Castle Investigations Box Set

by Dee Bridgnorth

  And what was he going to do about the growing feelings he'd developed for Isabel? It seemed like a lost cause. They worked together. She was Sully's sister. What happened if they gave this a go, and it all went south? He'd ruin a wonderful friendship not only with her, but also with his best friend. The only brother he'd ever had.

  They arrived at the address that Quita had given them right on time. The diner was exactly like something you'd imagine seeing in a movie. Its shiny silver aluminum exterior held a run-down dive on the inside that hadn't seen an update in at least sixty years.

  Quita sat at a table near the back. Ethan let Isabel walk in front of him, placing his hand on her lower back. He felt her shiver and held back a smile. He loved that his touch did that to her.

  Quita looked up from her coffee.

  "Have a seat, please," she said.

  She was beautiful. So much different from last night without all the makeup and costumes. Even though Isabel had described her as having blonde hair, he was still shocked to see it, as well as the light smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were a blue-green. She didn't look at all like the Latin bombshell she portrayed on stage.

  With her name and costumes, he'd thought that she was of Hispanic descent. But looking at her in broad daylight, she didn't seem to have an ounce of Latin blood in her—at least not in terms of the stereotypical look.

  "Thanks," Ethan answered, letting Isabel slide into the booth first. A waitress stopped at the table. She looked as if she'd been there all night. Her tired eyes barely saw him, but she asked, "What can I get ya?"

  "Just coffee for me."

  "Coffee's fine for me, too," Isabel answered.

  The waitress grabbed the pot from a nearby stand and turned over their coffee mugs, pouring the steaming hot brew inside. When she'd left, Ethan looked at Quita.

  "You wanted to meet?"

  Quita kept her head down, her hands fidgeting with a napkin on the table. Finally, she met his gaze. "Bruno knows you're here."

  "We figured that out last night," he said snidely.

  "I'm sorry about that. I didn't have a choice."

  "I'm not sure I buy that."

  Isabel placed her hand on his. "Look, we're lucky to be alive. Bruno wants us dead. There's a hit not only on our heads, but on some of our co-workers’ as well."

  "I know all about the Castle Investigations team. You killed Bruno's brother."

  "Only after he'd shot and almost killed the wife of one of our operators."

  That news seemed to shock Quita. Apparently, Bruno hadn't filled her in on the specifics.

  "I didn't realize."

  "Why did you want to meet?" Isabel asked.

  "I came to warn you. You need to leave town. He won't stop. He's obsessed. You're in grave danger, and you need to leave Vegas right away."

  "We can't do that," Ethan argued.

  "Then I can't be responsible for what happens." She stood to leave, but Isabel reached out and took her hand, stopping her for a moment.

  "Help us. We can keep you safe—"

  "I can't. He'll kill me. Or worse."

  And with those parting words, Quita left the diner, not even looking back.

  What was worse than death?

  * * * *

  The meeting had been a waste of time. They'd learned nothing about Bruno except what they already knew. He wanted them dead. The price on their heads had already confirmed that.

  The entire way back from the diner, Ethan had tried to find a way to talk about what was happening between him and Isabel. Instead of thinking about the case, he was thinking about her. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. They needed to discuss what was happening between them, and whether or not they wanted to explore it.

  He needed to know how she felt. Was she willing to take a risk and defy her brother? See where this went? He hadn't even decided if he was willing to take that risk—but damn, he wanted to. He wished things were simpler.

  As they approached their room, the fire in Ethan was burning at an all-time high. Reaching for Isabel, he spun her around.

  "We need to talk about last night."

  "What about last night?"

  "The kiss," he said.

  "We've kissed before, Ethan. It's no big deal."

  She was lying. He could see it all over her face. When she tried to pull free of his grasp, he tightened his hold, placing one hand on the other side of her head, boxing her in.

  Her breaths came faster as his eyes traveled over her face, landing on her lips.

  "You're lying," he said.

  "No, I'm not."

  "You are. I can tell. And don't pretend you don't feel this, Izz. This thing that's between us."

