Deadly Contact

by Lara Lacombe

  “We play poker together twice a month. He lost last time. A lot.” Thomas lifted one shoulder. “I told him I’d forgo his debt if he’d spend some time at the Herndon house tonight, make sure everything was in order.”

  James smiled, his appreciation for Thomas growing by the minute. “Remind me never to play poker with you.”

  The other man just laughed. “Hey, it’s a living.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes. Thomas typed away while James enjoyed the feeling of sitting in a comfortable chair in familiar surroundings. For the first time in days, his brain slowed and he let himself relax, sinking deeper into the cushion as the tension drained out of his muscles.

  He heard the groaning of the pipes and the sound of running water in the background. Kelly must be getting cleaned up. He needed a shower as well, but he was feeling fine where he was for the moment. He’d get to it later.

  She’d shut down quickly, he mused, thinking back to their earlier conversation. As soon as he’d asked about her past, she’d thrown up a wall so high and thick it was a wonder she could see to walk. If that wasn’t a red flag, he didn’t know what was.

  But how to get her to talk? He swallowed another mouthful of beer as he considered his options. Given her behavior, he was pretty certain she’d been hurt in the past, and not your run-of-the-mill bad-breakup kind of hurt. He was willing to bet she’d been hit. In his experience, people didn’t shy away from physical contact unless there was some history of abuse.

  He rubbed his chest with his free hand, absently trying to massage away the ache that had formed at the thought of Kelly bruised and battered. He closed his eyes, calling up the image of her naked body and seeing their encounter with fresh eyes. He didn’t recall any scars on her smooth, pale skin, but they may have simply healed. Besides, abuse wasn’t always physical....

  He let out a breath, suddenly exhausted. His side throbbed and his limbs felt heavy, weighted down with guilt and responsibility and worry. He needed to know what Kelly was hiding—had to know—but he couldn’t find out tonight.

  “You got any food in this place?”

  “Ah...” James switched gears, trying to remember the last time he’d been to the grocery store. Was it last week? No, he’d worked late all last week, which left no time for shopping. Maybe it had been the week before....

  His head was starting to ache, so he gave up trying to think. “No. There’s a Thai place around the corner, though. Want me to order in?”

  Thomas leaned back and stretched his arms over his head. “God, yes. I’m starving.”

  James dug his cell phone out of his pocket. “I suppose I can buy you dinner. Any special requests?”

  Thomas rattled off a list of food that made James’s eyebrows shoot up, and the total the restaurant relayed back had him rethinking his offer. He hung up, then eyed the other man up and down.

  “How are you not five hundred pounds?”

  Thomas shot him a grin and shrugged. “My excellent metabolism?”

  James snorted. “Whatever.”

  “Don’t hate me ’cause I’m awesome.” Thomas turned back to the computer and began typing again. “I’m almost done here. What comes next?”

  James shifted in the chair. “I’m not quite sure.” He tipped the bottle back, swallowing the now-warm dregs with a wince. “I’m still working on that part.”

  “You at least need to check in with Carmichael.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t trust him.” It wasn’t a question, but James still felt the need to respond.

  “I don’t think he’s dirty. I just think he’s incompetent.”

  Thomas huffed out a laugh. “Glad I’m not the only one,” he muttered.

  “Doesn’t matter.” James shrugged, reaching forward to set his empty bottle on the desk. “We’re stuck with him.”

  “For now.” Thomas picked at the label on his bottle, refusing to meet his eyes. His tone was quiet, almost confessional, and James wondered what, exactly, the other agent knew.

  He decided to probe a little. “You’ve heard differently?”

  “Just rumors. I overheard him on the phone the other day. He was saying something about covering his ass if this op blows up in his face.”

  Disgust was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. “Figures.”

  “What should we do?”

  It was a good question, one James wished he could answer. Unfortunately, all his energies were focused on keeping Kelly safe and solving this case. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to figure out how they should deal with Carmichael.

  “We solve this case,” he said, his voice strong despite his fatigue. “That’s all we can do.”

  Thomas nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Do you think we can?”

  James didn’t hesitate.

  “Absolutely.”

  * * *

  Kelly’s phone rang while she was putting on her shirt.

  Getting dressed was proving to be more difficult than she’d anticipated. While Thomas had been kind enough to grab some clothes for her, he hadn’t thought to bring any button-down shirts. As a result, Kelly had to contort herself in impossible ways to get her arms through the sleeves of the T-shirt without moving her shoulder too much.

  It was proving to be a slow, painful process, and the shrill ring of her phone wasn’t helping any.

  She jerked the shirt down with a vicious tug, then grabbed the phone off the bed.

  “’Lo?” she mumbled, trying unsuccessfully to straighten the shirt. It had gotten twisted in the struggle and was bunched uncomfortably on one side.

  “Kelly?”

  “What?”

  “Kelly, are you okay? You don’t sound good.”

  The voice was familiar, setting off a tingle of recognition in the recesses of her drug-addled brain. It sounded like... But surely it couldn’t be...

  “Who is this?” It came out a little sharper than she had intended, but she was tired and in pain. If this wasn’t important, she wanted to go to bed.

