Silent Pursuit

by Lynette Eason

  “First,” he said as he set his bag in the second chair, “I’ve called my sister, Carly. She’s a U.S. marshal who’s going to come stay with you tonight to protect you while I focus on looking for the guys who just tried to kill us. The faster I’m able to get on this, the faster we’ll figure it out. Now, the marshals aren’t officially on this case, you understand? She’s just doing this because I asked and should be here in a few minutes. But for now tell me everything you can, Gina. Who’s after you?”

  She lifted burdened shoulders. “I don’t know, Ian. All I know is that they want something and haven’t found it, yet.”

  “Which means they’ll keep coming back until they do.”

  She grimaced, rose and walked to the sink. The sound of running water reached his ears, as did the crinkle of plastic covering being torn from a glass. She filled the tumbler and took a long drink.

  Sighing, she placed the glass by the sink and paced back to the table. She looked him in the eye. “You knew Mario. Probably better than anyone. He trusted you enough to order me to contact you should something happen to him—and weird things start happening to me. Someone tried to kill me—not once, but twice.” She held up two fingers for emphasis. “I’d say that qualifies as weird enough. You’re here. Now what?”

  Nothing like being put on the spot.

  Ian stood and paced from one end of the room to the other. Then he turned and said, “Tell me about the first time someone tried to kill you.”

  She shuddered and his heart pinched at the distress on her pretty face. A face strained and drawn with the stress that had become her life. “Not my favorite topic of conversation.”

  “Come on. I need to hear the details.” He gestured toward the other chair and said, “Have a seat.”

  Gina rubbed her eyes, gathered her strength and started. “I had just gotten home from work, having closed on a great house. Everything had gone smoothly, and I was feeling better than I had in months. When I got to my house, I didn’t notice anything wrong. My neighbor pulled into his drive about the same time I did, and I remember waving to him. He waved back and walked to get his mail. I walked up to the door and it was locked. I had to use my key like always.” She swallowed, closing her eyes as she visualized each detail of that day. “I opened the door, stepped inside and someone grabbed me from behind. He put something over my head.” Her breathing became shallow pants at the remembered terror. She had been certain she was going to be raped and killed.

  Ian’s hand reached over and grasped hers, holding it in an almost painful grip. She flexed her fingers and he let go. “Sorry.”

  Clasping her hands together between her knees, she hunched her shoulders, took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Leaning back and staring at the ceiling, she said, “I managed a pretty good scream before they stuffed a rag in my mouth. If they were going to kill me, I was going to make them work for it. I kicked one, got my hand free and managed to get the rag out of my mouth. I remember screaming again.”

  This time his hand squeezed her shoulder, and she could feel the tension emanating from him in waves. “I’m sorry to make you recount this, but I’ve got to hear it.”

  “I know. It’s all right. It’s just…” She shook her head and he encouraged her with the compassion in his eyes. “Then the one who had me from behind whispered in my ear, ‘Scream again and I’ll slit your throat. Now, where is it?’ He pulled the rag from my mouth and I asked him what he was looking for. He said, ‘Mario stole something from my boss and he wants it back.’”

  “What did his voice sound like?” Ian interrupted. “Did he have an accent?”

  Gina scrunched her nose as she tried to remember the voice and not the fear. “Maybe a slight one. He whispered so I can’t…no, he didn’t have any kind of distinguishable accent.” Then her head shot up to look him in the eye. “But the other guy did. In fact, I think he spoke a couple of Spanish words.”

  Ian raised a brow. “Spanish, huh?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I screamed that I didn’t know what he was talking about, that Mario never told me about anything he stole. Then my neighbor was banging on my door, yelling my name and asking if I needed help. That’s when we could hear the sirens coming down the street. The man holding me shoved me to the floor, and then they all ran out the back. At about that time my neighbor kicked the door in and said he’d called the police when he’d heard me screaming and through the window could see me struggling with someone.”

