Beginning: A PAVAD Prequel Novella (PAVAD: FBI Romantic Suspense) (4 page)

THEY
were being followed. He knew it, and by the look in her eyes, she knew it too. He glanced over his shoulder at the passenger. “Sir, we’re most likely being followed. What do you want us to do?””

Ed Dennis straightened. “Maintain our course until they approach.”

“Yes, sir.” Royal looked at the driver. She had a focused calm about her that he had to admire. “You good?”

“It’s not the first time we’ve been in this situation. Or the tenth. We’ll be ok. You scared?”

“Hardly, baby. I just like the excitement.”

“I’m sure you do.”

She sped up a little. Royal watched the SUV behind them do the same. “You think this is our guy?”

“Hard to believe it’s something else.”

There will be an exit coming up. It leads south to Louisville No interstate.”

Way ahead of you.” She whipped the car off the main highway and straight to the exit. She played it smoothly, leaving the SUV unable to follow. “And we’re not going that way, either. Always do the unexpected, Royal.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He leaned closer. “Does that extend to other areas, or just driving?”

“That, Royal, is something you are not going to ever find the answer to.”

“Maybe we’ll have to talk about that later.”

She drove calmly, but both of them were well aware of how easy it would be to find them again. She drove for about four miles, then turned the vehicle right. “We’ll head east, then go straight down to Louisville, rather than toward Illinois. It’ll add a few hours of our time, but it might make things a little difficult to find us.”

Royal thought for a moment. “Find highway 37. It’ll lead through Bloomington, we can decide what direction to take after that.”

“Storm is approaching from the west.” The director said. “Drive as far as you can, but once it hits we’re stopping”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ed doesn’t drive in thunderstorms. One thing he’s pretty strict about that.”

It surprised Royal. He knew of people with a fear of storms, but he hadn’t expected the deputy director of the FBI to be one of those people.

“If you’ve ever experienced a tornado, Agent Royal, you’ll understand. When my daughter was eight we were separated by an F4. She and my sister were very lucky to be alive. I was out driving looking for them. I ended up with a broken arm. Now I have a healthy appreciation for Mother Nature. Besides, I have some things I must do tonight. We need to stop whenever we can. “

Royal didn’t have to like it, but he would do it. Whatever the director wanted, and Royal would do his damnedest to protect the man.

He could see that Len felt the same. Jasmine. Her given name suited her, pretty, feminine, yet strong and subtle.

They barely spoke for the next two hours. The storm picked up around them. Once the rain almost completely erased the ability to see, she had Royal type in their location and directions to the nearest hotel. Royal looked around the best he could—they were in the middle of nothing but cornfields and old farm house.

“Says go west.”

“Where?”

“First chance you get. There’s a turn right at the courthouse. Stay on the road around twelve miles.”

He wasn’t afraid of storms, but this tempest raging around them was enough to make even him nervous.

But Len kept herself cool, even when a branch slammed into the passenger window next to Royal’s head.

“Twelve miles you said?” Was all she asked.

“Probably half that.” Her voice was tight, but she kept the wheel steady, even when the wind buffeted the rental car over the road. They passed a pharmacy and a McDonalds. The town had only two stoplights

It was the longest six miles Royal could remember in a very long time. “There. There’s a hotel.”

Jasmine pulled the car into the entryway and toward a parking garage. Across from the parking garage was a casino.

In the midst of nowhere Indiana… a casino.

“Really?”

“Anyone feel up to a game of cards?” Dennis asked. “I knew Indiana had casinos, but this is the first I’ve seen one in such a small town. Shall we step over to the hotel?”

Jasmine parked the rental car, and they climbed out as the thunder and lightning continued outside the garage. “Let’s get inside. Hopefully there’s a vacancy.”

“If not, we’ll find a game, and see how much I can fleece some Indiana high-rollers out of.”

LEN
knew Ed was just teasing—he’d never fleece anyone. It wasn’t his way, though he was an excellent card player. “I’d rather they have a room, with a shower and a place to sleep.”

Royal had his bag slung over his shoulder but she knew from the way he stood that he was studying every corner of the parking garage. She had her weapon ready, but concealed. She wasn’t taking any chances.

And neither was Royal.

There was one room left—apparently the hotel was booked up with a publishing convention—and they were directed toward the top floor and a small supposedly historical room. The hotel was a beautiful place, Len had to admit, and it seemed to stay true to its history. The front desk gave them a pamphlet describing that history. Len studied quickly when in the elevator. “Interesting place. Boxers, mobsters, former presidents, all were supposed to have been here in the early nineteen hundreds.”

“Don’t care much for the décor. But I saw the sign for an indoor pool. Len, you have a red bikini? Maybe the gift shop will have one in your size.”

