Deadly Contact (17 page)

“Hey,” he said softly, waiting until she met his eyes. “We’re not going to hurt him.”

“What if he makes you?” she asked, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

James handed her a napkin that Thomas had left behind in the cleanup, which earned him a wobbly smile of thanks. “He won’t.”

She shook her head, as if doubting his words. “I thought I knew him,” she said, dabbing her eyes with the napkin. “I never figured him for the kind of person who would do something like this.”

“I understand,” he said. She snorted, and he replied, “No, really, I do. You think you know someone, and it hurts to find out you were wrong about them. It makes you question your judgment, and you start second-guessing yourself.”

Recognition dawned on her face. “That’s exactly it!” she said, sounding relieved. “I’m thinking about all the people I know, wondering what horrible things they’re all capable of.”

“That’ll fade with time,” he assured her. “You probably won’t trust people as easily anymore, but you will get to the point where you’re not always waiting for them to do something bad.”

Her eyes were round as she studied him. “It sounds like you speak from experience,” she observed, her voice soft. “Who betrayed you?”

“What makes you think I’ve been betrayed?”

She merely stared at him, wearing the expression of one who has reached the finish line and is waiting for everyone else to catch up.

He looked at his lap for a moment, then back up at her. “He was a good friend.”

“Want to talk about it?” Her voice was soft, the tone understanding.

He sighed quietly, the corners of his mouth pulling down in a frown. “Before I joined the FBI, I was a D.C. cop for a few years,” he said slowly, feeling his way back into a story he hadn’t told in years. “One of my best friends from high school went through the academy with me. We were so excited—we were going to save the world, that sort of thing.” He laughed, shaking his head. “We were so damn naive.”

“Were you partners after the academy?”

“No. I worked in the gang unit, and he was assigned to narcotics. Our paths did cross, though, as you might expect,” he drawled, arching a brow in her direction. She smiled faintly.

“Quite.”

“Everything was fine for about a year and a half, and then Steve’s demeanor changed completely.”

“How do you mean?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“He went from being a frugal guy—never really bought anything for himself, drove the same car for ten years, that kind of thing—to suddenly spending money like it was going out of style.” Suddenly restless, James grabbed the remote and turned it over and over in his hands.

“I asked him about it,” he said, putting it back on the table. “He said he had to dress the part, or else the dealers would make him for a cop. I didn’t press for details. I think I knew even then that he was dirty, but I didn’t want to confirm it.”

“I can understand that,” Kelly said softly. “If you don’t have proof, you can pretend nothing is wrong.”

“Exactly.” He shook his head. “I remained firmly entrenched in my denial over the next several months, while Steve continued to burn through money. It all came to a head one night in July.”

He told her about their fight, about his refusal to throw away his own career to help out a friend. The way Steve had stormed out, never to be seen again. Looking back on it, there were so many things he would have done differently, but that was the gift—and the curse—of hindsight.

James jerked when a hand landed on his arm. He looked up to find Kelly watching him with knowing eyes. “I know you did the right thing,” she said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, well, I’m not so sure.” He paused, recalling the crime-scene photos of Steve’s body. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “What’s done is done.”

Kelly’s hand was warm on his arm; her thumb moved back and forth with gentle strokes that sent shivers of awareness across his skin. He turned to face her, and the way she was staring at him, her eyes dark and heated, had his mouth going dry and his heart pounding. Then she parted her lips, her pink tongue darting out to leave behind a shiny gloss on her mouth, and he nearly groaned aloud.

Unable to stop himself, he reached out to cup her face and ran his thumb along her bottom lip. She nipped at it, biting him gently, sending a tingle of awareness shooting up his arm and into his belly. She closed her eyes and leaned closer, pressing herself against him and snaking her good arm around his waist.

In the dim recesses of his brain, he heard his conscience telling him to stop. A split second more, and he would have listened to that voice. But then Kelly stretched up and captured his mouth with hers, letting out a little moan of satisfaction that nearly undid him.

She broke the kiss and stood over him, her mouth swollen, her eyes shining. Slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself onto his lap until she was straddling him, her hand clutching his shoulder. He gasped as she settled over his erection. The pleasure of the contact forced his eyes closed. For a moment, he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, and then he became aware of her hot mouth trailing kisses across his neck.

