by Misty Evans
“Get out,” The Lion snarled. “You will never work in this town again.”
Not far from the truth if I don’t come up with those damn veils.
He spun around, headed to the living room to gather his tools and the equipment he hadn’t yet installed. Behind him, Monroe tried to smooth things over with Ahmed in a low, let’s not do anything hasty voice. He’d sweet talk his way into staying if he could, but if the key didn’t fit the safe, what was the point? Monroe didn’t need to stick around and protect Syd. She’d already played the part of being sick. She’d be out the door before Grey was. He’d make sure of it.
Stupid of him to lose control. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Seeing Ahmed touch Sydney had sent him right over the edge. He hadn’t felt that vulnerable since…
Since Molly’s killer had gotten away scot-free.
Rage and frustration did an encore in Grey’s gut. He’d have nightmares of The Lion raping and killing Sydney, sure as shit. They’d go along nicely with the nightmares he still had of his sister and her killer.
God. Damn.
Lost in his own world, he didn’t notice Sydney and Ahmed arguing at the front door until Syd raised her voice. Sure enough, she was walking out, complaining that her stomach wasn’t cooperating and she needed to go home and rest. From the look on her face, Grey doubted it was an act.
Ahmed was incensed. He grabbed her arm and tried to stop her. Grey dropped the toolbox and the pack of micro-sized cameras and crossed the space to the door in three long strides. Monroe intercepted, slamming both hands against Grey’s chest in an effort to stop him, but it did no good. Grey shoved Monroe to the side, grabbed Ahmed by his shirt collar, and rammed him back against the wall. “The lady said she doesn’t want to stay with you. Leave her the hell alone.”
Before Ahmed could speak, a voice from the stair landing interrupted. “Baba? What is going on?”
Nabil. He’d been locked away in his bedroom when Grey had gone upstairs to install sensors on the windows. His gaze darted from his father to Sydney, who stood on the threshold, and then over to the picture. Dammit! He’d shut it, but there it was, hanging open half an inch. In his hurry, it must not have latched.
Grey followed the kid’s gaze to a small keyhole, nearly imperceptible, on the side of the picture frame.
I’ll be goddamned.
A second safe.
The veils were hidden in a picture safe, not the wall safe, the irony of the picture and its hidden contents not lost on Grey.
Releasing The Lion, he stepped back and eyed Nabil. The kid knew about the safe. Was he helping his father hide the trophies? Or was he in on the kills?
Shit, shit, and more shit.
Syd slipped out, the door banging shut behind her as Ahmed finally found his balls and punched Grey in the jaw.
Ahmed was a pompous fifty-three-year-old politician who hadn’t seen a gym in years, if ever. The punch got Grey’s attention and snapped his head to the side, but little else. He rubbed his jaw and smirked. “Feel better?”
Monroe once again jumped between them, pushing Grey toward the door. “Time for you to go, Mr. Black. I’ll take care of things here.”
Grey let himself be shoved out the door. Syd’s limo was pulling away from the curb. Thank God, she was safe.
The porch light went out, leaving Grey in darkness. He fingered the key in his pocket and smiled into the dark. The Lion could kick him out, but he couldn’t stop Grey from bringing him to justice.
“Now what?” Sydney said, her voice through the phone rough with strain.
Which was why Grey wasn’t going to go up the stairs and ring her doorbell. She needed sleep. She didn’t need him and his anxiety riddled body keeping her up all night.
Slouching in the driver’s seat of the Challenger, he fingered his phone and looked at the single lighted window in her home. “There’s a second safe, the frame around the veiled woman picture in the living room. The key must go to that.”
A shadow moved across the window’s closed curtains. Sydney was pacing. “So I have to go back, try to get into that safe?”
“Not you.” Grey sunk deeper into the leather seat. He hated the tension and worry in her voice. Worry he’d put there. “Me. Tomorrow. Ahmed and Nabil are scheduled to be in a meeting on Capitol Hill from ten to noon. While they’re there, I’ll sneak in and try the key.”