  Ian ran a hand over his face. “Thank God your neighbor was home.”

  “I know. He was early that day and so was I. I usually go to the gym around that time, but in spite of feeling so great about the sale, I had a headache and wanted to go home and lie down for a bit.”

  “So you changed your routine that day.”

  “Just a little, yes.”

  “They probably weren’t expecting you to show up.”

  “You mean I surprised them?”

  “Yeah. If they wanted to get in your house to do a search, most likely they’d been watching you for a while to get a good idea of your routine.”

  “And I picked that day to alter it.” She closed her eyes and shook her head.

  “Unfortunately.” Ian stood and paced to the other end of the room, then back. “And that started it. They may have been trying to find whatever it was that Mario had without involving you, but once you walked in on them…”

  Gina nodded and frowned. “So that’s why it took them six months to come after me?”

  “Maybe. And yet why let on that they were looking for something specific? They could have just acted like it was a robbery and left without saying anything.”

  Silence descended, surrounding them as they lost themselves in their thoughts.

  “They’re out of options,” Gina stated quietly.

  Ian focused in on her. “What do you mean?”

  “They’ve probably been looking for whatever it is that Mario took since the day he died. Six months later they still haven’t found it. I’m the only link left.”

  An almost imperceptible nod came from Ian. “You could be right.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “Well, we keep searching and keep avoiding whoever’s after you until we find it.”

  “I have a feeling that’s going to be easier said than done.”

  Ian shrugged. “Guess we’re going to find out. I called a buddy of mine, Jason Sutton. He’s going to bring us some supplies. Stuff my sister can’t get her hands on or I’d have her bring it.”

  Recognition lit her dark eyes. “I know Jase.” Then a frown formed between her brows. “But I don’t know that Mario trusted him anymore. I know they had some kind of conflict going on shortly before Mario died. Unfortunately, I don’t think Mario trusted any of the guys from his unit.” Her gaze softened as she stared at him, and a flicker of confusion passed over her pretty features. “Just you. He trusted you. Why?”

  Discomfort made him turn from her straightforward look. He couldn’t share that information with her—yet. Under the guise of checking the street, he walked to the window, stepped to the side and pulled back the curtain a mere centimeter.

  Nothing.

  He turned back to her. She still waited for his answer.

  “Mario knew I’d never do anything to hurt him. Ever. I guess he realized that in time and—” he paused and shrugged “—sent you to me. Also because…” He stopped, the rest of his answer hovering on his lips.

  A knock at the door sounded.

  Pulling his gun, he checked the peephole, then returned the weapon to its holster. “That’s Carly.” Relief at the reprieve filled him, and he opened the door. A young woman in her early thirties, with the same blue eyes as her brother, stepped into the room.

  Ian shut the door and gave her a hug. “Thanks for doing this.”

  Carly grinned up at him. “Always loved the night shift.” She turned her gaze
to Gina, studying her. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  Ian stepped to the door. “I’ll let you guys get acquainted, but I’d make it short if I were you.” He looked at Gina. “Get some sleep, it’s already almost 2:00 in the morning. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

  Gina blinked at Ian’s sudden departure.

  Well. Then she narrowed her eyes. He was getting out while he could, avoiding any more questions he didn’t want to answer. She let him go, moved to the bed and sank onto it.

  Carly settled herself into a chair, facing the door yet away from the window. “So, you’ve got someone after you, huh?”

  “To say the least.”

  Compassion softened the features she shared with Ian.

  “Why don’t you get some rest? No one will bother you tonight.”

  Fatigue hit Gina like a truck, and instead of getting up and taking the shower she’d planned on, she fell back to stare at the ceiling. “Thanks, I appreciate that.” Then she sat back up. “I think I’m too exhausted to sleep.”

  Silence reigned for a moment; then a sympathetic Carly asked, “How did you and Mario meet?”

  Gina smiled at the memory. “He wanted to buy a house.”

