He frowned as he noticed the gray sedan two cars behind him. It had tailed them for the last four turns he’d taken. It could be a coincidence.
Or not.
He didn’t signal for the next turn, took the corner abruptly. The sedan did the same. Sal kept an eye on the rearview mirror. He hadn’t been mistaken. Someone was tailing them.
“We’re being followed.”
Automatically, Olivia started to look over her shoulder. “Who? How long?”
“Don’t look.” She stopped midturn. “Gray sedan. For the last few blocks.”
“Who is it?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out.” Sal made a sharp turn, cutting across three lanes of traffic.
Angry shouts sounded and horns blared, but he ignored them. He wanted to get behind the car following them.
Another turn and he was now two blocks to the east. He took a hard right, and, within a few minutes, was once more on the street where he’d been, now three car lengths behind the sedan. Sal maintained that distance until he could safely move ahead of the car. With a quick twist of the wheel, he maneuvered the truck at a perpendicular angle to the other vehicle.
Glock raised, he tore out of the truck. “Stay here,” he yelled but wasn’t surprised to find Olivia close behind him. He pulled open the door to the sedan. “Hands where I can see them.”
“I’m going to use my left hand to reach inside my jacket and pull out my creds,” the driver said.
Sal already knew what the man was going to show him. Nondescript car. Wraparound sunglasses. Dark suit. Wrinkled white shirt. Narrow tie. It all added up. “Feds.”
The single syllable held both resignation and relief. He and Olivia weren’t being chased by deranged killers. That was the good news. They were being followed by federal agents. That was the not-so-good news.
“Got it in one.” The driver held up his federal ID. “Homeland.”
The Department of Homeland Security. The agency trumped all the others in terms of power and authority and generally being a pain-in-the-neck when it came to dealing with other agencies.
Sal had butted heads with the DHS when his unit had been assigned to provide security for a member of the state department in Afghanistan. Though the DHS normally concerned itself with stateside matters, they had a special interest in the traveling dignitary and wanted things done their way. With Homeland, it was their way or the highway.
“Why were you following us?” Olivia demanded.
“That’s federal business,” the man in the passenger seat said.
“I figure it’s our business since you’ve been tailing us.” Sal lowered his weapon.
“What do you know about Calvin Chantry?” the driver asked.
“Typical,” Sal said. “Never give a direct answer when you can ask a question instead.” Realizing that they were blocking traffic, he gestured to a quiet side street. “Let’s take this out of the middle of the road.”
Sal and Olivia went back to his truck. He ignored the angry shouts from other drivers and pulled the truck around the corner.
The DHS agents followed and parked behind Sal. The driver climbed out of the car. “Look, we’re both on the same side.”
Sal hiked a brow. “Is that so?” He didn’t bother hiding his skepticism. In his experience, the Feds played by their own rules, not caring if they worked well with others or stepped on their toes.
“Yeah. Chantry disappeared and now he’s dead. He had information on a case we’re investigating.”
Not letting any of what he was thinking show on his face, Sal digested that. Whatever Chantry had been mixed up in, it was bigger than a class action suit against a drug company. He caught Olivia’s smothered exclamation and knew she’d reached the same conclusion.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the DHS didn’t care about a lawsuit, no matter how heinous the charges. No, there was something bigger at stake. Much bigger. Like terrorism.
“Let’s start again. What’s the real reason you were following us? It can’t be Chantry because, like you said, he’s dead. There’s got to be something more.”
The driver didn’t so much as blink. “That’s classified. And don’t bother asking again. You’ll only get the same answer.”
Sal hadn’t expected anything different, but the vehemence behind the man’s words told him a lot.
Passenger-side guy put in his two cents’ worth. “If you know something, you’re under obligation to tell us.”
“If we knew something,” Sal repeated parrot-like. “Which we don’t.” The three words held not a hint of apology.
“You want to play hardball?” the man said. “We can oblige. Haul you in. Sweat you a while. See what shakes loose.”
“Do you really want a lawsuit against the federal government?” Olivia asked, sounding every bit the uptown lawyer she was. “We can oblige, as well.” Though her words were calm enough, Sal heard the fury behind them. When it came to the government trampling on individual rights, Olivia was a firecracker. He was glad they were on the same side.
Driver-man put his creds back in his pocket, straightened his jacket. “Looks like we have us an old-fashioned standoff.”
Sal widened his stance, crossed his arms over his chest. “Looks like.”
“You don’t want to make an enemy of the DHS. We have long memories.”
“No?”
“No. Look, we can help each other out. You hear anything, you let us know.”
“And you’ll do the same?” Sal let his disbelief show.
“You were Army. Delta, right? You know how things work.” The driver climbed back in the car. “We’ll be close.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
The agents drove off.
“Do all government agents attend the same charm school?” Olivia asked.
