by Allie Adams
Spencer stood between the bodies and Gessler, looking back and forth to get the trajectory right. He then lifted his gaze, staring off into the darkness, searching for any trace that whoever did this escaped in that direction. That blood didn't belong to either kidnapper. No, they died instantly. Which meant little Tommy Miller was either an expert marksman at six years old, or the more obvious choice.
Tommy wasn't out here alone.
“Lyons, get the blood to forensics and compare it to the DNA sample Miller gave us on his grandson. Aims, you and Cummings search the area for any prints.” Spencer pulled out his phone. He didn't want to make the call but things had just gone from bad to worse. TREX agents were experts in tracking and tactical retrieval, but they didn't know this terrain and had to move fast. If that blood belonged to the shooter, they could be dealing with someone armed and desperate. If it belonged to Tommy, it could be even worse. They had to get to them before someone bled out.
“Are you calling her?” Gessler asked as he nodded at the phone in Spencer's hand. “Weber gave us two hours. It's been like thirty minutes. Tops.”
He had no choice. “I know.”
“I have a crazy idea,” Snyder broke in, a shit-eating grin on his goddamn face. The charming ladies' man of the team, David Snyder could win over the hardest heart with nothing more than a flash of one of his smoldering looks. Or so he thought. “I think you should pay her a personal visit. If I recall, the last time you two were together was, shall we say, less than pleasant.”
Less than pleasant was right. She threw Spencer's house key at his head when he wouldn't tell her what he did for a living. He scratched at the scar on his chin, hating that his team even knew that much about his history with Kathryn.
“If he goes,” Gessler said with a wiggle of his eyebrows and an even bigger grin than Snyder's on his face. “I'm going, too. Kat is smoking hot. I have a thing for fiery redheads.”
The way Gessler spoke about Kathryn had Spencer clenching his fists, fighting back an explosion he knew would end up with him in front of the board for putting an agent in the hospital. But damn if the asshole didn't deserve it.
“Maybe we should all go.” Logan McKoy, the newest member of their team spoke up. “I haven't met her, but from what Gessler just said, sounds like I need to.”
They did this to get a rise out of him and he knew it. That didn't mean it pissed him off any less. Spencer dragged in a breath and let it out slowly. He knew what he had to do. Didn't mean he had to like it. “Can we at least get teams out there for containment while she gets her teams in place?”
“I'll get Rand on it,” Weber said over the radio.
Good. Walt Randall had a long reach and pulled information even Weber couldn't get his hands on. Rand had access to resources that told everyone else to take a hike, which made him the best logistics officer Kathryn had on her team. She had no idea he was also a TREX agent and never would. Hell, she barely knew anything about TREX, only that Spencer worked for the tactical retrieval agency and every once in a while needed her agency's help.
Like now.
“Team One,” Weber spoke up. “Give me a two mile perimeter sweep. Aims and Cummings, leave the print search to Team One and backtrack to the cabin. I want to make sure these assholes didn't sneak back in behind us.”
Spencer stiffened. What the fuck was he doing overriding his command to his team? He switched his mic to VOX. “Why are you breaking up my team?”
“Because we don't need six guys waiting around for K-SAR.”
“No one needs to wait around for her.” He caught himself and added, “K-SAR is a professional agency, sir. They know what to do on a search.”
Weber ignored Spencer's reasoning and barked out his own orders. “Snyder, you and McKoy head up to Larch Mountain and rendezvous with K-SAR when they arrive. I've instructed Rand to place base camp there.”
That made no goddamn sense whatsoever. Why put base camp outside the search perimeter? Spencer thinned his lips as Weber made another bad call. “Why Larch Mountain? That's not even close to the cabin.”
Again, his SAC ignored him and it pissed him off. “Once Allen makes the call, you two move out.”
“Yes sir,” they both replied in unison and turned to Spencer.
