“Damn,” Liam repeated as he sprinted after her.
Later on, in bed, he remembered the question at the forefront of his mind.
“So what’s Mrs. Dubois like? When she’s not swearing up a storm, that is.”
Kara flipped onto her belly and sighed. “Really nice senior. Living on only her pension. We fought over the few dollars she insisted on paying me today. I’m going back tomorrow to help set up the Christmas lights.” She skimmed her finger down his bare arm, skipping over an old knife scar. “Keeps her house warm, nearly hot as He…” She paused, interrupting herself.
“Just be careful.” Liam gave in to the temptation and slapped her ass, relishing the shocked yelp. “That’s for not telling me where you were going. Next time at least leave a note.”
Kara rubbed the reddening skin and pouted for a second before twisting it up into a devilish smirk. “What do I get for burning dinner?”
He gave her a gentle shove and got out of bed. “A cold shower after I’ve used up all the hot water. Go turn the oven on for the pizza, and maybe I’ll let you in.”
She laughed. “Maybe I’ll be nice and let you in. Again.” She waggled her naked behind as she trotted out of the bedroom, leaving him behind.
Chapter Thirteen
It’d been an interesting few months since Kara had collapsed against his front door and changed his life for the better. Every day he found good deeds to do and every night after work he sought pleasure in Kara’s arms, the two of them rekindling the fire they thought had burned itself out a year ago.
The daily sparring was good, fun—they learned from each other, and it was surprising to find how much he enjoyed it. They’d collapse on the floor, gasping for breath and reveling in the simple basic release. He’d missed this—and it was obvious she did as well. It brought them closer, both exciting and worrying him.
He wasn’t a fool—this wouldn’t go on forever. But it was what it was and right now it was fantastic.
Marie’s continued research didn’t find any links between the mysterious woman at the hotel and other recorded crimes, putting his and Kara’s mind at ease. At least she didn’t have to worry about being hunted down for something more severe than credit card theft.
Liam, on the other hand…
He shook his head as he pulled out of the warehouse parking lot early in the morning, noting the icy roads. The temperature had been dropping consistently during the last week, the light snowstorms a taste of what was to come.
This year he’d be staying warm with more than a space heater to keep him company.
That morning Liam had agreed to meet Kara for breakfast at the cafe, allowing her to treat him to a meal using her own funds. The clean-up job at Mrs. Dubois’s house had generated more business for Kara, through Marie’s word-of-mouth—mostly women looking for one of their own to run personal errands to and from various places in town.
She went to pick up light groceries at the store for the seniors, purchased “intimate” items at the drugstore, and blushed when Liam noted he never got such good tips. But he had to admit it was a good alternative for those in town who felt more comfortable with a woman helping them out.
He pulled into the parking lot and looked up at the gray, ominous clouds hanging over the valley. The temperature was dropping, and the forecast was for snow—a lot of it. The last few storms had been barely enough to cover the ground but everyone in the town were holding their breath, waiting for The Big One.
This could be it.
He rubbed his hands together as he stepped inside the diner.
“She’s here.” The waitress smiled and gestured at the corner booth. “I’ll get you a coffee.”
Liam grinned as he slid in beside Kara, giving her a fast kiss. “I thought I’d beat you here. Don’t tell me you were up all night.”
“No way.” She covered her mouth as a yawn escaped. “I promised Geraldine help putting up the Christmas tree today. She’s opening up an hour earlier, so we can start decorating.”
“Half the town is gone.” He pointed out. “And the other half won’t be visiting the library after that storm hits—they’ll be curled up in bed with a good book.” He squeezed her knee. “Or someone else.”
“Really?” Her innocent smile shot straight to his groin. “What are you going to be reading?”
Liam leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper. “The Karma Sutra. The Joy of Sex. Maybe some of those sexy romances to get ideas. Anything else you’d recommend?”
Her cheeks reddened, and she sat back, relinquishing the battlefield.
The waitress came over for their order before disappearing back into the kitchen to talk to the cook. They were alone in the cafe, a more common occurrence now that the season had shifted.
A shadow split the sunlight coming through the side window of the diner, triggering Liam’s curiosity. He glanced out at the lone figure walking down the street, hands deep in his trench coat.
An invisible sledgehammer slammed into his chest, forcing the air from his lungs in a single, low groan.
No.
He put his arm around Kara’s shoulder and pulled her close as the door swung open, admitting the stranger. A cold breeze shot through the diner as Liam pulled the elastic off his ponytail with a swift yank, letting his hair fall over his face as he nuzzled Kara’s ear.
The man sat down at the counter and spoke in a low, measured voice. He flipped open his leather trench coat and pulled off his leather gloves, nodding as the waitress read the order back to him.
She passed the slip of paper to the cook before pouring a cup of coffee for the stranger, a man with short black hair and a strong, square jaw.
He wasn’t a stranger to Liam.
His heart raced as the scout looked directly at them, scouring the couple with an intense gaze. A cold, greasy ball of fear rolled around his stomach as Liam leaned back, keenly aware of the pistol digging into the small of his back.
