Everything else was a gray area, and Kell had been swimming upstream in the gray for most of his life.
Dylan continued, “I contacted the Mexican police station earlier—have a contact there who gave me some more intel. Found out that Chambers told them Teddie was on drugs and she’d come to him for help in kicking a coke problem. Said he was as surprised as anyone when she shot him. There’s video from inside the restaurant and a few people came forward after catching the action on their cell phones.”
“So he’s not pressing charges?” Kell asked, and Dylan shook his head. “That doesn’t mean he’s going to leave Teddie alone.”
“Is helping her something you’re both comfortable with?” Dylan asked, and Reid shrugged.
“Don’t act like you don’t have a choice,” Kell told him. “Do I?”
“You two need to work your shit out, and fast, or I won’t send you out together again,” Dylan said.
“You might not have to worry about sending Kell out again ever,” Reid said, and Dylan focused on Kell.
“Something to tell me?”
“No.” Kell’s jaw clamped tight after he ground out the word.
He knew what Reid was doing—trying to force his hand, press him into making a decision about whether he was staying or going.
Reid’s way of saying, If you’re staying, get your fucking head in the game.
No, he wasn’t being fair to his friend, and that hadn’t happened before Teddie appeared on the scene. “If you’re not into this …” Dylan continued.
“I’ll make sure you’re not the last to know,” Kell said, which could easily earn him a right hook from Dylan if they were in person.
But the man let it go without seeming ruffled at all. “Fix this,” he told them, ran his hand through his hair as he spoke. “All of it. I don’t give a shit how, just do it.”
For the first time, Kell noticed that Dylan was wearing a wedding band. “That for cover?”
Dylan held up his hand and stared at it, used his other hand to roll the band around. “No.”
Both Kell and Reid stared at him until he finally admitted, “Riley and I got married today.”
“Well, that’s something I thought I’d never see,” Reid commented.
“Me hitched?”
“You finding a woman willing to put up with your ass for a lifetime. Now, what else? You didn’t have to see us on Skype to tell us about Teddie’s father, or your marriage.”
Reid never minced words. But Dylan never talked before he was ready.
“What the hell’s up with the house I saw you bought?” Dylan asked, then took a long sip of the beer. “You’d better be able to sell the place fast.”
“It’s a great safe house under a dummy corporation.”
“We don’t need one with a hot tub.”
“Speak for yourself.”
Dylan muttered a few curses and then said, “Someone’s been running our names. I had Vivi do some checking. She came up with a few possibilities, but then the guy came forward and made it very clear who he was and what he wanted.”
Dylan looked so damned serious and both men instinctively stilled, listened intently as their friend and mentor told them about his own onetime mentor, a man named John Crystal, who’d come back to haunt Dylan, and probably his friends.
That type always made for the worst kind of enemy, and Dylan looked wrecked as he told them about Crystal’s sister, which appeared to have been his undoing, and then the three-million-dollar screw job that got Crystal in trouble with the Albanian Mafia.
“We’ve got a problem. It’s mine, but unfortunately it’s spilling over and I’d do anything to be able to tell you this in person. I don’t want you dragged into my shit, but it can’t be helped. Crystal’s come out of hiding and he’s evidently been watching me. Apparently, he pulled my credit card statements last month and found I’d purchased a ring. He made his contact through Riley. He waited until my life was as close to perfect as it’s ever been, and it’s going to be his joy to take it all away from me.”
“We won’t let that happen,” Reid said fiercely. “What’s his ultimate game?”
“He wants to take that money out of my hide, literally,” Dylan explained. “Even if I paid him, it wouldn’t be enough. He wants my debt in blood, he wants me to suffer. I don’t live my life any differently because I have an enemy, but I’ve already put you both in danger and I don’t want to risk leading Crystal to your new house. He’s already tracked you to Mexico somehow. I have no doubt he sent those men in the alley.”
“Shit,” Kell muttered, ran a hand through his hair.
Dylan looked frustrated as hell. “He’s playing cat and mouse. His favorite game. Crystal does it by using psy-op moves. He’ll comb your background looking for any kind of angle he can use to persuade you to do jobs for him—he used to like playing judge and jury, and no doubt he’s come even more unhinged during his forced isolation. He also finds out what makes you tick and uses that to fuck with you.” He pointed at Kell. “I think that makes you a prime target. If I’m right, he might’ve already talked to your parents.”
“Can we take him out, or does he have safeguards in place?” Kell asked, because a man like that sounded like he’d have things set up to continue to haunt Dylan in case Crystal was killed before his job was done.
“I don’t know who he’s working with, but I’m assuming he does.”
“So we capture him, then,” Reid said. “Save him for you.”
“I’m going to make sure I’m the one who finds him first. You guys need to get the girl across the border any way you can and figure her problem out from a safer place. We’re dealing with two separate shitloads of trouble and I’m not happy about either scenario.”
Kell felt sick instead of that usual rush of adrenaline at the threat of danger. Dylan looked grim and Kell knew that leaving the team wasn’t an option now. “We’re with you, D. You know that.”
