by Karen Anders
He frowned and glanced at the grapefruit on her plate. He shook his head. “That’s not breakfast,” he scoffed. “That’s juice. Let me show you what a real breakfast is.”
“Mmm-hmm. I’m sure this is going to add weight to my already generous hips, thighs and butt.”
“That’s easy to fix,” he said, slapping her butt as she turned.
She gave him a narrowed-eyed look. “I know you’re not saying I’m fat.”
He held up his hands and stepped back. “Do I look like I have a death wish?”
“You have a point, Lieutenant?”
“Yeah, Senator. You know what’s good for burning calories?”
“Swimming?” she said acerbically.
He laughed and headed for the fridge and started to pull out bacon, eggs and butter. He gave her a very wicked grin. “Oh, that would have been my second choice.”
“You are a bad man.”
Marriott Hotel, Pentagon City,
Arlington, Virginia
“I freaking hate DC,” Austin said as he slammed the car door in the parking deck of the Marriott. “We got nothing out of nobody. Admiral Kaczewski stonewalled us. I think he knows where his son is. And Piper’s brother, more of the same.”
“Man, you need some sleep. I’ve never seen you so cranky.”
“I need some exercise,” Austin snapped. “I’m used to surfing every day.”
“Yeah, apparently you need that Zen bullshit to calm the hell down.”
“You might have ice water in your veins, Derrick, but I don’t.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Derrick growled. He hadn’t gotten any more sleep than Austin and apparently his fuse was also a bit short.
“Are we going to talk about what happened in Afghanistan?”
“Nothing happened in Afghanistan.”
“Derrick...”
The man exploded into action, slamming Austin back against their vehicle, his forearm across Austin’s throat. “I’m going to cut you some slack because we’ve been grinding this case for six days straight, but don’t ask me about Afghanistan, ever,” he said through clenched teeth. His dark eyes narrowed dangerously, so intense Austin broke the chokehold and pushed Derrick back.
Derrick looked at him and shook his head. “You’ve got some moves.”
“I was a marine, Gunn. I know how to handle myself. You might not have any respect for me, but I served, college on the GI Bill, computer counterintelligence at the Pentagon, graduate study at Cornell.”
Derrick looked away. “I never said I didn’t have respect for you, Austin.”
“All right, fine. I’ll mind my own business. But you need to get that shit out of your head and reconcile with it before it eats you alive.”
“Okay, buddy. I’ll do that if you tell me about that picture of the ambassador’s wife to Ja’arbah, a small country in the Middle East, you have tucked away in your desk drawer. Why don’t you tell me about the three days you two spent together in a life and death struggle? Why your engagement ended?”
That’s what happened when you poked a rattlesnake. You got bit and bit good. Austin shifted and took a breath.
“Yeah. Right. When I want life advice, I’ll ask my guru. Now instead of talking about crap neither one of us really wants to talk about, why don’t you haul your ass into some running gear and we’ll blow off steam, run the Mount Vernon Trail? Then the both of us are going to get some sleep. When we wake up and after we get coffee and a doughnut, you can put your freaking Cornell degree to work tracking down something we can use.”
Derrick walked away and Austin allowed himself to think of Jessica Webb for one hot second. As a marine he was duty bound to protect the ambassador and his family. His memory of those days should make him break out in a cold sweat. But instead, it wasn’t the danger and the combat or the struggle he remembered. It was soft skin and warm blue eyes, tousled short black hair and a voice like an angel that haunted his dreams.
He pushed off the car, compartmentalizing the memory back into a lockbox he kept closed. Derrick was right. Austin’s curiosity had gotten the best of him. Derrick’s personal life was none of his business.
They had a job to do and Austin’s gut told him Kaczewski and Jones were in way, way over their heads. There was something going on with this case and he was going to push until he found out who had orchestrated an attack on their marines and their navy SEALs. Who was gunning for Piper Jones and her brother?
The perpetrator didn’t need to watch his back, because Austin was coming right at him, a full-force frontal attack.
Suburbs of Washington, DC
“All this stuff is so not my style,” Piper said as she set the bags on the bed. “I’m used to suits and dresses and high heels, not cute tops, leggings, jeans, shorts and capris.”
“I think you look beautiful in anything and—” his voice dropped to a heated tone “—nothing. Clothes don’t define you, Piper. Wasn’t it you who wore a burka, then dressed as a man and slipped into Charikar right under their noses? Clothes are just covering for one awesome woman. So, we need to fly under the radar, and you need to change how you dress.”
“You look pretty comfortable in anything.”
He flashed her a grin. “And you can pass for a college kid.”
They had tried to reach Doug Utley several times, but he hadn’t answered. Night was falling and Piper wanted to take the next step. Feeling jittery, she knew she was safe here. Dex had taken every precaution, but it still felt like someone was breathing down her neck.
“Let’s give Mr. Utley another call,” she suggested as she dumped everything onto the bed. She had a great wardrobe in her Georgetown town house not far from here.