“Pretty much.”
“Too bad the charm part didn’t stick.”
He grinned, then sobered quickly. “But they got their message across.”
“What was it?”
“That we’d better watch our step. Homeland plays for keeps. They have unlimited power and aren’t afraid to use it.”
She lifted her chin. “They don’t scare me.”
“It’s not them we should be scared of.”
“Who?”
“Whoever’s making Homeland nervous.” Sal had met his share of Homeland agents, worked with a few. They were unshakable. Probably because they had everyone else in the intelligence community backing their play. They were the elephant in the room that no one wanted to mess with.
If the DHS was involved, it meant national security was at stake. And that meant Sal and Olivia had landed themselves in a whole mess of trouble.
THIRTEEN
When Sal had confronted the DHS agents, Olivia had watched as the soldier had taken over. The face, the stance, the posture were unmistakable. Each spoke of a man preparing to do battle. Understanding the soldier meant understanding the man, and she realized that she very much wanted to do that. Understand the man.
She knew he was worried. He didn’t have to say it. She heard it in his voice, saw it in the hard glaze that turned his dark eyes even darker.
Once in her office, he shut the door, locked it. “We need to talk.” He gestured to the chairs.
Out of habit, she sat behind her desk. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“What makes you think I’m holding something back?”
“Your eyes. Whenever you think you need to keep something from me, your eyes go all empty. Like you’re afraid they’ll give your secret away so you make them go blank.”
“You ought to be in intelligence. The boys there could use you.”
“Thanks. But you’re not answering my qu
estion.”
“No. I’m not.”
“If Homeland’s involved, it means this is a lot more than just a kidnapping and a murder. Homeland doesn’t bother itself with garden variety stuff. They have a bigger agenda.”
In the years following 9/11, the DHS had grown exponentially in scope and size. Olivia had heard more than one lawyer bemoan the erosion of civil rights as the federal government had run roughshod over individual rights with the Patriot Act and other legislation.
The complaints weren’t unjustified and, in some cases, had uncovered unconscionable abuses. At the same time, she supported the nation’s commitment to protect its citizens.
Neither side appeared eager to compromise. Until and unless they did, things were destined to get worse rather than better. She pushed the ongoing debate from her mind. Right now, she and Sal had to find a way to keep investigating without stepping on Homeland’s toes.
Was it only four days ago that she’d received the call about Calvin? It seemed that a lifetime had passed. She’d been riding an emotional roller coaster ever since. Sal’s arrival had only added to the turmoil. There was no doubt that his presence was comforting, but it carried its own brand of tension.
Sal folded his arms across his chest, looking every bit the formidable soldier he had been. “We’ve stumbled into a terrorism plot.”
“Calvin wouldn’t—”
Sal held up a hand. “I didn’t say he was part of it, only that the DHS thinks he was. We need to step back.”
“What?”
“You heard me. It’s gotten too dangerous. We’re talking terrorists here. The kind of people who think nothing of killing someone simply because he believes differently than they do.”
“Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You want us to back off because things have turned dangerous?” That didn’t sound right. Not from Sal, who had signed up for multiple tours in the Middle East because he didn’t like bullies.
“Not me,” he said in an even tone. “You. You’re bowing out of the investigation. As of now.”
Her shoulders went rigid with outrage. “No way.”
Sal took her hands, led her to the sofa, gestured that she should sit.
She did but not without glaring in his direction first.
“This is no longer a simple kidnapping case gone wrong. This is big-time stuff. Why else do you think Homeland was following us?”
“You think I’d cut and run because things have gotten a little hairy? You don’t know me. You don’t know me at all.” Her voice rose with every word.
“I do know you. And that’s why I’m asking that you leave this to the authorities.”
“And you?”
“And me.”
“So you want me out of the way for my own good? Is that it?” Irritation kicked in, as it always did, when someone implied that she wasn’t capable of taking care of herself.
“In a manner of speaking.”
She stood, tried to speak, found that her breath was caught in her throat, and tried again. “This is personal for me. It’s as personal as it gets. Calvin wasn’t just my boss. He was my friend. Someone killed him and may want to kill me, and I need to find out who it is.”
Sal stood as well, faced her down. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t fun and games anymore. This is the real deal. Your boss was killed and he may not be the last.” That held an ominous note which she chose to ignore.
“It was never fun and games for me.”
“I didn’t mean—” Sal scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t want to see you hurt.” The words were said gently, but she heard the worry behind them.
“If it were your friend who was murdered, would you quit looking for the people responsible?”
He waited so long to speak that she thought he wasn’t going to answer at all. “No.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being honest.” Something inside of her softened. “I can’t stop. Not now. I owe Calvin that. Tell me you understand.”
Sal nodded. “I get it. I figured you’d say that. But I had to try. If something happens to you...”
