Silent Pursuit (8 page)

She hated to admit he was right. Qualified and willing, he could do a much better job of catching the bad guys than she. And yet, she knew that for however long it took to figure out what Mario had been involved in and catch the people after her, she'd be right in Ian's back pocket. No way was she going to just sit meekly in a hotel room, waiting for someone to come through the door shooting. And she sure couldn't go home and put her family in danger.

“All right, but I'm sticking with you, okay?”

He raised a brow. “We'll see. Now let's find a place to change.”

 

Ian didn't know how much of Gina's “closeness” his heart would be able to handle. On the other hand, he couldn't deny he wanted to be near her. And yet, if the gunmen returned—and he had almost no doubt that they would—he didn't want her in the line of fire.

Looking at the stubborn set of her jaw, he figured he might have to get creative on that end.

Impatience clawed at him. They needed to get out of here, out of the open. He felt exposed, yet they couldn't leave just yet. Mac wanted to see the crime scene, and Ian needed to see Mac. The man was bringing him more gear and information on Mario's cases, and Ian wasn't leaving without that stuff.

A car pulled up and a face from the past materialized before him. Mackenzie Gold climbed out of his black F-150 pickup truck. The years hadn't been good to the man, who now sported a full head of gray hair and more wrinkles than a pug, but he hadn't lost his rigid military bearing or piercing
green eyes. Ian stepped out of the shadows and held out a hand. “Thank you for coming out, sir.”

“You're still one of my men, Masterson, transfer or no.” He looked around, uneasiness reflected on his face. “Let's move over toward the car. I want to see it.” His eyes flicked up the road and back. “But let's make this quick. I don't like being out in the open like this.” He ushered them back over to the mangled car, where the crime scene unit was already working. “Roadblocks are set up so no one uses this road until we're done. Hello, Gina.” He gestured toward Gina as he handed over the bag to Ian.

“Mac.” She eyed him and gave him a tight smile.

The commanding officer turned his attention back to Ian. “Here's the folder with everything I could dig up on Mario.” He handed him a flash drive. “More information I copied. Some of this is classified.” He shot Ian a ferocious look. “Destroy that when you're done with it, and if you get caught with it, you didn't get it from me.”

Ian nodded his thanks and pocketed the drive. He stuck the folder under his armpit and said, “I don't know what Mario was doing, but we're going to find out.”

Gina spoke up, “It seems like Mario had something the men who did this want and they think I've got it.”

“Do you?”

“That's the problem. I don't know, but we're figuring that out.”

“What do you have?”

Ian intervened. “Unfortunately, she doesn't have a clue what they could be after. I've left out a few details in my report to the cops. I'd appreciate it if you'd go along with it if anyone asks. Now we're getting out of here. I don't know where those guys are, but I want to put some distance between us and them.”

“You got it.” He pierced Ian with those direct eyes. “Keep me updated. I can't help you if you leave me in the dark. I'll do the same for you.”

“Absolutely, sir.”

The sound of a revving engine captured his attention, and he swung his gaze around to the long stretch of road. Headlights appeared and he stepped in front of Gina, his adrenaline once again shooting skyward. There weren't supposed to be any cars on this road. Could it be the guys handling the roadblock?

No, they would have radioed ahead.

Mac stopped his trek back toward his truck and turned to stare at the approaching vehicle. When it passed under a street lamp, Ian caught a glimpse of something hanging out the window.

“Gun!” he yelled.

Heart pounding, he pulled his weapon and grabbed Gina's arm to propel her toward the cover of a van parked in the next-door parking lot.

She let out a scream and stumbled with him, slamming her body up against the vehicle just in time. A rat-a-tat sounded, bullets pinging left and right. Ian saw Mac dive for cover. A member of the CSU team hauled himself the rest of the way inside the car he'd been processing. Everyone else hit the ground.

Gun ready, Ian swung around the side of the van as the vehicle roared past. He pulled the trigger as fast as his finger would move.

More bullets sprayed the air around him in retaliation and he ducked, covering Gina with his body. His mind registered the thudding of the bullets hitting the van.

Grabbing her hand, he yanked her to her feet and shot his
former CO a look. The man's face had become granite, his G36 palmed and aimed, ready to do more damage. Mac looked over at Ian, and Ian signaled he'd be in touch.

Then he pulled Gina after him.

“How far can you run?” he shouted at her.

“As far as I have to.”

G
ina ran like the wind. One shoe flew off, but there was no time to stop and get it. Ian kept up a good pace and she stayed right with him, ignoring the occasional rock that bit into her tender flesh. She didn't want to think about what she might possibly step on. That didn't scare her nearly as much as the guys with guns.

Dodging cars and trash bins and the occasional late-night pedestrian, she flew along the sidewalk. Ian had dropped his grip on her hand, but she could hear him pounding behind her.

“Where am I going?” she shouted over her shoulder after they'd already run quite a way.

“Head to the hotel about half a mile ahead.”

Half a mile. She could do that.

