Under Fire (19 page)

“I still don’t know if I can accept this.” She searched for a diplomatic way to put it. “You’ve already done so much, more than I could ever thank you for.”

“Actually, I should thank you.” She crossed her arms over her stomach, hugging herself, her smile sad. “I’m finally letting go of my brother.”

The woman’s pain reached clear across the table. “I’m sorry.”

Sunny shook her head. “This isn’t your fault or even mine. Phoenix put our whole family at risk for years, then he ran when his family needed him. He even abandoned his child… It’s time. Do this for Liam, okay? You may not even need the extra IDs. But just in case you need to watch his six.”

For Liam.

To be his partner, rather than a helpless tagalong.

Tentatively, she placed her hand over the pouch, considering… Accepting. Liam had gone to so much risk for her, she could do something for him, be in control of something.

She hugged the pouch to her chest, smiling her thanks for more than the papers. She owed this woman for the insights and strength. “What if I turn out to be an awful person? What happens if I do something like steal a car while I’m using the ID you gave me?”

Sunny blinked with over wide eyes and exaggerated innocence. “IDs? I don’t know what you’re talking about and you can be sure those can never, ever be traced back to me. So tell me, are you going to do whatever it takes to watch Liam’s back?”

Rachel tucked the pouch into her backpack. “I’m so glad I was able to buy these off that guy on a street corner.”

“Exactly.” Sunny nodded approvingly. “And hey, if you steal a car, make sure it’s a really kick-ass convertible.”

Liam tucked his duffel into the back of the Suburban as the sun cranked onto the horizon. He hefted a second, larger bag with borrowed camping gear. Hopefully things wouldn’t get that desperate, but better to be prepared.

Wade loaded a box of MREs—meals ready to eat—alongside a flat of bottled water. “What else do you need from me?”

“I wish I knew exactly.” He hoped he’d planned for every contingency, but he was shadowboxing with a faceless enemy. He glanced up at the kitchen window, curtains lifting in the muggy morning breeze. Rachel and Sunny sat at the kitchen table with their heads close as they gabbed. His mom would have liked Rachel’s fighting spirit.

“Seriously,” Wade said, shuffling the gear in the back of the Suburban so it wouldn’t slide around, “talk around the subject if you have to, but give me something else I can do to help you out. You’re a smart dude. Make use of all the resources.”

Liam combed his fingers through his hair, his mind in three different places at once. Planning where to get a replacement vehicle. Here with this friend. Back at base, wondering what was going on. “I wish I had some big revelation to pass along, beyond Harris’s suspicions. I gotta say that even if I did, I’m not sure I would tell you. Honest to God, I don’t want you tangled up in this anymore than you have to be.”

“How do I find you then”—Wade leaned back against the vehicle, arms over his chest—“if you’re not going to tell me where you’re going?”

Liam passed over a slip of paper with the phone number for the throwaway cell he’d bought even before he went to the safe house on base. From the start, he’d sensed he needed to keep his options open. “Memorize it.”

Wade stared at the number intently, then reached into the camping gear and pulled out a small box of matches. One fast strike and a flame lit up. He burned the paper, holding a corner between two fingers until the ashes floated away in the wind. “Anything else?”

He weighed the options, hated like hell to drag anyone else in… but if what Harris said was right? If Sylvia was concerned enough to want him off base? For more than Rachel’s sake, he needed to unravel this mess fast.

And like it or not, he needed help, and when it came to keeping Rachel safe, he would take all the help he could get.

Liam closed the back of the Suburban. “I need Cuervo to do some recon for me, see if he can find Brandon Harris before anyone else does.”

“I could do that for you.”

“You’ve got a wife and I’ve already put you two at risk enough. Besides, you’re supposed make an appearance at work tomorrow, and Cuervo has the day off.”

“And Cuervo needs to do what?”