  "We can't," she protested.

  "Why? Why can't we?"

  "Because—"

  Ethan silenced her protests with his lips. The kiss was soft at first, gentle and lazy. Isabel seemed reluctant, her lips shut firmly against his.

  "Kiss me back, Izz," he demanded.

  And as if something had broken within her, her lips parted as his tongue delved inside. Her fists curled in his hair as she held his head in place while he moved his mouth over hers. Need pulsed inside him. Wanting to get closer, he pulled her flush against his body, and she moaned at the contact.

  The passion between them burned like fire, and Ethan made a decision. She was his. He didn't care about Sully or about being co-workers and friends. All he cared about was Isabel.

  "Izz—" he said, as he pulled his mouth from hers. Panic flashed in her eyes, interrupting the desire-filled spell she'd been under.

  Pushing on his chest, Isabel freed herself from Ethan's grasp. He raised his hands to show her that he wasn't trying to force her into anything. That he wouldn't hold her against her will.

  "I can't!" she said, and rushed to the door. His gaze landed on the small scratch mark near the door handle.

  "Wait!" he called out as she slipped the key card into the slot. "Wait, Izz!"

  But it was too late. Isabel pushed the handle down, and the whole world exploded.

  Chapter 8

  She'd been hit by a bus. That was the only explanation for the impact that had knocked into her right before the loud boom and flames had rained down on her head. Isabel tried to lift her head to see what was happening, but she couldn't move. A large weight was on top of her.

  She struggled to get free—to move this thing that was weighing her down. Ethan. Where was he?

  "Ethan?" she croaked.

  The only sound was fire and falling debris from the hotel room. The hotel room that had just exploded.

  "Ethan?" she called more desperately, trying to crawl out from under whatever had her pinned down. When she turned her head, she saw that Ethan was lying on top of her. She struggled to get out from under his weight. If he wasn't responding, then that meant he wasn't conscious.

  She pulled herself out from underneath him, then placed his head in her lap. Gently, she tapped his cheeks. "Ethan? Wake up, please," she begged him.

  A moan was ripped from Ethan's throat, and Isabel sighed in relief. Blinking rapidly, Ethan moved his head, trying to look around him at the destruction. Reality seemed to dawn on him, and he said, "Are you ok?"

  "Am I ok? You big oaf! You slammed into me like a freight train."

  "Oaf?"

  "Shut up." She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, desperate to feel his touch. To assure herself that he was alive and well.

  "Help me sit up," he said. Sliding her arm under his shoulders and around his back, she lifted him up.

  "You need to be careful. You might have a concussion." Isabel rubbed his head, checking for bumps.

  His eyes closed at her touch. "I don't. Just rattled my cage a bit."

  Isabel looked around at the mess that was their hotel room. Ethan stood, taking her hand and pulling her up to her feet. When he turned, Isabel gasped.

  "Ethan! You're burned. I'm calling 9-1-1."

  "No, yo
u're not. We can patch me up some other time. Right now, we need to get out of here. I have a feeling that someone will be checking to make sure there are no witnesses left."

  As if on cue, the elevator dinged, and four men with guns in hand stepped into the hallway. Ethan pulled his gun from behind his back and pushed Isabel towards the stairs.

  "Go!"

  She grabbed his hand, and they ran. Bullets pinged off the walls, exploding sheetrock and pictures in their path. Ethan returned fire as Isabel pulled open the door to the stairwell. He shut the door behind them, then knocked the glass pane out of the fire extinguisher box on the wall. Taking the ax out of the box, he shoved it through the door handle, lodging it closed.

  "Let's go!"

  Just as they turned the corner, two men bounded up the stairs with guns drawn. Ethan took two shots, hitting one and then the other right between the eyes. Both fell to the ground. Scooping up their guns, Ethan tucked one behind his back and handed the other to Isabel.

  "A replacement for the one you lost last night," he said. She palmed the handgun, checking to make sure it was loaded.

