Body of Evidence (Evidence Series) (18 page)

Curt pressed the recliner button and tilted them both backward. She fell asleep and dreamed hot, sexy, life-affirming dreams that had nothing to do with bombs, imprisonment, explosions, or shootings.

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

T
HE INTERCOM BUZZED
, waking Curt from a light sleep. “We’re thirty minutes out from Davis-Monthan,” the pilot said. “We’ll be on the ground just after midnight local time.”

Mara stirred on his lap, and Curt allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of holding her a moment longer, telling himself he hadn’t crossed any ethical boundaries, but knowing he’d come dangerously close to the line.

Her eyes popped open, and she smiled lazily. The hero worship in her gaze triggered a heady, dangerous feeling, and he fought the urge to kiss her. Since when did he have—let alone need to fight—urges?

Since a five-foot-two archaeologist with long blond hair, blue eyes, and a beautiful pixie face had taken over his life.

She stood and stretched. “How long did I sleep?”

He glanced at his watch. “Two and a half hours.”

“That’s all? Felt like eight. I feel wonderful.”

And she looked tempting as hell. Blood returned to his legs, accompanied by the sensation of sharp pins and needles piercing his feet, but the pain was a small price for the pleasure of holding her. She really might be the one to break his control. It disturbed him to realize how much the idea appealed.

He stood and grabbed his cell phone to call the secretary of state. The man answered right away, but his voice showed he’d woken from a deep sleep. “Curt Dominick, I was beginning to think you were dead.”

The man obviously hadn’t lost sleep over the idea. “Sorry, sir, but calling you was out of the question while we were on Oahu. Even now, our conversation is probably being monitored.”

“Please tell me this means you got off the island safely with the girl.”

Curt glanced at Mara and refrained from saying
the girl
was thirty years old and every bit a woman. That sort of statement would alarm the secretary of state as much as it did Palea. “Yes, sir. We’ll be in DC by morning.”

“Excellent. We’ll hold the press conference at Joint Base Andrews.”

“A press conference puts a target on Ms. Garrett.”
And I have a trial to get to
.

“You’re starting to sound paranoid, Dominick.”

He grimaced. He’d known this was coming. “With good reason.” His gaze still on Mara, he said the words he knew she’d hate. “No press conference. She’ll be taken into protective custody as soon as the plane lands.” In a few hours, Mara would be out of his life. Except for when she testified, he’d never see her again.

M
ARA’S BODY WAS
in a frenzy from the different time zones she’d been in over the last few days and didn’t know if it felt like morning or night. All she knew was she was wide awake, wired, and mad as hell.

Curt intended for her to continue being a prisoner.
For my own good, my ass. He wants to make sure I don’t take off without testifying.

The jet rolled to a stop, and within minutes, the pilots had the door open and the stairway unfolded. There was no fanfare this time, just a colonel accompanied by a master sergeant waiting next to a vehicle at the end of the runway.

The senior officer introduced himself as Colonel Norris and shook hands with Curt, only greeting Mara as an afterthought. “My orders are to give you whatever you need to get you on your way.” Something subtle in his tone, or maybe it was the ever-so-small curling of his lip, informed Mara he found this assignment distasteful.

“As I told you on the phone, Colonel, we’re here for two things: to meet Senior Airman Eric Fuller and refuel the jet.”

The colonel gestured to the master sergeant. “First Sergeant Boggs has command authority over Airman Fuller’s squadron. He’ll take us to his dormitory.”

“Is Fuller there?”

“As far as we know. He has not been warned of your visit.” The man adjusted his stance to include Mara without directly addressing her. “Ms. Garrett can wait here.” He waved toward the nearby hangar.

“Ms. Garrett stays with me,” Curt said.

The colonel indicated four MPs stationed around the jet. “She’ll be safe. We don’t intend to make the same mistake Marine Corps Base Hawai’i made.”

“No.”

She was gratified by Curt’s firm tone but annoyed at being left out of the conversation. “I need to speak with Airman Fuller.” She crossed her arms and gave Colonel Norris a look that warned against underestimating her because she was small or a woman, a look she’d perfected for dealing with military men during her years with JPAC.

After a moment of silent standoff, the colonel said, “Fine,” and led them to the vehicle. Boggs took the driver’s seat while Curt and Mara climbed in the rear.

From the front, the colonel asked, “Why do you want to speak with Airman Fuller?”

Curt flashed a tight-lipped smile and said nothing. Mara followed his lead.

Colonel Norris reddened. Men like Norris were not accustomed to being ignored or denied. “I have MPs standing by at the dormitory,” the colonel said. “If this is a legal matter, on base it falls under military jurisdiction.”

“We’re just going to ask a few questions,” Curt said, unruffled. She had the feeling he was biting back the urge to cite legal precedents that proved the colonel wrong.