“I’ve got an idea where Brandon Harris may be. If he’s there, I need Cuervo to hide him.” He slid another piece of paper from his pocket with the name of the dog-sitting service. “Start here looking for him. Once Cuervo locates Harris, use that info I gave you and contact me. I’ll set up a meet.”

“Call me dense, but why not find him yourself?”

“I need for Cuervo to figure out if Brandon’s being watched first.” Palm trees rustled overhead and seabirds called in the distance, but there were no other noises, no one approaching from the outside world. “I also need time to make sure I’m not being watched.”

“The guy really does know something.”

That much was certain. “I believe he does. Something big, and he’s holding back. Somebody thinks Rachel knows more than she’s telling. And I have to figure out what exactly they believe she knows before the wrong people try to pry it out of her.” His hand gravitated to his chrome Desert Eagle strapped to his waist.

“What if she really is holding back? No offense, but your track record in reading women isn’t the best.”

“No offense taken. There’s no denying my past.” Muscles kinked along his back at memories of his second wife cheating, other wives walking because they couldn’t take the crap that came with this job. He had plenty of reasons not to trust women, but damned if he could leave Rachel hanging out to dry. “My gut tells me she’s innocent in all of this. There’s nothing for her to gain and it’s clear someone is seriously gunning for her. I can’t walk away.”

“For what it’s worth, I really hope your gut is a hundred percent on the mark about her.” Wade exhaled hard in the early morning heat, looking around the property, on guard. “Take care of yourself out there. If things go seriously to hell, contact Special Agent Sylvia Cramer.”

“You’re sure about her?”

“As sure as I possibly can be, and she’s a better option than that suck-up Bernard. Watch your back regardless.”

“Will do,” Liam answered as the screen door squeaked open, drawing his eyes to the two women stepping out.

Drawing his eyes to Rachel.

She’d changed into fresh clothes borrowed from Sunny, shorts and a bright pink T-shirt with a recycle symbol in the middle. Radiating energy, she took the stairs at a sprint, each step determined, committed. Five feet, three inches of pure momentum, she took his breath away.

He blinked himself back to more practical thoughts. Rachel had pulled her wavy hair back into a high ponytail off her neck, to stay cooler, no doubt. Perfect for where they were headed next. The safest place he knew, and yet at the moment, nowhere felt safe enough where she was concerned.

He turned to Wade. “If something happens to me—”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Wade said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll look out for her.”

Nothing else needed to be said.

It was time to roll.

***

Catriona wondered what Brandon would do if she just crawled right on top of him as he slept on her sofa. She would kiss him, feel the warm heat of his solid body against her. Maybe even slide her hand into his pants and stroke him awake.

Although on second thought, probably not wise to startle awake someone with PTSD.

So instead, as she stood in the archway between her dining room and living room, she allowed herself the luxury of staring at his big body sprawled on her mother’s red velvet Victorian sofa. Harley kept guard over her owner from the floor. The shaggy Australian shepherd–beagle mix kept her head on her paws, but her eyes tracked back and forth, one blue, one brown.

Brandon twitched every so often, even jolted so hard sometimes, she thought he might bolt upright. Yet he stayed asleep.

His hand slid from the sofa and Harley nosed his palm. A sigh rattled through Brandon as his fingers slid into his dog’s thick, tricolor coat.

What a restless way to make it through the night. He must be exhausted. What would it feel like to stretch out beside him, not for sex? Just to caress back the thick thatch of hair from his forehead until he settled into peaceful sleep.

They’d gotten back late after driving over to Rachel’s. A fruitless trip, in that they didn’t find her. On the bright side, at least he’d gotten a voice mail from her, one that had made him furrow his brow mighty deeply, considering he should have been relieved to hear her voice. He’d tried calling Rachel back, but no luck.

At least they knew she was okay. And Rachel’s other two dogs were safe here.

Granted, all of the animals were agitated from so many drive-bys this morning. Usually, her little beach dead-end road was quiet, other than people dropping off their pets. There was a sign at the top of the corner that plainly said “Private” and “No Thru Traffic.”

