Cat Got Your Tongue?

by Rae Rivers

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Cole and I discovered that his Renoir was at the museum the day before the heist.”

  Eddie tilted his head. “And?”

  “Well, I find it odd that there’s suddenly a renewed interest in the museum and that someone is after paintings with the same value of the paintings that were stolen from the museum. Someone broke into Cole’s house to steal the Renoir and almost killed him. Then they returned to start a fire and today, they tried to Hummer-smash him into oblivion. It’s all related and it’s all about those missing paintings. You know it. I know it. What I want to know though is why they’re after my shield? Why not just take the damn Renoir and leave him alone?”

  Something about Eddie’s silence, his expression, had her stop and take notice. A shiver of apprehension ran down her spine. Alex set her beer on the kitchen counter and turned to face him, her hands on her hips.

  “Spill it, Eddie.” Her tone was stern, unrelenting, and he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Tell me what you know.”

  “The messenger always gets shot,” he complained and went into the living room.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He headed to the corner of the room that housed a dilapidated desk with a brand new laptop—an odd combination of old and new. “Once I show you the reason why I’ve been calling you for the past hour, you ain’t going to be so friendly anymore.”

  “I was never friendly to begin with. Show me what you got.”

  He opened the laptop. “Just remember, Alex. I’m only the messenger.”

  “What is this?”

  “A brief recorded voice clip about you and Cole.” He punched a few keys on the keyboard and waited for the screen to open. “Recorded from a cell phone so the sound is sketchy but clear enough to hear you’ve lost the popularity contest.”

  “Where did you get it?” she asked, a fierce combination of emotions brewing within her.

  “It was couriered to me late this afternoon.”

  “From who?”

  He shrugged. “Your fairy godmother. Or father,” he added. He increased the volume and started the voice recording.

  Two male voices, unwavering and void of emotion, echoed through the room and resonated against the walls.

  “They’re back in the city.”

  “Did she find anything?”

  “Doubt it.”

  “But she’s looking. That’s enough. It’s only a matter of time before she’s onto us.”

  “I think she already is, sir.”

  “Fix it.”

  “What about the situation with Cole?”

  “Take care of him.”

  “And Alex?”

  “Same. Take care of them both.”

  There was a grunt of agreement and the recording ended.

  Alex gaped at the screen, fresh fear and adrenaline starting their familiar dance within her. She stepped back, eyeing the offending laptop with a harsh frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Dunno. But I doubt they were talking about asking you for

  dinner.”

  She blew out her breath, trying to keep a tight rein on her panic. “What do you make of this?”

  He shoved back his chair and waved an airy hand. “Their intentions aren’t clear, but it’s enough to know you’d better watch your own back as well as Cole’s. The fact that you’ve botched three of their attempts on Cole has made you a target too.” He gave a grunt of disapproval and reached for his beer.

  Alex’s stomach lurched as a wave of nausea washed through her. “Who are these people?”

  “Clearly not a fan.”

  She silenced him with a glare. “They’ve been watching us. What the hell do they want?”

  Eddie ejected the disk and handed it to her. “The paintings. Just don’t know why they’ve marked the billionaire.”

  “I still haven’t figured out if they want him harmed or simply warned.” If it was a warning they wanted, they were coming on strong.

  She’d known Cole was in danger, but this was different. He was somehow involved in this mess, and it frustrated her that she couldn’t figure out precisely what that involvement was. Now that she’d discovered how dangerous it could be for him, she found herself in unknown territory. The bodyguard in her and the woman in her were divided. The bodyguard felt rage and a fierce determination to protect. The woman in her felt pure horror at the thought of losing him.

  Somehow, this had become more than just missing paintings, burning living rooms, and a murdered shield.

  This was about Cole.

  What that meant for her remained unclear as the nausea took its awful grip. Breathless, she turned away from Eddie.

  “Alex?”

  She waved a dismissive hand and headed for the bathroom. “I’m fine.”

  But she wasn’t and it took several minutes to regain her composure and put a tight lid on her emotions. She’d have to deal with the emotions later, but for now, it was enough to keep her armor in place.

  “You okay?” Eddie asked when she returned.

  Hell no. “Yes.” She sank into the couch, weary and exhausted. “I have to get back to my shield.”

  She had mixed emotions about seeing Cole again. All she needed was to feel his strong arms around her, to know he was safe, but facing him meant facing his inevitable wrath she’d receive when she walked through the door.

  “He’s more than just a shield, isn’t he?” Eddie asked quietly.

  Alex refused to meet his eyes, afraid he’d see the truth in hers. “He’s a good man and my client.” She slipped the disk into her bag. “For now, it’s still business.”

  Liar.

  “Yeah, whatever you say.”

  “Will you try tracing the person who sent you the disk?”

  Eddie nodded. “Of course. It seems like there are still a couple of cronies that side with your mother. They probably did this for her more than for you.”

  “I’ll bake them a Christmas cake.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, right. You wouldn’t even find the damn kitchen.”

  Alex’s shoulders relaxed for the first time that night and she gave him a small smile. She slipped her bag over her shoulders and headed for the back door. Opening it, she did a quick scan of the area outside before turning back to face him. “Thanks, Eddie.”

