Callan didn’t appear shocked, but she knew her information had set him back a little.
Koenig spoke up softly. “You gotta give him a minute, girl detective. Callan’s been buried in Third World cesspools for so long he’s forgotten things like that still go on here and people cover it up.”
Even as she listened to Koenig making excuses for his friend, Eryn knew that wasn’t the truth from the look in Callan’s eyes. When he’d left his sister, when he’d left the United States, he’d been eighteen years old, just out of high school. Maybe he’d seen the brutality of life around whatever hot spots he’d been working in, but he hadn’t seen it at home.
He gave her a short nod. “All right. Who are these guys?”
“They call themselves Invincible Security. They’re a small, tight operation. Rumor has it that whales looking to hook up with the not so legal delights of Vegas can get it from these guys.”
“Nice system.” Koenig sounded impressed. “They control the customer and the marketplace. Probably even take a cut out of the action. It’s what I would do. If I were in that line of business. Hmm. Looks like they know electronic privacy as well. It’ll take a while to check them out.”
A prickle of fear ran along the back of Eryn’s neck. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about these guys. Some people say these guys have buried bodies out in the desert. Clients as well as mistakes clients have made.”
“A unit like that could also pull off a high-end grab.” Callan’s voice was flat and unemotional.
That had already occurred to Eryn as well.
“Do you know where we can find these guys?”
“They hang out at a couple of the local bars.”
“All right. Let’s go see if we can find them.” Callan nodded toward the computer. “Your video upload is finished, right?”
Eryn glanced at the screen and saw that the progress meter had reached one hundred percent. “Yes.” She removed the thumb drive from the USB port.
“Koenig, how are you doing with the car I asked for?”
“It’s been outside waiting for you for the last ten minutes, dude.”
“How will I know who I’m dealing with?”
“It’s Ilsa.”
Callan frowned hard enough that his brow furrowed.
Koenig sighed. “Look, dude, I know the two of you have history, but I wouldn’t have called her if I didn’t want you to have the very best. You’re outgunned and underequipped over there. And you’re in unfamiliar territory.”
“She tried to kill me in Dubai.”
“It was just business, nothing personal. And you kind of stepped into that thing she had going on over there. I told you that before you got inserted.”
“What’s she doing here in the States?”
“Cooling down. She got smoking hot over in the Middle East after her dustup with you. Nobody knew who you were when it was settled, but they knew who Ilsa was. But don’t worry. She isn’t carrying any kind of a grudge.”
Eryn couldn’t believe what she was listening to. “How do you know she isn’t carrying a grudge?”
“Because I asked her.”
“You asked her?”
“Yeah. That’s what grown-ups do. She’s in the Vegas area dealing hard-to-acquire merch and did us a solid on this one. Callan, she’s got the stuff. She’ll take your handshake and you’re not out a dime. Also, I know the paperwork on the car will stand up because she does good work. Believe me, this is the best I could get for you. There were others out there, but Ilsa’s product is bulletproof. Some of it literally.”
“Okay, thanks. You’ve got the phone number?”
“Yeah. I’ll be in touch. Keep me posted.”
Chapter 11
Callan headed for the door, barely giving Eryn enough time to grab her computer bag and follow him. She shifted the backpack and made certain it wouldn’t get in the way if she had to go for her pistol.
As Callan reached the door, he swung a hand up behind his back. Eryn knew immediately that he’d taken hold of the pistol resting there. He swept the street outside with his gaze. No emotion, no hesitation, showed in him.
Eryn slipped her pistol from its holster and kept the weapon hidden in the folds of her jacket. Her heart thumped solidly and her senses seemed sharper.
“Callan.” The voice came from the street to their left.
At the sound of his name, Callan took one big step to his left. “Stay here.”
At first Eryn was annoyed by the way he told her what to do. After a second, she realized he’d done that to protect her by putting distance between them. She gripped her pistol more tightly, then relaxed her hand.
