by Dana Marton
“What about her?”
“She had a dream that I was shooting at a water tower while handcuffed.”
“What water tower?”
“Never mind.” But then something else occurred to him and he called out to the agents. “Would one of you go out and see if there’s a thresher in my barn?”
“A what?” one of them asked.
“Big piece of farm equipment,” Bing explained.
The agents looked at him as if he’d gone crazy, so Murph turned back to Kate. “You keep packing. I’m going to step out for a minute.”
Bing went with him. “What’s this about?”
“I can’t explain. A feeling. Let’s just see.” He hurried back, and knew he hit pay dirt when he saw that the padlock wasn’t the one he’d snapped on last year. “Mind shooting that off?”
“You get stranger and stranger. You know that?” Bing shook his head. “Forget it. I’m not even going to ask why.” He stepped back, aimed and blew the lock away.
They pushed the heavy door aside together. Then stared at the threshing machine inside.
Murph filled his lungs with cold night air. “Anyone reported one of these stolen?”
Bing rubbed the back of his neck. “No. But there’d be no reason a farmer would be checking on his thresher in the middle of winter. Whoever it belongs to might not have noticed yet that it was missing.”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“The Tractor Trio likes to drive large farm equipment through the front windows of banks. How did it get here?”
Murph backed out and looked around. “I’ve been out a lot, going around, taking care of business. Kate works a regular shift. It wouldn’t have been hard to find time when neither of us was around. It keeps snowing. Tracks would have been covered in ten or twenty minutes. I never saw any.”
One of the FBI boys ran around the side of the house to investigate the shooting.
Bing waved him back. “Stay right there. This here might be an unrelated crime scene. I don’t want any extra footprints.”
Murph scanned the landscaping. The thresher couldn’t have come up his driveway, his woodpile was in the way, but it could have rolled back here through any of his neighbors’ treeless yards.
In a split second, everything fell into place. “Wendy White. Moved next door recently. Has a boyfriend and a grown son. According to Kate, neither live with her. So that they’re not seen together? I’ve been over to her house and happened to see a serious gun cabinet and a safe. Her son drives a black BMW-M5.”
“Getaway car,” Bing said. “V-10 engine, 500 horsepower.”
“Tops out at 155 miles per hour.”
Bing nodded again and looked toward the neighbor’s house with interest. “Still not exactly a smoking gun.”
“She eats at the Main Street Diner three times a day.”
“Sitting at a table where she can have the bank across the road in sight?”
“I’d be willing to bet my combat pay. And I bet the third partner drives a dark-blue sedan. I’ve seen it on the street, just hanging out. Kate saw it at the diner. We thought it belonged to the killer who was hunting her.” He looked toward the road. “Do you know what this street is?”
Bing followed his gaze, eyes narrowed. Then he gave a quick grin. “The shortcut between the bank and Route 1. For a quick getaway. They were scouting it out, looking for traffic patterns.” He reached for his radio unit. “Let’s see if we have enough for a search warrant. I’m calling this in.”
* * *
Kate and Murph were in protective custody and removed from the property by the time the FBI stormed Wendy White’s house, with local police assistance. Captain Bing had called, however, to let Murph know that they had Wendy in custody and were searching for her partners, which made Murph happy. He had cop in the blood, Kate thought, pretty happy herself.
They were going to receive some serious reward money for leading the authorities to the bank robbers. Apparently some marked bills from one of the hits were found with Wendy.
Murph drove down the Interstate, traffic sparse, the sun rising on the horizon.
“Do you think Asael will try to find us?” She leaned her head against the headrest.
“He might not. Beyond anything else, he’s smart. He’s on the top of his game, uncaptured, which means he’s smarter than the rest. He just saw his lover fail. He might realize that this is one situation he’s better off staying away from. He has to know he’ll be expected.”
“Or he could want revenge badly enough not to give a flying fudge.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to make me not worry?”
“You deserve to relax for a night. When we get where we're going, I'll be giving you long speeches on a regular basis about always being prepared and all that. You can call me Drill Sergeant Dolan.”
“I'm sure I'll be able to think of a number of names to call you.” She smiled sweetly.
“So you do think he'll come after us?” she asked after a minute, unable to let the subject drop.
“Probably, yes. And, in any case, we'll act as if we knew for sure that he was coming.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t mean he’ll find us.”
“But if he does, we’ll stand up to him together.”
“Personal bodyguard on duty.” He grinned. “And you’ll be receiving extensive firearms training, martial arts all the way to the black belt level, and some other things. I have a list.”
He might have been a tad overestimating what she was capable of. “Is all that necessary?”
“Maybe not.” He winked at her, in a lighter mood than she’d ever seen him. “Maybe it’s just my fantasy to hook up with a hot special ops chick.”
“Don’t let me hold you back. Maybe you can meet one at the local VFW,” she suggested as they passed a WELCOME TO OHIO sign.
