by Dana Volney
“I have them synced so that if they are together, the strength is amplified as one signal and, when they split up, my program records them individually.”
She nodded and lay back into the fluffy pillows more, still able to see his screen and sooth her aching foot. Somewhere, trapped in that impossibly good-looking face of his, was an exceptional brain and talent. Thank God that the events of the morning had worked out in her favor. Not that Marty had been killed or her task force dismantled before it began, but that Eddie had agreed to help. Albeit, still, under false pretenses of the task force still being a thing and his little brother being arrested for murder. Yeah, she was going to have a lot to answer for at the end of all of this. Which would be a lot easier if she was successful at nailing Redburn so it was all worth it.
“Something was a little off.” The trepidation in Warren’s voice brought her out of her pity party.
“It’s called love, Warren.”
The air sucked out of the room. She didn’t dare move a muscle or take her eyes off the screen for fear of making eye contact with Eddie. They weren’t in love. They were just really good at acting like a couple.
“Yeah, but there was something else.” Redburn’s words were slow, the s sound elongated. The back of her neck prickled. Hannah’s eyes rose to Eddie in time to see the sides of his jaw flex. He thought so, too.
“Lilia was absolutely glowing in his arms. Maybe she’s pregnant.”
“What?” Hannah blurted and instinctively touched her belly. “I don’t look pregnant.”
A low laugh came from Eddie’s side of the bed, and she glared at him. “No”—he shook his head, a wide grin creasing the corners of his eyes—“you certainly do not, Nut Goodie. That dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination.” His gaze had the same effect as if he were licking lines on her body, trailed by his fingertips.
She jutted her chin in agreement. She’d take the compliment. It’s not like she could tell Mrs. Redburn how wrong she was. And boy, was she wrong. Hannah would be in her thirteenth month by now.
“Where are they?” she asked. The area where the white dot flashed on the screen wasn’t familiar.
“I think it’s a bunch of warehouses in Ballard.” Eddie opened another screen and checked out Google Maps’ live version of the area. “Yep. Most look abandoned.” He pushed his laptop further down on his legs. “Gimme.” He pointed to her foot with two fingers.
“What?”
“You were a good sport tonight in those heels, and I’d like to see you in them again.”
His gaze was impossibly sincere. And damn, her feet hurt. She propped herself on her palms and moved diagonally toward him, keeping her gaze on him as she rested her foot in his palm. A zing shot up her entire body and lodged in her throat. He slowly kneaded his thumb into the arch of her foot in small circles. She damn near orgasmed. Big hands encased her foot, and the pressure was amazing. Like, mind-blowing. Before she knew it, her other foot had made its way into his hands, and she was on cloud nine.
Eddie had managed to give her more human contact in twelve hours than she’d received in more than a year.
“The Ballard lead is something.” The bug was paying off already. There weren’t any holdings in Ballard in Redburn’s name. She’d memorized all of his properties, and that wasn’t one of them.
“I’ll be quick.” A car door slammed and then country music started playing.
Eddie pressed some keys, and the music stopped; now she could hear swishing noises faintly in the background. Redburn’s fat thighs rubbing together, no doubt. Then Eddie’s hands were back on her feet, moving up to her ankle and then part of her calf. Lord help her. Redburn’s face disappeared, replaced with nothing but the view of Eddie’s long, strong fingers pressing into her flesh and the rush of pleasure sweeping down her back.
“Have both of these inspected,” Redburn ordered.
“Yes, sir,” an unfamiliar deep male voice replied slowly.
“I need to know by tomorrow morning in order to stay on time with the deal.”
More swishing noises. That was it. Nothing incriminating there.
“Well, we know what we have to do next,” Eddie spoke quietly as he dropped his gaze to her lips, then back up to her eyes. The heat from that one move flushed her body, and her heartbeat increased. What did they have to do now? Was he going to run his hands up her legs, pull her hips toward him, and kiss the hell out of her? There was no other way the man kissed.
