by Rebecca Deel
“Give me a minute and we’ll be ready for you.” Her bodyguard punched the button to open the door and rolled onto the pad. Once on the ground, Zane signaled Claire.
Much as she longed to stay in the safety of the van, she refused to give in to fear. There was no proof Collins was behind her abduction. If he was, three bodyguards made another run at her unlikely. Right. She sighed. Nice dream world. In reality, Claire Walker led a boring, uneventful life. The logical explanation was a connection to Adam and his covert life. Squaring her shoulders, Claire draped the long strap of her purse diagonally across her body and opened the door.
“With me,” Zane murmured, his gaze constantly scanning their surroundings. He indicated for her to follow Lily into the hotel.
Claire moved behind her, Zane keeping pace on her right side. Remy brought up the rear although Claire couldn’t hear him walking. Interesting group they made. Once inside the hotel, they traveled winding paths to the Cascades. Good grief, this place was crowded. More than one person bumped into Zane’s chair and then had the nerve to look aggravated at him for getting in their way.
“Oh, brother,” Lily muttered. “Smells so green in here. Give me smog and car exhaust any day.” Her husband and Zane laughed.
When they found the place where Claire was to meet her clients, she checked her watch. Ten minutes early. Great. She had time to rest a few minutes before her workday began. She located a bench and sat at the end. Zane positioned himself by her side, assessing potential threats. Didn’t see how he would notice anyone in particular. People were everywhere in the Cascades.
She also noticed while she was a little out of breath, Zane hadn’t broken a sweat. “You must be in amazing shape. You don’t look winded.”
His gaze skated to hers a moment before resuming his vigilance. “Have to be to haul my own weight around.” His words were clipped.
Oh, goodness. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him. She didn’t have the chance to apologize.
“Sorry we’re late,” called a high-pitched voice.
Claire pasted a smile on her face and stood. She held out her hand to the blond bombshell with generous curves, a balding man with a softening middle at her side. “Sheila and Marty?”
“That’s right. Thank you so much for agreeing to take our pictures. Joe told us how in demand you are as a photographer. We’re so excited, aren’t we, baby cakes?”
Marty nodded his head.
Behind them, Remy rolled his eyes. Claire had to admit that was one pet name she’d never use on her boyfriend or husband, though Marty didn’t seem to mind.
“Who is your special friend?” Sheila asked, her gaze on Zane.
Special friend? Heat rolled over Claire’s body as her hand dropped to Zane’s shoulder. She did not need a photo shoot bad enough to let Zane be insulted and demeaned.
Before she could cancel the shoot, he lifted her hand from his shoulder and kissed her fingers. When her gaze collided with Zane’s, he winked. “Introduce me, love.” He almost purred as he said the words, his fingers tightening on hers.
Claire’s brain short-circuited for a second or two. The strategy was a good one, designed to keep him by her side without anyone’s eyebrows raising in the meantime. She wished he’d clued her in to the tactic before this second, though. “Sheila, Marty, this is my boyfriend, Zane. He also helps with my equipment.”
“Your boyfriend?” Sheila’s jaw sagged. “How sweet.”
Lily’s hands fisted.
Claire inclined her head toward her other bodyguards. “Remy and Lily, my security detail.”
“You need protection?” Marty asked.
“She does since two men tried to kidnap her last night,” Zane said.
“Kidnapped?” Sheila squealed. “Were you hurt? How did you get away?”
“I’m fine, thanks to Zane. He’s a resourceful man.” The skeptical look on Marty’s face stoked Claire’s temper a couple notches higher. “Let’s focus on you. Why did you choose to have your pictures taken here, Sheila?”
She giggled. “This is where my baby cakes and I met, right here at this waterfall. We wanted pictures to show our kids one day.”
Claire nodded. “Your email mentioned a formal pose as well. I have some ideas on that. Once we finish here, we’ll do the formals at my house. You can choose which pose to use on your engagement announcement.”
