With another impatient roll of his eyes, Moore complied by flashing his newspaper-employee badge.
Satisfied, she nodded. “Fine. Let me just get my stuff.”
Another vehicle turned into the parking lot, and Paige breathed a glad sigh when she saw it was Dylan and Will.
He pulled up beside her and the reporter. Eyes darting between them, he rolled down the window. “Can I help?”
From the backseat, Will watched the adults. Thankfully, he didn’t look scared, just curious.
Paige nodded. “Can you give me a ride to my house? Someone stole my car battery.”
With an eye on the reporter, Dylan nodded. “Hop in.”
“Oh, come on,” Moore protested. “I just want to talk.” His gaze zeroed in on Will. “Hey, is that the kid? Will he tell me about—”
“No,” Dylan interrupted, fury erupting on his face. “He won’t.”
Paige hurried around to the passenger side of Dylan’s car and climbed in. Through Dylan’s still-open window, she called to the reporter, “Thanks, anyway.”
His eyes narrowed on her, and his lips tightened into a thin line. “See you around, Ms. Worth.”
Dylan rolled up his window and headed out of the parking lot while Paige pondered Simon Moore’s words. Somehow, they didn’t sound like a nice parting comment. The more she thought about it, the more she decided they might be considered a threat.
Peering into the rearview mirror, she could see the man still standing beside his car, talking into a cell phone.
Had he been the one to steal her battery?
If not … then who? And why?
Dylan glanced out of the corner of his eye at the woman beside him. Deep in thought, her brow furrowed as she chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m glad I happened to pass the parking lot. Are you all right? You think that reporter stole your battery?”
She jerked and stared at him. “Yes, I’m okay. Something’s just not right. First the car that nearly ran down—” She stopped and glanced in the rearview mirror.
“It’s all right. He’s got his earphones on. He’s listening to a book on my iPod.”
“—then someone breaks in my house and now this,” she finished.
Dylan’s fingers clenched the wheel. “Broke into your house!”
Paige blinked at him and snapped her lips together. She blew out a breath and nodded. “Yes. The night I came home from the hospital. Someone broke in. He … ran off when he realized I was awake.”
Dylan pulled into her driveway and turned the engine off. “Did you call the police?”
“I reported it.”
Climbing out of the car, Paige walked ahead of him to open the door to her home. Dylan got Will out and followed her inside.
“Come on in and get comfortable,” she said. “Will is welcome to watch the Cartoon Channel.”
“He’s got his Nintendo DS game if he gets bored.”
“Great. Then I’ll just throw a couple of these casseroles in the oven to heat. Do you have a preference? Mexican or chicken?”
Dylan led Will into the den as he watched Paige scurry around the kitchen. “Mexican sounds good.”
“Mexican it is.”
He smiled when he saw her shoes tossed in the hall in front of the closet. He wondered if she’d trip over them again and give him another chance to catch her, hold her in his arms.
But Will was here. His wide eyes took in the small living area.
Dylan looked at her mantel over the fireplace, the television against the wall, the picture behind the recliner, and realized something. She had nothing personal sitting out. No family pictures. No plants. Nothing to indicate that she planned to stay here permanently.
He also realized he knew very little about Paige’s background. Every time they’d chatted, he’d done most of the talking—at least about personal stuff.
Watching her puttering around the kitchen, seeing Will relax on the sofa, his Nintendo game making soft beeping noises, made Dylan’s heart stutter.
And long for a family.
Dylan walked over and picked up Paige’s shoes. “Hey, where do you keep your shoes? I’ll put these away for you. The hall closet?”
Her voice came from the kitchen. “Yes, thanks.”
Dylan reached for the knob and tugged it open. He stopped and stared in confusion at the contents. Hurried footsteps came toward him.
“No, wait! I don’t want them in …”
He heard her voice trail off as she realized what he was staring at. He turned and asked, “Why do you have a shoulder holster hanging in your closet?” He paused. “And a badge that says Paige Ashworth—DEA?”
Paige bit back the groan that threatened to escape.
Did she lie or shoot straight with him?
“I, um, I told you I had a fascination with police shows.
Well, as a joke, my … brother …” She broke off, unable to look him in the eye and lie. She simply couldn’t do it. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have batted a lash. But Dylan was different.
And yet he wasn’t. She still had to find out what he knew about his sister’s death. And she could see that if he thought she was lying, he’d shut her out completely.
Blowing a breath from her pursed lips, she glanced at the occupied child and said in a low voice, “I can’t lie to you.” She walked to the kitchen then back. “I’m DEA. I’m undercover. My real name is Ashworth.”
His flinch stung her. The narrowed eyes nearly cut her in two. She lifted her chin and stared at him.
“DEA? As in Drug Enforcement Agency?” he sputtered the words.
“Yes.”
Taking a step toward her, still holding her shoes, he asked, “And what’s in Rose Mountain that has the DEA sending an agent out here to do undercover work?”
Paige bit her lip, uncertainty squirming inside her stomach. Then she pulled in a calming breath. “Because your sister’s boyfriend, Larry Bolin, was also an undercover agent who got killed, and a lot of people want to know why—including his family.”