  There was a pause, followed by a heavy sigh. “It’s George.”

  She was silent for a beat, certain she had misheard. “George Collins?”

  “The one and only,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

  Kelly fought to shake off her annoyance as her mind kicked into gear. Where was he? Why was he calling her? Did he know that the FBI was searching for him? What should she do?

  “Sorry, George. I’ve got a cold, and I’m kind of high on decongestants right now.” She tried to sound casual, hoping he’d believe her. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m extending my vacation,” he said, sounding as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Ruth and I are back in town to regroup, and then we’re taking off again.”

  “That’s great,” she said, trying to sound happy for him. “Where are you going?”

  “Oh, here and there,” he responded airily, as if the details were of little consequence. “I’m calling because I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly, wondering what he was getting her into.

  “I’ll be seeing a collaborator on this next leg of my vacation, and I promised I’d give him a vial of modified Bacillus for use in his experiments. I don’t want to come into the lab to get it because I know I’d get bogged down in work and I don’t have time for that. Would you pick it up for me?” He paused, and when she didn’t respond right away, he rushed on. “I’d meet you somewhere to get it, of course. Wouldn’t ask you to do all the work.” He finished with a forced laugh, sounding nervous for the first time.

  He must know the lab was being watched, but was he trying to evade the FBI or Caleb’s shadowy organization? Either way, he seemed to think she wouldn’t be in danger. Or maybe he just didn’t care. “Sure, George. I could do that for you.”

  “Excellent!” he said, sounding relieved. “I’ll call you back later with the details, all right? Ruth needs me for something now. Talk to you late
r!” He hung up before she had a chance to respond, leaving Kelly shaking her head and staring at the phone in her hand.

  What had just happened? George clearly wanted a strain from the lab, but why? Was he going to develop it in some way, to buy his safety from Caleb’s group? He must know that the terrorist group and the FBI were after him, which explained why he didn’t want to come out of hiding. Where was he now? The FBI thought he was on the run, but it sounded as if he was back in town.

  She sank onto the bed, overwhelmed by the onslaught of worries George’s request had triggered. She rubbed her forehead as she tried to rein in her galloping thoughts, forcing herself to take deep breaths past the tight feeling in her throat.

  “This is a good thing,” she muttered, massaging her temples. This could be the break James needed to solve the case. Maybe they could trace the call when George contacted her again to find out where he was hiding.

  The thought that this could all be over soon loosened the band around her chest, and she sucked in air. Her life could go back to normal, and she could focus on rebuilding her relationship with James.

  She indulged in a moment of fantasy—the two of them cooking dinner together in his kitchen. Sharing a bottle of wine, cozied up on the couch with his cats and watching a movie together. He’d put his arm around her, and she’d snuggle against his side, safe and warm. They’d go to bed later and make love, slow and sweet. She’d fall asleep in his arms, her heart light and her body sated.

  Could they ever have that kind of relationship? Could James see his way to forgiving her for walking out on him? She had more questions than answers, but she knew one thing for certain: they could only move forward after putting this ugly mess behind them.

  Now that George had made contact, they were one step closer to doing just that.

  * * *

  Kelly opened the bedroom door to the tantalizing aroma of hot food. Her stomach rumbled in appreciation as she walked into the den. Two empty beer bottles sat on the computer desk against the far wall, and she heard the low rumble of male voices in the kitchen, accompanied by the clinking of plates and silverware. Clearly, dinner was about to be served.

  James entered the room, a stack of plates in his hands. He stopped when he saw her. “Oh, good. I was just about to come grab you. Hungry?”

  She nodded. “What can I do?”

  “Nothing. Just have a seat.” He nodded toward the couch, so she took a corner spot. James set the plates on the coffee table, then headed back to the kitchen. Thomas chose that moment to enter the room, carrying a large bag, which he deposited next to the plates.

  “Hope you like Thai,” he said with a friendly smile.

  “It smells wonderful,” she said truthfully. Her stomach, having been neglected all day, was roiling and gurgling in anticipation of food, and she was suddenly ravenous. She helped Thomas pull foam containers from the bag as James returned with glasses of water.

  She waited until she’d eaten a bit before breaking the news of George’s call, figuring that once she told them, she wouldn’t be able to finish her dinner because of their onslaught of questions. The men had already cleared off most of their plates with a few large bites, so now was as good a time as any.

  Kelly set her fork down and took a deep breath. James shot her a concerned look. “Don’t like the food? I could order you something else if—”

  She cut him off. “No, the food is great, thanks. I need to tell you guys something.”

  Now Thomas was looking at her, his fork poised halfway to his mouth. Having both men focused so intently on her made Kelly’s stomach flip, and she pleated her napkin while she tamped down her discomfort at being the center of attention.

  “Kelly?” James’s voice was soft, gentle even, and she realized they were both waiting for her to say something. She felt her face heat, but when she looked up, she could see James wasn’t upset or impatient. His expression was calm and open, interested but not annoyed. This wasn’t the first time he’d made her feel secure, and she relaxed, knowing that she didn’t have to deal with George alone. James was here, and together they’d figure out what to do.

