Outside the Wire

by Holly Copella

  “Jesus,” Mac groaned softly while staring at her. “I was right about that? I have sources. I heard things after what happened with Holden and Ross. I didn’t hear any names being thrown around, but whoever’s after you has people working for him that know you and your team.” She fidgeted slightly. “Zack’s a ghost. No one even knows he exists since the last time he was reported dead. He’s not on the same list as the rest of you. That’s when a horrible thought crossed my mind. I feared his warped mind put him on your trail to collect the bounties on your heads.”

  “He shot Monroe twice in the chest,” Jackie informed her. “He tried to kill him. It was only blind luck that Monroe was wearing a vest.” She studied Mac a moment. “He could have taken me out, but he didn’t. He took me down with a tranquilizer dart and stuffed me in a bag. Do you have any idea why?”

  Mac snorted a sort laugh and smirked. “It’s no secret, Jackie. Zack would love to have you for himself. He probably intended to stash you away someplace for his own perverse pleasure.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Doesn’t matter what you believe,” Mac remarked while cleverly raising her brows. “You just said he put two bullets into Monroe’s chest.” She leaned against the plane and groaned. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you. I’ll help you where I can, but I need to stop Zack. I saved his sorry ass, so that makes me responsible for stopping his sorry ass.” She again ran her fingers through her hair and appeared on edge. “It’s light enough now. I need to find his tracks and figure out which way he went.” She then hesitated and eyed Jackie. “If you happen to have something to eat, I’d be grateful.”

  Jackie felt her pockets and removed a granola bar. She tossed it to her.

  Mac groaned softly and tore the wrapping from it. “You’re a lifesaver,” she announced then bit into the bar. “Watch your ass, okay?”

  “You too,” Jackie replied.

  †

  Jackie’s plane no sooner landed in the field when Monroe appeared from the nearby woods. She wasn’t exactly thrilled by the greeting she knew she was about to receive, but she’d have to stand her ground and resort to name-calling if it came down to it. Once the plane stopped close to the woods, Jackie opened the side door and casually walked down the steps where Monroe leaned against the railing at the bottom. He had his arms folded across his chest and a disapproving look on his face.

  “I know what you’re going to say, so save it,” she immediately launched before he had a chance to speak.

  As she walked past him, he hurried after her. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I’ll be honest, I hadn’t given it much thought,” she casually replied.

  Monroe attempted to keep up with her fast pace and long strides. “Jackie, are you insane? People are trying to kill us. Zack is trying to kill us,” he lashed out. “How could you go back there knowing you were possibly walking into a trap?”

  She suddenly turned to face him with a wild look in her eyes. “Because, Monroe, it’s Zack. I had to get answers. There had to be some explanation.”

  “And what did you find?” he demanded. “Nothing?”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” she replied and showed him the picture. “I found this wedged in the passenger seat of ‘Old Marge’. Does it mean anything to you?”

  Monroe glanced at the picture. “That was taken on shore leave many years ago,” he replied. “We all have copies of this.” He then considered. “Ours all have the safe combination written on the bomb though.”

  “Yes, I know,” she replied. “I’ve seen the one in my father’s office, but does it mean anything?”

  “Yeah, Zack liked to personalize gifts that went boom,” Monroe remarked. “It was his idea of a joke. This is nothing more than a joke.”

  “Why would he leave it there?”

  “What makes you think he did?”

  “Because of what he said to me,” she remarked. “He told me to check out that plane. I did and found this.”

  “You’re trying to rationalize the thinking of a man who shot you with a tranquilizer dart,” Monroe snarled with annoyance and glared at her. “You remember? The nice man who shot me twice in the chest.”

  “You said you always wear a vest after an attempt on your life,” she remarked while studying him. “You expected me to know that. Is it possible he knew that too?”