“Family?” Dylan stilled. “Was he married?”
“No. But he was close to his parents and three brothers.”
“And he was DEA.”
It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t bother answering.
Dylan looked like he’d just received a punch to the kidney. “Sandra’s boyfriend? My sister’s boyfriend worked for the DEA? Did she know this?”
“Yes. He talked her into giving him as much information as possible before they died. At least that’s what he told us.” Compassion softened her eyes. “She was turning her life around.”
“How did I not know this?”
“Eli, your sheriff, asked the DEA for help after the two parents from the elementary school were arrested. They’re not talking because they’re scared to death of repercussions from whoever they were getting the drugs from.” Paige took the shoes from his slack fingers and placed a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you sit down?”
He moved to the kitchen table and slid onto one of the chairs. His gaze darted to the den area where Will was still engrossed in his game. The timer dinged, indicating the casserole was finished.
Inhaling, she drew comfort from the delicious-smelling dish. Moving on autopilot, she dropped the shoes into the closet. Back in the kitchen, she removed the food from the oven and started pulling down plates and glasses.
Setting the table, she worked around Dylan who still seemed to be taking it all in.
“So you’re here to work on the case,” he said.
“Yes. But even though Eli was the one who requested the help, he doesn’t yet know it’s here.”
He raised his eyes to meet hers. “And all those questions about what I knew about the fire. You were pumping me for information.”
She blew out a deep sigh and set the silverware on the table. “Yes.” She wouldn’t make any excuses.
“I don’t know whether to be angry or …” His voice trailed off, and Paige felt his conf
usion to the depths of her soul.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you when we first met. I had to make sure you weren’t involved.”
He frowned. “And you’re sure now?”
She felt the flush creep up into her cheeks. “Yes. In the short time that we’ve known each other, I just …” She shrugged. “Call it instinct. I don’t think you had anything to do with the fire or anyone’s death. And your rock-solid alibi doesn’t hurt, either.” She tried a smile.
His shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Well, thanks for that, anyway.”
“However, you can’t tell anyone what I’m doing.”
Dylan shook his head. “I won’t say anything. I want to know who started that fire as much as anyone else. More so. Sandra didn’t deserve to die like that.”
“And neither did Larry.” She set the food on the table and placed a serving spoon in the bowl. “You want to get Will?”
Dylan called the little boy into the kitchen, and the three of them sat down to eat. She dipped the spoon and started serving. Will simply looked at his plate, then his uncle. “Doesn’t he like Mexican food?” Paige asked.
“Yes, he’s, uh … waiting for us to say the blessing.”
Paige swallowed, felt the heat in her cheeks. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Dylan smiled at her, and she gulped at the sweet feelings running through her. He asked, “Would you like me to say it?”
“Yes, please.” It had been quite a while since she’d prayed, and she wasn’t sure if she even remembered how. Except to beg for help when she was in trouble.
They bowed their heads, and Dylan offered a short and very sweet prayer thanking God for everything and asking his blessing on the food. As soon as he said amen, Will picked up his fork and dug in.
Paige forgot her discomfort and laughed as she watched him eat. “I guess you were hungry, huh, kiddo?”
Will glanced at her, then went back to his food, but not before she caught the twinkle in his eye. Her heart warmed as she took in the sight of them at her table. Like a family.
Then grief pierced her.
They were the family she’d always wanted but would never have.
Gulping her water, she pushed aside the momentary crack in her usually unflappable armor.
“I’ll be glad to take you to the auto-parts store downtown so you can get a battery for your car,” Dylan offered.
“That’s all right. I’ll get it taken care of tomorrow.”
He frowned at her. Paige thought he might insist, but he didn’t.
Instead, he said, “So, tell me something about yourself, Paige. Something that doesn’t have anything to do with what you’re working on.”
She lifted a brow. “What do you want to know?”
“What was your childhood like?”
Paige grimaced. The one topic she’d rather not discuss. She looked at him.
While he waited for her to answer, he took another bite of the casserole. “Well?”
Paige glanced at Will. “Probably a bit like his.”
Dylan blanched. “Oh. Sorry.”
She shrugged. “I’ve come a long way since then. I don’t think about it too much anymore.”
“So you still have contact with your parents?”
“My mother, not parents. I don’t know who my father is. And no, I don’t keep up with her anymore.” Sadness filled her. Suddenly she wasn’t hungry. Setting her fork down, she stood. “Anyone need anything else to drink?”
Will held his cup up to her, and she filled it with the milk she’d bought the day before. His eyes lingered on hers and she smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“You’ll be a great mom one day,” Dylan observed.
Paige froze. Then she pulled in a deep breath. “No. No, I won’t. I won’t ever be a mother.” Her mind went back to that room where her mother’s friends slept on the floor. To a little boy whose mother left him there. She remembered his coughing and how her mother ignored him through the closed door. Paige had also ignored him, replicating her mother’s parenting. She willed herself to stop the flood of memories.
