Only Obsession (Rogue Security Book 3)

by Marissa Garner

  She drew a shuddering breath. “And…I feel like nothing’s normal. I don’t have control over anything. I-I’m paranoid that my kidnapper is going to suddenly reappear and grab me again.”

  He continued to nod. “Understandable. And?”

  Her expression hardened. “And…I want to…get the guy who made me feel this way.”

  Dr. Ashton smiled. “Very good.”

  Now it was her turn to be disbelieving. “Good? How can any of that be good?”

  “Because those are all normal, healthy emotional responses to what you’ve been through. On the other hand, if you’d told me that you wanted to have milk and cookies with the jerk, I’d be concerned.”

  “Don’t worry, Doc. I have no desire to sing Kumbaya with the bastard.”

  Luke chuckled behind his hand.

  “Well then, if you promise to see your own doctor as soon as possible, I have no problem discharging you to travel back to Washington with your fiancé,” Dr. Ashton said.

  “I promise I’ll make an appointment as soon as I get home,” Elle said earnestly.

  “Fine. Your doctor can contact me with any questions. I’ll sign the paperwork so you can leave when you’re ready.”

  Luke straightened away from the wall. What the hell? Now she was willing to leave with her ex? His jaw clenched, but he said nothing until after the doctor had closed the door as he left. Then Luke picked up the plastic bag of his sister’s clothes from beside the chair. “I guess you won’t be needing these. I’m sure Carmichael will buy you some expensive designer outfit for your trip home. Best to look nice for the paparazzi and when flying first class.” He marched toward the door.

  “What? Wait,” Elle exclaimed. She pushed away the sheet and swung her legs off the bed. “Where are you going?”

  “Home. Where I should’ve stayed earlier.”

  “Why?”

  He stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. “Because I’ve been up all night. Besides, I’m sure your fiancé will be here any minute to gloat, and I don’t want to risk an assault charge for punching his lights out.”

  Elle stiffened. “That’s ex-fiancé, and I’m not leaving with Richard.”

  “You told the doctor—”

  “I’d make an appointment when I got home…which will be after I’ve helped catch my kidnapper…here.” She grinned. “Give me those clothes so we can escape before Richard shows up again. I don’t have any way to bail you out of jail if you get arrested.”

  He turned around slowly, assessed her sincerity, and then tossed her the bag. She dumped the contents on the bed and held up a Padres baseball cap with a questioning look.

  “Last night, you didn’t want to be recognized so…” His explanation trailed off.

  With a big smile, she plopped it on her head and pulled the bill down low. “Good idea. Just in case there’s a curious reporter nosing around.”

  “It’s worse, much worse. When I arrived this morning, the parking lot was full of news vans.”

  “Oh, hell. My mother’s handiwork for sure.”

  “At least hospital security is keeping the reporters and cameras cordoned off in the lobby.”

  “I should apologize to Dr. Ashton and the entire hospital for causing such a disruption.”

  “You don’t have time. Besides, I don’t think anyone blames you. Now let’s get you out of here.” Luke’s pulse quickened at the prospect of helping her escape. “In the hallway, turn right to get to the elevators at the back of the hospital. On the first floor, find the rear exit and wait there until I pull up with a black Ram.”

  She blinked, confused. “A ram?”

  He rolled his eyes. “A Dodge Ram. A big-ass truck. I’ll find Carmichael and do the apology thing to buy you time. Then he’ll see me leave—alone. I probably can’t stall him for more than ten minutes, if he’ll even lower himself to talk to me at all.”

  “I can be out back in eight. Shoo.”

  As planned, Luke whipped the Ram around the corner at the back of the hospital and stopped at the curb. Wearing jeans, a pink T-shirt, a navy hoodie, and the Padres cap, Elle limped to the truck and leveraged herself up into the cab.

  “What’s up with the cowboy hat?” she asked. “Are you hiding your identity, too?”

  Frowning, he adjusted the brim. “Nope. It’s what I wear when I’m off duty.”

