“And you’ll show me your thong later?”
A throaty laugh escaped. His thoughts had obviously been otherwise occupied, and he didn’t really hear her reply. So much the better. “Probably not, although I might consider it . . . if you feed me sometime soon.”
“That I can do.”
A few minutes later, Ty pulled into the parking lot of the Crescent City Pancake House and turned off the ignition. Nate jerked awake, his hand on his holster.
Ty glanced over his shoulder, then grinned at Rayna. “Would you look at him? He’s been sleeping like a baby and probably doesn’t remember where he is, much less getting in the car at the crack of dawn.” He swept his gaze over the seat again. “Come on, partner. It’s almost nine, and the lady wants breakfast.” Ty opened his door and stepped from the car.
Nate followed, running a hand through his disheveled hair and grumbling.
Ty’s hand on her back warmed and comforted Rayna as he walked beside her to the restaurant. Inside, the aroma of bacon and eggs warred with grilled burgers and onions and made her stomach sit up and take notice. She was starving again.
Ty chose a booth about halfway back where they could see the car, the parking lot, and the front door. She scooted in first, and Ty slid in next to her with Nate taking the opposite side. A petite, middle-aged waitress brought them coffee and took their orders.
Rayna attacked the sausage, scrambled eggs, and double order of hotcakes the waitress set in front of her, ignoring Nate’s incredulous perusal and Ty’s amused grin. She finished and leaned back to enjoy her coffee, listening to the men’s conversation.
Ty caught her eye. “Last time I saw this guy he was practically a married man. How’s Val?” Ty’s gaze swept back to Nate as he swiveled his coffee cup in a circle on the table.
Nate continued eating without looking up. An uncomfortable silence lengthened before he set his fork down and stared across the table. “Val is doing well. We broke up two years ago. She decided she didn’t want to spend her life with a cop.”
A muscle in Ty’s jaw bunched, and his hand tightened around his cup. “Shit. I’m sorry, Nate.”
“I’m sorry too. That’s so unfair.” An instant of undisguised emotion on Nate’s face made it obvious to Rayna how close they’d been.
“Water under the bridge.” Nate crumpled his napkin and dropped it on the table. His fingers shook a bit when he picked up his coffee cup and took a swallow. “How about you tell me what your plan is to take care of Andre Komarov.”
Ty held his gaze and some sort of unspoken communication passed between them before he nodded and glanced away. “I plan to give Bree another chance to kill Andre and this time I’ll help her.”
“What’s to keep him from killing both of you first?”
“That’s where you come in. I’ll need some backup. Joe will want in on it, too, as soon as he gets Rayna home. He’ll bring as many men as we need—enough for a show of force. I don’t have the whole plan worked out yet, but I will when the time comes.”
“Let me help.” Rayna didn’t realize she’d said the words out loud until she heard them.
Both men stopped talking and regarded her as though she were a wayward child.
“We’ve been through this. I need to know you’re safe, and right now the only way to guarantee that is to let Joe take you home. Do it for me. Okay?”
“Ty, you know I can take care of myself. Don’t treat me like I’m helpless. You’ve never done that before. Why is this time different?” The level of her voice rose steadily.
Nate leaned across the table. “Maybe because Andre’s minions have orders to kill you on sight.”
“What?” She leaned back, an ache growing in her stomach as though she’d been punched.
“Way to go, Nate.” A frown drew Ty’s brows together.
The I’ve-said-too-much look on Nate’s face confirmed it was true and that Ty had tried to keep it from her. She glanced accusingly at him. He watched her, his head cocked slightly to one side.
“Aw, hell. I’m sorry, man.” Nate shoved from the booth and dropped some bills on the table. “Think I’ll get some air.” He strode toward the door without a backward look.
Rayna watched him go, still trying to get it straight in her head what just happened. “You want to tell me what that was about?” She’d trusted Ty. It never occurred to her he’d lie or keep her in the dark. The sense of betrayal that swamped her hurt more than his anger.
“You didn’t need to know right away. After everything you’ve been through the last couple of days, I wanted to give you some time to get back in the game before I told you.”