He wanted to tell Weber where to stick his fucking orders, but knew he'd never get away with it. Not only could Dan Weber drop a man without breaking a sweat, he was Spencer's boss. Although Spencer could definitely hold his own against the likes of men like Weber, he knew better than to cross a senior agent, especially one with such a short fuse. He'd end up on shit finds for the rest of his career.
He turned from the rest of the team to hide his nerves. His jaw clenched, his head throbbing with the uncertainty he'd face the second he heard her voice again. He hated the effect she had on him. No one got to him like Kathryn Davis and it terrified him because of it. She needed a man willing to confess his deepest, darkest sins to her. No secrets. That was what she deserved.
And it was something Spencer would never be able to give her.
First ring.
He could do this. She was just one woman. No harm ever came from a phone call, right? Spencer set his jaw and drove that idea out of his head. He didn't want to think about the last phone call he had where he thought something so fucking naive.
Second ring.
She wasn't with someone. She couldn't be. He hadn't been with anyone since their breakup. Breakup? Hell. It was close to the start of WWIII. Regardless how they split, she wouldn't be with another man now. He refused to believe she'd been able to move on when they still had so much unresolved between them.
Third ring.
Maybe she had her ringer off. That would explain why she hadn't answered, yet. It couldn't be anything to do with Caller ID. She'd recognize his number. He wouldn't put it past her to ignore his call. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted McKoy's phone clipped to his hip. One more ring and he'd call using another phone. As much as he hated to admit it, TREX really did need K-SAR right now. He was just about to hang up when her melodic voice sounded over the line.
“Kat Davis speaking. What's your emergency?”
Need immediately wracked his body and pushed into his cock, waking it. Son of a bitch. He couldn't even keep his libido in check long enough to make it through a single phone call with her. “Hello, Kathryn.”
“Grandpa?”
He almost smiled. Only two people on God's green Earth called her by her proper name. He loved how her voice jumped an octave whenever he caught her off-guard. “It's Spencer Allen.”
The silence on the other end had him tight, unable to breathe as he waited for her reaction. They hadn't heard each other's voices in close to a year.
“Spence?”
He closed his eyes at the way his name rolled from her lips. Oh, how he wished he could witness her reaction to him in person. Her stunning pale gray-blue eyes would be wide in shock. Her thick red hair would be so wild the waves would spill into her lovely face. Spencer would happily push it back and cup her cheeks as he lifted her chin to give him better access to her lips.
Holy Christ. He had to get a hold of his imagination. This wasn't a booty call. “We need your help.”
“Let me guess,” she snapped, now fully alert. And pissed. “The we in your request is TREX? Am I right?”
“Yes.”
“You have the balls to call me at two in the morning to talk about that men-in-black agency you hide behind? Are you shitting me?”
Let her be pissed at him, his agency, and everything else. None of that mattered. They had a little boy to retrieve. “Kathryn—”
“I should have known you'd never call me to actually, you know, apologize for being such an asshole.”
Yep. Definitely pissed. “Listen—”
“No, Spence. You listen to me.”
“That's enough!” He roared and then pinched the skin between his eyes to ward off the sudden pounding in his head that pulsed th
rough his entire body. With a deep breath to pull in his control, he went on. “We've got a kid lost in the Black Hills. TREX is calling in K-SAR.”
“Fine.” Kathryn immediately dropped the prickly attitude. Sort of. “I'll call you when I'm on the road.”
Spencer ended the call and slipped his phone into one of the plethora of pockets on his pants. He ignored the two men staring at him, waiting for him to give them the dirty details of his brief conversation. Well, too fucking bad. They'd be waiting a while.
“Was she awake?” Snyder asked.
Spencer shot him a glare. Snyder found a sudden interest in one of the overkill of weapons he had hanging on him.
“Well? Was she?” McKoy, the probie dumb shit, would learn fast when to ask questions.
And when not to.
Spencer turned to face him and stared him down until he, too, darted his attention to something other than his team leader. “Don't you have somewhere to be?”