She saw the sign and energy surged within her. Hair whipping around her face, she aimed for the hotel. A sharp pain suddenly sliced her foot and she stumbled, would have gone down had Ian not reached out and grabbed her arm. He stopped, looked down, then swept her up into his arms.

She squawked, “What are you doing?”

“You're bleeding.” His words sounded normal. He wasn't even winded after their crazy run.

And he had no trouble holding her securely against him.
“Bleeding?” Startled, she tried to see her foot, but he held her firm. “I am?”

“You must have stepped on a piece of glass back there. Come on, let's get inside and get that taken care of. What happened to your shoe?”

“I guess they were a little big. I lost it back there somewhere.”

Shouldering his way into the hotel, he set her in the nearest chair and approached the desk. “I need a room, please.” He fished out a fistful of cash and handed it over to the clerk. The thin man, who looked barely out of middle school, took the money and gave Ian a key.

Ian looked at Gina. He must have noticed her flustered expression because he said, “We're not staying the night, just long enough to get your foot cleaned up and some
more
necessary items delivered. Let me make a quick call and we'll take care of your foot.”

“Okay.” Several areas on her fatigued body throbbed with pain: her knee, an elbow and the bottom of her foot.

He got on the phone and she grimaced as she shifted on the vinyl-covered chair. The adrenaline high that she'd been on ebbed and her lids drooped. In spite of the danger she knew lurked behind the corner, she thought she might fall asleep right in that chair.

So she distracted herself by watching Ian pace and talk. Again, another surge of unexpected attraction for this man thudded her heart and caused her to blink.

She remembered the feeling of being carried in Ian's muscular arms. The man was huge compared with Mario, who'd been wiry and strong in his own right, but Ian's build dwarfed both of them. And he made her feel safe.

Even though she knew the men who were after her were
still out there, just having Ian close by dissipated some of her terror.

Some.

“All right, let's go.” He stooped and scooped. Flinging her arms around his neck, she found herself face-to-face, practically lip-to-lip, with this extremely intriguing man. Uncertainty flooded through her as he stared down at her and she offered him a trembling smile.

He blinked, then turned on his heel to head down the hall to the room. He talked as he carried her. “I think we'll be okay here for a short period of time. We're not too far from where the shooting occurred, so there are cops everywhere, which will cause whoever's after us to think twice about hanging around. Mac will cover for us and take care of the legal stuff at the scene while we figure out how to keep you safe.”

She watched his lips move as he talked. He'd almost kissed her back there in the lobby—she was sure of it. Butterflies attacked her stomach and she shivered. What had he been talking about? Her fatigued brain had just about reached capacity today.

He pulled her closer and said, “You're freezing.”

Gina didn't bother to tell him he'd misinterpreted her shudder and that she was more than warm.

“Here's the room.” Slowly, he lowered her to the floor, where she stood on her uninjured foot.

“Did I leave a trail of blood behind?”

“No, I was watching for that. The wound must be clotted, but you still need to clean it out.” He pulled the key out of his shirt pocket and inserted it. The door swung in.

“Great.” She sighed. Not exactly how she pictured her night playing out.

“Sorry.”

And she could see sympathy shining in his eyes. He reached out to pick her up once more, but she held out a hand to stop him. “I can walk.”

“Does your foot hurt?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then no need.” Once again, he scooped. She sputtered, then relaxed. Amusement danced in his suddenly unguarded eyes and Gina sucked in a breath. Wow.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” she asked.

A chuckle escaped him. “Kinda.” Then he turned serious. “I'm not manhandling you, I promise. I just want to make sure there's not anything like glass embedded in there. You don't want to walk on it and shove it in deeper.”

“Good point.”

 

Carrying her just inside the room, he pushed the door shut with a foot. Then he set her on the edge of the bed while reaching behind him to pull up the desk chair.

“Let me see.”

Without a word, she acquiesced.

Tenderly, he held her foot as he examined the wound. “I'm going to have to clean this up. Hang on.”

Walking over to the sink, he grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in warm water. She watched him wring the cloth out and thought how comfortable he appeared. Mario always seemed to be moving, and when he did, it was with such energy and flamboyance that being with him for extended periods of time tended to exhaust her.

And yet, she'd loved him.

Ian returned with the washcloth and began cleaning. She flinched at the sting but didn't pull away.

“I know this hurts, but you don't want it to get infected.”

Through gritted teeth, she said, “I'm fine.”

He glanced up at her. “Uh-huh. It's actually not that bad. You should be able to walk on it.”

“Like I said, I'm fine. How much time do we have before we need to get out of here?”

“Probably a couple of hours. I'll call Mac when I'm done with your foot and see where they are. I'll also have Jase deliver us another car.”

“Tell him to make it a bulletproof one,” she muttered.

A hint of humor flashed in his eyes. “Right. Keep up the good attitude—you're going to need it. We might be on the run for a couple of weeks.”

“Couple of weeks!” She sat straight up, wincing as the pain in her foot bit at her.

