Ultimate Prey (Book 3 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series) (18 page)

John considered Vlad’s smothering theory and what little they knew about the man. “I don’t know. It sounds like Vlad might have first-hand experience with murder victims. How? I really don’t care. But I don’t think we should discount what they saw. Or that note.”

Rachel picked up her coffee mug. “Too bad we can’t bring in the police. If we could get an autopsy on Jordan—”

“We wouldn’t have it in time, anyway,” Dante said, then looked to Owen. “You said you contacted Rory. What about the others?”

“While you, Rachel and Hudson were working on old case files, I split Ian’s up between the two of us.” Owen glanced to John. “Looking into Ian’s stash, I found two other cases of interest that involved former CORE agents.”

“Wait, you spoke with Rory?” John asked. Damn, he really should have pounded more coffee to stay awake.

“His number was in one of the files, so I called it. After all these years I figured it would have been disconnected, but Rory still lives in Chicago. He’s currently selling cars at a Honda dealership. He actually tried to talk me into buying an Odyssey.”

How one went from being a CORE agent to a car salesman, John hadn’t a clue. But between Rory and Jordan, they could knock them off the list. “Who were the other two agents?”

“Ben Sheppard and Christopher Mann. Neither lasted long. Sheppard was here for about six months, Mann quit after ten. Based on Ian’s notes, I think Sheppard couldn’t hack the job. Too much pressure and too much travel. Mann left because his wife got a job transfer to Seattle. What about you? Did you find anything?”

Drool on his files. “Sorry, guys,” he said, feeling like a total idiot. “I went to my office to try and reach Terrance Brisbane’s parole officer again, then ended up zonking out for a while. I’ll get to my files now.”

Rachel grinned. “Don’t let Owen fool you. I caught him napping, too.”

“We’re all tired,” Dante said, and John noticed the exhaustion in the other man’s eyes. “If you haven’t grabbed an hour, try to.”

He doubted Ian and Cami had the opportunity to grab an hour of sleep. They had to be exhausted…and scared.

Like caffeine, adrenaline and fear could only sustain a person for so long. He just hoped to God Ian and Cami lasted long enough to be rescued.

Chapter 7

Somewhere in the Everglades, Florida

Thursday, 10:58 a.m. Eastern Standard Time

“THE GRASS IS moving.” Cami motioned toward the right where the one-foot blades shook. “Please lie to me and tell me that’s just the wind.”

“It’s just the wind,” Ian lied, and glanced around to find another avenue they could go. Unfortunately, they had only two options—travel through the sawgrass marsh, or turn back the way they’d come and risk running into the bastard hunting them. Option one didn’t appeal to him, especially because they would be exposed and the marsh was home to deadly animals, like snakes and alligators. Plus, the next set of trees looked to be at least a mile away, if not farther. From where they stood, it was too difficult to gauge and the longer they remained here, the better the chance of the bastard catching up with them.

“Liar,” she said, edging closer to the marsh. “It must’ve rained recently. The grass looks like it’s sitting in a couple of inches of water. I hope the rest of the field isn’t the same.”

He found a thick stick and picked it up. “Sorry, hon, this isn’t like any field you’re used to seeing.” He knocked the blades with the stick. “This also isn’t real grass, it’s called sawgrass and grows
in
the water.”

She looked at him, her eyes wide with anxiety. “Please tell me you’re still lying.”

“I wish I could. But don’t worry about it. I don’t think the water level is too deep, maybe a foot or two at the most in some places. And once we reach the other side, we’ll be back on dry ground.”

“If your definition of dry ground are more of those ugly mangrove trees, we’re in trouble.” She glanced to his feet as she removed her slippers. “How’s the cut on your foot?”

Too bad Cami hadn’t learned how to weave a shoe with leaves and tree bark in one of her
Evil that Lurks
movies. He’d sliced the inner sole of his right foot on one of the many jagged tree roots they’d climbed over. The tender wound hurt, and he worried about infection. “It’s fine.” He took her hand in his, opting for the left one since her broken pinky had doubled in size. “Are you ready to do this?”

