“Okay, calm down.” His voice softened but his breath turned ragged, as if he were running. “Where are you now?”
“In my bedroom. I knocked her out with my taser and ran to my room. I have her gun in case she comes in here.” A slight tremor rippled through her hands and she squeezed the butt of the gun to steady them. She couldn’t let fear stop her from protecting herself if need be.
“You’re still in the apartment? Where’s the woman who broke in?” The panic in Graham’s voice made her blood pressure spike.
“She’s passed out on the kitchen floor. I don’t know how long she’ll stay down. I didn’t know what to do. I thought she was going to kill me, but then my roommate came home.” Her breaths hitched and sharp, shallow gasps wedged in her throat. “Oh my God, Lydia. I told her to run. What if she comes in and gets hurt?”
“I’m going to hang up and call the police. Keep your phone right beside you. I’ll call you right back. I’m close by, but I might need backup and I want them on their way.”
“Okay. Hurry.” She shifted the gun in one hand and held the phone in the other. Her gaze locked on the screen and she willed it to ring. Agent Grassi couldn’t do anything until he got there, but it made her more confident just having him on the phone.
Seconds stretched out like hours. She kept her body as still as possible, her ears tuned into every shift and groan of the old apartment. Her phone vibrated in her hand, and she swallowed back tears of relief as Agent Grassi’s number popped up on the screen.
“Hello?” The word came out on the release of a pent-up breath.
“The police are on their way. Your roommate called them.”
A million scenarios played in her head of Lydia getting caught in the middle of this mess. Becca was missing. She didn’t need Lydia getting hurt because of her too. She couldn’t live with herself.
“She’s across the street at a coffee shop waiting for the cops. She’s fine, and she did the right thing by getting the hell out of there and calling the police.” An irritated sigh sounded through the phone. “You should have gotten out of there, too.”
Irritation intertwined with her fear. “She said someone was waiting downstairs. I didn’t want to get away from one psychopath just to run into another,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
“I should be there before the police, so hold tight. Have you heard any activity?”
“I haven’t heard anything. But my door’s closed, and the kitchen is down the hall. I don’t know if I’d hear her if she moved around.”
“If she woke up and planned on coming after you, there’d be no reason for her to try and be quiet. You’d know.”
Great, just what I wanted to hear.
Her heart stopped beating for a second and she held her breath. She strained her ear toward the door. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Good. I’m turning the corner right now. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
“Be careful. She has long blond hair and I don’t know if she had any other weapons on her.” The guy might be a dick, but she didn’t want him to get hurt.
“I’ll be fine,” he said with another annoying laugh. “I’m going to hang up now. I’m the first one here, and I need both hands.”
Panic tore through her. She didn’t want to get off the phone. As stupid as it sounded, he was her lifeline right now. “Why do you need both hands?”
A beat passed before he said, “In case I need my gun. Keep your phone close in case you need it. Do you know how to use a gun?”
“Point and shoot?”
“Good enough. Hang tight.”
The call disconnected and she laid her phone face up on her lap. She wrapped both of her hands around the grip of the gun and kept her eyes locked on the door. The front door banged open and a muffled yell floated down the hall. Adrenaline sparked from her nerve endings, causing her teeth to clatter and her foot to bounce up and down on the shaggy rug. Graham was here, but it didn’t mean she was safe yet.
Heavy footsteps barreled toward her. “Mickey, I’m here,” he called out.
The vise of fear squeezing her lungs loosened, but her frayed nerves stayed on high alert. She kept the gun trained on the door.
Bam!
Another door slammed open. The sudden burst of noise made her jump.
Bam!
And another. This one closer and louder. Probably the bathroom door right next to her room. Her grip tightened around the gun. Please, Lord, let that be Graham
Bam!
Her door burst open, wood splintering from the doorframe, and Graham swung into her room. His legs stood firm, his feet planted on the ground. Both arms stretched out in front of him and a gun, much like the one she held, was aimed at her. His eyes darted around the room, and he walked in slowly.
She stood. “What the hell is your problem? You could have knocked, or just opened the damn door. You scared the shit out of me.”
His intense gray eyes hardened and his jaw tightened. “Are you alone in here?”
“Yes, dammit.” She lifted her hands in frustration. “Who do you think would be in here?”
Graham dropped the gun to his side, his gaze never leaving hers. “I don’t know. But there sure as hell isn’t anyone out there.”
Chapter Six
She must think he was a damn idiot.
He’d rushed over here, broken down the door, and found absolutely nothing wrong. And why had she called him instead of the police? It didn’t make any sense. The weight of his gun hung heavy in his hand as it dangled at his side. He studied Mickey. Red blotches dotted her porcelain skin and her dark pupils overpowered her irises. Her hands shook, causing the gun to bounce in her too-tight grip. He walked over to her dresser and yanked a T-shirt from the top drawer. With the soft cotton cupped in his hand, he eased the gun from hands and her arms dropped to her sides. The last thing he needed was for her to accidentally pull the trigger.
Maybe it wouldn’t be an accident.
She eyed him wearily. “What do you mean nobody’s out there?”
