Dangerous Witness

by Katie Reus

  Savage nodded. “Yeah, but we wanted to take her to the doctor.”

  For a few minutes they talked casually before Nova left, shutting the door behind her.

  They had an informal atmosphere here mainly because the only people who worked here were the cofounders—and now Nova.

  “What the hell was that?” Savage asked mildly once they were alone.

  “What?”

  “You seriously want to give her grief or tell her she’s not qualified to go on a fake school interview?” Again with the mild tone. “All she’d be doing would be pretending to be a parent looking for a school for her kid. She would go on a tour with you or Leighton. That’s it.”

  Gage didn’t feel like explaining himself to anyone. Not where she was concerned. Because he knew his feelings were irrational. “I just think it’s better if we have a dividing line with her duties. We can’t be pulling Nova into missions.”

  “I didn’t realize an interview was a mission.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, not sure that I do. It’s not like she’s some civilian off the street. She used to be CIA and I know she takes Krav Maga religiously. Not that I think the high school principal or one of the teachers is going to attack her and her fake husband.” Savage snorted at the very idea.

  Gage still didn’t like it. Instead of responding, he said, “Have you talked to Leighton yet?”

  “No. He said he should hear back from his Fed friend today. I foresee a meeting tonight or tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to be the one to tell Skye or Colt that we’re bringing in the Feds.”

  Savage shrugged. “It makes sense to do it this way. They’ll see that.”

  Yeah, true enough. But Gage had seen Skye lose her temper before—because someone stole her food from the company refrigerator—and it wasn’t pretty. The woman carried around C4 in her purse and called it “being prepared.” And he was just distracting himself with thoughts of anything other than Nova and the way he’d talked to her. He’d been kind of a jackass. Maybe he should apologize. But he still didn’t want to bring her in for this or anything mission related.

  He also didn’t want to further examine why either. Colt and Skye worked together, and Colt had once told him that he trusted Skye to take care of herself. He worried about her, yes, but Colt said that his wife was the most capable person he’d ever met. Gage apparently wasn’t as evolved as that because he didn’t want Nova in any danger. Ever.

  Chapter 12

  —If you have the moral compass of a pumpkin, own it. Don’t make excuses.—

  Brooks tried to contain his temper as he strode back to his truck. He’d left his coffee meeting with Markov, fully planning to come back and talk to Darcy—and ream her out about not telling him about her accident this morning—only to find out that she, Savage and Olivia had left. Coffee had gone on way too long, but he’d wanted to give Leighton time enough to plant a listening device in Markov’s vehicle.

  Not an easy task when he had his own personal security. Markov’s guys were good, blended in well, but Brooks’s training had helped him spot them. Leighton had been able to distract and avoid them.

  He turned on his Bluetooth as he pulled out of the parking lot and called Savage. “Why the hell did you guys leave?” he snarled the second Savage answered his phone.

  “Ah, this is Olivia.”

  He winced. “Oh…sorry. Where’s Savage?” He’d assumed it was his best friend when the phone picked up.

  “At the office… We recently left the pediatrician’s and we somehow switched phones. I’m going to drop it off to him.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Valencia has an earache, and because of her cochlear implants I never ignore when she has ear issues.”

  Brooks felt like a jerk. “Sorry for snapping at you. Are you sure she’s okay?” he asked as he took a left turn. Traffic was light today and he should be at Darcy’s shop in less than ten minutes.

  “Yes, I promise. I just like to be careful with her.”

  “Tell Savage not to worry about calling me back.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” Brooks had been calling to ask why they left without waiting for him and now he had his answer.

  By the time he made it to Darcy’s shop he’d worked himself up. He knew he needed to calm down, but when Markov had said something about Darcy being in an accident it had blindsided him. The thought of anything happening to her carved him up inside. He knew he couldn’t control everything or look out for her all the time. Even the thought was pure insanity. But he still worried about her.

