by Unknown
She picked it up and demonstrated her knowledge of the weapon, including how to remove the magazine and insert it. “I told you, my uncle trained me so I know what I’m doing. Going to a firing range with him was a normal activity. As a matter of fact, I learned how to shoot with a Sig.”
Brooks tried to let tension out of his muscles. He felt wound so tight his head ached. “It’s been a while since you’ve shot a gun, hasn’t it?”
“It’ll be like getting back on a bike.” She made sure the safety was on and deposited the Sig inside her purse. The gun was registered to him and he could get in a shitload of trouble for giving it to her. But it was more important she was safe.
“I need to talk with you about another topic.” Brooks caught her attention. “I want to monitor your cell phone. All we need is your permission.”
Her eyes widened. “That would be an invasion of my privacy.”
“Yes.” He couldn’t argue with her. “But as long as you stick to conversations with Okle, it won’t be. It will help us build a case against him.”
She nodded. “There’s really no question. You can monitor my phone.” She rubbed the back of her head, ruffling her hair. “That reminds me.” She told him about a conversation she’d had earlier with Okle when he’d called her. When she finished, she said, “Is Christie someplace safe now?”
“I can guarantee it.” Brooks leaned forward in his chair. Heat had built inside him as she told him about the call. He could picture himself crushing Okle’s windpipe with his bare hand. “You and I both know that Trace would never let Christie out of his sight without making sure no one could harm her.”
Natasha looked both tense and relieved. “What about our grandparents?”
“We have some of the best men in the business of protecting individuals making sure nothing happens to them. No one will get past these guys.”
“That just leaves Trace, and I know he can protect himself.” Natasha’s shoulders sagged as if a weight had been lifted from her. “This is one time I’m glad our family is small. Fewer people to protect.”
“Everything’s going to be all right, Natasha.” He scooted his chair close to hers and brought her into his lap. “We’re going to get Okle and he’ll never hurt or threaten anyone ever again.”
“Thank you.” She sighed. “I have to leave town tomorrow for Los Angeles.”
Brooks frowned. “Why?”
She explained the other part of the conversation she hadn’t shared with him yet. “Jane Adams will work for me and take care of the store while I’m at the tradeshow.”
“You’re not going to Los Angeles alone.” Brooks set his jaw. “Okle won’t know it, but I’m going with you.”
CHAPTER 22
Brooks’s mind wandered as he lay beside Natasha in her bed, staring up at he ceiling. She seemed as lost in their thoughts as he was.
They had just spent the tradeshow days in Los Angeles with Brooks staying out of sight and Natasha forcing herself to act natural when he knew she wanted to scream instead. Every night she had told him how he day had gone, and every night he only wanted to kill Okle more.
If it weren’t for having the tremendous weight of the danger to Natasha’s friends and family, it would be good to be back home.
“Having you with me in L.A. helped me survive with my sanity intact.” Natasha smiled at Brooks as she rose and rested her elbow on the mattress, the side of her head in her palm. “Thank you.”
His heart seemed to expand in his chest at just the sight of her lovely face and the sound of her voice. She was so beautiful, inside and out.
“I wouldn’t have let you go without me.” He stroked her sex-tousled hair from her eyes. “I know you would have done fine on your own. You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever met, but I’m never letting you face this without me.”
Pain and fear filled her eyes, the light that had been there moments before vanishing. “Now that I know what I’m selling at the tradeshows…” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Without you I don’t think I could have made it through each day knowing I was moving cocaine-filled products for the cartel. God, Brooks. I’m working for the cartel.”
He took her in his embrace and held her. “You’re not working for the cartel. You’re stuck in the middle of a bad but temporary situation. We are going to fix this.”
She nodded, her face against his bare chest. “I believe in you.”
“And I believe in you.” He would do anything to protect this woman, including killing the man who had threatened her and those she loved.
“I suppose we should get up.” She tilted her face to look up at him. “I need to get to my shop so I can be ready to open at nine.”
“I need a shower.” He released her and he scooted up and swung his legs off the bed before getting to his feet. His leg still ached a little, but for the most part his injuries from nearly being run over didn’t bother him anymore.
His phone vibrated on the nightstand, and he glanced at the screen to see that it was Dylan Curtis. “Right after I take this call.”
“You’d better hurry or I’m going to use up all the hot water.” She grinned as she teased him then rolled out of bed and to her feet. She hurried past him, naked, and he swatted her on the ass. “Just for that, you are getting a cold shower.”
He smiled and shook his head, and then answered the call with, “It’s early.”
Dylan laughed. “Crime waits for no man.”
Brooks looked at the bathroom and heard the shower going. He imagined Natasha’s lithe, nude body and his cock hardened. “What’s up?”
Dylan’s tone changed. “Our surveillance and phone taps on Okle have given us enough to obtain a search warrant for his home and his warehouse.”
A rush of excitement shot through Brooks. “Did you get the warrant?”
“Working on it now,” Dylan said. “I think another thing is going to interest you. Take a look at those surveillance photos Sofia gave us at the start of the investigation.”