“Won’t the new security system alert Ahmed that you’re in his house?”
“I created a back door into the system that only Monroe and I know how to access. I’ll be fine.”
Her shadow crossed the window again. Her voice was tight from exhaustion. Frustration. “What if the frame safe doesn’t have the trophies? What if neither safe has them?”
“I sent a couple of DNA samples from the house to the lab. If they match up with the DNA extracted from the last woman’s body, we may have enough for a search warrant even if I can’t prove the trophies are in the house.”
A long, tired pause followed. “Thank you for what you did tonight.”
“It was nothing.”
“It was everything. Stupid, by the way. But thank you. You jeopardized the case for me.”
Which was something the FBI had taught him never to do. “Don’t worry about the case. Get some sleep.”
“You’re not coming by?”
The disappointment in her voice was strangely reassuring. “We both need sleep and if I’m in the same bed with you, neither of us will get any. I’ll drive you to work in the morning, okay?”
Another pause. “Promise me you’re not going back to that asshole’s place to go another round with him.”
“I promise.” He didn’t plan to move an inch the rest of the night. He had to shield Syd from the fallout of his stupidity. “Now go to bed and get some sleep. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
They disconnected and Grey watched until the light in the window went out. He sipped his coffee and rubbed his eyes, settling into surveillance mode. The Lion wasn’t one to let this go. If he twisted Ian Goldberg’s arm hard enough, the dickweed would give up information about Syd, including her address.
For a minute, Grey almost wished Ahmed would show up. Just one false move. Grey would be all too happy to put an end to the man.
The next few hours wore on indefinitely. How long had it been since he’d slept? Grey rolled down the windows, cranked up bad music, and got out of the car and stretched every time his lids grew heavy.
At four a.m., Monroe slid into the passenger seat. “Every time I think I’ve nailed Screw-up of the Year, you go and upstage me. It’s starting to piss me off.”
“Fucking Lion.” Grey blew out a deep breath. “I’d love to knock the cockiness out of him.”
“You and me, both, my man, but that shit you pulled tonight? I don’t know, Grey. I tried to smooth things over with the asshole, but he was still hot when I left.”
Lack of sleep made Grey snarky. “You told me to get in touch with my emotions.”
“And it was quite a show. I’m proud of you, even if you do need to work on your timing.”
They shared a fist bump.
Monroe switched the radio station, eyed Grey. “How come you’re not freaking out about this?”
Fishing the key from his pocket, Grey dangled it in front of his former partner’s nose. “Tomorrow, I go back and find those damn trophies.”
“It is tomorrow.”
“Today, then. After I get Sydney safely to work at the shelter, I’m going trophy hunting.”
“I’ve never seen you like this.”
“I’m always like this on a case.”
“Not about the case. About the girl.”
“She’s not a girl. She’s a woman. One I care about.”
“Obviously. And for good reason. She’s something else.”
They sat in silence for several minutes. Monroe lowered his window, shifted so he could see the duplex’s windows. “Since I’m here, you might as well take a nap.”
Gre
y wanted to say no. Instead, he shut his eyes. He needed to be awake and ready to go when the time came. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem.”
Nap he did. Monroe shook him out of a sound sleep at seven. “Everything was quiet. What time you want me to meet you at the brownstone?”
Grey yawned and stretched as best he could in the cramped quarters. Good thing he carried a spare shirt and toothpaste in the trunk. “I’ll get Sydney settled at work and text you. Probably around nine, depending on traffic.”
Monroe eased his big body out of the car and groaned. “Damn, I had forgotten how much I hate surveillance.”
At eight, Sydney met Grey at her door with a cup of coffee. He kissed her and wondered what it would be like to start every day with her and her coffee.
Probably more than he could hope for.
“Ready?” he asked.
Her eyes looked less fatigued but there were still shadows under them. This mission was taking too much of a toll. “Can you carry this box for me?”
Today, Grey thought. If he could pull it off and come up with probable cause for a warrant, everything would be wrapped up before she got off work.
