Military Heroes Romantic Suspense Collection

by V. R. Marks

  Without her, life would have been hell and his future equally bleak.

  The new phone Eva had brought him last night sounded off with a Scooby Doo ring tone. The woman would drive him to drink on the job yet. He ought to dock her pay, he thought as he answered. "Carpenter."

  "I'd like a refund, Mr. Carpenter."

  Roberts.

  "I only give refunds to living clients."

  "Oh I'm alive and well and fully capable of making you pay. You know, it's a lovely sweater our girl is wearing today. I always admired her fashion sense."

  Ross experienced his first moment of outright panic during an operation. He'd never had anyone to go home too, no one at home worrying for his safe return. The vulnerability was new, but it was his job to mitigate the effect and complete the assigned task. His training kicked in and he steeled himself against Roberts' attempt to rattle him.

  All calls to the office were recorded for the team's protection. While they weren't set up to trace the call, Eva might hear something in the background that would give them a lead on Roberts' location. The man was obviously in Haleswood, they just had to draw him out.

  "You can't touch her. You wouldn't dare touch her."

  "What a rich fantasy life you enjoy, Mr. Carpenter. Give me the hard drive and the two of you can live happily ever after in Hickville."

  "Haleswood," Ross growled, not sure why it suddenly mattered so much.

  "There's a difference? I don't know what kind of sob story she gave you, but spinning is her job. She's very good at guiding people toward what she wants them to think and feel. You were hired to recover stolen data. Can you deliver or will I be forced to implement plan B?"

  "Forced. As if." Ross tried to sound worried and discovered it was remarkably easy when it was real. "I know where your data is and I know she's planning on taking it to the FBI." He knew Roberts wouldn't respect anything resembling integrity. Time for the extortion. "I'm on my way to Columbia to set up the meeting. I suggest you make for the Caymans."

  "If that drive finds its way to the FBI I will kill you both."

  "You might have better luck if you fake our deaths too. Insurance fraud is a long shot when the perp is smart enough to actually leave. In your case..." he let the implied insult go unsaid.

  "To quote your kin," Roberts said with a mocking Southern drawl, "that dog won't hunt. Convince that conniving bitch to talk with me, or order your tombstone. You have twenty-four hours."

  The line went dead and Ross made sure the call was disconnected before he swore. His hands were shaking and he felt sweat gathering between his shoulder blades. Feeling this defenseless was completely intolerable.

  He flexed his hands around the steering wheel, waiting for the calm, calculating logic he relied on to kick in. It required more than one deep breath and more than a few affirmations about the viability of the plan. First, Allie was safe in the Midnight Rooster with the regulars coming and going all day. No one there would give Roberts a clear shot at her. And second, the plan he and Eva had outlined was working.

  Roberts was aggravated and on a hard timeline, though Ross wished he'd been able to draw out the cause of that. He had his suspicions but he'd wait for Eva's assessment before he made any adjustments. That's why they'd formed the team, to help others with challenging problems. He told clients he'd created the team to be a reasonable influence in unreasonable situations. The bedrock of RC Investigations was letting cooler heads prevail when someone had too much invested in a problem.

  He'd never imagined he'd be the one with too much invested and too much to lose.

  By the time Ross parked in front of the building that was home to the local FBI office, he had the requisite ice flowing in his veins again. His running shoes squeaked on the polished marble floor as he crossed the lobby to the bank of elevators.

  He punched the button and waited, not surprised to see the car was occupied by his contact Dale Nichols. "A personal escort is a thoughtful touch," Ross said over a hand shake when they were alone in the elevator.

  "With you it's more of a safety protocol," Dale muttered.

  "Hey, all my permits are up to date."

  "Uh-huh."

  It was a friendly ritual, one they didn't share often enough since Dale had been wounded in combat and forced out of their unit. "Is the girl here?"

  The elevator doors opened, and Dale led the way, bypassing a receptionist desk and taking the first left. "First, tell me about your charge. Ms. Williams, right?"

