Hot Pursuit

by Lynn Raye Harris

  “So you were never on board Candyland.” He rolled his head from side to side, taking in the glossy interior. “She’s a beauty, just like her namesake.”

  “Stepmama number two, right?”

  He’d spoken with an edge of bitterness, but she knew better than to expect she’d get to the root of it. One thing about Matt Girard—he was about as open as a padlocked chest when he wanted to keep his secrets close.

  He snorted and took another swig of water. “Yeah. Lucky number two.”

  Evie’s brow furrowed as she contemplated him. She’d known his mother’s death had been hard on him, and she’d known he resented the first woman his father had married afterward. But they hadn’t really talked about it. The senator had remarried within the year, and Matt had been bitter about it. She hadn’t blamed him at all.

  By the time Senator Girard had married his second Playboy Bunny wannabe wife, Matt didn’t like to talk about it and she hadn’t known how he felt anymore. Now, looking at him, she realized it was no wonder he’d played the womanizing jock so well in school—he’d had a fine example in his own father.

  “So why didn’t your father rename the boat when they divorced? It must be kind of difficult bringing new wives here and having to explain the name.”

  Matt laughed softly. “First of all, it’s bad luck to rename a boat. And second, the old man doesn’t much care about sparing feelings, chère. Neither did Candy, for that matter.”

  “You didn’t like her much, huh?”

  The look he gave her was unguarded, full of emotion. It shocked her, considering how good he usually was at shuttering the things he felt. It made her curious and strangely uncomfortable at the same time.

  “What the hell.” He said it more to himself than to her. He speared her with a look that pinned her in place. His eyes gleamed bright in his soot-darkened face. Bright and hard as diamonds. “I thought I loved her.”

  Evie’s heart thudded painfully. “You mean—?”

  “Yeah.” He swallowed the rest of the water. “I’d just turned sixteen. Candy was twenty-two. She thought it’d be a nice revenge on the old man, I think. Either that or she got off on the idea of screwing us both. Didn’t matter though because I thought it was true love. Planned to run away together.”

  Evie swallowed. She had no idea. “What happened?”

  Matt shrugged. “He gave her a divorce settlement that made her happy, so she left. Told me to grow up and get over it.”

  “My God, what a rotten thing to do to a kid. You were only sixteen.”

  He was looking at her intently. “No worse than what I did to you.”

  Evie went over and sat beside him, threading her fingers through his. “No, Matt, it’s much worse. She was an adult. She took advantage of your feelings for her and your inexperience.”

  She’d been so jealous of Belle and all the other girls he’d paid attention to back then. Little had she known.

  His thumb traced a circle on the underside of her wrist. “I know. Though believe me, sleeping with a stripper was pretty much a fantasy come true at that age.”

  Heat flared beneath her skin. She cleared her throat, trying to focus. “Did your father know?”

  “I’m not sure, but I doubt it. I don’t think the old man could have kept it to himself had he known. I can’t imagine why she didn’t tell him. It would have been just like her to set us against each other. I guess she figured we didn’t need any help in that department.”

  “I’m sorry you don’t get along with him, Matt. I wish there was something I could say or do to make it right.”

  He smiled. “You can’t, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

  She sucked in a breath, willing her roiling feelings to subside. “But that’s pretty normal, really. Not to get along with a parent, I mean.”

  “Probably. Except I don’t think we’ve spoken more than two paragraphs in ten years. To say he was disappointed in my career choice is putting it mildly.”

  “Have you even tried? Talking, I mean.”

  His thumb stopped its lazy circuit on her skin. The pain she saw on his face wasn’t just from the headache. He finally succeeded in shuttering the emotion roiling behind his gray eyes and she could have kicked herself for pushing him. “My head’s about to split open, chère. Why don’t we worry about our more immediate problems, yeah?”

