by Dana Mentink
Trainer Rusty Morton rushed over, tossing the rag he’d been using on the ground. “Oh, man. Is that Rocket? I heard he’d been sighted on and off in the woods and raiding garbage cans. I left out food and water where they said they’d spotted him.” He leaned over to stroke the dog’s ears tenderly. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, buddy.”
Puzzlement played across Felicity’s face as she handed the dog into Rusty’s arms. “Hang on to him for a minute while I alert the vet, okay?”
Ethan shared her uncertainty. Rusty was on the list of Sullivan’s potential accomplices, under scrutiny from the investigation team as he’d been a friend of Boyd Sullivan’s during their basic training days.
But Ethan saw tears shining in the guy’s eyes. They weren’t fake, he was certain. That contradicted Ethan’s earlier suspicions. He made a note to mention it to the investigative team leader Captain Blackwood. Surely a guy who loved dogs as much as Rusty wouldn’t have helped Sullivan let the animals loose, would he?
Ethan thought about his friend Landon. Man, he missed talking to him about anything and everything.
“You okay?” Felicity asked.
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Just thinking about Martelli.”
“We miss him, too,” she said quietly.
Ethan’s phone rang and he moved away to answer it, Titus roaming the enclosed yard.
“Heard you got into some trouble near Baylor, Lieutenant,” Justin Blackwood said. He was a captain in the Security Forces and a veteran of two tours of duty in Afghanistan, which gave him stellar credentials in Ethan’s book, the perfect guy to be the leader of the team trying to hunt down Boyd Sullivan. “Was the shooting Sullivan’s work?”
“Uncertain, sir. Doesn’t seem like his MO.” Ethan felt the tension crackling through the phone.
“I wouldn’t rule it out completely. Sullivan was spotted near Baylor Marine Corps Base hours prior to your shooting incident.”
Ethan’s pulse ticked up a notch as Blackwood continued.
“A marine has been killed off base, his uniform and ID are gone.”
Ethan’s stomach dropped at the news of another murder. And now Sullivan had access to the base and Kendra. Perhaps the shooting really was a case of mistaken identity?
“We’ve got our hands full on this case,” Blackwood said. “I know you’d rather be doing anything other than working with Jillian and Masters, but maybe you can find that lead we’re all looking for.”
“I’ll do what I can, sir,” he said.
“Fair enough. Keep me posted.”
“Yes, sir,” Ethan said, disconnecting.
His eyes landed on Rusty as he cooed to the pup, who looked half-starved in the training center lights. Immediately he thought about Kendra cradling the pet carrier, tears glistening in her eyes, knowing her cat was lost like Rocket had been.
Your fault, Ethan.
On impulse, he sent her a text.
Did you find your cat?
Should he add something like another apology? An “I hope so” or something to soften it?
“I’m glad to have Rocket returned,” Westley said. “But there are still plenty of dogs on the loose as well as a serial killer.” He looped a protective arm around Felicity’s shoulders.
A text materialized on Ethan’s cell phone screen.
No.
He imagined Kendra’s lip caught between her teeth, a sheen of moisture in those brown eyes, the same brown as the glossy acorns that festooned the trees on his mother’s property back home.
She’s been the only one... Kendra had said of Baby, and he thought he had an inkling about the rest. The only one to understand, to listen to the painful things that could not be spoken to human listeners, the only one who did not judge, did not condemn. He got it. Titus had heard more about Ethan’s life story than anyone, except for the One who’d seen him through it.
He nodded to Felicity and Westley. “Okay. Thanks for taking care of Rocket. I’ve got to get on the road.”
“Where to?” Felicity asked him.
“Back to Baylor.”
She quirked a look at him. “That’s a three-hour drive. Didn’t you just get back from there?”
“Yeah,” he said, with a weary sigh. But I’ve got to go find a cat.
* * *
Kendra had finally returned to Jillian’s rented home just outside base property somewhere after 7:00 p.m. It would be a short break to wolf down a granola bar and rehydrate. Then five minutes to change clothes and grab her pack and then she would search again for Baby. It was only another hour until sunset. Her stomach churned into nausea.
“Hang on, sweetie. I’m coming to get you.”
A knock at the door startled her. She pulled the curtain aside a crack. Ethan Webb stood on the doorstep, arms crossed, expression stony.
What now? She had no time for another row with him. She yanked the door open, staring him down. “Come to apologize?”
He quirked a brow. “For what?”
“Disrespecting me in front of my boss. Scaring my cat.”
“Disrespecting...” He rubbed a hand over his tanned face. “Whatever. We just have one piece of business left and then I’m hoping you’ll see reason and quit this job.”
She shook her head.
“You can’t trust Masters,” he said. “Get away from him as quick as you can. This situation is only going to get you hurt or killed.”
“Thanks for your concern, but you didn’t have to drive over here to tell me that. I’ve known Jillian for fifteen years so I’m well aware that her father is a manipulative man with no ethics.”
He gaped. “Then why would you work for him?”
Because I owe his daughter my life. She shrugged. “Not your business, but thanks for dropping by.”
“So you’re still going to persist in acting as a decoy for Sullivan?”