If he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers, would she have the willpower to stop him? Hell no. She’d even encourage him.
“Road trip.”
What? That was the furthest thing from kissing on the bed she could think of.
Clearly he had no intention of kissing her if it didn’t further the mission. Good. She didn’t need amped-up fake feelings getting in the way of her real goal. And now that they had their next lead, they needed to act quickly. If Monday came around and she didn’t have concrete evidence that Warren Redburn was a criminal, she could be fired from her dream job, and Eddie was mixed up in this mess now, too. Which wasn’t on her radar ten hours ago, but yeah, now she cared, poor sap that she was. Far be it from her to get him fired or arrested or blacklisted from law enforcement.
“Let me change first.” She’d packed jeans and a black sweater and black high-top boots somewhere. Go figure—she was going to put on more clothes.
• • •
Dammit. Hannah was attractive, and now that’s all he saw. She wasn’t some suit he had to deal with on this assignment. She was smart and funny and made him want to reach out and run his palm up the length of her long leg.
And he was in his truck, alone with her at night ... watching a warehouse.
“Did we really have to stop for ice cream?” She licked her bottom lip before spooning a heaping mound of the frozen treat into her mouth.
“I can see you’re really upset about that.” He spooned another lump of birthday-cake-flavored ice creamed covered in caramel into his mouth and turned to see her digging out one of the cherry chips she’d loaded her cup with. “I refuse to do a stakeout on an empty stomach.”
“We had a huge dinner.”
“That was hours ago.”
“Like two.” She chuckled. “Does the tracker have both Redburns still at home?”
“Yup. This is the only stop they made.” Too bad he hadn’t finished the new upgrade to the bug that would’ve allowed him access to phones near the bug, but he was still in the middle phase of that side project.
“Do we know who he might have visited to have the bills authenticated?” Hannah put her spoon to her lips, and his body tingled to be that spoon. Maybe he could arrange another dinner with the Redburns and go for another showing.
“One of these two men is my best guess.” He pointed at the names known to handle counterfeit currency on the local watch list that he’d retrieved out of the FBI database.
“Should your computer skills scare me?” She arched a brow and glanced down at his screen.
“Probably.” He finished the last bit of the sugary goodness in his little white bowl and set it on the floor mat. He was down the block from the warehouse, and no one had come around in the last fifteen minutes they’d been parked. Not even to merely pass by.
“What’s the worst thing you’ve done with your talents?”
“What makes you think I don’t always do the right thing?” Yeah, she had his number all right. Learning to code and program and navigate the dark recesses of the web at a young age didn’t mean he’d always been moral about his choices, even if he was now. Leo might still walk in the gray area of the law, but there was a time he did as well. Luckily, he’d never been in Redburn’s employ. But Eddie had helped track down information for tidy sums in the ’90s, names he’d later seen in the news for being dead. “Have you always wanted to be a police officer?”
“I’m not a cop. I’m a special agent. And, no, not always.”
“What
was little Hannah’s first dream?”
She chuckled, and he turned in the bench seat of his old Ford to get a better view of her soft facial features in the dim street light.
“Marine biologist.”
“Really?” He couldn’t picture her in a wet suit, dealing with tiny creatures. Now Hannah in a red bikini—that visualization was instant.
“Whales are so fascinating.”
That was better. Hannah on a boat in white pants and a blue shirt with binoculars, taking notes, looking stunning as the sun kissed her skin. “What changed your mind?”
The grim set to her mouth was unmistakable. It was the same anger he’d seen at the office earlier today when he tried to leave her task force.
“Life. Life always gets in the way of dreams, doesn’t it?”
“Only if you let it.” Sometimes people had to fight for their dreams no matter the circumstances, and not be sidetracked by the ins and outs of life. His mother had asked him to watch out for his little brother, then died, but even that promise hadn’t been enough to detour him. He enrolled in the army to make something of himself. To live the dream that sparked when Dad gave him his first G.I. Joe for his sixth birthday.
