Terms of Engagement

by Kylie Brant

  “Hey, you! Where’s your boss?”

  Lindsay eyed the man carefully, but he wasn’t paying any attention to her. His gaze was fixed on one of the “workers” on the scaffolding.

  “Foreman should be here soon.” Staying in character, the responding officer continued to slap bricks on the exterior of the structure.

  “I don’t care about your damn foreman. I’m talking about Patten, the owner.”

  “He doesn’t show up on-site often. I wouldn’t expect today to be any different.”

  “Well, apparently he doesn’t show up at his office, either, since he doesn’t return my phone calls. Where can I find him?”

  “Stay where you are,” Jack advised through the mic. “We don’t have a clear view into his vehicle.”

  After a few more minutes it was clear, at least to her, that the stranger was no more than another client of the construction company’s, and a disgruntled one at that. After several minutes of shouting at the “worker” on the scaffolding, he got back into his car and squealed away, turning toward the exit.

  “Okay, false alarm.” Jack’s voice held a note of humor. “It’s nine-forty-five. Let’s get back in place.”

  Feeling as though she were baking in the heavy body armor, Lindsay moved back out into the center of the lot. Another forty minutes crawled by, but no one else approached the parking lot.

  Niko wasn’t coming.

  “Okay, he’s a game player, you say.” Telsom’s visage was grim. “Maybe this is a ploy to throw you off stride. In that case he has to believe you’ll contact him again.”

  “It’s possible.” Lindsay leaned against the car she’d driven there, emotionally drained. The adrenaline high had seeped out of her with a suddenness that left her legs feeling like water. “He’d want me to know who was calling the shots. He wouldn’t have liked me making demands.”

  “So he’ll try again.” The captain’s ruddy face was damp. “Langley will take you back to his place. We’ll convene again in a couple hours and discuss our next move.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “That all right with you, Ms. Feller?”

  She nodded, and he walked briskly away. Seeing Jack heading her way, she rounded the car to allow him to drive. That would free her to get out of this vest before it suffocated her. She didn’t know how the officers could stand wearing it with its additional weight.

  Jack got in and adjusted the seat while she divested herself of the sweatshirt. “You did great today.”

  “Lot of good it did us.” She felt like one giant knot of nerves, and that, dammit, was probably exactly what Niko had intended. To keep her off guard and anxious. Easier to manipulate.

  As Jack pulled out of the lot, she struggled out of the vest. The tactics would have worked on the woman Niko had known three years ago, she admitted silently. But the life she’d lived since had hardened her in ways he could never imagine.

  “There will be another contact. He can’t afford to waste a lot of time. He’s got a business back in New York City, right? He isn’t going to want to spend a lot of time away from it. He’s jerking you around, trying to keep you off balance.”

  “So what’s the next step?”

  “Telsom’s calling the shots there.” Jack checked his mirrors before changing lanes. “I’m guessing once you talk to Rassi again, he’s going to set the time and place. Show you who’s running the show. So we’ll have to get a list of possible sites you’ll agree to and arrange the same sort of scene all over again. Different date and time.”

  Lindsay leaned forward and flipped the controls to the air-conditioner to full blast. Even the tepid air flowing from the vents felt cool to her heated skin. “I want it over,” she muttered, leaning her head back against the headrest. One way or another, she wanted to be free to go on with her life. Whatever that might entail. Things really hadn’t changed at all. Just like the last thirty-eight months of her life, Niko Rassi was still calling the shots.

  “I’m going up to grab a shower.”

  While Lindsay entered the house ahead of him, Jack turned to check the car parked across the street. He could make out the figure of the officer behind the wheel. It was tedious and boring work, but he was glad Telsom had insisted on keeping the surveillance team in place.

  Entering the town house, he locked the door behind him and crossed to the kitchen. Although a cold beer would taste damn good right now, he’d have to settle for water, since he was on duty. He withdrew two bottles from the refrigerator and went to the stairs, calling, “You want a bottle of water?”