  “Ian told me you’re a Realtor.”

  “Yep. Mario wanted to buy a house in North Carolina. I was working with a firm there, and he got put through to me. We met and the rest was history as they say.”

  “Did he ever buy the house?”

  Gina chuckled. “Not in North Carolina. He eventually bought the one near Myrtle Beach. The whole thing in North Carolina was an undercover deal. The president was going to be at the Charlotte Coliseum. There had been reports of a terrorist attack there, and Mario was assigned the case. My real estate office was right across the street from the Coliseum. It made for a good cover.”

  “And he called you after the mission was finished?”

  “Yeah.” Her eyes grew heavy and she gave in to the desire for sleep, murmuring, “I think I might be able to get a little rest, if that’s okay.”

  “Go right ahead—that’s why I’m here. I brought a book to read.” With that she opened a thick novel and conversation ceased.

  While Gina’s body demanded rest, her mind wouldn’t shut off. What had Mario been thinking? What had he been involved in that would cause someone to come after her?

  Racking her brain produced nothing but a headache, so she turned her thoughts to Ian—what was it about him that caused Mario to trust the man? Why, of all the people Mario knew, did he practically order her to contact the one person who—in his eyes—had betrayed the unit by leaving?

  Okay, if she was honest with herself, she’d have to admit betrayed might be too strong a word. Deserted? Bailed on? Abandoned?

  Whatever the word, he’d left the unit and, as a result, disharmony had ensued. The team recovered, of course, but it was never the same. And while Mario had not shared the details of everything, she knew he blamed Ian for the fallout. He’d been quite vocal about that because the guys had never really liked Robbie Stillman, Ian’s replacement.

  She rolled to her stomach. Lord, I need you. Please help me figure out what I’ve gotten myself in the middle of. And take away this weird attraction I feel for a man who has as many secrets as the one I lost.

  She must have slept, because the next thing she knew, she awakened with a start, heart pounding, at the click of the door closing.

  Who was there?

  Where was Carly?

  THREE

  Ian paced in the tiny area between the two beds and the small bathroom, glancing at his watch again. Carly had just knocked on the door to let him know Gina was still asleep and she had to get going to report in to her day job. He regretted her lack of rest, but it couldn’t be helped.

  As for himself, he’d slept a little, dozing until Jase called to say he was on his way. Night had passed without incident. He could only hope the day would go as smoothly. Something told him not to hold his breath.

  He pushed the curtain aside just enough to see out.

  Where was Jase?

  Jason Sutton and Ian had served together under Commander Mac Gold. Jase was a dedicated man and in love with patriotism; Ian couldn’t remember the guy ever making a mistake on his watch.

  Three short raps swiveled his attention to the door. Crossing the room in three long strides, he knuckled back two short knocks.

  One tap answered.

  Ian opened the door.

  Jase, tall and dark as midnight, slipped into the room, silent as mist. “I made it as fast I could.”

  “Thanks, buddy.”

  “Haven’t heard from you in a long time.” Ian picked up on a coolness in the man’s voice that hadn’t been there before he’d left the unit.

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He left it at that.

  Jase grunted. “Whatever.”

  A rap on the door brought both of the men’s attention to it. Ian walked over, peeped out and then opened the door, pulling Gina inside. “Gina, what are doing? You don’t need to be out in the open like that.”

  Spying Jase, she drew up short, her eyes taking on a wary look. “I heard the door shut and it woke me up. I thought…” She shuddered. “Anyway, Carly left me a note saying she had to leave and that you would be over shortly.”

  “Yeah, you should have waited on me.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just ready to get back to work on this.” She looked away and over at Jase. “Hi.”

  Ian saw what she didn’t offer. She was scared to be alone. He didn’t blame her. Laying a hand on her shoulder, he said, “You said you knew Jase. We were all in the same unit once upon a time. Jase transferred out right before Mario was killed to be closer to his extended family. I asked him to bring me some things. I also told him what was going on with you. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know much more than we do at this point.”

