Face of Danger

by Roxanne St Claire

  Home was the Rossi family—where she and Zach had been wedged with just a little bit of force-fitting.

  Although home also held some dark memories. The Taylors may have moved out sometime in the last ten years, but the ghosts remained. A road sign indicating the miles to the neighboring town of Concord caught her attention, and those ghosts made a quick mental reappearance.

  It had happened the night they played Concord-Carlisle High. Like it was yesterday, she could hear the echo of her cheerleading sneakers on varnished wood. The roar of the crowd when Kenny Taylor scored for Lincoln Sudbury High School. Kenny Taylor, he’s our man…. If he can’t do it… nobody can.

  And he’d wanted to do it, all right. That night, a little drunk, a little mean, a little rough. The skirt, the panties, the thin arms of a dancer were no deterrent to him.

  You asked for it in that cheer-skirt.

  Her stomach turned.

  “Nobody home, huh?”

  She turned to him, blanking out, a million miles and sixteen years away. “What?”

  “Unless your uncle Nino drives a brand-new red Mustang or—Jesus, is that purple thing a ’sixty-eight GTO?”

  She let out a squeal, her hand on the door before he’d even pulled into the familiar drive. “The Mustang’s Chessie’s, but—oh my God—let me out of this car! Gabe’s home!”

  The second he stopped she practically flung herself out. She hadn’t seen her cousin in nearly two years; his life in the very hidden world of black ops kept him underground even on the rare occasion when he was actually in the States.

  Before she was halfway down the driveway, the bright red front door of the Colonial opened and Uncle Nino ambled out, his brows drawn over fierce dark eyes, his thinning gray hair uncombed, his body language looking like he would use those meat-hook hands of his to kill anyone who took a step farther.

  “It’s me, Nino! It’s Vivi!” She half ran to him, and watched his wrinkled old face change from distrust to joy.

  “Viviana! What the hell?”

  She flipped at the hair. “Undercover. Movie star. Is Gabe here or did someone just bring his car out of storage?”

  She gave him a cursory hug, but his return was much tighter, holding her back pretty effectively, considering he was eighty-something years old.

  He opened his mouth to answer, then looked over her shoulder, scowling.

  “You know Colton Lang, Uncle Nino. He’s a client. He’s—”

  “Gabe won’t like it.”

  “So he is here?” She wiggled out of his hands. “It’s okay, Lang’s with me.” She looked over her shoulder at Lang. “You need Nino’s clearance, but I’m going in.” She pushed passed the older man and jogged through the door.

  And there he was, glorious, gorgeous, and grinning like Wile E. Coyote.

  “Oh my God!” She shrieked so loud it could have broken the chandelier, bringing Lang storming into the house behind her. But she was already being scooped and swooped around by a pair of beastly arms, her cheeks bussed by familiar scratchy whiskers.

  “Gabriel Rossi, I love you!”

  “Shhhh!” He gave her a squeeze, his amazing muscles almost cracking her back. “No one is supposed to know I’m here.”

  “Well, I brought an FBI agent along, so if that is a problem, you better let me know.”

  Out of her peripheral vision she saw Lang reholster his gun. Gabe saw it, too, his laser blue gaze slicing Nino. “You suck donkey balls as a bodyguard, old man.” He took Vivi by the shoulders and inched her away, revealing his always impressive build barely contained in a white T-shirt. “Don’t hire Nino for your company. He couldn’t keep a fly off shit.”

  She just laughed. “But you’re not available.”

  “I am now,” he said. “And I’m better looking.”

  Nino snorted, but Vivi almost jumped out of her skin again. “You left the company? The one that—”

  He put a hand over her mouth. “Hush, little cousin. I’m still living covert at the moment. And, buddy, please tell me that you are not a federal officer trying to locate me.”

  Lang eyed him harshly. “What are you wanted for?”

  “Nothing,” Vivi interjected. “This is my cousin Gabe Rossi, who prefers not to be recognized, remembered, photographed, or interrogated. So go easy on him. Gabe, this is Assistant Special Agent in Charge Colton Lang.”

