Guns and the Girl Next Door

by HelenKay Dimon

  But he had a deeper problem. Doing a favor for Steve Samson was one thing. Getting roped into tracking down the top-secret whereabouts of individuals covered by witness relocation was a different type of disaster, one Bram could only indirectly trace back to Steve.

  But all led back to the Recovery Project.

  If he got caught poking around in WitSec files it wouldn’t matter that he was forced to do it or that Trevor’s inappropriate request for help in his custody fight led to the mess. Bram knew he would be the one to hang. He’d lose everything. That’s why it was so important to keep his blackmailer and make sure Mia and the Recovery Project team stayed out of his life.

  “Well?” Bram asked his brother.

  Trevor continued to hum as he leaned back in the plush light blue armchair and read the report from the file in front of him. For a man whose personal life had fallen apart a year before, he was remarkably unruffled.

  But Bram wasn’t accustomed to waiting for answers. When he asked questions, people responded. He had the power to fire eager young Capitol Hill staffers and subpoena even the most powerful to appear in front of his intelligence subcommittee.

  Trevor closed the folder. “Mia is alive.”

  The last flicker of hope died in Bram. “You’re sure?”

  “All the bodies are accounted for and all were my men. The owner of the house got away with Mia.”

  “Who is the owner?”

  Trevor tapped his fingers against the manila file. “Now that’s the interesting part. It’s Holden Price.”

  “So, it all comes back to the Recovery Project.” Bram slammed a fist against his desk. “I knew it. Any progress on that end? I need to find them all and contain them.”

  “The codes to the Hathaway house worked on the trial run. My men were able to get in and close, but I lost two. Important thing is Hathaway and his team now know they’re being watched.”

  The dead bodies all seemed to belong to Trevor. Bram worried the results were a testament to the Recovery agents’ abilities. “How are you going to explain the deaths?”

  “Training accident.”

  “You think Hathaway is going to go along with that story after you breached his security?”

  Trevor wore an expression that hovered between pity and contempt. “You still don’t understand these men.”

  “My job is to break them, not admire them.”

  “The reason you hate them is the same reason they’re so successful,” Trevor said with more than a touch of admiration in his voice. “They work outside of the rules. That’s why you’re pushing for the group’s dissolution, correct? Steve needs them out of the way to have a chance at trial and our contact just needs them gone.”

  Bram refused to play this game where Trevor pretended he had nothing to do with the trouble they now wallowed in. Trevor was under the same pressure. Acting otherwise ticked Bram off.

  “You know why I’m holding the hearings. I don’t have a choice,” he said.

  “You’re the one who did the favor for Steve Samson and started us down this road.”

  Bram didn’t need to be reminded what his friendship with the Samson brothers had cost him. “I am aware of my role. Do you remember yours?”

  “We did get lucky on one point. Luke Hathaway is a smart man. He doesn’t want police swarming all over him and that cozy setup of his. He disposed of the bodies from his lawn.” Trevor smiled. “If he could trace them back to me, he’d probably dump them at my doorstep.”

  Bram felt his temper blow. “Could you manage to be less enamored with the Recovery agents since they are making my life hell at the moment?”

  “Holden Price blew up his house, shot my men and escaped with the girl. It’s hard not to have some admiration.”

  Bram knew he wouldn’t get anywhere with that conversation. “Any casualties for the Recovery team from the raid?”

  “No.”

  He slammed his hand against his desk. “How is that possible?”

  “As I said, don’t underestimate them.”

  Holden and Luke and the others might outshoot and outrun their opponents, but outside of their comfort zone it might be a different story. “Then it’s time to apply more pressure.”

  Trevor nodded. “Agreed. We need to keep the team busy, drive them further apart.”

  “I’m issuing subpoenas for all of them to appear before my committee.”

  “Smart. You bring the team in and I’ll smoke out Ms. Landers.”

  Finally Trevor regained his priorities. Bram was grateful for the change. “How?”

  “Your loyal office worker is missing. Seems to me you might want to make a public plea for her safe return.”

  He could play the role of worried employer and send a message at the same time. “I like it.”

  “And her ex-boyfriend can help.”

  “Who is that?” Bram wasn’t convinced they needed another player in this game.

  “A former policeman. He’s unemployed, but I’m thinking I can find him some work.”

  Bram thought about Mia but then pushed all concern aside. “Do I want to know?”

  “As usual, no.”

  Bram pressed the intercom button. His door opened a second later. His upstanding and loyal chief of staff walked in. With his navy suit and perfect grooming, in a very short time David had worked his way up from intern to running an office.

  “Can I get you something, sir?” David asked.

  “I’m feeling much better. Next time I’ll watch where I run and won’t fall.” Bram flashed his brother a warning glance. “Has Ms. Landers showed up for work yet?”

  “No. I haven’t been able to reach her at home or on her cell. She doesn’t have any family and the emergency contacts she listed haven’t heard from her in quite some time.”

  “I’m worried about her.” Bram was impressed—he sounded so genuine in his concern.

