“We also need to figure out a way to draw out the source inside the CIA.”
Killion’s lips twisted. “I’m thinking it’s someone who knows me personally. Someone I’ve worked with.”
“You have any enemies at Langley?” Parker asked.
“Who doesn’t?” Killion countered.
Parker didn’t rise to the bait. “Anyone who hates you enough to sell you out to a Colombian drug lord?”
He pressed his lips together. “There was one woman, but she left the agency years ago.” He rubbed his fingers over his jaw. “June Vanek. She went through the Farm same time as me. She was pissed to be stuck in Islamabad, but military support was limited in the early days and many of the tribal leaders wouldn’t deal with a woman. She persuaded the brass to bomb a village near the Pak border.”
Parker nodded. The guy had received the Distinguished Service Cross for his actions in Afghanistan and not long after that had started working covertly for the CIA. Parker understood the nuances and politics of war.
“I’d told her the informant was full of shit. I’d told HQ we were getting somewhere with local people, but rather than listening to the man on the ground they trusted an unreliable source and an inexperienced field officer.” His mouth went dry. Kids had been among the victims killed. “Needless to say, she seriously fucked up our efforts to gain support in the region.” He gave Parker a tight smile. “I reamed her out in public, then laid it all out in dispatches. I was surprised they didn’t fire my ass for that one.”
“She resent you for it?”
“Hated my fucking guts, but she wasn’t the only one.” Killion’s methods were a little unorthodox and he bent noses out of shape.
Parker frowned. “Make a list of the people who dislike you most, or the ones you think could be bought. I’ll investigate them all.”
Killion didn’t want to wait that long. “I could make a mistake that lets someone know where I am. Nothing too obvious. I’m not an idiot, no point pretending to be.” His gave his trademark cocky grin but wasn’t sure who he was trying to sell it to. Parker wasn’t buying, and Audrey wasn’t here. What the hell was she doing back there?
“You have anyone you trust at the CIA?”
“A lot of the best people retired in the last two years.” Burned out after fourteen years of grueling stress and unrelenting tension. “There’s Crista Zanelli. She’s an analyst. We had a thing years ago but we’re good friends. She said my boss has been asking questions about where I am. I could call him.” He should call him.
Parker nodded carefully. “Or we could organize a call from some payphone to your boss or Crista and see who runs a search on the number. If no one takes that bait we’ll make the next move a little more obvious, like an email asking for a meet.”
“Might work.” He climbed to his feet and went to the door of the room Audrey had entered earlier. What the hell was she doing in there? He opened it carefully and saw she was curled up on the bed, fast asleep.
Something wrapped around his heart and squeezed tight. He wanted to climb in beside her, but that part of their relationship was over. Emotion crowded through him. The thought of never touching her again made his fingers clench in reaction. Loneliness at the realization he’d already lost her was like a physical ache. But the idea of her being hurt was worse.
It was over. His only job now was to get her through this alive.
Chapter Seventeen
THEY DROVE THROUGH the icy streets of Louisville in the back of a van that had a phone company logo emblazoned on the side—courtesy of a group of mysterious FBI agents who’d left it waiting for them in a parking lot at the airport. Audrey wriggled into a pair of jeans that were tighter than she normally wore and tried not to fall over as they went around a corner. Alex Parker was at the wheel in the front cab, leaving her and Killion alone in the back. Every mile closer to their destination seemed to prize them farther and farther apart. Killion’s expression grew increasingly cold and forbidding.
She hastily pulled off her halter dress and the bikini top beneath and tossed them on the floor. She was more worried about the temperature than the idea of Killion seeing her naked again, but he wasn’t even looking at her. He was checking his weapon, pissed because she wasn’t doing what he told her to do. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.
Getting through customs had been easier than expected. Killion had kept his arm around her and she’d pasted a tired smile whenever the border control guy had glanced in her direction.
“I don’t want you to do this.” He finally broke the fraught silence.
