Shannon knew math. Knew how the law of averages worked.
Someone in PAVAD was going to get seriously hurt eventually.
And she didn’t want to be the one waiting on the other end of the line for that call.
Ezra Hahn was not going to make her forget that.
No matter how right it had felt walking into PAVAD with him right by her side. Or how it had felt waking in his arms, as if she was right where she belonged.
Damn it. That man was just made to twist her plans into oblivion. She didn’t have a clue what to do now.
SEVENTY-SIX
NO DOUBT WHAT Chas had done to her had been the impetus that had sent her into Ezra’s arms for comfort.
She had been so afraid. She’d needed the solace, no doubt. Because of him. She’d needed to not be so alone.
His guilt was heavy on his shoulders. He’d have to make it up to her somehow.
The top of the inn was still secured by her agency, not even a full day after he’d targeted Shannon.
It would be for a while.
No one was watching the PAVAD building, at least not from where he was located high above the roofline on another building nearby. Chas knew he was in a slightly precarious position—if the FBI swept this area again, he would have to move before they found him. All it would take would be a chopper and a sharp-eyed search team to find him.
It was a risk he was willing to take. He was damned good at being invisible, after all. He had his binoculars trained on the front doors. Pretty simple. There were bureau security guards, but that was about it.
Washed out bureau or army wannabes, no doubt. Not good enough to be real FBI but unable to get a job doing anything else but protecting those who were.
He’d tangled with their types before.
And there weren’t as many as there should be. Chas counted the guards carefully.
One would think the best federal investigative division in the world would have more of a security system in place than a set of glass doors leading into an open lobby.
He could stay right where he was and take out the next fifteen PAVAD employees as they walked right in to the building.
It was tempting. Very tempting.
But those people hadn’t hurt him. And he didn’t want it said that what he had done was for revenge on the bureau or something. It was business—that was all.
He was a professional. And word would get around about him if he made too big of a spectacle of himself. That made future clients a bit reluctant to book him. He needed to be invisible. It was good for business.
He respected the work the FBI did. That Shannon did. He always had. Surely, she realized that.
But the potential to double his two hundred thousand was tempting. He’d already added another twenty thousand just for winging Shannon. Chas winced.
If she ever found out he’d hurt her and profited from it... Well, Shannon wouldn’t forgive him easily for that. He’d have to put that money to good use.
Maybe he’d put it toward a safer car for her.
He wanted to see her.
Chas wasn’t going to lie to himself.
He was worried. He hadn’t felt this sick at what he had done to another in a long time. He could have killed any of those agents out there with her. He hadn’t had to target her.
It felt almost like he had betrayed her. Damaged the trust between them.
A part of him knew that was ridiculous. They had no trust between them.
Maybe he needed to find her, apologize to her in person. Make her see that he had had to do it.
As quickly as he thought about it, he discarded that idea. He could imagine it now. He’d walk up to her in the neighborhood. He’d wave. Maybe smile. Say something benign about the weather.
She’d be injured, favoring the arm. He’d offer his concern. Ask her if he could help her carry her things. Like a gentleman.
He closed his eyes for a moment and just imagined.
Shannon turned to him, startled. She looked at him like she was trying to figure out who he was. Then she smiled. “Thanks. It’s a bit heavy to get one-handed.”
Chas picked up the planter, surprised she’d made it as far as she had with it. It was far too heavy for her, even if she’d been using two hands. She was a determined little thing. He liked that.
He smiled at her again. She had dirt streaks over her hand. She loved gardening, he could tell. There were flowers in front of her home everywhere. “Just lead the way.”
He did his best to not be threatening. FBI agent or not, she was still a small, vulnerable woman. She was smart enough to realize that, too. He carried the planter to the porch for her. “What happened to your arm, miss?”
She hesitated. A look of fear and remembered pain went through the big brown eyes. Guilt stabbed at him. He had never meant to give her these kinds of nightmares. Memories. He had enough of his own. He had never wanted Shannon to have them, as well. He would have to make it up to her somehow. “A work...incident. It’s nothing, really. Thank you, Mr....”
“Chas. Chas Sefton. I’m a securities expert downtown. How long have you lived here in this apartment complex? I’ve seen you around a time or two. I believe we ride the same bus occasionally.”
“A few months. You?”
He’d make small talk, then convince her to go with him to the ice cream shop down the road. He’d convince her he wasn’t a crazy stalker out to her hurt or anything like that.
The rest would be history.
Soon it would be him she was looking at.
Not Ezra Hahn.
Chas snapped himself out of his harmless fantasy when the man in question stepped onto the pavement in front of the PAVAD building.
It would have been so easy to shoot that sonofabitch right there. Chas would get yet another twenty grand for doing it. Only he would make it fatal. Keep Ezra away from Shannon forever.
