Snapped

by Laura Griffin

  As evidenced by the fact that his hands were still sneaking under her shirt. He cupped her breasts and moved the lace aside with his thumbs, and she decided she didn’t care if he was rushing this. They could take it slow later, when they’d gotten this blinding lust out of the way. He squeezed her gently with his big hands.

  She loved the way he touched her. Tipping back her head, she pulled the shirt off, and he helped her free it from her arms. He flung it on the floor and locked his mouth on her breast.

  She closed her eyes and combed her fingers into his hair. It was thick and surprisingly soft, and she liked that he had so much of it. She hoped he wouldn’t be one of those men who lost it all early. And then she pushed the thought away because it was way, way too long range, and she couldn’t let herself think like that. She just wanted to think about the here and now, and how amazing his mouth felt against her skin, and how everything he did to her made her blood rush.

  She shifted on his lap, and he groaned, deep in his chest. She did it again and watched his eyes drift open. He glanced down at her breasts and froze.

  “Damn, Sophie.”

  She followed his gaze to her line of bruises, green today. He traced his finger over her abdomen, and she saw his jaw harden.

  “It doesn’t hurt,” she whispered, reaching back to unhook her bra. She tossed it away and distracted him by kissing him.

  Her fingers trailed over the bristles along his jaw as she licked into his mouth and he played with her breasts. She rolled her hips against the hard bulge in his jeans.

  He pulled back and gave her a desperate look. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  She smiled and reached for his shirt. He pulled it over his head and dropped it on the floor. Man. Jeans. Gun. She sat back and sighed contentedly as he unbuckled his belt and loosened it from his holster. She watched his muscles ripple as he pulled the belt loose and stretched his arm back to stow the holster in the space behind the seat. Then he reached his arms around her to adjust the steering wheel, and she felt a shiver of lust as their bare skin touched. He racked the seat back, giving them more room.

  “Seems like you’ve done this before.”

  He pulled her hips, and she tipped forward and fell against him.

  “True,” he said. “But I think I was about sixteen.”

  She braced her hand against his shoulder, and he glanced down at her breasts.

  “Sixteen, huh? I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. It lasted maybe two minutes.”

  His lips moved down her neck, and he shifted lower in the seat until she was leaning over him. He kissed her and licked her until she squirmed away from him and scooted back. She undid the snap of his jeans, then slid her hand inside and smiled at the very male groan he made as she touched him. The next thing she knew, he’d rolled her onto her back, swapping their places, and he was working on her zipper. There was an urgency now, and she could tell he was done playing around. She kicked off her sandals. Together, they wrestled with her jeans, and he ended up in the seat beside her so she could stretch her legs out while he tugged the cuffs free. Now she was down to a skimpy bit of purple lace, and he moved it aside impatiently so he could touch her.

  She closed her eyes and gasped, gripping his shoulders as he hovered over her. It was too good, too much, and she started to see stars behind her eyelids. She felt the last bit of fabric being slipped down her legs, and then he moved under her, rolling her on top again, only this time she was naked. She glanced around and couldn’t believe she was doing this out in the open this way.

  “Jonah, do you think—”

  “No one can see us.” He hurriedly unzipped his jeans, and then grabbed her hips and—

  She gasped. He moved beneath her, and she gasped again. And then he clutched her hips and pulled her against him, hard, and she yelped. As she gripped his shoulders and ground herself against him, she felt the heat building and building between them. His eyes were closed, his face taut. He looked almost in pain, and she felt the exact same way because that full, perfect feeling she wanted stayed just out of reach.

  “Jonah. Oh my God.”

  “Tell me when, honey.”

  She grasped his shoulders and closed her eyes and strained to get closer and closer and … he shifted beneath her. “Yes. Oh, yes. I love that. I love you. Jonah!”

  He plunged deeper, and suddenly everything was too hard, and too bright, and too intense. A wave of pleasure crashed over her, and she shuddered in his arms and went to pieces. She slumped against him as he squeezed her tight and finished riding the same wave.

  The truck went silent. The only sound was the buzz of insects outside. Her cheek was pressed against his shoulder. Their chests were glued together with sweat. She felt his arms, draped heavily over her back, anchoring her against him.

  Her words came back to her, and she felt a flush all the way to her scalp. Maybe he hadn’t heard. Maybe he’d been too caught up in the moment to notice. Or maybe he’d think it was one of those things she said in the throes of passion.

  Only she’d never said it to anyone. Not like this. She didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or panicked.

  His arms slid off of her and he groaned.

  She was crushing him. She pushed back from his chest and brushed her hair out of her face. His eyes were still shut, and he looked totally blissed out. She took advantage of the chance to compose herself. Her bra was draped over the gearshift, and she pulled it on.

  “How did we manage to steam up the windows? It’s ninety degrees out.”

  He opened his eyes slightly. “It’s hotter in here.” He reached out and pulled her against his chest, and she tentatively settled her head there.

  “You’re sweaty,” he said.

  “Um, hello? So are you.”

  “Just an observation.”

  “This was your idea.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and sighed heavily. “Best sunset I ever saw.”

