d seen at Elaine Weir’s house, he needed to kiss his little girl. In a few strides, he took Olivia from Eden, and not bothering to wipe the drool from her mouth, gave her a kiss, then hugged her.

  When he leaned back, Olivia gave him a dimpled grin and used her chubby fingers to squeeze his cheeks, all the while babbling, “Dada, Dada.” She was so innocent and beautiful. Although she couldn’t erase the dead bodies from his mind, she gave him hope that there was still good in the world.