He felt her fumble at his belt buckle.
Yes, yes!
He reached up to grab her shoulders, remembering too late her injury. Her slight gasp brought him back down to earth, and he opened his eyes.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? Did I make it worse?” He fought to steady his breathing as he eyed her shoulder. It didn’t look as if the wound was bleeding again, but he had obviously caused her pain by touching it.

She smiled, pushing a strand of hair off his forehead. “It’s fine.” She leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’m fine.” She moved in again, but he pressed a finger to her mouth, stopping her.

“What are we doing here?” he whispered. It felt so good, so right to have her in his arms again, but if she was going to regret this in the morning, it wasn’t worth it. Then an ugly thought occurred to him, making him suck in a breath.

“Are you doing this because you think you owe me?”

She reared back, almost falling off his lap. He clamped his hands on her hips to keep her in place. “Owe you?” Two pink spots appeared high on her cheeks, and he had the distinct impression that if she’d had a free hand, she would have slapped him. “Do I look like a prostitute to you?”

He definitely knew the correct answer to this question, but the fact that she had asked it did not bode well for him. “No, of course not—” he began.

“I was not going to sleep with you because of any feeling of obligation on my part.” The words were clipped and sharp as she struggled to slide off his lap. With a sigh, he helped her to stand, missing the warmth of her body after she moved away. She glared down at him for a beat before her eyes slid away. The angry set of her mouth relaxed before she spoke, the words almost a whisper. “I just wanted to connect with you, that’s all.”

He blinked up at her in disbelief. “You want to connect with me? I seem to remember you walking away the last time we ‘connected.’”

She winced, and he knew his words had struck a nerve. He felt a prick of guilt at upsetting her, but being so close to her again had dredged up the hurt feelings he still carried from her earlier rejection. It was small of him, but he wanted her to have a taste of that same rejection.

“I made a mistake,” she began, not looking at him. “I see that now.”

He snorted. “A mistake? A mistake is forgetting to put the clothes in the dryer. That’s not what you did. You basically set our friendship on fire and then walked away without looking back.”

“That’s not true—”

“The hell it’s not!” He stood, not wanting to have this conversation while she towered over him. “Not only did you run away, but you refused to return my calls. I could have dealt with it if you didn’t want to keep sleeping together—it would have hurt my feelings, but I would have gotten over it. What killed me was the fact that you cut me out of your life entirely.” His throat tightened at the admission, his emotions threatening to boil over and erupt out of him like an exploding volcano. It was too much, so he turned away and headed for the door.

“Wait.” Her voice stopped him before he could leave the room. “You want to know why I left? I was scared.”

He turned to face her. She stood a few feet away, her chin up and her left fist clenched at her side. She blinked back tears as she met his gaze, and his heart lurched at the sight. “I was afraid, so I took the coward’s way out and ran.”

“What were you scared of?” he asked hoarsely.

She took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for battle. “You.”

He almost laughed. He frightened her? Not possible. He’d never been anything but gentle with her, especially that night. “What did I ever do to scare you? I’ve never hurt you, and I never will.”

She took a step forward, her eyes locked with his. “I know that, but you have to understand.” She paused, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “When I was in graduate school, I had an abusive boyfriend. His name was Gary.” She stopped a foot away, close enough that he could smell the almond soap from her bath. “It’s taken me a long time to get over what he did to me, and after our night together, I was afraid you’d want more. I wasn’t ready for that.”

He swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. It all made horrible sense now.... He thought back to that morning, how she had refused to offer an explanation for leaving, just saying he deserved better. His stomach twisted, threatening to expel his dinner. God, the thought of her being used as a punching bag...He had suspected, but having her confirm it was so much worse. What kind of man did that to a woman? His hands clenched involuntarily at the thought of the faceless Gary who had hurt her. Kelly noticed the gesture and her eyes widened, but she stood her ground.

Cursing himself for scaring her, James forced his hands to relax. “Kelly...” His voice was a croak, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She frowned up at him, her frustration evident. “Because of the look on your face right now. That combination of disgust and pity? I couldn’t bear to have you look at me like that.”

“How am I supposed to look at you?” He ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what she wanted from him. “You tell me you had an abusive boyfriend, and I’m not supposed to be upset?”

“I didn’t want you to think of me as broken.”

He sighed heavily, at a loss for words. She held his gaze for a beat, then looked away. “I don’t think you’re broken,” he began, testing the words out as he spoke. “But I wish you would have told me this before. We could have worked through it together.”