Taking a healthy drag of coffee, he handed her the cup and lifted the box. It was heavy but not overly so. “What’s in it?”
“Work. I’m not getting enough done at the shelter, so I have to bring stuff home.”
“My fault. I’ll make it up to you.”
She smiled and his heart thudded. “I’ll hold you to that.”
They kissed over the box, lingering in the doorway, just a random couple facing the day ahead. Again, more than he could hope for.
Twenty minutes later, he’d fought morning traffic to deposit her at Fresh Start. “I’ll carry that box in for you if it won’t upset your clients.”
“Clients. I like that.” Syd undid her seatbelt, thought about it. “Bring the box. It’s time the women got used to you.”
Did that mean he was going to be allowed to hang around once the mission was over? “I won’t stay long and if any of them get freaked, just say the word and I’m out of there, okay?”
Another kiss, this one across the gearshift, longer and deeper than the one in her house. “Word’s out about you, and Annie gave you a thumbs-up. I don’t think any of the women will be surprised to see you.”
She got out and he followed her, box in tow, through the back door.
The clatter of breakfast dishes and women’s voices filled the air as they made their way to Syd’s office. One or two women gave Grey curious glances when they passed, but they seemed to take him in stride when he nodded to them and offered a cheery good morning.
Syd’s desk was as piled and cluttered as the first time he’d seen it through his Burris scope. He held up the box. “Where do you want this?”
She rubbed her forehead as she looked around for an empty spot. She moved her wastebasket out of the way and tapped a foot next to her desk. “Here will do.”
In the distance, Grey heard sirens. He set down the box just as Annie burst in. “There you are.” She gave Grey an accepting nod and held out a plate of pastries. “Thought you might like some breakfast. I saved these for you from the ones Ian sent over this morning.”
“Thank you.” Syd took the plate but frowned at the mention of Ian. “Everything status quo today?”
Annie, in normal housemother mode, gave her two thumbs up. “The night was uneventful.”
“Excellent. I’ll get through the paperwork for the new admissions today.”
“We only have one bed left,” Annie said. “I hope we don’t have any more admits the rest of the week.”
“You and me both.”
The sirens drew closer. Annie skirted the desk to look out Syd’s window. She worried a ring on her right hand. “Are those police sirens?”
Syd’s forehead creased and she shot him a look. “Maybe there was an accident on our street.”
Grey followed them to the window. His stomach dropped as two squad cars and a brown Crown Vic stopped in front of the shelter. Donaldson stepped out of the Vic as uniforms stormed the building. “That lousy piece of shit,” he said under his breath.
Sydney’s head snapped around to look at him. “Get out of here, Gr…Jason. Just go.”
Smart woman. She didn’t even question if the police were there for one of the women she was hiding.
But running was the coward’s way out. He’d been a lot of things in his life, but never a coward. He could fix this. Donaldson, the asshole, would have to bail him out once he heard about the safe and the veils.
Annie drew back from Grey, her brows lowering in a fierce scowl. “Who are you? What have you done?”
He’d brought a hailstorm down on the shelter and for that he’d forever be sorry. Leaning forward, he gave Syd a quick kiss on her forehead. “Whatever happens, do not leave here without Monroe. I should be back in time to pick you up at five, okay? No worries. I’ll handle this.”
The uniforms busted into Syd’s office and Grey raised his hands above his head.
“Jason Black, you are under arrest for assaulting a Lebanese diplomat,” Officer One said while Officer Two took out his handcuffs and shoved Grey against the wall face-first.
Syd’s eyes were huge in her face. Annie’s as well. Grey forced himself to smile at them as he was cuffed and read his rights.
Donaldson waited in the hall, his lips a hard, thin line. “What were you thinking?” he murmured to Grey as the uniforms paraded him toward the front door. Every woman in the place stared at him, her eyes cold, hardened and yes, fearful.
She’s mine. That’s what I was thinking. He met Donaldson’s glare. “I was thinking it was time someone stepped up and did the right thing.”