Unfazed by her outburst, he simply looked up and said, “Yep. Now hold still. There's a piece of glass in there, I think.”

She flopped back and sighed—then yelped and sat straight up. “Hey!”

He held up a small sliver of glass and said, “Now you should start feeling better. When was your last tetanus shot?”

“Two years ago when I sliced my hand on a rusty nail.”

“Good. That's one thing we don't have to worry about. When Jase gets here, he'll have a first-aid kit on him. I'll bandage it up and we'll be good to go.”

“I hope you told him to bring me a pair of sneakers.”

 

Jase brought the car. Ian gave it a thorough examination finding it to be clean of any tracking devices. One more lightning-fast stop found Gina a pair of comfortable shoes that fit, since Jase had neglected to bring that necessary item.

Then they were on their way back up the road, retracing
their steps. Ian drove past the area they'd just run from a couple of hours earlier. The roadblocks had been removed, as had most of the evidence that there'd been a shooting.

“The car's gone.”

Ian nodded. “They took it back to the lab. Mac texted me. They found a tracking device on the inside of the hubcap. That's how they found us so fast. He also said that two of the officers who set up the roadblock are dead.”

Gina gasped and felt tears fill her eyes. “Oh, no. I'm so sorry.”

His hand covered hers. “It's not your fault, Gina.”

“But…”

“But nothing. It's not your fault.”

She drew in a ragged breath and whispered a prayer for the men's families.
Oh, Lord, what have I gotten myself into? What has Mario gotten me into?

Blinking back tears of grief for two men she didn't know, she blew out a sigh. Determination hardened her jaw. “All right, now we have even more reason to find out what's going on and who's involved. Where to now?”

“Back to the beach house? We need to see if we can find some financial papers or statements. Anything that will tell us which banks to start with. And we need to match that key up to a safe-deposit box. I really think that's going to tell us a lot.”

She thought about that for a brief second, then shook her head. “No. He wouldn't have that kind of stuff there. That house was his haven, his escape from the real world. Financial records and stuff? That equaled work.” She shot Ian a glance. “I guess we need to go back to where all this started. With me, in Spartanburg.”

Without hesitation, Ian made his way to the exit that
would lead them away from the beach and west toward Spartanburg.

Weariness clawed at her, and she leaned her head back against the seat. A warm hand covered hers, and she opened her eyes to see Ian looking at her. The expression on his face did strange things to her stomach, things that Mario's looks had never elicited. Guilt overtook her.

With what she hoped was a subtle move, she shifted, withdrawing her hand from his.

His eyes shuttered, and he focused on the dark road before them. So much for subtlety.

He said, “Why don't you try to get some sleep? It's about a four-hour drive. I'll wake you when we get there.”

“Where's there?”

“Good question.” He lifted a brow at her. “Your parents?”

“No way. I don't want to lead these guys to them.”

“You're right about that. How about Joseph?”

She paused, thinking about it, then nodded. “I guess it's going to have to be him.”

“Joseph is FBI and Catelyn is a homicide detective with the force. I agree that might be the best place to stay.”

She paused and looked at him. “How did you know about Catelyn?”

He blinked. “I did my homework when you called. I never go into a mission without a thorough briefing.”

“All right. Give me your phone and I'll see if that's okay with them.”

Ian handed over his phone and Gina punched in the number. Joseph answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hi, Joseph, it's me.”

“Gina, are you all right?” Joseph's burst of words nearly deafened her, and she pulled the phone from her ear. He
demanded, “What's going on? Any progress on the case? Is Ian with you?”

“We're on the way back to Spartanburg. Yes, some progress. Yes, Ian is with me. Now hush.”

“Sorry.”

“I really don't want to go back to my house—yet. Could we stay with you?”

Without hesitation, he said, “Absolutely, I'll tell Catelyn to expect you. She's working a case right now on the other side of town, but we've got plenty of room. You know that—you sold us the house. Ian can use the small efficiency apartment across the drive, and you can have the guest room.”

Relief flooded her. She hadn't realized how stressed she'd been about the thought of returning to her home. Although she knew she'd have to face it soon, she also knew it wouldn't be pretty.

“Thanks, Joseph. See you soon.”

She handed the phone back to Ian. He slipped it into the cup holder. “Go ahead,” he told her. “Get some rest.”

“What about you?”

“I'll get some when I know you're safe and we've found who's after you.”

She stilled, reading the concern in his eyes, the determination to get to the bottom of all of this. An unexpected lump formed in her throat. Why was his leaving the unit considered so awful? What had Ian done to enrage Mario so? How could she believe that he'd done something to betray them?

She couldn't.

And yet, the facts were there. He'd left at a critical time. They'd just finished a successful mission. Morale was high, emotion flowing. And he'd asked to be reassigned. Why?

But she wouldn't ask him again.

And he wasn't volunteering the information. So why did Mario trust him, tell her to go to Ian when she was in trouble? There must be some reason. A strong reason.