He’d been trying to sway her decision ever since she’d announced her intentions. If Parker hadn’t agreed with her she was pretty sure she’d be locked up in a trunk somewhere.
“I heard you the first forty-seven times.” She thrust her arms into a long sleeved black T-shirt and pulled it over her head.
Killion looked at her now. “I thought we had something special.”
She eyed him narrowly. “Are you really going to use what happened between us to try and change my mind?”
“I thought you trusted me?”
Jesus, he was using everything she’d said against her—because that’s what a good operative would do. She fluttered her lashes at him. “I do trust you.”
“Then don’t do this,” he said sharply.
“I trust you to keep me safe.”
“And I thought you were supposed to be smart.” Cool eyes skimmed her body. “The only thing you should trust about me is my ability to get you off.”
Damn, she’d tried so hard not to lose her temper, but the guy was purposely poking her until she lashed out. “Because that’s as close as you like anyone to get, isn’t it. Your whole freaking life is ‘classified’ and you use that to your advantage.” But she’d had enough of her chain being yanked. It was his turn. “It was just sex. Get over yourself.”
He went to stand up, but there wasn’t enough room. “If that was just sex, I’m a used car salesman.”
And he’d do very well at that too.
“So what happens next, babe?” She braced her arm on the side of the van to keep from falling over. “We getting hitched and having babies? Shall I pick out the wedding china?”
His jaw tightened.
The pressure in her throat had a lot to do with the fact they’d never have the chance to do any of that. And the last thing she wanted him to realize was the idea of a life with him was ridiculously appealing. Even for a woman like her, smart, independent, self-sufficient and happy with her life—or at least she had been before someone had tried to stab her to death and frame her for murder.
She went on the offensive. “You gonna string me along with false promises?” She sneered. “Maybe you think I’m so desperate for a man you can control me with great sex?”
There was that glint in his eye again. “It was great sex.”
“That isn’t the point.” And it wasn’t. She wasn’t an idiot. He needed to start thinking of her as a partner, not as a potential suspect or victim. She wouldn’t be controlled by him dangling their “relationship” in front of her like a heart-shaped carrot. “I’m not yours to take care of, Patrick. You don’t get a say in my decisions.”
“Really?” A tic worked in his jaw. “Because I could still pack you off to a Black Camp the way I should have done at the start.”
“You wouldn’t do that to an innocent woman.”
His smile was edged with a slice of mean. “Trust me, Doc, I’ve done worse.”
“That’s what you tell everyone, isn’t it? It’s what you tell yourself. That you’re some soulless badass.”
“The first night you were attacked?” He broke into Spanish, his voice deeper, rougher than usual. “Yo se cuando estas mintiendo, chica, para que sepas.”
Her heart squeezed so forcefully she felt a stab of pain. Oh. My. God. She sat down before she fell over. It was him. Killion was the man who’d bound her wrists and ankles and scared her s
o badly she’d nearly stroked out. They stared at one another, the knowledge of what he’d done to her, of how badly he’d scared her vibrating between them. She stood and slapped him so hard the sound reverberated around the cab.
They both held their breaths, then he rubbed the side of his cheek. “Assault of a federal officer, sweetheart.” His smile moved all the muscles in his face, but didn’t reach his eyes. “Now I can hold you indefinitely.”
“Yeah?” Her nails cut into her palms. “That ship sailed after you came inside me the first five times, sweetheart. And don’t think I can’t read that carefully blank expression you’re so proud of.” It was starting to drive her nuts.
His eyes narrowed.
God, she wanted to hit him again, but he’d just sit there and let her. She shouldn’t be so attracted to a man who was capable of such deception and violence, but thinking about that first night, he hadn’t actually hurt her. He’d never physically hurt her. He was an ass, but he was an ass with a conscience no matter what he claimed. She reached out and smoothed her hand over the skin she’d struck. “Your blank expressions equal having something to hide, and in this case that’s your feelings for me.”
