Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #2 (46 page)

EIGHT

“W
e'll have to search all the storage areas for any missing toilet bowl cleaner, insecticide or bath products containing sulfur,” Shaun said into the phone receiver. Lexie could barely make sense of his words through the buzzing in her ears, but she willed herself to focus. She swallowed hard at the memory of their closeness in the library. She should never have allowed him that close—she should have run at the first sign of weakness. But he'd touched her hand with such tenderness as she'd woken up...and while she'd never in a million years have dreamed that she could feel any kind of affection toward Shaun, she'd be lying to herself if she said she regretted having recrossed paths.

Still, she needed to avoid any future library-like incidents, despite these ridiculous feelings. What would happen if he ever did kiss her? Not that she wanted him to, of course. Why give him the chance to break a second Reilly's heart? She scrunched her eyes shut, unable to escape that destructive train of thought. It only proved how wrong he was for her.

She sucked as much air into her still-burning lungs as possible, centering her attention on Shaun's words. “Lexie and I will take the lower decks and you guys stay up here near the passengers. It's going to be awfully suspicious if a passenger sees us pawing through broom closets, so better that we stay in the areas with less foot traffic.”

Shaun hung up and returned to her gurney, hopping up to sit with his legs dangling over the edge. “The nurse asked you to lie down while I was on the phone. It wouldn't hurt to take her advice.”

Lexie leaned against the makeshift bed, glad for the rest, but frustrated by the feeling of weakness. “What's a little gassing now and again? I'll be fine. What'd you and the guys decide?”

He didn't take her diversion bait. “It's all right to admit you need a break once in a while, Lexie. That's not weakness. Admitting the need to slow down takes more strength than it does to keep going, at times. I speak from experience.”

In her heart, she knew he made a good point, but in her head? Slowing meant time lost, and time lost meant more opportunity for someone to get hurt. “I'm coming with you on your search, Shaun. I can rest when we've got everything figured out.”

A knock outside the door diverted their attention, and Parsons strode in with a key dangling between his fingers. “Here you are, kids. This should get you into most locked places. Storage rooms are clearly marked, but there are a few maps of ship schematics near the lower stairwells. We put 'em up as part of evacuation prep protocol a few years ago. Guess they'll finally come in handy.”

“Great. Stay in contact.” Shaun took the key and slipped it into his pocket, patting the walkie-talkie on his belt with an index finger. “You adjusted this, right?”

Parsons nodded. “Should work just fine. Not sure what the problem was earlier, but you shouldn't have any more trouble with that critter. Watch your back, eh?”

“Always.” Shaun turned his attention back to Lexie as the head of security left the room. “Ready to move out? You can still change your mind. Whoever set the gas in the library is still out there, and they may try again.”

“And I say, you can remind me about the danger all you want, but it's not going to change my mind.” She reached back to adjust her hair clip, pulling more of her midlength brown locks up off her shoulders. “There's never a good enough reason to give up on finding someone. No matter how long it takes.”

Lexie couldn't read the look Shaun gave her, but she didn't have time to think it over—he pulled an object from his pocket and handed it to her.

“Switchblade,” he said, taking it back from her open palm and flicking it open. He closed it and returned it to her hand. “I grabbed it from my room on the way back from checking out the library for evidence. It's no snazzy gadget, but it might come in handy if you're caught by surprise. Keep it in your pocket or the instep of your shoe, somewhere accessible if you're grabbed.”

Lexie tried to give it back to him. “I've taken plenty of self-defense courses. I don't want to use a weapon, and I'm not sure I can.”

“You can if your life is in danger. Promise me you'll use it.”

As much as she didn't want to accept the blade, having a sharp tool around did make sense. If either of them had had this while they were in the library, they might have been able to unscrew the bolts on the door or slide the blade underneath to cut the tape. “If necessity calls for it, I will use it.”

“Promise?”

He clearly had no intention of letting her out of the room without a promise. Lexie slipped the switchblade into her pocket and patted it. “Promise,” she said, backing toward the door. “But if I have to carry something, I'd prefer a Walther PPK.”

