Agent M4: Riordan (9 page)

“What do we know?”

Riordan marched into Mitchell’s office with Rose. Mitchell and Tristan looked up from the table-sized computer.

“What the hell, Saint?” Mitchell glared at him. “Did you give the crowd balloon animals and lollipops before you left the street?”

Going around the table, Riordan stared down at the streaming video of his rescue. It had already hit the internet. Damn, he really had put on quite a show.

“If it was Angela sitting out there, you would’ve done the same thing.”

Mitchell had just gotten back his wife, Angela. PDA’s between the two were a common occurrence on the compound. Hard ass Mitchell Jacobs became a softie around her. He had to understand.

Narrowing his eyes, Mitchell said, “Are you saying Natalie is that important to you?”

Riordan clenched his jaw. He couldn’t say that.
Refused
to say it. Only a fool would admit that to Mitchell.

Besides, Riordan needed to know if she’d played a part in his disappearance.

“I’m saying she would’ve died if I hadn’t repelled that car. I couldn’t let that happen.”

Mitchell just stared at him without speaking. Lifting his chin, Riordan stared right back. He did not have to justify his actions. He’d done the right thing.

If nothing else, he’d discovered one surprise today –

He feared.

He’d thought the Altay guards had beaten fear out of him. After years of abuse, what did he have to fear knowing what to expect? That’s why he’d known he’d be a success at D.I.R.E. He feared nothing and no one.

Except losing Natalie.

Fear had taken over today, no two ways about it. It had taken charge of the situation and done what had to be done to put his body and mind at peace. That rescue had been for purely selfish reasons.

To save her.

How her living and breathing put him at peace when all they did was fight, went beyond his understanding. All he knew was that he needed her alive.

To live.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Saint.”

Tristan’s gaze shot to Riordan before looking at Mitchell. “He can handle it.”

“If anyone can handle it, Saint can,” Rose chimed in.

Giving them each a pointed glower, Mitchell stared down at the computer screen. “Bomb threat was called in promptly at 4:58pm. Natalie received the text at 5:02pm. Fire alarm went off at 5:04pm.” He looked up at Riordan. “John Warner appeared between the text and the fire alarm.”

Rose leaned on the table. “Can’t be a coincidence.”

Tristan nodded. “If John Warner wants her for her money, why would he do something like this?”

“To play the hero,” Riordan said.

Mitchell nodded. “I agree, Saint. I also think it fits because of the way Paul died.”

Rose glanced around the table. “How did he die?”

Mitchell’s gaze zeroed in on Riordan. “He killed himself by suicide bomb at a Harold Mills’ fundraiser.”

Surprise sifted through Riordan, leaving him dumbfounded. Now he knew why Mitchell had told him to take it easy on her. She didn’t want to repeat what had happened with Paul. Natalie blamed herself for his death and didn’t trust her own judgment.

Rose said, “Isn’t Mills running against Dan Meeks in the next election?”

Mitchell gave a brief nod. “Yes, he is.”

Which pointed all fingers to Dan Meeks and Warner.

“Hell…” Rose straightened away from the table.

“So, was Paul Warner some kind of devoted follower of Dan Meeks?” Tristan leaned an elbow on the table.

“Not to my knowledge,” Mitchell said. “He’d been seeing Natalie as a patient for several months. Knowing Dan Meeks, I’d have to assume Paul wasn’t good enough for his daughter.”

“So, why would Paul Warner do it?” Riordan said. “He had a beautiful woman, more money than he knew what to do with, and the potential to be a Senator’s son-in-law. He had everything going for him.”

“Maybe he had serious psychological issues,” Rose said.

Riordan didn’t buy it. “I don’t see Natalie getting involved with him if his condition was that serious.”

“I agree,” Mitchell said. “Natalie is too smart and intuitive.”

If John was capable of a bomb threat and setting a fire, he couldn’t be dismissed as a culprit. “Maybe John Warner set him up, thinking he’d inherit his money.”

Tristan chimed in. “Or, the Senator set him up to ruin Mills’ election chances.”

Or both
. “Do we have forensics files on the suicide?” Riordan tipped his head toward Jaydan. “Rose can take a look at them.”

Mitchell nodded. “I can get them. Downloading those files will alert Dan Meeks. I’m sure he has them under tight security.”

Riordan braced his hands on the table. “Maybe he needs to know we’re watching him.”