“It won’t. I have you at my side.”
His gaze bored into hers. “If we’re going to keep doing this, we’re going to set some ground rules.”
Wary, she nodded. “Like what?”
“You don’t go anywhere, and I mean anywhere, without me. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, whether or not you like it.”
She chafed at that. “Isn’t that a little extreme?” One glance at the fierce look in his eyes had her agreeing. “Okay.”
“You don’t question anyone without running it past me first.”
To alleviate the grim turn the conversation had taken, she was tempted to ask if she were allowed to take a breath without asking him first, but clearly Sal wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
“This isn’t negotiable.”
“No,” she said slowly. “I can see that it’s not.”
“Good.”
Was it? She didn’t hand over the reins of control to anyone. Ever. But she’d done just that with Sal. Why was that?
She wasn’t ready to delve into it. Not now. Maybe later, when she and Sal had found out who had murdered Calvin. Until then, whatever she felt for Sal had to be put on the back burner.
She stole a glance at his profile. Strong, uncompromising, proud. Any woman who gave her heart to him would have to accept that he was a soldier who gave his all to whatever mission he undertook.
Could he do the same with a woman he loved? She knew her feelings for Sal were growing with every day. She couldn’t help remembering how her heart had been broken when he’d left her two years ago and feared it was going to happen again.
* * *
Sal wasn’t surprised at Olivia’s refusal to step back. Her heart would always triumph over her sense of self-preservation when it came to those whom she loved.
No, he hadn’t expected Olivia to give up. It wasn’t in her nature to walk away. Just as it wasn’t in his. That made them two stubborn people.
Stubborn could get you killed. And while he was willing to risk his own life, he wasn’t willing to risk Olivia’s. He searched his mind for some way for her to participate in the investigation that wouldn’t put her in danger. Even as the thought formed, he dismissed it. Olivia would see through the ploy immediately.
Her determination to do the right thing was one of the things he admired about her. At the same time, it frustrated him to no end. He couldn’t conduct a proper investigation if he spent all of his time worrying about her.
She was an independent woman, one who didn’t give up control easily. He was asking that she do just that. Never mind that it was for her own good. Keeping her safe was his primary objective. A mission, and that’s what this was, had only one leader.
“If it makes you feel any better, you’re 2IC of this unit,” he said.
Her brow wrinkled. “2IC?”
“Second-in-command.”
To his surprise, she burst out laughing. “I’m second-in-command in a unit that consists of two people. You must have stretched to come up with that.”
He grinned, more in appreciation of her than in any real amusement. “Every unit has a 2IC. It’s required.”
“That makes it all the better.”
“Now that we’ve gotten that settled, let’s talk logistics. Our pals at Homeland said Calvin was mixed up with a terrorist cell.”
Her protest was instantaneous. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Okay. I get that. But what if he was mixed up in something and didn’t know about it?” Sal was withholding judgment on Chantry’s involvement, but he didn’t share his misgivings with Olivia. She would never
believe her friend was part of a terrorist plot.
“That could be, I guess.”
“It would explain the kidnapping. If we’re going to prove his innocence, we need to find proof.”
Sal sighed inwardly. So much for his attempt to convince Olivia to let him handle things. He was fighting on two battlefields: protecting her and adhering to his resolve to keep things professional.
Don’t get involved with the client was S&J’s number one rule. A wry smile rimmed his lips as he recalled that his buddy Jake Rabb and boss Shelley Rabb had done exactly that and were now married to those respective clients. Still, the rule was there for a reason.
Too often, emotion clouded logical thought. Sal was the first to admit that he wasn’t thinking straight when it came to Olivia. Reflecting on how he felt two years ago, he realized that his feelings for her today were far more intense. How was he supposed to protect her when his heart kept getting in the way?
The answer was to get out of his own way. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. He could either do the job or give in to his feelings. A sigh escaped. The job came first. Always.
FOURTEEN
The following morning, Olivia rose early and decided to put in some work. When Sal showed up, she was gratified to find that she’d written two motions to present to the court and drafted a brief.
He handed her a small flower-filled basket.
“Pansies? My favorite. How did you know?” Olivia traced the pattern of one delicate petal, the lavender streaked with deep gold. Pleasure swelled in her heart. At the same time, a bubble of panic fizzed in her belly. How was she going to say goodbye to Sal when the time came?
“I noticed the pillows on your sofa. Big purple pansies. So I took a guess.”
A man who brought her pansies because he’d noticed the flowers on her pillows? Everything went soft and gooey inside her, and she forgot the moment of panic.
“Thank you.”
His face reddened. “I just thought that after all that’s happened you deserved something pretty.”
Soft and gooey melted until it was as mushy as the inside of a cream puff. “Do your teammates know what a sweetheart you are?”
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