“We all have a past. Figured you weren’t a Boy Scout, and we don’t run from shit like that,” Reid said, and Kell knew it wasn’t a dig at him at all, just an honest statement of their code.
Dylan didn’t smile, didn’t curse either. “Time to close ranks” was all he said, with a nod. “Take care of yourselves. Stay in touch.”
He turned his monitor off and Kell knew it was serious as hell, because Dylan was not the type to give news like this over a computer screen.
But the plan was in place. The men would remain scattered, with Mace and Caleb together with Sky and Vivi and Paige, and Dylan with Riley and Cam, and Kell with Reid. They’d decided months ago that this would be the best solution when a major threat hit them.
And Crystal was bigger than a major threat.
When Kell turned off their screen, Reid looked pointedly at him, “You get how dangerous she is, right?”
“Yes.” He wanted to help her anyway, would live on the edge for her, because it felt right. “You don’t trust me?”
“No, you don’t trust you,” Reid seethed. “Look, fuck her or don’t, but find me some reason we can trust her.”
He stormed away from Kell, and Kell stared up at the ceiling and then decided to go check on Teddie and—if possible—find what Reid was asking for.
He walked upstairs, rather than heading straight outside, and looked out the sliding glass doors, to see her sitting on the edge of the pool with her legs in the water. He wanted to join her, couldn’t for so many reasons, chief among them that breaking the news that there appeared to be strong proof her father had been in charge of the kidnapping schemes and was pushing the blame on others would ruin any mood. She’d never believe it anyway. Actually, at this point, he didn’t either.
Instead of going to the pool, he took a shower, tried to keep his mind off her and failed miserably. Used Reid’s iPad to search for photographs she’d shot before she’d taken a leave from the business to recover from the loss of her family.
At least that’s what the statement that w
itness protection made her release before she went into hiding.
They’d left an opening for her to slip back into her old life—they hadn’t killed her off. Explaining how you managed to come back from the dead was apparently a bitch and a half.
Her name and photographs were all over Google. He studied them. She was really good at what she did. There was heart and soul in there, passion.
There were some landscapes, but mainly faces. The children. All the pain, and still some of them were smiling.
It reminded him of Reid when the were younger—they had rarely been photographed but when they were, their eyes were so full of secrets, too old for their faces, so much so it was almost painful to see.
The photographs—some color, some black-and-white—were beautiful. Stark, stripped down, devoid of any subtlety. They were in your face, meant to make you start. She’d made it so they were hard to look at, but impossible to look away from.
A-fucking-mazing.
And she hadn’t been able to touch a camera in a year. It must be killing her.
As she’d told him, her camera was as vital to her as a limb—it was the way she related to the world, to herself. Her comfort, her joy.
No wonder she was so completely lost.
He had no doubt that if she tried hard enough, she could see right through him.
He’d been lucky that she’d been distracted so far. But she wouldn’t be forever.
Could he offer to let her see through him? See everything? He didn’t even want to do that himself, and so he shook that thought off and slid outside to the balcony to check on her again. He wasn’t expecting to find her swimming naked, the soft moonlight making the dark water look incandescent as she dove under again and again, moving from one side of the pool to the other. The water was dusky but the pool’s interior lights illuminated the shape of her body better than the noon sun.
Holy Christ. It was a waste having her behind the camera. She should be in front of it, posing naked. For him.
Right now.
He gripped the balcony’s railing, hard, rather than fist his cock.
She looked beautiful—perfect—and he watched the sleekness of her body, her wet hair break the surface, and wondered if she could feel him watching her.
She had to know one of them would be.
He stood there, letting himself get lulled into her peace.
What was it about her? She might still be hiding things about her life from him—and he was betting she was—but hell, he’d been lying to himself for years for survival. After all, that’s what survivors did. They didn’t ask themselves what they wanted from life, because it was a question they might never be able to fulfill.
What did he want from life?
He’d never asked himself that. It would be a long time until he got an answer, because he had no clue beyond stay alive and keep moving, not necessarily in that order.
When she’d come outside by the pool, Teddie had been both relieved that Kell had agreed to help her and angry that she needed his help. After letting her legs dangle in the water for a while, she stripped down and started swimming.
It was in the pool that all the grief and pain and guilt slid away, until it was only about the slight chill in the air, the smell of bougainvillea and the heated water welcoming her body. She dove under, swam as far as she could until she needed a breath. Broke the surface, the only sound the rippling of water and her soft laugh of delight.
That laugh reminded her of her old life and everything it had entailed.
The last time she’d gone swimming, she’d been on a shoot in the Amazon rain forest. She’d been called there to assist in a photo shoot with a well-known photographer whom she’d considered an idol. He’d been a bit of a prick, but still brilliant, and she’d gotten some wonderful shots—as well as amazing publicity from the deal.
Her room had been a private guesthouse with its own pool. After finishing up in the makeshift darkroom she’d created in the large bathroom—she still preferred the traditional method to digital photography—she’d stripped down and gone swimming, and she’d found peace, just like she did now.