  They ran down the rest of the stairs until they hit the lobby. The parking garage entrance was on the other side of the hotel, so they'd have to be out in the open for a few moments in order to get to it.

  Ethan peeked around the corner, looking both ways. "Ok, as far as I can tell, the coast is clear. Stay close to me. Keep the gun in your hand, but try to keep it hidden as much as possible. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

  Ethan slipped his arm around Isabel, shielding her from the men they knew were swarming around them like flies. Isabel looked up and saw several men watching them, their hands resting on their hips, where their guns were holstered.

  They were about midway through the lobby when two men drew up right behind them. Walking faster, Isabel chanced a glance behind them. One of the men was pulling a gun.

  "He's drawing his gun," she hissed at Ethan. He glanced behind him, then pushed her to the side, drawing his own weapon. She realized that Ethan wasn't going to be fast enough, as the extra time it had taken to push her out of the way had him seconds behind the other guy. Isabel didn't hesitate. She fired. Two shots to the head, and the man went down.

  Screams and shouts erupted in the lobby. Heavy feet sounded as people rushed to get away from the dead man lying on the ground, blood pooling under his head. Isabel and Ethan didn't wait around to see what the other man would do, or who had seen them. Sprinting for the door, they pushed their way outside to the car parked nearby.

  Throwing open the door, Isabel climbed inside the car. "Go, go, go!" she yelled, as Ethan peeled out of the garage, tires squealing.

  Isabel chanced a look behind her, watching as two black SUVs chased close behind.

  "Ethan, we've got company!"

  "I see them. Put your seatbelt on."

  Ethan raced out onto Las Vegas Boulevard, cutting off two cars as he pulled into traffic. Horns sounded behind him, but he didn't stop. He drove like a race car driver, veering in and out of traffic, narrowly missing cars and signs.

  The yellow light ahead turned red. "It's red! What are we going to do?" Isabel asked.

  "Hold on!"

  Ethan punched the gas and flew through the intersection. Cars crashed behind him as they swerved to get out of his way, missing them but not fortunate enough to miss the oncoming traffic.

  The two SUVs followed behind them, dodging the crashed cars. It slowed them down, but not by much.

  "They're still back there," Isabel yelled.

  "I know, I know."

  Ethan turned down a side street, accelerating to over seventy miles per hour. Isabel squeezed the sides of her seat, trying not to fear for her life. If Bruno didn't kill them, it looked as if Ethan's driving might.

  "Do you think you can hit their tires?" Ethan asked, risking a small glance in her direction.

  "Me?" she squeaked, her voice two octaves higher than normal.

  "Ain't no one else in this car, darlin'. Can you do it?"

  "I'll try."

  Isabel unfastened her seatbelt and turned around in the seat. Rolling down the window, she saw that the SUV was only about a car length behind them. Hitting a target from this distance was no problem. Her brother and the FBI had trained her well. But hitting a moving target, while in a car traveling at an obscene speed, was another story entirely.

  "Can you slow down just a bit?" she asked, as she pulled the gun from her waistband and lined up a shot.

  "Not by much. You tell me when you're ready. I'll slow down when you give me the green light."

  "Roger that." Isabel leaned out the window, lining up the car's right tire in her sights.

  "Now!" she yelled. Ethan slowed down, causing the car behind them to draw closer. Isabel took her shot. A loud popping sound came from the tire. She quickly took aim at the other front tire and shot. Two for two. The other tire blew out, and the SUV spun out of control.

  The second SUV almost clipped the back end of the first one, managing to just miss it.

  "One down. One to go!"

  A popping sound, followed by pings off metal, accompanied her declaration. "They're shooting at us."

  "Really? I hadn't noticed," Ethan drawled.

  He punched the gas again, hitting the next intersection and following the signs for the highway. "Just hold on. We can outrun them once we hit the highway."

  More shots were fired, and Isabel yelped, covering her head and putting it between her legs.

  "Almost there. Almost there," Ethan chanted to himself. Isabel's head was firmly planted in her lap, so she didn't bother acknowledging his murmurings.