  Her muffled response could have meant anything, so he trotted up the steps to her room. “I’m also quite helpful in the shower capacity, if you’re—” He came to a halt in her doorway, the rest of the sentence freezing on his tongue.

  Niko Rassi stood behind Lindsay, his arm wrapped around her throat, his hand clapped over her mouth. He wore an MCPD uniform.

  And he had a gun pressed against her temple.

  “A cop, Gracie?” He jammed the weapon harder against her skin. “You crawled in bed with a cop? My disappointment with you continues to mount.” To Jack he said, “You’ll want to take that weapon out of your harness there, Detective. Two fingers.”

  Slowly, Jack did as he was told, his mind racing. He hadn’t been completely through the house, but Rassi must have come in the back. Which didn’t explain how the hell he’d gotten by the surveillance team. But with dread pooling in the pit of his stomach, he had a suspicion.

  “Good. Now toss it on the bed.” When Jack did so, he walked Lindsay over a few feet, let go of her to reach for the gun and thrust it into his waistband. “Now let’s see you lift your pant legs. I’m going to need your secondary weapon, as well, Detective. Let’s not play games.”

  “Looks like you were a step ahead of us all the way,” Jack said conversationally, taking his time withdrawing the second weapon. After one quick glance at Lindsay he kept his gaze firmly trained on Rassi. The desolation in her eyes was like taking a blade through the chest.

  “It could have been played a number of ways, but it never pays to underestimate a beat reporter’s hunger for a headline.” Smugness sounded in his voice. “All it took was a call to the local rag. Convince the reporter on the cop beat that he had a chance to share a byline on CNN, and…” He lifted a shoulder. “His source discovered where Ms. Bradford was staying. Leaks. Departments are all full of them.”

  The roaring in his ears was playing hell with his thought processes. “He get you that uniform, too?” The shirt was a little tight, he noted. The pants a couple inches too short.

  “This? Courtesy of the officer on duty in the car out back. He won’t be needing it anymore. Now.” He tapped the muzzle of the gun against Lindsay’s skull. “I believe Gracie has something of mine she needs to return before she and I leave here.”

  “I gave it to you.” Lindsay’s voice was steady as she looked at Jack. “For safekeeping, the first night I was here. Remember?”

  She hadn’t given him anything that night, he recalled, but he’d taken a couple things. And hidden the gun and the money so she couldn’t take off. “I remember. It’s in my room.” He made as if to move. “I’ll just go and—”

  “Don’t be stupid. Keep your hands where I can see them and we’ll all go together.”

  Jack headed toward his bedroom, with Rassi pushing Lindsay after him. “Kneel down at the foot of the bed,” Rassi ordered him. “Hands behind your head.”

  A hundred plans ran through Jack’s mind. None rated above desperate. He knew what Lindsay was planning, but he’d ejected the cartridge from her gun. Stashed them in two different places. There was no way she was going to be able to get to both of them and load the gun to use it on Rassi. “I know I put it in the closet. But damned if I can recall if I put it on the top shelf or in the toe of my black boot.”

  “Don’t jerk me around, Detective. You’re expendable, remember?”

  Hands still on his head, he turned to look at the other m
an. “The hell of it is, I can’t remember. Got a head injury in the Metrodome explosion a few months back and my short-term memory is crap.”

  Rassi studied him carefully, then gave Lindsay a push. “Look for it.”

  Intent on a diversion, Jack turned to face him as the man moved to keep Lindsay in his sights. “Maybe you and I can work something out.”

  With an ugly laugh, the other man said, “You cops are all the same. Always looking for the payoff.”

  From the corner of his eye, Jack could see Lindsay on all fours, his boot in her hand. “And why the hell shouldn’t I be? Know what I got from my department after my injury? Ten percent of the medical bills, that’s what I got. These memory lapses might be permanent, the doctor says. Get injured in the line of duty and what do I get to show for it?”

  “It’s not here,” Lindsay reported.

  “Then pull that chair over and get your ass up to check the shelf.” Rassi narrowed a look at Jack. “You better not be jerking me around.”