“Do you need to stop at the next rest stop?” Murph asked.
“I’m good. How much farther?”
“We’re about halfway there.”
The Marshals Service had a house ready for them in Eastern Ohio. Murph had declined an escort. Their new papers, new identities would be waiting for them at the house when they arrived.
She turned so she could fully look at him. “Are you sure about this? Broslin is your home town. You have your house to finish. You could have gone back to the police department when your shoulder was better.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m right where I want to be.”
He sounded gratifyingly sure, but she couldn't keep herself from pushing. “In Ohio?”
“With the woman I’m falling for.” He looked at her with heat in his gaze. “Is that too fast?”
Her heart tripped. She felt his hot gaze on her skin as if he'd touched her. “I have no idea. I’ve never been in love before. I never trusted anyone enough. I don’t know if I can.”
“Same here. But I’m willing to give it a try.”
So was she. “We could be terrible at this.”
“Or we could learn to trust and figure things out as we go. I’d like to do that.”
Her heart swelled. “Me, too.” If anyone was worth the risk, it was Murph.
A few seconds of silence stretched between them, a million things crowding into her mind all at once. She had serious doubts. Stupid. She knew the kind of man Murph was. She knew him with her heart. This was a good card. And she was scared to pick up her ace because of all the bad cards she'd had in the past. Maybe some part of her still didn't believe she deserved better.
Well, she did, dammit.
For a second she thought of her mother and that long ago lesson about cards. She thought of her family. Even if they couldn't be together right now, gratitude filled her heart. She was grateful for them, and for Murph.
“We'll be fine,” she told him, her voice as sure now as his had been.
He flashed a sexy smile at her, full of desire and promise, that left her dazed for a second.
“I hate him. Mordocai,” she said after
a while. “He had to know I’d miss my dad. He pretended to be a father figure so I’d let my guard down around him.”
“He was smart. But not smart enough. He’s dead and we’re alive.”
They came to a toll booth, a couple of cars in front of them. Looked like the guy at the gate had trouble finding enough change.
Murph unsnapped her seat belt and pulled her over, snuggled her to him. “I could have lost you.”
“You didn’t.”
He kissed her.
He had amazing lips and he knew how to use them. His warmth and strength enveloped her. His hand roamed her back then slipped forward to cup her breast as he deepened the kiss.
Desire shot through her, zipping all the way to her core.
The small sound of capitulation that escaped the back of her throat was answered by a feral growl. Pleasure tingled through her.
They didn’t realize the line of cars had started moving until someone beeped their horn.
She scooted back to her side, snapped her seat belt on, her entire body flushed with heat.
Murph cleared his throat as he pulled forward and paid the toll, then stepped on the gas. “Maybe we should stop at that next rest stop. We’ve been on the road a while. We could take a break.”
“We could get a hotel room and catch a quick nap,” she suggested, oh, so innocently.
His lips stretched into a grin. “We don’t have to be that quick. At one point I’d like to take my time with you, Miss Milano.”
Her new identity. They were going into witness protection as an engaged couple. His new last name was Andrews, which apparently meant 'warrior' in Greek, so he was pretty pleased with it.
Tingles of anticipation raced across her skin as she watched the smile that played above his masculine lips. She missed her family, but being with Murph felt right, too. As if she belonged with him. She wished she could take him home to meet her parents and Emma. They would like Murph.
“Do you think we’ll ever be able to return to our real lives?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Robin said.”
“The mail woman?” She narrowed her eyes. “Is she like psychic? Sometimes she says strange stuff.”
He nodded.
“She told you about the thresher, right? She predicted it?”
“Not exactly. Turns out she saw the thresher go into the barn when she was out walking her poodle.”
“When was this?”
“The night Wendy came over with the cookies and had that infernal music playing with the volume turned up high.”
So they wouldn't hear the engine rumble. Sneaky. And it'd been snowing, so the tire tracks were covered by morning. She shook her head then changed the subject to something she'd been thinking about. “Do you think I could tell my family now that I’m alive?”
“No. There’s a slim chance that Asael still doesn’t know. Mordocai could have tracked you down on his own. He might have planned taking you out as a surprise present to his lover. Until Asael is in custody or dead, it’d be best to keep everything as it is right now.”
“You think they’ll catch him?”
“The agents have a new lead now. They’ll be able to track Mordocai back to the odd jobs he did with Asael. Those hits will lead to new clues. This is the biggest break the FBI and the Interpol ever had in the case.”
“Okay.” It wasn’t as if the time they spent waiting would be terrible. She'd be with Murph. She smiled at him.
They drove over some potholes and the blanket slid off their pile of boxes on the back seat. She reached out to straighten it, but not before he glanced back in the rear-view mirror. His eyes narrowed.
“Is that the hot chocolate machine?”
“I’m bringing it.”
“We talked about this.”
“I never even got to try it.”
“It’s a gift from another man.”
