Deadly Bounty: SCVC Taskforce Romantic Suspense Series, Book 11

by Misty Evans

  Both women stared at him as if he were the devil. Celina clasped her hands. “You’re using Joe as bait.”

  Cooper nodded. “He’s the one person, according to Dupé and Walsh, she’ll run to.”

  Ronni shook her head. “She’ll see that coming a mile away. I’m no genius, and even I’d see that ambush.”

  Celina nodded. “Me, too. Dupé and Walsh are good at their jobs, but they don’t understand women. Especially those who are more intelligent than they are.”

  There was no winning an argument with them, and Cooper sucked on his beer to keep from engaging.

  Celina spoke to Ronni again. “What do you think this web with the terrorists has to do with any of it?”

  “What if Rosenthal stumbled onto something someone didn’t want her to figure out?”

  Celina seemed to really be coming to life now, her earlier sleep deprivation shoved aside. She leaned forward, mirroring Ronni’s posture. “You think she found a link between the bombers that someone inside the Bureau didn’t want her to?”

  Ronni studied the cold fireplace, looking doubtful. “I just think there’s more to this than meets the eye. This woman was brought up by two CIA operatives. Even once her mom left the field and had her, she was part of a counterterrorism analyst group inside Langley. Both spies were hailed as heroes. When they left the east and came here, they continued to consult for the CIA and NSA. Samantha also appears to have been an exceedingly good agent. What would make her snap and turn into a terrorist mastermind?”

  “That’s for the profilers to decide,” Cooper replied. “It can take ten years to mold a terrorist or ten minutes. There was drama and scandal surrounding her and her boss last year. She got the woman fired. She may be a genius, but she could also have a few screws loose.”

  “Connie said there was misconduct between Alison Kendrick and Cahill. It’s one of the reasons he left the Bureau.”

  Celina’s brows shot up and disgust laced her tone. “He had an affair with her boss?”

  “No. From what I understand, Kendrick wanted to but Cahill had no interest in her. He never filed formal charges, but the scuttlebutt is she made regular passes at him. Connie said he should have filed sexual discrimination charges, it was that bad. And everyone knew he was totally head over badge for Sam.”

  Cooper felt like he’d landed in a soap opera.

  Celina tapped her fingers on the coffee table. “This happened while he was in a relationship with Samantha?”

  Ronni nodded.

  “People get crazy when love and sex are involved,” Cooper said absentmindedly. “Maybe that’s why Rosenthal snapped.”

  “I don’t think so.” Ronni stood and stretched. “I verified with Roman that Sam was offered Alison’s position when she was terminated, but Sam turned it down. If she’d been after revenge, don’t you think she would’ve taken it to rub it in her ex-boss’s face?”

  “Not if she was masterminding a terrorist plot,” he countered.

  Celina looked at him as if he were stupid. “Are you kidding me? That’d be the perfect position if she was.”

  He thought about it for a long moment and conceded. “You’re probably right.”

  “I’m always right, and your taskforce needs to do a lot more digging into this terrorist plot. Sounds like there might be some plotting against Sam.”

  He was afraid she was going to say that. “You’re suggesting someone in the Bureau set her up? If we stick our nose in that, we could end up in a world of hurt. I’m the first to weed out bad apples, but I can’t put my taskforce on the line when we have nothing more than theories.”

  Ronni set hands to hips and stared at the coffee table again. “I want to figure out what Samantha found that linked the recent terrorist bombings here in California together.”

  “I want to know more about her and Cahill’s relationship,” Celina said. She looked at Cooper. “You should invite him over. Dinner tomorrow night?”

  Ahh, shit. Cooper dropped his feet, set his bottle down, and slowly rose. “I’ll think about it. I need to sleep on all of this.”

  Celina bounced up, acting as though she’d already had her twelve hours and was ready to go. She clapped her hands together. “Perfect. We’re on it.”

  She moved around and hugged Ronni, before showing her to the door. “Drive safe and be here tomorrow for dinner.”

