by Tess Diamond
“It’s not a point,” Maggie said. “It’s a warning. Because as far as you’re willing to go to protect powerful men’s secrets? I’m willing to go ten times farther to save that girl. You think you can get me in line? You’ve obviously never met a woman on a mission before.”
She stalked out of the mobile unit, leaving him behind in the wake of her anger. She wasn’t going to be intimidated by a man who thought he knew better than she did. She wasn’t going to fail Kayla. Even if it meant destroying every man Mr. Black kept secrets for.
It was starting to get cold outside, mist rising from the nearby river. Maggie shivered, pulling her jacket closer around her, searching for Jake. He was standing in a group of agents, deep in conversation. She hurried over and tapped him on the shoulder. “Can we talk?”
He nodded, following her a distance from the trucks and crowds of people. The smell of pine hung rich in the air; she could hear the rush of water, punctuated by the chirp of crickets. It was pretty out here, she thought idly, trying to distract herself from the nightmare spiraling out of control. What could she do, what kind of progress could she make if she had Mr. Black subverting every decision she made? What was going to happen to Kayla without any medical attention?
Maggie couldn’t see an escape route. That’s what troubled her the most.
She’d always been able to see a way out. The last time she felt like this . . .
The last time she felt like this, she was twelve and tied in a closet, begging her sister to let her stay.
“What happened?” Jake asked. “You were pretty pissed at Black.”
“Aren’t you?” she asked, her voice cracking. The stress was getting to her. The lack of sleep, the adrenaline. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate or even drank anything but coffee. God, what she wouldn’t do for a hot bath and a steak.
“Yeah,” he said. “He screwed up. Majorly.”
“Does it feel . . . does it feel like we’re even working with the good guys right now?” Maggie asked. She ran a hand through her hair, her fingers snarling in the curls. She probably looked terrible. She should splash some water on her face or something.
Jake sighed. “It doesn’t seem like there are any good guys—just crooks and victims.”
“I feel like I can’t trust anyone,” Maggie confessed. Who did she have? Had Frank known Black was pulling this? Or had Black gone over even his head? She hated to think her mentor might have let this pass, but she couldn’t think straight anymore. She was surrounded by men who didn’t trust her and she didn’t really trust them. Who was on Black’s side? Who was on hers?
“Hey,” Jake said softly. He reached out and grasped her hand, tugging her forward. Her free hand braced on his broad chest as she tilted up, her lips meeting his.
Their fingers entwined as their kiss deepened. She sighed, surrendering completely. She wanted nothing more than to draw the kiss out, to lose herself in him, in the heat of his skin and the power in his touch. But she knew they couldn’t linger.
When they pulled apart, Jake brushed a straw-colored curl off her forehead. “You can trust me,” he said.
“I know,” she said, because it was true. It was real. It was maybe the truest thing she’d ever known. She looked over her shoulder, making sure no one was listening to them. “I need something,” she said.
“Name it.”
Relief blossomed inside her. Jake would have her back. He’d do what needed to be done, and she wouldn’t have to worry about him. He could more than take care of himself—and her.
“I want you to go back into investigation mode,” she said. “You got me Mancuso’s real identity. I need you to do the same for Black. I need to know who he is. Who he works for. It has to be someone powerful, since he just strolled onto our crime scene and took charge. I need to know everything that these people are trying to protect. How deep it goes. How high up it goes. Whoever Black works for is dangerous. They clearly aren’t interested in anyone else’s well-being, they just want to keep their own secrets.”
“I’ll dig up the dirt,” Jake promised.
He leaned over and kissed her again. She sank into him, not caring that people might see them, not caring that it wasn’t the time or the place. All that mattered was his belief in her, his willingness to defy, to protect, to understand. His lips lingered against hers like he was reluctant to pull away, and she knew the feeling all too well.
But chaos was happening all around them. Danger loomed, and the clock was ticking down.
It was only a matter of time before Mancuso snapped.
And Maggie had to make sure Kayla and Paul were out of that cabin before that happened.