She enjoyed the look of incredulity on his face at her reference to the fictional superspy James Bond's weapon of choice. The surprise morphed into a grin as he hurried after her.

* * *

Lexie followed Shaun in silence from the medical center as they did their best not to wake any sleeping passengers in the surrounding cabins. Most passengers had settled in for the night, though they passed a few bleary-eyed stragglers who looked as though they had no intention of sleeping on an icebound ship. Upon reaching a key-operated maintenance elevator, Shaun pulled Parsons's key from his pocket and called up the car.

The elevator car clanged and creaked as the cables drew it up to their floor. For some reason, the silence between them felt awkward in a way it hadn't before their shared moment in the library. Lexie blamed herself. She couldn't deny there'd been a charge in the air when they'd stood too close together, but admittedly she could have leaped away with less enthusiasm when trouble started. “Are we sure that's safe?”

Shaun grimaced at the screech of the opening doors but showed no sign of being perturbed by their unrequited shelving encounter. Had she read too much into the moment?

And why couldn't she stop thinking about it?

“I'll check it out,” he said, stepping into the small elevator car. The maintenance elevator floor space was only about five feet by five feet, wide enough to fit a broken dishwasher, a medical gurney or a folded cot. Lexie winced as Shaun jumped in place twice. When the car didn't go crashing down into the basement of the ship, he swept a hand across to invite her in. “ After you, Miss Reilly.”

Lexie peered into the elevator, noting its dingy, exposed lightbulb and tarnished handrails. “Remind me again why we have to search the lower decks?”

The corner of Shaun's mouth curled upward and he backed into the far corner of the elevator. “You're welcome to hang out with the captain if you're having second thoughts.”

“Not a chance.” Lexie stepped inside the elevator and flinched at the coldness of the handrail on her warm skin. “If someone wants me out of the way, I'd rather have you nearby than ferry security. No offense to them, but I suspect a superspy is better trained in fending off trouble.”

Shaun punched a few buttons on the control panel and the elevator squealed back to life, dropping a few sudden inches before continuing its descent. “I'm not a superspy, Lexie. Far from it. I'm just a man trying to make the world a better place in the best way I can. I don't always succeed, either.”

She couldn't help it—an unladylike snort escaped as his words sunk in. “Sorry, I'm allergic to clichés.”

“I'm serious.” Shaun looked wounded, but Lexie didn't buy it.

“You're trying to make the world a better place by hiding in the shadows?”

“You call what we're doing right now hiding in the shadows?”

“I call you planning to tackle some ridiculously dangerous trafficking ring on your own without a lick of help ‘hiding in the shadows,' yes. If I hadn't been attacked and you hadn't been there, no one else on board would know and you'd be doing this all alone.”

Shaun widened his stance as the elevator slowed. “Just like you were when you came on board in search of a missing girl, by yourself and unarmed?”

“I didn't anticipate that anyone would be trying to kill me.”

“Now you can see why I might not want to reveal my identity and purpose to just anyone.”

She did see, yes. And it made perfect sense. Why was she trying to antagonize him? No, wrong question. She knew exactly why. Holding on to anger and resentment was so much easier than shifting her perspective, especially when it meant admitting that her sister had lied after all. Because that would mean that Shaun wasn't the villain she'd made him out to be, and that in turn meant she just might be tempted to risk her heart.

* * *

The elevator reached its destination, jerking into place with several high-pitched screeches. As much as Shaun wanted to continue this line of conversation—specifically to find out why she'd suddenly decided to condemn his career choice—the important thing right now was to keep moving. The longer they stayed in one place, the more likely it'd be that their attacker would find and surprise them.
Again.

In Shaun's experience, killers whose plans failed to kill their intended target tended to feel desperate and become unpredictable. While the mantra often cited during training said that desperate people tended to make more mistakes, those mistakes usually came at a cost for everyone involved—perp and victim. Shaun would not let that happen to Lexie. Not today, not ever. But despite having read psych profile after psych profile on the Wolf, the truth was that no one had yet been able to determine a pattern of behavior for the man. He seemed to use whatever resources were available to him, with a whole army of lackeys firmly entrenched across North America and elsewhere to do his dirty work. Whoever the man was, he'd kept his hands clean for too long. Shaun was ready to see them coated in grime.