He held the gun away from his body. He needed to have it checked for prints, and he didn’t want to contaminate what they might find. His brows rose at the question. “I mean the only person in this apartment is you.”
Mickey shook her head and the corners of her mouth dipped down in a frown. “That doesn’t make sense. She’s got to be here somewhere. I used my taser on her. Wouldn’t the stun keep her off her feet for a while?”
“It depends on how powerful the taser is. Have you ever used it before?”
“No. My dad bought it for me when I moved into the city after college. I always assumed it’d keep someone off their feet for a while, at least enough time to get away.”
Graham bit back a smart-ass retort. He couldn’t let his irritation show. He needed to keep her calm so she could give him some damn answers. Pushing aside her ignorance of a weapon she owned, a weapon she could hurt someone with if she didn’t know what the hell she was doing, he said, “I’ve checked the entire apartment. I don’t even see a sign of a struggle in the kitchen where you claimed she was passed out on the floor.”
If the fire from her hard stare could have burned him, he’d need a paramedic. A small vein running down her forehead bulged. “Where I claimed? Do you think I made it up?”
He lifted his shoulders. “I honestly don’t know.”
Her jaw tightened; she jumped to her feet and pushed past him.
Great job keeping her calm.
He jammed his gun into the smooth leather of the holster on his belt. Cool metal pressed against a tiny spot of skin above his waistband, sending a shiver up his spine. His eyes did a quick scan of her bedroom. The room was small, with just enough space for a double bed and an armoire tucked in the corner. A soft pink bedspread with some sort of gray swirls covered the bed, not like he could see much of it. Clothes lay everywhere, their discarded hangers thrown carelessly on the floor. The woman was a slob.
Turning
on his heel, he walked out of the room and found Mickey in the kitchen. The top of the table was as cluttered as her room. Mickey’s arms swiped the papers from side to side, uncovering bits of wood from underneath. Paper rustled as she picked up magazines and loose newspaper pages and shook them in the air.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he watched with annoyance.
“My key. I can’t find my key.” She didn’t stop shifting through the clutter as she spoke. “She threw it on the table, but it’s not here.”
Graham walked to the counter and set down the gun he’d taken from her, making sure it stayed nestled in the shirt. “How did she get a key to your apartment?” His mind raced as he continued to watch her. No matter how much he wanted to believe the redheaded knockout with the killer body had nothing to do with the case, he couldn’t ignore all the glaringly obvious signs that told him otherwise.
Mickey dropped to her hands and knees and her head disappeared under the table, giving him an excellent view of her ass. His jaw dropped and he groaned out his frustration. “She had my spare key. She said Pete gave it to her.”
“Convenient.”
Her body jerked and the top of her head slammed against the table. “Sonofabitch!” She crawled out from underneath the table and rubbed the top of her head, tousling the strands of her already messy hair.
This was the first time he’d seen her hair down, and his fingers itched to tame the wild wisps around her face. He crossed his ankles as he leaned against the counter and plunged his hands in his pockets to keep from doing something stupid.
She scrambled to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her cleavage up toward the scoop neck of her tank top. He fought to keep his eyes on her face. Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Do you think I made this whole story up?”
“I don’t know.” His gaze stayed locked on her and he tried to keep his facial expression passive.
Her jaw tightened. “What could I possibly gain by calling you, asking for you to help me, and making up a story about a woman breaking into my house and trying to kill me?”
“Why’d you call me and not 911?”
She blew a long, slow breath out of her mouth and sank down into one of the chairs at the table. “After you left earlier, I went to Suzi’s and tried to talk to her.”
“What did she say?”
Moisture clouded over her tawny eyes and her shoulders dropped. “She’s pissed I brought Pete into Becca’s life, and then told me to leave. On my way home, I knew I had to do whatever I could to find her. There has to be something Pete said over the past four months that could help. So, when I got home, I planned to call you. I put your number in my phone, but the woman pressed a gun to my head before I could press send.”
“When you got away from her, you just called the number that was already there?”
“Yes. It’s not like it was a friend or something. You’re FBI. I figured calling you would be just as good as calling the cops.”
He nodded, taking in her words, but didn’t speak.
Her eyes widened. “You don’t believe me.”
“I’m trying to figure this all out. What did this woman say to you?” He wanted to sit down beside her, but he needed to keep his distance. His mind wouldn’t be focused on separating fact from fiction if he was consumed with figuring out what she did to smell so damn good all the time.
Mickey rested her elbows on the table and rubbed her temples, her eyes closed as her slender fingers massaged the spot. Graham took the opportunity to let his gaze roam from the top of her vibrant red hair, down the smooth lines of her bare arms, over to the healthy curve of her breasts under her shirt. Her eyes flew open and their gazes locked.
Lust pooled in his gut and his chest tightened. A sexy blush engulfed her high cheekbones, and she quickly glanced away. “Umm…she said she needed to tie up loose ends before she and Pete left town.” Her fingers picked at the crumbled newspaper lying on the table and she avoided his gaze.
Her words snapped his mind back to focus. “Why would you be a loose end? You told me you didn’t know what Pete was up to.”