  There was no parking in front of her shop so he parked a couple blocks over. Before Darcy, he’d always been the calm one. Hell, he still was. He wouldn’t have been able to be a sniper in the Marine Corps if he’d had any issues. But Darcy brought out all of his protective and possessive instincts. There was no way around it.

  The little bell jingled overhead as he stepped inside. Two women were at one of the jewelry displays, looking at necklaces and tiaras. Seriously, tiaras? Some people. One of the women, a petite blonde, looked over at him and gave him an inviting smile. He really hoped she wasn’t the one getting married.

  Ignoring her smile, he scanned the rest of the place. Darcy had done a lot in here and it was impressive. Nice furniture, aesthetically pleasing, this was the type of place that made people feel comfortable but also screamed quality. The black and white photos on the walls of weddings were new. They really added a lot to the place.

  As he made his way to the back of the shop, Darcy stepped out of the dressing room area and frowned when she saw him. But then she smiled what he thought of as her “work smile.” Pleasant and perfectly polite, but it was missing the warmth he’d once received from her. And he would do anything to get it back.

  There was an older Hispanic woman with her, wearing a shimmery gold dress that still had the tags on it. Clearly Darcy was helping her, and her shop was busy enough that he probably should have called first.

  Damn it, he needed to start thinking when it came to her. As he inwardly berated himself, Darcy murmured something to the woman next to her and crossed over to him.

  She was wearing knee-high boots over black tights and a red sweater dress that hugged all her curves—he wanted to peel it from her body inch by inch. “Is everything okay?” she murmured as she reached him.

  “Yes. But I should be asking you that. I heard you were in an accident today.” And he was seriously annoyed that she hadn’t told him this morning. Not that she owed him anything but still, he wished she’d told him. Unable to stop himself, he took one of her hands in his. To his surprise, she didn’t pull away.

  “It wasn’t an accident, not really,” she whispered.

  “Darcy?” The Hispanic woman she’d been talking to approached them, a tentative smile on her face. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but you were in an accident today? Are you okay?”

  Darcy’s cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink. “I’m totally fine. Mrs. Gomez, this is Brooks, my—”

  “Boyfriend.”

  “Oh.” The woman’s eyes lit up and she assessed Brooks with a critical eye.

  “Hopefully soon she’ll be my fiancée and make an honest man out of me,” he continued, because he was seriously unable to help himself. Darcy was going to kill him later, but it would totally be worth it. They’d already told Markov that they were together, so this was just selling it to everyone else. At least that’s what he told himself when he heard Darcy’s little gasp of surprise.

  “Oh my gosh, isn’t that just the sweetest thing,” the woman gushed.

  “Yes, he is wonderful.” There was a hint of acid in Darcy’s voice as she said, “Mrs. Gomez, if you can give me just one second, I need to talk to Brooks in my office and I will be right out. But that dress is perfect for you. You’re going to be a beautiful mother of the bride.”

  “Take your time, I’m going to be looking a
t shoes.”

  Once they were in her tiny office, Darcy turned to him, hands on her hips. “What the heck was that?”

  “First tell me about this accident.”

  She paused and looked away for a moment. Then she sighed and leaned against her small desk. “My brakes stopped working. The police took a report and my mechanic is going to let them know what he finds. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Somehow he kept his tone even and his voice low. “Your brakes stopped working? That’s not normal.”

  “I know,” she finally muttered. “But I have no idea how this would tie into anything else—and the emergency brake worked just fine. Thankfully. If Semyon wanted to kill me, he’d put a bullet in my head. Right? I mean, he wouldn’t risk that this brake thing didn’t even work. Or if he was going to try to kill me via my car, the emergency brake would have failed too. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it until I heard back from my mechanic. My car is freaking ancient and the mechanic said something about natural erosion. I thought maybe, I don’t know, that had something to do with it. I get it worked on every month, it feels like.”