  “Are you suggesting he shot me with anticipation that I was wearing a vest?” he demanded. “If his intent wasn’t to kill me, he took a big risk assuming I was wearing.” Monroe inhaled deeply, attempting to regain his composure, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Zack’s been my friend and teammate a long time, Jackie. I love the guy, but if you insist on making excuses for what he did, you could end up dead.”

  “I ran into Mac,” she informed him.

  Monroe’s expression dropped as he stared at her. “Mac? The woman posing as a U.S. Marshal who attacked me while we were protecting Lee? The same woman who tried to kill Zack and make off with Sal’s millions?”

  “She also saved Sal’s life this past Saturday and helped us last night,” Jackie reminded him. “She was on Giovanni’s island. She saw the helicopter crash and pulled Zack to safety. Men were coming after him. She saved his life.”

  “Then what happened?” Monroe asked as he folded his arms across his chest and glared at her. “Did he turn on her?”

  Jackie frowned. “Well, yeah.”

  “I rest my case.”

  “She’s trying to stop him,” Jackie insisted. “She wants to bring him back. Something happened. She said he disappeared then returned different.”

  “Yeah, too many shots to the head,” Monroe remarked then gestured wildly. “He’s gone down the crazy path. Whatever happened, Zack can’t be trusted. You need to avoid him, Jackie. You’ve lost whatever hold you’ve had on him. Maybe he only wants to play with you, but he wants to kill the rest of us.” He defiantly shook his head. “Don’t underestimate his devious mind. You can’t trust him.”

  “I don’t trust him,” she insisted, “but I know I can bring him back.”

  “You are so damned stubborn,” Monroe exploded then pointed a warning finger at her. “Stay the hell away from him and don’t let him sucker you into playing any games with him. I’m warning you, Jackie. If I see him within twenty feet of you, I’m putting him down myself. I won’t risk him hurting you.”

  Jackie frowned but for once had no return response. Monroe cared about her and only wanted to protect her. She knew that.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The train from Chicago to Washington, D.C. was already underway that morning to its destination. It would be a long, eighteen-hour journey followed by another two-hour layover in Washington before making the connecting train to Virginia. An attractive, middle-aged woman made her way along the corridor for her sleeper cabin after breakfast in the dining car. Considering the expensive dress she wore and her designer shoes, she was obviously a woman of substantial wealth. Her make-up was flawless, and she didn’t have an auburn hair out of place. She opened the door to her compartment and paused just inside to see Bogart sitting in the front facing seat by the window watching the countryside go past. She stared at him a moment with surprise.

  “Who the hell are you?” she suddenly demanded, placing her dainty hands on her hips.

  Bogart looked at her and appeared equally surprised. “I’m Brian,” he replied then gave her an approving once over and grinned. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Melissa, and this is my cabin,” she informed him, matter-of-fact.

  He cocked his head and smiled almost boyishly. “I don’t think so,” Bogart replied playing up his Southern accent. “I’m in cabin 12B.”

  “This is cabin 12A,” she remarked.

  Bogart stared at her a moment with a dumbfounded expression. “It is?” He cocked his head slightly and gave her a playful look. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, now get out.”

  “
Well, ain’t that just my luck,” he replied while maintaining his charming, country boy smile. “The first beautiful woman I meet after crossing half the country and she’s already mad at me.”

  †

  Later that afternoon, Melissa snuggled against Bogart where they lay naked beneath the rumpled sheets of her sofa now converted into a bed. Melissa was pleasantly exhausted while Bogart stared at the ceiling with mild disgust at himself and mentally shook his head. She lifted her head and met his gaze. He was again smiling with all his country boy charm.

  “I have a wonderful idea,” she announced. “Why don’t we dine in my car this afternoon and spend the entire day in bed together?”

  “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all week,” he announced cheerfully.

