by C. A. Szarek
“He got away,” Nate said. Not really a question, but Lee nodded and came over to him.
His gaze ate her up, and he wanted to sweep her into his arms, feel every inch of her body to make sure she was okay. He didn’t. They weren’t alone.
“Driver was waiting. They peeled out of the parking lot even before we could get the plate. But it was New York, not Jersey. Black Cadillac Escalade. Guy musta run a hundred miles an hour down the stairs. Damn, he was fast.”
The other agent’s words were lost when Lee’s eyes locked onto Nate. He couldn’t move as she stared, appraising him. “Are you all right?” she demanded. Lee didn’t touch him, either. But her expression shouted concern.
Nate’s heart flipped. “I am. Are you?”
She gestured as if it was an afterthought, but nodded again.
“Police are on their way,” Nate said.
“Thanks. So are our guys,” the other agent said, coming closer to them.
“Jeremy Stewart, Nate Crane,” Lee said, holstering her weapon. She stared at her fellow agent. “Stewart— Not that I’m complaining, but what the hell are you doing here?”
“I was headed to meet up with Roberts at the other secure location. But I caught notice of a familiar vehicle—Caselli-issued—and decided to follow instead.”
“They were headed here,” Dawson said. One dark eyebrow arched, as if she could see the lie coming out of his mouth for what it was.
Jeremy’s heart skipped. “I was shocked, too. As far as I know, no one knew the locations but us. Just our unit.”
“Did you check in with Roberts?”
“Not yet. Obviously I was busy here.” He swallowed his urge to defend his actions. He needed to act natural. He had to get away with this. Jeremy’s answers had to make sense. Give him an alibi.
The text messages he’d exchanged with Evan danced into his mind, but he tamped his rising panic. They wouldn’t suspect him. There was no reason to think he’d lied. No reason to pull his phone records.
He’d grabbed his partner’s cell and destroyed it, anyway. Ditched it along with the Beretta Caselli had given him. He ignored the voice that reminded him since he’d made an effort to take the phone, his team was likely to wonder why it was missing. He’d probably just put a spotlight on it. Shit.
It’s gonna be okay. He chanted it, trying to ignore the way Lee Dawson was appraising him. His palms were clammy, and he fought a bad case of the shakes. No doubt his forehead was sweaty, but Jeremy could always blame that on the adrenaline dump from their recent run. Combined with the stress of a shooting, of course.
“Jesus Christ.” The curse fell from the mouth of Special Agent Clint Downs, Dawson’s partner.
“That about says it all,” Dawson said as members of their unit poured into the apartment.
“What the hell happened?” Downs asked.
Bobby Smythe and his partner fanned out, surveying the damage and taking a look at the dead guy.
They had the ‘do you recognise him?’ convo, before Smythe’s partner dug out the guy’s wallet and held up a driver’s licence belonging to one Michael Bellini.
Jeremy didn’t know the guy, but he’d known the other shooter. Hopefully Dawson wouldn’t attach any significance to Terry Agosti’s parting threat—no, promise. Caselli would see Jeremy’s actions as a betrayal. Might even send guys after him now.
When he’d seen the black SUV, anger had made his blood boil. He didn’t need back-up to handle his business—he’d already taken care of the first witness, and his partner.
Fuck Caselli for checking up on me.
It would bite him in the ass in the end, but Jeremy would show Caselli he’d deal with this situation on his terms. And hell, he’d inadvertently saved Dawson’s life.
He hated to admit it, but killing an innocent woman and having to shoot his partner had been too much. He could’ve stomached killing the other witness—after all, he’d had to—but not Lee Dawson. Not another member of his team.
Jeremy had wept like a pussy when he’d staged the scene to look like Evan had been surprised by shooters at the front door. He’d made sure to steer clear of his partner’s blood. No footprints, no fingerprints. Wiped everything as clean he could—but not too clean.