“You’re jealous.”
He harrumphed. “Maybe.”
“We’ll negotiate.”
He drew up an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to be awfully convincing.” The sexual undertone in his voice sent tingles across her skin. The smoldering look in his eyes made her mouth go dry.
He flipped on his turn signal and took the next exit toward the Best Western that stood at the rise of the hill, the sun coming up behind it.
She shifted on her seat, impatient to get there.
Maybe he interpreted that as worry, because he said, “We'll be fine once we get settled into our new lives.” Paused. “I’m probably not done with the nightmares,” he warned. “There could be all kinds of weirdness coming out post deployment. That’s what they said at the hospital. If we'll be living together long-term.... I just thought you should know. But I'm going to handle it.”
Chocolate had always been her favorite word, but long-term sounded pretty fantastic, too, she decided. “Okay.”
“Just like that?”
“I’m a chocoholic. Nobody’s perfect.”
“It’s not exactly the same.”
“We make a pretty good team.”
He smiled. “We do. Wherever we are, we’ll be home, I think, as long as we’re together.”
“You’re a soldier and a police officer, a warrior and all that involves. Why do you get to be wise, too?” She gave a mock frown. “What do I get to be?”
“Smart, sexy and crazy about me.” He grinned at her. “What do you have to say about that?”
She smiled back, her heart filled with warmth. “I’m not going to argue with anything that starts with me being smart and sexy.”
The End
(OK, not really. Murph and Kate will be returning to Broslin in a future novel, so you'll see them again :-))
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Books by Dana Marton
AGENTS UNDER FIRE (TRILOGY)
DEATHTWATCH
DEATHSCAPE
DEATHTRAP
DEATHBLOW – Coming in December 2013
If you’d like to be notified when DEATHBLOW is released, please visit my web site at http://www.danamarton.com and sign up for my newsletter. I only send out a one page note when I have a new book out, usually four times a year, so I promise not to overwhelm your email!
If you don’t want to wait that long to read another romantic suspense story from me, check out ,DEATHSCAPE my #1 Amazon bestselling romantic suspense. (Jack Sullivan's story. He's the cop who replaces Murph at the Broslin P.D.)
After a near-death experience, artist Ashley Price is compelled to paint visions of the dead, and fears she's gone crazy. Then she paints a man buried alive and, recognizing the surroundings, she rushes to save him.
Instead of being grateful to her for rescuing him, Detective Jack Sullivan accuses her of being in league with a serial killer. He swears he will put her behind bars. Except, the more time he spends with her, the more he falls under her spell. Can he trust her, or is he walking into another deadly trap?
Or read about Captain Bing and the woman who's doing her best to drive him nuts in DEATHTRAP.
She'd been "the sick girl" for most of her life. She refused to go straight to "the weird girl". Heart-transplant recipient Sophie Curtis has been in her own antiseptic bubble for so long, she just might not be able to venture out into the real world again. Her spooky body memories are scary enough, but then she finds herself in the cross hairs of a killer.
"Love was blind, people said. But lust was blind, deaf and reckless." Ethan Bing hadn't been a great romantic before he became a cop. Whatever shred of optimism he had left after becoming Broslin Chief of Police
had been seared out of him by the unsolved murder of his wife two years before. A new case brings the killer within reach just as Sophie pops into his life. She gets through his defenses like no other before, but soon it becomes clear that she's been selected as the killer's next victim.
AGENTS UNDER FIRE, my romantic suspense trilogy is also available now in print and all ebook formats.
Excerpt from AGENTS UNDER FIRE
Chapter One
Dark waters lapped the century-old palace’s foundation, eager to claim the forgotten building on one of Venice’s backstreet canals. At four in the February morning, tourists still partied on in the distance, drunk on love, youth and full-bodied Italian wine.
Gabe Cannon could hear both the water and the faint beat of the music, but he couldn’t hear the half dozen men in the building with him. His new commando team spread out like ghosts moving through the night.
“Target on the roof,” the team leader’s voice whispered in his earpiece.
He stole up the crumbling stairs, ready for the rogue soldier who needed to be brought in before he caused more damage. He’d known Jake Tekla ten years ago in the army--a decent guy back then, but war could change a person, could even twist a man’s mind.
Static hissed in his earpiece before the words, “Kill order authorized. Repeat, authorized to shoot on sight.”
His instincts prickled. Standard procedure called for an attempt to capture first, and see what information they could gain during interrogation. Usable intelligence trumped a quick kill, every time. Then again, he worked for a private security firm now: XO-ST. Xtreme Ops Shadow Teams. They did things differently than his previous employers, the U.S. Army and the FBI.
Gabe reached the roof. Plywood patches formed a psychedelic pattern in the moonlight—an unexpected break. Not having to sneak around on crumbling Mediterranean roof tiles would make this much easier. He stole forward and eased into the cover of a crooked chimney stack.