  They lay there for a while and she listened to his heart slow. She traced her finger over his chest and hoped this wasn’t going to be awkward now. She could handle him ignoring what she’d said, but she didn’t know if she could handle his rejection. She imagined him giving her some line about how he liked her, he just didn’t want a commitment, and her stomach twisted into a knot.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving. How’d you know?”

  “You were starving last time, too. I figured maybe it’s a thing.”

  She sat up, and this time he sat with her. She slid into the passenger seat and tried—with as much grace as she could—to locate and reassemble her clothes. She glanced up and caught him watching her as she leaned back against the seat and zipped up her jeans.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  She tossed his shirt at him, and he pulled it on. Another sideways look.

  “What?” she demanded.

  He shook his head and started the truck. He blasted the A/C and pointed a vent in her direction. “How about steaks and potatoes?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I’ll fire up the grill.” He looked at her. “And then we need to talk.”

  Gretchen opened the door to her sister’s condo and wasn’t surprised to see Sean.

  “Long way from San Marcos, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve left you three messages. Why haven’t you called me?” He stepped inside without an invitation.

  “I was about to. I’ve been busy all afternoon.”

  “With what?”

  “I met with an attorney. He’s a friend of my sister’s. I wanted to get his advice, make sure I’m not breaking any laws here.”

  “And what’d he tell you?”

  “That I should be careful what I say to you.” She looked him over and sighed. He’d driven a long way just to talk to her, so it must be important. So much for the legal advice.

  “Come on in.” She led him into the kitchen, and he watched her impatiently a
s she took a few glasses down from a cabinet and filled them with water.

  “Did you read my e-mail, at least?” he asked.

  “What e-mail?”

  “I sent you a drawing. We have a witness who may have seen Sharpe.”

  “Sharpe?” She handed him a glass and he set it down on the bar.

  “That’s his alias. He’s the man who hired your husband. We need an ID on him ASAP, and we finally got a suspect sketch from this witness who saw him on campus, parking Jim’s car.”

  Gretchen stared at him, her pulse racing now. Thank God her children were in hiding with Marianne. They were at an out-of-the-way place no one could possibly know about.

  “I didn’t get the picture. Maybe it went into my spam folder.” Gretchen walked into her sister’s bedroom, which doubled as an office. The bed was unmade, but she ignored it as she sat down in the chair and turned on the system.

  “Something happened, didn’t it?” She turned to look at Sean and felt a wave of alarm.

  “Why aren’t you with your kids?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer.

  “You shouldn’t be here, Gretchen. This location’s too obvious.”

  “I figure, if someone wants to come looking for me or the money, they’ll find me but not the girls.”

  “They may not want money,” Sean said. “We think Sharpe’s responsible for a hit on a reporter and the attempted murder of the witness who gave us the sketch.”

  Gretchen looked at the computer and bit her lip. The screen came to life, and she entered Marianne’s password.

  “Maybe I’ll join them,” she said. “I don’t know. I just thought it would be safer this way.”

  “Gretchen, did either of your girls ever have a security blanket with a rabbit on it?”

  She turned to look at him and felt the blood drain from her face. “Mr. Bunny?”

  “Was it beige? A stuffed animal with a blanket attached?”

  “What happened?” She jumped to her feet and darted across the room to snatch up the phone. She dialed Marianne’s cell number.

  “Calm down. Nothing happened.”

  “That’s Angela’s blanket! It’s been missing for weeks. How did you know about it?”

  “Hello?” Marianne said on the other end.

  “It’s me. Where’s Angie?” Gretchen held her breath.

  “She’s right here, why?”

  “What about Amy? Are you all okay?”

  “We’re fine.” Pause. “Gretch, what’s wrong?”

  She looked across the room at Sean.

  “Gretchen?”

  “Nothing. I was just checking in.” She didn’t want to terrify her. “Sorry. I’ll call you later, okay? Give the girls a hug for me.”

  She hung up the phone and stared down at her hands. She was shaking now. She felt sick. She glanced up.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said. “I need to know.”

  He hesitated.

  “Sean—”

  “The blanket was recovered from Jim’s motel room—the place he stayed the night before the shooting.”

  “I don’t understand. How would Jim have Angie’s blanket? He hadn’t seen her in a year.”

  “Someone else might have taken it. To threaten him. To make sure he didn’t back out at the last minute.” Sean paused. “The rabbit’s ears were cut off.”

  Gretchen felt the world falling out from under her.

  “Whoa.” Sean lunged over and caught her as she slid to the floor. He helped her up onto the bed. “Head between your knees.” He pushed her head down, and Gretchen stared at her bare feet.

  He was threatening the girls. Whoever this was knew about the twins and was threatening them.

  “You okay?”

  She sat up, slowly. She felt dizzy. Terrified.

  “Who is this?” She jumped up. “I want to know who this is! I’ll kill him myself!”

  “Calm down.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! These are my children! What do you know about children? You don’t even have any!” Tears streamed down her cheeks and she looked helplessly at the phone. God, if anything happened to her daughters, she’d die. She’d just curl up and die.

  She looked at the detective, who was eyeing her warily.