“It’s a personal matter,” Mara added. “I’m sorry it was necessary to disturb you in the middle of the night.” She knew her role was to be obsequious when Curt shouldn’t be, maintaining the balance of power in a way that pleased both egos.

They parked in a fire lane and followed the colonel and sergeant inside a tall dormitory building. Moments later, they were in the elevator, and Mara felt a sudden, sharp chill as the doors slid closed.

This is about to go horribly wrong.
The elevator doors opened, and she flinched, on edge. A look from Curt conveyed his awareness of her trepidation.

Stepping out of the elevator, she noted MPs stationed at either end of the hallway. The colonel hadn’t exaggerated his desire to maintain military authority.

Dim bulbs in wall sconces illuminated small patches between every second door, giving the effect of a telescoping hall. “Which room is Airman Fuller’s?”

Boggs led the way. “Twenty-three.”

Their footsteps padded softly on the thin carpet. Curt walked beside the colonel while Mara trailed behind. At the door, Boggs paused. “I have the authority to enter his quarters, but I’d rather knock.”

“Is there a back way out?”

“The rooms don’t have fire escapes.”

“Then knock.”

The man’s thick fist met the door. The sound reverberated up and down the silent hall, but no one answered. After waiting a polite interval, Curt said, “Open the door.”

The sergeant’s jaw tightened, but he pulled out his key and complied. The door swung on silent hinges. Mara strained to see into the darkened room between the men’s shoulders.

A sharp metallic smell enveloped her. Her gasp coincided with similar sounds from the men, and the sergeant reached inside and slapped the light switch.

The fluorescent light flickered, then washed the room in stark brightness, revealing blood on the bed, on the walls, across the floor.

Time spiraled, or maybe she did, because the next thing she knew, she was sitting on the floor with her arms clasping her knees. Curt approached, concern stamped across his features. She shook her head, unable to accept comfort, unable to do anything except maybe vomit down the garbage chute.

He knelt in front of her. “Jeannie’s not there.” His voice was low, husky, and filled with regret.

Relief flared, but it was short-lived as the implication became clear. “Eric?”

He nodded, and her heart split open in grief.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

C
URT’S SMUG ASSURANCE
Raptor didn’t have a presence in Arizona shattered the moment the door had swung open, and, if his hunch was right, he was now at least three moves behind a mercenary on a killing streak. He squeezed Mara’s hands and said, “I need you to hold together just a little bit longer. At least until we get away from here.”

He rose, pulling Mara to her feet. Behind him, Colonel Norris said, “You’ve got questions to answer, Dominick.”

“We’ll both answer questions. By phone. Right now I’ve got to get Ms. Garrett out of here. That blood is fresh.” So fresh the streaks were still spreading down the walls. “And she’s a target.” He should have guessed Evan would go after Jeannie. And while they’d been holed up on a tiny boat, waiting for their jet to arrive from DC, Evan Beck had probably already been en route to the mainland on a Raptor jet. Beck had access to credentials both real and fake that would get him on Davis-Monthan without a hitch.

Mara swiped away a tear. “Curt,” she said, a new urgency to her voice. “I need to tell you something.” The pitch on the last word reached an alarming octave.

Those eyes that had captivated him from the start held a new emotion. Guilt. Shame. Utter horror. Oh hell. Oh crap.
Oh holy fuck
. In one moment, Curt knew with sudden, horrible certainty the rotten truth—his sweet little victim, the woman he’d saved in North Korea, the one he’d missed the first day of the trial for, and the one who’d been steadily seducing him since P’yŏngyang, had been holding out on him.

“What the hell is going on, Dominick?” Colonel Norris asked.

“Not now, Colonel,” Curt said without taking his gaze off Mara.

“If you’re not going to answer questions, then you’re going to get the hell off my base.”

“Agreed,” he said, and grabbed Mara’s arm and pushed her down the hall. Two dozen steps away, he backed her into the wall. He was rougher than he should be, but dammit, he was pissed. “A man is dead. I think it’s past time for you to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Her eyes widened. So innocent. So beautiful. Such a liar. “I’ll tell you. As soon as we’re alone. Back on the jet.”

“You won’t put it off one more fucking second. You’ve had plenty of chances. On the boat, in the car, on the plane. In a box, with a fox.
Now
, Mara.”

She swallowed and gripped the lapel of his jacket. “I just left one thing out. You’ll understand when I explain.”

“I’ve risked
everything
for you.”

Tears slid down her cheeks. But these were the type he was immune to. “Please, Curt. I didn’t know who to trust. And I didn’t think—” She swiped at a tear. “I had no idea—”

He cut her off by waving an arm toward Airman Fuller’s room. “Could you have prevented that?”

She shook her head frantically. “No. I don’t know what’s going on. I had no idea Eric would be involved. Believe me. He was a friend.”

“What
do
you know?”

She pleaded for understanding with tear-filled eyes. “That last morning…the bomb we found…it was a US-made Korean-war-era smallpox bomb.”

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN