“You think he won’t follow me across the world?” She paused. “I used to think he was some kind of clandestine agent, but I could never prove it. He could be anybody, anything. And he won’t stop. The last few days have proven that if nothing else. He cut the power to the house. He was calling me when I had no signal. Sienna got the text about Emily, but she didn’t get any calls on the clone, just me. Mr. Thomas has technical skills we can’t compete with.”
Wyatt nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Don’t shut me out.”
“I won’t.”
She stared at him a moment longer, then her phone rang. “It’s Emily.” She answered the call. “Are you serious?” Pause. “Thank you so much.”
Nina hung up. “Emily went through her phone, and then her computer. She has an old picture. Of Mr. Thomas.”
* * *
Nina was no longer the only person who had seen Mr. Thomas close enough to be able to identify him. Wyatt had chased him from her condo, and Emily—and others—had met him as children. He’d shot at the man in Karl and Tashi’s backyard.
They strode from the diner, and Nina walked out ahead of Wyatt. Where she was in a hurry to get to, she didn’t know. The police were going to email the picture to Wyatt. They should probably be getting home to their own town. She didn’t want Mr. Thomas anywhere near Emily, and if Nina could lead him away from the young girl then all the better.
Wyatt caught her hand with his and unlocked the SUV. She didn’t look at him. It wasn’t that she’d thought he didn’t believe her that Mr. Thomas was real. He’d seen evidence. But a picture? They would be able to run the photo through databases that could match his picture to a name. Finally his real identity would be known.
Nina had never been this close before. It was so tangible she could almost taste it.
Wyatt walked her to the passenger side and held the door for her. She frowned at his gentlemanly actions, but he only shrugged. His phone beeped. Before she could ask if that was the picture, he shut the door. When he got in the driver’s side he tucked away his phone. “Tashi’s out of surgery.”
“That’s good.”
He nodded, a look of relief on his face. “It is.”
This time Nina reached over and squeezed his hand. He held hers back and didn’t let go. He’d been a rock in the two days since she’d nearly been killed in that hit-and-run, and he didn’t seem to be planning to let up anytime soon. Despite being a stubborn, immovable rock at times, he had still helped her. “Thank you.”
He glanced over. “For what?”
“Being here. Staying with me.” She shrugged. “Everything.”
“You’re welcome.” She saw sympathy, not sure if she entirely appreciated the fact that she needed it. But there was an edge there in his eyes also. An edge she’d seen a few times over the last two days, one that said she was a little too determined to find Mr. Thomas.
She was used to it. The men she’d met her whole adult life had each eventually looked at her that way. At least the ones who’d known she was a CIA agent knew why. She’d gathered intelligence that toppled empires of men determined to rip the world apart for their own selfish gain, men who had to be brought low. And she’d been proud to be part of it. To do her part to make the world better. Safer.
This time she would be the one doing the takedown. This time it was personal. Mr. Thomas had bought that with the way he’d systematically destroyed her family, her solitude and her plan to get justice for both of her parents. Not to mention shooting Tashi.
If Wyatt thought she had a one-track mind, it was because she did. There was no room for these personal feelings that seemed to hover in the air between them. No room for the softness he brought out in her. Nina had to stay the course or risk Mr. Thomas’s destroying her completely.
“Home?”
She glanced at him, nodded.
“All righty then.”
Nina would have smiled, but only had the energy for a long exhale. Wyatt squeezed her hand and said, “Sleep.” According to the clock on the dash it wasn’t even lunchtime yet, but Nina didn’t argue.
She woke when they pulled into town. Wyatt handed over his phone. He told her the pass code, and she unlocked it to see the photo was onscreen. “That’s him.” She handed it back, not willing to look at it any longer.
Wyatt tucked the phone away. “Okay.”
That was it? Okay. Nina didn’t know how to respond to that.
As downtown whizzed past, she realized he was headed for her condo. “Actually, could you drop me at Sienna’s?” She tried to keep her voice light, and hopefully it worked. Wyatt didn’t need to know she was relieved that she hadn’t stepped foot in her own place since she’d been there with Mr. Thomas. Or that she had no intention of going back anytime soon.
She pulled out her own phone and sent her friend a text. Sienna would understand, and she’d let Nina sleep on her couch.
Wyatt frowned at her, but changed direction and headed south.
“Sorry, it’s probably out of your way.”
“It isn’t.”
She glanced at him.
“I live a quarter mile up the same road. Hang a left at the tree stump.”
“The tree stump?”
He shrugged. “It’s a dirt track with no street sign. Half a mile up the mountain and you’re at my cabin.”
In a weird way, it made perfect sense. The boots, the jeans. They weren’t just a “look,” they were him. “Huh.”
“It’s not your fancy high-rise, but it’s home.”
“I’m not—”
He pulled up and parked. “We’re here.”
Before she could answer, he climbed out of the car. Nina grabbed her belongings from the foot well behind her seat. He’d made an assumption. She hated when anyone did that, let alone when it was a man whose opinion mattered. A lot. He’d seen her condo, noted its price tag and come to a conclusion that put her in a box. A moneyed, snobby box she’d hated basically her whole life. Was it her fault that her parents had amassed some money? It hadn’t made their lives better. Private boarding school hadn’t made her life better.
