Cold Pursuit (Cold Justice) (Volume 2) (19 page)

“I promise that I will try.” He replied solemnly.

The ache in her stomach intensified. “I will need proof they are safe before I do this. I won’t be used anymore.”

He stood watching her for a long moment but she was no longer scared of him. He needed her as much as she needed him.

“I will do what I can,
ghazi
.” And then he was gone.

***

Jed stopped in Spooner to grab groceries. He had no doubt his mother had stocked the fridge in anticipation of his earlier arrival but there were going to be three of them now and the longer they could stay out of sight, the better. He’d bought clothes and extra ammunition in another town. Winter boots, jackets, gloves, mittens, toothbrushes, hairbrushes, pajamas, tampons, and hair dye. Paper and drawing supplies for Michael. He’d bought a tablet for Vivi and a mini tablet for Michael. Who knew how long they’d be here? Also he picked up two burner cells that he paid for with cash. At first glance most of his purchases could pass as supplies for a few weeks away in a cabin or Christmas gifts, but not the burners.

Part of him wanted to ditch all his electronics but the bureau—especially Frazer—knew where he was staying and disappearing entirely would send out a red alert which would get the FBI investigating. He didn’t want that. He had to do everything exactly as if he’d been telling Killion and Frazer the truth so he didn’t raise any suspicion.

In a weird coincidence Frazer had also been born and raised in the great state of Wisconsin. Two cheeseheads at the BAU? What were the chances?

He loaded the groceries into the trunk which was now packed with purchases. He hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours and fatigue was starting to slow him down. Not a great head space for making critical decisions. He paused for a moment, wondering if he was doing the right thing. By not sharing the fact that Vivi and Michael were alive he was putting his job on the line. No one liked rogue agents. The fact he’d almost been killed by Miles Brandon—the so-called Rainbow Killer—had been because he’d been digging into the case after hours. He’d started staking out the guy on his own time, without backup. Frazer had been busy helping their new rookie agent nail a serial killer in West Virginia and had missed the signs of what Jed had been up to. To say Frazer had been pissed when he’d found out was an understatement.

This would add fuel to Frazer’s warnings that he not only got too emotionally involved, but also wasn’t good at following the rules. And at the FBI rules were king.

Did he really want to lose his job?

No, he didn’t. And he couldn’t risk asking for help from his best buddy, Matt Lazlo, either, because it might cost the other guy his job and the former Navy SEAL was a damn fine FBI agent.

Jed got in the car. Vivi sat in the front seat, a gray cable-knit hat covering her bright, red hair. Bright, red hair that was going to be dark brown by tomorrow. She turned to look at him but didn’t say anything. Michael was sleeping in the backseat and she had to be running on fumes.

The idea of calling Frazer and telling him the truth, of placing Vivi and Michael in another vulnerable situation when they didn’t know where the threat was coming from…? He just couldn’t do it. His stomach clenched. He’d joined the FBI to help protect people, but right now the only way of protecting Vivi and Michael was by lying.

He put the car in gear and pulled away. They drove around the big lake where he’d spent countless summers water-skiing with his brothers and best friend Bobby. It was getting dark. He didn’t want anyone in his hometown to see him. Not yet.

Snow was gently falling through a canopy of trees, and lay in a thick unbroken swathe. It was beautiful. It could also kill you if you got lost out here without the right equipment. He was counting on using that in their favor.

He still needed to visit Bobby’s widow and his godson, who lived in Sawyerville just a few miles away. He exhaled and fogged up the windshield. He wasn’t looking forward to that, but it brought an unexpected blast of nostalgia for simpler times. If only the tangled web of teenage love and lust was the worst of their problems—he’d take it. Although lust could still be a problem, he conceded silently, thinking about the effect Vivi had on him. But it didn’t control him.

He drove south, on the west side of the lake toward where his family had property. The snow tires gripped the road despite another five inches of fresh snow.

“It’s lovely out here,” Vivi said quietly in the darkness.