  Evie nodded. She couldn’t imagine what kind of hell it must have been for him to think he loved a woman who was his stepmama, a woman who was older and more sophisticated than any Rochambeau High girl could have been. Maybe it was guilt that kept him from talking to his father. Or maybe they just didn’t like each other, like Matt said. It could happen, though she couldn’t imagine not talking to Mama or Sarah for ten years.

  True, she’d practically run away from this town the minute she was old enough, and she didn’t come back very often, but she did call. But she couldn’t deny that everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours was her fault. If she hadn’t taken up with David and been oblivious to his sticky fingers, her mama’s house would be intact and she’d be back in Tampa. Maybe Evangeline’s would have failed anyway, but at least it would have been her own failure.

  She’d never know. But if she were still in Tampa, she would not be sitting across from this man, aching for him so much it hurt and knowing this thing between them was never going anywhere.

  Oh God, she was right back in it, wasn’t she? Wanting him just as much as she ever did when she’d been sixteen and star struck. Matt Girard was a good man, a decent man. He’d risked his life and career, risked jail time, to help her.

  Because Sarah, a girl he didn’t even know, was in danger. He didn’t have to do this. He could have washed his hands of the whole thing the minute she’d gotten the news that Sarah was missing. Instead, he’d offered to help—and he hadn’t stopped helping since. Anyone else would have walked away by now.

  Not Matt. She admired him so much in that moment. And she really, really wanted to press her mouth to his and show him how grateful she was for what he’d become.

  She wasn’t going to do it, of course. Evie bit the inside of her lip. She was so sunk. She liked Matt, really liked him, and she wanted to spend time with him. Time making love, talking, and doing all the things couples did.

  She wanted a relationship with him, and she didn’t quite know what that said about her right now.

  But when this was all over, when Sarah was safe and Christina’s wedding was done, Matt was leaving Rochambeau. He was going back to his shadowy military world of secret operations. A world he loved. A world that put him at risk every time he went to work.

  The truth was that she might not ever see him again. And that thought pierced her like a dagger to the chest.

  His fingers grasped hers across the table. “This stuff that’s happened isn’t your fault.” The little pain in her heart intensified. “We can’t ever know what people will do, what lengths they’ll go to. Don’t blame yourself for coming home again, Evie.”

  She sniffed. “How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

  His grin slid into her heart and made her warm. “Call it a hunch.”

  “I know you’re right. We can’t ever know what makes someone tick. But I still wish I’d made better choices.”

  He squeezed her hand. “We make the best choices we can with the information we have. Did West tell you he was a criminal? Did he present you with a plan that mentioned Ryan Rivera or tell you he was going to steal all your money?”

  “Of course not. But it’s not that simple. I should have been more cautious.”

  Matt leaned forward. “Evie, you aren’t omniscient. West was a pro at what he did. Accept that things happen and move on.”

  “Is that what you usually do?”

  His eyes clouded, but then he nodded firmly. “Absolutely.” He let go of her hand and pulled himself upright as he reached for the phone he’d clipped to his belt. “Better call Kev and see if they got anything
yet.”

  *

  “Nothing on the recording, huh?” Matt’s head was throbbing less, and he’d managed to shove the aches and pains of slamming into the ground from his mind as much as possible. Man, a nice long soak in a hot tub with the jets on high—and Evie naked beside him—would be so heavenly right about now.

  “Just typical night sounds in the analysis. Frogs, crickets, birds—that kind of thing. Something that sounds like a splash, but that’s it.”

  “Could be a gator.” Which means they had Sarah near the bayou. But that hardly narrowed things down.

  “I might have been able to analyze it more extensively, but Mendez came in. I had to back out of the program pretty quick.”

  Matt pushed a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Kev. You better stop now. Don’t do anything else for me, okay? Wipe the files and forget any of this happened.”

  Kev swore. “Christ, Richie, we used military assets to track a civvie for you. You think I’m backing out now?”

  “I could order you to cease.”

