Military Heroes Romantic Suspense Collection
Page 46
"Ross has it covered, remember?"
"Does he?" She lurched to her feet before she let herself collapse on the comfort of his strong shoulder. "If he had someone on my family, wouldn't whoever Ross assigned have seen him?" She flung a hand at the monitor. "Wouldn't they have picked him up?"
"When was this taken? From what I understand this kind of software and search takes time."
"Yes. But it can't be a coincidence. I told them Bakr was already in the states."
She ranted, all of the emotion and worry, no matter how useless, pouring out of her in a mad rush of various languages. As she wound down, she found herself in Carson's warm embrace, his shirt damp from her angry tears. He didn't shush her, just held her steady until she ran out of words in every language.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled. She wasn't ready for him to let go. Sliding her arms around his waist she held tight. "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Do you trust Ross?"
"Yes."
"But that's not enough?"
"No." It only added to her misery. "It should be but it's not."
"So call them. Call your family."
"I can't use that thing Nichols gave me."
"Use my phone or Ruth's phone. You won't feel better until you call and I'm not dumb enough to take you shooting when you're this upset."
She looked up at him, blinked the tears away. "I want to go shooting. I need to get out of here for a while."
"That's the spirit." He turned her toward the kitchen. "Go make the call. I'll shut down the computers."
"But –"
He gave her a little push. "They trust me to protect you, they can deal with whatever I see in the process of shutting down a machine."
There it was again, his no-nonsense side that sent butterflies zipping through her belly as effectively as his sexy grin.
"Thanks." She picked up the landline in Ruth's kitchen and dialed her home number.
Her mother answered on the second ring with the annoyed 'hello' she saved for telemarketers and political callers.
"Hi, Mom. It's Eva."
"I can tell my daughters apart."
"I know. I know. How are you guys doing?"
"We're fine. Are you calling to tell me when your flight is coming in?"
"No, ma'am."
"What did you call me?"
Eva laughed at her slip up. "Sorry. It's sort of a habit down here."
"All the more reason you should come home for Christmas."
"I wish."
"You know, it wouldn't take much for me to convince your father to go south for the holidays."
"Don't do that either. I'll come home as soon as I can. I promise." She wanted to ask if her mother had seen anyone out of the ordinary, if anything odd had happened, but it seemed silly. Her mother wasn't the least bit distressed and if Ross said he had it covered, he did.
"When you left the Army I expected you to find work closer to home."
She smiled as the old discussion started to unfold. Usually it irritated her, this time she was comforted. "I love you, Mom," she said, smiling as the panic faded. "If I lived closer we'd only argue more."
Her mother chuckled. "Not about where you live. You know, I ran into Tony Accio yesterday."
Eva rolled her eyes. Talk of her high school boyfriend was as predictable as her living arrangements. "How's he doing?"
"He looked happy. Says he's engaged."
"Give him my congratulations," she said watching Carson clean up the kitchen. He'd been right. This was exactly what she needed. She'd have to find the right time to show her appreciation.
"I could tell him you looked happy if I ever saw you with my own eyes."
"Soon. I promise. Give everyone my love." She ended the call and, feeling a thousand times better, rushed over to hug Carson.
"Good idea. Great idea. Thanks." She stepped back, suddenly unsure what to do. "I'll, um, be ready in two minutes."
She dashed upstairs to check the mascara damage, thinking she could name on one hand the men in her life who made her weak-kneed and giddy inside. Tony Accio had been one of them, but she'd been seventeen and stupid.
Her mother might have had a wild, misplaced pipe dream of a Battaglia-Accio wedding and little Accio's getting underfoot at the holidays, but Tony hadn't been inclined to wait out Eva's Army plans.
The few men who'd interested her after Tony didn't compare to what she was feeling for Carson. She faced herself in the mirror, patted cool water on her heated cheeks. For a woman who didn't go for nice guys, the southern deputy in charge of her safety sure was pushing all the right buttons.
"I'm ready," she declared returning to the kitchen.
"Got the flash drive?"
She nodded. "Got the guns and ammo?"
"You bet."
"Is anyone planning on tailing us?"
"Probably. I wasn't going to worry about it."
She slid into the passenger seat. "Not even with our extra stop?"
He matched her whisper, leaning close. "Not even."
She almost kissed him. Again. Except somewhere between her meltdown and restored sense of empowerment, she decided that the next time they kissed she wouldn't stop, wouldn't let him stop. No, next time she wouldn't settle for an excuse about timing or anything else. From either one of them.
Just sitting here in the car, she felt drawn to him. The sensation got stronger with every contact. She had to wonder, maybe even hope, that the feeling would fade when they finally got their hands on each other. It would be so much cleaner if they could react to this attraction and be friends when her work here was done.
Carson wasn't surprised by the dark sedan tailing them out of Haleswood. The sheriff had warned him about the extra precaution. He had bigger concerns.