He’d thought she’d drifted off but the woman was determined not to give herself a break. “It is the prettiest place in the US, but don’t tell anyone. It’s a state secret.”

It was hard not to admire a woman who tried so damn hard to do everything on her own. But he couldn’t quite quash the thought that it was more out of necessity than choice, although trusting people was obviously difficult for her. Had her ex abused her too? The idea had his hands tightening on the steering wheel but he was helpless to do anything about it right now. “I don’t get back as often as I’d like.”

“Where do you work, normally?” she asked.

“Quantico.”

“At the National Academy?”

“No.” It took him a moment to realize she knew almost nothing about him and yet she’d trusted him anyway. He cleared his throat. He owed her. “The bureau’s Behavioral Analysis Unit—part of the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime.”

“Catching serial killers.” Her voice grew somber.

His work took him to dark places; places single moms tended to avoid. “We assist all sorts of criminal investigations. Serial killers are the ones who get all the press.”

Her eyes never left him. Vivi Vincent was no fool. “They’ve been in the news a lot lately. Were you involved in any of those investigations?”

His unit had helped stop three serial killers in the last month or so—two dead, and one in jail where Jed had put him, hopefully to live out his days rotting in a cell. It went some way to alleviating the pain of losing Mia, but it was never enough. Maybe it would never be enough.

“It’s what I do,” he said simply.

She turned to stare out of the window. “You’re a brave man.”

He shook his head in denial. The fact he’d already let her down, twice if he counted lying to get her out of the mall that first time, made him feel like a jerk. But he’d make it up to them both. No way were terrorists finding them here in the Northwoods.

Back in the late eighties, before property prices had exploded, his parents had bought a huge chunk of land that included several private lakes. Then his dad had built ten rental cottages doing most of the physical labor himself. Each cottage was isolated and secluded. The cottage Jed always used was on a little island connected to the mainland via a small bridge tucked out of sight. It was one of the few cottages with an internet connection which was both a blessing and a curse. Having internet meant he never really escaped work, but as he also carried paper files maybe he never escaped anyway. Taking a vacation was a state of mind he’d never really mastered, not since he’d graduated the FBI training academy.

His parents’ place was tucked away in a well-hidden gully and both his mom and dad were pretty reclusive. Jed used to wonder if his parents were on the run, they took such great care with their anonymity and personal security. He’d actually run them through the system once, and found nothing. Nearing his family’s property he noted there were no fresh tire marks. Good. Snow was a great way to track people’s movements.

“You grew up around here?” Vivi asked.

“You sound surprised.” He didn’t take his eyes off the road. He had no desire to skid into the embankment because he was busy looking at an attractive woman. And her being attractive was something he was working hard to ignore. He’d become her bodyguard. Her protector. He wouldn’t betray that position of trust. Nor would he get involved with a woman who deserved more than a short-term fling, especially not one with trust issues the size of the San Andreas Fault; and a kid who needed every bit of nurturing the world could provide.

“Just curious.” Her eyes scanned him. She was still waiting for more information. “And you didn’t answer the question.”

That pulled a reluctant laugh out of him. Exhausted and weary as he was, it felt good to laugh. “Sure you’re not a lawyer? You’re not like most women I know.”

She flinched and crossed her arms, staring determinedly out of the window.

“Hey, it wasn’t an insult. Most women treat my word as gospel, just on account of my FBI badge. You don’t. Why is that?”

Her brows rose up. “Gospel?”

“Yup.” He was watching the road, but out of the corner of his eye he saw her arms release before her fingers clenched in her lap. “And this time
you
didn’t answer the question.”

There was a sigh. The sort that screamed bone-tired weariness with no chance of rest. “I guess my parents taught me to question everything when I was growing up, and I mean everything. It’s a hard habit to break.”

“Are they still alive?”

She shook her head. “Plane crash.”

“They traveled a lot?”

“Yes,” she hugged herself again. “They were academics. I spent a lot of time in Africa and South America as a kid.”

