by Liliana Hart
“Damn,” Shane said, massaging the headache that still pounded behind his eyes. “This is going to be hard on Rachel. She’s going to blame herself.” He got up and rummaged through one of the drawers until he found the bottle of aspirin. So far it hadn’t done anything to relieve the pressure, but he was willing to give it another try.
“Well, it gets worse. The day before yesterday an Agent Jackson Cole washed up about a hundred feet from where the first body was found. Same cause of death as the first victim. He was the new agent in charge of the Valentine case. Word through the office was that Cole had an informer on the inside of Angelo’s organization. Apparently Angelo’s men aren’t too happy with the way things are being run, and there’ve been a few internal struggles. Director Shaw is mainlining Rolaids and hasn’t slept in weeks. His agents keep dying and the higher ups want to know why.”
Shane grunted. “Not a good position to be in, for sure. But he’s the man in charge, and the leak is in his office, so it’s his responsibility. Do you have an idea on the informer in Angelo’s organization?”
“Yeah, his name is Sal Lorenzo. He’s in the morgue along with Agent Cole, though it took us longer to find all of Lorenzo’s body parts. Angelo was sending a message to his other men.”
“You said there was another victim who washed up. Who was it?” Shane asked, the feeling in his gut already dreading what Jones was going to tell him.
“Randall Clark III, or Randy as he was known to his friends,” Jones said. “He lived across the hall from Rachel for the last several years. According to my sources, they’d dated for a short time and had been briefly engaged their senior year of college before deciding they made better friends than lovers.”
Shane’s head was reeling. Rachel had been engaged? And now a man she’d been close to and had maybe even loved was dead. How the hell was he going to break the news to her?
“Are you going to tell Rachel?” Jones asked. “Or I could do it if you think she’d take it better from me.”
“No, I’ll tell her.”
“Will she be all right? You’ve gotten to know her better than anyone over the last few days. Our file on her tells us pitifully little.”
“From what I’ve gathered her father tried to keep her out of his business as much as possible. She’s led a pretty quiet life up until now, but she’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. She’ll be okay. But once the news has sunken in about her friends she’s going to be out for Angelo’s blood. She’s not one to sit back and let others take care of problems for her.”
“Don’t let her do anything stupid,” Jones said. “The FBI still wants that list, and it is widely known now that she has the last remaining copy. I wouldn’t be surprised if Angelo wasn’t the only mobster looking for Rachel.”
“Great. I don’t suppose you have any ideas how to get her to the bank in Chicago and back out alive? I’ve gone through several scenarios, but the outcome never seems very favorable.”
“I’ve had a few thoughts on the subject but nothing is set in concrete. Carrie and I need to head back this afternoon. She’s got meetings later today. If you’ll agree, let me talk to a couple of people and see if we can get some extra help. It never hurts to have backup. I’ll also see if we can find the bank president and keep him in a safe place for a couple of days until we figure out when we want to go in.”
“Do whatever you need to do. Just make sure the people you tell won’t give Rachel’s head to Angelo on a silver platter. Do you have an estimate of when you’ll be back?”
“No, but you’ll be safe here for the time being. We’ve taken this house off the books, and Carrie and I are the only ones who know you’re here. You have plenty of food and extra clothes. Just stay put until I come back for you.” Jones stood and Shane did the same. “Will you take some advice?” he asked.
Shane smiled and thought back to the days when Jones was his commanding officer. “Since when do you ask if you can give advice?”
“Good point, so listen up. Don’t wait too long to tell that woman you love her. From the way things are going I think it’s something she might need to hear. And it’s something you, my friend, need to say. Maybe it’ll be just the thing to make the nightmares go away.”
“How the hell do you know about the nightmares?” Shane asked incredulously.
“I work for the FBI. I know everything.”
***
Rachel thought about using the secret exit in the closet and disappearing again. The idea wasn’t completely without merit. She could vanish for good this time. Change her hair and get some contacts. She knew who to contact for a passport and new identity, and she had plenty of cash stashed away in a safe place. Maybe she should just leave the country. And keep in touch with no one. Start over completely with a brand new life.
The knock on the door interrupted her plans of escape and she cursed her indecision. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to anyone.
“Rachel,” Carrie said as she came into the room. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I think this is something best left alone.” Rachel lay down on the bed and stretched out her tired muscles. She could fall asleep so easily. All she had to do was close her eyes and drift away, but Carrie had other plans for her. Rachel wasn’t in the mood to hear the reasons Shane had chosen the career path he had. And having a woman she barely knew try to explain it made her all the more irritable.
“No one can understand how it feels to be a sniper unless you are one,” Carrie said.
“That’s just the truth. I don’t know what it’s like and Jones doesn’t know, even as close as he and Shane are. And you don’t know.”