“Wait,” she said, removing her hand from his and untying the sash of her robe. “It’s starting to get hot.”

He’d noticed a change in temperature once they’d exited the shade from the mangroves. Now out in the open, the midmorning sun beat down on his back, and he once again wished he’d had the foresight to grab a shirt before leaving their bedroom. But the sun wasn’t the only thing that would mark his skin. “Leave the robe on.”

“Why?”

“I told you sawgrass isn’t real grass. What I didn’t mention is there’s a reason they call it
saw
grass.” He reached into the marsh, tore off a blade, then showed her. “I learned about this the last time I was here.” He pointed to the edge of the blade. “See these tiny ridges? If you’re not careful, they’ll cut you.”

“How bad?” she asked, readjusting her robe.

“Like a paper cut.”

“God, I hate this place.” She took his hand again, then stepped into the marsh. “Explain to me again why you love it here?”

After what they’d already been through, he began to wonder himself. “You can’t see the beauty of this place?”

“It’s been kind of hard to stop and smell the roses. Honestly, I feel like we’ve traveled back in time. The Everglades reminds me of what the world might’ve looked like when the dinosaurs were around. Or, like God didn’t know what to do with a bunch of the plants and animals He made and decided, the hell with it, I’ll just put them right here and see what happens.”

He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “I think it’s the uniqueness that draws me here. It’s raw and beautiful, and unlike anywhere I’ve ever been. When I was here last year, I went for a hike and fell in love with the solitude.”

“You obviously didn’t hike through sawgrass,” she said, knocking a few blades with her elbow. “Is it me, or is this stuff getting taller?”

From where he’d stood on shore, it had looked as if the blades were only three or four feet high toward the center. He’d estimated wrong. The further they moved away from shore the thicker and taller the sawgrass had become, which would make it difficult to see anything moving through the shallow water, but would cloak them, should the bastard reach the shore sooner than he’d anticipated.

“Yeah, it’s getting taller,” he said, using the stick to help them plow through the sawgrass and keep the tips of the blades out of their faces. After a few feet, several blue-gray birds flew from between the grass, cawing and beating their wings.

Cami gasped and jerked back. She held her injured hand to her throat, drawing his attention to the slight chafing from the cord that had held them to the bald cypress tree. “I hope to God we’re the only ones who disturbed those birds and it’s not something else.”

“I’m sure it’s us. I think gators like to stick close to shore near their nests.”

“And you know this how, Crocodile Dundee?” she asked, ducking when several insects he couldn’t name rose from the grass.

“Obviously we’re talking gators, not crocs, and—”

“Same difference in my book.” She let go of his hand to shoo away more emerging bugs. “It’s ridiculous we’re even doing this. We should’ve turned around and fought him.”

They’d been over this while they’d crawled through the mangroves. Earlier, he’d given Cami credit for being able to maintain her sense of humor, despite the situation. But with each passing hour, she’d grown irritable. Before they’d made it through the mangroves and reached the sawgrass marsh, she’d once again suggested they try to arm themselves, hide until the bastard reached their location, then attack. If it had only been him, or he’d been with one of his agents, he would have done just that hours ago. But he wasn’t willing to risk her life. A stick and rock were no match for a gun or knife.

Even if they’d managed to take the bastard down and unarm him, what then?

He’d killed only one man, and that had been in the line of duty. He’d shot a few others, but only to stop them during a criminal pursuit, not send them to the morgue. In his gut, he knew he’d have no problem killing
this
man. But how would Cami react once the deed had been done? Or worse, what if he was injured or incapacitated and she was forced to react? Cami wasn’t a killer. Even if she had to kill out of self-defense, he wouldn’t want her to live with the guilt of taking another person’s life.

“You have nothing to say?” she asked. “I mean, come on, Ian. You worked for the FBI and run an agency. Fighting back should be in your nature.”