Dylan flinched and actually went pale. Before Paige could gather her thoughts and ask him what was wrong, a loud crash from the den jolted her to her feet.
SEVEN
Dylan bolted after Paige, then froze, turned back to Will and saw the boy’s wide, frightened eyes locked on him. Forcing a smile, Dylan went to him. But his gaze went to the woman on the other side of the kitchen counter investigating the broken window behind the couch.
“Paige, is everything all right?”
“I think so,” she called back. But her voice was tight, and Dylan could tell she’d answered the way she had in order not to scare Will. She went to the hall closet. The one where he’d found her shoulder holster. Pulling out a metal box from the top shelf, she set it on the counter, then dialed the combination. Popping the top, she grabbed the contents.
He saw the glint of metal before she hid it behind her back. A gun.
A chill swept through him. “Paige?”
She shot a glance over her shoulder. “Everything’s fine. I’m just going to take a look outside, all right? You stay here with Will.”
Frustration hit him. “You can’t go out there by yourself. What if—”
“Dylan, please. I’ll be fine. I’m trained for this kind of thing, remember?”
“Then I’m calling 911. You need some backup.” “No.” Her sharp tone cut into him. “I don’t need that kind of attention. If I think I need backup, I’ll call it in. Just stay with Will and let me do my job.”
He said nothing else as she eased out the back door.
Paige’s stomach twisted into knots as she looked up and down the street. Even though it was nearing six-fifteen, the sun still shone, and she could see clearly in every direction.
What had broken the window? More specifically, who was responsible?
Once again, she wondered if her cover had been blown. A shadow moved to her right. Her fingers gripped her gun, and she spun to see a figure dart from behind her bushes and head for a car parked across the street about three houses down.
“Freeze!” she called.
The fleeing man stopped for a brief moment but never looked back. He picked up speed once again. Paige started after him, then stopped. She could take him down, but that really would expose the fact that she wasn’t who she was pretending to be.
And yet, she desperately wanted to know who this guy was. Her would-be intruder was already in the driver’s seat with the engine started. Paige put on a burst of speed and got close enough to get a few digits from the license plate. “ALC 14 … something,” she muttered out loud.
As she reentered the house, Dylan waited for her, cordless phone in his left hand. Will sat on the couch watching a video.
She stopped. “Please tell me you didn’t call anyone.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I called Eli.”
“The sheriff?” she nearly squeaked.
“Sorry, but there was no way I was letting you go after someone who could have a weapon or something without some kind of backup.” He glanced at his nephew. “I couldn’t leave him to help, so I did the only thing I could.”
Unable to fathom what this might mean to her cover, she stomped to the kitchen, racking her brain for some kind of story to tell the sheriff.
Flashing red lights outside the kitchen window told her she’d better think fast.
To Dylan, she said, “Let me handle this, all right?”
“You can trust Eli.”
“Right now, I can’t trust anyone.”
“You trusted me.”
Her heart thumped. Yes, she had. And it went against everything in her to do it, because while she couldn’t explain it, she knew she had to. “And you’re the only one, all right?”
And then Eli was pounding on the door. “Dylan, you in there?”
Hiding her gun back in the closet, Paige opened the door and let the sheriff in. H
is alert, green eyes said he wasn’t missing a thing and she’d better tread carefully in order not to give herself away. “What’s going on here? Dylan called and said you had some kind of intruder?”
Paige let him in. “Yes. We were eating supper and heard the window in the den break. I looked outside but didn’t see anything except someone running away.”
Eli turned and exited the house once again. Shooting Dylan a look, she followed. Dylan’s gaze went to Will. The boy was still engrossed in watching the program, so Paige wasn’t surprised when Dylan turned to follow her.
The three made their way around to the broken window.
“There.” She crept forward, doing her best not to disturb the ground anymore than she had to. “Footprints.”
“And an overturned bucket.”
Dylan leaned in. “That looks like blood on that jagged piece of glass.”
Eli cleared his throat. “All right, people, clearly someone was here.” His eyes landed on Paige. “I’m putting this puzzle together, and I’m not liking the picture I’m getting.”
Raising her brows, she blinked at him, going for her best innocent look. “What do you mean?”
“Look, first that deal with Will and the runaway car, then the break-in at Dylan’s office. Now this.” His astute eyes bored into her. “What’s going on?”
Paige blew out a breath. This whole case was falling apart. Never in her career with law enforcement had a case gone so wrong. But she had to play it cool. Until her supervisor gave her permission to break cover—again—she had to keep a lid on it. The fact that Dylan knew would stick in Charles’s craw. If she told Eli, she would jeopardize her career.
Turning, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I still think Dylan must have made someone mad, and they’re out to get him. I mean, that’s the most logical explanation, right?”
Dylan made a choking sound in his throat, and it was all she could do not to glare at him.
Eli’s gaze flicked between the two of them, then he shook his head. “Fine. Keep your secrets.” He narrowed his eyes. “For now.”
Dylan sighed and Paige breathed a sigh of relief. “So, what about the window? Can’t you do some sort of DNA test like they do on TV and figure out who tried to break in?”
Agent Undercover Page 7