Snyder spoke up way too casually, taking the heat off McKoy. “Larch Mountain is only two miles up. We'll make it in fifteen minutes, tops. We have a few minutes to spare. Give us something.”
“No.”
“Come on, Allen. You just talked to the woman that fucked you over.”
That was definitely backward. “No.”
“But you were talking to K-SAR,” McKoy said as he joined in on the inquisition. He then widened his eyes and dropped his jaw and the comprehension sank in. “You and the head of K-SAR? I thought we weren't allowed to fraternize with our contractors. They drilled that into us back at Gahanna.”
“We're not,” Snyder confirmed and gave Spencer a look. “Our boy got in some deep shit for it, too.”
“Was it serious?”
“He asked her to move in with him.”
Spencer's eyes burned as he bounced his glare between the two men. He balled his hands into fists. “Quit living in the past, Snyder. Kathryn and I are through.”
Even as Spencer said it, he didn't believe it. They were far from over. The hunger scraping across his nerves, leaving them raw and him in engorged pain, confirmed it. Definitely far from over.
McKoy redirected the conversation, thank God. “So tell me about K-SAR. Search and rescue for hire? I thought SAR was a volunteer thing.”
“Sanctioned SAR is,” Spencer corrected, thankful to be talking about something other than his love life. “Kathryn tends to dabble in the gray.”
McKoy lifted his brow as he thrust out his chin. “Anything illegal?”
Spencer didn't much appreciate the tone in the probie's voice. “No, nothing like that. She was a coordinator with the state's search and rescue command team for years before branching out into the private sector after being told one too many times that they didn't have the resources for something. She runs her company the same way she runs her searches, with 100% conviction. She gets what she wants when she wants it.” Spencer clenched his fists tighter in an effort to control his voice, to hold back the lust thickening his tone, driving his need to see her again. To touch her and hold her. They were on a mission, for Christ's sake. His lust had to take a back seat.
Snyder glanced at his watch. “Time to run, literally. Probie, try and keep up.”
McKoy hurried after Snyder.
Spencer watched them disappear into the darkness before touching his mic. He muttered a curse when he realized it was still on VOX. Reluctantly he said, “This is Allen. Awaiting assignment.”
“Go home,” Weber ordered.
No way did he hear him correctly. “Sir?”
“You've been emotionally compromised, Allen.”
The fuck he had. “I'm fine. Our mission is not complete. We don't walk away.”
“I don't want a repeat of the last time you and Ms. Davis were together.”
Jesus Christ. Did everyone know about that? “Understood.” When Weber didn't say anything else, Spencer prompted. “Sir? My assignment?”
“Head to base camp.”
Spencer had already started after Snyder and McKoy.
“And Allen? If you screw up another one of our finds because of her, I won't stop the board from booting your ass out this time. Hell, I may just do it myself.”
THREE
Kat Davis hated insomnia. Despised it. But, she reasoned as she drove to base camp, in her profession it actually worked to her advantage. Getting callouts in the middle of the night rarely woke her. It was a part of life. At least her life.
The nightmares didn't recur nearly as much as they used to, but they were still there, just waiting for her to let her guard down. To this day, eighteen years after she'd been lost for two days, she had yet to go back into those woods behind her parents' house for fear whatever monsters that hadn't taken her before would still be there, waiting.
Kat pulled in a deep breath and let it out to clear her head of that dark time. Maybe she should call Rand. Her logistics officer had a sixth sense when it came to her requests. Talking with him would at least keep her mind off the nerves spiking her heart rate at seeing a certain tall, dark, and ridiculously handsome man with smoky gray eyes.
Her cell phone rang. She recognized the number and hit her Bluetooth to answer. “I was just thinking about you, Rand.”
“Did it include calling me any good four-letter words?”
“Sorry. Not this time.”
“I'm not pissing you off enough then, clearly.” His British accent had faded over the years, but she still heard it there. “Fine day for a search, don't you think?”
