by Fiona Quinn
“I’m not sure where they’ve got her. Pavle didn’t say. So you’re coming home now? Could you bring me some Nacho-flavored Doritos and some chocolate Ben and Jerry’s?”
“Yeah, that’s fine, baby.” Steve tried not to let his emotions come anywhere near his words. If Danika picked up on anything wrong, he could be the next one in Pavle’s assassin’s crosshairs. He needed to play the game to stay in the game. He needed to move the ball and move it fast.
He knew that any chance of saving Lacey was thin. And he was terrified about what techniques they might use on her while they tried to get her to talk. Talk about what, though? He’d have to ask Danika in person, when he had her full attention. “I’ll swing by the grocery store. I have one quick errand to run first.”
“K. Hurry.”
As soon as Steve swiped the red button, Higgins was back on the line.
"Steve, man, Monroe wants you in the office ASAP.”
“Yeah, alright.” Steve reached out to turn the key and crank his engine. He’d be glad to get some warm air blowing. “Did he come up with something?”
“Yeah, our snitch says Pavle’s got your name out for a hit.”
Steve could feel his heart beat accelerating. His armpits were damp with a sudden sweat. “I just talked to Danika. She’d find some way to warn me if that was true.”
“You sure? What was she calling about?”
“Yes, I’m sure. She’s got the munchies. It’s her time of the month. So everything will go smoother if I stop and pick her up some carbs and chocolate on the way back to the apartment.”
“She said that? Bring her back some carbs?”
“Doritos and ice cream, if you need the list.”
“And she was calling you from where?”
“The apartment. She wanted me to come home with junk food. What’s with these questions, man?”
“Yeah, here’s the problem with that scenario. Monroe asked us to pick Danika up, right? Keep the body count down? So we’ve got our boys out looking. I pulled the short straw, and I’ve been freezing my ass in the van, watching her place all day. From where I parked, I can keep an eye on Lacey’s front door, too. Lacey hasn’t come home yet, no one’s turned on the lights up there, and the lights are out at Danika’s, too. They’ve been off all day. At Danika’s, though, there’s voices, male voices speaking what sounds a whole lot like Slovakian, but you’d know better than me. No female voices and nothing coming up as a positive on voice recognition.”
“Wait. Let me get this straight. Danika calls me, making me think she’s at home, asks me to go back to the apartment right away, and says she needs me to bring munchies. But her lights are off, and you didn’t record her talking to me – all you got were male voices. How many?”
“Four, from what I can tell,” Higgins said. “They’ve put on the lights in the front room of the apartment and drew the drapes. I can hear the music from down here. I don’t even need to have my headphones on. They’ve got the place rocking, and ready for your arrival, ice-cream delivery boy. Looks like your time playing with the Zoric family has come to an end, my friend. Monroe called it; they’ve got their guys waiting for you. You showed your colors at the press conference. There’s no way they could overlook that, man. I know it’s against your core to walk away, but trying to keep that reporter alive when she was a lost cause sunk your ship, dude. I’ll let Monroe know what’s going on. I’d head home to your real apartment for tonight. We can gather our task force in the morning and figure out our next move.”
“Yeah, man, okay. Shit.” Steve had accidentally run a stop sign, and now his rear-view mirror was lit up with red and blue lights. He patted his belt, then remembered he didn’t have his FBI ID on him. Well, this ticket was going to Steve Adamic, anyway. Steve Finley would still have a clean record. “A boy in blue’s pulling me over. Are you going to stay there and watch for Danika?” Steve asked. “I don’t want her walking into that apartment.”
“Yeah, I’ll try to grab her before she goes in. We need her testimony, and between you and me? It’s feeling like her hours are numbered.”
Chapter Ten
Lacey
Saturday Morning
Lacey woke up not knowing where she was. She cast her eyes around the room, then down at the pink flannel pajamas a couple of sizes too big. I’m at Lynx’s house. I’m safe.