It would also betray his position. And it wasn’t Ezra he’d been contracted out to hit now. It was another man from the other FBI building across the road.
Still. He could wing Ezra then be gone before anyone even know what was going on.
There was a woman at his side. Thin and dark-haired. Shannon walked next to her. The two were smiling and talking about something. Ezra was just nodding as he guided the two across the street. Protective.
More women joined them—Shannon’s friends from before. He smiled when the little redhead waddled next to Shannon.
Shannon’s best friend.
He never would do anything else to hurt Shannon. And that meant he would never hurt her friends.
They were just that. He’d seen the redhead with Shannon before, too. In a diner not too far from PAVAD. They’d been discussing the redhead’s obvious pregnancy. And her other children. She’d had three or four already.
They’re happiness over the baby had touched something in his gut.
Chas would never raise a gun against a pregnant woman. Ever.
Amelia would never stop haunting him if he did.
SEVENTY-SEVEN
EZRA GRABBED HIS gear from his desk where he’d dropped it yesterday and nodded at Cam. “See you when I’m back from CCU4.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know the truth. You got vulnerable, didn’t you? I told you to stay away from Toliver when you were feeling vulnerable. Stuff can happen. Naughty stuff.”
Yeah, Cam was one to talk. The instant Kyra had needed him Cam had dropped, everything, changed everything, and taken off into the Texas countryside. The two had gotten into some serious trouble.
Ezra and PAVAD had had to save their asses.
But Ezra didn’t care what his friend thought. What anyone did.
That sonofabitch had made it personal when he’d hit Shannon.
He waved at Cam and headed to the elevators. Shannon was on a different floor—that was exactly where he was headed.
Chalmers looked up when he dropped his bag on the desk—right next to Shannon’s.
Her eyes w
idened slightly.
“Forgot to mention... We get Hahn for the duration of this one,” Chalmers said. “It’ll be Shan’s task to get him caught up to speed on anything he doesn’t currently already know. Think you’re up to it?”
Ezra looked at Shannon’s supervisor. There wasn’t even a hint that the man knew what they’d been doing last night.
Profilers were supposed to be damned mind readers, but Ezra knew the truth. They were just good at making guesses.
The man’s wife had told him just exactly who had spent the night where. He had no doubt Shannon had told at least one of her little buddies he was camped at her place in that texting circle they’d created back after Christmas. Shannon and her friends kept close tabs on each other.
Ezra didn’t think it was such a bad idea at all. Not after the crap the women had gone through. He thought it had expanded to a few other women, too. There were six or seven in that little circle now.
“I think I can handle it. If Hahn buys lunch.” Her voice was calm, professional. Exactly as it should be.
But Ezra knew what she was thinking. What she was remembering.
She was going to handle him later tonight, too. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight until this case was over.
And things were going to be different after it was, as well.
He was going to make it clear that no matter what fears she had, she could trust him.
No matter what.
SEVENTY-EIGHT
MAX HAD THREE cases active and was down two people on his team. But his team had faced such odds before. One reason he’d gotten up early to come in and buy himself a little breathing room. His first stop was Allen Knight’s office.
The team leader was technically not allowed in the field at the moment, until they knew for certain what the case was with Jaynice, but Allan was as much of a workaholic as Max or Ken or any other team leader he’d ever known—mostly. There had been a few that were duds. But duds didn’t stick around in St. Louis for long.
Even if he couldn’t be in the field, Allan was riding the desk. Waiting on word of what his team could do next.
The waiting sucked.
Allan had asked him specifically to get an update on the shooting of Jaynice Miller’s case.
Ken had been more than willing to give them that.
Max wished his team was working on it, but after what had happened to Jaynice Miller, his team had taken over the entire human trafficking case from Allan Knight’s people while they split their time between the hospital with Jaynice and helping Team Four work the sniper case. It had become personal for them, like it would for any of team, and they were almost fully sidelined. Except for work inside the FBI building itself.
It was only Ken Chalmers pulling strings that had kept them active at all.
Max understood. If it was one of the people on his team who had been hit so randomly—and from what Max had heard, that was the way things were leaning—he would be full of questions and anger, too.
Max’s case was tying itself up neatly. One thing about people, even of the criminal type...when you had more than one involved in something, the weaker it became. Especially when half the criminals in the organization were...stupid. And big-mouthed.
That was the case with this particular group.
They had most of the lower level idiots rounded up now. It was just the ringleader who was still at large. But that was coming in its own time.
He was just standing up from his twenty-minute discussion with Allan Knight when his phone rang.
It was time to get back out there and do his job.
Before he left Allan’s office, he said a quick prayer that Jaynice held on just a little longer. The longer she did, the better her chances were.
Prayer was all they had now.
SEVENTY-NINE
CHAS FORCED HIS body to remain rigid. Where he was at was not the greatest place to pick a target.