  Ronni waved at Cooper. “See you at the office, boss.”

  Once she was gone, he dumped the rest of the beer and rinsed the bottle before throwing it in the recycle bin. Celina followed him down the hallway, half-whispering so as not to wake Via. “Don’t tell Roman or Victor about any of this yet, okay?”

  Inside their bedroom, he pulled her close and shut the door behind them. Looking into her eyes, he placed his hands gently on her hips. “I don’t need to remind you that you’re not part of my taskforce anymore, do I?”

  She went on tiptoes, throwing her arms around his neck. Her kiss was hot and deep. “I’ll always be part of it,” she whispered against his lips. “And regardless of your official assignment, you know there’s something fishy about this whole situation. I can help figure it out.”

  God, he loved her. “Let’s get some sleep, Mrs. Harris.”

  She pressed herself more firmly against him. “In a minute,” she said, then started shedding her clothes.

  12

  Sam meant for the kiss to be a thank you. Like the previous day’s had been.

  Her body, however, had other ideas.

  Joe’s lips were warm and inviting. He tasted of tequila and the mustard on his sandwich.

  Everything about him was safe, familiar, welcoming, and although he was holding up both hands as though she were pointing a gun at him, she knew it was only because he didn’t want her to stop. If he touched her, if he deepened the kiss, he might frighten her away.

  She was kissing a hero. A man who put everything on the line for her, not just this time, but previously as well.

  She continued to lean across the table, her hands on his shoulders, her lips parted, encouraging his to do the same.

  Maybe it was the liquor warming her veins, or simply a cog in her brain slipping. She was entitled, wasn’t she? After her life had gone to hell, and spending all this time on the streets with nothing, the whole world thinking she was a terrorist, she deserved this respite. This moment of feeling safe and loved.

  “Sam…?” Joe’s voice, the hesitation in his eyes, made her blink. He wanted confirmation she knew what she was doing. That this was what she really wanted.

  Clarifying that she did, she kissed him hard and deep again.

  Joe finally responded, grabbing her by the back of the neck and locking his lips on hers. Demanding, greedy. Like a starving man, he devoured her mouth, his tongue diving inside and forcing her lips to open even more.

  He’d done so much for her, and now he’d brought her here, agreeing to help her uncover the truth. She owed him everything and she tried to convey it by matching his fervor.

  Ever so slowly, she sucked in his bottom lip and ran her tongue across it. His sharp intake of breath told her he was still as sensitive to her as he’d always been. It was a rush knowing she had this kind of power over him. She hoped she was the only woman who ever had.

  She knew there hadn’t been anyone since her. Not that she’d been stalking him or anything, but she’d kept tabs on him all these months. She’d known even before she left on New Year’s Day he was the only man who would ever hold her heart, but she’d hoped he would eventually move on and find someone…normal. A woman who’d make him happy.

  But secretly, underneath it all, she’d actually hoped he’d never be with anyone but her.

  His hands skimmed her upper arms and he disengaged, setting her back an inch or so. “You don’t have to do that,” he said.

  She felt lightheaded, and tried to convince herself it was simply the alcohol. “Do what?”

  “Act like you owe me something.”

 
; It was a splash of cold water in her face. “You think I’m seducing you because I feel like I owe you?”

  “I have to admit, it’s not your style, but I just want to be clear.”

  She knew she should be insulted, but all she could was laugh. It was so like Joe to call her on her bullshit. “Initially, I kissed you to say thank you, that’s true. But it turned in to more.”

  He grinned. “Of course, it did. No one can resist my charm, especially you. I appreciate the kiss, don’t get me wrong, and if you ever want to resume our relationship,”—he pointed both thumbs upwards—“I could easily be persuaded to. I’m all yours. But there are conditions.”

  She sat back and picked up the last of her sandwich. “What kind?”

  “You kiss me like that again, and the wedding is back on. I don’t care if I have to become a caveman and sling you over my shoulder, you’re mine from that point on, and I’m never letting you go again.”

  “Is that it?”