Specifically his grandmother's reaction to Eva. There was the small chance Wade had said something to the family about seeing that kiss. He'd learned the hard way age had done nothing to mellow the little brother factor. Right now he couldn't think of anything he'd done that would give Wade cause to seek revenge, probably because right now all he could think of was Eva.
"It's a gorgeous day," she said, rolling down the window.
"Feels good to be out of the house?"
"Definitely. It's a nice house, but there's only so much sitting still I can manage."
"Ross warned me you were prone to cabin fever."
"Only when there's nothing interesting on the Internet."
He smiled. "I hear fresh air and sunshine are important. Healthy even."
She sighed. "I suppose the rumor mill got that right." She rolled down her window and the blast of cold air teased strands of her dark hair out of her sleek ponytail.
"For the record, my grandmother is a founder of the local rumor mill."
"Thanks for the warning. But if she heard about you and Shannon at the hospital, it didn't come from me."
"Glad you can laugh about it."
"I can hardly throw stones." She shrugged. "I made a career out of eavesdropping and deciding which nuggets of info mattered more."
"Have you decided that Morcos being in New York doesn't matter?"
"Not exactly. I've decided to cling to what you said. To trust Ross and his resources. Bakr's made it obvious he wants me. Worse, he wants to mess with me. He can loiter all he wants in Queens, but that won't help his endgame."
Carson agreed. He didn't know the bastard messing with her, but he felt better about their chances of bringing him down when Eva wasn't battling her fears. When she'd turned into his arms it didn't matter that he didn't understand the words. He was able to give her something that steadied her. The feeling of knowing he'd helped her regain her self-control made him want to leap tall buildings.
"She'll behave while I introduce you," he said when they were close to the topiary gardens. "After that, you should prepare for the third degree."
"Won't be the first time. Your maternal relatives don't have the exclu
sive on invasive questions."
"See, now, I thought that sort of thing originated here."
"I think it's a genetic thing that happens when a woman becomes a mother and it kicks into overdrive when her 'babies' start dating."
"It's like you were a fly on the wall at my house," he said, making her smile. "Regardless of where or how the nosy habits began, it's likely she'll make some crack about you and me. So ignore that and just go do what you need to do on her computer. I'll field the personal questions."
He had to work not to squirm under her assessing glance.
"Got it," she said at last. "Sounds like you've got the harder task."
"I guess we won't know that until you have a look at the flash drive."
Her throaty laugh bubbled out of her and he gave himself a mental high five. He turned the car off the highway and into the long gravel drive. Neither of them were surprised when the dark sedan kept right on going.
"You okay?"
"Sure. They're on our side."
"True enough."
"Security is a good thing," she mumbled. "This is me refusing to worry."
"Glad to hear it," he said, pulling to a stop in front of the small building that served as the office and sales center.
"You could at least pretend you believe me."
"We'll get through this. We are getting through this. And I'm not just referring to your case."
He tipped his head a fraction at the main door where his grandmother stood beaming at them expectantly.
Carson made the introductions as soon as they were out of the car.
"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Morris." Eva extended her hand but his grandmother ignored it.
"Call me Sylvie, dear," she said draping her arm around Eva. "Let's go inside. It feels like snow."
Eva shot him a look over her shoulder, caught him rolling his eyes.
"He doubts me, all my grandchildren do, but my knees are never wrong."
"Grandma, Eva needs to borrow your computer for a few minutes."
"If you don't mind," Eva added.
"Not at all. Just ignore my mess back there. I've started the end of year reports," she explained.
The moment Eva was through the office door, Carson's grandma dropped the kind old lady routine in favor of the full-force information assault.
"Why, she is stunning. Everyone said so, but I wanted to see her myself. Heard you sat with her at Thanksgiving dinner at the Rooster."
"The whole town was sitting with her, Grandma."
"Not me." She winked. "Guess I left too early." She looked Carson up and down. "Just look at you. She makes you happy."
"I'm just working an assignment, Grandma."
"Don't expect me to believe that look in your eye is work related." She waved off his protest. "The O'Kelly girl never gave you that glow."
"Men don't glow."
"Not with her. Good riddance, I say."
"Grandma."
"She was a phase, that's all. We all go through them." She pointed to a cabinet behind the sales counter. "Pull out the plastic sheeting and help me set up for the afternoon class."
"You've got a class today?" It made him feel better that she wouldn't be out here alone. He didn't think Eva's troubles would spill over onto his family, but as a precaution he'd sent a request to Mrs. Jackson to arrange for visitors to drop in and check on her.
"It's a boy scout troop. You remember those days." She beamed up at him. "Want to stay? The kids would get a kick out of you snipping a rosemary into a spiral."
"As much as that appeals, we can't. We have other things on the schedule."
"Lovebirds would."
"Grandma, hush."
The older woman looked around. "You want to play hard to get, it's your choice, but she strikes me as the direct type."
"You've been chatting with Mrs. Jackson."