“Well,” his former boss said. “I hope that self-righteous attitude comforts you while your ass rots in jail.”
Chapter Twenty-six
A knock on her front door pulled Syd from her study of the new birth certificates for Marissa George—now Elizabeth Stow—and her children. Another woman would be saved from battering hands.
She glanced at her phone. 10:02 p.m. Grey had called thirty minutes earlier to say he’d been bailed out and would run by after making a quick stop regarding the case.
Monroe had paced her living room floor for hours, wanting to stake out The Lion rather than play bodyguard. As soon as Grey had called to say he was en route, she’d dismissed Monroe, sending him in search of The Lion. He’d argued for a solid five minutes, telling her Grey would have his ass, but she’d insisted she’d be okay. To prove it, she showed him her .22 and demonstrated her favorite chokehold on him. After that, he’d looked at her with a touch of awe, told her Grey was in love with her, and left.
Whether he was kidding or not, she couldn’t be sure, but by taking a swing at The Lion to defend her honor, Grey—bless his heart—had almost blown the case. Not that The Lion—son of a bitch that he was—didn’t deserve a whooping, and not that Syd didn’t find the whole thing a tad inspiring, but it was a mistake that could cost Grey everything.
The man had to be torturing himself over it. Maybe she’d help him work through the torture. Naked. With cupcakes.
Never an inconvenience.
The knock sounded again. Harder this time. And with thoughts of Grey smothered in cupcake frosting distracting her, she strode to the door, grabbed the knob, and paused. Only stupid women opened their doors late at night. Stupid, she wasn’t. She checked the peephole.
On the doorstep stood Nabil.
She leaped back from the door, her breath coming fast and hard.
How the hell?
The first thing that registered was the chaos storming her mind. The second thing was how Nabil Khourey, who knew her as Cindy, knew where she lived.
The third thing? The mother of all things? Why was he here?
Zipping sensations shot down her spine. She pushed her shoulders back. She simply would not answer the door.
“Cindy?�
�� He called. “I’m sorry to come uninvited. Please, open the door. I’m here to help. My father...he’s...in a rage. You’re in danger.”
Nabil knew something.
“Cindy, I know you’re home. Please. I beg of you, open the door. We can talk outside.”
She thought about it a second. This was Nabil. Quiet, charming Nabil. She’d been alone with him several times and he’d never made an inappropriate gesture. In fact, he’d been the perfect gentleman who’d rescued her from over-attentive males.
Plus, Grey would be arriving at any time so she wouldn’t be alone with him for long.
Decision made, she opened the door a few inches.
He threw his hands over his head. “Such a relief!”
“Nabil, what is it? How did you know where I live?”
He rushed in, pushing by her into the living room and waving his hands. “Ian gave me your address. I stressed that it was an emergency. We must get out of here. My father is very angry. I’m fearful he is on his way.”
“Ian gave you my address?”
She’d murder the louse.
“Yes. I felt awful about the scene at the house last night. My father acted inappropriately. Nothing new I’m afraid, but I know he disrespected you. And then the bodyguard hit him. Now he’s been released and my father is enraged over the injustice. He holds you responsible. I’m so sorry. We must go.”
Syd closed and locked the door behind her. She wasn’t going anywhere. With Grey on the way, they’d just wait on him and be ready for The Lion when he arrived.
She waved Nabil to the sofa. This poor kid. How many times had he been forced to apologize for his father?
“Nabil, please calm down. You shouldn’t be the one apologizing.”
“I hope his actions don’t reflect on me.”
“You’ve been nothing but kind. I would never hold you responsible.”
He glanced up at her, his lips sliding into a slow smile. “I’m glad to hear that, Sydney.”
For Grey, there was a tipping point with every mission. When you reached that point, things happened fast.
Donaldson had spent the entire day fighting red tape, pulling in favors and avoiding land mines. Strike number one, Grey had sat in the downtown precinct’s holding tank far longer than he’d expected. Pacing hadn’t helped. Banging his head on a wall hadn’t helped. Planning hadn’t helped. All he could do was wait.
