At Close Range

by Laura Griffin

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Dani?”

  “Sounds fine.”

  She glanced at him. His face was shadowed, but she could see the tension in his eyes.

  “Sorry.” She swiped at her cheeks. “Please don’t tell anyone I had a meltdown.”

  He looked perplexed. “Who would I tell?”

  “I don’t know. My brothers.”

  “Jesus.”

  Tears filled her eyes again and she looked away. What the hell was wrong with her? She was a homicide cop.

  “Hey.”

  She shook her head.

  “Hey.” He took her hand. “Look at me.”

  She did.

  “It’s okay. It’s a natural reaction to stress.”

  She laughed through her tears. “Stress? That’s what you call seeing someone die and . . . and getting shot at and driving through smoke and fire?”

  He just stared at her, and the look on his face made her laugh again because he was so impossibly calm and she felt like she was losing it. And maybe she was losing it, because the damn tears started pouring out again.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He reached over and cupped the side of her face. “It’s all right.” He kissed her forehead. “Stop apologizing.” He kissed her lips and his mouth hovered over hers. “It’s okay, Daniele.”

  She kissed him. It was light and soft, and he kissed her back just as softly. His fingers felt rough against her cheek but his touch was gentle as he wiped her tears with his thumb. He made a low, soothing sound, and she felt her shoulders relax. The tightness in her chest started to loosen as she leaned into the kiss and really tasted him. It was slow and sweet—different from their other kisses. This one was about comfort. She knew that. She also knew she should pull away, but she only wanted to drink him in. His hand slid down to curve around her waist, and he pulled her closer, and she twisted her body to get a better angle.

  Then everything turned hot. His mouth. His hands. His tongue. She combed her fingers into his hair and pulled him close, and he dragged her across the console. She shouldn’t be doing this. He was injured. He might even still be bleeding, but she couldn’t let go of him.

  His tongue delved into her mouth and tangled with hers, and she ran her hands over his face and felt the stubble on his jaw and smelled the smoke on his skin. And she couldn’t believe they were doing this, but she didn’t want to stop and neither did he. His hand slid under her jacket and around her waist, and he pulled her onto his lap.

  An ear-piercing whelp had her jumping back. She turned and blinked at a patrol car that had pulled up behind them. Inside it were two big silhouettes.

  “No loitering,” came a voice over an electronic megaphone. “Please move along.”

  Dani slid into her seat and glanced at Scott.

  He glowered at the rearview mirror. But when he glanced in her direction, his expression softened. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She straightened her clothes and looked out the window. “Come on, let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Fifteen minutes later she was shaking. Still. Scott didn’t know if it was fear or pain or emotion, or maybe a combination of all three. Whatever it was, it was having a definite effect that was impossible to ignore.

  What the hell was wrong with him? Minutes ago they’d nearly been killed, and he’d never been so hard for this girl. She was bleeding, for Christ’s sake, and he wanted to pull the damn car over and pound himself into her just to convince them both that they were still alive.

  It was twisted. Definitely. But that didn’t make it any less real, and Scott shifted in his seat, hoping she wouldn’t notice what was going on with him. He had to get himself under control because she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it.

  He focused on the road, going through events in his head and retracing every step from this afternoon. The more time he had to consider everything, the less he liked what it told him about their attackers. The first cold-bore shot was the toughest, and the shooter had nearly made it from more than five hundred yards out.

  A bullet behaved differently coming out of a cold gun. In combat, you didn’t get the benefit of practice shots to warm up yourself or your weapon. The very first shot had to be right on target. No second chances. The importance of this concept had been drilled into Scott during sniper training. Every day, he had to be on the range at 0600 with his rifle and a single bullet. Making that first cold-bore shot took skill. Precision. Training.

  Scott had no doubt that whoever put Dani in his sights had all three.

  Scott spotted their exit sign and veered off the highway as Dani stared out the window. He passed a couple of gas stations and fast-food joints before turning into what looked to be the bigger of the town’s two visible motels. The place was two stories and mostly occupied, judging from all the cars and trucks crammed into the parking lot. Scott checked the window of the motel office, hoping to get a glimpse of whoever was working behind the desk.

  The clerk was young and female, which was their first stroke of luck since not having their heads blown off.

  “What are we doing?” Dani asked.

  “I told you. We need to regroup.”

  “You mean overnight?”

  He definitely heard the alarm in her voice, and he did his best to look unfazed. “I need to clean up. And get something to eat.”

  She looked at him like he was crazy.

  “And I need to dress this wound,” he said, playing on her sympathy.

  Her expression instantly turned worried. “You need an ER.”

  “I need a shower.” He pushed the door open and glanced at her. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in five.”

  • • •

  Yeah, right. Where would she go?

  She watched him disappear into the motel office, still feeling dazed by everything that had happened. He had his leather jacket on again and he walked in there with his typical swagger, his lady-killer smile up and operating as he approached the clerk, who surely had bad news for him about the availability of a room.

  Crowded is good. We can blend in.