She slid slowly out from under the warm covers and pulled on Lynx’s thick terrycloth robe and a pair of socks before she made her way out of the guestroom. The door to the front room where Deep slept stood wide open. She padded down to take a peek in. His bed was made with precision. Unlike the haphazard way that Steve would toss the covers, Deep’s duvet looked like you could bounce a quarter off the top. She smiled.
Deep’s room had windows that lined up with the front of the house. Edged with curtains, beautifully embroidered with white on white leaves, the windowpanes were painted with the feathery strokes of blue morning frost backlit by a dove-colored sky. Lacey longed to go over and see what the neighborhood looked like. But she had promised to go dark and live this weird little shadow existence. She couldn’t take the chance that someone might see her, recognize her, and bring attention to her from the wrong people. Though who the “right people” were – well, she was still guessing at that.
Lacey moved to the bathroom, where she gave her teeth a quick brush, gave her hair a quick comb, and tried hard not to focus on the dark circles under her eyes. Lacey let her nose lead the way as she followed the rich oily aroma of freshly brewed coffee. As she made her way through the house, Lacey seemed to be the only one there. She wondered where Deep could have gone. When she made it to the kitchen, she discovered it was much colder than the rest of the rooms. She thought she might take her coffee into the dining room, where a cheerful fire snapped.
As she reached up for a mug where she’d seen Lynx place them the day before, Lacey saw Lynx and Deep standing together outside. Lynx had her hands on top of Deep’s forearms and Deep had reached his hands underneath to support her elbows. They stood locked together as they talked. Then Lynx released Deep’s arms to rise up on her tiptoes and give him a hug. If Lynx kissed him, Lacey decided instantly, she’d walk right out the front door and move on down the street. That thought came as a complete surprise. It was shocking how bitterly jealousy sat on her tongue, and Lacey wondered where those feelings had sprung from. She had no room for jealousy – only gratitude.
Lynx caught Lacey’s eye through the frost coated widow and gave her a friendly wave and smile, then she released Deep and moved through the back gates, her prancing black Dobermans cavorting at her heels. Lacey would have liked a chance to have pet Lynx’s dogs.
When Deep came inside, his arms were full of bags.
Lacey quickly moved over to shut the door behind him. “What’s this?” she asked.
“Lynx went shopping for you. She thought you’d be more comfortable in clothes your own size.”
Lacey rifled through the bags. She couldn’t believe how well Lynx had chosen things for her. Not simply her size, but her personal style – the one she wore when she was comfortably at home and not dressed for public view. There was even a bag from Victoria’s Secret. Okay, that was a little odd. She was grateful, but, hmmm, still . . . Lacey frowned as she looked up to catch Deep’s gaze.
“I told you, didn’t I, that I first met Lynx when I was guarding her at a safehouse?”
“You mentioned a safehouse, yes.”
“So she knows a thing or two about how that can feel. She says she hopes you’ll forgive her for any mistakes in picking things out.”
“Oh, no. This is all so very kind of her. I’ll be sure to tell her how grateful I am when she comes back.”
Deep shook his head. “That probably won’t happen. Lynx came by this morning to let me know that our boss lent her to Echo Force, one of the other teams at Iniquus. She’s headed out of town to look at some evidence and try to lay a trail.”
“You said you
r team is ‘down range.’ What does that mean exactly?”
“They’re off on assignment. I was scheduled for R and R. It’s required that we take time off every few months so we’ve got our head in the game when we’re on duty.”
“Then you shouldn’t be here with me. This is more on-the-job time, right? This is what you do?”
“More or less. My job’s pretty diverse.” Deep moved to the fridge, where he pulled out the makings of breakfast.
“I’m sorry,” Lacey said.
Deep turned to her—his hands full of eggs, cheese, and vegetable—and tipped his head.
“That you’re here with me, when you should be relaxing.”