“No offense, Carrie, but I’m really not in the mood to hear this right now,” Rachel said. She didn’t like the combination of pity and understanding she saw in the other woman’s eyes. Couldn’t she just have some time alone to think without someone coming along and judging her?
“No offense taken,” Carrie said. “But I’m going to say what I came to say anyway, and it’s up to you whether or not you listen. What Shane did while he was in the military and the FBI was so important. It’s a job that’s easily overlooked and always underappreciated. The job itself takes a powerful toll on the body and mind, and the stress that comes from it isn’t comprehensible to people like you and me. Not everyone can cut it, and the good ones only last so long before they start to burn out. And believe me, I’ve read Shane’s file. He was very, very good.”
“Believe it or not, I understand that it was his job and he had no control over his assignments. But I can’t reconcile what he was to how I was raised. I love my father very much, and now that my whole family is gone it makes hearing something like that even harder.”
“But Shane’s not to blame,” Carrie said.
“I don’t know who’s to blame,” Rachel said. “Only that someone should be. Shane is just wired differently. I don’t understand him. He has great compassion and a need to protect the innocent or those who are weaker, but he doesn’t bat an eye at taking lives when given an order. At least with the way things worked in my family, I always knew where everyone stood. Things are more cut and dried than you might imagine in the mob. We celebrated birthdays and weddings and funerals, and when someone was killed their families were taken care of. Does Shane even care that his victims had wives and children?”
“Jones and Shane have been friends a long time,” Carrie said. “And from some of the stories I’ve heard, I can tell you that I think Shane cares too much. He was loyal to his country and to the other men he worked with. Then his wife died and he was left questioning everything he’d stood for his whole life. Everything he’d always believed in. You can’t blame a man for his past. We all have things we’ve done that are better left forgotten. It’s the future that counts.”
“Yeah, well I don’t think we have much of a future,” Rachel said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Carrie sai
d with genuine surprise. “That man is completely in love with you. I mean over the moon in love. Open your eyes.”
“I think you’re wrong. And I understand why he never can be. I’ve already come to terms with it. He’s still hung up on his wife. Still blames himself for her death. How can I compete with a ghost?”
“Just take it from someone who knows how amazing it is to really be in love. Don’t give up on the man too soon. Trust me.”
Rachel smiled for the first time since they’d been talking. “You and Jones look great together, by the way. Shane’s lucky to have friends like you guys. He needs friends like you. I have the feeling he’s cut himself off from life for too long.”
Rachel got up from the bed and gave Carrie a light hug. “I appreciate you following me in here. I guess I did need to talk about it.”
“Yeah, well, I was determined not to give you much of a choice,” Carrie said with a smile.
“I guess we should go join the guys and see what we missed.”
“We’re going to have to leave for awhile,” Carrie said. “I’ve got a meeting with my unit later this afternoon that I can’t miss, but we’ll be back. I’m sure Jones and Shane have thought of something during their male bonding time out there.”
There was a knock at the door and Jones stuck his head in. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Carrie said and reached for the hand he held out. The naked devotion in each of their faces was enough to make Rachel’s eyes sting.
She and Shane walked them to the door and were left alone together once again. The silence between them lay heavy, and Rachel wasn’t sure what she should do next. She twisted her fingers together and finally brought her gaze to Shane’s. He stared at her with a mixture of emotions she couldn’t interpret. Emotions she didn’t want to interpret.
“We need to talk, Rachel,” he said.
She nodded her head silently and dreaded whatever was to come.
Chapter Twelve
“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked.
“Maybe we should sit down first,” Shane said, reaching for her hand so he could lead her to the small couch in the living room.
“I’m not a child,” she said, jerking away. “Whatever it is, I can take it.”
Shane didn’t know where to begin. It seemed like ever since he’d first crossed Rachel’s path he’d brought her nothing but heartache and worry.
“Is it my father? Did they find his body?” she finally asked.
Despite her protests he was able to pull her down on the sofa next to him, and she squeezed his hand tightly between hers. The news wouldn’t be any easier the longer he waited. It would be best to tell her straight out. “No, it’s not your father’s body that was found. I’m sorry, Rachel, but it was Cleopatra Carlisle and Randall Clark’s bodies that were discovered. It’s already been ruled a mob hit by the FBI because of certain calling cards that were left behind at the scene.”
Rachel’s face paled at the news and her hand went limp in his.
“Cleo’s husband? Has he been told?” she asked.
Shane was watching Rachel closely for any signs that she might be close to an emotional breakdown, but other than being cool to the touch, her feelings were buried somewhere deep inside of her. Somewhere he couldn’t reach. She was calm, cool and collected. Almost too calm. Something definitely wasn’t right with the picture.
“Her husband was away on business at the time of her murder, but he’s been notified and is now back in Chicago to see to the arrangements,” he said.
“They were married just last year,” Rachel said. “The last time I talked to her she was excited because they’d decided to try and start a family right away. They were very much in love. A perfect match.”