“I think we’ve made that clear with your identity investigation,” Mitchell said.

“Excuse me, Riordan?”

With a knock on the door, Rachel Monroe walked into Mitchell’s office. The grin that lit Jacobs’ face made Riordan smile. Damn, the man was whipped.

The return smile she gave Jacobs proved the feeling was mutual. Lucky bastard. Rachel was a beautiful woman.

Riordan turned to her as she approached, her eyes filled with apprehension. “Yeah, Rachel?”

“We’re ready to clean Natalie’s wounds. I thought you might want to be there.”

“Did she ask for me?” The idea made his heart light.

Rachel shook her head. “In order to get out all of the dirt and asphalt, we have to scrub the wounds with steel wool pads. It’s extremely painful. We’ll give her something local for pain, but it won’t alleviate all of it. It’s not a fun process.”

He started out the door, Rachel beside him. Just the thought of Natalie going through that pissed him off.

And, Mitchell chewed him out for saving her? If he’d had a way to take the fall for her, he would have done it.

“Thanks for coming to get me, Rachel.”

They rushed through the compound and down the medical wing hallway.

“Of course. I know I’d want Tristan there, if I were in her position.”

“I think you may have misinterpreted our relationship.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Hell, what am I saying? We aren’t even in a relationship. She was my doctor. I was her patient.”

Rachel gave him a knowing smile before she shoved open the hospital room door. “Whatever you say, Mr. St. James.”

Following her into the room, Riordan took one look at Natalie and wanted to repel and bend things.

His beautiful, delicate doctor lay on her side facing the wall, a strip of ugly, bleeding road rash marring her long, exposed leg. She wore a pale blue hospital gown, her copper hair falling in a tangled mess down her back.

Walking around the side of the bed, he dragged over a chair and sat to face her. She looked tired, her face pale with dark circles under her eyes. When she saw him, her eyes widened in her tear-stained face.

“Riordan. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Her pained, hazel eyes searched his gaze. “It’s going to be that bad, huh?”

She knew better than to expect sugarcoating from him. “They’ll give you a local anesthetic for the pain but yeah, it could be a little painful.”

Her rueful smile made him grin. “A little painful on whose meter – yours or mine?”

Scooting the chair closer to the bed, he took her hand in his and curled their forearms on the bed. Hers a flawless, pale flesh, his a harsh, gold and copper armband.

“Okay, Natalie,” Rachel said, “Can you feel this?”

Rachel poked her leg. Natalie shook her head.

“Good.” Rachel smiled at Riordan. “We’re going to start. We’re working from both ends and meeting in the middle to make this quick. You’ll feel us scrubbing but hopefully, it won’t be too bad.”

Riordan smiled at Natalie. “If it gets bad, feel free to break my fingers.”

“Mitchell would kill me.” She winced as Rachel and the nurse started scrubbing.

Riordan gritted his teeth. He didn’t know if it was harder to endure the pain or watch someone you-

Whoa
. That thought went way out in left field. Nowhere near what he actually felt.

Sure, man. And, your enhancements are just toys.

“Mitchell would have to go through me first.”

Her grip on his hand tightened as she squeezed her eyes shut. He had to do something to get her mind off of this until they were done. Maybe if he made the psychologist in her work, it would distract her. He’d give it a try.

“Living in a dark cave for so long, I learned to compensate for my lack of vision.”

Her eyes popped open to study him. Good. He’d turned her focus.

“When the guard approached, I knew if he was bringing food, water or weapons by how heavy his footsteps sounded. When I heard the whip bouncing against his thigh, I shut down.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rachel’s gaze shoot to him before going back to work.

“What do you mean, shut down?” Natalie’s voice sounded just above a whisper.

“I quit thinking or feeling. It was almost like I put myself into a trance. They would bring a light so they could see where to hit me. I would never open my eyes – I’d just stare at the darkness behind my eyelids because that’s what I knew. I would relax my muscles and shut off my brain.”

Her brows lowered into a pained frown. “And that worked?”

He gave a half laugh. “Not at first. I used to wonder why they beat me, why I had been put in isolation. Of course, they never answered when I asked. So, I had a frank conversation with God.”

Her brows shot up her forehead.

“At first, He didn’t respond. I couldn’t blame Him. I hadn’t talked to Him since my mother died.”

Natalie jumped where she lay and bit her bottom lip. He squeezed her hand again and pulled closer.

