Kick A** Heroines Box Set: The UltimatumFatal AffairAfter the DarkBulletproof SEAL (The Guardian)

by Karen Robards

  “What? I don’t like that look.”

  His gaze snapped back to her face. “Dawson knows you’re alive.”

  “Y-yes?” She squared Belinda’s phone on the table and clasped her hands between her knees.

  “He might try to get word to the CIA—anonymously, of course.”

  “Why would the Agency believe a man who faked his own death in North Korea and set up his partner to take the fall as a traitor?”

  “What if he already beat us to the punch? What if the CIA already got a tip that Rikki Taylor is alive and well and skulking around Savannah, and is taking action?” Quinn paced to the window and back to the TV, his long stride eating up the space in a few steps.

  Rikki’s eyes wandered to the window of their dumpy motel and fixed on a road sign across the street. “You mean like right now?”

  “We need to get out of this town and back to New Orleans.” Quinn stopped in midturn. “Does Dawson know much about me? Where I live?”

  “I never told him anything. He knew we were…together in Dubai, and he probably knew your name and knew that you were a SEAL from asking around, but I doubt if he got any personal info on you, and I certainly didn’t tell him anything like that.”

  “Navy’s not going to give him any details about me, but then he’s CIA. He can get those details his own way.”

  Rikki shook her head. “I don’t think he would’ve done that, and he can’t do it now.”

  “Let’s head back tonight.” He grabbed the remote from the bed. “You up for an all-night drive?”

  “To get out of Savannah? Hell, yeah.”

  Quinn clicked on the TV. “We don’t even know if Belinda made it or not.”

  “I’m sure she did. From the blood pooling, it looked like she got hit in the back. Although she was losing a lot of blood, she was conscious and the EMTs got right to work on her.”

  Quinn flipped through the channels until he settled on some local news. “We may have missed the story. It must’ve been the lead.”

  “The hospital won’t tell us anything.” Rikki pushed herself up from the chair and stood in front of the TV with her arms crossed. Even though Belinda Dawson had tried to poison her, Rikki couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. She must really love David to keep his secrets, secrets that could get her charged with espionage, and then to believe the man you loved, the man you’d protected, was obsessed with someone else must be torture.

  Rikki had watched her mother bounce from man to man, putting her faith in love time after time only to have her heart broken. No man was worth that kind of pain.

  Rikki’s gaze slid to Quinn, perched on the foot of the bed, hunched forward. He was different from any man her mom had followed around the world. Sincere. Loyal. Family-oriented.

  And he didn’t know he had one.

  His head jerked to the side. “What?”

  “Just thinking about Belinda.” Rikki gathered her hair into a ponytail. “When do we get out of here?”

  “As soon as you can throw your stuff together. We can eat on the road.”

  “Have you heard anything more from Chan about David’s emails?”

  “Not yet. Did you send that picture of Dawson to your phone?”

  As she reached for Belinda’s phone on the table, Quinn said, “Wait. Better yet. Send that picture to my phone, and I’ll send it along to Ariel. My phone is untraceable and won’t come up on anyone’s radar. We don’t want that photo leaking out. Dawson’s not going to know we have it, and we don’t want to clue him in.”

  Rikki cupped Belinda’s phone in her palm. “David knows I’m alive, but does he realize that I know he’s alive?”

  “I’m assuming Belinda told him, right?” He grabbed his phone and aimed it at her. “Send it.”

  “She didn’t really say one way or the other. I guess if she told him about my seeing the picture, he’d know that I figured it out.” She tapped the phone to text the picture to Quinn’s number. “Why?”

  “Just wondering if Dawson would try to contact you.”

  Heat prickled across her skin, and she dropped the phone. It clattered on the table. “Why would he?”

  Quinn lifted one shoulder. “To make some kind of overture.”

  “Overture?” Rikki’s eye twitched and she rubbed it. “What kind of overture could he make with me now after setting me up as a traitor to the CIA and arranging to have me killed? How do you start that conversation?”

