Eli stepped back inside the house and pulled her into his arms. “Be careful, okay?”
“I will.” Her eyes were troubled as she stared up at him. “If Legrand shows up again, don’t confront him. Get the hell out of here, and then call the cops. You try to be a hero, and you could get yourself killed.”
“I’m not an idiot, and I have nothing to prove.” He kissed her, a hard, demanding caress. Finally, he stepped back. “I’ll see you in a couple of days. Do you have the car key?”
“Your mom gave it to me. She’s really terrific.”
“I’ll text you my address and the security code. There’s a spare house key taped to the bottom of the porch swing.”
“A simple thank you hardly seems sufficient, but I really appreciate this.”
He forced a smile, wondering why his gut had clenched into a tight knot. Jaimee would be far safer down on the Cape than she was here.
“I don’t need your thanks. Give me a call once you get there.”
“I will.” She stretched up to kiss him one last time. “Bye, Eli.” She started to say something else, and then seemed to change her mind. With a quick smile, she was gone.
Chapter Sixteen
Jaimee rang the bell at the Counterstrike headquarters and stepped back to smile up at the security camera. A few moments later, the door opened, and Wolf enveloped her in a warm hug. Her trainer and friend had always seemed larger than life. The man stood well over six feet tall, had the blond good looks of a Viking, and a deep voice that he rarely raised, even when provoked. His ability to stay calm in a crisis was one of the attributes that made him such a successful team leader.
“Easy on the ribs. You don’t know your own strength.”
He released her and stepped back, his blue eyes filled with concern as he studied her. “How are you, Scarlet?”
“Healing well, but still sore.”
“I bet.” He draped an arm around her shoulders and led her up the stairs to his office on the second floor.
Stepping into the book-lined room brought back a flood of memories. She’d sat in the same burgundy leather club chair facing Wolf when he’d recruited her to the Counterstrike team, explaining how she could use her superior marksmanship to save innocents who couldn’t help themselves. She’d been drawn in by his passion and her own empathy. Jaimee could relate to anyone who felt powerless and victimized. Over time, she’d come to realize what she’d gone through in high school was the reason Wolf had approached her, not just her shooting skills. Though for security reasons, she didn’t know the details of her teammates’ lives before joining Counterstrike, she was dead certain they’d all experienced something that made the job they did here very personal.
He took the chair next to her instead of the one behind his desk and studied her for a moment. “Despite your current situation, you look happier than I’ve seen you in a while.”
“Astute as always. I met someone I’m beginning to care about.” Tension that had been her constant companion during the drive down from New Hampshire tightened the muscles across her back. “But I’m afraid I’ve put him in danger, which is why I’m getting away from both Eli and Hawthorne for a while.”
“Luna said you tracked down the assassin’s identity, but you still don’t know who hired him.”
“Unfortunately, no. Eli is taking what information we have to the police. Maybe they’ll find the bastard.” She gripped the arms of her chair. “If not, I’ll go back and flush out the killer. If I don’t, there’s no guarantee that man will stop looking for me, and the last thing I want is to worry about who else a confrontation might endanger.”
“Is that why you stopped by today? You’ll need a little assistance?”
“I might. After the memorial for Eli’s grandmother is over, I’ll decide on a course of action if the police haven’t brought Legrand in yet.”
“All you have to do is contact me, and the team will be at your disposal.”
“I appreciate that, Wolf. I really do. Honestly, I’m not holding out much hope for an arrest. This guy has been eluding the cops for a long time.” She straightened in her chair. “What I need right now are my old weapons back. I left them because I wanted to put any hint of violence behind me once and for all, but that doesn’t seem to have worked out so well.”
“Of course. You could have asked Patch for your rifle and sidearm when he stitched you up.”
“I wasn’t thinking very clearly, all doped up on pain pills, but there were a couple of times when I could have taken that asshole out if I’d been armed. Eli has his grandpa’s old shotgun, and while it might hit the broad side of a barn, I doubt it’s the sort of precision weapon I’m used to. I left it at his house in Hawthorne.”