“Then, one day, the answer hit me. I had to shut it out like I had shut Him out. I had to completely let go like I had completely let go of my conscience while I worked in the business.” He couldn’t stop the sarcastic chuckle that escaped. “He turned my own failings into a tool.”

She squeezed his hand. “Riordan-“

“It took a long time to train myself. But, what else did I have to do? It was make myself stronger, or let myself die.”

Tears trailed down her cheeks to blot the bed sheet. Damn, he hadn’t meant for her to cry.

“Most people would have let go,” she said.

He gave her an arrogant grin to lighten the mood. “I’m not most people.”

Natalie raised his hand to her lips. “No, you’re not.”

When she looked at him like that, he felt invincible.

“So, I figure I owe Him. No one could know my situation and not think divine intervention had something to do with Naylor dumping me here.”

Rachel and the nurse both smiled at him.

“Having my brother, the player, fall in love with Cass was definitely divine intervention.” Rachel smiled.

“Aidan is your brother, Rachel?” Natalie’s voice sounded groggy.

Rachel frowned in concentration as she continued to scrub. “He is. Sounds like Riordan owes him, don’t you think?”

He had no problem thanking Monroe. It was Monroe that wouldn’t let him within ten feet of his ex-girlfriend.

Natalie’s solemn gaze studied his face. “Unless he isn’t through dealing with Cassandra’s loss.”

Riordan scowled at her. How could she say that after their heated exchanges? To be honest, he never thought about Cass. Meeks, on the other hand, wouldn’t get out of his head.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Really, Meeks? You’re going full-on doctor on me while
you’re
the one lying in the hospital bed?”

Rachel and the nurse laughed.

“At least I’m using my talents. You, mister superhero, haven’t done one thing with yours.”

“Oh, really?” He cocked an eyebrow. “What would you have me do?”

“Use those magnetic hands to take those blasted steel pads out of their hands.” She winced again.

Riordan leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Almost done, baby.”

Natalie shut her eyes. She really did need to sleep. Though it boggled his mind how she
could
sleep while they scrubbed her like a dirty iron skillet.

He’d thought she’d finally drifted off until she spoke in a low, whisper-soft voice. “Why did they keep you in isolation, Riordan? To punish you? Or, to keep you from being found?”

“So, are you going to ask me?” Rose looked over at Riordan from the driver’s seat of the D.I.R.E. SUV. “Or, are you just going to wonder the rest of your life?”

Riordan stared at the identity thief’s house across the street. It sat in an upscale, Coronado neighborhood, one Riordan could’ve never imagined growing up.

Rose referred to his part in the night of Riordan’s disappearance. He knew Riordan well enough to know he’d want a confession straight from the horse’s mouth before he’d find a way to move past it.

“Mitchell told me you had no part in it. Are you telling me he’s lying?”

Raising binoculars to his face, Rose gazed out the front windshield. “Nope. He’s telling the truth. Naylor sent me the assignment – I just never got the message.”

Riordan frowned. “What do you mean you didn’t get the message?”

All of the agents knew they couldn’t work for Naylor and tell him they didn’t get the message.

Lowering the binoculars, he grinned at Riordan. “I’d spent the night at Maria’s house and of course, she got pissed at me for working too much and not going to see her. When the message came through, she dropped my phone in the garbage disposal and turned it on.”

Riordan laughed aloud. “That woman had a temper. Whatever happened to her?”

Jaydan shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since that night. When I found out you went missing, it made me realize life was too damned short to spend it dealing with a high-maintenance woman. Damned fun in bed, but not worth the trouble.”

Swallowing hard, Jaydan stared down at the dashboard. “If I wouldn’t have spent the night with her, I might’ve gotten that message and prevented it all.” Glancing over at Riordan, he said, “I should’ve been there for you, man. I’m sorry I let you down.”

Riordan felt pinned against the passenger door with the weight of Rose’s words. He couldn’t believe Rose had lived with guilt over his disappearance. He blamed himself for the success of Naylor’s plan.

“Rose, how could you even go there? None of it was your fault.”

“Maybe not. But if I’d thought of something other than feeding my dick, I might have saved you.” Turning back to the windshield, he raised the binoculars to his face again. “Either way, it won’t happen again. I’ll always have your back, Saint.”

Riordan swallowed back the lump in his throat. Dammit. Rose’s confession made him feel an inch tall. He’d questioned Rose’s loyalty when he’d lived with this guilt for three years?

