With eyes smoldering, he remarked, “You are more dangerous nude and seemingly helpless than you ever were dressed with a gun in hand.”
She smiled slowly, looking him in the eyes as she earnestly replied, “Thank you, Riley.”
“Oh, you’re very welcome, Jordan.”
Her eyes widened that he knew her name and his grin broadened at the sight. Sudden fury ripped through her as she flushed crimson.
“You bastard,” she snarled.
He shushed her. “Why so mad?”
“Oh, don’t play the fool with me! You flirted just to surprise me with the truth that you know my name.”
“Believe me, my flirting is as sincere as it gets.”
She blushed again because she knew deep down that it was true and suddenly hated him for it. Could she hide nothing from Riley Kendall?
“That’s the last you’ll get out of me,” she snapped.
“I intend to get every last bit of pleasure from our interactions, Jordan. And you will give me what I want willingly, sooner or later.”
“You pig!” She spat at him point blank and felt satisfied with the direct hit. He leaned forward and used her hair to wipe the spit off his cheek as she growled in frustration. One thing was apparent—Riley was a master of turning the tables. “How did you learn my name?”
He straightened up, seeming like he was having a grand old time. “The guy listed as T on your messenger app called you that. He and I were texting a minute ago.”
This time she stiffened and stopped breathing, the whites around her eyes showing. Oh shit. What did he learn? What did he say?
Riley asked, “Would you like to hear about the conversation I had with him?”
“Very much,” she said, voice strained.
“Then tell me what I want to know. Who wants me dead?”
She closed her eyes and let out a long breath through her nose, sinking into the bed as she turned her face away. Christ, this could be really bad. She had to know what they’d discussed but there was no way she could tell Riley what he wanted to know.
“You mean besides me?” she asked faintly.
He took her chin in one hand and pulled her face back to him. Jordan opened her eyes to see his gaze like steel, all playfulness gone. “No more games. Who is trying to kill me?”
“Go to hell.”
Riley rose and went to the dresser where his gun lay beside hers. He picked it up and turned back with a menacing look that vanished on hearing a door bang open downstairs.
“Riley?” a man’s deep voice called. “It’s Quinn and Kris. Where are you?”
Chapter 4 – The Search
“Don’t go anywhere,” Riley commanded Jordan, smirking. She couldn’t get out of the restraints. He’d secured enough prisoners to know how to do it right—Marines were trained to do that—but overconfidence was how people screwed up. He wasn’t going far anyway and had no intention of leaving her alone. After one last admiring gaze, he threw the covers over her, leaving just her head and both hands and feet sticking out. Then he took the guns and stepped into the hall toward the stairs.
He called down, “Up here. Bring my shirt.”
Footsteps neared the stairs from below before his burly mountain of an older brother, Quinn, appeared, an inquisitive look creasing his brow. At six foot four, Quinn cut an imposing figure and made Kris, mounting the stairs behind him, all but invisible as she followed, Coby beside her. Quinn’s shaggy brown hair added to the impression he was a bear, a neatly trimmed beard framing his strong jaw and easy smile. “What happened to the picture of Mom?” he asked.
“Bullet.”
Quinn cocked an eyebrow. “Gun go off by accident?”
“Not exactly.” Riley appreciated the silence that followed this. Quinn had learned to wait until Riley wanted to say more. The Marine wasn’t one to answer questions he didn’t feel like answering. Prying got nowhere and his siblings knew not to bug him.
The big guy and Kris stopped atop the stairs. Kris had her long, black hair in a ponytail, and wore brown riding boots, breeches, and a tight, green T-shirt. Growing up dealing with the two brothers now beside her had given her confidence, a sharp gaze, and a take-no-bullshit demeanor that intimidated many men.
“What’s going on?” she asked, handing Riley his black T-shirt, which had a bunch of white skulls on it.
Riley moved to the partially closed bedroom door and opened it to check on Jordan, who turned to frown at him, still restrained. His siblings caught a peek, as intended. “I have a prisoner.”
“I can see that,” said Kris, smirking. “Don’t you need some alone time to, you know, do your usual business?”
He gave a wry smile. “What makes you think I haven’t already finished with that?”
“Your reputation.”
Riley laughed. “Okay, this is serious. She’s a sniper. Tried to kill me not an hour ago.”
Quinn’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Are you kidding?”
“No. I’m not sure who sent her but I already have some leads. Her bullet broke the picture. If I hadn’t dropped something right when she fired, it would be me lying broken on the floor right now.”
Kris’ eyes narrowed and she took a step toward Jordan. “Fucking bitch. I’ll find out—”
“Whoa there.” Riley put an arm on her, surprised by how much strength he needed to exert to stop his sister. “Let me handle this.”
She turned fiery eyes on her little brother. “Then why did you send the dog for us?”
Before Riley had a chance to answer, Quinn brought up something. “You called Cousin Ryan?”
Riley shook his head. “No. I’ll handle this.”
“C’mon, man. This is attempted murder.”
“If Ryan gets involved, then he’s another Kendall mixed up in this, but even worse is that he’s a cop.”
