Collision Course (12 page)

“You
shouldn’t have courted fame the way you did,” Serrano rebuked. “Your ego got
beyond your control.”

True
enough.
He loved the press coverage, the perks of being rich and
successful. Having his picture taken with all manner of celebrities. But
everything had its price. It became necessary to keep life hidden.

He
swallowed some of his drink, set the glass down and told them again about the
email he’d planted setting the stage for him to move forward. And his follow-up
plans.

That
part was easy. After three days with no contact from the man, people were
asking questions. Trey’s secretary said she’d tried to reach him on his cell
and everything went to voice mail. Bennett’s assistant offered to help and
tried calling some of their foreign offices to see if they’d heard from him.
Needing to leave a paper trail to support his announcement, Bennett had
forwarded copies of the bogus email to his executive assistant and Trey’s
secretary and told them to inform the staff.

“I’ve
sent his picture to all the top men at each of my subsidiaries and asked them
to share it,” he told them. “People who work for me live everywhere—cities,
small towns. I’ve told everyone I’m worried he’s in some kind of danger and
offered a bonus to whoever finds him. I’m trying to keep a lid on the real
situation as long as I can and still try to dig him out.”

“They’ll
approach him and run him off.” Serrano drew on his cigarette and blew a smoke
ring. “Then what?”

Bennett
held up his hand. “I’ve also had my best techie checking every state for recent
sales of vehicles, even if the names on the title transfer are different. Maybe
he somehow found a way to obtain new identification. We’re checking the dates
of purchase and trying to narrow down a logical geographic area. But everything
takes time, unfortunately.”

“Time we
don’t have,” the drug lord pointed out. “We have business to conduct and the
people we do our business with won’t be interested in any of our excuses.
Haggerty needs to be found and eliminated now.”

“Listen.”
Bennett curled his fingers into a fist. “Forgive me for saying this but your
names are already all over the world press in an unfavorable light. I have an
image to protect. And my image,” he continued, as Serrano tried to interrupt,
“is part of what allows the two of you to use my companies. You think I don’t
know how dangerous it is for Haggerty to be out there someplace where we can’t
reach him? Doing god knows what? I have more to lose than either of you.”

Serrano
shook his head. “Never mind. We have to move now. I understand your position,
Charles, but we can’t wait for your process to work. Too much is up in the air,
so I already have my men on it. They can search places your people never heard
of. They’ll find out what he knows, what he’s done with his information, and
dispose of him. You can report it however you wish.”

El-Salaki
nodded his head. “Do whatever you have to and keep me in the loop. Let me know
if you need help. Meanwhile, let’s discuss the next shipment of arms to our
friends in Africa. Charles, I believe you set up the drugs-for-guns trade. Let
us move forward before they decide to shop someplace else. And let’s change the
locations and the dates, just to be on the safe side.”

Bennett
pulled out a cigar, clipped the end off and stuck it in his mouth. Business as
usual. Of course. But he couldn’t suppress the feeling that any minute now
everything would blow up in his face.

*****

Casey
didn’t hurry while showering and changing clothes for work. She needed the time
to pull her thoughts together. Seeing T.J. at the range had been unexpected.
The first thing that flashed across her brain, of course, was the dream. She
hoped her reaction to him hadn’t shown on her face. But hell, the images were still
so fresh she could recall every little detail.

Get
it under control, girl.

Seeing
the way he handled the Glock made her look at him in a different light, too.
Although the sense of danger clinging to him was stronger than ever, at least
she felt a little more assured of his ability to handle himself in an
emergency.

Still,
she was sure if push came to shove nothing beat experience. An unexpected
bubble of anticipation burst inside her, spurring a burst of adrenaline.

Stop
it! Those days are behind me!

Whatever
the unwanted feeling was she had for T.J., it made her dwell on things she was
doing her best to suppress. And then the damn dream. She’d gotten hotter in
fantasy sex with a man she hardly knew than she ever had with Paul. Or anyone
else, come to think of it. What the hell?