The warmth of the smile that Deep sent her way stopped her breath. She gazed at him and thought she had never seen such a gorgeous, capable man in her life. How was it possible that someone like her had found a man not only willing but able to run in front of a speeding bullet to save her? He was the reason her brains were still safely stored in her head. Good things didn’t normally come Lacey’s way. And while bullets and bad guys definitely weren’t good, Deep most definitely was.
Maybe too good. She took in a faltering breath and released it in a sigh.
“Hey, now.” He was suddenly by her side, tumbling the food onto the table, and reaching for her hands. “None of that. I’m here because I want to be, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly. “Was everything alright outside? Lynx seemed a little upset when you two were speaking.” Lacey wished he’d pull her into a hug. She longed to rest her cheek on his chest and listen to his heart beat and feel his arms wrapped protectively around her.
“She’s concerned that Iniquus picked up the contract to find you, so she was warning me off making contact with the office. She isn’t sure; she didn’t hear if any of the teams picked up the assignment, but your name was floating around the halls when she was over there this morning.”
“She was already at the office, and then drove here?” Lacey glanced at the wall clock. “It’s hard to believe she went to bed at all.”
“She didn’t.” Deep released her hands and went to pull a frying pan from under the counter. “Last night, she was running information on Steve – Lynx only had time to do a cursory investigation, but she says everything checks out.”
“You said that with a funny tone.” Lacey pulled the lapels of the robe tighter across her chest and dipped her chin under the fabric.
“Yeah, she said that, on paper, Steve’s a little too clean. Something seems off to her, but she didn’t have time to dig enough to find out why.” Deep caught Lacey’s eyes, and it felt as if he were trying to drill down and find a truth. Lacey lowered her lashes and looked at her fingers, knotted in her lap.
“Oh, okay,” was all Lacey could figure to say.
“She pulled your calendar from October and November. She thought it might be interesting to get a timeline going – where did you go when, and why you thought they took those particular photos. She also said that there is something majorly off about the photos. Something was niggling her about them the whole time she was looking at them. But again, she didn’t have time to pin it down.”
“Something niggled at her?” Lacey wrinkled her nose.
“Do you know what Lynx does for Iniquus?”
Lacey shook her head.
“She’s our Puzzler. It means you hand her a bunch of odd pieces, and she sees how they fit together. It’s really kind of nuts how she pulls some of this stuff off. Believe me, if Lynx says there’s something there, there’s something there. I just wish she was playing on our team while we figure this out. But it looks like it’s going to be you and me.”
“Are you sure this is a game you want to play?” Lacey whispered. Her voice was colored with hope that honestly felt more like fear.
He sent her a happy grin. “It’s been pretty fun so far.” He cracked an egg into the mixing bowl. “Are you ready for my famous Frittata Italian?”
***
With breakfast over and dishes cleared, they moved to the dining room, where Deep stoked the fire to make the sparks fly. The smell of hardwood burning was comforting, and for a moment Lacey was back in her grandparents’ house on a snow day, drinking hot chocolate and listening to her nana reading from Charlotte’s Web. She must have been about four years old. It was one of her nicer memories from childhood, and she wished she could live in that picture a while longer.
Deep unrolled a huge tube of white paper across the dining room table. “When Lynx starts a puzzle, she likes to get things out there visually. She says that if you see it, say it, hear it, write it, and think it, it gets more parts of your brain working. And I’ve found she’s right. So I thought we might try this with your photos.”
While Deep covered the table with paper, Lacey dashed upstairs to change into a pair of black yoga pants. She pulled a thigh-length sweater, knit from the softest mohair, from one of the shopping bags. She thought the rich plum color made her brown eyes particularly pretty, and found herself hoping Deep would think so, too. She swept her hair into a makeshift bun on the nape of her neck and hurried back down to the dining room, where Deep held a jar of colored markers. He placed them gingerly on top of the credenza, then fished around, looking for something else.