  Gabe gave the look right back, only with a secret glimmer in his sky blue eyes. “FBI? Vivi, we gotta improve your taste in men.” Then he grinned again. “Just kidding, dawg. Chessie mentioned you were a client.”

  “Chessie?”

  “In here!” Chessie called from the kitchen. “Hard at work for the Guardian Angelinos.”

  Vivi sniffed. “Smells like you’re hard at work on Nino’s peppers and eggs.” She looked up at Gabe. “Does Aunt Fran know you’re home? You know they’d fly up in a heartbeat.”

  “Only Nino and Chessie,” he said, adding his easy smile when he looked at his grandfather. “Don’t sweat it, buddy. I can’t hide from the family forever. It’s only a matter of time till my gig is up and I have to go legit.”

  “What’s going on?” Vivi asked.

  “I do contract work for the CIA,” he explained to Lang. “Some of those contracts are kind of drying up.”

  “Because the work that was being done was never supposed to be outsourced,” Lang said. “I’ve read about it. Evidently the CIA’s in some hot water for using some, shall we say, outside-the-envelope consultants.”

  Vivi gave an apologetic shrug. “It’s a family curse.”

  “Hell yeah it is,” Gabe said. “Shit’s gotta get done. And some of the federal agencies aren’t always willing to do what’s gotta be done, if you catch my drift.”

  “I’m just so glad you’re home,” Vivi said, curling her arm through Gabe’s.

  “I’m not,” Gabe said. “I’m in limbo. Nothing to do, not sure if there’ll be work, not really in trouble—the higher-ups are—but I could be called in for interrogation.”

  “So why was Nino trying to keep us out?” Lang asked pointedly.

  “I told him I don’t want to see anybody until I get some word from on high. It’s cool, man.” Gabe guided Vivi toward the heart of the house, the oversize kitchen and family room, passing the staircase lined with dozens of family pictures on the way. “What the fuck is on your head, Viv?”

  Behind her, she heard Nino mumble, “He swears too much, but he’s a good kid.”

  Next to her, Gabe pulled her closer. “You work for this guy?”

  “Sometimes he’s a client.”

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to get your meat where you get your bread?”

  She froze and pushed him away. “I’m not sleeping with him.” Not technically. Not yet.

  “Then why was he ready to kill me when you screamed you loved me?”

  “Because Nino acted so weird and I…” She hesitated, her head filled with the tangy smell of Nino’s caramelized onions and the dizzy sensation that Lang might actually be jealous. “Really?”

  “Chessie told me a little about this job you’re on—hope you don’t mind. Sounds intriguing.”

  “You told him?” Vivi turned the corner to find Chessie behind two different laptops she had set on the long granite counter where Vivi had eaten so many breakfasts and watched Uncle Nino cook so many dinners.

  “He tortured it out of me like the dangerous spook we all know he is.” She bounded around to hug Vivi and check out her movie-star looks. “This is an interesting look for you, Vivi.”

  “You look smokin’,” Gabe said. “You ought to try makeup and a hairbrush more often, V.”

  “Screw you,” Vivi said, nudging Chessie aside so she could see what was on the computers. “What are you working on?”

  “RE Global,” she said.

  Lang and Nino followed them into the kitchen, close enough to have heard the exchange. “You told her?” Lang asked her.

  Chessie’s eyes—the on
ly ones in the family that matched Gabe’s crystal blues—widened guiltily. “Sorry, Vivi.”

  “No need to apologize.” Vivi warded off Lang’s disapproval with a wave. “Look, the Guardian Angelinos aren’t just my co-workers, they’re family. Everyone here is utterly trustworthy and you know damn well Chessie’s a hacker without equal. What’d you find, kiddo?”

  “An address in Lowell,” Chessie said.

  “An address for what?” Lang asked, joining Vivi in front of one of the computers.

  “I thought it was an office of RE Global,” Chessie said, “but it looks like a private home. I found the address deep in the code of their Web site.”

  Vivi gave him a smug look. “That’d take the FBI a week to find. If they found it.”

  To his credit, he didn’t argue. “Can you zoom in on Google Earth?”

  “I tried,” Chessie said, “but the location is one of those that only goes so far with satellite images.”