Maybe
she was losing her mind. She’d been barely holding it together since she landed
stateside, anyway. Maybe she’d finally dropped over the edge. She might need
therapy.

The
thought of it made her shudder.

She
scrubbed herself three times in the shower, as if the soap and washcloth could
remove every trace of the reverie and every image of the man himself. While she
dressed for work, she gave herself a stern talking to. She’d be businesslike
with T.J. today. Serve him his food, clear away his dishes and just ignore him.
He seldom looked up from his computer anyway.

And if
she had any nervous energy left after working all day at the restaurant, she’d
see if Ben Russell could find some extra hours for her. Since he wasn’t paying
her anyway, she didn’t see a problem. But hanging out with the sheriff could
create other obstacles. She saw him as an old friend and he saw her
as…something else. Casey sighed, tied her hair in a low tail and swiped a tube
of gloss over her lips. Maybe she could find a way to be invisible.

She
snorted.
Yeah, right.

*****

Trey took
another shower, a quick one to wash off the dust and grime from the gun range,
pulled on his clothes and grabbed his laptop and his gun. He needed to get
another cell phone. He’d used two “burn phones” already and tossed them, just
in case. There had to be someplace in Connelly to get a cell. The town couldn’t
be that far out of the twenty-first century. He didn’t exactly have plans to
call anyone. At least not now. But it gave him a sense of security.

As luck would have it, he
found an electronics store about two blocks from the restaurant. He bought
three just in case and activated one of them as soon as he got back in his
truck.

Because
he ran later than usual, most of the booths on the coffee house side were
filled. Thankfully the one he’d used was vacant. Some of the people recognized
him and nodded at him. Smiled. He didn’t know if their quiet acceptance of him
was a good thing or bad. He wanted to blend in, become a familiar part of the
background rather than call attention to himself.

He slid
across the seat and set up his laptop. He had just plugged it into the AC
outlet when a mug filled with coffee appeared on the table. He looked up to see
Casey standing beside him and his groin tightened in the unexpected and
unwanted way it did every time he looked at her. He had no time for anything
except finding answers and protecting himself. His options list didn’t include
sex. Yet every time he saw this woman, his dick gave him an argument.

Focus.
Just focus. And not on Casey.

“Just
made a fresh pot.” She nodded at the mug of steaming coffee in front of him.

“Thanks.”
He managed a smile. “Appreciate it.”

As soon
as she walked away, he booted up the laptop and reviewed the two accounts he’d
already gone through. The first night, he’d discovered what a slow, laborious
process searching through the complex structure would be. And he had to more
than careful. Watch what he did. He didn’t want to get caught in a hidden trap.
His location could be pinpointed in seconds. Even if he left here, they’d have
a specific area to search. He had no idea how soon they might zero in on his
location or how fast he could find another place to set up. He broke into a
sweat every time he thought of what could happen. The software had a facility
to warn him if he tripped a red flag but he might be surpassing its capability
as he dug deeper and deeper. He took great care as he decrypted each document
to watch for any hidden signs.

What
he’d uncovered so far made him even sicker. No one seeing the smiling, ugly
face of Charles Bennett would ever think the man fed so much human misery, had
integrated himself into practices of genocide. But the enormity of his
activities, the fact that Bennett funded much of BGE by drugs, illegal arms and
human trafficking made Trey nauseous. He probably had enough by now to take to
his friend at DHS but wanted to open the last file, the one he felt in his
bones had real names of people and places.

In the
middle of trying to dissect the code for the one final Cimarron file, a slow
and painful process, he heard a soft clink and a small plate with a pastry
landed on his table. The aroma of cinnamon filled his nostrils and made his
stomach rumble. He raised his head and saw Casey standing there. Of course.

“You
didn’t order any breakfast when you came in,” she pointed out. “These are fresh
from Tandy, our pastry cook, so I thought maybe I could tempt you.”