“That’s exactly why we need him,” Quinn argued.
“No. If the cops come, I won’t get the truth out of her.”
“Of course you will. What makes you think you’d get more out of her than them?”
Riley hesitated and then admitted, “Because I can do things that are illegal.”
Quinn gave him a concerned look. “Tell me you don’t mean torture.”
“Call it whatever you like.”
“Jesus, Riley.”
“Look, don’t get all high and mighty on me. She tried to kill me, remember? In war, anything goes.”
Looking eager, Kris admitted, “He’s got a point.”
Quinn frowned. “I don’t like it. And when did you get so harsh?”
She shrugged, eyes hard.
“You don’t have to like it,” said Riley, before realizing that sounded mean. He softened his tone. “If I don’t get the truth out of her, whoever hired her can just send someone else to finish the job. I’m not gonna be a sitting duck. That means me leaving. Possibly for good.”
Kris arched an eyebrow. “What? Why?”
“Because if I stay here, you guys can get caught in the crossfire.”
Quinn’s eyes widened. “Shit.”
“Exactly. And do you want me on the run my whole life?”
“Of course not.”
“Then I have to get this information.”
Kris asked, “What about the Marines? Surely they can get it out of her.”
“Probably, but then I have to wait, if they ever tell me. I don’t like it. I want to know I’m safe, not think I am. That goes for all of you, too. Right now I’m in charge. I want to keep it that way.”
Quinn sighed, crossing his arms and glancing through the closed door. “Okay, I changed my mind. We keep Ryan out of it. For now.”
Kris asked, “What are you gonna do when you find out who hired her?”
The Marine replied, “Track them down and kill them. If there’s a hit out on me, she isn’t the only one willing and able to do the job.”
“Jesus,” said Quinn. “Just what did you do in the Marines?”
“K
ill people. Important people. Dangerous ones. With friends. I guess somebody figured out who I am and wants revenge. Can’t say I blame whoever it is.”
Kris asked, “I thought everything was covert?”
“Shit happens. People have ways of finding out things.”
“Wouldn’t support from the Marines make this easier?” Quinn asked.
“Maybe. I want info first. Then I’ll call them, depending on what I learn.”
The big guy looked at the closed door again. “So what now?”
“I want both of you to stay here and watch her. She’s cuffed to the bed and there’s no way she’s getting out, but I don’t want her unattended.”
“You’re sure she can’t escape?”
“I’d say 100% but I’ve never liked overconfidence. She’s a trained killer, so that’s why I want both of you on her.”
Quinn said, “That doesn’t make me very comfortable.”
That surprised Riley, for his older brother could crack heads with the best of them. “Keep your distance, and if she somehow gets off the bed, just hit her with the Taser I’ll give you and you’ll be able to secure her again.”
Quinn nodded. “Yeah I remember practicing with one.”
Kris looked at him askance. “Really? When was that?”
The big guy smiled. “We like to goof around over here.”
“Do tell.” To Riley, she remarked, “So I assume you’re going somewhere. How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
“Depends. Shouldn’t take long to find her perch she shot at me from. I’ll radio when I’m done there and if I get a feel for where her car is. I should find a trail toward it, narrowing the search area. I have a key.” He held it up, the manufacturer logo visible. “A Ford. That’s where I’ll find more info, which will help me interrogate her.”
“How long?”
Riley shrugged, glancing at the deepening shadow of Sugarloaf Mountain outside the window. “Minutes for the perch. Maybe an hour for the car. We’ll see. Have to find the gun before it gets any darker out.”
“I think I should go with you,” Kris suggested.
“Why? You don’t know how to do this kind of work.”
“Because you tend to look suspicious and a little scary, especially when you’ve got that pissed look in your eye. Me being with you will smooth things over with anyone we meet while searching for the car. Besides, do you trust me with that girl in there?”
Quinn chuckled. “She’s got a point.”
Riley said, “Don’t talk to her. In fact, stay out of there. Just watch from out here.”
Quinn shrugged. Riley frowned but figured his brother would do as he asked. He usually did despite being the oldest and technically the head of the family since their parents died. Quinn ran the family winery while Kris, the next oldest, ran Sugarloaf Stables. Their younger sister Chloe worked at the stables, too, while Connor and Tristan, the youngest, ran the family bed-and-breakfast and Kendall Motorsports respectively. Only Riley was unattached, working security for all of them. And yet he was the one whose life was in danger, and if he didn’t find out who was behind it, the others could get caught up in it.
“You have to do what I tell you,” he said to Kris, not wanting any screw-ups. “That goes for both of you.”
“Sure,” Kris agreed.
“Stay here a minute. I need to gather some shit.”
Riley went into the master bedroom and closet, stashing Jordan’s gun in his safe and tucking his own into his pants. He emerged minutes later with a Taser, earpieces, three radios, a gun scope, and a small backpack. He gave a radio and earpiece to Kris and Quinn, though Kris would hopefully be staying with him the whole time. Quinn was to stay outside the room, Taser in hand, but leave the door cracked enough to keep an eye on Jordan, so Riley grabbed him a chair to get comfortable.