Chapter 53
Jake was a man on a mission. After making sure Maggie was safely back inside the mobile unit, he slipped through the protective barrier formed by the SWAT trucks toward the area where the SUVs and other vehicles were haphazardly parked.
The moon was high in the cloudless sky, the stars shining brightly. It was a beautiful night, but the whirring of the copters in the sky and the blinding burn of the floodlights swinging over the cabin marred the pretty picture.
Jake strolled casually over to the clearing where they’d put the vehicles, his hands in his pockets. He nodded to a few police officers he passed, slowing down as he approached the officer standing in front of the cars.
“Kincaid needs some papers from her car,” he said to the officer.
“She got you playing errand boy?” the officer asked.
Jake had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Women,” he said with a shrug.
The officer laughed. “She seems like a handful,” he said. “Go ahead. Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with the little lady.” Jake walked past him, thinking how a dated, backward ass like that could never even spark an interest in a strong, independent woman like Maggie Kincaid. He’d never understood men who were threatened by women who matched them. Who challenged them. Where was the fun in someone you could run circles around?
Ten minutes arguing with Maggie was hotter than ten hours in bed with anyone else. She made him rise to the challenge in the best way. Revved him up, got him going, got him thinking. He liked that about her.
Jake strolled down the row of cars, checking over his shoulder to make sure the officer wasn’t watching. He’d already turned his back, not paying attention to anything Jake was doing.
Perfect.
He’d watched Black park, because noticing that type of thing—that type of person—was part of his job. Black’s sleek gray SUV was top of the line, but he hadn’t bothered to lock it—assuming it was safe behind the cordons, guarded by the cops. Jake sneered at the guy’s hubris. What an egotistical idiot. He obviously thought he was untouchable. If Black wasn’t already on his shit list for pissing off Maggie and pulling the stunt with the fake doctor, his carelessness would’ve earned him a spot.
No matter what, you should stay sharp. He’d learned that the hard way in the Middle East. Looked like he’d be teaching Black that lesson tonight, Jake thought with a smile. Anything that screwed that guy over or got him in trouble was fine by Jake. Black was an ass. A dangerous one.
Jake ducked into the front seat, shutting the door softly behind him. The plush leather was still heated from the seat warmer, and the dashboard was spotless. Jake ran a finger along it—not even a speck of dust.
Figures that Black would be a neat freak, Jake thought. He didn’t think the man had a military past—he didn’t carry himself the right way. Whatever agency he was with, he’d clearly been stripped of all defining characteristics. He was someone who could blend into a crowd, an unassuming figure until you were too close to run. He’d unlearned everything he’d been taught in order to become something anonymous and secretive.
Jake knew how it went. He’d had friends go into intelligence. It was a hard life, full of danger and darkness and a lot of lies. You wouldn’t be able to pay him enough to live a double, sometimes triple life. He liked things b
lack-and-white—and the spy game was all about the gray.
Jake ran his hands under the dashboard and the seats, searching for bugs or hidden electronics, but the SUV was clean. So he reached over and opened the glove compartment, coming up with a wallet and nothing else.
“No registration or insurance, naturally,” Jake muttered to himself.
The brown leather was well worn, and when Jake flipped it open, he found only a stack of clean, crisp hundred dollar bills. No credit cards, no driver’s license. Not even a badge.
Okay, then. Maybe not as careless as he originally thought. No matter. Jake had other ways of finding out who the hell this guy was.
Was the money for a bribe? He thumbed through it, noticing the serial numbers were sequential, filing that away in his mind, just in case it turned out to be important.
Jake checked out the back of the SUV, but it was pristine. Crawling onto the back seat, he pulled up the flap that hid the spare tire, running his fingers underneath.
Clean again.
He returned to the front, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling—crawling around in an SUV wasn’t exactly a graceful exercise. Using the dim light from the screen on his phone—the flashlight might call attention from Officer Sexist over there—Jake found the VIN where the dashboard met the windshield.