“I’m so sorry, Rachel. I wish…”
“And what about Randy?” she interrupted. “He doesn’t have any family left living. His parents died when he was twelve, and he was raised by a grandmother. Do you think the FBI would let me make the arrangements for his mass once we get out of hiding? He was Catholic, and he’d want things to be done properly.”
“I’m sure something can be arranged,” Shane said.
“Good. Well, thank you for telling me. I know it can’t have been easy for you,” she said and got up from the couch. “I think I’m going to lie down for a little while.”
If it hadn’t been for the fine tremors in her hands as she rose, Shane would have let her go. But her grief was suddenly so transparent to him he didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before. She was holding on by a very thin thread, and she was going to wait until she was alone to break.
“Rachel,” he whispered.
“No, Shane, just let me go. I need to be alone.” And then her voice broke on a sob and she collapsed into his open arms.
“It’s all right, Sugar. Just let it all out.” He held her tightly and stroked her hair while her anguish washed over him in waves. He whispered words of love and compassion in her ear, but she was too far gone to understand the significance.
“It’s my fault. All my fault,” she repeated over and over again.
Her tears soaked his shirt and he knew there was nothing he could do to take away the burden of her guilt. She’d realize soon enough that her uncle would have found a way to hurt her, whether she’d kept in touch with her friends or not.
The tears slowed, though her breath stayed ragged. “They’re all gone,” she said. “I have no one left. My family and friends, all destroyed because of a choice my father made. One decision that altered the course of so many lives.”
He wanted to tell her she wasn’t alone and that she never would be, but he knew now wasn’t the time or place. “Not all choices are easy, Rachel, and there are consequences that each choice brings. You can’t fault your father for wanting to do the right thing.”
“No, I can’t fault him, but I have to place the blame somewhere. On someone. I can’t even think of what’s left for me. The hurt just runs too deep. I’m numb with it.”
Shane knew only too well how personal pain numbed the soul. There was only one remedy. Time. He held her in his arms for what might have been hours. If he could have taken the pain away he gladly would have, but life didn’t work that way.
Her breathing changed and he thought she might have fallen asleep, but her fingers skimmed across the back of his neck and tangled in his hair. A jolt of lust rocketed through his system, and he had to remind himself that it would be all too easy to take advantage of the situation.
“Shane,” Rachel whispered.
Her lips brushed against his ear, and he jerked away as if he’d been burned. “No, Rachel. You’re not thinking straight, and I don’t want to be a substitute for whatever it is you’re feeling right now. If we make love. When we make love,” he corrected, “it will be because we both want each other more than anything else. There will be no other demons or ghosts getting in the way the next time.”
“Please, Shane,” she said, kissing her way along his jaw line and the sensitive skin on his neck to his lips. “I need to feel. I need you.”
Rachel straddled his hips and his hands spanned her waist, but he wasn’t sure if he was trying to push her away or pull her closer. She had the ability, like no one else ever had, to muddle his thinking.
“You’ll hate us both in the morning, and that’s not something I can live with.”
“We’ll both live with it,” she said. “We’ll go into this with no regrets. Don’t you understand that I feel dead inside? Make me feel alive again, Shane.”
“Not this way.” He gathered his resolve and cursed himself as he pushed her away. He got up from the couch and moved around her in a wide circle, like a lion tamer who was afraid of the lion. The satisfied smile on her lips made it obvious she knew she held all the power, and her eyes were daring him, all but calling him a coward.
She pulled the oversized shirt she wore over her head and tossed it to the floor, exposing the white lace beneath. “You don’t play fai
r, Rachel,” he said as the air clogged in his lungs.
“No, I don’t. And you, Shane Quincy, have spent too much time being too fair. Too honest. Too noble. I think it’s time you took what you wanted and said to hell with everything else.”
The snap on her jeans came next, and Shane felt his eyes roll back in his head. The woman definitely knew how to make a statement. She pushed the denim over her hips to reveal a tiny scrap of white lace that should have been illegal.
“I’m trying to do the right thing here, Rachel,” he said, backing up as she walked toward him like a lioness stalking her prey. He hit a wall and was consumed by panic. She’d flicked the tiny snap at the front of her bra so her breasts sprang free and all the thoughts in his head vanished. She was beautiful. A vulnerable seductress who would shatter under careless hands. She reached for him but he took her hands in a solid grasp before she could touch him. He didn’t want to be careless. Not with her.
“You win, Rachel.” He saw the light of triumph in her eyes masking the hurt. Her breathing was rapid and he could see the pulse pounding in her throat. She was looking for something raw and untamed, and he could feel the beast inside him pressing to escape. “But if we do this,” he said. “We do it my way.”
She looked confused as he grazed a finger over the inside of her wrist. Her pulse jumped and she tried to pull out of his grasp. His touch was tender and her eyes grew wide as his fingers caressed her arms, along her shoulders and collar bone.