Len heard Ed laugh beneath his breath. Had he been any other boss than Ed she’d have been furious. But they both knew Royal was just trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll tell you what, Royal…once we’ve got this bastard after Ed, I’ll wear a red bikini—as long as you wear a pink one.”

“If that’s what it takes…”

***

The director worked on paperwork for a few hours after they checked into their room. There were two double beds, and a couch. They moved the couch to better block the door, and it was left unsaid that Ed would take the bed in the center.

Not that Royal had any intention of sleeping for many hours. He’d let Jasmine rest first—she was starting to look little and droopy. After she was rested he’d get a few hours’ rest himself.

She seemed ok with that and he waited for her to take a shower.

He ordered dinner for all of them, and kept Ed out of the line of sight when it was delivered.

Royal spent most of the night focused on the five names in the file, trying to eliminate some of them. Len rested, as soon as they were finished eating. Royal kept his attention on the papers in front of him.

On the details of the lives and careers of men he’d worked with for over two years. Men he knew, men he respected. It left a dirty taste in his mouth.

He worked on the case until the early hours of the morning, but the dawn brought with it no clear answers.

They’d just have to wait until the traitor revealed himself. Somehow.

Len woke an hour after dawn, and Royal enjoyed watching the way the woman looked.

That had been something else he’d thought about through the night.

Jasmine Len was someone he wanted to get to know a hell of a lot better.

She sat up in the bed, and the blanket fell back, revealing a simple black T-shirt with FBI emblazoned across her nice breasts.

Royal took one look at that chest and knew immediately she wasn’t wearing a bra. That idea had his mouth going dry.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so attracted to a woman so quickly. Yes, he flirted. Yes, he’d dated quite a few women over the last five years, but those dates had slowed considerably in the last year.

It wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility that he deserved the reputation he had of being a player, but he’d made damned certain not to hurt the women involved. He’d always been upfront about his expectations.

But something about Jasmine Len felt different.

He wasn’t sure what to think about that.

IT
took Len a moment to realize where she was. And who was with her. She looked over at the second bed. It was easy to recognize Ed—they’d shared a hotel room a time or two, especially when he was under a security detail. He trusted her to watch his back; she knew he didn’t offer that acceptance to many others.

But they weren’t the only ones in the room.

Royal was watching her, looking strong and sexy and good—and just a little bit rumpled.

No wonder so many women talked about how absolutely—what was the word Yolanda from custodial had used?—
yummy
Dakon Royal was.

He smiled at her, flashing dimples and a beautiful, perfectly white smile. “Good morning. It’s a beautiful day in southern Indiana. I’ve mapped out a good route to get us home. But I’m exhausted. You up for driving again?”

“I think I can handle half the ride. Or Ed can drive. While I watch the road.” She stood, then threw the comforter back over the bed. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I was wide awake. And I knew you needed to rest.”

“I don’t need coddled, Royal.”

“Never said you did. But one of us needed to be rested today, and I was too wired. Figured why wake you? And I went over the files. And over and over them.”

“Nothing stands out. All of the men in that stack are white men in their late forties early fifties. All meet the same size requirements as the one in Ed’s garage.”

“And there was nothing distinguishing about the guy at all? No southern accent, no phrasing, nothing that stood out to you.”

“No. On that note, we can probably rule out Roger Stephenson.”

“Why?”

“His accent. There’s a slight twist to his words at the end. The guy in the garage didn’t have that. And removing it isn’t something easy to do.”

“So that leaves four. Whiler, Clemmons, Fowler and Gannan.”

“Not Gannan. He’s been out of the state for two weeks. His brother died, in Florida. And he has a trace of an old speech impediment that the guy in the garage didn’t have.”

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that about Gannan’s brother. I met him once.”

“He’d been ill for a long time. So, three.” She tried to ignore the look in his eyes, but it wasn’t working. She knew exactly where his attention was focused anyway. “Dakon…” She purred the word, then got a tiny thrill at the surprise in his demon dark eyes. “Dakon…if you keep looking where you’re looking I’m going to superglue your eyes shut first chance I get…”

He laughed, a rich sound that made her feel a tingle in places she really shouldn’t. “Baby, if you want to get that close to me, I can’t guarantee what will happen. There won’t be any glue involved, either.”

She wanted to quip back at him, but for some reason the words stuck in her throat.

When had she last enjoyed herself so much?

Len rarely flirted. She’d never been good at that kind of thing—not even when not working. She’d studied her way through high school, and had been tunnel-visioned on her career plans through college and since.

She could fake it, but with a man like Dakon Royal she knew she couldn’t keep the farce up for very long.

But a part of her wasn’t certain she wanted to. “I’m going to go take a shower. Be warned—waking Ed isn’t always a smart thing to do.”