Slouching in the front seat, he dialed Peggy’s number.
“Did you get her out yet?” Peggy asked instead of saying hello like a normal person.
“Working on it,” Jake said. “Thanks for tipping off CNN.”
“No problem,” Peggy said. “Mark told me to say hi, and thanks for the tip. Dad call you yet?”
Jake winced, thinking of how pissed General Hoffman was going to be. This entire situation was messy—a far cry from the clean operations he usually ran. He probably would ream Jake out for throwing the senator under the bus—but Jake would convince him it was the only way. Once Kayla was safe and the bomb was deactivated, the general would soften and see the logic behind Jake’s choices.
“Not yet,” he said. “I need you to run a VIN for me,” he said.
“Who are we going after now?” Peggy asked.
“New player showed up,” Jake explained. “Calls himself Mr. Black. He’s throwing himself around like he owns the place.”
“Uh-oh,” Peggy said. “Okay, I’m in the DMV databases. What’s the number?”
Jake gave it to her, the tapping sound of her keys increasing as her fingers flew across them. “Huh,” she said, sounding surprised.
“What?” Jake asked.
“All it says is ‘Government Issued,’” Peggy explained. “No specifics. That means it’s under some sort of protection. I could probably hack a few firewalls—”
“No need,” Jake said. “I have a pretty good idea what kind of person requires that kind of protection.”
“This isn’t good, is it boss?” Peggy asked.
“No,” Jake said grimly. “Listen, I gotta go. If the general wants me, he can call. But I’m bringing the girl in safe—no matter what Mr. Black does. You tell the general that.”
“Why do I feel like you’re going to be in so much trouble when you get back?” Peggy asked.
Jake smiled grimly. “Probably because I am,” he said, before hanging up.
Black was making this hard on him, but he still had options. He already knew that Black had to be working for some sort of government agency—the question was which one. He had his suspicions, but he needed some sort of confirmation before he took the full leap down the rabbit hole. He looked down at his phone, an idea forming.
Black’s phone was likely connected to the sound system through Bluetooth. If he could get the car started, he might be able to access the phone without Black realizing it.
Peering out of the window, he watched as Officer Sexist moved toward the north end of the clearing. Good, he still wasn’t paying attention. If Jake was patrolling, he’d be wondering why the guy he let through hadn’t returned with the papers he was supposed to be retrieving.
Sometimes people’s incompetence worked in his favor.
He had time.
Jake pulled his knife out of his boot, using it as leverage to yank out the paneling under the steering wheel, exposing the ignition wires. He carefully stripped two of their protective coating, exposing the live wires underneath. He twisted them together, and the engine purred to life.
He grinned, straightening. He turned on the radio and waited for the system to boot up. A long minute stretched out as the screen blinked, trying to connect with Black’s phone. Just when Jake was about to give up hope, there it was. The signal was weak, but it might be enough.
Using the radio dials, he keyed through Black’s recent calls, landing on the last incoming number. He dialed it into his own phone and pressed Call.
His body tense with anticipation, he waited as it rang. Once. Twice.
Would they pick up? Or was this just a crapshoot and he would have to return to Maggie empty-handed?
The receiver clicked, and a woman’s voice answered. “Director Hedley’s office. How may I help you?”
Jake hung up immediately, without saying a word. With that one sentence, he’d learned all he needed to know.
Shit.
This was bad. This was really bad. He needed to get out of this SUV. He needed to get to Maggie.
Everyone who worked for anyone important in DC knew Hedley’s name.
Timothy Hedley was the director of the CIA.
Jake had assumed Black had been working Homeland Security. Maybe the NSA.
But the CIA?
Christ. If the Agency was violating its legal mandate to work only outside of the U.S., this must go all the way to the top. That meant the director himself might be corrupt. Who could they turn to for help? There was no one to trust. Anyone could be involved. Anyone could be crushed underneath the CIA’s heel.
He needed to tell Maggie. Now.