“I don’t!” Her fingers traveled from her temples to her hair and she fisted it in her hands before pushing herself up from the table. She faced him, a finger pointed at his chest. “I called you for help, and you’re treating me like criminal.”
“Then why was someone threatening your life to keep you quiet?”
If anyone had been here at all.
Tears spilled over her long lashes and ran down her face. She let them fall and dropped her hand to her side. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
He sighed and a war twisted inside him. Nothing about Mickey added up, but he couldn’t look past the nagging voice in the back of his head yelling at him to trust her.
Knock, knock, knock
Graham glanced up at the police officer pounding on the doorframe. He nodded a silent greeting and the police officer pressed his lips into a thin line. A second officer stood beside him, his hand on the butt of the gun in his holster.
“We were called in to investigate a possibly dangerous situation at this residence,” the older cop with the cool green eyes said.
“I’m Special Agent Graham Grassi with the FBI. Miss O’Shay”—he nodded toward Mickey, who stood in front of him, her back to the door—“called me directly.”
The younger cop with his hand on his gun glanced around the apartment. “Where’s the intruder? The roommate is downstairs and is a bit of a mess.”
Mickey whirled around. “Lydia’s downstairs?”
The older cop nodded. “She was told to wait downstairs until we allowed her access. We were unaware the threat had been taken care of.” One eyebrow raised, he stared at Graham.
“The woman in question was gone by the time I got here.” He dipped his chin toward Mickey. “You’re going to want to take her statement. I’ll talk to you when you’re finished.”
Ignoring the sparks shooting from Mickey’s stare, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and walked into the hallway. He turned his back to the door to the apartment and called Eric.
“Hey. Did you find something?” Eric asked after he answered on the second ring.
“More like something found me,” Graham said.
“Huh?”
“I was on my way to talk to the family of the first girl who went missing, who just happens to live in the west loop close to both Miss O’Shay and the Stanleys, when I got a frantic call from Miss O’Shay.” He glanced over his shoulder. Fear and confusion played out on Mickey’s face as she talked to the cops. “She claims someone broke in and tried to kill her.”
Eric cleared his throat on the other end of the line. “Claims?”
Graham squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed a hand over the deep creases in his forehead. “When I got here, she had locked herself in her room and had a gun in her hands, but no one else was here. She says she used a taser on the back of a woman’s neck in her kitchen, but there’s no woman passed out on the floor.”
“Did you check the setting on the taser?”
“I didn’t get that far. The cops showed up. Besides, even if the cartridge confirms she shot it, it doesn’t mean she used it against an intruder. I did grab the gun she claims the woman pressed to her head. We can try to get prints and I’ll look up the registration number.” He dropped his hand and paced back and forth in the small hallway. “Her roommate called the police when she tried to get in and Mickey yelled at her to get out.”
“Did you talk to the roommate? Did she see anything?”
Annoyance flared. He should have waited to call Eric, but he’d wanted some insight. “Again, I haven’t gotten that far. She’s downstairs. I’ll talk to her while the cops take Mickey’s statement.”
“Good plan.” Eric coughed and phlegm rattled in his throat. “Did Miss O’Shay see what the woman looked like?”
“Oh my God, dude, I got here ten minutes ago. All she said was the woman had blond hair.�
� He took a breath and collected himself. His nerves were on edge with this case. He didn’t need to snap and take it out on his partner. “I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
“Okay. Let me know when you find out more.” A beat passed before he added, “I think you’re right about one of us needing to go to Mexico. I haven’t found Pete’s place in Chicago, but I found a house near Playa Del Carmen listed under the name Paula Montgomery.”
Graham stopped moving and searched his memory for that name. It didn’t ring a bell. “Who’s Paula Montgomery?”
“Paula is the name of Pete Bogart’s stepsister and Montgomery is his grandmother’s maiden name. We need to check it out.”
A low whistle whizzed between his teeth. “He buried that pretty good. How did you figure it out?”
“I’m that good,” Eric said with a smile in his voice before he turned serious. “I’ll go alone if you want to stay in Chicago.”
Beads of sweat broke out on the base of his neck as flashbacks of the plane plummeting toward the ground assaulted him. He couldn’t let it paralyze him. He needed to get back on the horse…or the plane. “How about you head there tomorrow and if you need me to meet you, I’ll book a flight as soon as I conduct interviews with the family? We don’t have shit to go on in Chicago. Maybe the leads in Mexico will prove more lucrative.”
“We’ve got Miss O’Shay. She might be the only lead we need.”
A brick dropped in the pit of his stomach. Eric might be right. “It shouldn’t be long before we find out. I’ll call you later.”
He clicked off, put his phone in his pocket, and started down the stairs. If Mickey’s roommate was waiting outside, he wanted to talk to her before she saw Mickey. He opened the door and blinked several times so his eyes could adjust to the evening light. It didn’t take long. It never got too dark in the city.
Only a few people lingered on the sidewalk, and it didn’t take him long to spot Mickey’s roommate. He’d never seen her before, but there was no mistaking the petite woman with raven hair wringing her hands. Her wide eyes stared at the front door to the building and he slowed his gait, approaching her slowly.
Bound by Danger Page 5