  She cocked her head. “I like it. You look like a badass cowboy rescuing the damsel in distress.” She held up her hand, and they high-fived.

  He laughed and got them the hell out of there.

  * * *

  Closing her eyes, Elle slumped back against the seat and pulled the Padres cap down over her face. Dressing and escaping had exhausted her.

  “The closest big hotels are in Mission Valley, about twenty minutes from here. If you want a five-star, I’ll have to take you to downtown San Diego, La Jolla, or Coronado. Where do you want to go?” Luke asked.

  Too tired to even open her eyes, she could barely make her brain function. “Richard takes great pride in being able to bribe any concierge. He’ll find me if I’m at a major hotel.”

  “I can check you in with my credit card, so you’ll be registered under my name.”

  “He knows your name.”

  “Since I’m way below his radar, I doubt if he’d remember,” Luke said.

  “Agent Holmes would.”

  “Damn. You’re right. Any ideas?”

  She hesitated. “Your place?”

  Luke was silent for so long that she pushed up the hat and opened her eyes. He continued to peer straight ahead, his expression grim and his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have invited myself. I know nothing about…your living arrangements. You know, roommates, girlfriends… A hotel will be fine, the smaller the better. It just needs to be safe enough that…that…” Fear resurfaced, tightening her throat and preventing her from finishing the sentence.

  “My ‘living arrangements’ aren’t the problem with your idea. Don’t you think your ex might look for you at my place? Sure, I keep personal information like my address real private, but the FBI can still get it easy.”

  “Well, then I guess I’m off to a small hotel.”

  He pulled into a strip-mall parking lot and stopped. “Do you know how to shoot?”

  Her eyes widened. “A gun?”

  Luke started to laugh but did his best to hide it behind a cough. “Yeah, a pistol.”

  “I took a lesson once, but I’m not any good. Why in the world does it matter?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “My sister works at a hair salon, but I have a key to her apartment. I helped her buy a pistol…after a recent incident. If you’re okay with being at her place, alone but armed, I can drop you off there. Then I’ll wait at my place until Holmes and Carmichael show up looking for you—and I guarantee they will. Afterward, you can decide where you want to go.”

  She couldn’t deny the queasiness in her stomach, but his plan made sense. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  The road signs indicated they were driving toward Ramona. How close were they to where she’d escaped last night? The thought prompted a surge of awful memories, which she forced herself to ignore and to concentrate instead on the ride.

  Luke checked the truck’s mirrors constantly. He would speed up for a few minutes and then suddenly turn onto a side street. After watching the passing traffic, he’d return to the main road and repeat the maneuver. Twice he did a U-turn and backtracked a short distance before heading once more toward Ramona. He never explained the strange behavior, but she surmised he was making sure they weren’t being followed…by anyone.

  Thirty minutes later, they arrived at a small apartment complex. She shielded her face with the Padres hat as Luke ushered her along the sidewalk and into his sister’s place.

  “It’s nothing fancy, but Karla keeps it real clean. And I’m sure there’s food if you’re hungry,” Luke said. He used a t
iny key on his keychain to unlock a desk in the living room. “Careful. It’s loaded,” he said, withdrawing a small pistol and handing it to her.

  She gulped as her hand gripped the deadly weapon. Her one lesson hadn’t reduced her fear of guns, but the idea of getting kidnapped again was worse.

  “Here’s something else you might need.” He pulled a cell phone from the same desk drawer. “Karla and I keep prepaid, burner phones as backup just in case…whatever. If you need to call me, my number’s already on there.”

  “Okay.” The realization that he was actually going to leave her alone squeezed her chest, making it hard to breathe.

  He must’ve sensed her growing panic. “You gonna be okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” she lied.

  He studied her a few moments longer. “I gotta run. I need to be home before your ex and his sidekick get there.”

  Staring at the gun in her hand, she only nodded.

  He took a step toward the door but stopped. “No one has any idea you’re here. And even Holmes would have to dig hard to find out that I have a sister and her address. The Sheriff’s Department won’t tell him. But Holmes and Carmichael will definitely track down my place as your most likely hideout.” He smiled reassuringly. “You’re gonna be okay, Elle. I wouldn’t leave you here if I didn’t believe that.”