It was a residential area with the types of houses he’d like to buy for Shannon someday. Beautiful houses. Houses she’d never be able to afford with the paltry eighty thousand she made a year with PAVAD.
But he made far more than that each year.
He had the money. His job paid extremely well, after all. His last tax return listed his consultant income at more than two and a half million.
He could afford a place like this. Easily.
It was an older, but affluent neighborhood. Lots of history. Lots of signs of children around.
Including at the house he was watching.
Chas would have to be extra careful. He’d never hit a child before. He wasn’t about to start now.
Chas took a moment to stretch and look around some more. The plumbing was still working. The air. Probably because the place was listed for sale.
It was extremely comfortable. Perfect.
He wondered. She’d probably like the house he was holed up in now. It had plenty of bedrooms for the children. Shannon would want more than one.
He knew she’d grown up with several brothers. She was used to a large family. And the way she loved children...
She would be a wonderful mother.
Chas had no doubt about that.
The man he was after was a cold and terrifying bastard. At least, that was the man’s reputation.
Chas had studied him for several weeks. It had been a funny moment when he realized why some of what he was seeing hadn’t added up.
He thought he’d seen the man with three different women and a host of different children.
Chas had been convinced the man was a polygamist who had deserved what was about to happen to him. He’d thought about making it a fatal shot, but that wasn’t what the client wanted.
Chas needed the repeat business.
Seed money for him and Shannon would come in handy. Take the edge off while they found their home and got it just the way she liked it.
Once he’d realized the target had two identical brothers, it had made sense. He’d laughed for several days over that.
It would have been nice if the client had given him that information ahead of time, though. It would have saved a few extra steps along the way.
That all three worked for PAVAD was surprising, though.
Incidental.
But he did wonder how well Shannon knew the man, his brothers, or their wives.
Were they friends, possibly?
He hoped not.
Hurting her was the last thing he had ever wanted.
But that money... Ultimately, every penny he earned would go toward taking care of her. Shannon would understand. Eventually.
Chas aimed. And pulled the trigger.
EIGHTY
SHANNON SPENT HOURS with the digital forensics techs, going over videos of the shootings. They gained nothing definitive. There were a couple of men she was trying to identify, but she had nothing unique to go on.
The two men on the video had very cleverly avoided all cameras with a skill that spoke volumes. They had not wanted to be seen or identified.
She looked at Ben, the guy who could do video analysis faster than anyone she’d ever seen. “Anything?”
“No. I’m sorry. I can’t even get you an accurate height. A range, yes, but that’s it. He may be wearing heels to make himself look taller. The photos are just too grainy to see.”
Shannon nodded. It wasn’t what they needed to hear. But it was another piece of the profile they could work with.
“Thanks, Ben. I owe you one.”
“How about that drink you owe me from last week? There’s this dinner thing Tuesday night. Theater. My sister’s kid has an actual paid role. I told them I’d go. You interested in going with me? We can go out afterward.”
He shot her a hopeful look. She’d known of Ben’s interest before and had actually considered going out with him. He was cute and kind and spent most of his day in front of the computer. Not a dangerous day for him at all.
She’d been seriously considering it, a
ctually.
Before.
Now...all she could think about was Ezra.
Damn him. He’d so totally messed up her plans.
Shannon shook her head. The words came before she even realized she was going to say them. But they felt right. “I can’t. I’m...involved with someone right now.”
“Agent Hahn? I wondered.”
“Oh?”
“Something about the way the guy looks at you. I get it.” Ben grinned at her. But there was disappointment on his face. “Hey, I don’t mind coming in second place. If Hahn turns out to be a real jerk, you know where to find me. I’m right here, constantly working overtime.”
“I’ll keep that in mind—”
Shannon was interrupted as a red buzzer overhead sounded.
Everyone knew what that meant.
Something was very, very wrong.
And it was time to get back to her team, immediately.
EIGHTY-ONE
THE BUZZER WAS hooked to a system that was only controlled by two people—Ed Dennis, director of PAVAD, and Agent Len-Royale, his assistant.
When it sounded, everyone reported to their team leader immediately. That was the first rule written in the PAVAD policy manual.
It was only used in the direst of emergencies.
When one of PAVAD was in trouble.
No doubt it had been used when he and Shannon had been taken.
Ezra moved toward where the crowd was gathering near the front side of the bullpen. There was a raised platform there that connected to the bank of offices.
Offices which were emptying quickly.
People were coming from all corners of the building to the largest bullpen—the CCU’s. They’d all been trained well—from experience. Far too many in PAVAD had run into some serious trouble at one time or another.
Ezra forced himself not to tense.
Someone bumped him and he looked down at lopsided freckles and worried brown eyes.
Seeking (PAVAD: FBI Romantic Suspense, #15) Page 16