While Nina had considered it a blessing she was able to concentrate on the search for Mr. Thomas right now, it wasn’t like she was going to lie on her couch all day, every day and eat bonbons while other folks went to their jobs. She had one starting in a few weeks.
Nina stomped past him and let herself in the house.
Sienna came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel.
“Can I sleep on your couch?”
“I finished the guest room.”
Nina changed directions and headed for the hallway. “Even better.”
Sienna’s gaze was fixed on the doorway, but Nina didn’t want to talk to Wyatt or about Wyatt. Not when he thought she was judging him because he didn’t have as much money as her. For all she knew, he could be a billionaire who wanted to be a federal agent, and who lived in a cabin because he liked it.
Nina slammed the guest room door.
* * *
Wyatt turned to leave.
“Not so fast there, buddy.”
He glanced over his shoulder at Sienna’s raised eyebrow. “It’s been a long day.”
“You’re not going to tell me what that was?”
“I don’t know what that was.”
“And it didn’t have anything to do with why she’s here and not at her place?”
Wyatt shrugged. “I’m tired, Sienna.”
“Fine, I’ll let it go.”
She might have, but Wyatt didn’t. The question stayed with him on the drive to his cabin. He had no idea what was going on in Nina’s head, and it seemed that she didn’t have much intention of sharing with him. And why did that bother him so much? He wasn’
t sure he’d ever cared what a woman thought before—why would he when it would be indecipherable anyway?
Okay, so he wasn’t man-of-the-year material. But things with Nina were different. Finally his relationship with a woman had begun with friendship, and he’d thought they were building a foundation from there. Maybe they weren’t. Maybe he and Nina were just too different and they’d never find a common ground.
Wyatt’s thoughts sputtered like he’d run out of gas. He hit the brake and stopped, eyes on his cabin.
The front door was open.
NINE
Wyatt hit Send on a text to Parker and crept toward his front door, weapon ready. The neighbor lady who cleaned his house had a key, but today wasn’t her day. She’d never even so much as left the place unlocked—even though Wyatt did it all the time. He had nothing worth stealing, and she’d never leave the door open anyway.
Entranceway was clear. It wasn’t a big place, maybe eleven hundred square feet total, but the layout was like a maze. The blind corners had given him pause when he’d bought it, but he’d figured one day he might need the defensive advantage in his home. Guess that day is today.
Kitchen was clear.
Hall. Living room. Same.
The door to his bedroom was wide, so he peered around the corner.
“Don’t just stand there, come in.”
Wyatt went gun first, just to make the point. “Hands on your head, you’re under arrest.”
Mr. Thomas turned. “I don’t think so.” A vicious scratch had left a raw red line from the corner of his left eye down to his jaw.
Wyatt lifted his chin. “Nina do that to you?”
Mr. Thomas’s eyes narrowed.
“I said hands on your head.”
The man cocked his head to the side. “Hmm. I don’t see it.”
Was Wyatt supposed to know what he was talking about? The man had broken into his cabin to chat, but Wyatt wasn’t going to assume an attack wouldn’t be forthcoming.
“Especially considering the ‘victim, father’ angle.” The man’s accent was upper class. He likely blended in well at the country club, especially in that tailored shirt and slacks and those loafers. He must have changed after tussling with Nina on the grass the night before.
Wyatt said, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
The longer Wyatt could get him to peaceably hang around, the better chance he and Parker had of bringing the guy in without too much hassle. They’d brought down violent criminals before, and if a physical altercation could be avoided, that was preferable. But the man was going down. He’d shot Tashi. And while she would recover, Karl was a total wreck.
Wyatt didn’t blame him. Thinking Nina might have been hurt, it had felt like his heart stopped beating for a second. He couldn’t imagine what Karl was feeling.
Parker hadn’t replied, but he would be here in minutes. Wyatt just had to stall.
“I spent the day doing my homework.” Mr. Thomas turned slowly. He surveyed the photo frames on Wyatt’s dresser, old family pictures. His parents’ vow renewal. He lifted a picture of Wyatt and his brother with their arms around their father, the shorter, gray-haired man between them.
“Interesting man, your father. I understand he was a cop, like you. Left the force right around the time you transferred out of the police department. Though I don’t blame you, greener pastures and all that.” Mr. Thomas paused. “And while I understand his move perfectly well, choosing to resign in the face of what he had to know was coming, I don’t so much understand yours.”
What his father had coming? The man was making assumptions he knew nothing about. “What it is, is none of your business.”
He knew what Mr. Thomas was doing. Or trying to do. It was the biggest angle there was, the most obvious and he was aiming true. He was attempting to get in Wyatt’s head and throw him off. But Wyatt knew it, which gave him the advantage. He lifted his gun back up the inch it had slipped. “I’m not going to ask again.”
“He’s been trying to call you, hasn’t he? Guess you have nothing to say. Maybe you feel like he betrayed you, betrayed the brotherhood, his badge. Sacred honor and all.”
“Like you could understand any of that.”