So his choice to shoot Caselli’s man had probably fucked him, but at least Dawson was alive. He’d call and promise the crime boss he’d get the job done. Make up a story about what had happened. He had to convince the man to leave Beth and the girls alone.
If Caselli went after his family, Jeremy would never forgive himself. He should call Beth and tell her to take the girls to her sister’s place in Maryland. With his luck, Caselli would find out. Plus his ex would have questions he couldn’t answer.
He fought the urge to close his eyes and ignored the thundering of his pulse. Made himself focus on Dawson’s and Downs’ voices.
“Don’t even tell me, Lee. Seriously. Just get him out of here.”
“What?” Jeremy stepped closer to his teammates.
Both agents looked at him. The tall, blond witness hovered, worry written all over his face. Jeremy averted his gaze. He didn’t want to look at the man. Having to tell him to call the police had been bad enough.
If he and his family were to survive Caselli, Jeremy still had to kill Nate Crane.
Downs gave him a long look. “We have a leak.” His voice was low, deadly serious.
Jeremy’s stomach twisted into knots. He cleared his throat. “One of us? No way.”
“Nothing else makes sense,” Dawson said. “Radio and cell silence until we find out who the bastard is and make them pay.”
“I agree. I’ll call Liv. Not even she gets to know where you take Crane. Stewart, call your partner,” Downs ordered.
Jeremy nodded and backed into the kitchen. He dialled Evan’s cell phone. Felt like one hundred sets of eyes were burning him. Right to voicemail. But that’s what happened when a device was smashed in the sewer. He swallowed hard and called two more times before making eye contact with Downs. “I got nothing.”
“Shit,” Downs and Dawson said at the same time.
FBI crime scene techs came into the apartment along with two paramedics with a gurney and a woman from the Medical Examiner’s Office of the local county.
“Son of a bitch!” Smythe trotted over to Downs and Dawson at the same time Jeremy joined them.
“What is it?” Downs demanded.
“Kirk and McCall headed over to the other apartment when Barnes heard Stewart was here. Roberts missed morning check-in, too. Miranda Parker is dead. Roberts was shot twice. He’s in critical.”
“Fuck,” Dawson shouted, making a fist.
A flush rolled over his body as four sets of eyes landed on Jeremy.
Evan wasn’t dead.
Chapter Eleven
“You all right?” Lee barked, slamming the driver’s door to Nate’s rented Honda shut. They didn’t have another transportation option, as much as it burned. Now she didn’t doubt that they’d been followed yesterday.
Or was it the rat?
No matter, she needed to get Nate to safety. Pray they wouldn’t be followed again.
Going cell and radio silence twisted her stomach, but it was necessary. She’d do what she had to do to keep him safe. Prevent another attack. Even though it left her on her own for a little bit.
“I’m good. Promise.” His voice was low and calm, unlike hers. “You, however, I’m worried about.”
Lee’s heart tripped and she tried to smile as he snapped his seatbelt into place. “Sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m so fucking sorry about all this.” She shoved the key into the ignition and cranked the engine on.
I could’ve lost him today.
He could have been shot. Hurt. Killed. If Stewart hadn’t shown up—
“Hey.”
She blew out a breath and put the car in reverse, ignoring Nate.
They needed to go.
Now.
“Lee. Stop the ca
r and look at me.” The command in his voice had her pausing without thought.
Hand on the gear shifter, she met his eyes. Words dissolved.
Nate cupped her face and kissed her hard. It was over before she could sink into him.
Her stomach somersaulted.
“It’s going to be okay.”
How could he be so sure? So trusting after a shootout?
No. The question is—why the hell are you so rattled?
Lee nodded, because she didn’t know how else to answer. “You cancel your house rental?”
Nate smiled, slow and sexy, and her body heated. “No, ma’am. Didn’t have time. I told my buddy I’d handle it. I have a rapport with the owner, and Nick wanted to see if I could get his deposit back.”
