Dark Memories (The DARK Files Book 1) (2 page)

Damn. What was it about this woman that turned his thoughts poetic? Or to fantasy. Because that’s what their ancient affair had been. A fantasy.

Their dreams together — a fantasy all right. Laura had killed all the dreams. Betrayed the future they planned.

He slapped the mosquito drilling his arm, flicked it away. A Maine one big as the ones in the Colombian jungle. Bigger.

He never should have agreed to this assignment. He should’ve tried harder to persuade Nolan to send him back to Colombia. Combating narco-terrorists, a man knew his enemies and the dangers involved. Cole spoke Spanish well enough to catch the nuances of deception, of treachery.

Did he and Laura speak the same language anymore?

Besides, the narco-terrorists were making deals with the government, so Nolan probably wouldn’t go for it.

A trip in the countryside had sounded like a chance to unwind after a tough assignment and the end to his latest romantic entanglement. That woman had pushed for more than dinner and sex.

He never let a woman any closer.
Only once had he been that vulnerable.

But he was over her, past his feelings for her. He’d put all that behind him long ago.

From the studious, classy girl he remembered, she’d grown into a serious, classy woman. Educated. A museum curator.

That didn’t surprise him.

Eight months ago, this curvy, elegant female had walked away from a vicious attack that would have sent some Marines he knew cowering under their beds.

That shocked the hell out of him.

When the cop guarding her room was found dead in the hospital stairwell, she fled in the middle of the night. No one had seen or heard from her. Until a traced phone call led his agency to her here.

He’d known it was her as soon as he saw the name Laura Murphy. Murphy was the cat at the stables where ten years ago she rode and he worked. He used to wish she’d cuddle him the way she did that furball.

How did a pampered princess survive underground?

When gravel crunched on the path, he levered away from the tree.
Drawing on years of discipline, he produced a professional facade. He would think of her as only an assignment.

Her mouth was tight and her shoulders rigid. Amber flames burned in her eyes. He’d never known her at a loss for words. What she must be thinking, he couldn’t guess.

At that thought, he allowed one corner of his mouth to quirk up. “Cabin doesn’t have much of a lock. Or much of a door, for that matter.” He indicated the single wood panel with a window.

She glared at him. “Explain yourself. I want answers. Right now. Then leave me alone.”

He yanked his ID from a pocket and held it up. “General Nolan’s my boss.” Let her absorb that fact first. Then he’d hit her with the rest.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the leather case. After she’d stared at it long enough to memorize the damn thing, she gaped at him as if at a stranger. Which he guessed he was, after so many years.

“You’re a federal agent?”

“Officer, not agent.”

“A federal officer,” she repeated, as if trying to absorb it. “Isn’t that hiring the wolf to guard the sheep?”

He swallowed the caustic response that burned his tongue. He needed her cooperation. “Who better to know what the other wolves are up to?”

Wariness again sharpened her gaze as he pocketed the ID case. “How did you find me? I was extremely careful not to leave a trail. I told no one where I am.”

“But you telephoned your parents twice from the pay phone at the inn. Second one was last week to their villa on the Amalfi Coast.”

“I had to let them know I was all right. Oh. You traced the call.” She lifted an exasperated gaze to the tree branches arching overhead. “I thought Markos would find me if I had a cell phone. And anyway, I can’t afford one.”

“After the first call, we tapped the phone at your father’s request. They want you protected.”

“I should have guessed.” She inhaled sharply. “But Markos could get to them.”

“Don’t worry. They’re under federal protection.”

Chattering rent the peace of the wooded clearing. Two red squirrels scurried past them and scrambled up a spruce tree.

A frown etched Laura’s forehead. “Attempted murder isn’t a national security issue. Why is your agency — DARK or something — involved? My father plays golf with General Nolan, but I can’t believe he would send in the Feds at the request of a retired state department official.”

He was tempted to make a smart-ass rich-girl comment, but restrained himself. The idea of family favors appalled her as much as him. “You may not be a national security issue, but your boyfriend Alexei Markos is.”

A shudder twitched her shoulders. “Don’t call him my boyfriend. We were social acquaintances, a relationship he severed with murder. He’s merely Markos, no first name for me.”