She shook her head firmly. “This was something I had to do on my own. It took me months of therapy to even get to this point.”

He nodded. “I can respect that, but still. You have to know I wouldn’t have pushed you into anything you weren’t ready for.”

She smiled at that, and a spark of hope flared to life in her eyes.

“Well...” she said quietly, dropping her gaze to the floor. “What if I told you... What if I said that...” She raised her head to look at him, her cheeks pink. “I think I’m ready for something more, now, with you.”

He stared down at her, disbelieving. She wanted him now? She’d just revealed a former abusive relationship that she was clearly still getting over, and she wanted to take things to the next level? Impossible. It was the stress of her situation talking, he decided. Near-death experiences often made people horny, he knew, and that was exactly what was happening here. There was no other explanation.

“You don’t want me,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re scared, and you want a distraction. That’s all.”

Her expression morphed from hopeful to angry, her brows drawing together and her lips forming a white line in her already pale face. “You’re wrong,” she bit out. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, James. I know I made a mistake before, but I want to move past it now, with you. You are not a distraction—you’re so much more than that.”

“Tell me this,” he said, holding up a hand to stop her. “If I hadn’t showed up in your lab two days ago, would you have called me? Would you have still wanted to start something new with me?” He waited for her to respond, and when she remained silent, he continued, “That’s what I thought.”

He turned back to the doorway, pausing at the threshold. “You say you’re ready to move on, but you couldn’t even trust me enough to tell me about your past. There is no room for secrets like that in a relationship.”

He walked out before Kelly could respond, his side on fire and his heart heavy.

Chapter 9

K
elly sat on the bed and absently rubbed her shoulder as the light from the window illuminated the room, gradually changing from gray to pink to a warm yellow as the sun rose more fully in the morning sky. She had spent a sleepless night tossing and turning as much as her injury would allow. They would be leaving in a few hours, which meant she still had a good chunk of time to spend alone with her thoughts.

How had it come to this? Not for the first time, she wished for a do-over, to go back and change the outcome of that fateful night, when their friendship had changed forever. Her heart ached when she recalled the look on James’s face as he had explored her body, the way his hands had been both teasing and gentle, their mutual sounds of pleasure. They had shared an extraordinary night, but dawn had brought insecurities and fear, and she had left, hoping to spare herself the pain of exposing her past. She had thought she was making it easier for both of them.

She knew better now.

She rose and paced to the window, her toes digging into the plush carpet. She stood in the sunlight and closed her eyes, hoping the warmth would burn away the memories of last night. James looking at her with an expression of shock and dismay before his face shuttered and he rebuilt the walls to keep her at arm’s length. She should have never kissed him, never given in to her selfish desire for contact. She should have known the truth would only push him further away.

In an ideal world, she would have told him about Gary over dinner, or maybe while snuggling on the couch. He would have asked her questions and held her close as she told him about that painful episode from her past. He would have been supportive and caring, and she would know he really cared for her.

Instead, she had blurted out the truth in the heat of an argument, catching him off guard and making a wreck of things. Then, to top it off, she’d told him she wanted another chance, a statement that had practically sent him running for the door. No one could accuse her of having good timing.

Maybe it’s for the best,
she thought, blinking back tears. It wasn’t as though either of them really had time for a relationship anyway. She worked constantly, and now that George was in such a fine mess, she was going to need a new job. This was the perfect opportunity for her to move away, get a fresh start somewhere. Maybe she could find work in Houston, be closer to her family.

Besides, it was his loss. Despite what he might think, she was ready to move on. She’d thought he was the one, but his actions last night had indicated otherwise. She didn’t need a man who would back down in the face of her past. She deserved a good man, one who would be proud of her strength and the things she had overcome.

But he is a good man.

She couldn’t deny the truth of that thought. James had been by her side since this whole mess with Dr. Collins had started, despite his personal feelings. Given their history, it would have been so easy for him to recuse himself from the investigation, but instead he had jumped right in, putting his own hurts aside to keep her safe.

He took on so much responsibility, she mused, thinking of his reaction to her getting shot, the way he had swept her off to the safety of his apartment rather than risk leaving her in someone else’s care. Maybe he was overreacting a bit, but as he had talked last night she’d seen how the ghost of Steve haunted him still. A chill raced through her at the thought of how close she had come to being another casualty in his life, and she rubbed her hands over the goose bumps on her arms.