The voice came from a black Dodge Challenger with heavily tinted windows to Callan’s left. The passenger-side window rolled down, reflecting the internet café’s light for a moment before it spilled over and disappeared into the blackness of the car’s interior.
A smiling redhead sat behind the wheel. Big curls rested on her bare shoulders and tumbled down her back. She had both her hands in the open, wrists resting on the wheel. “Hello, Callan.”
“Ilsa.” Callan stayed where he was. His hand never moved from his back and he’d turned slightly sideways to her, profiling so he made a smaller target.
After seeing Callan charge a van filled with guys using automatic weapons, Eryn felt almost unnerved by his show of caution over one woman now.
“Come, come. Don’t tell me you fear me.” Her voice was a husky smoker’s contralto and it held a hint of scathing mockery. She also sounded Russian or at least Eastern European.
Callan’s answer was hard and cold. “No, I’m not afraid of you, but I don’t trust you much, either.”
She laughed and Eryn hated her a little for that because the woman could calmly sit there knowing Callan had a weapon and wouldn’t hesitate to use it. He was tense and she was relaxed. Or at least she appeared to be at ease.
“You should let bygones be bygones.”
“You tried to kill me in Dubai.”
“Silly man. If I had succeeded, I would have regretted it. I would miss you greatly. Besides, I trusted you to survive. If anyone should be upset, it should be me. You shot me. Ruined my bikini line.” Ilsa shrugged. “Thankfully, I am not a model, but a woman has to concern herself over her looks, yes?”
“Keep your hands where I can see them and get out of the car.”
Slowly, as cars passed in the street behind her, Ilsa clambered out of the car. She wore a too-short metallic-green dress that clung to her figure and knee-high boots made to be adored. Anywhere else she might have stood out as remarkable or amazing, but she fit in with Vegas. And she was still pretty amazing. Crazy beautiful with wide blue eyes and that cinnamon-colored hair. Eryn hadn’t thought that the woman would be plain and built like an NFL lineman, but this was unfair.
Ilsa dangled a set of keys from one slim forefinger. “The car is in a fake name. A driver’s license and the necessary paperwork are in the glove compartment.”
“Your work?”
Ilsa shook her head. “Koenig’s. I merely turned his work into physical documentation. If need be, the identity will stand up to close scrutiny.” She smiled. “Probably better than you will. Your face has been all over the television, Callan. Such a handsome face.”
All right, Eryn admitted to herself, that’s enough. She hated Ilsa just a little more for the casual flirtation.
“You were supposed to be delivering more than just the car.”
Ilsa gave a casual nod to the trunk. “There. Everything you should need. I added a few things to Koenig’s shopping list.”
Callan nodded. “Leave the keys on top of the car and walk away.”
Ilsa faked a look of surprise. “What? All business, Callan? After all that we have shared?”
Yes, Eryn thought. All business. Now put those knee-highs into walking mode and go away, red.
“A shame.” Ilsa looked regretful, but it was all posturing, purely sexual heat. “It wa
sn’t always just business between us.”
“I don’t have a lot of time here, Ilsa.” Callan’s voice was flat.
“So our mutual friend has told me.” Ilsa pursed her lips. “You know, I have a few other things to do before morning, but it’s nothing I couldn’t put off. In case you need another set of hands on this thing. For you, I would be willing to do this. I will not even charge you.”
“No.”
Ilsa cocked a disapproving eyebrow. “Maybe you should ask yourself if you are making a mistake. You know I can be very helpful with something like this. I saw the men on the television. They seem very professional.”
“We can handle this.”
Eryn had to stop herself from smiling at the we.
Ilsa shifted her attention full on to Eryn for the first time, but Eryn knew she’d been on the other woman’s radar from the moment she’d followed Callan out of the internet café. “This woman doesn’t seem to be cut from the same cloth as the usual company you keep. When things become hard, she will fail you.”