“Markos has some unpleasant playmates. You heard of the New Dawn Warriors?”

“Vaguely. It’s an extremist group, an obscure sect. From the Middle Eastern country of Yamar, I believe.”

He arched a brow. “Most people wouldn’t know that much. New Dawn are militant extremists, itching to eradicate anyone East or West who doesn’t adhere to their strict code. They’re suspected in an attempted airplane hijacking and the embassy bombing in Monrovia. Fortunately, they don’t yet have the financial clout of other groups like ISIS.”

“Ah, that’s where Markos comes in. The charming and greedy import-export tycoon.” An angry crimson stained her fine cheekbones. “Let me guess. The art and antiquities he had me authenticate were part of building their bankroll. And he knew all along. A deal with the devil.”

“I always did admire your quick mind.” He planted one foot on the top step of her cabin and propped a forearm on his knee. “A deal with the devil is right. Markos’s client was Husam Al-Din. He’s a fanatic bent on building his group into a world power. To locate him and stop New Dawn, we need leverage with Markos.”

“And I am that leverage.”

“Exactly. We think he knows where Al-Din is. A credible witness against him for murder and attempted murder might encourage him to sing like the arrogant peacock he is.”

“Peacocks don’t sing. They screech.”

“I didn’t say it would be pretty.”

Fear and doubt clouded her eyes before she turned to the window box. Doubt about nailing Markos. Doubt about Cole’s ability to protect her. She pinched two dead blossoms and dropped them on the ground. Her hand trembled and she shoved it into the pocket of her shorts.

“Why you, Cole? Why did Nolan send you?”

“He said because we went to school together, you’d know me. Trust me.” Hell, there was a laugh and a half.

He’d refused, but Nolan insisted he needed Cole’s expert undercover skills and sixth sense for danger.
So here he was.

Rationalizing that he wanted only to comfort her, he eased over behind her, let his hands hover above her slender shoulders. He shouldn’t touch her. He should keep his hands and all other body parts strictly away. He needed discipline to do his job.
Yet he could no more keep his hands from her than he could’ve refused the general’s orders. The temptation of her skin and her fragrance wove the old spell.

He cupped her shoulders and turned her to face him. “An informant spotted Markos in Boston. We believe he’s traced you. Pack up, and we can leave in an hour. I’m to take you to a safe house out West.”

She was in danger here, and soon, if reports were accurate. His gut clenched with fear that she wouldn’t trust him. Hell, from the looks of things, she wouldn’t trust him as far as the door, much less Utah.

Emotions chased across her features — fear, fury, determination. She twisted from his grasp. “I’m going nowhere with you. After the way you treated me, I have no reason to trust you.”

“What the hell? You have things backward.” She was the one who dumped him, left him strung out for the vultures. And
she
was ticked off? But this wasn’t the time. He held up his hands. “This doesn’t have to be personal.”

“No, and it’s not going to be. Trent Nolan can send someone else to protect me. I’ll even give him a call, so you’re off the hook. You’ve had your say. Now leave.”

She ducked past him and unlocked the door with a key slipped from her shorts pocket.

This mission couldn’t fold before he even began. “No can do. Arrangements have been made. A DARK team is in place, not just me. Markos could already know you’re at this resort.” He racked his brain for anything that would keep her talking to him. He gestured at the keys in her hand. “Good your survival instincts have you buttoning up.”

“Old habits die hard. I’m used to keeping my doors locked.” Clearly ready to shut him out, she glared at him from the doorway. “I’m perfectly safe here in Maine. At least I was. Now please go. I have no more to say to you.”

***

Once inside the cabin, the impact of the encounter slammed into Laura, and she sank onto a chair. She stared into space and hugged herself.

He was gone, but where he’d touched her, sensation still lifted the hairs. The attraction remained, undimmed by years. It was only chemical, sexual.
Once she’d thought Cole was Mr. Right, but he was Mr. Wrong after all. She’d thought so then and she
knew
so now.

His very presence here threatened her safety. If the Feds could find her, so could Markos. Cole was right about that.