Brooks reached for his duffel bag and pulled out his iPad before sitting on the edge of the bed. He used the fingerprint identification option to unlock it before opening the app where he accessed the files on the case.
He pulled up the surveillance photos, including a couple of Natasha and Okle together, and scowled. Was it just a couple of weeks ago that he’d thought she was guilty, when in fact she was being used?
“Go to the pictures with Okle’s girlfriend as they’re walking into the retirement center he keeps his mother in.”
Brooks slid his fingers across the screen and scanned the photos until he reached the one Dylan wanted him to see. “Got it.”
“Good. See anything unusual?”
Brooks studied the photograph of Selena Gallos walking up the stone steps into the retirement center. “What am I looking for?
“Look at her right ankle.”
The woman had great legs. She had great everything. But it was the sun glinting on metal, just below her slacks’ cuff that caught his eye. Not only that, but he saw the outline of an object behind what looked like silky-ish material. “She’s packing.”
“Now the question is why?” Dylan sounded thoughtful. “Maybe she’s Okle’s bodyguard—that would explain their relationship.”
Brooks considered it. “Could be she keeps it around for protection.” He thought about the Sig Natasha now carried that he’d given her.
“She might even be one of Okle’s hired assassins.” Dylan said. “She sure as hell looks deadly.”
Brooks shook his head. “What gives you that idea?”
“I’ve been analyzing dates of disappearances of key individuals, those that happen to coincide with Selena not being seen for a couple of days,” Dylan said. “Could be she kills off men or women Okle wants eliminated.”
“That’s a possibility.” Brooks looked over the picture of Selena. “She does have an ice-cold look about her. She just might be cool enough to be a killer.”
/> “Exactly.” Dylan went on, “Not only is she carrying and disappearing at interesting times, there’s something else. We got her print. A perfect one.”
“And?”
“We ran the fingerprint and she has a record.”
Brooks felt a stirring of keen interest. “What’s on it?”
“Drug trafficking charges, but she got off.” Dylan paused. “And, get this. She was tried but not convicted for attempted murder.”
“Sonofabitch.” Brooks raked his fingers through his hair. “She could be working for the cartel. She might even have been sent to keep an eye on Okle.”
“Even if that means fucking him.” Dylan had a bite to his tone.
Brooks glanced at the bathroom. “Let me know when you get the warrant.”
“Will do.”
After Brooks signed off, he remained sitting and stared at the iPad, flipping through one picture after another as he thought about his discussion with Dylan.
He reached a photo of Natasha and paused. The sunlight shimmered on her glossy hair and an almost amused smile touched her lips. She was looking at one of the statuettes she hated, and he thought she was holding back a laugh.
God, she was incredible. He’d seen that in her even when he’d been pissed that she might have been involved in the drug trafficking.
He traced his finger over Natasha’s features before holding the iPad in both hands and studying her photograph. He couldn’t get enough of her.
How did this happen? How had he fallen for her so damned hard?
He knew why. It was everything about her from her laugh to the way she made love to him with everything she had. Even something as simple as the way she drank coffee was sexy. She was genuine, intelligent, strong and caring. Before everything had gone wrong, she’d been vibrantly alive with her view of the future.
No doubt about it, he was a goner. He was in love with Natasha and he would never let her go.
~~*~~
Steam fogged the bathroom mirror and Natasha didn’t bother to wipe off the moisture. She ran a brush through her tangled, clean hair.
Brooks had all but said he’d loved her when he’d asked if she believed in love at first sight. Or had it just been an offhand question? It sure hadn’t seemed like it at the time.
A feeling like warm water filled her to the brim. She didn’t know if this was love, but she’d never felt this way before. Maybe it was love and she just wouldn’t or couldn’t admit it?
If it was, shouldn’t she embrace it? She clenched the brush in her hand. If she did she might slip somehow and put him in danger just by loving him.
“That’s your paranoia speaking.” She braced her hands on the sink as she stared at the mirror that was growing less foggy. “You’ve always embraced life with joy. Why not this, too?”
Because I’m afraid, went through her mind. I love him, and I’m afraid.
She almost snapped at herself, but kept her voice to a whisper. “Get over it. Love doesn’t come every day, you know.”
For a moment she shut her eyes, waiting for her fears to subside and her strength to replace it. Brooks had said she was one of the strongest women he’d ever known. She was strong. She wasn’t a wilting flower, and she could handle anything that came her way. She would tell Brooks she loved him. If he rejected her, fine. At least she’d know.
Why not now? She straightened and took a deep breath. Before she could change her mind, she walked out of the bathroom.
I love you, Brooks, went through her mind. I love you.
He sat on the edge of the bed. He looked so good he nearly took her breath away. The strong line of his jaw, his morning stubble, and his tousled hair were endearing to her heart. His broad shoulders and excellent physique—bonus.
He stared at his iPad intently, and she wondered what could have captured his attention so fully. Her bare feet sank into the carpet as she approached him.