The other woman bounced in place and clapped her hands. “This will be so much fun. I can’t wait to tell Marty’s mom that Claire Walker took our engagement pictures. She’ll never believe it.”
“Better get started, love,” Zane murmured. “I have plans for you later.”
Goosebumps surged over her body as that husky voice reached her ears. She leaned down with a smile and placed a light kiss on his mouth. When his breath caught, she pulled back, amused that her actions rattled the SEAL. He started this role. Now they had to play it through. From Claire’s perspective, any woman who captured Zane Murphy’s heart would be blessed indeed.
She opened her case and removed her Nikon. While she removed the lens covering, Zane nuzzled against her ear and whispered, “Nice catch.”
“You could have warned me.” Her lips brushed the outside of his ear, pleased she made the big, drop-dead gorgeous SEAL shiver. Claire turned, camera in hand, and positioned Marty and Sheila with the waterfall in the background. After several shots, she shifted position, not entirely satisfied with the lighting. Their poses were just that, poses. She needed to loosen them up a little or the pictures would reflect their stiffness and discomfort.
“Marty, kiss your sweetheart. Both of you think about the first time you realized you were in love with each other.” She took a series of shots, then called, “Look at me.” Both of them turned their faces toward her, eyes misty, glowing expressions on each. And there was the money shot, she thought, as she captured their images in rapid succession.
After another few minutes and one location change later, Claire called a halt to the session. “I think I have what we need from here. Do you still want the formal pose?”
“My mother will insist,” Marty said with a grimace.
“We need to pick up flowers.” A soft smile from the bride-to-be. “My baby cakes gave me pink roses on our first date. We want the roses in the formal pose.”
“No problem.” Claire handed them her business card. “My address is listed on the front. I’ll meet you there.”
Holding hands, Sheila and Marty left the Cascades.
“I’ll bring the van around,” Remy said. He headed off at a jog.
“Special friend?” Lily glared at the retreating couple’s backs. “Sheila and Marty have no class.”
Zane shrugged. “They aren’t the first to treat me as if I don’t have two brain cells to rub together. They won’t be the last.”
Claire slid her camera into the case. “People underestimate your abilities, Zane. In your line of work, I’d say that’s a good thing.”
A smile ghosted across his lips. “It’s not normally an issue. I haven’t been in the field in two years, Claire.”
She handed him her camera bag. “Then your boss also underestimates you and that’s a shame. Now, is it okay with my new boyfriend if we leave? I need to set up for the formal session. I would have done it last night if I hadn’t been so rudely abducted.”
Zane chuckled. “You’re not angry about having a boyfriend foisted on you?”
“Why would I be? You’re setting up a cover for my protection, and in the meantime, I get to know you better. That’s a winning scenario.”
Lily shook her head, amusement in her gaze. “I think you’ve met your match, Zane.”
A quick smile, then Zane gestured for Claire to follow Lily. When they reached the outside door, Lily asked Claire to wait. The operative strode through the door, checked the surroundings, then signaled her husband. Once the van was idling in the pickup lane, she motioned for Claire and Zane to come out.
“Just like we did on t
he way inside,” Zane said. “This time, I’m guarding your back instead of the Cajun.”
With a nod, Claire pressed the door assist button and walked outside. Remy had already lowered the platform for Zane. At the van, Lily stationed herself with her back to the vehicle while Claire climbed inside and returned to her seat.
Within minutes, Remy put the van in motion. While he and Lily conversed in the front, Claire glanced at Zane. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier.”
“Uncomfortable?”
“When I went all fan girl on you. I can’t help it, you know.”
“Is that right?”
“Guys that can bench press a Volkswagen Beetle just do it for me.”
He burst into laughter, his rich baritone igniting fireworks inside Claire. “I’ll be sure to flex my muscles for you whenever we’re together.”
She groaned. “Oh, man. I’m doomed. That’s not fair, Zane.”
“What am I missing?” Remy asked. “It sounds interesting.”