  “Sorry.” She covered her face with her hands. “That wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean to attack you like that. I’m just—” She swiped the tears away. “I’m just terrified.” She looked over at him. “What can I do? I need to do something.”

  “You need to go be with your kids. Are they somewhere safe?”

  She took a deep breath and tried to pull it together. “They’re in a state park in Georgia. My sister rented a cabin. They’re hours from anywhere. No one knows about them. I’m going to go there,” she said, making the decision right there on the spot. “I need to be with them.”

  “That’s probably best.”

  She returned to the computer. “Now, show me this picture you sent. I doubt I can help, though. I didn’t know that many of Jim’s army friends. Most of them were single. When did you send the photo?”

  “This morning, around eleven.”

  She sat down and opened her account. Sure enough, there was an e-mail from him in the spam folder. She opened the message and then the attachment.

  A picture came up on the screen, and Gretchen’s blood ran cold. She brought her hand to her throat. “Oh my God. This is him? This is the man calling himself Sharpe?”

  “What? Who is it?”

  “Joe Shugart. He’s not some army buddy—they grew up together.” She looked at Sean. “This man was in our wedding.”

  Sophie was a conversational pro, and she managed to keep the small talk going all the way through dinner. And afterward, just when Jonah was ready to bring up something serious, she distracted him again by taking off her clothes.

  She lay beside him now, pretending to be asleep as Jonah stared at the ceiling and tried to map out a plan. She couldn’t stay here, not after tonight, anyway. Things were escalating, and he no longer felt safe with this ad hoc arrangement. He’d talked to Ric earlier about bringing in the FBI, and they’d hatched a plan to do it, even at the risk of going over Chief Noonan’s head. Some of what Maxwell had told Allison and Sean involved federal defense contracts, which meant federal charges—possibly even treason. No one on the task force would be thrilled to bring in the feds, but their involvement would mean help on the witness protection front. The possible sale of military secrets qualified as a Big Fucking Deal and made the whole investigation—literally—a federal case.

  Jonah’s cell buzzed from the floor. He gently rolled Sophie onto her side and grabbed his jeans off the carpet. He fished the phone out.

  “Yeah?”

  “We got an ID,” Sean said.

  “Hang on.” Jonah tossed the phone down and pulled his jeans on. He tucked his Glock in the back of his pants as he watched Sophie still pretending to be asleep while she eavesdropped. He knew she was pretending because she wasn’t making that faint sniffling noise she did when she was actually out. Jonah stepped outside of the camper and put the phone to his ear again.

  “DNA came back?”

  “No, based on the picture,” Sean said. “Himmel’s ex recognized him. Joe Shugart, aka John Sharpe. Guy was a Ranger, special-ops regiment, before he got dishonorably discharged back in ’05.”

  “Why’d he get discharged?”

  “Still working on the details there. Anyway, after that he went rogue, joined some private mercenary outfit where he worked under an alias.”

  “Name doesn’t ring a bell,” Jonah said. “They go through any training together? I thought I checked everyone out.”

  “Connection’s deeper than that. Turns out they went to high school together. This guy was in their wedding.”

  “Damn.”

  “And listen to this. I’ve spent the last three hours running down his background. He hasn’t filed a tax return in five years. No current address. No
bank account. He’s living totally off the grid.”

  Jonah paused. That wasn’t the sort of background check they had access to down at the station. “You brought in Ric’s brother, who was with the FBI.”

  “We need some help on this thing,” Sean said. “These witnesses—”

  “Hey, I’m with you. What did he say?”

  “He’s working on it. Might have something by tomorrow. Then it’s going to be a matter of getting Sophie Barrett and Gretchen Parker on board. Neither one strikes me as the type to go quietly into hiding while a bunch of feds track down their man and prepare a trial. And what about afterwards? Not sure they’re going to want to just start their lives over somewhere.”

  “There’s not going to be a trial for Sharpe,” Jonah said.

  Silence as Sean absorbed his meaning.

  “It may not be up to us.”

  Jonah didn’t dispute that, but he knew what he knew. If someone managed to track down Sharpe, only one person was walking away.

  Jonah intended to be that person.

  “I’ve been thinking about this technology,” Sean said now.

  “So have I.”

  “Some college student isn’t likely to find a buyer for information like that, no matter how smart he is.”

  “No shit,” Jonah said. “I buy that Emrick was a hacker and stumbled into something important. I don’t believe he was trying to sell it, though. Maybe he figured out someone else was.”

  “Maxwell,” Sean said.

  “Exactly. He was probably looking for a buyer after the government pulled the plug on the project. He was using Sharpe to do the legwork for him because of his network. Sharpe probably cut himself into the deal, too.”

  “So, your military connection—he know whether they actually started implementing this thing before the funding got yanked?”

  “You mean do some of our operators actually have those chips implanted?” Jonah asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know, but just the possibility makes this stuff all the more attractive on the black market. Every hostile government and radical terrorist org in the world will be chomping at the bit to get ahold of this technology. Maxwell could probably get a fortune for it.”

  “This guy Sharpe wore a uniform once,” Sean said. “Hard to believe he’d do that to his own country.”