  “George called me,” she said, keeping her gaze on James’s face. His eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t say anything.

  The clang of silverware on ceramic interrupted the silence, and she looked over to see that Thomas had dropped his fork. “George Collins?” he asked, his voice heavy with disbelief. “As in, the George Collins who is a person of interest in this investigation?”

  “Yes. He called about twenty minutes ago. He wants me to retrieve a sample from the lab and bring it to him.”

  “Did he say where?” She swung her gaze back to James, who had placed his plate on the coffee table and was now leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

  “Not yet. He’s going to call me back soon with the location.”

  James shot a meaningful glance at Thomas, and she saw the other man nod in return.

  “What? What does that look mean?”

  Both men were silent for a moment, then James spoke. “It means this is a setup. He’s putting things in motion and will call you back when he’s sure he’s covered his bases. You’ll show up to give him the sample, and you’ll either be killed or taken.”

  Fear trailed a cold finger down her spine as James’s words sank in, and Kelly tasted bile at the back of her throat. Swallowing hard, she asked, “Can’t you stop him?”

  “Yes.” She glanced at Thomas, who had resumed eating. “Once we find out where he wants to meet, we’ll scope the place out and put a team into play. Simple as that.” He shrugged, then stuffed a forkful of noodles into his mouth.

  She turned back to James, needing his reassurance. “Thomas is right,” he said, shifting to dig his phone out of his pocket. “We’ll get there before he does and scoop him up. But first—” he flipped open the phone and began punching numbers “—we need to set up a trace on your line. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find George’s location so we don’t even have to worry about setting up a meeting.”

  Kelly remained quiet while James made his phone call. She used her fork to trace designs in the remnants of sauce on her plate. She was still hungry, but her throat felt so tight that she didn’t want to risk choking on a bite of food. Thomas sat beside her, chewing happily, completely oblivious to her anxiety.

  James hung up and placed the phone on the coffee table, then picked up his plate and twirled another forkful of noodles. She watched in amazement as he popped the bite into his mouth and went back for more, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. I could get killed, and they’re acting like it’s no big deal!

  “How can you eat at a time like this?” Kelly pushed her plate away so she could stand, then began pacing the room. “I’m about to crawl out of my skin with worry, and you guys are just sitting there like nothing is going on!”

  Both men stared at her again. Only this time, they wore identical looks of bewilderment. “I’m hungry,” Thomas pointed out, as if that simple statement should explain everything.

  “I’m hungry, too,” she shot back, hugging herself as she moved around the room. “But I can’t eat or I’ll puke.”

  James set his plate aside and walked over to stand in front of her. He placed his hands above her elbows to keep her still. “You need to calm down. It’s not worth getting so worked up when we don’t know what’s going to happen next. Collins will call you and we’ll make our plans, but in the meantime, we’ve had a long couple of days and we need all the energy we can get. There’s no sense in letting this ruin our dinner.”

  For the first time, Kelly noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the lines of strain around his mouth. He’d been working nonstop for the past few days, and how long had he been working before he’d come to her? Weeks? Months? Who knew how long this case had consumed his every waking moment. And now, to top it all off, he was injured. She knew he hadn’t taken any pain medication at the hospital, and she doubted he’d slept at all last night. He had
to be exhausted.

  “You’re right,” she said, feeling a prickle of guilt as she realized his food was getting cold. “After all you’ve been through, you deserve a hot meal at least. I’m sorry I kept you from it.”

  He tugged gently until she was pressed against him, her nose buried in the hollow of his throat. “Don’t apologize.” His voice was low and warm in her ear, and she closed her eyes, savoring the feel of him and the faint citrus-spice smell of his cologne that a night in the hospital hadn’t erased.

  James rubbed circles on her back with his strong hands; the gesture felt comforting and familiar. She wanted nothing more than to stay like this, wrapped in his arms and pressed against his solid chest. But she knew that no matter how long she shut out the world, Caleb and Collins and the rest of this mess would still be waiting for her. Better to deal with it now.

  So she pulled away with a shaky smile. James gave her uninjured arm a squeeze before releasing her completely. She sat back down on the couch and reached for her plate, feeling as if she might be able to stomach a few more bites.

  She chewed mechanically, not really tasting the food as she replayed her conversation with George. He had seemed so normal, so completely oblivious to the magnitude of what he was asking her to do. He sounded as if he needed her to pick up a cake for a lab member’s birthday, rather than retrieve and bring him a vial of a deadly bacteria.

  Was he really that clueless? Did he really not appreciate the severity of what he’d done? Maybe he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. Maybe he figured saving Ruth had been worth it. After all, if she’d been in the same situation, Kelly couldn’t say with 100 percent certainty she wouldn’t have been tempted.

  He may have seen it as delivering a product, nothing more. If he didn’t ask what it was being used for, he could convince himself that he hadn’t done anything wrong. She wanted to believe that was the case—that George had been willfully blind to what was going on, simply because he was desperate to pay for Ruth’s treatments. The alternative was too painful to consider.

  She jumped as something touched her sleeve. “Sorry,” Thomas said with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to grab your plate.”