Game of Fear (4 page)

The frown on Deb’s lips made Gabe’s brow furrow.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she said, ending the call. She looked up at him, her eyes full of regret. “I have to go. My sister needs me.”

Gabe didn’t try to stop her. Family came first. Always. He nodded.

She cocked her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow night? The usual bar stool?”

“I’ll bring a hot dog. On the house. No arguments.” He paused, wanting to reach for her, to touch her again. He couldn’t. The worst part of wanting Deb wasn’t the need to touch her. It was wanting to dig into why she drove herself, why she took those chances. Why she’d risked her life tonight.

He didn’t just want Deb physically; he wanted to know her, inside and out. A dangerous combination.

He sidled around her and opened the door.

“No gratitude, right?” She slowly brushed against him as she walked past.

At her touch, a long, slow breath escaped from him. “Agreed.”

Halfway out the door, she looked over her shoulder, her expression pensive. “You surprised me tonight, Gabe Montgomery. It doesn’t happen often.”

She disappeared out the door and Gabe let out a long, slow breath. Too bad he liked Deb Lansing so much. Once he knew it was safe, he’d take Hawk’s advice, because he knew one thing. Women like Deb Lansing didn’t cross his path often, and he’d love to know if her bold spirit translated from the chopper to the bedroom.

But until he brought the sheriff and Gasmerati down, he had to find a way to keep his distance.

The solid wood desk dominated the office. Custom made in Italy, the finest money could buy, every item in this room let visitors know Jeff Gasmerati meant business. Deadly business. And no mistakes.

He leaned back in his chair and studied his latest acquisition. The Monet had disappeared during the Nazi’s occupation of France. Jeff had paid a premier price. Something the world didn’t even know existed.

He liked the feeling.

Just staring at the impressionist’s masterpiece eased the tension at the base of his neck. He had one very big problem, but if his latest plans moved forward—as he fully expected them to—soon he’d make the syndicate his father had built look like a mom-and-pop shop.

Right now, though, his biggest headache was the cops and the press, particularly Luke Montgomery.

The phone rang and Jeff glanced at the caller’s identity. Speaking of law enforcement. He gritted his teeth. “This line is off-limits to you.”

“We have trouble. I just received news over the wire. A car’s been found.” Sheriff Tower’s voice lowered to an urgent whisper. “Near Taos. A chopper pilot spotted it during a rescue. I recognized the location. It’s them. The boys from . . . before.”

Jeff drummed his fingertips on the mahogany desk. “We
knew it would happen eventually. Eight years is a long time. Peo
ple forget.”

“What if someone puts it together with the girl’s death? It’s a risk. To both of us.”

Jeff squeezed the phone. Tower was becoming a liability. “Make sure we have someone on the ground as they investigate. Let me know if concerns crop up.”

“New Mexico’s not my jurisdiction. I can’t just—”

“It is now,
Sheriff
Tower. Figure it out. If evidence needs to disappear, make it happen. This is not the time for complications. Your son’s poor judgment nearly cost us everything. You get me?”

The phone went silent. “I’ll find a way,” Tower finally groused.

“You’ve been given a cushy gig, Sheriff. Don’t screw it up. I can take your position away as easily as I handed it to you. And your vices . . . well, let’s just say you haven’t learned from your son’s death. A hundred grand in the last month comes to mind.”

“I said I’ll do it.”

Jeff walked over to the antique Waterford decanter and poured himself a snifter of cognac. “I suggest checking on Gabe Montgomery and Whitney Blackstone as well. It’s been eight years since that night. Neither of them is young and foolish anymore. They could cause problems if they recognize the connection with Shannon Devlin.” He took a sip. Very smooth. “And, Tower, I won’t tolerate further mistakes. There are plenty of men in your department who would step in if you met with an unfortunate accident.”

CHAPTER TWO

D
EB PULLED HER
car up to
her apartment building and touched her lips. Gabe hadn’t kissed her, but when he’d linked his fingers through hers, a shiver had traveled down her back, settling low in her gut. If Ashley hadn’t called, Deb would be at the bar with Gabe right now, exploring feelings that made her very nervous. Which shocked her. If most men had tried to tell her how to do her job, she’d have kicked them hard enough to disable the guy’s ability to pass on his genes. But then she’d recognized something in Gabe’s eyes, an emotion she hadn’t seen in a very long time. Concern. For her. In that instant, the high of finding those kids coupled with the months of ogling Gabe had cracked through defenses she’d built since her first day at boot camp.

She grabbed her bag from the car and trudged up the three flights of stairs. She should admit the truth, she wanted more than friendly flirting from Gabe. She got the physical attraction. That dark hair and those chocolate eyes made most of the women who came into Sammy’s drool. That didn’t touch Deb, though. What tempted her was that something extra she’d witnessed. Like how he made certain anyone who’d tied one on had a ride home. Or the times she’d caught him giving food out the back to someone in need. Or the easy camaraderie he shared with his brothers when they stopped in.

In her experience, more often than not the best-looking men were also the biggest jerks. Gabe seemed to be the exception. Which in itself scared the hell out of her.