  "There!" Ethan shouted, as his foot punched the gas. Isabel was flung back in her seat, and she suddenly knew how it felt to be in a race car—g-forces and all that. She felt like her face was being flattened by the sheer power the car had, and was glad that Ethan was driving. No way in the world would she be comfortable going this fast.

  She turned to look behind her and saw the SUV fading behind them. Ethan was weaving in and out of traffic, and there was no way the SUV could keep up with the horsepower of their Porsche. Thank God Zach had thought to get them such a powerful car.

  A car that now had bullet holes in it. She really hoped they'd paid for insurance.

  After about ten minutes, Ethan took an exit into suburban Las Vegas. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. Finally, Ethan broke the silence.

  "You ok?"

  "I'm fine. You're the one with burns up and down your back, and a head injury."

  He gave her a wicked smile. One that made promises that she knew he shouldn't keep. Not to her, anyway. "You worried about me?"

  "Well, you did save my life. Twice, in twenty-four hours. I figure you deserve a little worry, at least."

  He smirked knowingly.

  "Better call Zach. We've lost all our equipment, clothes, guns, and hotel room. We're going to need supplies."

  Isabel pulled out her phone, briefly grieving the loss of the beautiful clothes that had been blown up in the hotel room. Clothes were replaceable, however. People were not.

  Zach answered on the first ring.

  "Isabel, I've got all kinds of shit hitting the fan in Las Vegas. What the hell happened?"

  "Our room was blown up." She put the phone on speaker, so Ethan could hear and comment as well. "We left a couple of dead bodies. A wrecked SUV. Maybe a car accident or two. Sorry."

  Zach mumbled some curses under his breath. "You guys ok?"

  "I'm fine. Ethan's burned. Maybe has a concussion." Ethan glared at her.

  "No concussion, and the burns are superficial. We'll grab some bandages and ointment when we have a new place to stay."

  "Roger that. I've got your GPS location. I think it’d be best if you guys stayed out away from the Strip."

  "Multiple points of escape, Zach."

  "Got it." Zach rattled off an address. "I'll send someone by with computer equipmen
t and weapons. There's a department store right down the road from the motel. Don’t use your cards. Ours aren't easily traced, but just in case."

  "Thanks, Zach," Isabel said.

  "Don't mention it. I'll do some damage control. Contact the Chief of Police and do some groveling. Might be best to fly under the radar tonight until I get this smoothed over."

  "Will do," Ethan said.

  "And Ethan?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Keep our girl safe, ok?"

  Isabel rolled her eyes. "I’m sitting right here, you know. I can hear you."

  Zach chuckled, but the look Ethan gave her was pure determination.

  "With my life," he promised.

  She certainly hoped it wouldn't come to that.

  * * * *

  The motel had clearly seen better days. The term no-tell motel came to mind. It was a drive-up motor lodge-type deal, and Isabel was certain you could rent it by the hour.

  "Keep the door locked," Ethan said as he got out of the car.

  "Yes, sir," she said with a mock salute. He rolled his eyes, turning to walk into the motel office.

  Isabel clicked the door locks as she waited for Ethan to return. It dawned on her that they'd be sharing a hotel room. No way would he allow her a separate room after all that had just happened. She just prayed that there were double beds. Isabel wasn't a saint, and her self-control had been tried a bit too much lately.

  Ethan returned, key in hand. She didn't let on about her nervousness with the bed situation. It was what it was, and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much the thought of potentially sharing a bed with him got to her.

  Ethan drove around to the other side of the building, pulling up in front of door 315. Two plastic chairs sat in front of the room. Isabel glanced around, seeing only a couple of other cars, one of which was parked in front of a door where a man sat smoking cigarettes. From the look of his butt pile, it appeared he'd been sitting there smoking for a while.

  She exited the car, giving a friendly nod to the man with the cigarettes. He didn't acknowledge her. Ok, then. Ethan turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door.

  The smell of mold and cigarette smoke hung heavily in the air. In the center was a queen size bed.