  “Agreed. She’s very responsible. Missing work without any explanation is well out of the norm.”

  “Right. Keep me posted.” Bram nodded to let David know he should leave.

  Trevor waited until the door closed to laugh. “You said you were running?”

  “Injuries from a car accident would have been too hard to explain. Too many questions and potential problems about the lack of a police report.”

  “True.”

  “In a few hours I’ll make a public plea for Mia to return my call.”

  “That should put some pressure on.”

  HOLDEN LOWERED the volume on the television and sat down hard on the couch next to Mia.

  Mia shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

  Adam leaned forward on the edge of his chair and tapped his fingers together. “Walters is clearly alive. He’s right there on television and talking about how worried he is about you.”

  She was not insane. She knew what happened out in those woods and could call up the visual details without even trying. “I hit him with my car.”

  Claire snorted as she dropped onto the armrest of the couch next to her husband. “Of course you did. Does anyone believe that guy jogs? He’s about thirty pounds overweight and soft as a donut.”

  “He’s pretending I’m missing.” Mia was stunned at the idea. Why, she didn’t know. The Congressman had done so many unbelievable things lately.

  “He’s sending you a secret message. Telling you he’s not done,” Caleb said from his position leaning against the fireplace mantel.

  Holden shook his head. “The message is for us, not her.”

  Mia still didn’t understand how all the pieces fit together. Sure, her boss wanted to ruin the men in this room. She got that. And, yes, Holden’s computer tricks made her look guilty. But why all the trouble? The Congressman had power and money. He didn’t need to pick fights.

  She stared at Holden. “How does he even know I’m with you? You hacked the computer, but with all your covert mumbo jumbo how does the trail lead back to you?”

  Holden shrugged. �
��He has resources. His brother’s company can track anything down. For whatever reason, Trevor is using his men as a private army and backing Bram’s actions.”

  “Risky maneuver since most people view Trevor as a legitimate operator. He has the government contracts to prove it,” Caleb said.

  “We sure the Congressman didn’t deliver those contracts?” Adam asked. “Maybe this is a little brotherly payback.”

  “Probably, but the point is Trevor has resources.” Holden exhaled. “By now they know the cabin was mine and added together his congressional investigation and my role in Recovery and decided Mia was working undercover for me.”

  “But why come after us?” Caleb left the fireplace and took a seat next to Luke. “We’re not a threat to Trevor’s company.”

  “We’re a threat to someone,” Luke said.

  Adam kept tapping those fingers. “Rod sure was.”

  “Is.” Holden’s voice shook with fury. With a red face and locked jaw, he looked ready to kill.

  Mia took it all in and still didn’t get it. Didn’t like the look on Holden’s face either. If he spoke to her in that tone, she’d be paralyzed. She’d lived with a man who thought that was an appropriate way to speak with a loved one. He never used his fists, but his sharp words inflicted incredible damage.

  Adam didn’t seem to notice the tension in the room. “You should have seen Rod’s place in western Maryland. Someone ripped it apart. Smashed floorboards, holes in the ceiling.”

  “It’s true.” Those were the only words Zach had uttered since he entered the house an hour ago.

  He and Adam returned from Rod’s farm with drawn faces. The demolition they described left Mia believing Rod met with a terrible end.

  “Anything Rod hid is gone now.”

  All of the men frowned at Adam’s comment.

  After a beat of silence, Luke spoke up again. “At least we know how the intruders got in here.”

  Mia wasn’t sure how they jumped to that conclusion. “We do?”

  “Rod has our personal information,” Adam explained. “He kept it in lockdown, but he definitely had it out on his farm.”

  The importance of the violation settled deep in her stomach. It meant the end of safety and privacy. Tall fences and underground rooms weren’t going to fix this.

  “Now the Congressman has it,” she said.

  “We’ll change the codes and switch frequencies.” Luke patted his wife’s knee, then stood up. “In the meantime, everyone needs to check their own place and clear out any identifying information. We’ll meet back here and go through the documents Rod saved to our internal system. There might be a clue of some sort in there as to what he was doing or where he might be.”

  Claire smiled at Mia. “You can stay here.”

  “She comes with me.” Holden made the comment before Claire finished hers.

  Luke frowned at the suggestion. “People will be looking for her.”

  Holden jumped on that, too. “I want her where I can see her.”

  Found it. She’d been wondering about the downside of having all these strong and protective men milling around. Now she knew. A man like Holden demanded to be in charge. He pushed and shoved and generally got his way.

  The controlling behavior brought unpleasant memories rolling back over her in waves. She’d been down this road and had lost all sense of her own mind. She began doubting her instincts and conceding decisions to a boyfriend who insisted he be in charge.

  She lost her friends and her sense of self. Even now she struggled with having her voice heard. Although she trusted Holden with her safety—all of them, really—he needed to know she had a mind and planned on using it.

  “Anyone care about what Mia wants?” Mia asked, letting the sarcasm drip off her voice.

  Claire raised her hand. “I do.”

  “I decide.” When Holden opened his mouth to argue with her, Mia raced through the rest of her thought. “It is my life and my body. The choice is mine.”