  "She's safe. Decided to hide her in plain sight since the secure location was compromised."

  Dale's eyes narrowed while he studied Ross. "You already have a lead on the sniper."

  "Maybe. That's why I'm here."

  "Good grief, you always suspect everyone and their shadow."

  "Always." Ross raised an eyebrow. "When did you stop doing the same?"

  Dale ignored him. "I should thank you for sending me her prints. She popped for a few open cases in DC and Virginia. It was why we came down and picked her up."

  "Impersonating a law officer is a big deal." Ross shrugged. "Any of that related to this case?"

  "Depends on what you're expecting to relate."

  With an eye roll for the cryptic talk, Ross dropped into the chair near Dale's desk. There was a short stack of files carefully placed so Ross couldn't easily read the names. He gave his friend credit for knowing how to get under his skin and tried to shake it off. "Got anything unclassified you plan to share?"

  Ross knew their previous life in Special Forces was the only reason he'd been allowed inside the office. The FBI wasn't big on Ross' type of investigations and recovery team, no matter their proven track record. He also knew that if his superiors asked, Dale would call him an asset rather than a problem. He appreciated the benefits of the bonds made while dodging bullets on those dark op missions, and he intended to leverage it to help Allie. "Sure. To save you some time and hassle, she and her pal - now dead thanks to you - drove into Haleswood at the request of Bradley Roberts."

  Ross sat up straight, ready to light into Dale for keeping this to himself even for a few hours, but Dale held up a hand. "Be careful what you say to me."

  "Noted," Ross replied with a curt nod. "So they had orders to wait for Al- Ms. Williams and take her down?"

  "Take her alive, actually. The girl swears she doesn't know why her pal opened fire. Maybe he didn't know his basic gun safety."

  "Right." He didn't believe that for a minute.

  "This is pretty sticky."

  Ross heard the invitation to share the latest news. "Roberts has embezzled millions over the years and recently framed Ms. Williams for the same crime. Additionally, someone filed a claim on the guy's corporate life insurance policy."

  "Standard procedure, I'm sure."

  "Except Roberts isn't dead. He called me less than an hour ago. Threatening me while I was on the way here," Ross said through gritted teeth. "You should know the beneficiary listed is Ms. Williams with an address in the Cayman Islands."

  "Interesting." Dale leaned back in his chair as if that didn't matter, but Ross wasn't buying the careless routine. "You're sure she's innocent."

  "Yes." Ross managed to answer without yelling or punching anything. "I've got a video from a bank lobby showing Roberts stopped by after his death."

  "Inadmissible, I'm sure."

  "You could always request your own copy."

  "I'll make a note. What else?"

  "Roberts sent someone else to take another shot at Ms. Williams."

  "According to my prisoner only two gangbangers came this way."

  Ross struggled for patience. He and Dale weren't exactly on the same side here. Though both of them wanted to take down the bad guy, they had opposing methods. "What's more important to your case? Roberts alive and talking or dead and done? I can deliver him either way."

  "You're confident." Dale drummed his fingers against the stack of files. "Based on the preliminaries from the forensic accountants, a
live would be better."

  "What about the faulty new drug?"

  "You mean the theory of the faulty new drug."

  Ross knew he had him on the hook, it was a matter of keeping him there. "Ms. Williams is willing to provide the proof you need to unravel all of that too."

  "Technically -"

  "Don't just hand it off, Dale," he said, knowing his friend would happily send the data to the FDA. "Not without taking a hard look at the evidence she's offering first. Roberts wants to escape with his money. He could have left immediately, but he's still here and he has a serious hard on for this data."

  "And you sent her out in public hoping he'll come after her."

  "Well, yeah." Ross wasn't sure he could deal with another lecture about using Allie as bait. Even though Dale would see the situation more objectively than Eva. "It's Haleswood. No one will let her get hurt."

  "Then why do you need to talk to my prisoner at all?"