  He joined her at the table and rubbed her back. “I hope you don’t have to find out.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” She held up Belinda’s phone. “I’m taking this with me. Who knows what else I can discover on here?”

  Quinn dragged his bag from the closet floor. “Any texts?”

  “Just a couple with some girl talk.” Rikki pocketed Belinda’s phone. “I wonder what all of Belinda’s good, good friends would think about her if they knew she ran around poisoning drinks and covering for her traitor husband.”

  “They’re going to find out soon enough once we get this investigation in official hands. That woman’s going to get hers for trying to kill you.”

  Rikki pressed her lips together as she started packing. Having Quinn on her side gave her a warm glow in her belly.

  Quinn had given her something else in her belly eighteen months ago, and she planned to tell him all about that little miracle when they got back to New Orleans.

  * * *

  AS THEY HEADED out of Savannah, Rikki dug Belinda’s phone from her pocket. “I’m going to look through this while it’s still working. Once Belinda realizes her phone is missing, she’ll have it deactivated.”

  “We don’t even know if she’s dead or alive. The most recent report I saw on my phone was that someone had been critically injured in that shooting, nothing about a fatality.”

  “I think if she’d died it would’ve made the news. Nothing about a suspect?”

  “He’s not going to be caught, and if she survives, Belinda’s not going to implicate anyone.”

  Rikki rolled back the seat and wedged her bare feet against the glove compartment. “Do you mind?”

  “You can put your feet anywhere.” Quinn reached forward and caressed her ankle.

  She curled her toes and almost purred. Instead, she thumbed through Belinda’s pictures. “No more suspicious photos. Either that’s the only one David sent her, or she deleted the rest.”

  “We lucked out with that one.”

  “Yep.” She squinted at the text messages as she scrolled through each set. “No new messages, either. It’s creepy that there’s a text here to one of her friends about drinks the other night. Funny she doesn’t mention the poison.”

  “Yeah, that’s just what you want to tell your old friends. Meeting for drinks, and by the way, don’t mind the dead chick at the table.”

  Rikki tapped Belinda’s contacts and swept her finger down the list. One name flew by, and she gasped.

  “What?”

  “One of her contacts.” Rikki dragged her finger back up the names and stopped on the most important one. “Frederick Von.”

  “You’re kidding.” Quinn flexed his fingers on the wheel of the car. “Dawson should’ve trained his wife better in the rules of espionage.”

  “Who would know the name of David’s villain in an unpublished work of fiction? Besides, I’m sure he believed Belinda would never come under suspicion, that he’d never come under suspicion.”

  “And yet here they are—under suspicion.” Quinn cranked his head to the side. “What are you going to do about it?”

  She held the phone between both of her hands as if in prayer. “You think I should call him?”

  “I do.”

  “If I do, I’m going to play nice.” She tapped her steepled fingers against her chin. “I’m going to pretend I don�
�t know he set me up.”

  Quinn raised his eyebrows as he studied the road in front of him. “Do you think he’s gonna believe that?”

  “I’ll make him believe it. Why would I think he set me up? I thought he’d been killed, I was captured by the North Koreans, and I don’t know anything about the CIA trying to take me down as a traitor.”

  “Devil’s advocate here.” He tapped his chest. “If you don’t know he set you up, why haven’t you gone straight to the Agency? Why are you floundering around Louisiana and Georgia?”

  She held up one finger. “I didn’t say the CIA didn’t think I was a traitor. I just don’t know why they think I’m one.”

  “He’s gonna be suspicious as to why you don’t believe it’s him. He faked his death, you were captured, there was no Vlad.”

  “I just thought he died and we were both played.”

  “Do you think he’ll believe you?”

  Rikki dipped her head to hide her warm cheeks behind a veil of hair. “I think I can make David Dawson believe anything if I put my mind to it.”