He wanted to ask more about her family, about
her
. He needed to know who she really was, and how she was going to hold up during this ordeal. “Is that where you discovered you had a flair for languages?”

“Ah, so you did check me out.” She crossed her legs and he couldn’t help checking her out in a totally different way. He’d bought her the black boots. They just hadn’t looked that sexy in the store. Dammit.

He turned his eyes straight forward and told himself to watch for the turn rather than crash the SUV into a tree. “Just the basics to verify you were who you said you are. Got something to hide?” He hadn’t had time to look at the detailed background check Frazer had emailed to him earlier that day, beyond the fact that until a couple of years ago she’d had high level security clearance. He’d been too busy looking for the female terrorist and then racing to the safe house like a demented, mad man.

“Doesn’t everyone have something to hide?”

The evasion made the hair on his nape prickle.

She was deflecting. But then there were things in his past he wouldn’t want everyone to know either, including the fact his best friend’s wife had tried to seduce him while his buddy was busy risking his life in Afghanistan. No way in hell would he want anyone to know
that
.

Another reason he didn’t get home much.

But this wasn’t about him. They needed to trust one another, which wasn’t going to gel well with his need to keep a little distance between the two of them. And he couldn’t mess it up. Vivi’s trust issues had been apparent from the very beginning, and yet she’d followed him when he’d asked her to, and what’s more she’d also trusted him with her most treasured possession, Michael. This was a big deal.

“How many languages do you speak?” Get her to relax and open up. Establish some common ground.

“I’m fluent in French, Spanish, Arabic, Farsi, and Pashto. I’ve got a good understanding of Italian and German. I tried to learn Mandarin but it turns out my brain just refuses to go there.”

“Wow. You just made me feel like an uneducated hick.”

She laughed. “You need me to stroke your ego, Special Agent Brennan?”

A shock of heat spread over his shoulders, down his spine and straight to his dick.
Shit
. He knew she hadn’t meant to make it sound so sexual, but when her voice got low his IQ dropped to meet it.

Her cheeks flamed even in the dimness of the cab. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

“I know how you meant it.” This woman had been involved in two recent gun battles and someone had tried to drown her son. She wasn’t in a place to flirt. She was just trying to make it through the week without going insane, and without dying. This was his job—that’s why he needed to remember his training. It wasn’t her fault she turned him on. The vibrant hair, the slender body, the vivid eyes, even her devotion to her child seemed to short-circuit the part of his brain that controlled desire. He was not going to compromise the situation when she was so vulnerable and relying on him for protection. They needed to stop this terrorist organization so they could all get on with their lives.

End of story.

Problem was the more time he spent with her, the more attractive he found her. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gone on a date, let alone been more than fleetingly interested in anyone. For the last nine months, he’d been working his ass off tracking the Rainbow Killer every spare moment. He’d even begun hanging out in gay bars in the hopes of hearing something that would lead him to the UNSUB—and eventually it had. He rubbed the back of his neck. Hell, no wonder he hadn’t had a date.

So he was just a little horny that’s all. He could cope with that. He’d been a soldier for three years and knew how to abstain—wasn’t that what cold showers were for?

He cleared his throat. “You worked at the UN. Is that where you learned that having a badge is no guarantee of a man’s veracity?”

“A woman’s actually.”

“Ah.”

“My ex’s new wife—” She checked Michael in the back seat, but the kid was snoring like a puppy “—works for the NSA. Let’s just say I didn’t need the Agency to figure out they’d been intimate while he was still married to me. I know even the important jobs are done by humans—flawed, difficult, temperamental humans. Trust has to be earned, I don’t give it freely.”

Her spine straightened, on the defensive again.

He mulled over the words and ignored the warning. She’d already given him her trust when she’d snuck away from the safe house with him. If he pointed that out she’d probably rethink her actions so he changed direction instead. “Isn’t that the definition of a human being? Flawed, difficult, temperamental?”

“Most of them.” She smiled, letting go of her earlier embarrassment. “So
did
you grow up here?”

Back to her original question. She would make a good lawyer.