Chills rolled over her skin and she came to a stop. He was looking at a black and white photograph of her. The photo had been taken months ago, long before she’d met Brooks during WESA in Denver.
She remembered the day clearly. Mark wasn’t in the photograph, but he’d been near her. She’d been standing outside her shop, holding one of the statuettes that he’d brought with him to her to sell her on the idea of taking them with her to her first tradeshow. She had been staring at it, trying not to laugh because the statuette was so ugly. He’d made her an offer she couldn’t refuse at the time. If the items sold, she’d make a good profit. Of course now she knew the reason he’d been so certain.
But who had taken the photograph? And why was it only of her with no one else in it with her?
And why would Brooks have that particular photo of her? The question caused her head to throb. What reason could he possibly have?
Just like it had come to her when she’d realized the white powdery substance in the statuette had been cocaine, she knew where these photos had come from. Even though her law enforcement background was limited, it wasn’t hard to figure this one out. That was a surveillance photo. Federal agents had been watching her.
Brooks had been watching her.
Even as the thought came to her, she mentally shook her head. That was one hell of a leap to make. Her intuition was usually right on, but she had to be wrong about this.
But why did he have the photo of her from that day?
A pounding started in her head and her throat grew dry. She felt so mentally exhausted from the constant pressure and stress she’d been under since she first dropped that damned statue.
Her mind and body felt stretched thin, tight enough that she might snap at the slightest thing, he tiniest thing—or something as massive as betrayal.
And being used.
She flexed her hands, squeezing them tight into fists then unclenching them before tightening them again. “Why do you have a surveillance photo of me?”
He jerked his head up, surprise and guilt in his expression. He got to his feet. “I can explain.”
“You can explain?” She stared at him in disbelief as he used words that, as far as she was concerned, implied guilt.
Everything was clear now by the look on his face. “I meant to tell you. I know it was wrong, but I never could find he right time.”
“You’ve been using me.” She found it hard to speak and she looked down at the picture. “You had to get close to me.” She said it as a statement, not a question when she looked up at him.
He didn’t deny it. “Please let me explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” She pointed at the door to the bedroom. “I want you out of my house. Just be careful that you’re not seen so you don’t get everyone killed.”
“Natasha.” He took a step toward her and she took a step back. “I’ll tell you—”
“No.” She shook her head, her face flaming hot. “If there wasn’t a chance I’d be heard, I wouldn’t be this quiet.” He opened his mouth to speak and she pointed toward the door again. “Get the hell out.”
She turned and walked into the bathroom, and slammed the door hard before locking it.
Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks but somehow she held them back.
She’d gone cold without realizing it until this moment. Despite the warmth of the steamy bathroom, her whole body shook with the chill and her teeth chattered.
A knock at the bathroom door caused her to jump as the sound reverberated through her.
“Natasha.” Although muffled through the door Brooks tone was even and somehow calming.
She had no desire to be calmed. “I told you to get out. Don’t fight me on this.”
His words were low but vibrated through her. “I should have told you before now.”
Heat flared through her, replacing the cold. She grasped the doorknob and jerked the door open. It slammed against the shower’s glass wall. “Yeah, you damned sure should have. You’ve been fucking me to get information because you thought or think that I’m gu
ilty in this whole damned mess.”
The word “fucking” sounded harsh as she flung it out between them, but it was accurate. That’s what he’d been doing, fucking her.
“Dammit, Natasha.” He put his hand on her bare arm. “Listen to me.”
“Fuck you.” She yanked her arm away from his touch. “I don’t want to talk to you now. Not ever.”
He gave her a long look that she couldn’t read.
“Get out.” She barely kept from screaming the words.
He blew out his breath and turned away. She watched as he pulled on his discarded jeans. “I’m sorry. I—”
She slammed the door shut again and knew next time she opened the door he would be gone.
~~*~~
Brooks stared at the closed bathroom door. He wanted to tear the damn thing off its hinges and force her to listen to him. It was clear she wasn’t ready to hear a thing he said. He’d have to let her cool off and then he would make her listen.
He’d fucked up and good. He should have told her sooner, but he hadn’t known how to do it. While they were in L.A., he’d started to tell her more than once, but it had never seemed like the right time.
How did a man tell a woman he’d fallen in love with that she’d been his assignment?
He scooped up his T-shirt and tugged it over his head before he grabbed his shoulder holster, slipped it on, and fastened it. He slid his belt through the loops on his jeans, then picked his phone up off the nightstand and shoved it into the holster on the belt.
After he finished dressing, he settled his Stetson on his head, strode from the bedroom to the back door, and let himself out.
The air cooled his skin the moment he stepped onto the landing of the wood stairs leading down to the ground. It was cold this morning, or maybe it was because he’d lost Natasha’s warmth.
Chills rolled down his arms and his gut twisted. A sense of unease came over him as if something bad was about to happen. He rolled his shoulders, trying to get rid of the feeling.
It was probably due to leaving Natasha on such a bad note before he and the team Sofia had put together went to Okle’s home and warehouse with the search warrant. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shrug off the sensations.