Only yesterday he considered leaving the pistol behind, putting it back in the shoe box under his bed. Now he was extremely glad he went with his gut and kept it at hand.
“Laugh,” he ordered Kara.
She went to turn toward him, mouth opening to question his request, but his fingers held her still.
“Giggle.” He put all he had into the single word, knowing it could make the difference between a shootout in the middle of the diner or a chance to get away.
Kara gave a high-pitched laugh as he kissed her cheek, taking up the game. Liam moved his lips along her jawline, glancing every few seconds through his long hair at the man sitting at the counter.
The faux-making out continued until the waitress returned with the plastic bag holding the disposable container of food, refilling the customer’s takeout coffee before taking payment.
The man stood and gave them one last inspection before nodding to the woman and walking out with his food.
“Fuck,” Liam whispered into Kara’s neck.
“I’m assuming you’re saying that in a different context.” She cleared her throat. “What’s wrong?”
Liam tugged his hair back into a pony tail as the waitress approached with their meals. “Just remembered I left the keys in the truck.” He forced a smile. “Got all excited about having breakfast with you and forgot them in the ignition.”
She gave a soft laugh. “Worried about car thieves? I thought you said everyone in the Ridge was cool.”
“Yeah, well…don’t want to tempt fate.” He rose from the table, fully aware his target was on the move. “I’ll be back.” Liam gave her a fast kiss before grabbing his jacket and bolting for the door, knowing he was leaving her mad and confused. He would deal with the consequences later.
If they survived.
Kara stared at the cooling eggs on her partner’s plate, her stomach churning.
Something was wrong.
She’d watched him rush out of the diner, but instead of stopping by the pickup truck, he’d continued on into the
nearby alley—almost at a flat-out run. No hesitation, no looking back at the diner, no signal of what he was doing.
Her teeth ached as she realized how hard she’d been gritting them, the anger and confusion at being left behind boiling up inside her. After all this time, all these months together…
The waitress came over and refilled Kara’s coffee. “Everything okay, sweetie?” She studied the abandoned meal, the cold cup of coffee sitting in wait.
“Sure.” Kara forced a smile. “Jack had to go do something. He’ll be right back.”
April laughed. “He’s a darling. How ’bout I take this, put a plate over them so they’ll still be warm when he gets back? Or I can get Dave to make them up again—no problem there.”
“Sure,” Kara acquiesced. “Let’s do that. Thanks.”
As the waitress hustled the cooling bacon and eggs into the back, Kara cupped her mug in both hands, trying to calm the panic building in her belly. For some reason Liam lied and left—after what she thought was a little roleplaying, the order to laugh echoing in her ears.
Did I miss something?
Kara wracked her memory, searching for a reason for Liam’s strange reaction and departure and finding none.
She dug in her pocket and threw down a few bills before finishing off her coffee.
She wasn’t about to let this go without an explanation. And it better be a hell of a good one.
Chapter Fourteen
The Ridge’s back alleys were old friends, familiar enough he could travel through them blindfolded. He hung back, keeping an eye on the scout—odds were good the man was heading for the one hotel still open at this time of year.
His guess was confirmed when the newcomer walked through the front door of Smith’s Inn, the thick wooden door swinging shut behind him with a thud. Liam headed for the back entrance, slipping in through the unlocked steel door.
“Hey, Jack!” Tony, the cleaner, smiled as Liam made his way through the maze of access corridors. The older man wore the official hotel uniform—black pants, white dress shirt with a black blazer, his name written above the breast pocket in red script. “Got no extra work for you today—place is pretty empty, aside from the usual suspects.”
“Just checking in.” Liam jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Thought I saw someone come in the front, carrying takeout from the diner. You got some snowstorm chasers?”
Tony laughed. “Oh, that guy. Arrived about an hour ago in the black Charger, the one in the parking lot. Come in for one of those corporate retreats, early arrival.”
Liam tried to sound casual, pushing down the fear bubbling up from his gut. “Right. I remember a group from last year. Hang out in the lobby, go snowshoeing when they’re not doing those bonding exercises.”
“Yep. Not them this time, some other corporation looking to have some alone time for their executives.” He shrugged. “As long as they don’t cause trouble for the long-term renters on the third floor. The company’s the only one scheduled for the weekend, so we can handle it. At least, that’s what Jamie says.” He gave a nonjudgmental grunt. “You want to talk to him? He’s working the main desk.”
“Sure. Thanks.” Liam hung back in the hall long enough to be sure the scout had time to go up to his room before he headed to the front of the building.
Jamie Bomster was a tall, thin man, the third generation to work the business. He’d left the Ridge for a business degree and returned older and wiser, taking over from his father, who sported the same bright red hair.
He smiled as Liam approached, tugging at the bottom of his vest. He always wore the same dark green vest and white dress shirt, no matter what the weather or time of year.
“Jack. How’s it going?”
“Fine.” Liam leaned on the desk, forcing himself to slow down and act as casual as possible despite his racing heart. “Got a few extra minutes, and thought I’d stop by. Just wondering how things were settling down for the winter.”