  “Just like you ordered me to help, right? Forget it. Sir,” he added, emphasizing the difference in their ranks as if to say, this time, it didn’t matter to him in the least. Matt didn’t bother arguing. It was no use when Big Mac made up his mind to do something. If this were an official op, yeah, his second-in-command would obey orders. But not now. Matt didn’t know whether to feel grateful or guilty. Right now, he was opting for grateful. He needed the help and he was damn glad to get it.

  “You got anything on that car yet?”

  “Glad you see it my way. Nothing rented to a Brianna Sweeney, but several dark Chryslers from at least five airports in the region. Kid’s working on narrowing that down. West’s phone hasn’t been used again.”

  “Can we tap the GPS positioners on the rentals?”

  “Kid wants to narrow it down before we do. Less of a signature.”

  “Got it.” The smaller their electronic signature, the better. If this were a sanctioned op, it wouldn’t matter. Since HOT was operating under the radar, they had to be damn careful. Hell, he’d gone so far over the line he didn’t even know where the damn thing was anymore. And he didn’t regret it. He would not let Sarah die at the hands of those maniacs just because it was against the rules—hell, the law—to use HOT assets for personal reasons. He’d pay for it later, gladly, so long as Evie’s sister was alive and well.

  And so long as Evie was out of danger permanently. He could go back to whatever life he had so long as he knew she was safe. If he had to give up his life on the team, it didn’t seem quite as soul-crushing a prospect as it had only hours ago. Because there was life after HOT, even if he’d never quite thought so.

  There was Evie. There was this thing between them. And maybe a whole lot of steamy nights where he lost himself in her arms, provided he were free to return to Rochambeau. There were worse things he could do. Even if it gave him a twinge of regret to imagine his life without HOT, it wasn’t the completely empty prospect he’d always thought it would be.

  Matt finished up the call, then sat back and closed his eyes to think. He needed to turn on the marine radio, listen to the police chatter, and see what was going on with the house explosion—but he wasn’t ready just yet.

  Jee-zus, he still couldn’t believe they were sitting here, on Rochambeau Lake, alive and contemplating their next move. Not because he didn’t fully expect to be able to take care of himself with a contract killer on his tail—in a way, he was a contract killer too, except his targets were usually terrorists—but with a concussion, and a chef in charge of the getaway car, he was simply amazed they were here at all.

  She’d done some mighty fine driving back there. Except for a few moments on the dock, he’d barely divined even a hint of panic in her. She was calm and cool-headed under pressure, though he’d definitely noted the effects of adrenaline in her shaky hands on the steering wheel. It was to be expected, yet she’d liked it too. Oh, not at first, certainly. But after, when they’d driven away, she’d been happy with herself, even if she couldn’t quite admit it.

  Evie Baker was an adrenaline junkie in her own way, even if she didn’t know it.

  She’d been calm about Candy though. Calm and understanding. What the hell was he doing spilling his guts like that? He’d never told anyone about Candy. Man, just get him a spot on fucking Dr. Phil or something. He’d be mighty entertaining, wouldn’t he?

  He rubbed the side of his head. The hammers in his temples had subsided to a dull thudding and he didn’t feel dizzy when he turned. Progress. He’d hate to have to make a quick getaway right now, but soon enough he’d be back to normal.

  Or normal enough anyway.

  He got up and flipped on the radio. Evie smiled at him, the corners of her mouth barely lifting. She was tired, operating only on adrenaline again. He wasn’t sure how much more she could endure. Which was another reason he’d wanted to take Candyland out. He could leave her on the boat, secure in the knowledge she’d be safe, while he went after Brianna Sweeney and her comrades. He didn’t plan to tell her about that part until he had to.

  “…a late-model BMW, silver, possibly with two people. A Ford F-150, red, reported stolen, last seen heading north on Lake Avenue…”

  “They’re talking about us, aren’t they?” Evie leaned against the counter, staring at the radio as if it would be the one to answer her question. “Whoever was behind us stole the truck they were in.”

