The Sniper

by Kimberly Van Meter

  “No need to apologize,” he said gruffly. “I get it.”

  A man of many words. She bit her tongue to keep from snapping again. Here she was trying to be the bigger person and he was uttering small quips and sound bites. Would it kill him to express a deeper thought? Particularly when they were facing mortal peril? What if this was their last possible chance to share their feelings?

  What feelings? A nasty voice reminded her. Nathan Isaacs wasn’t human. She settled her thoughts firmly before she completely lost control of her mouth again. Neither of them were overjoyed at being in forced proximity but both enjoyed breathing so they’d just have to make the best of things. She could handle being around Nathan for a short time, right? She’d just have to wrap her brain around the fact that he was her protector, not her ex-lover who broke her spirit and heart in one fell swoop.

  And she’d also have to ignore the memories of what it felt like to be beneath all that straining muscle, clutching at each other like love-drunk monkeys.

  Yeah, piece of cake.

  Chapter 6

  Nathan didn’t trust a silent woman—particularly one who had a history of being chatty. They’d returned to the cabin and Jaci had started to search for alternate clothing but the subtle frown etched on her brow told him her thoughts were elsewhere. Should he try and talk to her? Did she need to vent or something? The thing about being an assassin was that no one had ever accused him of being warm and sensitive. He pulled triggers for a living; he didn’t do touchy-feely unless it was of the naked variety.

  Yet he felt compelled to do something that might help Jaci get through this terrible predicament. “Do you want to talk?” he ventured, almost cringing.

  “No.”

  Thank God. No, wait. “Jaci, I know this is a stressful thing but we’re going to be all right.”

  “Please don’t patronize me,” she said in exasperation as she dropped an ugly oversize sweater that looked like a reject from the ’70s. “I know we’re in serious trouble. I’m trying to deal with it the best way that I can and in the meantime, I’m trying to find clothing that doesn’t look like something used as a costume for a community-theater melodrama. Who lived here? There’s not a single article of clothing that isn’t terribly dated or four times too big.”

  “I don’t know. I bought it a long time ago when I thought I’d need a safe house or a place to decompress. I’ve only been here a few times over the years, mostly between missions. The clothes I picked up at the local thrift store to make it look as if someone lives here. If someone were to peek through the windows, they’d see a lived-in place, which is a deterrent to anyone who might want to try and squat in a vacant house.”

  “There are no other human beings on this mountain. The only squatters you need to worry about are the bears and I don’t think they’re going to care if there are clothes in the closet.” She sighed and surveyed the pile of rejects. “I’m sorry but there’s nothing here that even fits. If we don’t find a way to get some clothes, I’m going to end up running around in my bra and panties the whole time.”

  His mind blanked at the idea and he nearly groaned out loud. Good God. He couldn’t let that happen. If he saw Jaci in nothing but her skivvies, he was likely to throw her down and bury himself inside that gorgeous body of hers—definitely a bad idea. He must have grimaced for Jaci sent him a hard scowl as she said, “Don’t worry. I’ll drape myself in a plastic tarp before I subject your poor eyeballs to my naked body. I do recall how disgusted you were with what I have to offer.”

  Ah, hell. If only she knew the truth. “I don’t need distractions,” he said instead, which only made her angrier and he cursed himself for being a clumsy clod when it came to saying the right thing. She stiffened and lifted her chin, her eyes glittering, and he knew she was about to tear him a new one so he cut her off before she could begin. “Jaci, before you get started...I’m going to say this and then leave it be. If you start prancing around in nothing but your skin, I can’t promise that I will keep my hands to myself. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman beneath me and you’ll do just fine. You getting me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “So you’re saying that you’re desperate enough to find me attractive? Gee, thanks.”

  Hell, that’s not what he meant at all. He dreamed of holding Jaci in his arms again. He got hard just thinking of the times he’d been lucky enough to have had the privilege of peeling her clothes from her lush body. But he couldn’t keep her safe if he didn’t keep his head on a swivel and that trumped his baser needs. “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

  “You’re a jerk.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve been called worse.”

  “If my life weren’t in danger and you weren’t the one person watching out for me, I’d push you in front of a bus.”

  Nathan watched as she turned on her heel and ran to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples as a tension headache threatened to burst his brain. How was he going to survive being cooped up with that woman for longer than a day or two? Too bad the Geneva Conventions didn’t have a clause about forcing former lovers into close proximity for extended periods of time.

  Particularly if the female is a fiery, temperamental redhead with a body that makes a man’s teeth clench and his pants tight.

  Surely that had to be inhumane.

  * * *

  Jerk. Jerk. Jerk.

  That was Nathan Isaacs’s middle name. In fact, it was probably typed on his birth certificate. She wasn’t ugly or hard on the eyes. Plenty of men had assured her that she was pretty, not that she’d gone looking for compliments—well, maybe just a little. She could admit that her self-esteem had taken a beating after Nathan had dumped her.