Finally reaching the landing, Deb slipped her key into the lock. Ashley better have a good reason for being here and not at her Air Force Academy dorm where she belonged.

Deb shoved the door open. Her sister jumped up from the beige corduroy couch like a gun had exploded in her ear. The textbook vaulted from her hand landing five feet away.

“Easy, girl. It’s just me.”

“Thank God.” Ashley shoved her blonde hair behind one ear, her movements edgy.

This wasn’t like her sister. Deb hurried over to the sofa and tossed her rucksack into a corner. “What’s going on? And please tell me you didn’t take a bus from Colorado Springs.”

“Of course not. I . . . just . . . I really needed to talk to you so I borrowed an upperclassman’s car. He’s flunking math. I traded tutoring time for the use of his ride for a few hours. I promised to get the car back before curfew. It’s such a pain that first-year cadets can’t have their own vehicles.” Ashley relaxed a little. “Where were you?”

Okay, mentioning her celebratory foray to the bar wasn’t happening. “Rescue flight. A church bus full of teenagers hit black ice going around a curve. Medevac choppers were called in from all over to find them, but it gets dark so early, we didn’t have much daylight to look.”

“You found them.”

“Yeah,” Deb sighed. “Finally.”

“No, I mean you’re the one who found them, aren’t you?”

Deb shifted on the sofa. “It was a team effort.”

Ashley crossed her arms in front of her and glared at Deb with that all-knowing teenage look.

“Okay, yeah, I spotted the bus first, and then everyone kicked into gear. We airlifted the worst of the wounded out to the ambulances standing by, and the ground troops had to take over due to the lack of light and rugged terrain.”

“I don’t know why you don’t just take the credit. I bet you loved flying that mission,” Ashley said.

“Okay, quit it.” Deb threw a pillow at her sister’s head. “Come on, Ashley, why are you here?”

Ashley snagged the pillow in midair, then hugged it close. “Something really weird’s been going on. Someone’s following me. Plus, I keep getting these strange phone calls and hang ups. I swear someone else is on the phone, listening, while I talk to my friends.”

“
While
you’re on the phone?”

Ashley frowned. “I hear these strange clicks and stuff. Sometimes there’s an echo. Really faint, but enough to make me suspicious. God, listen to me. I sound as paranoid as Dad. Maybe it’s the NSA skulking around again. Or the military. I realize that I’m attending the Air Force Academy, but would the school tap its students’ phones like that?”

“Anything’s possible, I guess. If the General had his way, he’d have bugged every room and phone line we ever went near.” Deb tried to make light of the situation, but her stomach fluttered a bit at Ashley’s words.

“Yeah, well, Dad’s a psychotic, overprotective idiot. How they let him stay in the Army this long, I don’t know. He’s scary.”

Deb laughed. “And that’s exactly why they’ve kept him around so long. His paranoia has paid off too many times. Everyone hates him, but nobody bucks him . . . except you. You pissed him off royally by picking the Air Force.”

“Big deal. So I didn’t hold up the Lansing tradition of going into the Army, like you, Ben, and Rick. All following in Daddy’s footsteps, like good little children.”

“Brat. Respect your elders.” Deb crossed her legs and faced her sister. “Besides, I’m a civilian now.”

“Yeah, I know, and it’s all my fault you’re not out there flying those helicopters every day. I can’t believe I need someone to act as my legal guardian here while I go to the Academy.”

“Yeah, being a sixteen-and-a-half-year-old genius is tough. Imagine being tapped by the government for your code-breaking skills. You poor, deprived child.”

“It was either that or go to jail after I hacked into the NSA to give them a taste of their own medicine.”

“Don’t remind me. I had the FBI at my door. And not for a security clearance interview.” Deb sat up straight and stared down her sister. “You and your new buddies aren’t screwing around with that stuff anymore, are you?”

“Would I do that?” Ashley batted her eyes, but Deb just shook her head in dismay. “Seriously, I’m legit. The only thing we’re doing is hacking our way through
Point of Entry
, a video game that gives bored little brainiacs like us a legal way to hone our skills.”

“Ashley, you’re not still playing that stupid game, are you?”

“There’s nothing stupid about P.O.E. We just broke through to Level 88, and it took more brain cells than all my Academy courses combined. Justin and Mylo were talking about going out to celebrate since they helped me break the last codes. It’s fun working with a team instead of staring at the screen alone in my room.”

Deb stood and walked into the kitchen. She poured a glass of orange juice and took a sip, studying her sister across the bar. She searched for the right words, but she just had to say it. “I’d still feel a lot better if you weren’t doing anything that remotely resembled hacking. Especially with Justin. You two came too close to getting locked up.”

“My advisor gave me the latest version of P.O.E.,” Ashley protested. “He said, with my background, I might enjoy the challenge. Lighten up. It’s only a video game, after all. Besides, I’m tired of being the too-smart-for-other-kids-to-do-normal-things-with geek. I want to be normal.”

“It’s a game where you pretend to break into banks, follow money trails, plant evidence on computers, and take down governments.”