He captured her hand against his face. “I do have feelings for you.”
“I know. I have feelings for you, too. It doesn’t matter. I’m doing this anyway.”
A rap on the panel made her jump. “We’re a block away. Keep it down back there.”
Great. Alex Parker had heard every word.
Killion clenched his jaw. Then he indicated she come closer, so she leaned in. A jolt of surprise shot through her when he lifted her sweater and clipped a tiny transmitter to her T-shirt. Then he dragged her lips to his, pulling her tight against his body in a way that screamed primal possession. The kiss was hot and furious and spoke of all the ways they’d made love and all the reasons they had to stop.
Abruptly he held her away from him and stared deep into her eyes. “Don’t fucking die, Audrey.”
She swallowed hard. “I’ll try not to.”
* * *
AUDREY WORE A gray wool sweater, jeans, sneakers, and a hooded slicker pulled low over her face. She stood outside the wrought-iron gates and pressed the security buzzer. Gabriel lived in a huge mansion on River Road in the wealthy suburb of Glenview. He also had a horse farm out near Jamestown where he and the family had spent long summers and where she and Rebecca had practiced jumping and going on long carefree trail rides.
She felt like she was betraying all those happy memories by standing here in the rain.
“Who is it?” asked the guard.
A few years ago she’d been a regular visitor, but she didn’t recognize the guard’s voice, which was a good thing. “Marley. I was a friend of Mr. Brightman’s daughter in college—Rebecca. I wanted to talk to Mr. Brightman about an idea I had—”
“Call his secretary to arrange an appointment. Mr. Brightman doesn’t like to be disturbed at home.”
“No! Wait. Please, just tell him Marley is here. I’m sure he’ll see me.” She bit her lip.
There was hesitation, then a terse, “Wait there.”
Marley had been Rebecca’s cat. The sweet creature had died not long after Rebecca. Gabriel had buried it with his daughter. Audrey doubted the security guard would connect the two. But Gabriel should.
Would he call the cops? She hoped not.
She also hoped the guy was alone. Devon lived in a condo downtown. Her parents lived in Fern Creek, about ten minutes’ drive from her Jeffersontown apartment on the other side of the city. She ached thinking about them. She ached too, for what her best friend would say if she could see her now. She wouldn’t approve. Rebecca had idolized her father, just as he had adored his daughter. He’d taken her death hard.
Audrey pushed the memories aside. Regardless of loss and grief people still weren’t allowed to run around trying to kill other people. It was wrong. She tapped her toes with impatience and not a small amount of nerves as she waited.
The cold had been a bit of a shock after the heat of the tropics. But it was a relief to be on home soil. If nothing else, she had a better chance of surviving prison.
She pursed her lips. Dammit. She hadn’t done anything wrong. The gates started to open and she jolted.
“Come on up to the front door,” said the mechanical voice from the speaker.
“Thanks,” Audrey shouted through the rain and hurried up the driveway. The listening device Killion had attached allowed him and Parker to hear everything. Her safe word was “toffee.” If she said anything toffee-related Killion had promised to come in, guns blazing. Well, he hadn’t mentioned guns, but she was pretty sure that’s what it would involve.
Thought of guns and bullets brought memories of Rebecca crashing back. She clenched her fingers inside her pockets. You never forgot that sort of senseless violence. It was tattooed with photographic-like accuracy on your brain—like Hector with the knife, like Killion breaking that man’s neck on the beach under the hot Caribbean sun. Human civilization was supposed to be more evolved but clearly wasn’t. It was paradoxical to realize they couldn’t live in a peaceful society without strong military and law enforcement institutions backing it up.
A raindrop dripped on her nose and shot her back to the present where she trudged up the ridiculously long drive. The lawn was trimmed. Old stone statues placed strategically around the garden, short hedges adding shape to the landscape. Mature trees lined the mansion from the east side, hiding the house from the neighboring property.
All she needed to do was let Killion into the house undetected so they could find some incriminating evidence that tied Gabriel to the drug cartel.