  A spark of the old Joe surfaced. “That’s just the beginning.”

  She’d missed this. Him. But her heart was too fragile right now to discuss their relationship. The past was over, and she had no future with him. “I’ll take that under consideration.”

  Under his watchful eyes, she polished off the food. “The people who were hurt in the bombing, are they all okay?”

  He looked at her lips for a second, as if regretting the fact he’d rather resume the kiss, but nodded. “Most had minor injuries. Three were more serious, but they’re all out of the hospital and on the mend.”

  She shoved the plate aside. “It could’ve been much, much worse.”

  He worked on his half, nodding. “It’s been three and a half weeks and your trail has gone cold. Maybe whoever killed Kyle was looking for a way to put you in the spotlight again. Make certain people wonder if you were involved.”

  Sam’s stomach flipped. “You’re right.”

  “As long as we’re working on conspiracy theories, seems like that would fit.”

  Her brain was too tired, and she really wanted a peaceful night of rest. “Have they leaked it to the press?”

  Joe checked his phone, and after a minute of searching, clicked off. “Nothing yet.”

  She got up to head to the sink and as she was going by the table, he grabbed her wrist. Not hard or demanding, just making her pause. He took the plate from her hand and set it on the table. “I’m glad you’re here.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “I appreciate the kiss, too. If you have the need to thank me again, feel free.”

  Surprisingly, she laughed. “I have no idea why you’re doing this, helping me, I mean.”

  “Maybe it’s because I believe in you. I always have.”

  “They’re using you, you know.”

  He shifted in the seat, drawing her in to stand between his knees. His beautiful blue eyes stared up at her, and she felt the old tug at her heart. “I’m the one who suggested it.”

  The world tilted. “You volunteered to apprehend me?”

  “It was only a matter of time until they asked me to act as a lure. I figured I might as well offer my superior skills and abilities.”

  “You are so full of yourself.”

  “So are you. Did you really think you could go on the run by yourself, and still prove your innocence with no one helping you?”

  Yeah, a part of her had. “I’ll admit it’s had some challenges.” She felt a new wave of heat in her body that had nothing to do with the tequila and everything to do with Joe’s touch. “I take it you ditched the Marshal keeping an eye on you. Otherwise, Harris and Walsh would probably already be beating down the door.”

  “The Marshals are good at stakeouts, but they suck at tailing people. Besides, the tracking device they put on my car was easy to spot and it’s now on a garbage truck. By the way, I found the second one you left me as well. You didn’t think you’d get away with that, did you?”

  “A girl can hope, can’t she?”

  He took hold of her other wrist, rubbing the delicate skin inside with his thumb. “You’re safe here, I swear. This place is completely off the books. Not even my brothers know about it.”

  The mystery deepened. A part of her wanted to crawl into his lap and lay her head on his shoulder. “I suppose you’re going to be a complete gentleman and give me the bed?”

  “I’m not much of a gentleman, but I’ll take the couch.”

  She wanted to shake her head. She wanted to shake him. “First thing in the morning, I want to dig into both Dupé and Walsh.” At his surprised expression, she continued, “Whoever set all this in motion has to be high up in the chain of command. There are several players between me and them, and I’ll look into them, too, but whoever is the mastermind covered their tracks like an expert. There are plenty of talented people in the West Coast FBI, but not many could pull off anything of this caliber. It has to be someone who appears above reproach. Untouchable. That means they’re at the top.”

  The idea that the director of the West Coast FBI or his counterpart at Homeland could be dirty screwed up his face. “We’ll start first thing tomorrow.”

  Standing this close to him, his fingers wrapped around her wrist and her pulse beating far too fast, she longed to reverse the clock. Longed to go back to a place before she’d known she wasn’t good enough for him.

  For all her education and training, she never would be, regardless of her many accomplishments, commendations, or achievements. Joe was truly a hero, and she could never be worthy of him.

  When she didn’t move, he tugged her closer. She knew it was wrong, but her body defied her brain and she leaned down and kissed him.