“And catch the bad guys,” Ashley added. “It’s harmless fun. The guys like the shoot-’em-up, and I like the math and computer stuff. Besides, if I go into Intelligence—like the Academy counselors seem to think I should—I’ll need the practice. I have to be able to think like the bad guys.”

Why couldn’t her sister be like other kids? Deb placed her empty glass in the sink and foraged for a handful of granola. “Well, behave yourself. Your imagination is a little too creative sometimes, and the morals depicted in those games are questionable at best.” Deb tempered her tone, knowing she’d get nowhere with Ashley. “I have enough to worry about with everyone in the family deployed to the Middle East right now. I don’t need you in jail, too.”

Ashley saluted. “Yes, ma’am. Orders duly noted. Pretend games only. Maintain my integrity. Got it covered,
Admiral
Lansing.”

Deb laughed at the nickname Ashley had stuck her with. So she was bossy where her little sister was concerned. Ashley’s moniker for her might have been General Lansing, but their father had already laid claim to that title. Deb hadn’t stayed in the Army long enough to give him any real competition for the rank.

She took in the impish look on her sister’s face. “You’re lucky I love you, brat, because you are truly a wiseass. That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble someday.”

“That’s not what Justin says.” Ashley batted her eyelashes and smiled.

“Great. Now I have something else to worry about.” Deb glanced at her watch. “You have school in the morning and I don’t like you traveling the roads this late at night, even if it is interstate most of the way. Why don’t you stay over and leave early in the morning? I’ll call in for you.”

Ashley shook her head with a sigh. “I promised the guy I’d get his car back before weekend curfew and I’m really going to have to push it to make it.” She collected her books and slipped them into her backpack. “Besides, I’ve been trying to reach Justin by phone all day with no luck. His cell service is terrible. It’s so spotty, half the time I can’t get him unless he’s in an empty field pointing his phone at the tower. I want to give him another call when I get back to school.”

Deb walked Ashley to the door. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine. I . . . I needed to tell someone. Things feel a tad
off
, I guess.”

“Let me know if you get any more hang ups or anything else weird happens. I worry about you. Justin and Mylo’s info is in the address book in case you’re off campus. Right?”

“Yes,
Admiral
, everything’s there, along with all the school numbers, my roommate’s cell, etcetera. Talk about an overreaction. You are so anal sometimes.”

“Hey, pipsqueak. You’re the one who got antsy. And you’re not the easiest person to keep track of, you know. I like to have every contingency covered.”

Ashley buttoned up her coat and arranged her scarf around her neck. “Look, the phone stuff is probably nothing. Besides, I’m almost seventeen. I’m invincible, remember?”

“The kids I transported to the hospital today thought so, too. Humor me and be careful.”

“Yes,
mother
. I love you, too.”

Deb rolled her eyes. “Go. You’re driving me nuts. And be safe.”

Ashley hugged her, and Deb held her sister tight. She was going to be an amazing woman someday. Scary amazing, actually. Emotion clogged Deb’s throat. The truth was, she’d been a surrogate parent to Ashley ever since their mother had died of cancer when the little girl was only five, and the General had walled the whole family out in his grief. The protective maternal role was hard to give up.

Deb watched Ashley until she drove away, closed the door, and walked back into the empty apartment. A tremor of foreboding ripped through her. It almost felt like a premonition, like that feeling she got in Afghanistan when everything was about to go to hell. She raced to the door to tell her sister to come back, but the taillights had disappeared down the road.

She should call her sister’s phone and insist she spend the night, despite the need to get the car back to her classmate—

No. Deb cursed and shut the door. She was being ridiculous. Nothing was going to happen. She’d text Ashley tomorrow and reassure herself that she’d worried all night for nothing.

N
o cars clogged the normally congested I-25 south toward Colorado Springs. The moon hung high overhead, the air cool and crisp. The smell of snow was in the air. Ashley couldn’t wait for a school break so she could teach Justin to ski. He’d look so good in ski pants.

She turned up the radio and flicked through stations when an electronic beep sounded in the car. What the heck?

She looked down at the dashboard, her focus finally settling on the warning light. No way. A near-empty gas gauge? She’d filled up just before she went to Deb’s apartment. Someone must have siphoned off most of the tank while she was visiting her sister. She gritted her teeth. Perfect ending to a screwed-up weekend.

It didn’t help she’d had the creepy crawlies up and down her back throughout the whole drive. Talk about paranoid. She could have sworn someone was watching her, but she never even saw headlights in the rearview mirror most of the last ten miles.

Get a grip, Ashley, or you’ll turn into Dad.

Her father thought she was a helpless idiot. She wasn’t. Her sister had taught her how to handle herself in any situation. She had a 170 IQ, for heaven’s sake. Even at sixteen, the workload at the Academy didn’t challenge her that much. She glanced around, trying to place where she was. After so many trips to her sister’s house, she’d memorized most every exit, and that dumpy all-night gas station was coming up soon. She’d have to stop even though they sold the equivalent of camel piss as high-octane fuel. Extremely high-priced camel piss, at that.

Over the next hill, she saw the sign for the service station, the lights a beacon in the dark. At least she wouldn’t have to call Deb to tell her what an idiot she’d been not to have checked the gas gauge before leaving Denver.