  “It’s not far,” Gabe said. “Let’s go check it out. I’m dying to give the Goat a spin.” He picked up the keys to his classic hot rod, shaking them.

  Lang didn’t nix the idea outright, but turned the computer for a closer inspection of the location just as Vivi’s phone vibrated with a text.

  “Unknown caller,” she said, reading the message. Lang shifted closer to read over her shoulder. And torment her with his clean, had-to-be-Ralph-Lauren scent.

  Where the hell did you go in the plane? Vivi read, her heart tripping. “Could this be from Cara? How would she know we took the plane?”

  “We spies are everywhere,” Gabe said.

  “Well it’s not Marissa’s number,” Vivi said, scrolling through her phone to check.

  “Maybe the Bureau could trace it or triangulate it,” Lang said. “Doubtful we could get much more than an idea of where the tower is. Nothing specific.”

  Gabe snorted in disdain. “Feds. What good are they?”

  Chessie held out her hand. “Give me your SIM card, Vivi. I have some tricks.” Chessie looked over Vivi’s head to grin at Lang. “None of them are legal, so this would be a good time for you and Gabe to leave.”

  “Just get the information, no questions asked,” Lang said.

  Vivi beamed at him. “Welcome to the dark side, my friend.”

  “Yeah,” Gabe said. “You’ll like it over here. And I can get a location on that number, if you want. If it’s Cara’s phone, you’ll have her.”

  “Do I want to know how?” Lang asked.

  “Doubtful,” Gabe said with a laugh.

  Nino loaded plates with eggs, onions, and peppers, the aroma filling the air. “Don’t wage the war over good versus evil on an empty stomach,” Nino said, serving them all. “Mangia.”

  Gabe had his fork in the food before the plate hit the granite. “This is beast, Nino. And, hell, there’s nothing that gives me an appetite like tempting Feds with our evil ways.”

  Vivi put a loving arm on Gabe’s shoulder. “You’re going to make the best Guardian Angelino, you know that? When can you start?”

  “Don’t tempt me, V.”

  “How close to the exact location could you get on that phone?” Lang asked him.

  “How close do you want to get?” Gabe replied. “A lesser man with lousy connections, the county.” He took a lusty bite of eggs and grinned while he chewed. “Me? I could get you the block, house number, and probably the color of her underwear.”

  Lang considered him thoughtfully, then nodded.

  For some reason, that little break of the rules just folded Vivi’s heart in half. She studied Lang from the side as he ate, a familiar ache in her heart. Everywhere, actually.

  She wanted him so much. And last night, if she had just said the words, she could have had him. But she’d lain there silent, letting old demons keep her cold and alone. How long would she let Kenny Taylor win that war?

  She pushed her plate away and gave Nino an apologetic look. “It’s been a crazy week, so I’m not hungry.” She needed to face these demons, now. “I’m just going to go out for some air.”

  “I’d come with you, but I’m busy breaking the law,” Chessie said, her fingers tapping the keyboard.

  “That’s okay,” Vivi replied. “I just want to see if… anything’s changed out here.”

  “Doc Taylor moved out,” Gabe called out, a tease in his voice.

  Damn him. But, then, he wouldn’t know. It was her fault, of course, for not telling anyone. But if she had, Ken Taylor would be a dead man. And while that wouldn’t bother her very much, she’d hate to have to visit her brother in prison.

  “Very funny,” she said, not taking his bait.

  “Like you don’t remember the stud-muffin neighbor, Viv,” Chessie added.

  None of them knew. She couldn’t fault them for what she’d never shared.

  “Who’s the stud-muffin neighbor?” Lang asked.

  She opened the door and slammed it behind her, before she heard the rest. She crossed the patio quickly, hopped down the steps to the grass, and made a beeline for the water. The grass was winter brown and crunchy all the way down the hill to the small lake. This lawn had been the site of so many snowball fights, sledding marathons, touch football games, birthday parties—a lawn that separated this house from the next.

  She slowed down as she reached the water’s edge, rounding the few kayaks and the canoe they kept there, not used much anymore.