  She resumed nuzzling him. Bogart again looked at the ceiling and withheld his groan. The conman had successfully slept his way across the country in a desperate attempt to reach Virginia undetected. He was almost certain he’d seen two men multiple times now, possibly looking for him. He had to avoid the common areas at all costs and his visits to the dining car were brief to avoid anyone seeing him. He’d spent most of his travel time in the sleeper cars of several different women over the past twenty-four hours. He managed to sneak a look at the travel reservations and memorized which sleeper cars had middle-aged, solo female travelers. He sought women older than himself since they seemed to respond faster to his country boy charm. It was tough to admit that his sex drive was dwindling and he still had another ten hours on the D.C. train, followed by a two-hour layover, and then another two hours on the Virginia train. He’d spent a lot of time in bed, but what he really wanted was a little sleep.

  “Why don’t I grab a quick shower and then get us something to eat from the dining car?” he asked.

  “Sounds perfect,” she cooed.

  Bogart kissed her warmly and grinned. “I’ll be right back,” he announced in his sexiest voice.

  As he slipped out of bed, she attempted to run her hands along his naked body, but he was too quick for her. Bogart headed into the little closet, which contained a toilet and a shower in the same small cubicle. He stopped counting how many showers he’d taken in the last twenty-four hours. The wealthier the woman was, the stronger her perfume. Despite his previous fondness for expensive perfume, the overpowering scents were now enough to make him nauseous. All things being equal, he found himself longing for the company of his horse.

  †

  An hour later, Bogart, now dressed in a waiter’s jacket, entered the kitchen and collected two covered plates of food conveniently sitting on the counter awaiting their server. He eyed the order slip then left the kitchen with the tray containing both plates. He headed straight through the dining car, not wanting to spend any more time than necessary in the common areas. As he passed, he cast a suspicious look at the two men he’d seen on the train from Colorado to Chicago. He managed to tilt his head in such a manner to conceal his face as he passed the men. Both men seemed interested in checking out other passengers more than employees. Perhaps they were looking for a certain charming country boy. Bogart slipped out of the dining car with his tray and headed up the stairs to the top-level sleeper cars. Only a moment later and stripped of his waiter’s jacket, Bogart entered Melissa’s cabin with their meals. She had already converted the bed back to a table and chairs for their meal. He grinned boyishly and suavely set her plate on the table in front of her.

  “Your dinner, my lady,” he announced and removed the lid from the plate.

  “That was fast,” she announced as he sat down with his plate and joined her.

  “I know how to get my way,” he teased while offering a boyish grin.

  She laughed while studying his handsome features. “I’ll bet you do.”

  †

  It was nearly eight o’clock that night, and Bogart needed to secure his overnight accommodations with his new lady friend. In the morning, he’d only have the layover and the short two-hour ride before he was home free. Despite his lust-o-meter dipping down to less than five percent, he had to sell a night of passion in order to keep his cozy accommodations. His life might literally depend upon it. Bogart sought Melissa’s leg and affectionately caressed it while pressing against her side.

  “Why don’t I see about locating an expensive bottle of wine and perhaps a little caviar? Then we can see where this night takes us from there,” he announced in his most charming Southern drawl even if he wanted to gag on his own words. Or perhaps it was just her perfume.

  She gently ran her hand along his chest and moaned softly at the suggestion. “How can I refuse that?”

  He kissed her quickly on the lips and grinned. “Give me twenty minutes.”

  “I’ll slip into something more revealing,” she teased while seductively leaning back.

  Bogart left the room, his smile immediately fading as he shut the door behind him. “I need to find an old man and borrow some little blue pills,” he muttered aloud to himself.

  As he walked along the corridor, the cabin door next to Melissa’s compartment opened. An attractive woman in her mid-twenties stood in the doorway and seemingly glared at him. Her disapproving look was a bit surprising to him. Was she some religious fanatic who overheard their earlier escapades?

  “If you’re looking for a cougar sugar momma, you should give up now,” the young woman remarked. “My step-aunt goes through dozens of pretty boys like you.”

  Bogart had to hide his knowing smile. He couldn’t exactly tell her he wasn’t interested in her step-aunt’s money, just the security of her cabin for an overnight.