“You’ve known since last night when Andre called. Haven’t you? Did it occur to you I might react differently to a situation if I have all the information? Is there anything else you’re keeping from me?”
Ty shook his head.
“What gave you the right to make that call?” Rayna tried not to give in to the anger that lingered just below the surface.
He covered her hand where she gripped the edge of the table and spoke quietly. “I care about you. That gives me the right, damn it.” His voice held a vulnerability she’d never heard before.
His words tugged at her heart and made her boiling mad at the same time. The intensity with which he regarded her took the sting out of the harsh reprimand that had been on her tongue. She clenched her fists and seriously considered decking him for a few seconds, then raised one hand and swept her fingers down his cheek. Leaning close, she slid her arm around his neck and looked in his eyes.
“I get it. You want to protect me, and I appreciate that, but it goes both ways, Ty.”
His jaw stiffened the way it always did when her argument hit home. “This is different, Rayna. I won’t let him hurt you again, and the only way to make sure he doesn’t is to remove you from the playing field.”
“So, what you’re saying is, after working together and training together for over a year and completing a dozen missions side by side, you still don’t believe I can do my job.”
“That’s not true.” Ty shook his head. “Be reasonable.”
“Reasonable? What was the first thought you had when you learned Joe called Nate to help us?”
Ty averted his eyes.
“Yeah, that’s right. Joe thought you couldn’t handle it alone. That’s what you thought. Wasn’t it? How did that make you feel, Ty?”
He started to protest, then stopped and shook his head. “Hell, I should know better than to argue with you. I still think I’m right, but if you can win Joe over . . . I’ll learn to live with it.”
“Thanks. You won’t be sorry.” She smiled brightly.
“Nothing has been decided yet.” He scooted out of the booth and threw a few more bills on the table. “Hang out for a minute. I’ll be right back.” He headed for the men’s room.
Outside the window, Nate leaned against the side of the car, his head bowed. Rayna cringed, imagining how angry he must be with himself for dropping that tidbit of information.
She tensed as Nate straightened and glanced toward the back of the building. He jerked his gun from its holster and ran in the direction he’d looked until he disappeared from her line of sight. Rayna’s gaze darted frantically toward the men’s room, but there was no sign of Ty. Every ounce of her training told her to back Nate up. What if Andre’s thugs were out there looking for her? It wouldn’t be fair to let Nate face them alone. She kicked herself for not insisting Ty give her a gun, but an unarmed backup was often better than no backup. She slid from the booth and started toward the door.
Rayna stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the diner. “Nate?” No response. She ran the length of the building, even as the hair at the back of her neck began to tingle.
For the space of a heartbeat, she considered waiting for Ty, but as soon as she rounded the corner, it was too late. Nate lay motionless on the asphalt about fifty feet away in a small parking lot that held half a dozen cars and plenty
of places to hide.
“Nate!” Rayna sprinted toward him and dropped to her knees next to him. Blood ran down his forehead from a jagged cut at his hairline. She took his gun from his hand, then searched for a pulse and exhaled slowly when she found one.
He groaned and flung a hand to his head. “Son of a . . .”
“What happened?” Her gaze darted between the cars, then back to his face.
His intense stare over her shoulder gave her a split second of warning before the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her head. She rolled away and bounded to her feet, the gun leveled at her attacker, Mikhail. In spite of the sling that cradled his left arm, his gun now rested against Nate’s head and he grinned scornfully at her.
“Consider your next move carefully, Miss Dugan. Can you kill me before I pull the trigger, ending your friend’s life? If so, give it your best shot . . . or you can put your gun down and Detective Sanders will live.”
If she could delay long enough, until Ty came looking for them . . .
“Time is of the essence. It’s now . . . or say good-bye to the detective.” Mikhail’s finger flexed around the trigger.
Rayna lowered her gun and set it on the ground in front of her.
“Now, walk over here. Come along without a fight this time, Miss Dugan, and everything will be fine. If not . . . well, we would like Detective Sanders alive to give a message to your friend, Ty, but whether he is in one piece is up to you.” The man moved his handgun so she could see it pointed at Nate’s kneecap.