“Zane is threatening to storm the walls of my heart by showing off his muscles.”
“You better watch out.” Lily glanced back with a grin on her face. “That’s how Remy got me.”
“Oh, now, that hurts, sweetheart. I thought it was my cooking. I’m more than a buff body, you know.” She slugged his arm, which made him laugh.
The trip to Claire’s house passed without incident. Remy circled the block before parking in her driveway. He turned to Claire. “I need your keys, sugar.”
She rooted around in her purse until she found them and handed him the ring of keys. “The key with the white covering. Alarm code is 2325.”
Instead of going to the front door as she expected, Remy walked around to the back of the house. “What’s he doing?”
“Checking the exterior to see if you’ve had visitors. We don’t want to walk into a trap,” Lily said. She opened the door. “Wait here.” She headed for Claire’s SUV.
To her astonishment, the operative checked the outside of her vehicle before dropping to the ground and checking underneath. “Is she looking for a bomb?” Would Collins’ people try to kill her just because she escaped from their clutches?
“Among other things.”
“Like?”
“Tracking devices, evidence of tampering.”
Where Lily had been in constant motion, she froze, glanced toward the van and made some kind of hand signal.
Claire’s heart rate soared. Did she need to crank the engine and back the van away from her vehicle? Her attention shifted to Zane. He was a sitting duck in here. “What did she find?”
“Tracking device. Someone is determined to get their hands on you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zane threaded his fingers through hers. “We won’t let them take you.”
“I know,” Claire said, voice soft.
Did she understand how far he would go to protect her? To what extreme Remy and Lily or any of the Fortress people would go to keep her safe? He broke away from her gaze in time to see Lily reach underneath the vehicle for a moment. She returned to the van.
“Well?” he demanded.
Without saying a word, Lily dropped a small, black object into the palm of his outstretched hand.
He examined it, grunted. “Nice. Not as good as ours, but reliable with a decent range.”
“Which means they’re nearby?” Claire asked. Her fingers tightened around his.
“Confirms what we suspected already. These guys want you specifically. You weren’t a random target. The question is why.” And they needed an answer fast. If Adam’s cover was blown, they needed to locate and extract him before Collins killed him. If he wasn’t already dead.
If Adam’s cover remained intact, then someone else wanted Claire. But who? Did photographers have obsessed fans? Maybe she snapped a photo of the wrong person. Wrong place, wrong time. Stranger things had happened. She might not know she’d captured the image of someone who didn’t want to be photographed.
Unfortunately, he didn’t buy that scenario. Worse, finding the answers for Claire’s safety meant digging deep into her personal life, not a process most people found comfortable. In fact, most people resented the intrusion. He could admit to himself that he didn’t want Claire to resent him. He sighed. Didn’t matter, he reminded himself yet again. Do the job, Murphy. She wouldn’t look at him as anything more than a friend anyway no matter how much he might dream. What woman wanted to be saddled with the baggage he was literally lugging around? His gaze dropped to his useless legs.
Remy returned and checked the front before approaching the front door. After examining the door frame and knob, he unlocked it and slipped inside.
A moment later, he stood in the doorway and gave the all clear signal. Inside the house, some of the tension disappeared from Zane’s muscles. It wouldn’t totally disappear until he had Claire in a place unknown to the kidnappers. Right now, he was twitchy, wanting to get her out of this house to a safer place, a location where they weren’t ducks waiting for hunters to pick them off.
He rolled to the center of the living room, surprised at the lack of obstructions in his path. No walls to separate the living room, dining room, and kitchen. No coffee table to maneuver around, couch and love seat arranged in an open grouping. The dining area had a round table with two chairs, with two more off to the side. Hardwood floors made it easy for him to move around. Yet another layer of tension peeled away.
Zane shifted his attention to the hallway. Wider than normal. Huh. She wasn’t kidding about being able to accommodate wheelchairs. “Your house is beautiful, Claire.”
“Thanks. Adam helped me find it. We needed a place Nana would feel comfortable visiting.”