Maybe he should’ve let life take over. Maybe he should’ve caved to his mom’s request. Leo might not be under arrest for murder. Or if he’d somehow changed the event that killed his platoon in the line of duty, his life would be different. Perhaps then he wouldn’t avoid closing his eyes tonight lest he see Amelia bleeding out on the trailer carpet.
“That sounds like talk from someone who hasn’t ever had to make the hard choices.” She set her empty bowl at her feet and then tucked her legs under her on the bench seat, angling herself to lean against the door, facing him.
“I’ve had plenty of hardships in life.” He scanned the area again.
“Do you like where those choices have taken you, Mr. Dever? Are you happy?”
He almost slapped on his charming smile, but hell, he didn’t need to impress her, nor did he need to tell her the full truth: He’d change most of the big moments in his life, because they’d thrown his life into a tailspin by going horribly wrong.
“I don’t dislike them. Playing a guessing game of what could’ve been is never healthy unless it is to determine the answer to a choice you’re currently faced with.” He sounded like some shrink on TV.
Hannah looked like she was going to say something but thought better of it.
He may as well give in to the outskirts of the deep conversation she seemed to want. They would probably be out here for at least another hour. As each minute passed, the chance to see any action tonight decreased. They should plan to get back out here bright and early though, since Redburn mentioned it as a vague deadline.
“Are you happy?”
A humorless laugh escaped her as she wrapped her arms around her front. “I don’t even know anymore.”
“You seem driven in your job.” The shadows from the streetlights accentuated her cheek and darkened the other parts of her face. Darkness had a way of bringing out truths.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“And how would you phrase your domination over the Criminal, Cyber, Response, and what is it—Services branch?—Special Agent Hannah Malone?”
“More like goal oriented.” She chuckled, and the light hit the gloss on her lips. His head swayed closer to her before he realized what was happening and leaned back further into his seat.
“To be the director?” He’d bet a lifetime supply of jelly donuts she wanted to run the whole damn place. There was no doubt she’d get there, too, if that’s what she really wanted.
“Nope. To arrest Warren Redburn and anyone else associated with him and make them answer for the blood on their hands.”
“That’s a pretty specific goal.” And one she didn’t just wake up with out of the blue one day. This had been personal from the start. “Care to share why?”
Silence fell over the cab, and he didn’t make a move to fill it. If she really wanted to talk about what was bothering her, she would. If not, they could sit and wait for any activity outside the shabby steel-sided building.
“My brother died a year ago. Was murdered, actually.”
He knew that type of grief. It held on and didn’t let go. His gut sank as he put the pieces together: She didn’t want Redburn as a feather in her career cap. She wanted him to pay for her brother’s death. She wanted revenge. And that was always a dangerous path—one he was now on with her.
Chapter Seven
God only knew why she was sharing her story with Eddie. He didn’t care. Part of her just needed to say it out loud. Needed to make sure she wasn’t going crazy. And not cry. She could tell the story and not cry.
“My parents traveled a lot for work and fun, and Robert sort of raised me. He taught me how to play cards, sleight of hand,” she glanced Eddie’s way, “pickpocketing. He was always there for me. He was more than a big brother.” She watched the streetlight down the block flicker and the clouds huddled in the sky beyond the rooftops to calm an influx of heat rushing to her cheeks.
“I didn’t realize he gambled, outside of teaching me a few tricks, for a long time. It never occurred to me why he was so good. His debt started to rack up when I was in college. I got a call one night; he needed a couple thousand quickly. I could hear the panic in his voice, a tone that had never been there before. I got out of bed and left my dorm room for the ATM immediately. But it was the wild wide-eyed stare on his handsome face that I’ll never forget. He was a gambling addict.”
“I want to hear this, I really do, but what kind of college kid can just go get a thousand dollars out of an ATM?” Eddie asked.