Ignoring him, she reached up and planted her wiry hands on his shoulders. "Just don't let her slip through your fingers."
He sighed, exasperated that she thought she saw something he wasn't yet sure about. Oh, he knew he was feeling something more serious than a crush, more than the proximity of the situation. He just didn't know how to convince Eva of that.
"You forget how well I know you. Knew you'd fall hard when it happened." She gave him a quick shake. "You'll figure it out."
He mumbled an agreement, anything to get some distance, and helped her set up the tables, tools, and plants for her class.
"I can't believe you were going to do this alone," he said. "You need to hire someone."
"Maybe. Your sister will be along eventually."
"Good." He knew he shouldn't feel guilty for choosing law enforcement. Yet every time he walked in here he had this overwhelming sense that he'd let her down.
His father had invested a life here, learning the business from before he could walk and building on the solid foundation. Carson had learned at his father's side and quickly realized it wasn't where he wanted to spend his life.
He enjoyed certain aspects of the topiary gardens, and nursery and landscaping were a good hobby, but day in and day out, this place just wasn't the career for him.
When his dad died, his grandparents abruptly dispensed with the idea of retirement and stepped right back into the role of primary business owners. He and his siblings were splitting their time to help out, but it wasn't the same as having a successor.
"Where's Pop?"
"I sent him off to Columbia with the last minute shopping list."
"So he has time to shop for your gift."
"You are a smart boy," she said with a chuckle. "Marriage takes understanding, work, and more than a little finagling."
Eva stepped out of the office, her face pale. He wanted to ask, but knew it wasn't the wrong time.
"Did you get what you needed?"
"Yes." She bobbed her head. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Morris."
"Sylvie."
"Sylvie," Eva repeated. "We should be going, unless you need Carson to stay?"
"Not at all. He says you have plans. Go on," she shooed them toward the door. "Enjoy."
Carson waited until they were in the car. "Can you talk about it?"
She shook her head. "Don't want to just yet."
He kept quiet as he headed toward the shooting range. There had to be some sort of small talk he could offer, but he couldn't think of anything other than questions related to the flash drive.
"My grandmother hadn't met you before." Way to go, Deputy Inane.
"Really? I was sure I'd seen everyone in this town at least once."
Her quiet, distracted reply told him more than anything else. She was worried by whatever she'd seen on that flash drive.
"She won't be alone."
He felt her staring at him. "Come on. You're worried. If it has anything to do with using my grandmother's computer, you can relax. She won't be alone."
"We just left her alone."
"My sister is on her way. A boy scout troop is on the way. And Mrs. Jackson has probably drawn up a spreadsheet to schedule visitors by now."
"Mrs. Jackson doesn't like spreadsheets."
"You know what I mean."
"When did you put all those precautions into place?"
"I can only take credit for Mrs. Jackson."
"You told me not to worry."
"You told me you weren't worrying," he countered. He preferred the attitude she was giving him now. He reached over and took her hand. "Focus on dealing with your case. I'll worry about the local details."
"Thanks." She slid her hand away. "Here's hoping the two don't collide."
Chapter 11
The plane touched down on the runway and taxied toward the small terminal. Bakr unbuckled his seat belt and turned on his phone.
"Sir," the steward stepped forward. "You have a call."
He accepted the aircraft handset and waited until the steward had moved out of earshot.
"Yes?"
"She's out of the hous
e."
"Where?"
"They've stopped at a police-owned firing range."
She hadn't fled from the intruder, yet she willingly left the safety of that house for target practice. Interesting. "The bodyguard is with her?"
"Yes. He is a sheriff's deputy."
"The same man who has been with her?"
"Yes."
"Kill him." The small town officer had proven himself valuable to her. The man's blood would be on her hands. More guilt, more leverage to use against her.
"And the woman?"
"Leave her."
The man hesitated. Bakr gritted his teeth. Annoying yes, but it would be foolish to ignore the instincts of the man in the field.
"You are questioning my orders?"
"Only that they would move her further from our reach."
"She will not let them take her out of the game. Her value is greatest behind the computer. Everything else is a distraction. We shall drive her back to her real work."
"Yes, sir."
Bakr set the phone aside as the aircraft rolled to a stop. As the stairs were lowered, he draped his heavy wool coat over his arm. The cool day was balmy compared to the snow he'd left in New York.
He might come to enjoy the south, if he could find a place free of the general population. Space, solitude, and control were highest on his personal agenda. Of course once the queen restored the money and information his nephew had stolen, he could safely live anywhere.
He realized with no small shock he would miss the queen when the game was over. His mind immediately started reviewing other entertaining options as the rental car pulled to a stop.
It might be fun to sell off Morcos Construction in small, liquidation-priced chunks. He turned the idea around, assessing the pros and cons, but just the thought of the potential uproar put a small smile on his face.
With a bit of creative accounting, he could bankrupt them while maintaining control of the major financial and intellectual assets.
A few months of living on a depleted income would bring his family begging him for his ideas and assistance.