Target: A Military Romance (Unwanted Soldiers Book 1)
Page 9
Shit. I needed to get her out of here, needed to sweep the place for threats, and needed to see if anything could be done for Poppy. Except I had nowhere safe to stash her. With the bodyguard dead, her apartment could be compromised as well.
"I need you to stay right here. You understand? I have to make sure no one else is here. Do not move."
She finally nodded to show she understood.
The small apartment was sparsely furnished, allowing me to clear it quickly. Whoever killed the guard, and possibly Poppy, had gone. I squeezed Lauren's arm to reassure her, then pushed my way into the bathroom.
Poppy was gone. I knew before I even checked his pulse. If I'd had any doubts, the gaping wound in the side of his neck would have put them to rest. Someone had severed his carotid artery and left him to bleed out. No obvious clues as to who that someone might be jumped out at me, and I knew better than to poke around.
I went back out to Lauren. "I have to make some calls. You do not leave my side, not for any reason. Understand?"
As soon as she nodded, I pulled my phone out. My first call went to Eric McKinley. I gave him a quick rundown of the situation.
"Okay. Keep the client secure. I'll be right there. I'll call a detective I know on the way." He hung up, leaving me relieved over not having to make a fucking nine-one-one call.
I brought up Rufus' number and hit dial. Surprisingly, it rang three time before he answered. "Trouble, man." Once more, I explained.
"Flag and X-Man are already in town. I'll get them en route to you right now. You want them to take a room at the place you're staying?"
I agreed quickly.
Rufus continued. "I'm hacking the cameras the security people installed. Maybe we'll get lucky." He ended the call, promising to call as soon as he had something.
Finished with the phone, I turned to Lauren. "Why are you over here?"
She wiped her eyes with the bottom of the oversized T-shirt she had on, giving me a glimpse of her bare belly as she did so. "I needed to talk to someone. Poppy is the only friend I actually have left. Jared pushed everyone else away." Barely contained grief hovered, ready to overflow.
I paused for a second, taking in the angry bruise that covered half her face. Yeah, she probably needed a friend for support right now. It killed me that she lost the person she considered her only remaining friend. "You didn't hear anything before you came over?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. When I came out, the man who was supposed to be keeping me safe was sound asleep. I just left him, and came on in." Her swollen eyes widened a little. "Will Poppy be okay? You called an ambulance for him, right?"
Fuck, I hated telling her. "No, baby, he won't be okay." I pulled her into my arms. "Poppy didn't make it."
She collapsed against me with a sob. "But why?"
At a total loss for what to do, I just held her and let her cry. "I wish I knew."
She clung to me for dear life, her little fists knotted into my shirt, while her tears soaked through to my skin. Helpless, I stroked her hair and tried to comfort her. We stood that way for an eternity.
The doorknob rattled. Alarmed, I put Lauren behind me and drew my 9mm.
"Ross? It's McKinley."
I was acutely aware of standing in what appeared to be a murder scene, and that at the moment, I couldn't trust anyone. Lauren seemed clear on those facts as well, pressing close to my back as I moved to open the door.
The lock released with a snick when I turned it. "Come in. Slow. Hands where I can see them."
The door swung open, and McKinley stepped through, hands at shoulder height. He closed the door with his foot. "You have the client?"
"She's safe." The lack of lighting played in my favor. I should have put Lauren in another room, out of the direct line of fire for the moment. Having her stand behind me, my body shielding her from view, seemed like a decent alternative, though.
McKinley nodded. "Good. Okay, where's the body? You disturb anything?"
The 9mm felt comfortable in my grip, so while I lowered it, I didn't holster it. "Bathroom. Through there. The only disturbance I'm aware of is where I opened the door enough to get inside, and I checked his pulse."
"Good. Detective Mason will be here in about five minutes. Okay if I talk to Miss Johnson first?"
I reached behind me and took her hand. "It's okay, I'm right here."
Lauren stepped up alongside me, clinging to my hand like a lifeline. "What do you need to know?" Tremors wracked her body, but she managed to hold her sobs back for the time being.