  Before she knew it, his arms were around her and he was pulling her into his lap, his hands no longer afraid of touching her. She reveled in the feel of him as he ravished her lips, nipping at her bottom one and trailing kisses across her jaw. He licked her earlobe and kissed down her neck, sweeping her hair out of the way. Her hips ground into his pelvis, and his hands went to them, urging her on.

  As she began to unbutton his shirt, he took advantage of the invitation and lowered his head to her cleavage. Seven months without him had been too long. Despite her current situation, she was so hungry for his touch, for those lips. For his sheer and utter confidence.

  Her shirt and bra came off with ease and landed on the floor. His shirt followed. Once his chest was bare, she pressed against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in the crook of his neck. Her breasts pressed to his chest, and she could feel his heartbeat. He stopped moving, just holding her, as if tuning in to the shared moment.

  The fire between her legs wouldn’t let her rest. She was about to start shifting again, that bulge in his pants teasing her and making her ache, when his phone rang.

  Panting, she jerked back, startled at the noise blasting through the semi-quiet kitchen. They both looked at it, and alarm bells rang in her head, seeing the ID.

  Cooper Harris.

  As if someone hit her with a cattle prod, she jumped off Joe’s lap, scrambling to gather her clothes. “Why is he calling at this time of night?”

  It was actually morning. One to be exact. Joe touched the edge of the cell, but didn’t make a move to pick it up. “No idea.”

  Sam hated the fear in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. “This can’t be good.”

  Joe looked at her with steady eyes and motioned with his free hand for her to relax. “You don’t know that. Let me answer it, okay?”

  Jack-Jack, who’d heard the noise, or maybe simply sensed her agitation, came padding into the kitchen. She slipped on her bra and threw the shirt on over it, before kneeling to pet him.

  “Yeah, this is Cahill,” Joe answered. “What’s up, Agent Harris?”

  Joe put the phone on speaker and Harris’s voice, softer than Sam expected, said, “Sorry to disturb you. Hope you weren’t sleeping.”

  “Nope. Just out driving the streets.”

  Sam thought Harris
sounded as if he was trying not to wake somebody, his deep voice suppressed. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

  “I do some of my best work at night.” Joe winked at her, and she tried not to roll her eyes at his double entendre. “Contrary to popular media, felons on the run rarely walk down the street in the bright light of day.”

  “So true,” Harris said. “Say, do you know anything about a bunch of bombings up and down the coast Rosenthal was investigating before all this went down?”

  Joe frowned and she felt a twinge in her gut. What was Harris looking into that for?

  “Afraid not. Why? What’s that got to do with apprehending our suspect?”

  “Just a hunch I’m working on. The bombings don’t seem to have a lot in common—different locations and perpetrators with no obvious connection, different kinds of bombs. They were all soft targets, but that’s the only similarity. I’m wondering why Rosenthal brought this to the attention of her boss, Frank, and some of the other folks on the counterterrorism team.”

  Sam glanced around hurriedly. She needed a piece of paper and a pen. There was none in obvious sight, but she’d seen a notebook in the office and ran to get it. From the kitchen, she heard Joe say, “Can you send me the list? I can look into it.”

  “I was thinking maybe you could come by tomorrow. Dinner at my house. I have a full day with some of our other cases, but I’d like to talk to you. Get a feel for your ex a little more.”

  Sam hustled back in, writing on the notebook. She had no idea how Harris had discovered this piece of trivia, and maybe it didn’t matter, but she needed Joe to ask the right questions. She held up the notebook for him to read.

  “These bombs.” He squinted at her hasty penmanship. “You said they were soft targets?”

  “Over the course of nine months, they all hit specific places where people were outside. There was a VA hospital opening a new wing, where a bomb was left in a car in the parking lot. It killed three and injured a dozen more gathered outside for the event. Another took place at a Memorial Day celebration. A third one at a mall, at a fundraiser held in the courtyard.” The sound of shuffling papers. “There’s more, and each of them different.”