Rayna walked toward him. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll do whatever you want.” They’d caught up with her. That probably meant she was dead, but if she could get him away from here without hurting Nate or Ty, she’d count it as a win.
Mikhail studied her face with a scowl, then turned back to Nate. “Tell Whitlock we will see him in Portland, and he better have that FBI bitch.”
“Wait. Think it through, man. I know Ty. If you hurt her, you won’t be able to go deep enough. He’ll find you. Take me instead.” Muscled shoulders flexed when Nate spread his arms wide and grinned crookedly as though even he realized how ridiculous the idea was.
Mikhail wound his arm around her waist and jerked her roughly against his side, then slid his hand slowly down her hip. Rayna shuddered and bit her lip to keep from making things worse by ending this guy’s chances of ever having children. If Nate had named the Bobbsey Twins appropriately, the other one was around here somewhere. She couldn’t take a chance on Nate being shot when he jumped in to help her.
“Interesting, but she promises to be more fun.” Mikhail released her waist and put his arm around her shoulders. “Right, baby?”
Nate growled, rolled to his knees, and pushed off the pavement. Quicker than a man his size should have been able to move, he lunged for the Russian.
Mikhail’s gun hand swung in an arc into the side of Nate’s head. The sickening thud of impact made her nauseous, and Nate dropped in a crumpled heap.
“You bastard!” Rayna kicked the side of Mikhail’s knee and heard the snapping of bone. A violent expletive burst from his lips. She swung around, aiming her foot at his head and connected. He dropped to the ground, dazed. She hadn’t heard the large black SUV start up or leave its parking spot until it squealed to a stop beside them. It was too late to run . . . and anyway, she couldn’t leave Nate, so she turned to face the new threat.
Suddenly Mikhail grabbed her from behind. His one arm held both of hers pinned to her sides and he managed to open the SUV’s door with the arm in the sling. Rayna threw her head back into his face, hitting his already broken nose. He howled, and his arm loosened enough for her to land an elbow jab to his gut. He let her go and bent double, but his hand snaked out and caught her wrist as she tried to skirt by him. He straightened, jerked her arm up behind her back mercilessly, and she cried out.
He pushed her toward the open door. “Get in the car, bitch, or I will break your pretty little neck.” He lifted her up on the seat, and she sprawled facedown.
“Easy, Mikhail. Andre wants her alive . . . for now.” The voice from the front seat was familiar. The other man with Andre that night—the second half of the Bobbsey Twins, Boris.
As soon as Mikhail slammed her door, she sat up and tried the handle. Locked, and she couldn’t open it from the inside. Mikhail clambered into the front seat. Rayna’s gaze sought Nate, where he was just beginning to stir again as the man behind the wheel put the vehicle in gear.
Rage and panic fueled her desperation. She reached over the seat for Mikhail and slammed his head against the headrest, then slid her arm around his throat and clamped down tight. Strangled choking noises came from the man as he struggled and clawed at her arm. Nothing made it through the red haze surrounding her until Boris’s gun barrel bumped against her temple.
“Stop or I will shoot you.” His foot on the brake, Boris waited patiently for Rayna to make her decision. His make-my-day expression clearly said he didn’t care which way this went.
Reluctantly, she released her grip and sat back against the seat. Mikhail coughed and choked in the front. When he quieted and looked at her over the seat, the cold hatred in his eyes held her motionless. The blow came lightning fast, caught her in the face, and turned out the lights.
Chapter Nine
* * *
RAYNA WASN’T AT the table when Ty came out of the john. His gaze quickly swept the room searching for her. Damn that woman. Couldn’t she stay in one place for a minute like he asked? Maybe she went to the bathroom, but he’d lay odds that wasn’t the case. There was no trace of her on the sidewalk out front, either, and he drew his gun as soon as he set foot on the concrete.
