“Good. Makes working together easier. By the way, Drake told me about that crazy text you received,” Josh said. “Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I don’t like coincidences, and there seem to be a lot of them.”
“Don’t try to talk me out of going to D Street.” Mackenzie used her best I’ll-do-what-I-want tone. “Drake tried that and it didn’t work. It triple-damn won’t work coming from you.”
“I figured as much. Just promise me you’ll wait till I get there before you step onto the street.”
“Why should I promise anything? As I recall, promises don’t mean anything to you.”
“Stop it right now, Macki. This isn’t a game.” His tone had lowered, bordering on a growl put into words. “From the looks of traffic, I should be there by the creep’s eleven o’clock timeframe. Promise you’ll wait in your car till you see me.”
“I’ll try. Don’t be late.” She ended the call and straightened the fringe on her vest as she swallowed down her unease. Who was she kidding? Handling the whole bodyguard protector setup would be a breeze compared to handling her emotions.
No problem. She’d give him a room on the opposite side of the hotel and five floors below hers. He’d be by her side for protection when they left Hotel MacKenzie, but once they returned, they’d go separate ways. Her plan should solve everyone’s problems.
She couldn’t believe she’d let his coming back to Riverfalls upset her. After all, she was a grown woman who could more than handle Joshua Slater. All that would take was…distance. Lots and lots of distance.
Her phone beeped with an incoming text on the thread from earlier in the day.
No need to rush, my lady in pink. I’ve changed the timeframe. Needed someone sooner.
Why had the creep changed the timeframe? What did that mean…sooner?
She texted she was on her way. Text blocked. Texted she’d be right on time. Text blocked. Texted she had on the pink outfit. Text blocked. A chill raced across her skin.
“Faster,” she shouted to her chauffeur. “Faster!”
Another incoming text beeped. Sorry. Too late.
Chapter Three
Glancing at the clock on his truck’s dashboard, Josh calculated he was right on five minutes early, taking into account he’d left a message on Mackenzie’s voicemail that he’d be ten minutes late. After a chopper flight from St. Louis to Bloomington, Illinois, and another hour driving, Riverfalls was finally in sight. Then, D Street. Then, Mackenzie Baudin.
Time in the chopper had allowed him to review the file Drake had uploaded on Macki. True to his word, he’d only included the basics of her life. Josh’s main focus had been the dozen photos, close-ups and full body, portrait style and casual off-the-cuff moments. He’d stared at them for almost an hour. Instilling characteristics. Noticing body language. Picking up expressions.
As far as looks went, she was still five-six, slender, curvy, except now the curves were those of a woman. Just like years ago, the first thing he’d noticed were her legs, long and lean. The kind of legs that could wrap around a man and trap him. Her shoulder-length auburn hair held a more honey-bronze look than he remembered, but her fair skin was ever flawless, her heart-shaped lips ever full and inviting.
And, she’d looked happy. Laughing and smiling, alert and defiant. Sure, a few times, he’d picked up on tired…or bored…or both, in her expression. But, for the most part, her hazel-green eyes had glistened with confidence or kindness or sheer happiness.
He didn’t look forward to being close to her again, but this was his assignment. Their phone conversation had seemed to go well. He’d been professional, to the point, and emotionless. So had she.
Might have been years, but memories were like hot-wired switches, fast and easy to flip on at a moment’s notice. His switch had been on most of the way here.
He pulled off the interstate and followed old paths with shiny new halogen lights, bike lanes at the edge of the streets, and people braving the heat in upscale outdoor cafés. After he took a left, the next few blocks dimmed. Except for a couple of softly lit decorative streetlamps by the sidewalk, the only light came from lamps glowing in modern row-house windows. A couple of vacant lots led him to believe this was an area in transition. Good? Bad? Time would tell.
Turning right on D Street, he saw the glow of neon about six blocks away. A beat of music and life grew louder and louder with each passing needs-some-updating apartment building and Craftsman house, some with a/c units hanging in the windows, some with fans blowing the warm air around, some with nothing more than an open window and curtains hanging still at the side of the frame.