  “Yeah.” Finding the Chrysler probably wouldn’t do them a bit of good now, but he decided not to stop Kev from tracing it.

  “Detective Proctor will be thrilled once he figures out who was in the BMW.”

  “If we’re lucky, it’ll take them a while to find the car. They’ll connect it with me pretty quickly, but the senator will make them jump through hoops before he admits I have it.”

  “Why would he do that?” She looked genuinely puzzled.

  “He’ll be trying to decide how embarrassing it could be for the family, and he’ll get Mrs. Doucet on it ASAP. They won’t make a statement while they consider all the possibilities.” And just wait until Colonel Mendez learned about it. The nails were pounding the coffin closed on Matt’s career faster than he could knock them back out again.

  “What about the people who saw us leave the marina?”

  He didn’t bother to lie. “A bit more problematic. Still, it’ll take the police some time to mobilize the cavalry. In the meantime, we need to go into the bayou.”

  “Will this thing make it?”

  “The channel’s deep enough if you know where to go. We only need to get under the cypresses and turn off the lights.”

  “And then what? We can’t sit out here all night.”

  “No.”

  She flipped absently through a rack of CDs sitting on the counter, her frustration evident in the way the cases clacked together. The old man hadn’t quite made the shift to MP3s yet. Hell, he probably didn’t even have an iPod. Suddenly, Evie’s hand stilled above the next case in line.

  “What is it?”

  She looked like a movie on pause. Then she snatched a case from the rack and opened it, took the CD from the holder and turned it over in her hands. “Is it possible to put information on a pre-recorded CD? Like a band’s CD?”

  “No.”

  She looked crestfallen, so he tried to explain.

  “The information is burned onto a polycarbonate surface. You’d need a rewriteable CD with a phase-change alloy surface in order to make any additional changes to it.”

  Violet eyes stared back at him for a moment. She flipped the case over, studied it. Two spots of color appeared in her pale cheeks as she turned something around in her head.

  “David liked music. He got me into the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I have a CD of theirs he gave me, greatest hits I think. He had them on his iPod, but he liked to have the CD too. Said the music was purer or some such thing. There are a few other bands he liked as well. I have all the CDs he gave
me, Matt. What if he put one of those media cards into one of the cases?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “THIS IS RIDICULOUS.” EVIE WATCHED as Matt stood on the stern and shed his clothes. He’d jolted into gear the second she’d told him about the CDs. It was like someone had flipped a switch on a Christmas tree and all the lights popped on the way his face had lit up. “Let’s take our chances driving. We can get back to Reynier’s Retreat and get the CDs from my car in less than twenty minutes.”

  “We can’t risk it, Evie. The cops are looking for the Beemer, and you have no idea who was in that truck or where they’ve gone. They could be at the marina now, talking to people and learning we took the boat.”

  “Then at least drive this thing back to the marina to get a smaller one.”

  She still couldn’t fathom that he planned to swim the distance. In alligator-infested water. Naked—or nearly naked anyway. Evie wrapped her arms around her middle and shivered. Made snakes look like a breeze.

  “I already told you,” he said patiently while he stood there in his underwear and sent her pulse revving, “we’re too visible in this boat and it’s too big to take up the bayou to Reynier’s Retreat. We need a smaller one.”

  Evie forced herself not to let her gaze drift. She kept her eyes locked on his.

  “So you’re going to waltz up in your underwear and ask someone to give you a key?” Though she had to admit if it were a female he talked to looking like that, he’d likely get offered a whole lot more than a key. The thought did not amuse her in the least.

  He grinned. “No, I’m going to swim up and borrow what we need.”

  “Borrow? You’re planning to hotwire a boat?”

  “Something like that. I’ll take it back later, don’t worry.”

  “Isn’t it a long way to the marina?” She could see the lights winking in the distance since he’d moved the yacht closer. But still. It had to be at least a mile.

  He put his hands on her shoulders. “Chère, I usually swim five times this distance in full gear. This is easy, believe me.”