Wincing inside, Riordan stared out the passenger window. His gut had told him Rose wouldn’t betray him. Natalie had said so, too. Yet, that damned freaking doubt just loved to wreak havoc in his head.

“So, why are we here, Saint? To get some answers? Take him in? What?”

Mitchell received word that his identity thief had cut short his vacation and caught the next plane home. Riordan and Rose were the welcoming committee.

“Both. We’ll take him back to the office and interrogate him before the feds arrive.”

Rose gave him a conspiratorial grin. “Maybe we should call in Monroe. From what I’ve heard, he can put on one helluva interrogation.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Riordan harrumphed. “Monroe, hell. I’ve got a few ideas of my own.”

“Don’t want to be outdone by him with the woman
and
the job, huh?”

Jackass.

Before Altay, a comment like that would’ve pissed off Riordan. Now, things appeared clearer to him. He had more patience than he ever thought possible.

Besides, he didn’t see it that way. He and Cass would’ve never made it. Just like he could see he and Meeks would never make it.

Not that they had anything going.

“I would’ve never expected Cass to wait around. In the end, it all worked out. She and Monroe belong together.”

Rose looked in his side mirror. “Just like you and Meeks?”

Riordan cursed in his head. He and Meeks got along like oil and water, too different to ever find a happy medium.

“If you were putting together a debate team, maybe. Nothing more.”

He turned around to look at Riordan. “How is she doing, anyway?”

“I checked in on her before we left. They had given her something to help her sleep.” He shook his head. “Damn, Rose. Her leg looks like road kill.”

Meeks had the most flawless, perfect skin he’d ever seen and now, it would remain scarred, like him, forever.

“That’s better than being road kill, Saint. You saved her life. Besides, she was a little too perfect, anyway.”

Riordan grinned. “Yeah, well I would’ve settled for messing up her hair or something.”

A pearl white Cadillac Escalade pulled into the thief’s driveway. It drove straight into the garage.

“Hey Lucy, I’m home.” Rose spoke with a heavy, Puerto Rican accent.

Anger festered inside Riordan, morphing and ugly. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on this guy. He’d been waiting on this day for weeks.

Seconds later, a black Escalade pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. Two hulking men in blazers and jeans emerged and went to the front door.

“Did someone double book welcoming committees?” Riordan said.

“Looks like it.” Rose leaned his hand over the steering wheel.

The two men rang the bell but no one answered. A second later, they shoved open the door and went inside.

“Well, that isn’t very welcoming,” Rose said in a distracted tone.

Riordan shook his head. “Let’s go show them how it’s done.”

Climbing out of the vehicle, they made their way across the street. Rose went around back while Riordan stepped up to the front stoop. Finding the door ajar, he stepped inside.

Passing through the opulent, Oriental living area, Riordan followed the sound of voices to the back of the house. Ducking around a corner, he found the three men in a family room off of the kitchen. One of the men had the imposter backed against the kitchen island, the other standing with his back to a set of French doors that led into the backyard.

“You’re coming with us, St. James, one way or another.”

The imposter gripped the counter behind him. “I just got back from Maui. Can’t it wait?”

The man holding him gave an impatient sigh. “If it could wait, we wouldn’t be here.”

The imposter’s gaze darted from one man to the other. “Why? What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Riordan walked into the room, hands at his sides.

The man at the back door stepped forward and popped his knuckles. The other frowned at Riordan with more impatience.

The imposter glared at him. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?”

Riordan pointed at his chest. “Me? You want to know who
I am
?”

“You freaking heard me.”

The asshole had gumption, he’d give him that.

Riordan stepped to the adjacent side of the island, his tone one of feigned politeness. “How rude of me. My name is Riordan St. James. I think you may have heard of me.”

The two hulks straightened, their eyes going wide before narrowing to slits. The asshole stared at him, mouth agape, before ducking under the hulk’s arm.

Holding out his hand, Riordan concentrated on a butcher knife in a block on the counter. It flew to his hand. Repelling it, Riordan shot it past their heads and into the wall by the French doors.

The three men stared at the knife before turning back to him.

“
You
are coming with us.” Shaking his head once, the hulk by the island grinned at Riordan.

Opening the back door, Rose pointed a gun at the back of the other man’s head. “Guess again, dick weed. Hands behind your head.”