Eryn almost spoke up in her own defense and stopped herself just short of it. The other woman had deliberately taken a shot at her to get a rise out of Callan. If Eryn gave in to that impulse, that would happen. She kept quiet.
“Put the keys on the car and walk away, Ilsa.”
With a small shrug, Ilsa deposited the keys on top of the car. Instead of walking away, she came around the car and walked toward Callan. “I will not leave without a proper goodbye, Callan.”
Shoot her, Eryn thought. Not believing what was taking place, she watched as the redhead walked up to Callan, cupped his face in both her hands and kissed him soundly.
To his credit, Callan seemed unaffected by the smoldering kiss that seemed to last forever. He held his ground, and he even shifted to put his gun farther beyond the woman’s reach.
After what seemed an interminable time, Ilsa backed away and smiled at him again. “You be careful, Callan. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. I look forward to seeing you again. Unless, of course, we end up on opposite sides again.” She turned and walked away, and her hips rolled suggestively under the tight dress.
Angry and feeling a little humiliated, Eryn walked over to him. “Pull your eyes back in your head.”
“What?”
Eryn nodded to the woman. “Enjoying the show? Vegas is full of exotic dancers who can throw it better than that.” She knew that wasn’t true, because the redhead possessed both natural and practiced skills, but since it was Callan’s first time to the city, she guessed that he didn’t know about the strip bars.
Callan relaxed a little as she got into a car and took off. “That’s probably the most dangerous woman you’ll ever meet.”
“She wasn’t good enough to kill you in Dubai.”
“I got lucky.” Callan paused. “And I’m good at what I do. But mostly that time in Dubai it was luck.” He plucked the keys from atop the car.
Eryn reached for the passenger door and he grabbed her hand. “Wait.”
“What?” Eryn yanked her hand out of his and hated the way she’d liked the calm strength of his grip.
“You didn’t see Ilsa open that door, and you never saw her with the engine running. Give me a minute.”
Standing on the sidewalk and feeling foolish as curious passersby and cars drove by, Eryn watched Callan inspect the car. He started underneath, lying on his back and sliding partially under the vehicle. Then he reached inside and popped the hood.
“You really don’t trust her?”
“No.” Callan took a Mini Maglite from his jacket pocket, flicked it on and played it over the engine. “I thought that was clear from the way I said, I don’t trust her, and the fact that she tried to kill me.”
Needing to feel she was doing something, Eryn walked over to Callan’s side and stared at the engine. She didn’t recognize anything in the maze of parts and hoses and wiring. Evidently Callan did, though, because he pushed through the hoses and inspected wiring harnesses.
“Not even after Koenig vouched for her?”
“Koenig is a smart guy. About the things he specializes in, he’s probably the smartest guy I know. But he’s not Ilsa-smart.”
“Does he have a history with her? Something more than business?” Eryn heard the hint of jealousy in her voice and she didn’t like it. She didn’t know what it was about Callan that pushed her buttons like that, but those feelings were just as real as the ones she experienced from his nearness and his touch. If they were together much longer, being around him was going to make her crazy.
“You think you’ve got her figured out?”
“No, I’ve figured out that being around her isn’t good for me. I didn’t need to know any more. I keep my life as simple as I can. I find answers that work for me. Keeps everything less complicated.”
Eryn felt a little happy about that, but she kept it to herself.
A moment later, Callan let out a long breath and seemed satisfied. He closed the hood and walked to the rear of the car. When he opened the trunk, a light came on and revealed black hard plastic cases. A brief inspection revealed pistols, a combat shotgun and a machine pistol.
“You plan on going to war?” Eryn couldn’t believe all the firepower the trunk held, and a fresh wave of fear washed through her, displacing the anger and the insane bits of jealousy.
“Not planning to. Just prepared to.”
Spotting a bag next to the cases, Eryn stepped around Callan and tugged on the bag’s lip so the flashlight beam shined inside. The white beam slid across greasy spheres with attached rings. “Are those hand grenades?”