“What’s next on his itinerary?”

“It’s eight now. He’s got a three o’clock with Brown from I.A. That’s all we scheduled for today.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to make that.”

“I…” There was a knowing look in his eyes, wasn’t there? One that said he knew exactly how unsettled she felt. How things seemed different between them in the bright morning. “Excuse me.”

“Of course. And Jasmine?” He stood and approached her. Dropped warm hands on her shoulders. “We’ll get coffee when we get back to St. Louis. Or grab a plate of nachos at Smokey’s. Just talk. Become friends. Nothing that says we can’t be friends, is there?”

She shook her head, feeling like a stupid teenage girl with her first crush—a crush on the popular boy who would never really look at her.

And that made her feel even more ridiculous. She didn’t lack in confidence; she knew she was physically attractive, successful at her job, well-respected by everyone who mattered to her, and tried her best to make good decisions. But this guy somehow made her forget all of that.

She wasn’t sure that was such a good thing.

What kind of sane woman wanted a man who made her so confused?

DAKON
knew what she was thinking, and it had him forcing himself to resist grabbing her and kissing her. Only the knowledge that she’d probably club him upside the head if he even tried, had him controlling himself.

His cell broke the silence between them and had the older man shifting on the bed.

Ed Dennis was a clear reminder that they weren’t exactly in a position to act on the attraction that Dakon had no intention of hiding. But once they caught the guy responsible for what was going on, he would press his case with Len.

What could a friendly beer between the two fo them hurt? She was free to use the just-friends card at any time. Or even the just-colleagues one. Dakon just wanted to get a handle on the beautiful and intriguing Agent Len that he’d probably been stupid to overlook before.

He didn’t see anything wrong with that.

He grabbed his cell.

Ed Dennis’s daughter Georgia. Dakon accepted the call. “George. Hey.”

“Where’re my father and Len?”

She skipped right over the niceties, but Dakon didn’t mind. He heard the fear in his friend’s voice. And she was probably the only woman he was so close to where he’d never had a romantic interest.

He’d held her hand and filled her with beer and pickles on the first anniversary of her fiancé’s death. He and their unit chief Mal Brockman had somehow puzzled out the instructions for her son Mattie’s swing set when her father had been unavailable.

She was like a sister to him. Or a really close cousin.

“Your old man is still sleeping, sweetie. And Len is about to take a shower.”

“She’s safe?” There was definite worry now.

She
? He’d have thought she would ask about her father first.

“Yes. Line of sight. Why?” Dakon wrapped a hand around Jasmine’s arm when she would have walked right by him. “Something she should be concerned about?”

“Len’s desk was searched early this morning. And her landlady called me when she couldn’t find Len. The team flew in early this morning once the weather cleared.”

“Why’d Len’s landlady call you?” He tightened his hold around her arm and pulled her closer. She was so short he could easily rest his chin on her head. Her attention had sharpened and she was leaning toward him, trying to listen in to his phone. He shifted, giving her room cuddled against his chest. His hand rested on her back, and he absently played with the black strands tickling his fingers.

She felt so damned soft. In all the right places.

He listened to his teammate as she listed the details of why she’d called them so early.

What she said had him shifting his original thinking on the case. On the threat. “George. You get Mal, meet us at the Illinois line. We need to talk.”

He disconnected the call and looked down at the woman in his arms. He kissed her nose—shocking the hell out of both of them.

“Royal, what happened?” Her eyes were worried. And that bothered him.

“Someone searched your home, and your personal vehicle. Your landlady was knocked over when the guy ran by her. But she managed to scratch him, or something. Georgia is having Ritchison in Forensics run it for her. Quietly. I’m not sure how much we can trust him.”

“If Georgia asks, he’ll do it. He’s a bit sweet on her, and on Ana.”

“Most of the guys we know are
into
one or the other of those two.” Because they were truly beautiful women. Much like the one in his arms.

“Was Gretta hurt? She’s a friend.”

“More like hopping mad, according to Georgia.”

“Was anything taken?” Her voice was tight, and her hands wrapped around the cotton of his shirt.  

“No. Georgia and Mal are meeting us at the Illinois line as soon as we can get there. Better wake the director.”

“You need some sleep.”

“I’ll sleep while you drive.”

Dennis sat up and looked around. Royal filled him in on the changed situation, and Dennis agreed. They moved quickly, getting dressed, checking out—it was nothing they hadn’t done a thousand times before in the jobs they all had. None of them really spoke, either.

Royal settled into the back seat, knowing that while he’d rest his eyes, there was no way in hell he was going to sleep.

Not with what he was mulling over in his head.

Something Georgia had said made things just a little bit clearer.