To
refuse would be rude and besides, his stomach was sending him signals.

“Thank
you.”

“Sure.”
She refilled his mug from the carafe in her hand then slid onto the bench
opposite him, cradling her own mug.

Trey
tried to conceal his surprise. He’d never expected her to reach out to him this
way. Oh, they’d exchanged a few words since his first cup of coffee but nothing
more. She was always so controlled, so self-contained. She might have had a Do
Not Disturb sign painted on her. Had something clicked between them at the gun
range? He didn’t know whether to run from it or go with the flow.

“The, uh,
rush has died down and I have a few minutes,” she began. “I thought maybe you
could take five and have coffee with me.” When he stared at her, she shook her
head and picked up her mug as if to leave. “It’s okay. I thought—”

Trey
closed his hand over her wrist. “No. Don’t go. I didn’t mean to sound rude.” He
closed out his work and tipped the cover down on the laptop. “I guess I could
use a little break here.”

“You must
really be into your book,” she commented. “You haven’t stopped for anything
since you got here. Not even to order lunch.”

He
glanced at his watch, stunned to realize it read one o’clock, and realized
Casey was waiting for him to say something.

“Oh,
yeah.” he cleared his throat. “I’m at an intricate part here and got lost in
it.”

No
lie.

Silence
dropped between them.

Casey
took a sip of her coffee, gaze fixed on his face. “I hope you don’t mind my
sitting here. I mean, I thought maybe we could chat a little. If it’s okay with
you,” she added quickly.

“I don’t
mind.” And he was surprised he didn’t. “So.” He took a bite of the pastry,
giving an appreciative moan. “Tell the baker she has my undying love and
affection.”

“Yours
and everyone else’s.” Casey chuckled. “So would I be too nosy if I asked the
real reason you ended up here? We’re not exactly on anyone’s tourist map.”

Thank
god for small favors.

“Just
got in the truck and drove. Wanted a place where I could soak up the atmosphere
for my book. Connelly seemed to fit the bill.”

“So
which came first, the place or the plot?”

“The plot,
of course.” He didn’t want to get too specific with her. “But Connelly has a
good feel to it.”

Casey
laughed and leaned back. “You might get an argument from a lot of residents.
You’d be surprised how many younger people are hell bent on leaving here.”

He
studied her carefully. “That include you?”

She
shrugged. “I guess. Although, I left for ten years and here I am again.”

“But not
where you want to be,” he guessed.

She took
some time answering him, as if choosing her words with particular care. “I’m
not a rancher and I’m not married to a business here, like my folks are. It’s a
great place to raise kids but…” Her sentence drifted off, unfinished.

He
frowned. “You don’t want kids?”

She
shrugged. “I guess I haven’t thought much about it.” She rubbed a fingertip up
and down the side of her mug. “Or about much of anything, it seems.”

Without
thinking, Trey wrapped his fingers gently around her other wrist. He felt her
pulse beat beneath his thumb.

He
couldn’t remember ever feeling such a strong emotional connection to a woman so
fast. But then Casey was real and down to earth, different from all the other
women he knew. No artifice or pretense. His gut told him he could trust her but
could he depend on his gut right now? Witness the situation with Charles Bennett.
He’d counted himself lucky to be working with the most admired man in the
country. Until a tingling sensation told him things weren’t quite what he
thought.

For a
moment, he had an unrealistic need to confide in Casey. Since he’d left his
house and started running, he’d felt isolated and without human resources. A
cold and frightening state to suffer. He had no idea how men and women who
worked covert operations managed to live this way.

He could
unload on Casey, tap into her expertise, but then he’d be putting her in
danger, which wasn’t fair to her. If Bennett managed to find him, she could get
caught up in the situation along with him. A man with any sense would pack up
and leave Connelly. Get out of town and out of her life.

But he
couldn’t seem to make himself do it.

“What’s
your story, Casey? It’s none of my business, but you seem about as unhappy as
I’ve seen anyone in a long time.”