Back in college, she’d been very defensive of her status; it was her parents’ money, not hers. She had little patience for people who held her bank account against her. Money hadn’t made her parents be parents, and it hadn’t provided her with love during hard times. Only Robert had.
And now Eddie sounded like he cared, too. Yeah, she’d share.
“I come from a wealthy family.” She found out years later that her parents had already cut Robert off when he was twenty-four because they knew. They knew about his problem and did nothing. They owned some responsibility for her last image of him. Cut. Bloodied. Bruised.
She froze. It punched the air right out of her
“Years later, he was still heavy into gambling, betting wherever he could, but he always went back to cards. He loved poker. About a year ago, I told him I wasn’t going to get him out of jams anymore.” She smiled at the word. When he needed money, he was always “in a jam.” But the way he said it reminded her of the brother who had tucked her in at night and checked for monsters under her bed when she had a bad dream. “I offered to get him help, check him into a clinic, but he wouldn’t. Said he’d be fine. A couple days later, he came around needing money, and I told him no. Stood firm like you’re supposed to.” Her next words were nearly impossible to say—they always were—even to think. “That night he was murdered because he couldn’t pay.”
People who said in a high-and-mighty tone that collectors don’t kill their debtors could go straight to hell. Especially when the person who owed had absolutely no way to pay them in the foreseeable future.
“I’m sure you did everything you could.”
She jutted out her chin; she couldn’t stop the defensiveness that coursed through her veins. Or maybe it was guilt or duty to Robert’s memory that wouldn’t let go. “I didn’t.” Her head shook, and anger flared in her eyes. “He needed me, and I turned my back. I’d had enough.”
Addiction sucked all around—for those with the problem and those trying to help. No one got out unscathed.
“We failed him. I failed him.” She wrapped her arms around her chest tighter as a chill swept through her. She was the closest she’d ever been to making Redburn pay. She just needed to hold on for a couple more days.
“I’m sure Robert doesn’t see
it that way.”
“How would you know?” she snapped.
Eddie put his palms up and nodded. “You’re right. You’re right. But I doubt you failed him. You were doing what you thought was best. That’s all anyone can do.”
She took a deep breath and blinked to shut out the memories of that last, ugly argument. The last thing she ever said to her brother was “no.”
“I’m taking down Redburn.” She folded her hands in her lap, squeezing until her arms were completely stiff, then letting up. The urge to scream dissipated. That man was going to pay for Robert and all the other families and souls he’d destroyed.
“We are crushing him. That’s for sure. I’m sorry about your brother.” Eddie’s gaze, with no joking on his lips, hit her right in the throat. It was suddenly hard to swallow. Or breathe. “You’re not alone in this.”
“Thank you.”
They sat in silence with nothing to do but look at the cloudy, dark night sky. She was tapped out on sharing. She’d said way too much to a guy she’d just met, who she was lying to in order to help her on a personal vendetta. Technically, only partially lying, but still. She was such an awesome person.
He rifled around in the bag between them on the seat, the black messenger bag she’d never seen him without. He didn’t pull out anything, but instead slung his bag across his chest and opened his door, glancing back at her before getting out completely.
“You coming?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She scrambled out of the cab and quick stepped until she caught up with him.
“We may as well get some bugs planted in this joint while we wait. We could even get lucky enough to tap into a computer or two.” Eddie was light on his feet, staying in the shadows.
“They probably have cameras.”
“I’m sure they do.” He stopped next to the brick building directly across the narrow road from Redburn’s place. He grabbed his laptop from his bag and leaned against the brick. “And if they’re wireless, I’ll just take care of them now.” He propped his foot on the building and rested his laptop on his knee to work with both hands. His nimble fingers flew over the keyboard. Was there anything he wasn’t capable of doing? As far as she could tell, there wasn’t a system out there that he couldn’t gain access to. Had he looked up information on her? She’d only looked up his basics because of his attachment to her informant. Because his army record stood out. Because she’d wanted to use him. And all it got her was up shit creek without a paddle on Monday if he didn’t deliver.