McKinley nodded. "Miss Johnson, I'm Eric McKinley, owner of the firm that handles your security. What can you tell me about the guard in the stairwell?"
One shoulder lifted a little. "Nothing really. I only met him when he came on duty. Then when I came over here, he was asleep in the chair." Her voice sounded as hoarse and shaken as I expected, but strong, too.
I volunteered further information. "He was the same when I got here. Only not sleeping, as I found out when I slapped him."
A demanding knock came at the door, and Lauren jumped, clinging to my arm. "Police."
I gestured for McKinley to handle that, and led Lauren into Poppy's kitchen. This shit sucked. Too damn many unknowns coming in, and I couldn't trust a single one of them with her. I really needed to get her somewhere safe, but at the moment, by my side would have to do.
Quiet voices rumbled in the hall, then McKinley called for Lauren. "Miss Johnson, this is Detective Mason. He needs you to tell him exactly what you found, and everything you noticed before and after. Any connection to you and the Senator will be kept absolutely quiet."
"Thank you." Despite the tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes, the frightened, insecure Lauren disappeared, replaced by the public façade I recognized from photos. She explained quickly and clearly, even though her voice sounded hoarse from crying.
The detective made some notes in a little pad. "And why did you call Mr. Ross, instead of the authorities?"
"I was terrified. Mr. Ross said I could call him whenever I needed to. I didn't know if whoever hurt my friend was still here, and I was afraid if the police came, they would assume I was the one who hurt Poppy. Senator Richardson wouldn't be pleased with that sort of scandal." The only crack in her voice came when she mentioned Poppy by name. For the rest of it, she could have been reciting a well-rehearsed speech.
Detective Mason nodded. "Okay. I need to know how to reach you if more questions come up, but for now, you can go."
Lauren nodded and recited her phone number, and told the detective she lived across the hall.
"Except she won't be there. I'm moving her to a secure location." I gave my number as well.
McKinley raised an eyebrow at me, but stayed silent, until I asked him to accompany us across the hall so Lauren could get some of her things. I kept her near the door while he cleared the place, room by room.
"Mind telling me what's up?" McKinley leaned against the wall while Lauren packed a bag.
I debated for moment what to tell him. Richardson could easily have cameras or listening devices inside the apartment, and others could as well, so anything I said had to be sanitized. "She's upset. She has to be at her best for all those fundraisers, so I'm taking her to a nice hotel I know. No one will bother her there."
He nodded. "Good point. I'm sure the Senator would agree." Digging in his pocket, he pulled out his wallet. "Here. Put it on the company card. I'll add it to Richardson's tab."
I took the card, careful to handle it by the edges, and slid it into my shirt pocket. He better have a spare, because I would dump that one at the first opportunity. "Thanks, I'll do that."
"Get with me later with the details. I'll find someone to relieve you right away. You're on downtime."
"Nah, I'm good. Just have someone meet me at the Senator's in the morning." I had no intentions of letting anyone else near Lauren until my own men were in place.
McKinley waited to walk down with Lauren and me. He off
ered to give us a ride to the hotel, but I insisted we would call a cab. When he would have waited with us, I flatly refused. He might have thought it odd, but in the end, the lure of getting back to his quiet evening won out.
I shouldered Lauren's bag and took her hand. "Come on."
"I thought we were getting a cab?"
I glanced around for any signs of a tail. "Sorry, I'd rather no one follows us." Thank God I'd taken the time to familiarize myself with the area a little.
Gray eyes widened with alarm. "You think someone might?"
"I’m not willing to take the chance. What happened might be entirely unrelated to you, but I can't rule it out, either. So for tonight, we're dropping off the grid." That reminded me of the credit card. Still careful to touch only the edges just in case someone decided to scan it for prints, I dropped it behind a dumpster as we turned down the alley. I had no intention of being tracked via an RFID chip embedded in the damn thing.
We made good time, keeping to narrow alleys and back streets. I even led her through a couple of back yards when no alternative presented itself. The rear of the restaurant where I'd had dinner appeared on my left.