  Dani glanced around at all the cars and SUVs filling the parking lot, many with out-of-state plates. They definitely had overflow from the music fest here, and Dani highly doubted Scott would be able to land them a room.

  Which probably meant the shower he so desperately needed was going to end up being a rinse-off in some gas station bathroom.

  Which was for the better. They could get back on the road and hit the nearest emergency clinic on their way back to the crime scene, where they could give a statement to investigators.

  Dani closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose.

  What had just happened?

  She still didn’t understand it. She simply knew that she’d gone to interview someone, and minutes later he’d been killed.

  She’d nearly been killed, too.

  And Scott.

  Bile welled up in the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down. She opened her eyes and stared through the windshield at the traffic along the sidewalk—carefree young festivalgoers returning from cheap dinners to their cheap motel rooms with cases of cheap beer tucked under their arms.

  Scott stepped from the office. He held the door open for a pair of girls in halter tops, who smiled and ducked under his arm. One of them said something to him—something flirtatious, judging by the smile he gave her in response. Dani watched with resignation.

  Scott returned to the car and slid behind the wheel. He backed from the space, but instead of exiting the lot, he pulled around the side of the building.

  “No way did they have a room,” she said.

  “Two.”

  Two. The little word stung, but she tried not to react. “You said you wanted to go off the radar. What name did you give?”

  “I didn’t. I paid cash.”

  “Cash doesn’t matter. You still have to show ID.”

  He cut a glance at her,
as if to remind her that rules didn’t apply to him. How did he get away with this crap? He must have tipped the desk clerk. Or maybe all he’d had to do was wink at her.

  Scott pulled around back, out of view of the highway, and parked their little car in the shadow of a Dumpster. He grabbed his backpack and got out, popping the trunk as he did. He took out her roll-on suitcase and carried it as if it were a lunch box. Dani followed him across the lot, and he stopped in front of a gray door.

  “You’re here.” He shoved in the keycard. “I’m on the end there. One-sixteen.”

  Dani stepped into the dark, musty-smelling room, grateful for the dimness so he couldn’t see her face as he tossed the keycard on the dresser and dropped her suitcase onto the sagging double bed. What had she expected? That he’d check them into some fleabag motel and make wild, passionate love to her?

  He was exploring the room now, examining the window latch, opening the closet, leaning his head into the bathroom.

  “What in the world are you looking for?”

  He ignored the question as he stepped past her. “Stay in the room. Don’t drive anywhere, don’t walk anywhere, not even down the street, you got that? You need to keep a low profile.”

  “What I need to do is call my lieutenant. And I should probably call the local sheriff, too, and mention that I witnessed a murder in his jurisdiction. You know, just in case he’s interested.”

  Scott gazed down at her and had the nerve to look disapproving.

  She folded her arms over her chest. “What, you disagree?”

  “Do what you gotta do.”

  “I will.” She glared up at him. “What are you going to do?”

  “Take care of this shoulder. Clean up.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back here in twenty minutes, then we can make a plan.”

  She looked up at him, and something felt off. So many fears and questions were still tumbling through her mind, and she still felt shaky from the trauma of everything. But that wasn’t all it was. Something was off with Scott, too, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. She looked at his injured shoulder, and he moved for the door.

  “Secure the latch behind me.”

  She nodded, and he walked out without a backward glance.

  Dani latched the door. Then she stood beside the window, parting the heavy brown curtains to watch him as he walked down the sidewalk and let himself into his room.

  Dani glanced around. She took off her jacket and tossed it on the faded brown bedspread. Then she stepped into the bathroom and gazed with horror at her reflection.

  Her face and neck were smeared with dirt. Leaves clung to her hair, and the front of her T-shirt was covered in mud from taking a dive into that ditch.

  She leaned close to the mirror to examine a cut on her lip that she hadn’t noticed before. And then there were the tear tracks down her cheeks, a glaring reminder of how she’d totally lost her shit in the middle of a crisis. She looked like an escaped mental patient.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to shake it off. She had to pull herself together and handle this.

  First, a shower. She needed to clear her head, to think. She turned the water to hot and then retrieved some necessities from her suitcase. She stripped off her clothes and stepped under the steamy spray, and by the time she finished scrubbing away the dirt, she’d had a chance to formulate what she would tell both her lieutenant and the local sheriff.

  She’d had a chance to think about Scott, too. Two rooms. She tried not to let that hurt, but it did. After everything that had happened, after their kiss at the rest stop, she’d thought . . . Well, she’d thought wrong. And it was probably for the better, because everything was crazy enough right now without throwing sex into the mix.

  She stepped out of the shower and dried off with a miniature towel, then slipped into the only other clothes she had—a strappy black tank top and yoga pants. Next, she picked up her phone, took a deep breath, and dialed her lieutenant.

  Voice mail.

  She left a message and dialed Ric. He didn’t answer, either, and she sent him a text telling him to call her.

  Dani stared down at her phone, thinking. She tried to imagine the crime scene right now, swarming with emergency vehicles.