Wolf smiled. “I can imagine. So, this is just a pit stop on your way to where?”
“Cape Cod. Eli has a house in Chatham. I intend to hang out there for at least a couple of days. He’s meeting me Monday afternoon.”
“You really like this guy?”
“Yeah, I do.” Just thinking about him made her smile. “I have no idea if the relationship we’re building will last, but I’m trying my best not to blow it up before we at least have a chance to find out. Opening up to someone isn’t easy for me.”
Wolf took one of her hands and squeezed it. “Letting yourself be vulnerable never is. But it beats the hell out of living with regrets.”
“Says the guy who brushes off women the same way you would pesky flies whenever the team goes out for a drink.”
He grimaced. “I didn’t say I follow my own advice. We all have our own crosses to bear.”
They were silent for a few moments. Jaimee wanted to ask what had happened to put the ever-present shadows in his pale blue eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to break the unwritten rule that personal lives were a taboo subject, even though she no longer worked at Counterstrike. They’d all known if one of the team was compromised, the less he or she could reveal, the better it would be for everyone.
“Let’s go get your weapons.” Wolf rose to his feet.
Jaimee followed him down the hall, their footsteps echoing on the wooden floor of the old house. He unlocked the last room and held open the door. Stepping into their arsenal brought back a rush of memories as her gaze zeroed in on her Remington long range tactical rifle near the top of the rack. She was proud her contribution to the team had saved dozens of innocent victims, but taking a life—even the life of a scumbag kidnapper or terrorist—always left her with a hollow feeling in her chest. Her feet led her across the room to the weapon, and she carefully lifted it down. Still, if it came to a choice between Eli’s life or Legrand’s, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
“Here’s the case for the rifle and your sidearm. I’ll get you a supply of ammunition for both weapons.”
Jaimee laid the Beretta on the bench below the rack then broke down the rifle and secured it in its case. When she was finished, Wolf handed her an ammunition pouch.
“Thank you. I hope I don’t need to use deadly force, but I’ll do what I have to if I’m left without a choice.”
“Being prepared is smart. Just keep in mind you’re no longer sanctioned by the team. I don’t want to see you land in prison.”
“That thought has been running through my head. But self-defense is lawful no matter where you are, and I still have valid licenses to carry in every state on the East Coast.”
“Good enough.” He gave her a warm smile that softened the rugged planes and angles of his face. “It really is good to see you.”
“I’ve missed you and everyone else on the team, but after losing Coffee, I needed to decompress and try to live a normal life.” She shrugged. “Okay, maybe not completely normal since I spend far more time with dogs than humans. It’s a work in progress.”
“I’m glad you found someone to help you through the transition.” Wolf followed her out of the room and locked the door before they headed back downstairs. “Do you want Patch to take a
look at your bullet wound? I can give him a call.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s healing well with no sign of infection. You don’t need to bother him.”
“All right. You take care, Scarlet.”
She stood on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I will. Bye, Wolf.”
As Jaimee left the brownstone and ran across the street to her car, a feeling of peace settled over her. For the first time since she’d quit Counterstrike, she was certain she’d made the right choice. The past no longer held her in a stranglehold, and she was truly ready to move on. Eli was the reason.
With a smile on her lips, she started the engine and drove away.
* * * *
It was over. They’d held a brief, graveside service with only family present before heading to the estate for the public memorial. While Eli stood in front of the gathering on the lawn and spoke about the woman he’d loved as a grandmother, a friend, and a confidant, he wondered which familiar face belonged to the psychopath who’d hired her killer. It pissed him off that his attention wasn’t fully focused on remembering Maureen.