  Taking a deep inhale of spring-thawed air, she let her gaze shift to the Taylors’ old house next door. With the trees bare, she could see right to their basement door. Smell the bitter odor of beer and sweat. Hear Hootie & the Blowfish on the stereo. Feel the crushed-blue-velvet sofa where they’d always made out. Vivi and Kenny, the popular girl and the cool jock.

  Only he wasn’t cool. He was cold. Rough. Hard. Vicious.

  You want this, V. You dressed for easy access, didn’t you, baby? She closed her eyes against the burn, the sound of her argument, the tearing, ripping, black ache between her legs.

  “A doctor, huh?”

  Vivi startled and gasped at the sound of Lang’s voice, furious that she hadn’t heard him. Digging deep, she found her composure. Just like she had when she’d stumbled home that night, telling no one, the guilt gutting her.

  And later… after…

  “Are you okay?” His tone changed, instantly concerned. Safe.

  He was nothing like Ken Taylor, who’d gone off to college, then med school in some Midwestern city, and never looked back. Doctor Kenneth Taylor, who apparently didn’t have a problem living with guilt and shame.

  “I’m fine,” she said quickly, forcing lightness into her voice. “Are you thoroughly corrupted by this family now?”

  “Not nearly enough,” he said with a rueful smile, reaching out to graze her cheek with his knuckles. The gesture was somehow natural and shocking at the same time.

  It felt right for Lang to touch her, but not here in the shadow of where she’d had so much stolen from her.

  No, she’d given that power to a rapist. And with this man in front of her, she was ready to take it back. “Are we going back to Nantucket tonight?” she asked.

  “Probably. Why?”

  “I don’t want to be away from you, Lang.”

  His eyes flickered. “I know you’re scared, so—”

  “No, I’m not.” She covered his hand, pressing it against her cheek. “I was, but I’m not.” They were talking about two different kinds of fear, she knew. “I want to be with you tonight.”

  His eyes narrowed and pinned her with heated intensity. “I won’t leave you.”

  “I mean—”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “And you won’t…” She wet her lips, struggling for a word to describe how she’d lost him last night. She’d had him, and then—his own demon had gotten him. “Change your mind.”

  “I didn’t change my mind,” he said. “I just…” He struggled to swallow, looking past her, obviously searchin
g for a change of subject. “So you were in love with the boy next door when you were a cheerleader. Color me astonished.”

  Bad choice of subject changes. “Screw Gabe for bringing up my past. And I was never in love. Not even close.”

  “But you were a cheerleader and, evidently, the neighbor boy is a doctor now.”

  “That’s what we heard. I really haven’t kept track of him.” Just wished him dead most days. “And, yes, I did a little cheering before I found my way onto a skateboard. People change, Lang.”

  From the driveway, the raw, loud rumble of Gabe’s ancient GTO ended the conversation for them.

  “We’re going to do a drive by that address Chessie found. Otherwise, Gabe will try to go by himself. He’s as bad as you are.”

  “Oh, he’s better,” she laughed. “I’ll stay here with Chessie and hack Cara’s phone texts some more.”

  “You promise?”

  She smiled. “I promise.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her on the head. “So one more question about the doctor?” he asked.

  No, no questions. “What?”

  “Why’d you break up?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She waved her hand, which, damn it all, shook a little at the lie. “Just—you know—teen angst.”

  “Was he the cause of the final teardrop?”

  “Who knew you were such a sweet-talker, Lang?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “Yes,” she said simply. Take that, St. Peter.

  “How did he hurt you?”

  “He underestimated me.” She turned to go back up the hill but he caught up with her in a second, wrapping his arms around her from behind, putting his mouth to her ears.

  “Then I won’t make the same mistake.”

  “I hope not.” He had no idea how much she meant that.

  CHAPTER 14

  The monster V-8 engine of Gabe’s GTO roared over the roads that cut through the Boston suburbs. He chose to skip the busy interstates up to the industrial town of Lowell, winding instead around the quieter Route 27 with a sure handle on the curving roads. They rode in silence for a long time, not competing with the engine until Gabe gave him a slow look and Colt just knew what was coming next.