  "If I'm right, your prisoner can confirm who leaked Ms. Williams' location." And if he got lucky, she might give Dale a lead on whoever Roberts needed to pay off. The man had plenty in the offshore account and yet he wasn't leaving the states, was in fact grabbing more money at every turn. Maybe it was pride, but all the background data had Ross thinking there was someone Roberts needed to settle with before he could retire to a secluded beach with his nest egg.

  "Come on," he urged. "Give me the five minutes you promised. There's nothing to lose."

  Dale sighed as he got to his feet. "This will be interesting."

  Ross followed his friend down an interior hallway to the area designed for interrogation. Pairs of doors opened to what Ross knew to be soundproofed rooms connected by shatterproof, one way glass. Of each pair of doors, one led to a cramped room with state of the art recording equipment where agents and techs could keep an eye on the interrogation on the other side of the glass.

  Ross was surprised when Dale led him into an observation room that overlooked an empty interrogation room. "Where is she?"

  "The car's probably stuck in traffic," Dale replied, already pulling out his phone. "Or there's a paperwork glitch." While he waited for an answer on the other end of the line, he cued up the previous interrogation record for Ross' viewing.

  He watched and listened, not gaining much that would help Allie when suddenly Dale swore. He signaled Ross to stay quiet while he switched his phone to speaker mode.

  "I'm signing in now," he said, setting the phone aside while his fingers worked the keyboard.

  "File is sent, sir," came the voice on the other end.

  Ross looked over Dale's shoulder, waiting for whatever had his friend so agitated.

  "And the sign in log," Dale snapped.

  "Scanning it now, sir."

  "Got it," Dale said when two new emails arrived. He disconnected the call and turned to Ross. "My prisoner is dead."

  "What?" Ross wasn't even sure he'd said the word aloud. "What the hell happened?"

  Dale pointed at the screen.

  Ross watched the silent video feed play out, studying the lanky man in a business suit who visited the girl's cell. It looked like they shared a brief conversation, split a candy bar, and then the guy left. The video jumped forward a few minutes later, showing the girl on her bunk. A few more minutes and FBI detail arrived, only to discover she was dead.

  Based on the suit, Ross would bet the stranger had signed in posing as her lawyer. The killer was obviously familiar with the lock up because he managed to prevent any of the cameras capturing a clear shot of his face during the trip to and from the cell.

  Damn.

  The running time and date on the video feed showed the deadly visit went down just over an hour before the FBI's arrival. How did they know?

  Ross considered Roberts' long reach and fast moves as he sorted through the most likely explanations. Roberts had been resourceful hiring the gang bangers and finding someone to be the body when he faked his death, but this definitely ratcheted things up another notch.

  Dale was back on the phone shouting at the guard on duty down in the lock up, so Ross clicked on the screen shot of the sign in log, looking for names. There was nothing so obvious as the real name of someone on Cochran's staff, but that was the conclusion Ross couldn't avoid. No one had access to those uniforms, knew Allie would be hiding out with him, or knew how to walk in and out of a jail unquestioned.

  He couldn't risk Dale's reputation or clearance by forwarding the email out of the FBI system, but he made a quick note of the names on the log that were closest to the time of the visit. Replaying the video one more time, he looked for any clue to the man's identity.

  "Ask him what kind of candy bar that is." Dale looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Do it!"

  Dale relayed the question and answer for Ross. "Clark bar."

  The same brand Eva had found in the woods after the sniper attempt. "I'm outta here." His instincts were blazing with theories and his gut agreed. Allie was in danger. From Roberts and whoever wanted to control the money and the stolen data. He had to get back to her immediately. "Good luck, man," he said on his way out the door.

  "Wait!" Dale called after him.

  Ross stopped, though he didn't want to. He didn't want to give Dale any hint of his plans or his worries.

  "I want that meeting with Ms. Williams."

  "So you believe me that Roberts isn't dead?"