Dex pulled out the phone and dialed. “Mr. Utley,” he said. “We need to talk to you about the investigation you’re conducting for Tyler Keighley.” He listened for a few moments. “I’m working for his sister.” He listened and his eyes flicked to her. “We’d be interested in what you found. Petty Officer Keighley is...” He trailed off. “I see. Yes, we could be there in half an hour. See you then.”
He ended the call. “He heard about you in the news and he said he wanted to talk to you. He’s been trying to reach Ty, but of course the ambush information has been kept out of the media. He says he found something and can meet us at a coffee shop across from the Pentagon.”
They exited the subway at Pentagon City, Dex suggesting that they could duck into any of the many stations nearby. They were to meet up at the Lincoln Memorial if they got separated.
“I guess you know this city.”
“Born and raised, and my family loved Washington. It is our lifeblood. So yes, I know this city like the back of my hand.”
Dex was subtle about it, but she noticed how he kept his surroundings under constant scrutiny and monitored everyone around them.
“We can go scope out the street and coffee shop before we commit ourselves to anything that looks sketchy.”
“Good thinking.”
Piper settled the ball cap on her head, pulling her hair through. She was dressed in jeans, sneakers and a cute gray T-shirt with black lettering that said, “Wake Up. Kick Ass. Repeat.”
The street was crowded with people going in and out of the busy mall. Everything was lit up.
“I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t know this city that well, except for areas around the Pentagon and Arlington Cemetery. Too much of Arlington Cemetery,” he said with a sad cast to his voice. “And I’ve been to the White House a couple of times.”
“You toss that out like it’s an everyday occurrence to meet the president, when I know it’s not. Medals, right?”
He turned to look at her as they approached the coffee shop.
“Yeah...medals.” He changed the subject. “If I were ever t
o be a politician, I don’t know how I’d like living here.”
“You could never be a politician,” she said. “You can’t twist the truth to save your life.”
He chuckled as they hit the plaza. “He did say Coffee Now,” she murmured.
Dex took her hand and smiled. They were just a couple enjoying a walk from their hotel to take in the sights of Pentagon City.
A shot rang out just as they got to the front doors of the café and Dex pulled her back against the building. A man, dressed in black and a hoodie obscuring his face, emerged from a parked car. When he saw them, he raised the gun he was holding and suddenly she and Dex were in the assassin’s sights.
Chapter 13
Dex started moving. The guy in the hoodie moved along with them, cutting off their access to the subway. Reaching to the small of his back and grabbing the grip of the handgun, Dex pulled it free and thumbed the safety. People ran and the bastard ducked into the crowd, effectively blocking any attempt he had of taking the guy out. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to run him down, but he couldn’t leave Piper. Dex pulled her across the street. He raced through the parking lot. The Pentagon was straight ahead, the illumination of the 9/11 Memorial flickering as they ran.
“This way,” Piper said, and they veered off, crossing over the GW Parkway, and didn’t slow down. Skirting Arlington Cemetery, they curved around, heading for the Memorial Bridge. Dex looked behind him and a bullet pinged off metal. They hit the edge of the span, sprinting straight out. Piper was visibly laboring, but Dex was barely feeling the burn. When they reached the other side, huge bronze sculptures of two knights on horseback flanked either side of the bridge and she looked fearfully over her shoulder as they passed. Dex pulled her to the side and the dark figure chasing them slowed to a walk. The man who had been chasing them raised his arm, bringing the gun up and he pulled the trigger. Piper gasped in Dex’s ear.
“Let’s hot foot it to the Foggy Bottom subway stop,” he growled. She nodded.
There was a shout from behind the assassin and two running figures started after them.
They took off as the assassin’s gun discharged again, using the cover of the bridge until they were farther down the trail. Dex turned to shoot at the running men, joggers from the look of them. Then the assassin headed after them.
Dex lost sight of all three of their pursuers as they looped around and came up behind the glowing Lincoln Memorial, with the past president forever cast in marble sitting on that huge chair. He grabbed her hand as they cut across the memorial, but the assassin materialized and cut them off from Foggy Bottom. Changing direction, they raced down the side of the reflecting pool toward the Washington Monument.
Dex got off two shots, but the guy was constantly moving and it was hard to get a bead on him. They sprinted across Constitution Avenue with horns blaring, the hooded figure keeping pace.
Sirens sounded in the distance and he increased his stride, pelting down Seventeenth straight for the Farragut West Metro Station. When Dex looked back, he was no longer behind them, and Dex stopped and pressed up against the building. The two joggers materialized at the head of the street.
His chest heaving, he took her by the shoulders and said, “I want you to make for McPherson Square,” he said, panting.
“Dex, no. Lafayette is right across the street.”
“Go, Piper. Don’t argue with me.”
Her face contorted and she left him. Dex ducked down E Street and took a right on Eighteenth, slowing. He checked every alley and possible hiding spot, but it looked like the bastard was gone.