“How old is your grandmother?”
“Seventy. Her health isn’t the best, though. If something happens to Adam, I’m afraid I’ll lose her, too.”
“We’ll find him,” Remy said as he walked into the room. “Nobody is better at unearthing information than Z. He’ll find Adam and uncover the mole.”
The doorbell rang.
“Go to the hall out of sight, Claire,” Zane said. Once she was safe, Lily in front of Claire with her weapon drawn, he motioned for Remy to check the door. A glance through the peephole and Remy holstered his weapon. He opened the door to Marty and Sheila and a dozen pink roses.
“Come in,” Zane said. He motioned to the love seat. “Relax a minute. Claire is setting up. She’ll be with you soon.”
“How do you know Joe?” Remy asked the couple.
Marty’s eyes narrowed. “We’re neighbors. You know Joe?”
“Sure. I’ve worked with him a couple times.”
“You’re with Fortress?” Sheila asked.
“We all are,” Zane said.
She looked stunned. “What is it you do for the company?”
“Communications.”
“Well, it’s nice you can contribute something.”
Remy straightened from the wall, his expression hard.
Before Zane could call him off, Lily came into the room. The high color in her cheeks told him his friend had heard the latest insensitive comment from Sheila.
“Claire is ready for you.” She escorted them down the hall.
“That woman is a piece of work,” Remy murmured. “You okay?”
“Please. I’ve heard a lot uglier things than that since I was injured.” He twisted, reached into the protected pocket at the back of his chair, and grabbed his laptop. Zane inserted his hotspot and shifted his wheelchair so his back was to a wall and the hallway was in sight, making sure his Sig was accessible.
He brought up the list of Adam’s teammates. Joe Ackerman, T.J. Moore, Cam Hollis, and Ken Simmons. Was the mole one of these men or someone else in the Fortress company, someone with computer skills? He blew out a frustrated breath. Even with Jon’s savvy tech skills, digging into everyone’s files would take a while. Made sense to start with obvious connections to Adam. His teammates were
like family. If one of them had turned on him, the betrayal would cut deep.
Zane could relate. Though his teammates hadn’t betrayed him, some days he felt as if he’d betrayed them by surviving the IED. Survivor’s guilt, the shrinks called it. Having a name didn’t make it easier to live with.
He shoved the raging emotions aside and concentrated on the job at hand. Zane logged into the company database and searched for Joe Ackerman’s records. He had worked for Fortress three years, changed teams each year, moving to Adam’s a few months earlier. Why the frequent moves?
A few keystrokes later, Zane’s eyebrows rose. Personality conflict. With three teams? He noted that one of the teams Ackerman left was Jon Smith’s and Eli Wolfe’s. Something to chase with his friends when Claire was in a secure location. He couldn’t pursue that line of inquiry with Ackerman’s neighbors down the hall.
The further he read in the file, the more convinced he became that Ackerman had a problem with authority. He didn’t like taking anyone’s orders but his own. Zane figured there was a pattern in Ackerman’s previous career. Military? He considered that for about two seconds, then snorted. Not likely. Must be law enforcement. They had a lot more tolerance than any branch of the military.
Ackerman didn’t have family close, which wasn’t unusual for Fortress operatives. Some didn’t have any family at all while others had been disowned when they joined the military. Other operatives had lost a boyfriend or girlfriend or a spouse when the demands of the job took the operative out of the country at short notice with no concrete return date. Missions didn’t respect birthdays, anniversaries, or holidays. Zane had seen more than one SEAL teammate’s marriage end in divorce because of the strain.
On a hunch, he pulled up Adam’s mission reports, beginning with Ackerman’s shift to the team. Sure enough, from the first operation, Ackerman had bucked against Adam’s leadership. Zane’s mouth curled. Ackerman didn’t like being the low man on the team. The operative was competent enough, but Zane wouldn’t have kept him on his own team had he been in the field. Couldn’t trust him to do as he was told.