Was it any wonder he’d pushed her away? He was probably feeling overwhelmed between the case, seeing her again and the massive amount of guilt he carried around. It was a wonder he hadn’t collapsed yet; the fact that he was still functioning must be due to an excess of sheer stubborn will.

The sound of the shower running down the hall drew her out of her thoughts. James must be awake. She should get cleaned up so they could leave on time. She just had to get through today, and then life could go back to normal.

Whatever that was.

* * *

The water was almost too hot to bear, but James forced himself to stand under the jetting spray until his skin was red and prickly with pain. He usually preferred a more temperate shower, but this morning he wanted the distraction. Better to focus on the physical discomfort than spend another minute thinking about Kelly and how badly things had ended between them last night.

How had this situation gotten so messed up? She’d made it clear months ago that she didn’t want a physical relationship with him, and, given her history of abuse, he could understand her reluctance. But how was he supposed to believe she’d gotten over her past in the few short months they’d been apart?

I think I’m ready for something more, now, with you.
He rubbed gritty eyes and reached for the soap, lathering his body with efficient movements. Her words had haunted him all night, and he still didn’t know what to make of them. Was she serious? Did she really want him, or was it the stress of her situation talking? He stepped back under the spray for a moment, grabbed the shampoo and poured out a dollop into his palm.

Once again, her face appeared in his memory, her expression both scared and hopeful as she revealed what had to be a painful secret. It reminded him of Steve and the look on his face when he had asked for help so many years ago. He had turned his friend away then, and the action haunted him to this day. Was he making the same mistake again?

But did they really have a chance? A spark of hope flared to life in his chest, but he wasn’t ready to believe quite yet. Despite her brave words, she was emotionally damaged. A person didn’t go through something like that and come out unscathed. He didn’t want to punish her for her past, but the thought of getting involved with someone so fragile, so...vulnerable made his stomach tighten.

Maybe he was a coward, but he wasn’t sure he could give Kelly the commitment she needed. He knew from his days as a street cop that domestic-abuse victims needed stability and support as they rebuilt their lives. If he got involved with Kelly and he couldn’t handle her issues, he’d never forgive himself for hurting her again.

Tired of being alone with his thoughts, he rinsed the shampoo from his hair and wrenched the faucet to the right, letting the cooler water sluice over his body for a moment before he turned the shower off. He grabbed a towel and quickly dried off with jerky impatience. He had to focus on the job today, find a way to get Kelly out of his mind so he could finish this operation. Distractions would only complicate matters, and he couldn’t afford to have things unravel at this late stage.

His career, and Kelly’s life, depended on it.

* * *

Kelly drew up short as she entered the kitchen. James was standing at the window, his back to the door, phone to his ear. Mentally scolding herself for letting him affect her, she walked over to the counter and dropped two pieces of bread into the toaster, then moved to the fridge and pulled out a Coke.

James glanced over his shoulder at the hiss of the can opening and met her gaze briefly before turning back. His voice was too quiet for her to make out the conversation, but he was probably talking to the FBI about today’s plan.

The toast popped up and she busied herself smearing butter and then strawberry jam across the warm surface. She heard James snap his phone closed, and she turned to put the butter and jam back in the refrigerator, buying herself a few seconds before she had to face him. It was a cowardly thing to do, but she needed the extra time, however brief, to compose herself.

He was standing by her breakfast after she shut the fridge door, eyeing her soda with a faint smile. He looked up as she approached.

“You never did like coffee,” he said softly.

“No. I don’t. Some things never change.”

“Kelly...” His mouth turned down at the corners, and his brows drew together. He looked like a man about to deliver bad news, and she wasn’t in the mood for it this morning.

She held up a hand to stop him. “What’s the plan for today?”

He met her eyes for a beat. When she didn’t look away, he nodded once in acknowledgment of her desire to put yesterday behind them. “That was Carmichael.”

She nodded and took a bite of toast. He set the phone down on the counter next to her plate and retrieved a mug from the cupboard.

“We’re going to rendezvous at headquarters in an hour. We’re going to put a wire on you and give you the vials. Then I’m going to drop you at the Metro station so you can travel to the museum and meet George.” He poured coffee and doctored it with a little sugar before turning back to her.

The toast stuck in her throat, and she took a swig of soda to wash it down. “You’re actually going to give me the vials he wants?”