  “I think we’re both getting what we want out of this deal,” Bogart casually replied.

  “My step-aunt is a wretched woman,” she continued without prompting. “Aside from her money, what would a handsome conman such as yourself possibly want from her?”

  He seemed surprised by the conman assumption. Perhaps she’d met a few in her time, having traveled extensively with her step-aunt. The sassy, attractive woman was almost enough to boost his sex drive back into action.

  “She doesn’t seem wretched to me,” he remarked while grinning.

  “That’s because she’s not finished with you yet,” the young woman remarked. “Judging by what I heard coming from her cabin half the afternoon, your charm and good looks aside, I can’t imagine why she hasn’t tossed you to the curb yet. She enjoys an eager young man for a one-time fling; maybe even a repeat performance, but third time’s a charm? Not her style.” Her look turned more commanding. “Letting you spend the night?” She shook her head. “She’s definitely up to something.”

  Bogart suddenly felt his body twitch at the comment. Something felt suspiciously wrong. Did Melissa have her own agenda as well? He appeared moderately flustered now, but he couldn’t be distracted from his plans.

  “I don’t have time for this,” he remarked with moderate irritation. “I have an incredible night of passion ahead of me.” He then glared at her as his eyes narrowed. “And no listening against the wall.”

  He attempted to walk past her.

  “Just fair warning,” she suddenly announced, forcing him to look back.

  “What’s that?” he snapped with irritation, tired of entertaining the young woman.

  “If you’re someone of any importance, she’ll probably use it against you,” the young woman remarked. “My step-aunt has been known to blackmail men.” She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a daring look. “Among other things.”

  Bogart suddenly appeared curious and questioned the comment, although he hadn’t intended to respond to the young woman’s remarks. “Blackmail?” he asked, taking a greater interest. “Would you say your aunt has her fingers in other shady dealings as well?”

  “I have little respect for the woman,” she announced. “If she can profit from the blood and sweat of others, she’ll do it. If you have anything to hide, you should probably run away as fast as you can.”

  He st
raightened proudly. “No, I don’t have anything to hide,” Bogart easily lied. “I also don’t have anything worth taking.” He raised a cocky brow. “So if you’ll excuse me--”

  As he turned, he heard the familiar voices of the two men from the dining car in the stairwell. Bogart’s excessively confident expression suddenly dropped. The young woman looked toward the stairs.

  “My step-aunt’s entourage,” she informed him then noted his look. “Something wrong?”

  “No,” he replied while attempting to sound confident. “I just remembered I needed something from the porter.”

  He turned away from the stairs to avoid the men about to appear from them. The young woman casually stepped away from her open sleeper car door and raised her brows. Bogart took his cue and darted into her car. She entered behind him then shut and locked the door.

  Bogart spun around to face the young woman within her cabin then fidgeted. “You knew, didn’t you?”

  “I suspected you were both playing each other,” she replied softly so the men in the corridor wouldn’t hear them. “Are you wanted by the law or something worse?”

  “The law and I get along fine,” he informed her. “It’s some unknown party who wants me dead.”

  “Dead is pretty serious,” she replied.

  They could hear a knock on her aunt’s door. Both remained silent and listened.

  “He’ll be back,” Melissa reported, although hers were the only words either heard.

  “Yeah, you’re screwed,” the young woman informed him. “But if you think it’ll piss off my aunt, you can stay here until we reach D.C.”

  “I appreciate that,” he remarked then eyed her. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Riley,” she replied and offered a pleasant smile. “Riley Pendleton. You’re Brian, right? Is that your real name or just what you’re calling yourself?”

  “I’ve worn out a lot of names,” he informed her. “You can call me Bogart.”

  She suddenly appeared interested. “I’ve heard that name a lot recently,” Riley reported. “My aunt knows some really rotten apples. They could be the guys trying to kill you.”