Jamie glanced to one side, at the nearby desk filled with papers. “Might need another run for firewood. Got a group coming in later today and I’d like to set up the fireplace in the main lounge for them to hang out in—I usually don’t bother, but city folks love that sort of rustic touch and these guys are paying extra, so…”
Liam let out a low whistle. “Extra at this time of year? Good catch on your part.”
Jamie nodded. “Last minute reservation. Played a little hard-to-get but gave in when they flashed the cash. Just like my father taught me.”
“He’d be impressed, I’m sure,” Liam said, rolling with the conversation even as he wanted to drag the young man across the counter and interrogate him. “Who’s the company?”
“Ah…” Jamie looked at his computer screen. “Janus Industries. Never heard of them, but not surprising. Called yesterday, said their regular place overbooked and they wanted to come here.” He spread his hands. “Wasn’t going to turn that down. Accepted their electronic deposit and now just waiting for them to arrive. Only seven of them coming in for their retreat but booked all of the top floor, every darned room to make sure they’d have total privacy. Already warned the diner they might end up making deliveries by snowshoe.”
Liam returned the grin. “Still don’t understand that. Rushing here to be snowed in and cut off from the world.”
“These businessmen want to escape the cell phones and the online noise. It’s what we offer and what they want.” Jamie eyed the stack of papers nearby. “Got to go back to work. But I’ll call if we need any help.”
“I’ll be around.” Liam retreated to the back, careful to avoid Tony on the way out—he wasn’t in any mood for more small talk.
It took the last of his reserve to walk out the back door, fighting the urge to run until he got out of sight of any of the top hotel floor windows. The last thing he needed was for McKay to look out the window and see a man sprinting down the street.
The Sons of Cain had come to the Ridge.
The mercenary group didn’t do retreats, didn’t do vacations. What they did do was hunt down their targets, the high-priced killers noted for a perfect success rate.
He turned down the sidewalk toward the diner, his head spinning as he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, the frosty air chilling his lungs.
Was he the target? Was Kara involved somehow, her arrival part of their plan?
The thought stopped him still in his tracks.
No.
The Sons didn’t work that way. If they knew where he was, they’d break down the apartment door and kill him, not toss an amnesiac woman from his past into his life. They were paid to assassinate people, not play psychological games. The faster they killed their target, the better—they didn’t earn more for stretching out the catch.
There was no way Kara was involved with the Sons, at least not voluntarily. Period, full stop.
Liam rubbed his chin, scratching through the dark beard.
Wait.
There was another option. It was crazy, but a possibility he couldn’t ignore.
Another target. If true, it’d change the way he’d deal with the professional killers. He might be the only one able to get their target to safety. Marie was good, but she and Dwayne would be hopelessly, horribly outgunned and outmanned if he told them about the Sons—along with all the questions his revelation would create. They’d call for outside help and if he knew anything about the Sons, he knew they didn’t have any qualms about killing civilians to finish the mission and escape capture.
No, this was something he’d have to do on his own.
It beat the hell out of carrying firewood and digging out clogged gutters.
His breath came in short, measured puffs as he charged toward the diner.
But who? Who could they be here for?
He mentally ran through a list of the people in town, finding no one he thought would be a suitable target for the mercenary group. Except for the fact that if he could keep secrets, others could.
&nbs
p; Only one way to find out who the Sons were here for.
To say Kara was pissed would be an understatement. She was beyond pissed, at a whole new level of annoyance she couldn’t even begin to describe.
The cold, bitter wind cut through her as she headed for the apartment, her rage growing with each step. The icy patches on the sidewalk slowed her down as she tried to keep the balance between her rage and safety.
By the time she used her spare key to open the apartment door, she was frozen and mad as hell.
Odds were half the town would hear they were fighting by lunchtime, given his abrupt abandonment. Rumors would start about why and who and how and she was sure Geraldine’s gossip train was chugging along at full force creating love triangles, quadrangles, whatever sounded the craziest.
She balled her hands into fists as she pushed the door open and stuffed her keys back into her jacket pocket.
The wet footprints on the front carpet were fresh and matched Liam’s boots.
That son of a…
She paused, listening. A thump came from down the hall, a muttered curse she recognized immediately. Kara headed down the hall, scowling as she went.
What the hell is going on?
Kara walked into the bedroom to see Liam fumbling with an old steamer trunk, dragged out from the closet. She’d given the antique a cursory glance before, saw the lock and let it be. She assumed it was part of his past and, therefore, off-limits.
He looked at her briefly before turning back to the trunk, working the combination lock holding it shut.
“What are you doing?” She fought to keep her voice down below a scream.
“I’m looking for something.” He kept his head down. “Sorry about the diner. Hope breakfast was good.”
That throwaway comment threw more gasoline on the fire.
“I told them to put yours on hold. Guess you won’t be going back.”
His answering grunt chewed on her last nerve, bit it right through. He undid the lock, pulled it free, and tossed it to one side before opening the trunk.
“Wait. Are you going to kill someone? That guy who came into the diner?” She blurted out the first thought coming to the forefront.
Warrior Nights Page 10