  “But I told you…!” Panic glistened in her dark eyes even though she’d known he was going to make the call.

  “I know, Gina, but Jason’s okay. He’s not part of that unit anymore. He was gone before Mario died.”

  She wilted back onto the bed. “I didn’t mean any offense by my reaction, Jase. It’s nice to see you again.”

  His lips quirked as he nodded his bald head in Gina’s direction. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to see some things don’t change,” he teased softly. Gina never had been very good at hiding her feelings, and Jase had gotten to know her pretty well. She flushed and looked away only to appreciate it when Jase said, “Mario was a good guy. I’ve got some contacts I can ask to put out some feelers about him, if you like.”

  “Thanks.” She bit her lip, then seemed to make up her mind. “Do you know anything he might have been involved in? Anything that he might have had that someone would be after?”

  Jase shrugged. “No. There’s no telling. We go undercover all the time. Sometimes as a whole unit, sometimes as a partial. And we don’t always get filled in on what the others are doing unless there’s a need. There’s just no way to know. I saw him several times over a period of a few weeks before he died and thought he was acting strange. But when I asked him about it, he shrugged it off and never let on he was having a problem.”

  “Strange how?”

  Jase shook his head. “Nothing I can really put my finger on. Withdrawn, moody, quick to anger—and late to a lot of meetings. Just—stuff that was unlike Mario.”

  She nodded, and Ian wanted to put his arms around her; then he caught the sheen of tears in her eyes and decided he might need to offer her his shoulder to cry on.

  Instead of doing either one, he held a hand out to Jason. The man looked at it for a moment, then slowly reached out to shake it. Ian couldn’t read Jase’s expression but thought he saw something soften in the other man’s eyes. Jase offered, “Call me if you need anything else. I’ll keep after the other guys in the unit to talk to me and see if any of them know what Mario was doing right before he died.”

  “
I’d appreciate it.”

  Jase’s eyes flicked to Gina, then back to Ian. “Take care of her.”

  Then he was gone like smoke on a breeze.

  “He’s a little different than I remember,” Gina murmured.

  Ian turned to Gina, who sat on the bed. “What do you mean? Different how?”

  She shrugged. “Of course I never saw him in the field, just when we would all get together and have cookouts or eat out or whatever. But I seem to remember that he was always the life of the party, the prankster.”

  “Yeah. I remember that. But you’re right. In the field, he’s like a different person, rarely cracking a smile unless the situation calls for it. Total professional.”

  “So, what did he bring?” She gestured to the backpack.

  Ian looked inside. “A high-security laptop, night-vision goggles, an assortment of weapons, a GPS and—” he reached in and pulled out a device “—an encrypted cell phone.”

  “We’re going to need all of that?”

  “I sure hope not.”

  “Huh.”

  She seemed to lose interest in the topic. He lowered himself into the chair across from her. “Are you okay?”

  She blinked. “No, but that doesn’t matter. I want to go back to the beach house and search it. I got interrupted before I had a chance to do anything. I…didn’t exactly start searching the minute I got there.”

  “Was that the first time you’d been there since Mario died?”

  Lips tight, she nodded. “Yes. I just walked on the beach for a long time, remembering the good times, the fun we’d had. By the time I got back to the house, I was hungry. I fixed a sandwich and went back into Mario’s little home office. I’d just opened the desk drawer to start searching when I heard the front door squeak. It only took a moment to realize it wasn’t you.” She closed her eyes at the memory, and Ian clenched a fist, wanting to pound those responsible for her fear.

  Opening her eyes, she said, “So, I climbed out the window and took off down the beach. I must have made some kind of noise—I think I knocked something over—and they were after me pretty quick. Luckily, it was dark. I think that’s the only thing that slowed them down. That and the fact that I knew the beach and where to cut through to get to the diner.”