She’d fled Washington, D.C., last October with few belongings and little cash. She hated forfeiting her career and leaving her family and friends. After months alone on the run and in hiding, her previous life seemed a distant dream.

But fear crouched in her mind and in her belly, like a hibernating beast, ready to roar to life.

Twice she’d defied death. Twice something in her clung to life. Double jeopardy. She didn’t relish a triple. She didn’t have nine lives to risk like the feline name she adopted. But she could do nothing except remain in hiding until she could return and testify.

A month ago, she’d found this secluded Maine resort, a haven to a woman on the run. Teaching tennis and sailing here provided a focus … and kept the beast at bay. But oh, God, she was so tired of dodging, dissembling, hiding.

She wanted Alexei Markos behind bars.

She wanted to be Laura Rossiter again. To be safe.

But she couldn’t tolerate even one day of body guarding by Cole Stratton.

Tears welled, and she blinked them away. Tears would accomplish nothing. Resolve and determination would keep her strong. She squared her shoulders and stood.

The last thing she wanted was for Cole to probe their past, to learn the secret she’d kept for ten years.

That left her only one choice.

AS DAWN’S LIGHT peeked over the ridge, Laura coaxed her rusty hatchback up Deer Mountain on the road from Hart’s Inn Resort as far as the scenic turnout. In her rearview mirror, she spied a black-and-silver motorcycle zooming out of nowhere, on her tail. Cole. She slumped. She should’ve known.

The bike roared up beside her. When it threatened to bump her, she pulled into the overlook parking lot.

As her dad said, the best defense was an offense. She rolled down the window. “Cowboy, you’re in my way.”

“If you’re out for a Sunday drive, it’s only Wednesday.” He looked too good in the worn jeans, snug on his muscular thighs, and a black T-shirt with the Harley eagle logo. “We never finished our talk. Imagine my shock when you pulled out in that excuse for a car.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said.

“Me, neither. The ground behind your cabin is harder than this pavement.” He rolled his shoulders.

She recoiled, not liking the implications. “You slept behind my cabin?”

He sighed. “Keeping watch. That’s what I’m here for, 24/7.”

Did he know the turmoil that idea generated inside her? Her head swam, and she felt unbalanced, as though her protective layers were peeling away. “I gave you my answer yesterday. What part of no don’t you understand?”

“Oldie lyrics don’t cut it. Neither does no. Markos may have already found you. If you won’t go to a safe house, come back and we’ll talk. DARK wants Markos. You want to be safe from him. We can work out … something.”

Safe, yes, dear God, she wanted to be safe, but working out something with Cole? How could that be safer than the situation she was in? His nearness was devastating to her pulse. His low voice sent heat eddying through her veins.

Just like old times.

She gripped the steering wheel and fought for the logic and control that had been her bulwark over the years. He had her under surveillance, so she couldn’t get away, down the other side of the mountain to Alderport or anywhere else. She had no escape. “What choice do I have?”

“I’ll follow you back to the resort.” He waited as she turned the hatchback and pulled onto the two-lane country road.

Cole pounded a fist into the other palm. Damn! Yesterday when she’d railed at him, life had sparkled in her eyes and pushed away the fear. Now he saw only fear.

Grimacing, he rolled his shoulders. He didn’t need much sleep, but too much rough duty had taken its toll. His bones and muscles objected big time to the outdoor stakeout. Otherwise, duty in DARK challenged him, satisfied him and made him who he was now. Made him who he needed to be, not a biker bum, like his old man had always said.

You’ll never do more’n scrape up enough to buy the next pint,
his father had raved at him.
You’ll be lucky to keep working at that cycle shop. You’re just like me.

No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t be. He’d escaped that fate in spite of his old man’s booze and abuse. This op was another brick in building his life.

Except for the general’s devious U-turn.

Cole had gotten his contact officer to check with Nolan on Laura’s refusal to budge. This morning the contact said Nolan was happy as a Maine clam at high tide that she stay put. The safe house was no longer part of the plan. They could work out something.

The
something
was a trap, with Laura as bait.

Cole might have a bone to pick with her, but he couldn’t condone staking her out like the poor damn goat fed to T-Rex in
Jurassic Park
.