The crowd dispersed with some of the mourners heading to the buffet table and bar set up on the back patio, while others gathered in smaller groups to chat. Eli went looking for his mother and found her in the living room, talking to the pastor. The French doors were open wide to facilitate traffic flow in and out of the house. The pane that had been shattered when the assassin took a shot at Jaimee had been replaced. He still needed to fix the broken window on his own deck door, which was currently covered by a piece of cardboard. Thinking about the asshole searching his home the previous day didn’t improve his mood.
Before he reached his mother, his cell phone vibrated in the pocket of his suit jacket. Pulling it out, he checked the display. “About damn time,” he muttered as he swiped to answer. “Good of you to finally get back to me, Detective.” He ducked out of the room and hurried past the bar where Webb stood holding a highball glass, talking to his sister. “I expected you’d be a little more interested in what I have to say.”
Webb turned suddenly, and his drink sloshed over the edge of the glass, soaking Eli’s pantleg.
“Christ, Webb, watch it!”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, Detective.” He tugged at the material that clung to his knee. “I was wondering when you’d call.”
“I was out of town, following up on something.”
“A lead in my grandmother’s case, I hope.”
“I’m afraid it didn’t pan out. What do you have to tell me that’s so urgent. I spoke to you not more than twenty-four hours ago, and you didn’t have a whole lot to share then.”
“Well, something happened afterward.” He rounded the corner of the house and stopped just short of running into Stephen, coming from the opposite direction. “Sorry.”
“What was that?” O’Leary asked.
“Hold on just a moment.” Eli hurried toward the driveway and took up a position between his BMW and Doyle’s Porsche. “Look, I’m at the memorial right now, and I don’t want this conversation to be overheard. Can I stop by the station when we’re finished here? I’ll cut out as soon as possible, but it might be another hour or so.”
“That’ll work for me.”
“I’ll see you shortly.” He hung up and pushed his phone back into his pocket.
“I hope you’re not leaving so soon,” a female voice called.
Spinning around, he faced his Aunt Vanna. She minced across the lawn in heels, her brow furrowed in a frown.
“No, I had a phone call.” He strode across the grass to meet her and took her arm. “You’ll break your neck in those heels. Did you need me for a reason?”
She wrinkled her nose. “You smell like a skid row bum.”
“Thanks to your son.”
She raised a brow but didn’t comment further. “Stephen mentioned you raced off toward your car. I wanted to catch you before you left to tell you I spoke with Maureen’s lawyer. We’re meeting here tomorrow morning at nine for the reading of the will. I think everyone wants to get it over with and head home. I’ve social commitments this coming week that can’t be put off.”
“That’s fine. Mom flies out of Manchester in the afternoon, so a morning meeting will work with my schedule.”
“I’m surprised Maisie isn’t staying longer.”
“She’s busy at the winery this time of year.” When they reached the patio, he released her arm. “Thanks for the update. I assume any critical decisions regarding Croft Enterprises can wait until the next board meeting since it’s only a few weeks from now?”
“I certainly hope so.” She stared past his shoulder. “I’ll talk to you later, Eli.”
“Sure.”
Vanna hurried in the direction of the bar but paused to speak briefly to Reba and Doyle. Once she moved on, his two cousins strolled toward him. Reba wore a sleek black dress that complimented her thin figure and dark blond hair. When she reached Eli, she gave him a hug.
“I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to talk to you before the service. I barely made it here in time.”
“No worries. Where’s your fiancé?”
“Anson couldn’t get away, so I drove up alone. How are you, Eli? I noticed your name at the top of the best seller list again.”
“I can’t complain.”
“I wouldn’t complain, either, if I were you.” Doyle flashed a smile. “Not that either of us is doing too badly. Reba landed a big fish in the fashion industry, and I just signed the new relief pitcher for the Red Sox. Life could be worse.”
Reba scowled. “I’m marrying Anson because we’re in love, not to help my career.”
“That’s not how I meant it,” her brother answered. “Don’t get all prickly with me. Other than Mom, you’re the only two people I can stand in this family.”