  “I can help you here.” Did Lindsay have the clip? He had to believe she did. Had to hope that she had some sort of familiarity with the gun he’d taken out of her bag and could load it quickly and silently. Because their options were pretty dismal, otherwise. “The way I figure it, you’re going to need help getting out of town. Your picture’s all over the department. Been distributed to the airports.”

  “Has it now?” A small smile crossed Rassi’s lips. But his attention was focused on Jack, just as he’d planned. “Thanks for the tip. Guess I won’t be using that return flight after all.”

  “I can arrange for a clean car. Flawless ID. A place to stay that will keep you out of the public eye until then.”

  “And all for the low price of…” Rassi’s voice was bitter. “What do you California cops go for? Because the ones in New York are greedy bastards.”

  “We can work that out.”

  “Frankly, Detective, I don’t need you.”

  “Actually, you do. I can tell you what’s waiting for you in New York.” And it was his turn to look smug at the arrested expression on Rassi’s face. “See, we matched the ballistics on the slugs you fired and the shell you left behind to some unsolved homicides in New York. Now, once we get through the security films from the nearby airports—you flew here, right?—we’ve placed you here at the time of the shooting.”

  He’d given Rassi something to think about. He could tell from the expression on the man’s face. But before he could say anything else, Lindsay said, “I found it.”

  There was a fraction-of-a-second opportunity when Rassi’s attention shifted to her. Jack didn’t waste it. He dove at the man’s knees in a low tackle, knocking him off balance.

  Rassi cursed, stumbled and fired. The shot came so close Jack could feel the heat of the bullet kissing his cheek. And the two of them crashed to the floor, rolled. Grappled for the gun. Jack sent a fist into Rassi’s face, felt the satisfying crunch of bone on bone. The other man flailed beneath him, half turning over, but Jack continued landing blow after blow, all the pent-up fury at the man embodied in each hit. Everything he’d cost Lindsay. All the loss. The terror. Every minute of anguish he was going to pay for if Jack had to pound it from him one fist at a time.

  Until Rassi rolled again to face him, this time with the weapon pointed directly at his face. Jack scrambled to his feet, inching away. Watched the man’s finger tighten on the trigger.

  “You’re going to want to rethink that, Niko.”

  Jack saw Lindsay circling toward them, gun held in both hands. Slightly shaky hands, he noted sickly, but her expression was determined. “Put the gun down. Slowly.”

  Rassi looked from Jack to Lindsay. “He’s a dead man before you fire a shot. And then you’re next.”

  “You can’t get off two shots before I put one in your brain. That’s how you work, right? One shot center of the forehead. Doesn’t take a whole lot of skill from this distance. But your job doesn’t rely on skill, does it? It just takes a soulless, gutless coward.” Her voice was filled with loathing. “Drop the gun.”

  Because he never took his eyes off Rassi, Jack saw the man’s intent in his expression before he moved. With blinding speed he turned the gun on Lindsay.

  “Watch out!”

  The shot sounded before Jack had gone more than two steps toward her. For one panic-stricken second he froze, half expecting to see her crumple before him.

  Comprehension followed an instant later as he swung toward Rassi. And saw the crimson blooming in the center of Rassi’s shirt. Carefully, Jack stepped over his body to take the gun from his hand. “Call 911.”

  But Lindsay wasn’t—big surprise—following orders. She came closer, weapon lowered but still chambered, to stare down at Rassi. Jack checked the man’s vitals, grabbed a pillow from the bed to stanch the flow of blood.

  “That’s a kick, isn’t it?” Rassi’s gaze was on Lindsay, his words slurred. “Innocent little Gracie. In the end, you’re no different than I am.”

  “You’re wrong.” Jack heard the thickness in her voice. “If I were like you I’d put another bullet in you and end your miserable life. I prefer to think of you spending the rest of your days playing ‘hide the soap’ in the prison shower.”

  Her whole body trembled then, and Jack knew the shock was just hitting her. “Lindsay.” He kept his voice gentle. “If you want to see him live long enough to wind up bunk buddies with a three-hundred-pound hillbilly named Bubba, you need to make that call.”