“Yep, not much change in this area.” He pulled into a parking spot in the main part of the D Street drag then jumped from the truck and headed up the street.
Macki might not even be there yet. His main objective was to be out in the open, so she could see him. Reaching the upper end of the busiest portion of the sometimes illegal fun-time district, he headed back down the street.
He rolled his shoulders as a trickle of sweat etched a path down his spine. This humidity-fueled heat wave felt like initiation to hell tonight. Scary thought, since he knew for damn sure he was no saint. Without thinking, he raked his fingers through his damp hair.
An unexpected sting from salty perspiration against the healing knife wound in his back made him flinch. No big deal. He’d had worse. But why did every place he got assigned lately have to be blue-blazes hot?
The scent of cheap perfume floated up beside Josh.
“Looking for anything tonight?” A soft-spoken twentysomething woman with clear eyes, short sleeves, and fresh breath brushed his arm. “Maybe I can help you find what you need.”
Josh took a step back. No drugs, no tracks, no booze. The woman looked fresh on the street. He forced a smile and raised his hands, palms facing her. “Not tonight, honey. I’m completely out of money and need.”
Before he even finished his statement, the woman had moved toward a passing guy in a button-down shirt, black horn-rimmed glasses, and a gaudy toupee. Evidently, the heavy gold-link bracelet and shiny-shiny black shoes the new customer wore made him think he was cool.
The man put his arm around her shoulders as they walked on down the street, him whispering in her ear. In return, the woman wound her arm around his waist and giggled. Newfound friends to be sure.
Nothing Josh could do but hope the woman stayed safe.
He scanned the street searching for Macki. Might have been a long time, but he’d still recognize her walk, her movements, her laugh, even from a block away. Of course, using one of her undercover outfits from years ago might put a damper on his recognition. But the bright pink sexy getup she’d described should be easy to pick out.
His peripheral vision caught sight of a woman pushing the far side of forty, with red hair, painted lips, and three-inch heels. She was perched on a bar stool at one lone high-top table situated in front of a small café called Mama’s Kitchen.
Seemingly at ease in her surroundings, she leaned back as if she owned the world, but her face looked tired as she glanced from one end of the street to the other. She didn’t look like a pimp, but he’d bet money she took care of the women working this street.
That was who he needed to talk to—the person who knew every face, every car, every piece of dirt that belonged on D Street. Plus, what didn’t belong. Since he’d seen no sign of Macki, he figured now was as good a time as any to make contact with the woman on the stool.
On the next pass of her up-and-down-the-street glance, he locked gazes with her. She paused for a moment then glanced over him as if he didn’t exist.
He strolled to her table, braced his hand on the top. “Can I buy you a drink, ma’am?”
“You need to get off this street, mister.”
“Josh. My name’s Josh.”
She zeroed her look in on him. “Well, Josh, you’re bad for business. So get off the street.”
“Last time I looked, this w
as a public sidewalk.” He straightened and took one step back. “Listen, I’m not a cop, if that’s what you think, ma’am.”
She never took her eyes off him. “Then you’re something worse. I’ve got enough of them around here already. Now, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of this area.”
The woman had guts. She also had a keen sense for reading people. He bet she also had a temper. A temper could sometimes lead to a dropped clue in a heated discussion. He’d push his luck and see what shook out.
“Well, ma’am—”
She slammed her palm on the table. “You call me ma’am one more time, you’re going to be in serious pain.”
Her stare flowed down to his crotch as she angled her foot in an upward position.
He stepped away a little more, gave a slight laugh. “I sure don’t want that. Uh… I didn’t get your name.”
“Roxy,” she stated proudly with a slight throaty sound at the beginning, then started her up-and-down-the-street glancing once again. He’d been dismissed.