“Yeah.”
“You asked for hand grenades?”
Callan closed the trunk. “No, I didn’t ask for hand grenades. Those are Ilsa’s idea of party favors.”
The world spun around Eryn for just a moment and she thought she might need to sit down.
Callan studied her in quiet contemplation, his eyes almost hidden behind the aviators. When he spoke, his voice was soft and solemn and earnest. “This is your last chance to walk away, Eryn. Whatever happens, it’s going to get crazy.”
As she looked at him, she realized that he could have easily left her standing there. She wouldn’t have been able to stop him.
Evidently he guessed what she was thinking. He smiled a little. “I could leave you here, but I won’t. Not if that’s not what you want.”
“Why? Because I know about your car? The weapons? Do you think I’d just run to the police?”
“No. Even if you did, they’d have to find me. I could be lost long enough to do what I need to do.” He compressed his lips and looked at her. “I respect you enough not to leave you standing here.”
“Why?”
“Because you earned the right to make the call on your involvement.” Callan turned and walked up to the passenger-side door. He opened the door and stood waiting.
Eryn waited just for a moment and walked toward the door. “Things might be less crazy if I come with you.”
Before she reached the door, he closed it and leaned against it. He shook his head. “I can do this without you. Just give me the name of the bar and I’ll be on my way. I don’t want you coming just because you think you have to. For whatever reason. I won’t have that on my head.”
Folding her arms, Eryn stared up at him and sought to control her temper. She so did not understand him. One minute he was letting her go, the next he was closing the door. His logic, if there was any, didn’t make sense.
“You said I earned the right to choose.”
“Not for the wrong reasons.”
She met his gaze and held it. Her body was conscious of his proximity and she felt the heat off him, smelled his scent—unadorned by cologne—and wondered what if would be like if he kissed her. His lips parted just slightly, enough to lead her to believe he had at least thought about the possibility. She steeled herself against that. She was not going to let that happen. “Either I earned
the right, or I didn’t. Which is it?”
With obvious reluctance, Callan opened the door. She slid in and he closed the door behind her and walked around the car. Without a word, he dropped into the driver’s seat, keyed the ignition and pulled the transmission into gear. Darting a quick look backward, he pulled out into traffic.
Eryn fastened her seat belt. “I could drive. It would be easier. I know the city.”
“No.”
“Control issues?”
Callan ignored her. “Where do I find this club?”
Just to be irritating, Eryn rattled off the street address. To her surprise, Callan reached forward and punched the address into the GPS unit on the dash. His current position lit up and a quick street route sketched across the screen.
“You know how to operate a GPS but you know hardly anything about a cell phone.”
“GPS units are standard equipment I deal with. Cell phones aren’t.” Callan put his foot down harder on the accelerator and shot through traffic.
At first Eryn was nervous, but he had a light touch on the steering wheel and accelerated and braked smoothly. His skill irritated her on a whole new level. “They have GPS functions on cell phones, too, but you probably didn’t know that.”
“I didn’t know that. That’s something I can use.”
“You also don’t know why I’m coming with you.”
His eyes narrowed behind the aviator lenses and his voice dropped to a growl. “My first thought was that you just wanted to be a pain in the—”
“I came because I want to help,” Eryn said, interrupting him so he couldn’t finish his thought and make her mad. “Not because I thought you need me.”
For a moment Callan didn’t say anything. Then he smiled a little and nodded.
“Because, honestly, I don’t think I could help you if I wanted to. You’re way beyond anything I can do.”
Callan’s grin grew a little larger as he drove them toward their destination.
When the GPS told him he’d reached his destination, Callan pulled the Challenger into a valet parking lot across the street. He slid his pistol under the seat and glanced at Eryn. “They’ll have security at the door to keep weapons out, right?”
Best Man for the Job Page 12