  Keeping the pressure steady on the wound, he gave Rassi a sardonic grin. “Personally, I could be convinced either way.”

  “Well, that should be all.” Captain Telsom flipped his notebook closed and rose to signal the rest of the team. “CSU’s done here and I think we are, too. Detective Langley can bring you down later for a formal statement.” He shot a look at Jack. “Maybe you both ought to be checked out by the ER first.”

  “No!”

  “That’s not necessary.” Their protests came simultaneously, but after a look from Jack, Lindsay subsided. “I would like to give…Ms. Feller the opportunity to rest before bringing her in. This whole thing has been a shock to her system. She’s bound to crash soon.”

  “She is standing right here and perfectly capable of speaking for herself.” Lindsay shot Jack a withering glare before addressing the captain. “I’ll be down shortly.”

  “We’ve got what we need for now, but don’t take too long. With Christmas in a couple of days, things at the station will be crazier than usual.” His glance at Lindsay was accompanied by a slight smile. “I image you’ll want to spend the holiday in Wisconsin.”

  Stunned, Lindsay watched him follow the officers out the door. She was free to visit her family. To spend Christmas with them. Joy filled her.

  She turned to Jack then, and another thought occurred. “Any chance of getting my gun back?”

  His incredulous look was its own response. “I don’t think I’d push it. Under the circumstances, we’re going to have to do a fast shimmy to avoid charges. Carrying concealed. No permit. Best not to mention it at all to the captain.”

  She felt like kicking something. “That cost me a month’s worth of tips at Joe’s Coffee Stop.”

  “I can imagine.”

  It was amazing sometimes, she thought, inwardly squirming, how much he could look like a cop.

  “Bought it for cash out of the trunk of a car in a back alley from some guy named Bruno?”

  Because that was closer to the truth than she wanted to admit, she merely sniffed. “His name was Lenny.”

  His smile held a sharklike quality. “Even worse. So no. The gun is gone. Get used to it.”

  She supposed, in the great scheme of things, the weapon was of little importance. “I suppose I don’t need it anymore.” That thought would take some getting used to. She leaned against the arm of the couch, considering. “It represented…I don’t know. Me taking my life back, maybe. Made me feel less vulnerable.” Hadn’t
conquered her fears, hadn’t come close, but it had given her a way to combat them.

  “At least you took the time to learn to use it.”

  “Wouldn’t have been much point, would there, to buy a gun and still not be able to defend myself?” Her throat clenched then. She’d never thought that she’d be using it to save someone, though. And the memory of Niko holding his weapon on Jack would take a long time to dissipate.

  “I should probably tell you that some guys would get all macho at the thought of a girl saving their lives.”

  She watched him carefully. He was kidding. She was almost certain of it. “I’m sure you’re more enlightened than that.”

  He gave a slow nod. “As it happens, I am. I can appreciate the instinct. Especially since I came damn close to throwing myself in front of you when it looked like he was going to squeeze a shot off.”

  Her knees went weak at the thought. “That would have been incredibly stupid.”

  “That’s the thing about instinct.” There was a heat in his eyes that was warming her from the inside out. “No thought involved.”

  Lindsay watched, mesmerized, as he sauntered toward her.

  “Like the instinct I had the first time I met you.” He stopped in front of her.

  “To try every conceivable way to get me into bed?”

  He smiled easily, reached for her hand. “There was that. But I’m talking about my highly developed cop instinct. Honed by years on these dangerous streets.” She smiled a little at his droll tone. “Those instincts told me there’s more to this lady than meets the eye.” His thumb skated across her knuckles caressingly. “I thought, I wonder what she’s trying to hide behind those prim clothes.”

  It was difficult to concentrate when nerve endings were bursting to life beneath his touch. “Ah…so that’s what you were looking for when you got me naked.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve got an inquiring mind. And a noble streak, too.” He gave a tug and she was on her feet, in his arms with dizzying speed. “See, I feel an obligation to keep you off the streets. A woman like you…packing a concealed weapon. You’re a threat to society.”