"Did you eat this evening?"
She shook her head. "I was a little preoccupied."
Rather than reply, I just led her into the back of the restaurant. The woman in the kitchen seemed unsurprised, and took our order, then motioned us to a bench by the exit. Ten minutes later, she handed me a bag of takeout containers filled with all sorts of goodness.
We came out onto the street next to the motel, and I led Lauren to my room and opened the door. "Sorry, it's not as nice as you're used to, but it's the safest right now. Anyone trying to keep an eye on you will be watching all the nice places."
She looked around, placed her bag on the worn dresser, and sat down at the table. "This is fine." She looked up at me, wide gray eyes filled with tears again. "Thank you, Trick. I was so scared. I didn't know what to do."
I shrugged, unsure what to say. "I'm just glad I was nearby. I won't let anything happen to you." Suddenly awkward, I searched for something to do. My gaze landed on the bag from the restaurant. "Here, let's get you something to eat. You'll feel better."
She rummaged in the bag. "I'll never be able to eat all this."
I smiled. "We have a microwave, and I'm pretty sure the leftovers are as good as it is fresh. I could just about live in that place." While Lauren ate, I set about making the place as secure as a room in a cheap motel could be. A knife wedged between the door and frame ensured no one could open it from outside. A spare blanket hung over the window kept prying eyes out since the blinds refused to close completely.
With that taken care of, I quickly checked my weapons. Flag and X-Man should arrive soon, so I could ease up a little then. In the meantime, I wasn't taking any chances. Sleeping arrangements presented the next concern. Lauren would take the bed, of course. I could make do with the floor, a chair, or just about any semi-horizontal surface.
Chapter thirteen
Despite the horrors of the last few hours, I felt safer than I had in the last several months. With Trick, I knew with certainty no harm could come to me. The guns and knives that might have terrified me any other time gave me a sense of security. The pacifist in my nature should be horrified at the thought, but the woman in me was comforted by the thought of a man willing and able to kill to keep me safe. And I had no doubts he would do exactly that.
I put the food in the little dorm-sized refrigerator, and freshened up. Leaving the tiny bathroom, I found Trick sitting on the edge of the bed, the TV remote in his hand.
He glanced over his shoulder at me. "Oh, hey. I was just checking the news to make sure that detective kept his word. So far, absolutely nothing."
A wave of guilt assailed me. Poppy deserved acknowledgement in death. "Maybe I should, I don't know…go public with the whole thing?" Tears stung my eyes again. Poppy had been a good man, and a good friend. He should be mourned accordingly, not treated like some criminal to be brushed under the rug.
Trick dropped the remote on the nightstand and came to me. "Look, Lauren. I don't give a shit how it might make the Senator look. My only concern here is your safety." He took my hands and led me to sit on the side of the bed. "The person who murdered Poppy might have been there simply for that. But an ER nurse usually doesn't make that kind of enemies. If I had to guess, I would say Poppy interrupted him on the way to hurt you, either when he killed the guard, or right after."
A shiver of fear passed over me. "I-I hadn't thought of that." I rubbed my palms over my suddenly frigid arms. "So what's next? I mean, I can't stay hidden forever." No matter how much I wished I could. It would be the perfect solution. Just disappear. But eventually, I would need to contact my family, or something. So hiding forever wasn't an option. And apparently, if I wanted to live, I couldn't go out and tell the world what a great person and friend Poppy had been. Even though I tried to hold them back, the tears spilled over again.
Trick put his arms around me, warm and comforting. "You have to meet Richardson for breakfast, just like always, right?"
I nodded and brushed tears away. "Yes, the only way out of that would be if I had something contagious."
He chuckled. "Okay, then. You get a good night's rest. We'll deal with that in the morning, since we can't give you chicken pox, or something."
Suddenly, I remembered. "Oh, no! I totally forgot! Jared called earlier. He said the Texas trip has been moved up. We're leaving at eleven."
Trick seemed to consider, then nodded. "Okay. That might be for the best. At least you won't be in the usual places if someone is trying to harm you."