His phone vibrated with Drake’s personal signal. For privacy, he crossed the street at the crosswalk and headed on down the sidewalk. The crowd gathered on the far side of the intersection wasn’t a place to hold this phone conversation.
“Did you do a follow-up phone call with Macki?” Drake asked.
“Yeah, we talked.”
Drake paused as if waiting for a more in-depth report. Too bad. That was all he was getting out of Josh at this point. The silence dragged for a bit.
“You need something?” Josh asked.
“I contacted one of my reliable police sources in Riverfalls. Found out there’ve been some assaults in the D Street neighborhood.”
“Macki didn’t mention any of that to me.” That information made this stakeout take on a whole different flavor. “Call her back and tell her not to come.”
“She won’t listen. I told you before how close she got to the prostitutes when she worked D Street.” Drake paused. “Hey, one thing I forgot to mention. Be very careful who you trust in the police department there.”
Josh already knew to be on guard when it came to the police in the area. Most were okay, but somewhere there had to be at least one thorn. Maybe more, from what OPAQUE had been told by the FBI.
“Will do.”
Another lull in the conversation. Silence that played in sharp contrast to the sharp beat on the street. Drake was usually on and off the phone in a flash. Why was he dragging out the call? Macki…that’s why. Drake had been responsible for her welfare for so long, ever since the death of her parents, he didn’t know how to stop.
“Anything else?” Josh asked.
“No, just… Keep your eyes out for her.”
“Don’t worry, I got this. No sign of her yet.”
Drake sighed heavily. “Stay sharp. You may not recognize her in that lady-of-the-evening outfit and spiky white wig.” The call ended.
Josh stopped cold in his steps. Stared at the crowd gathered at the far side of the intersection. The crowd parted just enough that he glimpsed what looked like yellow crime scene tape. EMTs. Cops. Detectives. Pink? Pink? He searched for any signs of pink, but the gawkers were packed so close together, he couldn’t see past the perimeter.
Cold fear flashed through his body as the scene shot to his brain. Accident? Crime? Macki? Damn it to hell, please don’t let it be Macki. Not my Macki.
His insides pulsed with adrenaline as he slammed the phone in his pocket and headed toward the crowd. He wanted to run, to yell her name, but he had to keep his cover. His only sure ally in Riverfalls was his cover.
She’d promised to stay in the car. To wait for him. He’d trusted her word. Should have known she wouldn’t follow his instructions.
“Get out of my way.” Pushing through the congregating people, he struggled to get to the front of the line. People stepped aside and when they didn’t, he elbowed them out of his path. All he cared about was getting to the edge of the crime scene tape.
A whisper of jasmine and vanilla triggered his senses, pulling him to another time and place.
Macki? He stopped. Turned to his left, scanning the people close by. She wasn’there. Had he only imagined the fragrance from years ago? Completely lost his mind before he even laid eyes on her? Not likely. He was a stronger man than that. Inhaling through his nose, he homed in on the scent’s origin.
Close…she was close…closer than—
“Excuse me.” A woman in pink, with spiky blond hair, seemed to deliberately shoulder bump his arm as she brushed past and kept on walking.
His gaze gave her a quick up and down as recognition shot to his gut and grabbed hold like a vise, twisting and turning till his brain caught up with his body. His head zeroed in on the tight little skirt being worked with a boatload of finesse.
He’d found Macki. And, from the view of her backside as she pushed through the crowd, his Macki had grown up, and then some. He silently groaned. All signs pointed to the fact his assignment had just got harder. Harder than hell.
…
Mackenzie had deliberately bumped Josh then kept on walking. Instead of following her, he’d crossed the intersection as if nothing had happened. Once there, he leaned against the corner lamppost.
Figuring he didn’t want to be part of any police questioning, she sauntered in his direction, taking her time crossing the street. The closer she got, the more she realized she’d gotten part of her earlier wish—Josh had changed.