Lacey moved over to stand beside him. The smell of smoke and the outdoors had caught in Deep’s sweater. Steve always smelled like men’s lemony aftershave, which seemed urban and somehow feminine to her. Really, she should find a way to get word to Steve that she was okay, she thought once again. But the solution to that problem hadn’t come to her. And there was that back and forth that had gone on between Deep and Lynx — something about not being sure about what team Steve was playing on. Could he be a bad guy? Could he have set her up somehow? That didn’t resonate as right with her – but then again, it didn’t resonate as wrong, either. Maybe she should talk that over with Deep?
Lacey felt guilt wash over her. Standing there thinking about Steve made her feel like she was cheating on Deep. Even though it was Steve who had been her boyfriend, and Deep was . . . was what? A guy who risked his life to save hers. A guy who gave up his vacation to dive in front of a bullet. I guy who was so darned cute that he’d made her dreams last night particularly difficult to pull herself from this morning.
Deep glanced up at her from where he’d bent over the drawer. “What?”
“You dove in front of a bullet for me. Who does that?”
“I didn’t dive in front of a bullet. I dove under a bullet.” He smiled. “There’s a difference.”
It was Lacey’s turn to ask, “What?”
“The laser sight was focused on your forehead. You’re about five-foot-two, right? So as long as I kept myself down around four feet, I wasn’t in much danger.”
Lacey didn’t know what to do with that. She saw the laughter in Deep’s eyes. This must be gallows humor, she thought. Probably some kind of soldier coping-mechanism he’d developed in the Middle East. But Lacey didn’t find anything funny about the situation at all. And he did too risk himself for her—otherwise he would have stood there and watched her die. “Five-foot-one,” she mumbled.
Dear God, she’d nearly died. Someone had aimed a bullet at her head. Lacey reached out to the wall to steady herself. She needed a drink – a double shot of bourbon to defrost her veins. This whole mess made her glacial inside. She couldn’t imagine ever feeling warm again.
What she really needed to do was get busy fixing this, figure everything out, and regain control. Control of her life. Control of her emotions. All of these horrible feelings would go away once she was back in control. Her eye snagged on a printout of her calendar. She picked up the papers.
“Deep?” she asked as he moved back over to the table and lay out the ruler, pens, and markers. “How did Lynx get hold of this information?” She turned the pages so Deep could see.
“They were on your computer.”
“But you said not to access my computer be
cause people could track me, and I never gave you my password for Carbonite.”
Deep’s ears turned pink at the tips. “You know, you were under investigation when we were working through the Iniquus art theft.”
Lacey nodded.
“Well we – I—I hacked into your computer, and we have an in-house copy of your hard drive.”
Now Lacey understood why his ears had turned red, like a little boy who had been caught in the act of stealing candy. What right did he have? Hack her computer? Oh, no. Lacey’s hands came up to frame her face as her eyes stretched wide. He had looked through her computer. There were pictures. Her personal, private pictures. Pictures from her childhood that she used to remind herself of how far she’d come. A demarcation of “that was then, and this is now.” Pictures that she didn’t want to share.
Deep seemed to understand the look she shot him, because he followed up with, “The only thing that I looked at was your email correspondence with Japan. I would never look through a lady’s computer. That would be pretty scummy. I mean, I have sisters, and if they ever caught me reading their diaries, well, I’m sure I wouldn’t be around today.” He smiled with the chuckle of a private joke and shook his head. “You know my family’s Italian. We tend to get passionate about things. Living in such a small space, my sisters were definitely passionate about their privacy.”
She gripped the turtleneck collar at the top and stretched it up to cover her chin. “But someone else could have gone through it? Seen things?”
“Only my teammates, and believe me, our plates are so full, we’re not randomly looking through computer files.”
“Now that that case is closed, can you destroy what you have or return it to me?”
“I’ll ask Colonel Grant for permission. We’ll figure it out. What’s on there that you don’t want me to see?” He looked out of the corner of his eye at her, and she could swear there was more than a hint of teasing in his smile. But to her there was nothing funny about this. Those pictures should have been safe, and now she felt more exposed than ever. Lacey felt her face warming as she blushed.