"So it's okay?" Dread settled in at the thought of being stuck in a hotel with Jared. At least, for the sake of propriety, he always had me stay in a separate room, but it would still be close, where I couldn't really get away from him. And I would have to be careful to hide my grief over Poppy. The first hint of tears over a gay man would bring on a massive blowout from Jared.
"I'll be there, too. And before McKinley came over, I made a call to an old buddy. I don't know McKinley and his men, so a couple of guys I do know will be here in the morning. I'll make sure the three of us have your detail for the trip." He sounded so confident, as if there were no chance of things not going the way he planned.
I wished I shared his confidence, but I knew Jared, and that fact sent a shiver of fear racing over my skin. I couldn't shake the feeling that this trip would become a disaster, but if I said so to Trick, he would think I was just an over-emotional female. "Okay, then. Jared's assistant is supposed to come to my apartment in the morning to help me pack."
"How about you get some rest then. You take the bed. I'm fine in the chair. We'll get back over to your place early." He went over to the dresser and pulled out an extra pillow and spare blanket, folding them into the chair by the table.
"Oh, no, I can't take your bed." I felt terrible. Already, I had asked far too much of him. "I'll take the chair."
He laughed. "Nonsense. I'm used to catching a nap whenever and wherever. That chair's a far better bed than many I've had. Bathroom is yours first."
I finished quickly in the bathroom, and slid under the covers while he was in there. I hadn't shared a room since I was a kid, and never with a man. Nerves kept me still and silent when he came out, but I needn't have bothered.
From all indications, he didn't even glance in my direction. His blanket rustled for a moment, and the chair creaked as he sat down, but his breathing went deep and even right away. Maybe he really could sleep whenever and wherever he wanted.
The bed smelled like Trick, clean and masculine. I slowly relaxed into it, and finally fell into a restless sleep, tormented by dreams of a man who enflamed my senses with a single touch, held me when I cried, and protected me from the vague monsters who chased me through the night. The pounding of my heart woke me, and real terror set in when I realized my legs were trapped.
Immediately, Trick
touched me. "Shh, it's okay, Lauren. I got you. Nothing can hurt you." He tucked me into his arms until my breathing returned to normal. "You okay now?"
"I'm sorry for waking you." The mumbled apology fell from my lips as he lowered me to my pillow and straightened the covers.
One finger lingered on my cheek. "Don't apologize, baby. I'm here for you." And just like that, he was gone again.
No further nightmares haunted my sleep. Instead, my subconscious seemed obsessed with Trick, and the feel of his touch. Just on the basis of his fingers on my back, and on my neck, and faintest hint of a kiss, my brain conjured up so much more. Wicked and carnal, the dreams left me even more restless than earlier. Finally, at some point, I fell into a deep sleep.
Trick woke me by touching my shoulder. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. Time to get moving."
I stared up at him in surprise for a few seconds. Nothing in my life would ever be the same again. Not after dreaming of Trick's hands on my skin, then waking to find him there, looking so drowsy and relaxed, and unforgivably sexy.
"I'm sorry. Didn't meant to startle you." He moved away, oblivious to my silent prayers for him to stay close. "Bathroom's yours first. I'm going to make us some coffee."
I hurried to get dressed in the jeans and top I brought with me, and just tied my hair up, since nothing I did with it would be suitable anyway. Makeup would wait until we got back to my place. It would take far more than what I had in my overnight bag to cover the bruises on my face, anyway.
The smell of coffee greeted me as I left the bathroom, followed closely by the sight of Trick's bare chest. He handed me a plastic cup. "I'm sorry it's not as good as what you're used to."
Unable to tear my gaze from him, I accepted the cup and tried a sip. "Okay, that's bad."
He laughed, throwing his head back a little, making the muscles in his chest stand out in relief. "Yeah, it is." He took the cup back, entirely unaware of his effect on me. "Uh, sorry, I'll be ready in just a minute."
It only took a minute to throw my things back in my bag while I wrestled with my guilt. Not only should I not be thinking of Trick like that, I also shouldn't allow those thoughts to distract me from Poppy's death.