  Although she’d known Luke Johnson for less than a day, she knew he was telling the truth. Instant trust wasn’t natural for her, but it was what she felt. “I know. I’ll be fine. Go.”

  He nodded. “I’ll call before I come back to get you. Lock the deadbolt,” were his last words before he was gone.

  She hurried to the door and did as instructed. Then she turned and surveyed the living room. The furnishings were simple and inexpensive, but the apartment radiated a homey warmth. She hoped it would melt the icicle of fear raising goose bumps on her arms.

  She chose the armchair facing the front door and sat down. After laying the gun and phone on the end table, she drew a deep breath and leaned back to wait.

  Chapter 5

  Luke sped out of town on the country road toward his home. Usually the drive relaxed him, but not today. He didn’t know exactly how much time he had, but there was none to spare.

  When he turned off the paved road onto the long stretch of his dirt driveway, he exhaled with relief. No other vehicles were on his property.

  After parking his truck on the far side of the house so he would have a clearer view of approaching vehicles, he sprinted to the back door. He left his boots and hat in the mudroom and stripped off his clothes as he moved down the hallway to the room he used as his bedroom.

  Three bedrooms were located upstairs, but he hadn’t had the time nor money to begin renovations on the second floor. He had purchased the run-down property at an estate auction about a year ago with big plans to redo the entire house. He’d way underestimated the scope of the work necessary to make the huge house livable. But since he was the only resident, the remodeled areas on the first floor provided adequate space.

  Naked except for his boxer briefs, he dumped his clothes on a chair in the bedroom. Then he dropped onto the bed, tousled his hair, and let out a real yawn. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until he hit the mattress.

  His cell phone broke the silence with the ring designated as the Ramona Sheriff’s station. Luke jumped up and dug the cell out of his pants pocket.

  “Hey, man, this is Clancy. Thought you’d want to know that a couple of douche bags are here looking for you. They’re royally pissed. One of them was shouting about suing you or having you arrested. They’re in with the boss now. Do you need help?”

  Luke grinned. “Nah. I know who they are. I’m ready for them, but I sure appreciate the heads-up.”

  “No problem. We’re here if you need us.”

  “Thanks, Clancy.” He disconnected and returned to bed.

  His boss wouldn’t give out his home address, but Holmes could call the San Diego FBI office and have Luke’s address tracked down in a nanosecond. He had maybe twenty minutes before showtime.

  It was actually only fifteen minutes later when a vehicle roared down his driveway. He rumpled his hair again and waited. But not for long.

  Someone repeatedly rang the bell at the front door at the same time someone else banged on the back door. He let them sweat for a full minute before getting up and ambling down the hall to the foyer. The peephole revealed a really annoyed FBI agent.

  Staging a jaw-locking yawn, Luke opened the front door. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Special Agent Holmes, but I was in bed. What’s up?” Slouching against the doorjamb, he yawned again and scratched his scalp.

  Holmes took note of Luke’s appearance and shook his head. “Sorry to disturb you, Deputy Johnson, but we’re looking for—”

  “Where the hell is she?” Carmichael yelled, running around the corner of the house.

  Holmes exhaled. “Well, she could be going out the back door right now, Mr. Carmichael. I told you to watch that exit.”

  Luke frowned and straightened. “She? You mean Ms. Bradley? What’s happened?”

  After a disgusted look at Luke’s nearly naked body, Carmichael shoved him in the chest and tried to push past him into the house. “You took her. That’s what happened.”

  Luke grabbed the man’s wrists and twisted his arms around to his back. Carmichael yelped in pain. “Where are your manners, Rich Boy? I didn’t invite you in.”

  “See? He’s hiding her,” Carmichael screeched to Holmes. “I told you we needed a search warrant.”

  Still holding Elle’s ex immobilized, Luke turned to the agent, who wore an amused expression. “Would you like to search the premises, Special Agent Holmes?”