  “I can’t believe you’re still driving that thing.” Her little car was ancient. He’d actually offered to buy her a new one when they’d been together but she’d simply scoffed at him. Something he should have remembered when he’d accused her of taking a couple million dollars. If she wouldn’t take a damn car, she certainly wouldn’t have taken any money.

  She simply pursed her lips together when he brought up the topic of her car. “So what was that craziness out there about being my fiancé?”

  “We’ve already told Markov I was your boyfriend. Might as well let everyone else know. It needs to sound legit.”

  She nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “You’re selling dresses and shoes and stuff too?” he asked, curious since she was a wedding planner. He didn’t think they did that. And he wanted to smooth things over—by not focusing on how he was telling everyone they were together.

  “What… Oh, no. Well, I mean, yes. The dresses, shoes and stuff are from Faith’s shop. Since I meet with clients here it only made sense for me to showcase her stuff. And anything I sell for her, I get a commission.” She smiled, very pleased with herself. It was a smart move too. “So Zac and Olivia told me that you’d be filling me in on everything tonight?” she asked, her smile fading.

  “I am. And you’ll be staying at my place, considering your car might have been tampered with.”

  She pushed up from her desk and her hands went straight to her hips again. “That’s weird, it didn’t sound like you asked me a question. No, it sounded more like you just gave me an order.”

  He grinned at her. “I’ve missed your sass. And…I would like it if you would stay at my place tonight.”

  She snorted. “No. I have a lot of work to do.” Before he could argue, she held up a hand. “But I have a guest room. You can stay with me tonight. I don’t have a death wish. If someone wants me dead—then I won’t balk at you staying with me. And I’m not saying anyone does! My car is old, Brooks. Anyway, all my work is at my house, and it will be a lot easier to simply get it done there. Plus I have to get up really early tomorrow.”

  “Fine. I’ll also be chauffeuring you around.” That wasn’t up for discussion. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight. Her sister’s wedding was Saturday and today was Wednesday, so he understood that she was busy. But there were some things he wouldn’t bend on.

  “I want to argue with you, but you’ve got that annoying determined look in your eyes.”

  “Glad that’s covered. Have you eaten anything today?”

  She seemed jolted by the change in topic. “Ah, I ate a little at the tasting. By the way, have you talked to Zac or Olivia? Is their little girl okay?”

  “It sounds like she will be but I’ll let you know.”

  “I should be done here in about two hours. You’re really going to tell me everything?”

  “I’ll tell you everything we know up to this point. Fair warning, the Feds are definitely going to be involved. One of our guys is talking to someone now. And that means you’re probably going to have to talk to them.” Brooks had no idea how involved the FBI would be but if they tried to railroad Darcy, he would push back. Hard. “No matter what happens, I’ve got your back.”

  “Thank you.” She cleared her throat once. “For everything you’re doing. Maybe I should have gone straight to the FBI in the first place. But I was scared and…just, I’m really appreciative of everything you and your friends are doing.”

  “You never have to thank me for anything. But you’re welcome.” Reaching out, he cupped her cheek gently and stroked his thumb over her soft skin. Touching her was stupid, but she wasn’t pulling away and he couldn’t stop himself.

  For a moment, her eyes drifted shut and she leaned into his touch.

  Just like that, his body reacted. Hell. What he wouldn’t give to be able to pull her into his arms, to hoist her up onto her desk and—

  Her eyes snapped open and she stepped back suddenly. Her cheeks flushed and she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I need to get back out there. Are you going to stick around, or just meet me here in two hours?”

  “I won’t bother you here at work, but I won’t be far.” No way in hell. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Mrs. Gomez he hoped that Darcy would soon be his fiancée. He wanted her as his wife.

  His love for her had never died. When he thought she’d betrayed him, he’d hated her, but he’d also never been able to get her out of his head. And knowing that she’d never done a damn thing wrong, that she hadn’t taken that money, well, he couldn’t deny that he still loved her. He wanted her forever. Too bad for him, the feeling wasn’t mutual. Yet.