“Either your memory is short, or you’re purposefully pretending we haven’t been over this before.” He used the stick to maintain his balance when his foot became stuck in the mud. “I’m not going to take the risk of fighting him. Not yet.”

“Not yet,” she repeated with heavy sarcasm, and knocked blades aside with her arms. “Then when? Before or after we’re eaten by an alligator or bitten by a snake? Or maybe you want to wait until we can’t see straight because we’re too dehydrated.”

“The human body can last a week without water before—”

“A week? I’ll be damned if I’m staying in this godforsaken swamp for that long.”

He momentarily closed his eyes and tried to rein in his patience. “I told you that we’ll probably come across someone or at least a road leading to—”

“A resort?” She let out a huff. “Please don’t bullshit me.”

“Would you stop interrupting me? It’s getting old.”

“This sawgrass is getting old. Listening to you is getting old. We should be sitting on the beach, toes in the sand and—” She jumped and did a little dance. “Something just touched me,” she said in a rush, her eyes wide, panic etched on her dirty face.

He looked down to where the dark water came to his knees. Several small silvery fish sliced past his legs. “Fish. Nothing more.”

“The only fish I like comes from a can.”

They continued forward, thankfully in silence. This bitchy, whiny side of Cami was something he’d never witnessed before. He had a feeling that what they were going through would test their relationship. While she was starting to irritate the hell out of him, he also knew she was acting out of character. He loved Cami and wanted to spend the rest of his days loving her. She made him laugh, softened his rigid edges and reminded him that life should be lived. He’d spent so many years dedicating his time to either the FBI or CORE, he hadn’t given himself the chance to enjoy even the smaller pleasures. Cami, on the other hand, was all about living life to the fullest. She’d once told him that she planned to go to her deathbed exhausted, not from sickness or disease, but because she’d spent her days playing hard and having fun.

Too bad they weren’t having any fun now.

Cami had moved behind him a while back, allowing him to cut the path through the marsh without the sawgrass springing back into her face. “Doing okay?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

Sweat had carved a clean path through the dirt coating her forehead and cheeks. She kept her gaze locked on the water and nodded.

He looked past her to the shore. “It looks like we might be about halfway there.”

She glanced up, then gasped. “Oh, Ian,” she said, her eyes softening with concern. “Your chest and arms…give me the stick and let me take the lead.”

He examined his arms and chest where tiny droplets of blood formed over his skin. After the first dozen cuts, he’d grown numb to them and hadn’t realized how badly the sawgrass had sliced him. “I’ll be fine. I’d rather have you behind me.”

“Stubborn fool,” she said, grabbing the stick from him. “My skin is protected.” She held the stick with both hands and knocked the tall grasses aside. “If you didn’t get the memo, women are strong and capable.” She kicked the water. “Damn, I hate these stupid fish.” She looked up when a screech came from above.

He did, too, and watched as an eagle soared toward the trees they were trying to reach. “Almost there. And for the record, I
know
women are strong and capable. All I have to do is look at my daughter. And Rachel. Then there’s Lola, and of course, you.”

“I love Celeste, but I’m not sure how she feels about me.”

The sun began drying the tiny cuts on his skin, making them tighten and itch. “She’s happy we’re getting married,” he said, rubbing his arms. “I’m not sure I can say the same for Lola.”

“Don’t worry about her, she’s fine with it. I think she has a hard time separating that you’re her boss
and
future stepfather, though.”

That made sense, especially because most of his team was unaware that he and Cami had been dating, let alone engaged. Maybe he should have been upfront with his agents and told them the truth. But he hadn’t wanted them to look at Lola any differently from the next agent. He certainly didn’t favor Lola, but he
had
made her job easy for her. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, either. Lola knew what she was doing when he’d hired her, and had proven she could protect herself in the field. Hell, he’d wanted his own daughter to work for him and would have given her assignments that could put her in danger. Case resolution was something CORE was known for and he’d do just about anything to maintain his reputation.