  “Yes, thank you, Deputy Johnson. We’d…I’d appreciate your cooperation.”

  “No problem. C’mon in.”

  Holmes squeezed past the other two men and stopped in the middle of the foyer. His head swiveled, his keen gaze taking in the surroundings.

  “I’m renovating the house, so watch your step and be careful of the construction materials and tools. Lots of sharp stuff.” Luke gave Carmichael a little push toward the agent. “And keep an eye on this one. I don’t trust him.”

  Holmes nodded. “How long have you been home, Deputy Johnson?” He stepped into the living room, casually strolled around the cluttered space, and checked behind the sparse furniture.

  Luke scratched his head again. He had to be careful about what he said to the FBI agent. Lying would get him in big trouble. “Not exactly sure. What time is it? I went to bed as soon as I got home.”

  “Did you come home alone?”

  “Sure did. Are you gonna tell me what happened to Ms. Bradley?”

  Carmichael scowled at him. “You took her.”

  “She wasn’t in her hospital room when we went to get her after speaking with you. Where did you go?” Holmes asked.

  “I immediately left the hospital through the front lobby—alone. Lots of witnesses, if you want to verify my alibi. Then I drove off in my truck. I’d been up all night, and I was dead tired. Still am.” He glanced down at his underwear. “Guess I should put on some pants. You guys can look wherever you want. Upstairs is a disaster, though, so be careful.” He took a step toward the hall.

  Carmichael moved sideways and peered past him. “I see a closed door. The jerk must be hiding her in that room,” he shouted and dashed into the hallway.

  Shaking his head, the agent hurried to catch up with him.

  Luke gave them a few minutes and then followed. He propped his shoulder against the bedroom door and watched Elle’s ex paw through his clothes in the closet. Resentment burned in his gut.

  Holmes stood with his arms folded across his chest. “She’s not in here, Mr. Carmichael, and I don’t see any evidence that she ever was. Let’s search the rest of the house and leave, so this man can get back to bed.”

  After pulling on his jeans, Luke joined the agent as he strolled down t
he hall to the kitchen. “Do you think the kidnapper got her?”

  Holmes answered with a disbelieving look. “No. But I don’t blame the woman for running away either.”

  “You think that’s what she did?”

  Holmes angled a glance over his shoulder at Carmichael, who was several steps behind them. “Wouldn’t you?”

  Luke chuckled. “Absolutely.”

  When they reached the kitchen, Holmes peeked into the broom closet and the walk-in pantry before leaning casually against the kitchen table.

  Carmichael made a big show of opening every cabinet even if only a toddler or a contortionist could have fit inside. After scrutinizing every nook and cranny, he stood at the window, hands on hips, obviously disappointed in the results. “Is that nasty-looking building on your property?” he asked, pointing at a wooden structure about a hundred yards behind the house.

  “Yeah. It’s called a barn, Rich Boy.”

  “That’s where he’s hidden her,” he said, yanking open the back door and darting outside.

  “Watch out for rats,” Luke called after him. When Holmes didn’t follow, he asked, “Aren’t you going with him?”

  The unsmiling agent gave him a no-nonsense stare. “Is Ms. Bradley in the barn?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because I hate rats. Four- and two-legged ones.”

  “Damn. Me, too.”

  “The longer I’m with him…,” Holmes said, jerking his head in the direction Carmichael had gone, “…the more sympathy I have for Ms. Bradley. What can you tell me about her?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know much.”

  “Didn’t you find her and bring her in?”

  “Yeah, but she’s not the talkative type. Do you know why she doesn’t want to go back to Washington? Besides him.” He nodded toward her ex, who hadn’t reached the barn yet.

  “Not really. But I used to work in the Washington field office, and I can tell you it was a bitch trying to keep politicians and muckety-mucks out of our investigations.”

  “Muckety-mucks like the Carmichaels?”

  “Exactly,” Holmes said.

  “Maybe Ms. Bradley thinks the whole investigation—not just the search for the kidnapper—would be more…uh…objective if handled in San Diego.”