A black SUV roared out from behind the building, slid sideways to a halt directly across from him, and idled in place. Ty recognized Mikhail and Boris, and fear for Rayna turned his blood to ice. The next instant, Boris hit the gas, and Mikhail flipped Ty off as the vehicle squealed from the parking lot into the street. Was Rayna in that SUV? He prayed she was because the other alternative was too horrible to consider.
He dashed to the edge of the lot and raised his gun, aiming for the rear tire. Damn it! He wanted to take that shot so bad he could taste it—wanted to see the Bobbsey Twins bleeding out on the pavement. Fury at his helplessness blinded him as he lowered his gun, knowing he couldn’t pull the trigger without endangering Rayna.
Where was Nate? Ty had to find him and get back in the hunt. Every second he delayed, Boris and Mikhail got a little farther away . . . and so did Rayna. He whirled to look for his partner and saw his body lying in the back parking area.
“Nate?” Ty sprinted toward him, and just as he reached the big man, Nate rolled over and tried to push to his feet.
“Whoa. Wait a minute. Take it easy. What happened?” Ty knelt beside him, noting the blood that trickled from a cut on his partner’s head and one eye that was nearly swollen shut.
“Those lousy Russians. Damn it, Ty. They took her . . . they took Rayna. Shit! I’m sorry, man. Mikhail got the drop on me. I screwed up.” He dragged himself to a sitting position, then held his head in his hands for a moment. The self-condemnation in Nate’s unfocused eyes loomed like a tangible barrier between them.
Ty knew Nate better than he knew himself. No way would those goons have gotten away with Rayna if there’d been any way to stop them. Still, Ty’s gut clenched painfully. He should have been there. It might have been different if he’d been there for her. He shook his head and forced himself to let it go.
“Cut the crap, Nate. It’s not your fault. Besides, we’re going after them. We’ll find her.” Too bad Ty wasn’t a hundred percent sure of that. There had to be a reason they hadn’t killed her on sight. Andre didn’t usually bluff. Had Ty misunderstood the threat? Rage burned just below the surface, and he set his jaw resolutely. If they hurt her, he would kill them.
“Mikhail said to tell you he’d see you in Portland. He expects you to bring Bree.” Nate pinched the bridge
of his nose and groaned.
“Good. We know where they’re headed, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let them keep Rayna that long. We need a plan, but first we have to catch them. Are you up to it?” Ty stood and offered a hand to help his partner to his feet.
Nate grabbed his arm without hesitation. “Damn right. It’s personal now.” His voice was a feral growl, and determination dimmed the pain reflected in his eyes. He leveraged himself off the ground as he fumbled for his cell phone.
Ty took the wheel and put the pedal to the floor. Nate was a much better high-speed driver than Ty, but his partner could use some time to recuperate from what must be a doozy of a headache. Plus it gave Ty something to do besides tapping out an impatient rhythm on his leg while he scoured the roadway ahead of them. All they knew for sure was Boris and Mikhail were on their way to Portland. They couldn’t say with any certainty that Rayna was still with them, but it was the only shot they had.
Nate had called in some favors from local law enforcement, and the Curry, Josephine, and Jackson County Sheriff’s Departments now covered every paved road in their jurisdictions that crossed over into Oregon. Sooner or later they’d catch a break and someone would spot the black SUV.
Ty took out Mikhail’s phone and punched in Joe’s number, swallowing his pride for Rayna’s sake. Joe had more contacts than Ty or Nate would ever hope to have, and to save her, Ty would take every advantage he could get.
“Yeah,” Joe answered cautiously on the fourth ring, obviously not recognizing the number that flashed on his screen.
“It’s me—Ty. We’ve got a problem. Andre’s goons took Rayna from the diner where we stopped to eat.” Ty squirmed under the guilt that dumped on his shoulders.
“Do you know where they’re headed?”
Joe’s calm voice was exactly what Ty needed, and he drew a steadying breath. “Portland. They want to trade her for Bree. How are you coming on that front?”
“I finally made contact with the right person. I should have a phone number and location for you by tomorrow.” Joe spoke low to someone else in the room with him, then came back on the phone. “Walker is getting the chopper fueled up. We’ll leave within the hour. Keep me posted.”
If You Only Knew Page 10