“Good. You know the address?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Lee grinned. The timing was horribly off, but the Texas twang when he said ma’am made her heart gallop. Made her want him. She didn’t even chide herself this time.
“So I guess calling my brother is out, huh?”
“For now.”
“What about a prepaid cell? Untraceable and all that.”
“We could go that route. Not a bad idea. I can keep in contact with Downs that way, too.”
They stopped at the first Wal-Mart off the freeway and were in and out of the store with their new phone in about ten minutes. Nine minutes too long, as far as Lee was concerned. If she’d had her way, she would’ve made Nate stay hidden in the car, but she hadn’t wanted to leave him alone, either.
After bickering about who would drive—again—they made it back on the highway headed towards upstate New York.
“Still stubborn,” Nate muttered, but his tone was amused.
Lee harrumphed, and tightened her hold on the steering wheel. “Stubborn will keep you alive.”
“You drive me crazy.”
“Feeling is mutual.”
“Feeling? You have those?” One corner of his mouth lifted.
She glared. “Irritation. Annoyance. Those are feelings. I think both are commonly associated with how you make me feel.”
“Hmmm…about the same thing. Limits your emotional range, if you ask me.”
“Nate,” Lee growled.
He laughed. “Geesh, I’m teasing you! Relax, angel.”
Lee’s heart fluttered a little. Angel? Not even close, but for him to… Mixed emotions rolled over her and she gripped the wheel even tighter. Until her knuckles whitened.
“Lee?” The concern in Nate’s voice made her glance at him.
“What?”
“You okay?”
“Yes, will you quit asking me that?”
His hazel eyes widened, and she tore hers away, gluing them to the road and ordering herself not to think of Russ. He’d been the only man to ever call her anything other than her name, but he’d refused to call her Lee. Said it was a man’s name, and he’d certainly not married a man.
Most often, he called her his chilosa, or hot, sassy one. He didn’t have a drop of Hispanic blood in his veins, but the man had spoken Spanish as well as Lee.
After Russ, she’d never let a man call her anything but her name. Honey, baby, sweetie. She’d shut it all down.
Why’s Nate different?
Lee wanted to be his angel. Dammit.
“Sorry I snapped,” she whispered.
“It’s all right. We’ve both had a crappy few days. Understandable that tensions are high.”
She didn’t answer because she didn’t know what to say.
The rest of the ride was mostly silent, but Lee could feel Nate’s eyes on her. She screamed at herself to remain still in the driver’s seat. Not let him know he was affecting her comfort level.
“You can turn into the development on Hatcher. It’s coming up soon. It’s a back way in, easier than going to the front entrance.” His deep voice sliced through the quiet.
Lee jumped.
A smile played at his lips.
“Don’t you dare ask me if I’m okay.”
“Well, I’ve never seen you so…nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.” She cringed at the sharpness of her tone.
“Okay…jumpy?”
She frowned. Yeah, that’s a good word. Unfortunately. Lee cleared her throat for the hundredth time of the day. “So you know this place?”
“Yeah. Either me or one of my friends rent the house every year. This year Nick, my friend from Alabama, grabbed it, but it’s not a problem if we use it. Like I said, I didn’t get a chance to make that call for him. Even though we all know the owner well now, he’s most familiar with me.” Nate’s gaze searched her face, but at least he’d let her subject change slide.
How can someone’s eyes interrogate?
Lee swallowed and sat higher in the driver seat. Damn the man for making her feel odd in her own skin. “Frat brother reunion?” She forced words out of her mouth, striving for normal.
Nate laughed. “Something like that.” He sighed. “Angelo was after me for years to come work for him. Offered me partner at his firm so many times I’ve lost count.”
“Can you even do that?”
“I love being a prosecutor, putting the bad guys away, even if there’s more money in defence. But yeah, actually, I’m licensed to practise law in New York state.”
“Really?” She hadn’t known that.
What else don’t you know about him?
Do you know him at all?