  He nodded. “You take care of yourself and Cole. I’d hate to hear that some thug was smarter than you.”

  “None of those thugs are smarter than me, Eddie,” she scoffed and slipped silently out of the back door and into the darkness.

  ****

  “Stop pacing,” Dan said without looking up from his laptop at the kitchen table.

  Cole released a frustrated breath and massaged his temples. “What else am I supposed to do, Dan? Alex is missing. Missing, dammit.”

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “How the hell can you be so cool with the fact that it’s almost eleven and she’s still missing?”

  God, he had such a headache and felt so wired with anger, anxiety, and adrenaline that he wanted to hit something. It had been several hours since Alex had pulled her stunt at Max’s office. He’d tried calling her more than a dozen times but only got her voicemail. He swore if he ever saw her alive again, he was going to carry out his threat and truly throttle her.

  Dan gave Cole a weary look. “I’m not cool with it, Cole, but she’s trained for this and she’s good at what she does. She’ll be back as soon as it’s safe for her to do so.” If he was worried, he didn’t show it.

  “Just you saying that makes me realize how ridiculous it is that we’re here. At home. We should be out looking for her.”

  “We have no idea where she is. She’ll make contact when she can,” Dan said and got to his feet. He’d been the one to bring Cole home and had almost had to use sheer force to do so. His brown eyes and sagging shoulders reflected his exhaustion. “Because she’s never been in my bed, I see it differently from what
you do.”

  The kitchen door swung open, cutting off Cole’s abrupt reply. He turned and drew in a jagged breath as an ocean of conflicting emotions raced through him. Alex hesitated in the doorway, splattered with dried blood, pale, and exhausted.

  Relief flooded him and he lurched forward, closing the space that separated him from Alex with three large strides, and pulled her into his arms. God, his imagination had soared after she’d sped away on her own.

  They clung to each other as though their lives depended on it—and perhaps, unknowingly, it did.

  Alex pulled away first and looked at him. “Are you okay?”

  He was now. “Yes.” He had hit his forehead, but the wound was minor and with a shower and a fresh change of clothes, his injuries were hardly visible. He held her at arm’s length and gave her a brief once-over to reassure himself that she was fine. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded.

  “God, Alex, where the hell have you been?” Dan came up behind her and drew her into his arms. His eyes met Cole’s and a brief look of relief passed between them.

  “I went to see Eddie Jones,” she replied, stepping back.

  “What the hell for?”

  “Because he’s been a valuable source of information for me lately, and I thought he could shed some light on what happened today.” She withdrew a disk from her bag and loaded it into her partner’s computer.

  “What’s with the disk?”

  “Some of Eddie’s light,” she said and followed up with a brief explanation before starting the recording.

  Cole’s temper flared as he heard the male voices booming through his kitchen. He flicked a glance at Alex, hovering over the computer. The tension he saw in her poise made him frown.

  “They’re back in the city.”

  “Did she find anything?”

  “Doubt it.”

  “But she’s looking. That’s enough. It’s only a matter of time before she’s onto us.”

  “I think she already is, sir.”

  “Fix it.”

  “What about the situation with Cole?”

  “Take care of him.”

  Alex stopped the recording, ejected the disk, and returned it to her bag. She went to the fridge for a bottle of water, popped the lid, and drank greedily. “Eddie tried to call me to give me the heads up, but I lost my phone.”

  That would explain the voicemail.

  “Besides the Renoir, what the hell do they want?” Cole asked through clenched teeth.

  Alex took a deep breath, her adrenaline long gone, leaving the crippling aftereffects of absolute exhaustion. “I think this is all tied up in the heist that took place fifteen years ago at the Taylor Museum.”

  “What has the heist got to do with Cole?” Dan asked, looking at Alex as though she’d gone mad.

  “We discovered today that Cole’s Renoir was on loan at the museum the day before the heist occurred.” Alex shrugged out of her jacket, threw it on the counter behind her, and looked at Cole. “Have you heard from Gustav Minola?”

  “Yes. Both the Monet and the Renoir were on loan for the exhibition.”

  Alex didn’t seem surprised. “Two paintings, two wealthy men, and both paintings are linked to the museum.”

  “I’m a little confused, Alex,” Dan said. “What tree are you barking up?”

  Alex gave a weak smile. “The theory is that the museum burglary was done by amateurs who pulled pieces at random, ignorant of each painting’s worth. I suspect they were working off a specific shopping list by a collector who was the mastermind behind this whole plan.”

  She’d mentioned her theory to Cole on the weekend and he nodded in recognition. “So how do I fit into this?”

  Gathering her messy hair, she pinned it above her head with a clip she’d produced from her bag. “It’s your painting. The Renoir and the Monet were on loan at the museum’s exhibition the day before the robbery. I reckon both paintings were on that shopping list too, but were left behind.”

  “But why?”

  “The paintings were on display the day of the exhibition and would’ve been moved to the basement safe for storage until they could be delivered to their rightful owners the following day. When the cats went in, they either couldn’t find the two paintings or couldn’t crack the safe.”