“There's a storage room to the left, and the engine room to the right. Parsons said there's another storage area in the engine room, mostly with parts and grease, that kind of thing, but we'll check there last since it's going to be the most complicated area to navigate. I'd rather not bother the guys working in there if we don't have to. Our goal is to identify if anything is missing, specifically anything on this list.” He handed Lexie a sticky note listing the ingredients and supplies needed to create and deliver hydrogen sulfide through a tube. “If you see anything strange—a circle in the dust, a cap askew on a jug, anything at all—say something. Two sets of eyes are better than one.”

“Got it.” She managed to get one foot out of the elevator before Shaun grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back inside. She glared at him in annoyance. “What now?”

“Let me take point. I know you don't want to, but humor me on this, okay? I doubt our culprit will be down here, but I'd feel more comfortable playing lookout.” He pressed a hand to his side, an automatic habit to check for the position of his gun. “If I were him, I'd be upstairs trying to blend in with the other passengers.”

Lexie raised her palms in surrender. “Whatever you say, Captain Superdude.”

He winced at the mash-up superhero reference. Far from being the compliment she'd intended, being called a superhero took on an entirely different meaning for Shaun. Being a superhero tended to get people killed, and frankly he couldn't think of a superhero from comics or television who had it all together. Sure, superheroes helped others and saved the world, but they did it while neglecting the needs of the people closest to them. Having two identities made it tough to be there for loved ones while saving the universe from certain destruction.

He'd learned that the hard way. Not a day went by when Shaun didn't wonder if he'd lost the chance for love out of selfish focus on helping others for his own glory. One more corrupt government toppled, three more cancelled dinners. He'd given every part of himself to the cause of national security, and left nothing for the relationships in his life. Eight years after deciding this is what he wanted to do with his life, and he still went home to an empty house after each mission. He'd be lying if he said it didn't get lonely sometimes, but finding the right person who understood the importance of the work he did and how much he believed in it was no easy task.

Besides, after meeting Nikki, Shaun had vowed not to become romantically involved with a woman until he felt capable of balancing his priorities. While he still wasn't certain if he'd grown ready to take a chance on love, he'd be lying to himself if he said that something about Lexie didn't make him want to try.

To do that, he'd need to leave the “superhero” side of himself behind, and focus on being the best agent and protector he could possibly be. If that included putting himself in the potential line of fire, he'd take that risk without hesitation.

“Hello? Earth to the Captain?” Lexie waved a hand in front of his face. “Thought I'd lost you there for a minute.”

“Let's hope it never comes to that.” Shaun pushed past her and peered out of the elevator, checking up and down the hall. “Clear.”

The hallways on the engine room deck were lit by dim yellow caged lightbulbs. Since few people spent time on this deck—aside from working on the engine or performing other mechanical repairs—Shaun recognized the reduced lighting as a cost-saving measure. No passengers had access to this deck, which placed its upkeep low on the list of priorities. As long as all the critical parts of the ship worked, what did some chipped paint and bad lighting matter?

The lack of population on this level, however, made it the perfect place to steal supplies from. Or hide a whole person. The constant rumble of the engine would make it harder to hear someone moving around down here.

They found and searched three storage closets before heading toward the engine room. None of the closets contained anything useful. Shaun noted that Lexie's demeanor became less and less enthusiastic about the search as they went on, but she remained determined. He knew he was falling for that intensity—that fire she'd given him glimpses of. He couldn't deny Lexie's character as a strong, capable woman, but how many times could a person have their life put in danger before they cracked? He'd experienced more than his share of life-threatening moments, but agents had counselors and therapists to talk to after missions. All Lexie had on board was...well, him, and even a strong, capable woman like Lexie could crack under the weight of constant pressure. The more he knew of her, the more of himself he could give to be there for her.