“What have you got for me?”
“Becker is at basecamp with the Com Van now. We've got ground, horse, mobile, and dog units all awaiting your arrival.”
“No deployment?”
Rand's chuckle rumbled into the line. “I've been with you long enough to know your rules, Kat. No search deployment after dark or before sun up. That ground pounder's busted ankle because he couldn't see where he was going still eats at me.”
Good. He shouldn't have gone around her and deployed her teams into the field before sunrise. The risk outweighed the potential reward and she would not put her teams in any danger.
“Anything else?”
Rand cleared his throat and Kat gripped her steering wheel. She knew his signals. He was about to ask her something personal. “Have you had a chance to talk to anyone from TREX?”
“You mean Spencer?”
“Yes, precisely.”
“He's the one who called me.” And, speaking of the dirty devil, he beeped in on her second line. “That's him on the other line.”
“Try not to kill each other.” He hung up.
Kat debated not answering, knowing who waited for her. TREX Special Agent Spencer Allen. Dominantly male. Highly sexual. He commanded authority with nothing more than a smoldering look from those destructive gray eyes.
She didn't want to talk to him without having at least half a dozen witty comebacks to cover her nerves, but considering the circumstances, she'd make do. Besides, when it came to the sexy, irritating man, she usually thought of the perfect comeback two seconds after she said something that made her sound like a complete moron.
Showtime. She answered with the perkiest voice she could muster at two-thirty in the morning. “What's up, Spence?”
“How close are you?”
“ETA in ten.”
“Can you make it in five? We have teams waiting on you.”
What little teeny tiny excitement that had sparked to life at the thought of seeing him again fizzled. She knew better than to think she'd ever see him outside of one of TREX's precious missions. Or finds, as he constantly reminded her they preferred to call them.
“It won't be light for several hours. Until then, the teams aren't going anywhere. Besides, Travis can hand out the assignments and prep the teams.”
“I wouldn't trust Becker finding a pair of matching socks, let alone a six-year-old lost in the woods. We need you on this, not him.”
Travis Becker had bee
n her SAR co-coordinator with the state before partnering with her to create K-SAR. He was every bit as capable of finding their subject as Kat was. Spencer didn't like him simply because Travis spent more time with her than he did.
She decided not to open up that can of worms. Guaranteed they'd be fighting before she reached basecamp if she did. But then her attitude engaged her tongue before her brain could stop it. “Travis is just as much K-SAR as I am. If you have a problem with that, call in another SAR agency.”
“We need K-SAR.” The grinding of Spencer's teeth echoed through the line. When he spoke, he kept his voice low, even. Kat knew that tone. He was close to exploding. Too damn bad. She refused to let him have his way on this. Let him pout.
“Then cut this bullshit about Travis and talk to me about the search.”
More grinding of teeth followed by a very distinctive growl. Oh, yeah. Definitely close to exploding. “Point-Last-Seen is Larch Mountain, as you already know. It's no place for a kid. There are way too many roads up here to get lost on.”
“And not every downhill road leads to safety,” she added, focusing on the search and not the way his voice—even at a growl—stroked over her senses. She hated that he still had that kind of affect over her. They were coworkers now. Nothing more.
Tell that to the steady throb centering between her legs.
“We have to move fast. There's a storm moving in.”
“I know.” She always listened to the NOAA report before and during a search.
“At least if they're predicting it, it's a guarantee it won't hit, right?”
Ah, small talk. Classic avoidance. She decided to humor him and keep it light. The real fireworks would start the minute they saw each other again. She was not looking forward to that. “Not this time. The entire state is under a Winter Storm Warning on a front coming out of Canada. We're going to get hit with it.”
“Won't that be fun.”
She almost broke character and laughed at the sarcasm in his tone. “Tell me about our subject.”
“His name is Tommy Miller. He's six years old. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Last seen at the Larch Mountain campground.”