  The silence stretched between them, and Rikki peeked at Quinn’s hard profile.

  He cleared his throat. “Then do it.”

  She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead despite the air-conditioning blasting her face. With an unsteady finger, she tapped Frederick Von and then put the phone on Speaker, even though she really didn’t want Quinn listening to this conversation.

  The phone rang, and Rikki clutched the seat’s armrest. It rang several more times before a pleasant recording told her the phone’s owner didn’t have voice mail set up.

  Rikki snorted. “I’d like to hear that voice mail greeting.”

  “Try again later. We have no idea where he is or what time zone he’s in.” He hunched forward and rapped a knuckle against the windshield. “Let’s stop for some food and knock out the rest of this trip.”

  Four hours later and halfway through the drive, Rikki poked through one of the bags from the fast-food restaurant they’d driven through for dinner. “Do you want the rest of these French fries?”

  “Are you hungry again? We can stop. We’re making good time.”

  “Not really.” She stuffed one of the fries in her mouth and licked the salt from her fingers. “Just bored.”

  “Do you feel like driving?”

  “Too tired.”

  “Take a nap.”

  Belinda’s cell, which Rikki had tucked beneath her right thigh, buzzed to life. She grabbed the phone and felt the blood drain from her face. “It’s him.”

  “Are you ready?” Quinn put on his signal to pull into a rest area.

  Rikki licked her lips and nodded. “Hello?”

  The man’s voice, David’s voice from the grave, started before the first word left Rikki’s lips.

  “Belinda, what the hell are you doing calling me on this phone? I don’t care if you have me listed as Dr. Seuss. You don’t use this phone, especially not now.”

  “David, it’s Rikki.”

  He sucked in a breath across the miles. “Rikki? My God. It sounds like you. What was the name of the bartender our first night in Athens?”

  “Gypsy Rose.”

  A noisy rush of air gushed over the line. “Wh-when Belinda told me you were alive, I couldn’t believe it.”

  Rikki met Quinn’s gaze and dipped her chin once. David would admit nothing, whether he thought she believed him or not. She could do this.

  Squaring her shoulders, she pinned them against the seat back. “I felt the same way when I discovered you were alive.”

  “From the picture. You saw the picture. That’s what Belinda said. You knew. You knew me so well, you could tell it was recent.”

  Quinn made a sharp movement in the driver’s seat, and Rikki placed a hand on his thigh.

  They’d have to both get through this. “It was the tattoo, David.”

  “Of course.” He coughed. “What did Belinda tell you?”

  “Tell me? She told me nothing, but I saw the picture.”

  “Who was the man with you when you came to the house?”

  “A paid associate.” She squeezed Quinn’s knee. “He doesn’t know anything about what I’m doing.”

  David paused for two beats. “What are you trying to do, Rikki? Why aren’t you with the Agency…or are you?”

  “As far as I can tell, the Agency thinks I’m a traitor. That debacle in North Korea pretty much torpedoed both of our careers.” She paused herself. “Why aren’t you with the Agency? Where are you?”

  “Deep undercover. The Agency thinks I’m dead, and I want to keep it that way. But what happened to you? I’d heard from my guy in South Korea that you’d been killed.”

  David’s voice actually broke, and Rikki had to grip the phone harder to keep from throwing it out the window.

  “The North Koreans captured me.”

  “Oh my God. We both know what that means. How’d you escape?”

  “I had some help and some good luck. Seems like we both did.” For just a moment, the knots in Rikki’s stomach had loosened and it felt like old times talking with David about an assignment.

  She only had to glance at Quinn’s tight jaw to remember it wasn’t.

  “What have you been doing, David? Where are you? What happened to your lead on Vlad? Was it all counterintelligence?”

  “That’s the thing, Rikki. I’m hot on Vlad’s trail right now. This will be my ticket back to the Agency—mine and yours.”