  The anger simmering under the surface at the talk of Rod being dead exploded. Holden sputtered as if searching for words while his friends stared in stunned confusion.

  She finally put him out of his misery. “And I’ve made a decision.”

  “Which is?” Luke asked.

  “I’ve decided I’ll stick with Holden.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The stale scent hit Holden as soon as he opened the door. He hadn’t been in his place in the city for weeks. The lack of fresh air left the place looking and smelling even less inviting than usual.

  He walked over to the sliding glass door in the small family room and pushed the curtains open. The move let the light in and allowed him to make sure no one stood out there.

  “Not as nice as Luke’s place, but it serves its purpose,” Holden said.

  Mia ran her hand across the top of the cushions of his apartment-size sectional sofa. Other than the television, there was nothing else in the room. The furniture came with the one-bedroom place and Holden never bothered to change it.

  “Quite the bachelor pad.” Her tone let him know what she thought of his taste.

  “If you say so.”

  She sat on the armrest and watched him move around the space. “Is anyone looking for you?”

  The hesitation in her voice caught his attention. She wasn’t one to weigh words. Or she hadn’t been so far.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your house blew up. I’d think family—someone—would want to make sure you’re okay.”

  They’d finally reached the snooping, personal part of the program. He wondered when her curiosity would kick in. He didn’t have to fight the same internal battle. Luke had told Holden everything he needed to know about Mia. Having the inside information felt a bit like cheating, but Holden justified his actions by convincing himself the background search protected his team.

  The paperwork on her confirmed her as an innocent pawn. She was smart with a doctorate degree in psychology, a fact that scared the hell out of him. Last thing he needed was a woman dissecting his feelings in the bedroom.

  And they were going to end up in bed. It was just a matter of finding the right time and a half hour of privacy. Hard to concentrate on enjoying the moment when men hunted them down and people roamed everywhere in Luke’s house and could open a bedroom door by accident.

  She was the only and late-in-life child of parents who died one after the other a few years ago. An adult orphan who lived first with a cop and now lived alone. That last part was the only fact that mattered to Holden. No ties to another man.

  Because she wore a serious frown, he decided to tweak her. “Are you asking me if I have a girlfriend?”

  “Where did you hear that question?” She twisted her fingers together on her lap. Much harder and she might snap one off.

  “I was interpreting.”

  “More like wishful thinking.” She snorted not once but twice.

  When she let loose with that annoying sound he seriously considered making her ask him directly for the information. “If you say so.”

  “Are you familiar with the psychological term narcissism?”

  Oh, no. Of all the things he wanted from her, psycho-babble was not one of them. He’d been diagnosed after the incident in Afghanistan. Five-hundred-pound bombs and six hours of fighting trapped him near Khost in the Uruzgan province. Seven days in a collapsed mountain cave with two dead soldiers from Charlie Company lying at his feet.

  He’d been down that road with mental-health professionals who vowed to “cure” him. He had no intention of driving there again. “No girlfriend.”

  Her mouth opened and then clamped shut. It wasn’t until he sent her a look that dared her to comment that she tried. “I didn’t ask.”

  “I wanted you to know.”

  “Oh.”

  “I have a father in Arizona but no girlfriend.”

  She shrugged. “Why would that matter to me?”

  For a woman with forma
l training, she sure could be clueless about men and their desires. Either that or this amounted to a big game of hard to get.

  He lowered his eyebrows and stared her down. “Come on. Really? I find it hard to believe you don’t know the answer to that one.”

  She nearly jumped off the couch. One second she sat there fidgeting yet trying to act cool. The next she paced in front of his balcony door. “You could open this and let some fresh air in.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “This is a city.”

  “Not to bring up a touchy subject, but I got chased and nearly killed in the country where you live.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” He tried the most logical arguments at his disposal. “But it’s also cold out and there are trained killers lurking around.”

  “I guess that’s true.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. The body language flashed a female “keep out” sign. But those smoky eyes suggested something else.

  “Happy to impress you.”

  She smirked. “I never said I was impressed.”

  Just when he decided to put an end to the sexual torture and take her to bed, a knock at the door crushed the moment. The amusement growing inside him faded away, replaced by a readiness that stayed with him as an ingrained instinct even after military retirement.

  He had the gun out and aimed at the front of his condo before the second tap sounded. With a nod of his head he motioned for her to hide in the bedroom. He mouthed the word closet and started for the entry.

  Keeping his body out of a firing line through the dead center of the door, he leaned over and looked out the peephole. Blue uniform. Gun holstered at the side. A policeman. That made as little sense as everything else that had happened over the past few days.

  “Mr. Price? This is Detective Ned Zimmer of the Metropolitan Police Department.”

  The visit just got more interesting. Holden recognized the name. Hard not to since he just saw it in the report Luke handed him about Mia.

  Holden shoved his gun in his back waistband. He wanted the weapon close until he knew what was happening. There was no need to antagonize by aiming at the officer, even though a screaming rush of jealousy begged him to do it.