“Yes.”
His lips thinned, his nostrils flared and he started to speak, stopped, then started again, folding his arms across his broad chest.
Amused, she folded her arms to mirror his. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Wait here,” he snapped.
She was about to respond when he stalked to his car. Titus sat in the passenger seat, ears alert, snout poking through the open window. He reached into the back and returned with a blanket, pushing the bundle into her arms.
Her heart stopped at the sight of Baby, mewing plaintively. She could not hold back the tears that filled her eyes as she snuggled the cat under her chin. “You found her.”
He shrugged. “Cost me a couple hours of searching and a million mosquito bites, but yeah. Baby’s back. Titus was not thrilled about sharing his vehicle with a cat, but he’s grounded so he doesn’t get to complain about it.”
She laughed. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“You can call me Ethan,” he said. “I guess we’ll be stuck in this idiotic mission together if you won’t listen to reason.” With a sigh, he started to walk away.
“Wait.” She put a hand on his shoulder, muscles hard under her touch, and he turned back halfway. “I’m sorry for my rudeness. I really do appreciate what you did, more than I can put into words. Baby is...so much more than just a cat to me.”
She thought his cheeks might have pinked a bit, but she could not tell for certain. He blew out a breath and he turned to face her fully.
“I’m serious here. I know we got snarled up in the beginning, but Masters is trouble and so is his daughter. Neither of them cares who gets hurt, so long as they get what they want. You are expendable and so am I, do you get that?”
If she wasn’t mistaken, she thought she saw a deep-down pain shimmer in his eyes before he cleared his throat. She nodded. “I understand.”
His gaze lingered, poring over her face from under a thick fringe of lashes. “O
kay, well, it’s late,” he said. “We can work out the nuts and bolts tomorrow. Call if you need...you know...anything.”
He hesitated.
“Something else you wanted to say?” she said.
He held up his palms. “Now don’t get a burr under your saddle about it, but did you check the house? Make sure the doors and windows are secure?”
She grimaced, wishing she could have answered yes. “Um, actually, I was in such a hurry to go searching for Baby, I didn’t. I’m sure Jillian checked before she left.” Some PI you are, Kendra.
“Want me to...?”
“No,” she said firmly. “I can handle it, thank you.”
“All right, then.” He walked the few steps to his truck, where he leaned against the front fender. “Just wave at me when you get it done and I’ll scoot.”
“You always this pushy?”
“I’m as calm as clam shells on most days, but when there’s a serial killer roaming around, I get a little testy.”
Though his posture was relaxed, long legs stretched out, boots crossed at the ankles, she had a feeling he would stay there until she reported that the house was secure. Period.
“I’ll just be a minute.” Blowing out a breath she made a quick check of the tiny front room and the kitchen, depositing Baby on the linoleum with a bowl of water and some kitty kibble. It warmed her insides to see Baby chowing down with gusto. She felt a deep surge of gratitude toward Ethan that, for the moment, outweighed her frustration with him.
Kendra moved onto a small bedroom being used as a study. The area was sparse, minimally decorated, as was in keeping with Jillian’s unsentimental personality. Jillian hadn’t said exactly where she was staying while Kendra lived at her place, only that she’d keep in touch by phone. Jillian was not touchy-feely about friendships, either. When Kendra paid back the debt she owed Jillian for saving her life that long-ago summer day when she’d helped her escape from Andy, she suspected there would be no further connection between them.
Kendra hastened to the back of the house to check the master bedroom. She reached out a hand to push open the door and something large and soft fell from above. A paper sack split as it hit the floor and suddenly the room was alive with enraged wasps streaming out of a fragment of wasp nest.
In her panic, Kendra stumbled and fell backward, screaming as the stinging insects swarmed over her.
FOUR
Ethan slammed through the front door at the first scream. He was down the hall and unexpectedly battling his way through angry wasps that thickened as he reached the bedroom. Kendra was on her hands and knees, crawling toward the threshold, insects enveloping her, trying to get her feet underneath her to escape. He caught hold of her arm and hauled her out of the room, slamming the door, which confined most of the vicious creatures. The remaining few continued to sting both of them, jabbing repeatedly. He killed as many as he could while they stumbled to the kitchen. Closing the swinging door, he grabbed the nearest weapon, a pot holder. With a startled mew, Baby scuttled under the nearest chair while he swatted the wasps that hovered over Kendra, trying not to hurt her.
Tears of pain streamed down her cheeks and red welts began to appear here and there along her arms.
“I think I got them,” he said. He scanned feverishly until he realized there were more wasps tangled in her red hair.
“Quit wiggling,” he commanded.
She twitched and flailed. “You try it sometime.”
Commandeering her into a chair, he shooed the insects from the silky mass and squashed them.
Ethan and Kendra sat still, listening for more.
She breathed hard. “Somebody—” she swallowed “—somebody put the nest there, above the door.”
Somebody? He filled a plastic bag with ice from the tiny freezer and gave it to her. “Hold this to the stings on your face. It was only some of the colony in that bag, fortunately. Looks like only half a dozen stings.”