  Do what you gotta do.

  Her stomach knotted and she tossed her phone on the bed. She threw on some flip-flops, then grabbed the keycard off the dresser and hurried from her room, casting a look up and down the sidewalk as she strode up to room 116. She rapped on the door.

  A lamp glowed in the room, but she didn’t hear a television or running water, only the deep thump-thump coming from a room upstairs where someone was having a party. She stepped over to peek through the narrow gap between the curtains and saw a sliver of a bedspread that looked identical to hers.

  Two rooms.

  She rushed around the side of the building, but she already knew what she was going to find even before her gaze landed on the rusted Dumpster.

  “You lying son of a bitch.”

  The little yellow car was gone.

  • • •

  Scott pulled off the dirt road and checked the map on his phone. This was it. He cut the engine and the headlights and then got out and looked around.

  It was a full moon, at least. That would help. He leaned against the hood and waited. It would take twenty minutes, fifteen minimum, for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He would have loved a pair of night-vision goggles right about now, but all he had was what nature had given him, along with the compact tactical flashlight he kept stashed in his backpack.

  So he sat there among the spruce trees and waited for his pupils to dilate, wondering what Dani was doing and how many creative ways she’d come up with to maim him since she’d discovered he’d ditched her.

  Finally his eyes were ready and he set out. He moved due east toward the ridge, maneuvering his way through rocks and trees as he navigated the darkness. The intel he needed would have been a lot easier to gather in the daytime, but he figured by tomorrow this area would be crawling with law enforcement, and anyway he didn’t have time to wait.

  He was careful to keep his footsteps light and his tracks minimal. He had a vivid image in his head based on the Google satellite map he’d studied, and he knew his destination, he just had to find it in the dark. And, yeah, a pair of NVGs would have been nice, but he was trained to go by feel, too, and he didn’t mind the inconvenience. SEALs did some of their best work in the dark—and that wasn’t just a pickup line.

  The incline grew steeper. He was almost there. He felt tempted to check the map again, but the glow of the screen would screw up his vision, so he kept his phone in his pocket. He stepped through some trees and was rewarded with a killer view.

  The valley stretched out in front of him, a million shades of gray under the moon. Scott stepped up to the ridge and watched the flicker of flashlights six hundred yards away as emergency personnel worked the crime scene on Spruce Canyon Road.

  Scott stood for a moment just watching. The firefighters had responded quickly and managed to douse the blaze before it spread to the surrounding woods. So they were off to a strong start, but their investigation was only beginning, and they didn’t have a clue what they were up against.

  Scott didn’t know everything yet, but a few things were clear. They were dealing with two men, minimum, and at least one had a military background. It didn’t take a spec ops warrior to set a cabin on fire or to detonate an IED using a cell phone. But someone had to make the IED in the first place, and that took skill.

  The bomb had been brutally effective. But also careless. As murder weapons went, bombs were generally a bad option, especially stateside. Bombs tended to kill their targets, but they also tended to reveal a shitload of information about their makers.

  Even without examining the device itself, Scott could tell this guy was trained. But he was arrogant, too, which meant prone to mistakes.

  Scott shifted his attention away from the
activity across the valley and started exploring the ridge. He trekked along the edge of it, searching for an arrangement of rocks or trees or even just low bushes that would provide a decent hide. As he moved through the darkness, his thoughts kept going back to those critical moments earlier. When Scott had seen that bullet hit that tree, his heart had nearly stopped beating. And it hadn’t really started again until Dani was under him in the ditch, wide-eyed and trembling and alive, thank God. And although she probably wanted to strangle him right about now, Scott didn’t give a damn. His top priority was to keep her safe, and that trumped everything else.

  So she was safe now. Safe from bullets and IEDs, if not from him.

  He trekked through the darkness, trying to tamp down the frustration that had been tormenting him for days now. Weeks. Months. Dani was back at the motel, waiting for him. The thought of it put a knot in his gut, because he didn’t know what to do about it. Despite her tough talk, Dani had a weakness for him and had since she was a teenager. Even as a stupid, self-absorbed teen himself, he would have to have been blind not to see it. And he could still see it now.

  That weakness was messing up her judgment. She was too invested emotionally. Scott had known it since the day he became a suspect in her murder case. He was still a suspect, and even though they both knew he hadn’t done anything, that didn’t matter. He was on the wrong side of this case, yet he’d managed to convince her to let him come along on this trip. Then he’d convinced her to ignore law enforcement protocol by leaving that crime scene. Dani had risked her badge for him, and that told him a lot. It told him she was vulnerable, and the dead last thing he should do was take advantage of that vulnerability. It would be wrong for multiple reasons, including the simple fact that she was Drew’s little sister.

  If Scott had any loyalty to his best friend, any sense of the basic rules of decency, he’d forget about this thing with Dani. He’d forget how she looked and felt and tasted and he’d leave her alone.

  But Scott had never been much for rules. Or decency, really.