“That’s because we’re the only ones who put up with your barbs. You and Maureen were a lot alike in that respect.” She turned to face Eli. “Hey, do you have any idea what happened to Watson? I asked Mom earlier, and she said she’d forgotten all about him. I always loved that dog.”
Eli froze in place, wondering if he looked like he’d been skewered. After a moment, he gathered his wits and gave an off-hand shrug. “I’ve no idea. Someone must be taking care of him.”
“Maybe the dog walker has him.” Doyle raised a brow. “You talked to her once, didn’t you, Eli? The redhead with the incredible legs. The woman is smokin’ hot.”
“I answered the door one time when she came to pick up Watson. I wouldn’t know if she has him, though.”
“It’s not a big deal. I was just curious.” Reba waved a hand. “Rudy and his wife are over by the roses, looking uncomfortable. I’m going to go talk to them. I’ll see you both later.”
“Typical of my sister,” Doyle said as Reba crossed the lawn. “She always wants to make people comfortable.”
“Unlike the rest of the family. We should all take lessons from her.”
“I suppose. Being nice definitely isn’t one of my strengths. At least that’s what all the women I used to date keep telling me.”
Eli focused on his cousin and grinned. “You’ve left quite a trail of disgruntled women behind you.”
“What can I say. I’m not the monogamous type.”
“I think I’ll go rescue my mom. She’s over near the buffet table talking to Stephen’s wife, and she looks bored.”
Doyle rolled his eyes. “Probably because Katherine is afraid to express an opinion. I don’t think good old Uncle Stevie lets her think for herself.”
“Wow, you really are in a mean-spirited mood. What’s eating you?”
“Nothing in particular. I just hate scenes like this. They’re so damn fake. Three-quarters of the people here couldn’t stand Maureen, yet we’re all required to stand around pretending she was a saint. I’m going to take off after I have a smoke.”
“Those things will kill you, Doyle.”
&nbs
p; “Not yet, they haven’t.”
“Whatever. I’ll see you at the will reading tomorrow.”
“That should be interesting.” When a muffled ding sounded, Doyle pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and frowned. “See you, Eli.”
Eli worked his way through a scattering of people in the direction of the food tables. His mother broke off her conversation with Katherine and met him just as he reached the platter of mini croissant sandwiches. He chose roast beef and took a bite.
His mom laid a hand on his arm. “Your tribute to Maureen was wonderful, but you looked worn down while you were giving it.”
He let out a sigh. “I’m just so damned angry we’re here. Maureen shouldn’t be dead.”
“No, she shouldn’t. Did you see Sheriff Frank slip in toward the end of the service? In the movies, doesn’t the killer always return to the scene of the crime? Maybe he’s here to check out potential suspects.”
“If not the killer, it’s a sure bet the person who paid him is present.” Eli finished the croissant and turned in the direction his mother was staring.
His gaze landed on the sheriff, looking out of sorts in a gray suit instead of his uniform. The man was deep in conversation with Stephen, and every now and then he glanced over at Webb, who was still at the bar drinking what was no doubt his third or fourth cocktail.
“Do you want to talk to Sheriff Bagley since you couldn’t get a hold of that detective?”
Eli jerked his attention back to his mother. “Actually, O’Leary called me a little while ago. Apparently, he was out of town. I told him I’d head down to the station after we finish here.”
“Good.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Have you talked to Jaimee recently? How is she?”
“Not since last night.” A surge of happiness lightened his mood. Even though they’d only discussed inconsequential subjects, lying in bed and listening to her voice had made him realize how much he cared about her. He cleared his throat. “She’s fine.”
“Excellent. Well, I’m ready to go whenever you feel you can leave. You can drop me off at Frieda’s house and then go see Detective O’Leary. I’m looking forward to a quick visit with my old friend.”
Fatal Encounter (A Counterstrike Novel Book 1) Page 18