  Quinn poked her in the ribs, but he didn’t have to prod her to encourage David in this line of thinking.

  “Your intel panned out?”

  “Once I escaped from the North Koreans, I buckled down and burrowed in. I’m getting ready to bring down Vlad and I couldn’t be happier that you’re alive to help me do it.” He cleared his throat. “Just like old times, Rikki, right? You want to do this with me, right?”

  Quinn jabbed her again, and she didn’t know if he approved or not, but Rikki refused to look at him—just in case he wanted to dissuade her.

  “O-of course, David. I’m in.”

  “You sound hesitant. You believe me, don’t you, Rikki? You believe I never meant our operation to go down like that—you captured, us split up.”

  “I… Yes.”

  “Of course things are a little different now, but we can work around all that.”

  “Different? You mean because we’re rogue agents instead of official ones with support from the CIA?”

  “There’s that…and the other matter. Your personal issue.”

  Quinn jerked in the seat beside her, and Rikki’s heart began to hammer painfully in her chest.

  “My personal issue?”

  “You know—the fact that you have a daughter now. You can’t try to tell me that little redheaded baby in Jamaica with your mother isn’t yours.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The roaring in Quinn’s ears sounded like a Mack truck coming up behind them in the rest stop. His gaze flew to Rikki’s face, a white oval in the darkness of the car.

  Quinn waited for the eye roll. The laugh. The denial.

  She stammered. “Wh-what are you talking about? You’re in Jamaica?”

  The bastard’s voice lowered, silky smooth. “I’m not in this alone, Rikki. As soon as Belinda told me the good news that you were alive and well and…snooping around Savannah with a big bodyguard type, I sent one of my associates out to Jamaica. You see how well we know each other? I remembered your mother was out there. I thought maybe we could get some information about you out of her, and my associate discovered something even better.”

  The only response Rikki could muster was a small gurgle, and Quinn clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth would break.

  No denial. It had to be true. A child? A b
aby? Did it happen in Korea? Good God, it couldn’t be David’s.

  David’s voice continued, and Quinn just wanted to punch the phone.

  “Don’t try to deny she’s yours, Rikki. I’ve only ever seen that hair color on one other person.” Dawson’s voice had an almost dreamy quality, and Quinn clenched his fists. “That, and we asked around. The locals are talkative, especially when cash is involved.”

  Rikki’s lips emitted small bursts of air, as if she couldn’t take in enough air to breathe. “Better?”

  “What?”

  “You said better. Why is discovering my…daughter better?”

  Quinn wanted to shake Rikki, but she hadn’t even looked at him since Dawson dropped the bombshell. Had she been raped in the labor camp? Quinn’s blood boiled in his veins.

  David sucked in a breath. “Having a child is a happy occasion, and she’s not a small infant. Although I don’t know much about babies, I do know yours must’ve been conceived before we left for Korea.”

  A shaft of pain pierced the back of Quinn’s head. He wanted to grab the phone and end the call. He wanted Rikki to look at him. He wanted her to explain.

  “Of course it’s happy.” Rikki leaned her head against the window. “I just don’t understand your interest in my child.”

  “Everything about you interests me, Rikki. Let’s just say, I need your help on this Vlad assignment. I’ve always needed you, Rikki.”

  “I’ll help you. Where are you?”

  “We’ll talk again later…partner.”

  “D-don’t you want to hear about Belinda? How I happen to have her phone?”

  “I don’t really care. Just keep it.”

  Quinn had been building to the boiling point during that call and wanted to pounce on Rikki with a million questions and accusations. But when Dawson ended the call, he sat there, staring out the window at the Alabama trees guarding the rest area, feeling like he’d been steamrollered.

  Rikki didn’t move, but mewling noises started coming from the other side of the car where she was huddled against the window.

  Quinn opened his mouth, but he couldn’t form any words, would probably sound like Rikki right now.

  He swallowed and tried again. “What’s going on? Whose baby?”