There had even been fresh tire tracks outside in the driveway when they’d gotten back last night. Which could just mean someone had pulled in to turn around, then left. She’d actually forgotten about it until now. She’d been distracted from the tire marks when Brandon reached to take the pillow and blanket from her before crashing on her sofa.

And since he was still sleeping, she needed to keep the dogs quiet so they didn’t wake Brandon. She pulled her eyes away from him and slipped through the kitchen to the back door to meet clients for the day. With luck, they would all drop off their pooches before he woke up, because she was really looking forward to sharing breakfast with him.

A year ago, she wouldn’t have had the confidence to pursue him, but building her own business had given her a new sense of her own worth. She didn’t need to “settle,” the way her mother had always told her. And she didn’t need to assume guys were only interested because of her parents’ nonexistent money.

Yes, she’d dated a couple of losers in the past, but in those days, she’d been too swayed by her mother’s influence. She hadn’t trusted her own judgment enough.

But no longer. Others might have concerns about Brandon, but she saw deeper. She saw the man, and by God, she wanted him. She would find out what it was like to sleep beside him. To soothe him back to a peaceful rest when dreams made him twitchy.

Scratching Tabitha’s head on her way past, she grabbed a bag of dog biscuits and headed for the fenced area. Just in time too, as another car cruised by slowly. Sheesh, was it her imagination, or was everyone driving silver sedans today?

***

Rachel grabbed the roll bar on the rusted piece of crap Jeep Liam had bought with cash at ten this morning. By eleven, they’d parked the Suburban at an airport and started driving south. She’d thought at first he planned to go find Brandon, but they’d passed that turnoff hours ago. Now it was late afternoon. The open expanse of ocean had long ago shifted to marshy everglades.

Trees stretched skyward, creating an intermittent leafy canopy. Disco was seriously loving the open-air ride, his muzzle tipped up into the wind, taking in the rush of scents.

With no roof, if it rained, they were screwed.

They hit a pothole and the nonexistent shock absorbers did little to keep her from lifting off the seat. Only the belt kept her inside. Disco jockeyed for balance in back with a skill earned from climbing over collapsed rubble during training and searches. The Lab tried to wedge himself between the seats, huffing as he rested his nose on her shoulder.

The Jeep ate up the miles to heaven only knew where. She wished she could just let the wind unravel the tension inside her the way it played with Liam’s blond hair. But there wasn’t enough wind to sweep away the stress of the past twenty-four hours. She’d been threatened. Almost run off the road. Questioned by the OSI. Running from the OSI.

And in the middle of it all, she’d reunited with the one man to break through her barriers since Caden had died.

For about the fiftieth time today, she wished she’d come to see Liam when she first moved to Florida so they could have sorted through these feelings in a normal setting.

“I’m sorry for all you have to do for me. That sure was a lot of money to spend on a disposable car.”

“Who says I intend to throw it away? I love Jeeps. And after seeing my pristine one get trashed, I may go for the beat-up look from now on.” He draped his wrist over the steering wheel, wind ruffling his close-shorn hair. “When insurance pays on the other one, I’ll make out like a bandit.”

His weathered skin soaked up more of the sun high overhead, his five-o’clock shadow shifting more into a scruffy beard. He wore camo pants and a simple T-shirt now, looking more like a hunter than a clean-cut military man. The transformation was about more than the clothes. He’d somehow… changed.

And she found this side of him every bit as much of a turn-on as the other facets of Liam McCabe she’d seen so far. He was a formidable man.

Disco sighed again, letting loose a hefty dose of dog breath.

“Fine, Disco. Come on up here, boy.” She hugged her knees, the back so crammed with gear, he might as well take up residence on the floorboards in front of her. Once her dog settled, she turned back to Liam. “You’re nice to make this sound like it isn’t a huge pain in the ass.”