Shutting his eyes with a sigh, the man raised his hands to the back of his head. Rose frisked him, removing his gun, and shoving it in his waistband. He walked him to the refrigerator and cuffed him to the handle.

The other man made no move to run, to pull his weapon, nothing. He just stared at Riordan.

Riordan would rather he ran.

“Are you really St. James?” he said, as Rose pulled the gun from the man’s blazer pocket and shoved it into his waistband with the other.

Rose handcuffed him to the other refrigerator handle.

“I am.”

“Bullshit.” The imposter grabbed a knife from the butcher block and pointed it at Riordan. “I’m Riordan St. James and you’re going to pay for this. Your ass is going to prison.”

Riordan chuckled. “Been there, done that and not going back.”

Riordan started toward him. The imposter threw the knife. Riordan caught it in his hand and backed the imposter against the counter. Realizing he held only a steak knife, Riordan tossed it over his shoulder and held out his hand toward the butcher block. A large meat cleaver rattled in a slot before it shot across the room and into his palm.

He held it at the man’s throat. “You, on the other hand, are going to spend a very long time inside –
after
I get through with you.”

“How did you do that?” The man’s eyes went wide as they bounced between Riordan’s face and the knife.

Sweat ran down his temple.

“Saint.”

Riordan turned around. Rose held up a wallet. “These two work security for Powers.”

Not a surprise.

“Do you have their phones?”

Rose nodded. “And their keys.”

Grabbing the imposter by the shirt, Riordan said, “You’re coming with us.” Turning to the two men, he said, “Tell your boss he’s going to have to find a new V.P. This one just quit.”

The imposter growled with gritted teeth. “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

“No, you don’t know who
you’re
messing with, you sonovabitch. You and whoever put you here can
bring it
. I was born ready.”

#####

“This had better be good. I’m a busy man.”

Dan Meeks sat on a bench in William Land Park in Sacramento, his back turned to John Warner at the opposite end. He stared into the inky darkness of night, too angry, too freaking stressed to deal with the likes of Warner.

However, he had to keep him on his side. Had to babysit the poor sap because his daughter sure wouldn’t do it.

Dammit. He’d hoped she would marry into the Warner empire and seal a permanent partnership. That dumbass Paul Warner had ruined everything.

“I need capital, and fast,” Warner said. “I’m getting nowhere with Natalie.”

Dan gave a dramatic sigh. “I got you millions in government grants for radiated heat research. I can’t do anymore.”

Warner’s low voice seemed to echo in the night with the sound of crickets. “That was three years ago. I need money now or Warner Management will go bankrupt.”

“My daughter holds forty-nine percent ownership in that company, Warner. I won’t tolerate the ruination of her financial situation. You’d better find some way to dig out of your hole.”

His voice came out in a harsh whisper. “I need Paul’s money.”

Dan smiled to himself. “You mean Natalie’s money.”

Warner growled under his breath.

John Warner had been livid when Paul’s will revealed that he’d left all of his assets to Natalie. After abusing Paul all of his life, what did he expect? If he’d been Paul Warner, he probably would’ve killed his older brother years ago. As it was, his brother got to him first.

“Regardless of who owns it, I need money, Meeks. I know you don’t want Luke Powers to swallow up my portion of the market, any more than I do. If I don’t get help, that’s exactly what will happen.”

Freaking Powers. The man had become the thorn, no make that plank, in his side that just wouldn’t go away.

The plan had been working, too. He’d infiltrated Powers’ company and had his man deep on the inside.

He sat months away from bringing down Powers. When that happened, the technology industry would have no choice but to go to Warner.

Warner he could control. He had him by the balls, knowing he could be charged for killing his own brother, and the others that died at that fundraiser. Knowing he did it to gain control of Paul’s assets and resurrect his company.

Damn Robert Naylor for bringing back Riordan St. James.

“Have you asked Natalie for money? Since she’s reinvested Paul’s other assets, she’s doing quite well.”

“She attended the board meeting last week. I made a plea to all of the board members. She has yet to ante up.” He let out a breath. “I’ve lost all ground with her since St. James showed up.” Dan heard him shift on the bench. “You did look at the video I sent you, right?”

Hell, who hadn’t seen the video of Riordan St. James forcing a police car onto two wheels in order to save Natalie? He couldn’t be more grateful that St. James had saved her.

He would’ve preferred St. James had died himself.

“Yes, I saw it.”