He loped to the Farragut West Metro, approaching with caution. He heard a shout for him to stop, but he got on the escalator and jumped down, two stairs at a time, until he reached the underground tunnel leading to the turnstiles. He stuck the handgun into the small of his back, keeping his eyes peeled for the assassin, but moving fast. He slipped his pass through and got onto the platform, looking around as the two men had to stop and get tickets before they could get on the metro. But instead they jumped the turnstiles, causing the metro cop to come barreling out of his booth. No sign of the shooter.
Luckily a train was pulling up as the two guys argued with the metro cop. Dexter got on board and pulled out his burner, dialing Piper. When she answered, his breath rushed out in relief.
“Are you okay?” she said in a rush.
“Yes, I’m on the train and there’s no sign of him. Where are you?”
“The train’s here. I’ve got to go.”
“Meet me at Metro Center.”
The phone went dead and he wasn’t sure if she heard him.
It was a tense ride all the way to the Metro Center. He got off and he saw her standing in the shadows by the stairs. When she saw him, she rushed out and he ushered her up the escalator and out of the station.
They made their way two blocks over, then hailed a cab, got out about a mile from the safe house and hoofed it the rest of the way.
Once they were inside, Dex locked the door and set the alarm, then he pulled Piper against him. He was trembling, not from reaction or adrenaline, but abject fear for Piper. They held each other for a long time and Dex was quite aware that he was harboring more than just simple feelings for her. He was getting deeply attached.
She pressed her face against his and he captured her chin and tilted her head up.
He kissed her then, sliding his fingers into her hair, displacing the cap, stripping off the elastic band.
“Dex...”
“Let me,” he murmured, splaying his hand against her face, tilting with his thumb beneath her chin, placing kisses along her jaw to the downy hair at her temple. She sighed and tipped her head back, and he was torn between tenderness and desire.
He slid his hands to the nape of her neck, sent his fingers into her hair and tipped her mouth up to his again.
Finally, he was able to let her go. He clasped her hand and went and turned on the news.
There was an aerial view of Pentagon City with tons of flashing police cars.
A woman anchor came on and said, “Police are combing the streets looking for a shooter, a man in a black hoodie and dark pants. It’s believed that he shot and killed Douglas Utley while he sat in his car outside this Coffee Now. Mr. Utley was a private investigator by trade and at this time the police believe it was a simple carjacking. This is Wanda Donovan reporting from Pentagon City, back to—”
He shut off the TV and knew what he had to do. “It’s clear this whole conspiracy goes deep and is connected to your car accident. I’ve got to get to that PI’s office before the police.”
“Okay,” Piper said.
“No, Piper. Alone. I want you to stay here. We have no idea if that guy followed Mr. Utley and we were the targets all along. I want you safe.”
“Hell, no! I have to go. If this is about my accident and someone murdered Brad, they also are the murderer of my child! Whoever killed him robbed me. I can’t have any more children. I want justice. I want someone to pay for this! They took my life. My future.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as she sobbed against him. “I know. I know. I’m so sorry. He could be waiting for us there.”
“We have to risk it. If we don’t find something... Dex...”
“All right. But do exactly what I say, and if I tell you to run, you run.”
She looked mutinous.
“Piper...”
“All right, but I want a weapon.”
He walked out of the room and into the bedroom they were sharing. He pulled out the suitcase and retrieved the handgun he’d brought back with him from Afghanistan, then checked the safety. Back out in the living room, she was standing there, looking like her world had caved in.
He took her wrist and set the weapon in her hand. “Y
ou comfortable with this?”
She looked down at the gun, then up at him. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Doug Utley’s office was located on a residential street in a nondescript neighborhood. They once again used the metro, with so many escape possibilities. It was better than a car that could be traced right back to his father. They approached down the dark street and luckily there were no cop cars.
Dex led Piper to the back of the house. A dog barked in the distance and Dex opened the screen to the back door and tried the knob. It was open. He looked over his shoulder and whispered, “Be careful and stay close.”
They entered, the door squeaking. Whoever was here had to have heard that, but they needed whatever information Utley had. Now that he was dead, there was only his office and hopefully his computer to help them figure out the mystery and free Piper from a death threat.
Every sense in his body was heightened as he made his way slowly through the kitchen. They entered a short hall with closed doors. Checking everywhere before he moved, he went to the first door. Opening it, he found it was the powder room. The next room was a closet. He crossed by the open living room area, scanning for any movement, but there was nothing. No sound except the barking dog. Piper’s hand was clenched into his T-shirt.
Together they crept down to the end of the hall and Dex turned the knob. Standing to the side, he pushed the door open.
Dismay rushed through him. Utley’s office was a mess. He ducked inside and brought Piper in with him before he closed the door. There was no one there, but the person who had chased them at Pentagon City had done what he needed to do.
Dex found Utley’s laptop under the desk, smashed beyond repair. The back was pried off, the hard drive of the machine gone.
He swore soft and low.
He heard a footfall on the front porch, then knocking. He moved the curtain and saw one of the joggers who had chased him into the metro.