He shook his head. “No. Not the real ones. Those are safe in our lab. We’re giving you decoys. They’ll look the same, so he shouldn’t suspect anything.”

She nodded, feeling marginally better. “What do I do after I give George his vials?”

“You walk to the information desk, where I’ll be waiting. We’ll walk out together, and I’ll take you to a secure location until we pick up George and Caleb.” He sipped the dark brew, watching her over the rim of the cup. “Simple, really.”

Kelly set down her toast, not really agreeing with his assessment. “Maybe for you,” she muttered. He made it sound so easy, but any number of things could go wrong. What if George didn’t show up? What if he recognized the vials were fake? Would they hurt him when they picked him up? It was hard to feel sorry for the man, but she didn’t want him to get hurt, no matter what he had done.

What if George hurt her? Her stomach twisted as a wave of nausea hit. As far as she knew, he wasn’t a violent person by nature, but desperation could drive a man to do things he normally wouldn’t. She would be an easy target, given her earlier injury. Her shoulder was still too sore to allow for much motion, making her easy pickings if George’s thoughts did indeed turn toward the use of force.

Would James even care if she were injured during this operation? She stole a glance at him from under her lashes. He was staring into his coffee cup with a look of abstract concentration, and she knew he was miles away. Probably mentally rehearsing the upcoming takedown. She envied his ability to turn off his emotions and focus on work, and she wished she could do the same. Her lack of sleep and last night’s argument had left her feeling raw and gritty, and her feelings were too close to the surface to be ignored.

Or maybe...maybe he didn’t have any emotions to turn off where she was concerned. After all, he had walked out and left her standing alone in the middle of the room last night without even a moment’s hesitation. She had shared her darkest secret, laid her heart bare for him, and he had told her that her feelings weren’t real and turned his back. Not exactly the actions of a man who cared about her.

Stop thinking about it,
she chastised herself. Nothing good could come of her mentally rehashing their argument, and it was using up energy she couldn’t afford to burn. Determined to focus on the day ahead, she finished her soda and tossed the empty can into the recycle bin.

First things first—get this meeting over with and then figure out the rest of her life.

“Ready to go?” she asked James, who nodded and drained his coffee cup.

A few more hours, and it would all be over.

* * *

The FBI office was a study in controlled chaos, with agents moving about the room in what looked like a carefully choreographed ballet. One group was standing by a large map, inserting pins and drawing what looked like different routes out of the city. Another group was clustered around a table, and as they walked by, Kelly saw that they were looking at plans of the museum, marking off exits. She watched one man pick up a file folder of papers and walk it over to the other side of the room, typing on his phone all the while. It was a wonder no one crashed into each other, but she supposed they had done this before.

The room had a lived-in look, with empty coffee cups scattered on flat surfaces and the occasional candy-bar wrapper or half-eaten bag of chips punctuating the detritus. The air was stale and warm, and most of the agents were down to their shirtsleeves, their hair mussed and the dark circles under their eyes testifying to the general lack of sleep.

“Don’t these people ever go home?” Kelly muttered under her breath.

James glanced over, and she felt her face flush as she realized he’d heard her. “Not when we’re this close,” he said grimly.

He led her back to the conference room she’d come to hate, and she settled into what she thought of as her chair.

“I’m going to round up the rest of the team,” James said from the doorway. “Will you be all right here for a few minutes?”

He’d been gone for only a few seconds when Agent Carmichael walked into the room, carrying his usual bundle of papers. She stifled a giggle as the image of Linus and his security blanket popped into her head, causing the older man to glance at her with a frown. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No, not at all.” Except for the fact that she was losing her mind. Clearly the stress of the situation, combined with her exhaustion and the pain pills, had put her on edge, and rather than focusing on the very real issues ahead of her, her brain was throwing up cartoon references.
Wonderful.

The rest of the team filed in, and she recognized some of the faces from her interview two days ago. James entered last, shutting the door behind him before taking the seat across the table from her.

Carmichael cleared his throat, drawing the eye of everyone in the room. “Okay, people, this is it. You already know the plan, but we’re going to go over it one last time before heading out. I don’t want any mistakes out there. We’ve already had one close call—” he glared meaningfully at James, who stared impassively back at him “—and we can’t afford another one. I want to wrap this thing up today. Are we clear?”

Heads nodded, and a collective murmur of assent floated up from the table. He turned and fixed Kelly with a gimlet stare, making her want to squirm in her chair. “Are you ready for this?”