He filled another and grasped her forearm as gently as he could. He applied the cold to the worst of the welts. “Are you allergic to insect bites?”
“Guess we’re about to find out,” she said, a wry twist on her lips.
He grinned back. The lady had gumption. He’d known grown men so scared of wasps they ran at the first sight of one. “So who’s the ‘someone’?”
She looked at the floor. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, so don’t play clueless. This isn’t the Red Rose Killer. This is personal, very personal, intended to shake you up, but probably not to kill you outright. So who’s the someone who wants to torture you?”
Her swollen eyes weighed and measured him, like he had weighed and measured so many of the people he’d interrogated as a military cop. To trust, or not? It wouldn’t surprise him if she decided not to, in light of their contentious relations to date. Her gaze shifted to Baby, who was lying flat on the linoleum, tracking a stray wasp that traversed the kitchen. He could read the emotions flickering across her face. He’d saved her cat, a creature who obviously meant everything to her. Decision made.
Kendra let out a breath that came out as a sigh. “My former boyfriend,” she said. “Andy Bleakman.”
He waited, silent, sensing there was more coming.
“He did prison time because of me.”
“Why?”
Her cheeks blushed crimson to match her red welts. “I don’t want to go into it now.”
“No better time.”
She yanked her arm from his grasp. “I’ve just been a wasp pin cushion and the bedroom is still full of angry insects, so I contend there is a better time. As a matter of fact, any time would be better than this time.”
He liked the fire in her voice, the way she lifted that delicate chin and stared him down. It made his pulse kick up one notch.
Back off, Ethan. No more hotheaded women for you, especially one who is the spitting image of Jillian. He cleared his throat. “Just give me the critical points then. What was Andy in prison for?”
A beat of hesitation told him her trust only went so far. “Armed robbery.”
“And he blames you.”
“Yes. Jillian helped me get away from him, so now revenge on me is his mission in life.”
Jillian helped? He considered that. Throughout their marriage Jillian had been busily helping herself, chasing after every adrenaline-fueled thrill she could get her hands on, but she also had a desperate need to be the hero. He could imagine her riding to the rescue of her helpless friend...and then discarding her like a used dishrag when she’d finished. Mouth open, he was just about to tell Kendra so, when it dawned on him that she looked plumb worn-out.
He went to the truck and let Titus into the backyard, filling a bowl of water for him and another with kibble. Returning to the kitchen, he palmed his phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“Pest control to come and retrieve your wasp nest.” Ear to the phone, he strode to the refrigerator and opened it.
“Looking for something?” she said, brows quirked.
He poked around inside. “It’ll do.”
“Do for what?”
“Dinner. I’m hungry.”
She gaped. “Are you expecting me to cook you dinner?”
“No, ma’am,” he said. “I’m gonna do the cooking while you go wash your face and make sure you got all the wasps out of your clothes.” He pointed to a door. “Laundry room?”
“Yes.”
“There are no wasps in there and you probably have extra clothes there already.”
She pursed her lips. “So...you can cook, Lieutenant?”
“Call me Ethan, and I happen to be an excellent cook thanks to my mama, who won so many blue ribbons at the fair I lost count.” He gestured to the laundry room. “Get a move on.”
“Are military cops alway
s so bossy?”
“Only the good ones. Go. Pest control is on the way.” He pulled the eggs from the fridge and began to prowl for a frying pan. Before she left, he’d located a spatula and brandished it like bayonet. “I’m armed and dangerous.”
She smiled, as he’d hoped she would. “Okay. Be right back.”
“Kendra?”
“Yes?”
“You said you’re Andy’s mission in life. What exactly does that mean?”
She rubbed at a welt on her cheek, eyes gone dark. “He’s going to make sure that I suffer before he kills me.” Shoulders bowed, she left.
So the man with a mission to hurt Kendra knew where she lived, and how to get into her house. Was he also the one who’d taken shots at her vehicle? Or could it be that Boyd Sullivan was changing things up, trying out new ways to torture his victims before he killed them?
The case was turning into a many-headed monster.
Monsters didn’t scare Ethan one bit. There was no enemy that he and Titus couldn’t put down.
Whistling, he set to work on the eggs.
* * *
She wouldn’t admit it, but Kendra was thrilled to strip off her clothes and change into clean jeans and a T-shirt. The welts on her arms were red and angry, but they did not seem to be affecting her breathing. Her face was probably a mess, so she was grateful there wasn’t a mirror in the laundry room. Part of her tensed at the thought of Ethan Webb clanging pots and pans in her kitchen. The last thing she wanted was a partner—a handsome, pushy, military partner with whom she’d already shared way more than she wanted to. The other part of her recalled the image of him dragging her away from the wasps with no concern for himself.
The minute she returned to the kitchen, Ethan gestured her into a chair and slid a plate with a perfectly golden wedge in front of her.
“Wow. That looks great.”
“It is. Frittata without mushrooms ’cuz you didn’t have any.” His brash tone made her smile. “You should keep mushrooms on hand. Very versatile.”
“I’ll make a note of it. I only just arrived here last night, so I didn’t have time for much shopping.”