“Hmm. More than you may think.” Mr. Thomas paused for a breath, his words measured as though he had all the time in the world.
Where was Parker?
“I, too, once belonged to a brotherhood. I had a mission, a cause to fight for. They sold that and every one of us bought it. But the rose always withers, does it not? Faith dies. Love fades. Things lose their shine, and all you’re left with is the bitter truth.”
“And what’s that?”
“Nina and I are tied together. We are bonded in a way you cannot even dream of. And you will never, not for all the trying in the world, be able to sever that connection. It was forged in blood, and she will never feel for you what she feels for me, not once in the rest of her life. Me? I made her free.”
Dread flooded Wyatt like an ice bath on an already cold day, and he clenched his stomach to keep from shivering. This guy was insane.
Mr. Thomas’s expression was blank, even with all he’d been spouting. “All you have is guilt you haven’t saved her from me. That’s not a basis for a relationship, regardless of her deluding herself into thinking she has feelings for you. She’s not capable of giving you what you want.”
“And you know her better than she knows herself, am I right?”
Mr. Thomas didn’t answer.
Figures. Wyatt could barely stomach the arrogance pouring off this guy. It was everything he hated about rich people who thought money could buy them out of their problems, their habits or their charges. And yeah, he might have taken that out on Nina when she was clearly different. But he’d seen it so many times he could almost spot it before the person even said anything.
Wyatt stepped forward. “Connection or not, you’re under arrest. I’d read the list of charges, but it might take a while.” This guy wasn’t going to get in his head. Wyatt was no longer prepared to let that happen.
Mr. Thomas lifted his hands to elbow height and held his palms out. That didn’t mean he didn’t have a weapon stashed somewhere on his person. Wyatt circled around to the back of him. “Hands.”
Mr. Thomas moved.
Wyatt blocked the first blow, and the second. He hit back, used his gun as weight and saw Mr. Thomas stumble. He stepped forward, then realized too late that the man had faked it. Mr. Thomas’s uppercut hit Wyatt on the chin.
He blinked, stumbled back and shook off the daze. Hit back. Caught him in the stomach. The ribs. Breath whooshed from Mr. Thomas’s lungs.
Wyatt reached for a pair of flex cuffs. In the space of a blink, Mr. Thomas’s hand darted out. His locked fingers hit Wyatt right in the throat.
Wyatt choked, fell to his knees and gasped for breath. The gun dropped to the carpet.
Air. He needed air.
Where was Parker? Mr. Thomas was getting away. Pant legs appeared in front of him, shoes. Then a cold voice said, “It’s time to say goodbye, Wyatt Ames. This has been fun, but now I have more important matters to attend to. Adios.”
Wyatt grabbed for the place on Mr. Thomas’s arm he thought he’d hit in Karl’s backyard.
Mr. Thomas cried out, but managed to punch him again. In the throat. Again.
Wyatt collapsed on the floor of his bedroom, still trying to suck air into his screaming lungs, but curled up enough he could reach his ankle and the backup weapon he kept in a holster there.
He lifted the gun and fired at Mr. Thomas once again as he ran from the scene.
Wyatt coughed, rolled and tried to get up. Collapsed back down. He fumbled for his phone, dropped it.
Message did not send.
He called Pa
rker’s number. Your call cannot be connected.
Were they okay? Had Mr. Thomas done something to them, or to their house?
It was getting easier to breathe, but he was still likely going to pass out. Before he did, he called 911. It rang. And rang. I’m sorry, your call cannot be connected.
Black spots flickered on the edges of Wyatt’s vision. He was going to pass out. His friends were in danger.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
* * *
From far away, a phone rang. Nina set her mug on the coffee table and turned toward the sound. Not her phone, and despite it being early morning it hadn’t woken her. She’d have to have been asleep in the first place for that.
“Are you kidding me?” Parker’s heavy steps strode down the hall toward her. “Yes. We’ll be there in two minutes.”
Nina glanced over the back of the couch where he muttered, “I don’t believe this,” pulling on his jacket. He glanced up. “Don’t just sit there, get dressed.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Sienna! Let’s go!”
“What happened?”
“Mr. Thomas attacked Wyatt.” Nina shot off the couch while Parker continued, “He’s at his house and awake enough to explain what happened. I’ll meet you there.”
Nina looked around for the jeans she’d bought in Portland. “Is he okay?”
“He’s alive.” Parker shut the front door.
Sienna emerged from the bedroom, and Nina got dressed. Sienna drove them to Wyatt’s in her car. Nina didn’t even know where his place was, but for Wyatt’s description of a tree stump. Apparently Mr. Thomas did, though. What had he done? Why had he turned on Wyatt so soon after they’d returned from Portland?
Dawn had barely broken. Sienna took the curves at a speed that made Nina grab the handle at the top of the door. When she pulled up outside a log cabin, she parked on a grassy bank off to the side of two cop cars, Parker’s SUV and an ambulance. The front door was wide open, two cops on the porch.
Nina threw the car door open and raced over. She ran inside and saw Parker at the end of the hall. “Over here.” He sent her a chin lift that didn’t reassure her one bit.
Dead End Page 8