His broad shoulders and muscles made the black shirt he wore look like a second skin, and she’d been drawn to his movements. So much for her vision of a nerd who wore brown. Josh’s shoes were black. Jeans were dark. And if it were daylight, she bet he’d be wearing one sexy pair of sunglasses. She couldn’t keep herself from glancing at the way the jeans snugged around his calf muscles and across his rear.
Fourth-generation Greek lineage had stayed prominent. From the tanned olive skin to the blue eyes that used to hold the promise of a good time. Now, he stared at her as if he were reading her soul. There was no fun in them. No laughter.
She’d remembered his darker-than-dark brown hair, thick and sleek. The way he wore it just long enough that the ends sometimes curled at his neckline, sometimes tumbled onto his forehead. High cheekbones and a still straight nose, even after all these years of working protection. A jawline etched in shadow. A mouth remembered in memory.
She’d kissed that full lower lip, she’d nipped and—yes, she remembered. Except now, the look was sexier. More magnetic. More tempting. More likely to creep into her dreams.
From everything she’d just seen, he walked hard, stood hard, and gave off one damn hard aura to people walking past. And his hands… She brushed her fingers against her side to still the remembered feel of him holding her years ago.
He’d broken her heart and never looked back. He might be her uncle’s best protector agent, but that didn’t make him the best man for her. She deserved someone who put her first, or she’d have no one at all. As for Josh…he was completely off-limits.
Stepping in front of him, she girded herself against the attraction then reached out to touch his arm. “You look angry. Everything okay?”
He pulled away, giving her a back-off look from the corner of his eye. “Hell no, I’m not okay.”
Sliding her palm from his skin, she’d hoped for a hug. A how-are-you. Maybe a peck on the cheek. Anything to let her know they could move on as friends. Instead, he nudged her arm away. His forearms with taut muscles and bulging veins caught her eye. A scar across the top of the forearm looked like the wound had been long, deep, and fierce.
“I’m sorry about bumping you, but I figured you might be looking for me. Might be worried.” Mackenzie stumbled over her own words, fighting to hold on to her emotions.
“You got that right.” Josh stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. His blue eyes were almost gray at that moment. Penetrating. Intense. Vigilant. “Drake would have my hid
e if I lost a client before I’d even laid eyes on them. Who knows what he’d do if I don’t keep you safe?”
Client. The word stung like a blister rubbing against the heel of a shoe. Raw and past healing. What more had she expected? “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about because I’m still here.”
“Got a problem over here, Macki?”
“No, Detective Cummings.” She moved out of the man’s space as he stepped up beside them. “No problem except you blowing my cover again.”
He pushed closer. “Come off it. You aren’t part of the force anymore. Give me a break before I haul your— Before you find yourself downtown making bail.”
“Not on your best day, Detective.”
Just when she didn’t need the police, here they were. Not one of the cops on the block, but the one detective who made her feel uncomfortable. Not in a creepy, intrusive way. Not in a sexual, tingly way, either. Still, he made her uncomfortable.
Cummings leaned farther into her space. “I’ve had a lot more best days than you. Of course, I’m not the one who bailed on my brothers and sisters in the police department.”
One thing she’d learned was that she had to stand up for herself and give just as deep a cut as she took, but where Cummings was concerned she wouldn’t. From what she’d seen, he lived his own deepest cut every day.
“Bring it on, Detective.” Defending herself, she used her best belligerent tone. “I’ve still got plenty of fight left in me.”
Cummings glanced at Josh. “Who are you, buddy? You the guy who likes to text? The one Macki called the station about?” He stepped in Josh’s direction. “The one getting his jollies off on her outfit?”
Josh didn’t answer. Didn’t move. Didn’t react to the goading. “You should be careful who you’re accusing, Officer.”
Her mind shouted this situation could deteriorate faster than melting ice cream in this heat. She edged between the two men. “If you must know, Detective, he’s a friend. Now, I’ve got some questions for you.” She moved the attention back to herself. “Two weeks ago, a different girl was assaulted. Why didn’t anyone call me?”
Slater's Revenge Page 3