Her old life had been about travel and adventure and helping others—she’d been wrapped up in her career and she’d thought she was completely happy with that.
Now she realized she’d been both fulfilled and lonely during those years and the profundity of that acknowledgment—and the fact that it took a tragedy to force her to admit it—made her sad.
And still Kell wouldn’t rest until he’d pulled everything from her.
If she as honest with herself, she’d admit that might be a relief. Until it happened, though, it would simply keep her on edge.
When she glanced up at the balcony where she and Kell had kissed earlier, she saw a figure standing there.
Kell. She could tell by his stance. He was watching. Staring. Maybe thinking of the way he’d kissed her.
She wasn’t used to being put on display like this. She was always the one behind the lens, ready to capture the picture, manipulate the space.
But she was the one being manipulated here, and she found herself liking it, wanted to give up control to this man.
He’s as hurt as you.
Why had it taken her so long to see it? Tapping into people’s emotions was crucial to her job. And if she thought about it, she’d clearly seen the vulnerability in his eyes, hidden well behind that stony glare, and she remembered the way his mouth felt against hers, the kiss welcoming and desperate all at once.
In response to that thought, she touched her lips. Thought about his touch on her body and wondered if he’d join her.
Wondered if maybe she should invite him.
But she’d courted enough danger for one night. And so she simply swam, content knowing that his eyes were on her.
CHAPTER
8
Grier spent the morning poring over Teddie’s file. She started by looking at some gruesome pictures of the murder scene from Khartoum, then she read Teddie’s interview.
Now she tapped her finger against the glossy print of the three men in the marketplace. Teddie had fingered them for the crime. She didn’t have any leads on Teddie yet, and although it hadn’t been more than seventy-two hours, a woman with no training of any sort shouldn’t be able to give them the slip for long.
She hadn’t used credit cards, touched her bank accounts or gotten in contact with anyone from her past as far as they could tell. If she’d made calls, it probably had been on a throwaway cell phone that was now long gone. And she had left behind almost everything in the small room she’d called home for the past year.
The room really sucked. And although she’d never met Teddie personally, Grier sat on her bed and imagined what things were like for her here.
Grier dealt more with fugitives than witness protection candidates, but she’d had enough experience with both to know there were many similarities between the two. Teddie straddled that line now. Whether or not she’d meant to shoot anyone was irrelevant. She had. And Grier needed to catch her.
The marshal who’d been in charge of Teddie’s case was a fourteen-year veteran named Al, and he was pissed.
“She never gave any indication she’d run. She followed the same routine the entire time she was here,” he told Grier now, having met her in Teddie’s room.
“Phone calls?”
“A few here and there that came filtered through her manager. People begging her to come out of retirement. She hasn’t touched a camera in a year.”
“You got too comfortable with her. It made you sloppy,” Grier told him. “She was gone twenty-four hours before you noticed.”
“She’s got no family, no real place to go,” the marshal pointed out, trying to cover his ass.
Grier got it. Budgets were tight and they were all spread too thin. But this was a major fuckup, pure and simple, and it was all going to rain down on her head. It was time to start tracking Teddie, culling cell phone numbers from her
records to see what they found. They’d tried to give her some privacy while the Khartoum authorities looked into the killing of her family.
Apparently, that wasn’t going well, if at all. Teddie was most likely frustrated, but she hadn’t given any indication that she’d try taking matters into her own hands.
Grier mused on Khartoum’s lack of progress on the drive back to the office, asked Jack to pull all Teddie’s records so she could do a read-through in order to really get inside the woman’s head.
She was in the process of doing so, emotions getting the best of her when she went over the details of Teddie’s family’s murders, just as Teddie’s emotions would’ve taken her over, when she spotted someone heading toward the glass door of her office.
He didn’t stop to knock.
The man was tall, with tawny-colored hair and amber eyes. The gaze and gait of a predator, albeit a very attractive one.
And he’d zeroed in on her.
How he’d simply been allowed to waltz through a restricted area was another story entirely, but she supposed he exuded a confidence that would’ve gotten him through easily enough with a military or law enforcement ID and a smile.
“I have some information you need on Teddie Lassiter’s case,” he said with no greeting.
Grier kept her voice and her expression neutral. “Why don’t you have a seat and let me take some general information from you?”
His mouth quirked to one side. “I don’t think so. I’d grab a pen and paper and start writing, because I’m only saying this once.”
She didn’t take her eyes off him as she pulled out a small notebook and pen from her back jeans pocket. “Go.”
He gave her an address outside of Ciudad Juarez. “She’s with two men—Kell Roberts and Reid Cormier—who are armed and dangerous.”
“Mercenaries?”
“Worse. Military.”
“Like you?”
There was that grin again. “No one’s like me, sweetheart. And don’t bother trying to follow me—you’ll never get close enough to catch me … unless I want you to.”
His dipped his head at her before he strode out like he didn’t have a care in the world—or a reason why he’d given her this information.
Night Moves: A Shadow Force Novel Page 11