  “And now they’ve come back for the paintings,” Cole murmured as understanding dawned.

  Alex nodded. “The shopping list is back out and the collector wants those paintings on his list.”

  “To add to the other ten stolen paintings they took from the museum that night.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if those paintings are still missing,” Alex said. “Eddie told me the museum’s name was being tossed about lately. He also heard there’s an order for several paintings worth two hundred million. That’s the same value—”

  “As the estimated value of the missing loot,” Cole finished, his interest sparked. Hell, he was impressed she’d started to piece all this together.

  Alex rubbed the bridge of her nose, her expression ripe with frustration. “I haven’t figured it all out yet. This is the first time in years there’s been any kind of interest in those stolen paintings.” She stood up and walked to the kitchen counter, mulling it over in her mind. Turning, she glanced at Cole. “I know it’s about the paintings, but I don’t know what they have against you.”

  Cole shoved his hands into his jean pockets and gave a brief shrug. “They’ve figured out that we’re onto something so it would make sense for them to want me out of the picture. My involvement could bring a lot of unwanted attention and publicity to something they’d rather not openly advertise.”

  “We’ll have to bring Sullivan up to speed with this,” Dan told them and shifted his gaze to Cole. “And we’ll have to increase your security, Cole.”

  Cole nodded. “I would appreciate your help.” He frowned at Alex. “You, on the other hand, are so fired.”

  Both agents stared at him in surprise.

  “Dan,” he continued, “I’m replacing you as my bodyguard.” Dan had already told him earlier in the evening that he was available. “You have the clearance to do whatever the heck you need to do to keep these guys away from us and out of my damn house.”

  Alex’s eyes widened and she gaped at him. “Cole!”

  “For starters,” Dan said, flashing Alex a cautious look, “I think the Renoir should be moved to a safer location. It’s public knowledge that it’s still here.”

  “We’ll discuss it tomorrow. Charles will show you to a room on the third floor. We’ll meet with Sullivan in the morning.”

  Without looking at Alex, he felt her temper flare. But that was fine with him as his temper was primed and stroked, ready for a challenge only she could provide.

  “Cole!” Alex cried, stepping forward. “What the hell are you doing?”

  He pinned her with a steely glare. “That crap you pulled today was not cool, Alex.”

  “But it worked, didn’t it? That crap as you call it means you’re safe.”

  “I admit you are good at what you do, Alex. I just don’t want you doing it for me anymore.”

  “I—”

  Dan stepped between them, holding up a hand. “She did what she had to do, Cole. Cut her some slack.”

  “I don’t appreciate—” Alex said.

  “And I don’t appreciate being locked behind a damn security door while my woman goes all Lara Croft on me,” Cole interrupted, his voice rising.

  Dan was quick to jump to her defense. “You hired her to—”

  “Act as a buffer between me and the public,” Cole finished. “I don’t need a female version of Rambo fighting my battles for me, dammit.”

  “I think—” Alex tried again but Dan cut her off.

  “That’s precisely why you can’t work for him, Alex. He thinks of you as his woman, not his bodyguard.”

  “Butt out, Dan,” Cole warned.

  “I’m only saying—”

  “
Stop it!” Alex yelled, jamming her hands onto her hips.

  Both men froze and turned to stare at her.

  “This jackass,” she shouted, waving a hand in Cole’s direction, “barely knows me so may not know this yet, but you,” she jabbed a finger at Cole, “know that I will not be muzzled! Don’t you dare treat me like some dimwit woman in over her head. You jerks didn’t even know what was going down until I filled you in.”

  “Alex,” Dan said softly, taking a step toward her but she held out her palm, stopping him.

  “I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. Now that you’re in charge, you get to secure the house.” With a final glare at Cole, she grabbed her bottle of water and stormed out the kitchen.

  “I’ll go talk to her,” Dan said.

  Cole shook his head and blew out a breath. “No. I’ll handle Alex, you handle my security.”

  As he straightened, his eye caught Alex’s bag on the table beside him. Not one for snooping, he would normally have ignored it, but the disk of the voice recording peeked out through the opening of the bag, sparking his interest. He eyed it with a deep frown as suspicion settled in his gut. Reaching for it, he shoved the disk into the computer, and replayed the taped conversation.

  “Oh, God,” he mumbled as they listened to the recording again. Cole pushed back the chair with such force that it toppled backward and crashed to the floor. “Dammit, she cut the recording short. It’s not just me they want. They’re after her too.”

  And she hadn’t said a word.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cole wasn’t surprised to find Alex’s door locked.

  He retreated to his room, opened the drawer of the nightstand beside his bed, and removed a set of master keys. He returned to her room and a moment later, he shut the door behind him, locking it.

  She was in the shower and he paused before going into the bathroom, trying to steady himself. He’d been simmering with heated anger all evening—anger aimed directly at her. Now, outside her bathroom door, his anger had subsided, replaced by a sense of fierce protectiveness that wrenched at his gut. Her life was on the line—and only because she’d stuck her neck out to save his. And what had he done? Fired her, threatened her, and treated her like shit.