  Because he was still determined to win back the woman who’d stolen his heart.

  * * *

  Semyon unrolled the physical blueprint of the building they would be bombing on Saturday morning. He felt a twinge of conscience about what he was going to do, but not enough to stop. This was the only way to bring Kuznetsov down.

  And he’d been so careful in his planning. Only a select few knew about it. His inner circle—and even if he didn’t completely trust Oleg, he trusted the man at least to keep this quiet. Because if Oleg talked, he would incriminate himself. This had been in the works long enough that if Oleg told Kuznetsov, the other man would know Oleg was part of it.

  When Semyon heard the door to the office open, he turned. Oleg stepped inside and nodded once at him. “Kuznetsov is in town. He just checked into his hotel. One of the staff informed me.”

  “Good.” So far everything was going according to plan. Later tonight, Semyon would go pay respects to Kuznetsov, and while he was in the man’s hotel room, he would swipe bomb residue everywhere he could. Because after Saturday, he would point the Feds in Kuznetsov’s direction. Anonymously, of course. The bomb residue wouldn’t be meant to incriminate Kuznetsov, but someone else in the man’s organization—because Semyon planned on killing Kuznetsov. He just couldn’t take credit for it or have anyone suspect him. That would defeat the purpose of everything. “How is everything looking?” he asked.

  “Everything is still a go for Friday night. I’ll get everything set up at the school and we’ll be good to go Saturday.”

  “Good,” he said again, looking back at the blueprints. He’d gone old-school for this job. He had nothing saved to his computer, nothing online to link him to any aspect of this job—nothing in this house or his office. Except the blueprints, of course, but he would dispose of those soon. Stanton might have something at his house, but that was on him. And Semyon planned to take care of that problem soon enough.

  He’d used the detective in the past, paying him to lose evidence or let Semyon know when prisoners would be transported. And he’d used him to get access to the schools and their blueprints. He hadn’t wanted to get his hands dirty—or show up on any potential CCTVs do
wn at the courthouse—and he definitely hadn’t wanted to show up on any security cameras near or at the target sites. Stanton thought they would be using him to plant evidence, but Semyon could do that himself.

  “Do we need Stanton anymore?” he asked.

  Oleg paused, thinking. Then he shook his head. “I’ll be handling everything myself Friday night. And you’ll be dealing with planting evidence. No…we can tie up that end now if you’d like?”

  Semyon mentally went over everything they had left to do. Yes, it was time to cut Stanton loose. “Can you do it tonight?”

  “Yes. How should I do it?”

  Making it appear accidental would be difficult and not worth the risk. “Is he working today?”

  “Yes. He should get off…” Oleg glanced at his watch. “In an hour, give or take.”

  Semyon had learned that detectives put in regular enough hours unless they were working a big case. It would be too difficult to get Stanton pulled out for a regular call, so that was out. He was a detective, not an officer who rode the streets. He was only called out for investigations—and usually with a partner. It seemed luck was on his side tonight.

  “Follow him when he leaves the station, then. Does he still stop at that Quick Stop for lottery tickets?”

  Oleg snorted in derision.

  Semyon agreed. He didn’t understand why anyone bothered with those things. “Good. Kill him and whoever else is at the Quick Stop. Make it look like a robbery.” He knew Oleg would take and dispose of the security feeds if there were any so he didn’t bother telling him to. “Once you’re done, head to his house.” He wanted to tell Oleg to burn it to the ground, but that would be too suspicious. “Do a sweep of his place. Take anything that might link back to us.” There shouldn’t be anything there, but just in case.

  Oleg nodded once, but instead of leaving immediately as Semyon had expected, he continued. “I know you said that you put someone on the wedding planner, but I wanted to let you know I saw her with some man today. He looked like trouble.”