Downstairs, from the living room where he’d been sitting when the bullet shattered the picture, he looked through the scope to get an idea where Jordan might’ve fired from, marking possible locations in his head. After a final stop in the kitchen to take water with them, he set off with Kris across the backyard, which was empty save for a few tables to use as perches for the range.
“Let’s take to the trees,” he suggested, stepping into the mountain’s shadow. “Stay behind me.”
“Why?”
“She came down from her perch this way and might’ve left signs to follow back.”
“Just what the hell happened, Riley?”
He related the details, leaving off the part about Jordan’s nudity, though he doubted Kris would disapprove. Still, she was a little more astute than he sometimes wanted and he didn’t want her to sense his attraction to the would-be murderer. He didn’t need anyone pointing out that his interest could compromise his investigation. He had it under control, well aware that this was exactly what people who didn’t have it under control thought of themselves.
But he was a sniper. Self-restraint came with the job. So did long hours of holding very still and waiting for one moment of intense action, which was sometimes immediately followed by an all-hell-has-broken-loose run for your life. He wondered about Jordan’s choice to kill this way. She could’ve just knocked on the door and, when he answered, shot him. That had its disadvantages, such as being caught more easily, or blood getting on her, but she must’ve thought the rifle was the safest, least messy way. Maybe he’d interrogate her for that tidbit later. He’d enjoyed their conversation more than he should’ve, not only for her boner-inducing defiance, taut muscles, and silky skin tones, but for the fun he’d had teasing information out of her. She responded so vivaciously that he wondered what would happen if he got his fingers, lips, and tongue on her.
He and Kris climbed a short hill separately, scanning for signs of Jordan’s passage or weapon and not seeing much.
“She may have stashed it,” Riley observed, “but she came to the house quickly.”
“We don’t get much foot traffic here, so maybe not.”
“Never hurts to be careful.” As he said it, he pulled out the scope and looked back at the house, realizing Jordan had likely been farther to one side because he couldn’t see the picture she’d hit, so he moved that way, using his sniper’s experience to figure out where he would’ve taken the same shot from. He began to purposefully survey the area, and quickly homed in on a likely spot, when his eyes caught the black of a bag mostly buried under leaves. By the look of it, hastily. Calling Kris over, he brushed the leaves off and wasn’t surprised to find a soft, rectangular rifle case. Lifting the flap revealed the weapon lying inside, unfastened as if she’d put it in fast and gone for the house.
“Jesus, you really weren’t kidding,” Kris remarked, stopping beside him. “Anything interesting?”
“Not yet.” He rifled through the bag’s exterior pockets, briefly wondering why Jordan hadn’t left the car keys here. But then if someone had found the bag, she’d be out a ride. And likely a purse or something similar, which he expected to find at the car. He only found spare bullets, gun cleaning items, and a few other items of no real interest. Zipping up the bag, he rose and slung it over one shoulder.
“Time to find the car,” Kris suggested.
“Yeah. Let me update Quinn.” Riley clicked the radio’s talk button and got Quinn’s attention, relaying details.
Quinn’s deep voice came over the radio. “She’s been asking for water.”
Riley answered, “Forget it. She hasn’t been captive that long. I don’t want you getting that close in case she tries something.”
“Okay.”
Riley clicked it off and followed Kris, who’d already found signs of recent passage that strongly suggested where Jordan had come from. They began climbing toward the mountain’s top.
“Would it be faster to just take a car up there?” Kris asked. “There are only a few parking areas and the car has to be at one of them.”
“Maybe, but it’s probably about the same.”
“Fai
r enough.”
It didn’t take long to reach a narrow trail, bumpy with mostly-buried rocks the size of a turkey everywhere underfoot. This required a certain amount of watching their step to avoid twisting an ankle, but the Kendalls had been climbing all over this mountain since they were kids. Both of them were in good shape and easily ascended nearly a thousand feet toward the first parking area. They passed other hikers more often as they neared the top, since that’s where most people started hiking from.
“Good thing that case you’re carrying isn’t shaped like a usual one,” Kris remarked as they neared one of several lookout points for sightseers, where the first parking area lay.
Riley nodded. “No surprise. I use a rectangular one in urban areas, too, so it’s less obvious what I’m carrying.” Other rifle cases sloped along one side in such a way that anyone who recognized that would realize what he carried.
The trail widened and opened into a cleared area where pine needles littered the ground among a handful of widely spaced picnic tables, a trash bin, and a board telling people about Sugarloaf Mountain. Pulling out the car key, Riley approached the two rows of parked cars just beyond, his eyes on the lookout for a Ford. Each time he saw one, he pressed the key fob, but none of the cars reacted.
“Up there,” Kris suggested, nodding at a dozen cars parked around the corner. Like all mountain roads, this one twisted back and forth. Since the lot was full on this warm summer day, some people had elected to park on the winding road. The siblings walked through the stand of trees separating them and on the first click of the fob, the lights on a white Mustang convertible flashed in the growing dusk.
“Interesting choice of cars,” Kris remarked, heading that way.
Riley (The Kendall Family #3) Page 3