Sounded easy.
So why was her throat dry and her heart pounding?
Because Audrey Lockhart was a biologist not a government agent. But she wouldn’t be a biologist if she couldn’t get her life back. And this was why she was standing in the cold January rain approaching the house of a Kentucky billionaire.
She braced herself to knock on the imposing red front door, but it flew open and there stood Gabriel, wearing a black sweater and jeans, tartan slippers on his feet. His face was handsome—eyes just like his daughter’s but a little more sunken now, the bones of his skull more prominent than the last time she’d seen him. There was no doubt this man had loved his child—maybe even enough to wish Audrey harm for not being the one to die in her place.
“Oh, my God, Audrey, is it really you?” Joy flashed through his eyes. “When Marten said ‘Marley’ was here, I hoped it might be you…” He reached out and dragged her against him, wet slicker and all. She held herself stiffly in his arms. “I’ve been so worried about you.” He pulled her inside the warmth of the house, checking over her shoulder to make sure no one had seen her from the road.
Audrey didn’t have to fake the tears that welled up. “I’m in a lot of trouble, Mr. Brightman.”
“Gabriel,” he insisted. “You always called me Gabriel.” He put his arm around her and guided her to the den. The room was dark and cozy with a huge TV screen that took up nearly one entire wall and a small fireplace that glowed with heat. Pictures of Rebecca were everywhere, including pictures of her and Rebecca together. “Let me take your coat.” He held out his hands and she slipped it off and handed it over, imagining Killion sitting in a nearby surveillance van, biting off Parker’s head at the slightest infraction.
“You aren’t worried to be alone with a vicious murderer?” Her voice wobbled.
Gabriel shook out the slicker and a thousand droplets of water spun off it. “I know you better than that, Audrey. The girl I know wouldn’t hurt a fly. Want a hot drink to warm up?”
Her support team had said not to drink anything in case it was drugged, but this was one of their little rituals and it would look strange if she said no, especially when she was shivering uncontrollably and her lips were probably blue from cold. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here…”
“You and
I are the only ones in the house”—she could almost hear Killion’s teeth grinding—“except for Marten who’s on the gate. He stays in the apartment over the garage.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
“They worked over the holidays so I sent the cook and housekeeper on a Caribbean cruise.” He smiled at her, brown eyes remaining a little sad. “The gardener wanted to visit his parents in Kenya so I gave him a ticket home.”
This was the man she knew and loved, kind and generous. Killion and Parker would probably suggest he was getting people out of the way so he could do bad things without witnesses. She hated that she was beginning to think like them, but she needed to be smart.
“What about Devon?” Her voice was hesitant as she followed him toward the kitchen.
“I barely see him. Have you spoken to your parents?” He shook his head. “Stupid question. Of course not. That’s the first place the cops would look for you.”
Audrey’s feet slammed to a stop. “I shouldn’t be here. My being here puts you in danger.”
Gabriel ignored her resistance and tugged her into the gleaming white kitchen, which had been remodeled since she’d last been here. “In danger? Me? Hardly. And helping you is what Rebecca would have wanted. What do I care about anything else?” His voice broke and he looked away.
“You still miss her.” Audrey covered his strong fingers with her own.
He squeezed her hand. “Every day. Every second of every hour of every day.”
The silence in the kitchen pressed down on them.
“I miss her, too.” She searched his face, looking for some hint of hatred or betrayal. “I wish I’d been the one who’d died that day, not her.”
He released her and shook his head as he poured milk into a jug and placed it in the microwave. “She wouldn’t have wanted that. She would never have wanted you hurt, and she would gladly have sacrificed herself for you. You know that.”
“I know. I know I do.” Audrey’s voice got tight and she could barely speak. He’d lost his wife about a decade ago. Rebecca had always thought her father would remarry but he never had. He seemed so lonely and Audrey hated being duplicitous. “At least you have Devon.”
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