  The FBI interest was exactly what he'd told Allie they needed, but after watching that murder, he'd changed his mind. "You've got Roberts as soon as you catch the guy who waltzed in and out of the lockup. I know it won't take long for you to find him. By now, they probably already know which name is bogus."

  "You owe me a meeting."

  "Then you owe her some protection. By now, if he's shown himself, my team has tagged his car." It was only a mild embellishment, but Eva would do it if she got the chance.

  "You should cooperate Carpenter."

  "What if I agree to bring you the bastard - alive - the banking information and the data? Your whole case, gift wrapped."

  Dale shook his head. "Face to face with the witness. I want her wired and briefed on the confession we need."

  Ross didn't like the sound of that. "You get her wired up and chatty about something she isn't supposed to know and you'll get her killed."

  "It's a wonder she's alive anyway," Dale said with all the concern he might show a cockroach who'd survived nuclear war.

  Ross snarled and barely contained the urge to tear Dale's head off.

  "Whoa. What is she to you?"

  My hang up. My weakness. My baggage.

  My heart.

  He couldn't say any of that to Dale without getting his man card revoked. When they'd worked together, Ross hadn't bothered vocalizing his opinions that emotional entanglements left a soldier vulnerable in the field. Back then his behavior and silence on all matters of family, hearth, and home spoke for him. Right now, his ridiculously possessive reaction proved the theory he'd clung to: having someone to go home too only distracted you and made the assigned task more challenging.

  He never should have taken Allie to the lake house. He would've held out, been stronger against the sexual temptation, if they hadn't been sharing quarters right where he'd buried his deepest memories and feelings for her.

  "Ross?"

  "Be careful what you say to me," Ross warned, tossing Dale's earlier words back at him. "Ms. Williams is under my team's protection." He clamped his mouth shut before he rudely pointed out that Allie was still alive.

  "I'll be in Haleswood this evening. Make her available."

  Ross nodded. "Call the office line when you're close and we'll give you directions." He turned and stalked out. He knew he had to cooperate with the feds and still it grated against his overwhelming need to protect Allie.

  Too antsy for the elevator, the urgency riding him harder than ever, he took the stairs down two and a time. In the car, the few minutes it took to reach the interstate felt
like hours.

  He dialed Eva's number and listened to the status report. So far no Roberts, but she said Allie appeared to be charming the regulars with lots of conversation.

  "Don't let her out of your sight," he said.

  "No problem, boss."

  "If Rick calls in – "

  "Already did. We have a full update on –"

  "I'll get that in person." He didn't think Dale would have ordered a lackey to plant a bug in his car, but it wasn't outside the realm of possibilities.

  "Okay. Anything I need to know? You sound jacked up."

  He debated for only a second. If Dale had bugged the car, his next order could get his team busted. But Allie's safety trumped his concerns about theoretical sanctions. "Check the financials on Cochran's staff."

  "Will do."

  "And don't let anything happen to her."

  He disconnected before Eva could pester him for more details.

  * * *

  Bradley Roberts watched the Midnight Rooster from the second floor of the health club across the street. His contact in town had done an excellent job scaring her out of the woods and back into his reach.

  This small, close-knit town made his skin crawl with their friendly and genuine concern, but he knew how to mingle, how to offer answers in line with what the other person needed to hear. Sure he was a stranger, but he had them convinced he was a friendly sort looking for a place to retire.

  That seemed to be the golden phrase. Every time one of the natives heard that, the response was another rendition of the myriad benefits of Haleswood. It was an example of his tremendous fortitude that he hadn't shot himself out of boredom.

  Being charming was getting old, but he was so close to the goal now. The light at the end of the tunnel was glowing bright as the sun on his personal stretch of tropical beach.

  Soon he'd have Allie at the business end of a gun, unlocking his bank codes so he could get the real retirement party started.

  He'd drained that worthless charity fund, putting an end to the annoying whining of his contact at the FDA. The bug of a man had panicked at the first hint of trouble. As if the allegations of someone like Allie Williams, from Hickville, couldn't be managed even if she found someone to believe her.