Jake turned, reaching for the door. But before he could touch the handle, it was yanked open. With no time to react, his hand on his phone instead of his knife, Jake lunged forward, but the twin prongs of a Taser caught him in the chest. He saw sparks, and then his vision went black.
Chapter 54
Maggie leaned over the sink in the tiny bathroom of the mobile unit. The entire mobile unit was outfitted in sterile white and shiny chrome. It made her feel like she was in a hospital, except there was no noise. Frank had cleared everyone out of the unit, leaving her alone.
The silence was a blessing and a curse. A respite from the arguments and accusations, but an opportunity for the memories to creep in.
She couldn’t shake the uneasy, sick feeling settling in her chest. She was certain that Mancuso’s parroting Erica’s words was no coincidence. It was worse than a bullet to her chest. More damaging. Because, at this crucial moment, her attention had been split . . . her focus scattered.
Erica . . .
No! Her fingers tightened around the edge of the sink. She stared at herself in the mirror. Kayla. She had to concentrate on Kayla and Paul. On how to get around the mysterious Mr. Black and his disastrous interference.
God, Paul. Guilt twisted through her like a tightened noose. She’d broken his heart and now his life depended on her. She had to save him. She had loved him—it wasn’t the right kind of love, not for the forever he wanted, and it had taken her too long to realize that. She’d always regret that so much, saying yes, even though she had meant it at the time. She had truly thought it was right for both of them. It had seemed right—they understood each other’s work, their mutual passion for the law, for protecting people. But they came at that passion in such different ways—for Paul it was a way to do good.
For Maggie, it was a way to drive out the bad.
Now, with years between them, she could see she should never have agreed to marry him. Not when she couldn’t bear to show her real self.
Who was that, really? She’d been a sister, and now she wasn’t.
She’d been a fiancée, and then she ran. She’d been an FBI agent, and she threw it all away.
She wished she had never agreed to go with Frank that morning. The second she saw him, she should have just turned around and walked straight to her car. Then she wouldn’t be here on the edge of losing everything. Again.
Part of her wished she’d run for the fake doctor, tried to tackle him, stop him, heedless of the danger. Had Mancuso killed him or just wounded him? If he’d killed him . . . she worried about what that meant for his state of mind. He was already on the edge, ready to snap. If he’d taken a life . . .
He must have thought of it. He was obsessive. He’d probably considered all the outcomes, considered each carefully, deemed them worth the risk.
But when it came to killing, thinking was different than doing. It changed you for the worse. Some people were consumed by the horror. Others found a taste for it.
That’s what she feared the most, if Mancuso had killed. If he’d already taken a life in his mission to avenge his brother, then taking another might be easier now he knew he could actually pull the trigger. Some people couldn’t. They didn’t have it in them.
But Mancuso might be capable of it. Was he a good enough shot to take down Mr. Black’s agent? Had he just been lucky? Or was he a better marksman than she’d originally assumed?
What would she do if he killed Kayla? How could she face Mrs. Thebes?
Frank had been the one to inform the parents after Sherwood Hills. She had already turned in her badge, unable to face it.
She’d been a coward.
She wouldn’t hide this time, no matter what happened.
Her skin felt stretched too tight and hot, so she turned on the faucet, letting the water flow over her hands before she bent down to splash water on her face. The cold shock of it cleared her head for a blissful moment.
It happened fast: Just as she was beginning to straighten, water dripping down her chin, a hand covered her face, pushing a cloth against her nose and mouth.
Maggie’s entire body seized up as a strong arm wrapped around her waist when she tried to rear back. Panic coursed through her before her training kicked in. She sucked in a breath, the sickly sweet smell of the chemical-soaked cloth filling her senses. She kicked uselessly. Her head spun as she tried hard not to breathe. She had to fight back. She gritted her teeth, planting her feet and tensing her neck. She jerked her head back hard. There was a muffled sound of pain as her skull hit her attacker’s face, but his hands remained punishingly tight around her. She kicked out desperately, sputtering for breath. Blackness began to seep along the edges of her vision.