“Yup. New York and Texas. When we graduated, me and all my buddies ran to take the New York bar exam. And whaddya know? I passed. Kept it valid all these years. I dunno why.”
Lee mulled over his words, making a right turn on the road he’d indicated. Visions of Nate in a New York courtroom flashed into her head. Then in her apartment, at her tiny table sharing a meal with her. In her bed. Wrapped up in her.
“Turn on Victoria, and it’s the third house on the left.”
She jolted forward and her hand almost slipped off the steering wheel. “Shit,” Lee muttered.
Idiot. You’re an idiot with a wild imagination.
“Something wrong?”
“Nope.”
His expression shouted that he didn’t believe her. But she ordered herself not to look at him. Studied each road sign, willing Victoria to appear and chanted third house on the left.
If she didn’t get out of her own head, Lee was going to scream. Needed to get away from Nate for her own sanity. Now she was even more stuck with him. Alone with him.
Burner phone or not, they needed to keep their outside world contact limited. All they had was each other.
Damn, it was going to be a long day.
* * * *
Nate sighed and shook his head. No matter what he said, he pissed her off or made her shy away from him.
Skittish. Rattled. Unlike the Lee he knew.
Could the shooting really be the only cause?
As soon as they’d entered the house, she’d ordered him to stay in the living room so she could survey, check the perimeter and familiarise herself with the place. So she could defend them if she had to. But she wouldn’t look him in the eye.
After she’d returned to his side, she’d added the minute card to their prepaid cell and glued it to her ear, pacing the room and keeping her back to him.
So much for a truce.
Nate felt every inch of the distance between them. Hated it.
He wanted to pull her into his arms. Calm her. Make her talk to him. Find out the real reason why she was so jittery. Remind her he was there for her, too. They were in this together, they needed to communicate.
Besides, they both could benefit from a mental debrief of what they’d been through that morning.
“Downs has our number now, but he said to keep contact sporadic and to the point. I agree. So, when you call Pete, keep it short.” Lee handed him the phone.
He set it on the end table in the big living room. “I’ll call him later.”
> “All right. We should get settled. Pick rooms and make a plan. We need a plan.” Her words were rushed, dark eyes wide.
“A plan? For what?”
“Safety.”
“Lee, you got me to safety. This—” Nate gestured to the living room, then towards the whole house—“is safe. Literally no one but you and I know where we are. It’ll be okay.”
“We can’t take anything for granted.”
“I agree, but—”
She turned away before he could finish, crossing the vast room. Headed towards the stairwell leading to the bedrooms. “So you know the layout pretty well.”
He followed. Wasn’t about to let her ditch him. “Yes, one bedroom down here, the rest upstairs. Five in all. You know where the kitchen, dining room and everything else all is from your walk through, right?”
“Yeah. This place is big.” She nodded curtly. “Okay, good.”
“Lee.”
“What?”
“Lee.”
She finally paused, glancing over her shoulder. “What?” Brow drawn tight, her expression screamed annoyance.
“Slow down. Take a breather.”
“Are you telling me what to do again?”
Nate laughed. “I thought we’d called a truce?”
Without an answer, she whirled away from him with a glare, but he grabbed her wrist and snatched her tight to his chest.
He couldn’t help it. The need to touch her won out over everything else. He needed to make her talk to him, tell him what she was thinking. Help them both process the shooting.
Nate burned to kiss her, but she fought him, and they tumbled down against the stairs. He cushioned their fall by wrapping his arms around her. She landed beneath him—just where he wanted her. “Damn, I missed you.”
He pinned her wrists against the side of the step. However, Lee didn’t fight him as he moved closer, inhaling deeply and pressing a kiss to her neck.
She scowled up at him. “Get off me.” Her clean scent tickled his nose. The top two buttons of her shirt were open—the barest hint of her perfect breasts made him want her more.
His ploy at breakfast, the plan to play into her denial of wanting him and back off for a bit dissolved. He’d hoped it would draw her out to rise to his challenge.