  And now he was messing with her again.

  As if she’d even invite him into her bed again after how he’d treated her. Not a chance. The idea of allowing Nathan to touch even one inch of her skin made her want to retch. If the earth depended on her having a rematch of cuddle time with Nathan, the human race would go extinct because he didn’t deserve to sniff her hair much less rub up against her in any way.

  But if she was so abhorrent to him, why did his eyes glaze over at the thought of her running around naked? She was a little rusty in interpreting Nathan’s expressions but she could’ve sworn she’d seen lust reflecting in his stare. But that couldn’t be right because when they’d broken up, he’d plainly stated he was no longer attracted to her. Had he lied? Why would he? Was she grasping at straws in the hopes of salvaging some shred of dignity or pride? Probably. She flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Exhaustion was setting in. Her brain was scrambled and she was clearly not operating on all four cylinders because if she were, she wouldn’t be trying to make sense out of the actions of a man she’d never truly known. Her eyelids dragged and she allowed them to close. Sleep was good. Maybe when she woke up, things would be clearer.

  Maybe when she woke up she’d discover that none of this had happened. She’d open her eyes and find herself back at her apartment, back to her regular life where no one was trying to kill her and her best friend Sonia was texting her to not forget the tortilla chips and salsa for Margarita Girls’ Night In.

  Maybe.

  Hopefully.

  * * *

  Nathan opened his laptop and attached his remote Hotspot to enable the internet connection. Within seconds his email popped up with an urgent message from his director, Tom Wyatt. The text was simple. Worried. Come talk.

  Nathan knew he could trust Tom but he didn’t want to put anyone else at risk until he knew what he was dealing with. He typed a quick reply, Will be in touch, and hit Send. He needed more information before he went to Tom with evidence that someone was dirty inside their tight-knit department. The problem? Nathan didn’t know where to start.

  H
ow was he supposed to figure out who had it out for him if he didn’t know where to start looking? Perhaps the dead guy could lend a clue. It had been dark so getting a good look at his mug had been impossible but Nathan had a few contacts he could tap in the coroner’s office for an ID. He couldn’t risk a phone call—he didn’t know how secure the lines were—so that meant he’d have to make a trip back down the mountain to the coroner’s office. He hated the idea of venturing into the open again but his back was up against the wall. Besides, he supposed he couldn’t put off another trip for too much longer. Otherwise he ran the risk of Jaci prancing around in nothing but her skin and while he might’ve talked a good game, it wouldn’t take much to tear apart his defenses when it came to seeing Jaci naked.

  As if on cue, an erection began to grow behind his zipper. Just the idea of seeing Jaci in her birthday suit was enough to get his motor running. No! He was not about to mess with Jaci like that. He’d broken her heart on purpose and he wasn’t going to negate all that heartache just to get his rocks off.

  He ought to clear the air with Jaci, just so there weren’t hard feelings between them—or at the very least, no new hard feelings—but as he headed toward the bedroom, he suffered the distinct feeling that he was about to enter the lion’s den.

  However, as he pushed the door open slowly, he was surprised to see Jaci crashed out, sleeping hard. He didn’t blame her. Emotional fatigue was tough to run from. Grief, confusion and adrenaline made for a tumultuous emotional cocktail and eventually, the body just shut down to catch up. Jaci was sprawled across the bed, her position catching him in a tight spot between longing and too many memories.

  “You’re ticklish,” Jaci said with a surprised giggle as a memory popped loose from his mental cache. They’d spent the afternoon in bed at a small bed-and-breakfast he’d found on the northern coast. There’d been no phone, no cable and no internet access—and it had been heaven. The weekend had been filled with sex, food and more sex with a shower or two thrown in to rinse off their activities so they could start fresh. And Jaci had discovered, quite by accident, his tickle spot right below his rib cage.

  “No tickling,” he’d said with mock seriousness as he flipped her onto her back. “Otherwise, I’ll have to reciprocate and I know you’re ticklish all over.”

  “I can’t help that my skin is sensitive,” she’d said with a playful grin. “Every little touch is like a sensory smorgasbord.”

  “Hmm... A smorgasbord... An all-you-can-eat buffet with Jaci on the menu... Sounds like my kind of place,” he had murmured as he dipped lower to kiss the soft skin of her belly. The skin, fair and unblemished, was unlike any he’d ever seen. Her legs went on for miles and her breasts were full and high, almost more perfect than any natural breasts he’d ever seen. He had moved a little lower, lightly grazing the sensitive skin above her feminine folds with the stubble on his chin. “How about here?” She’d squealed in response and he’d grinned. “Or here?” He’d traveled to her inner thigh and sucked a tiny spot of flesh into his mouth. She had nearly rocketed off the bed, gasping.

  “I give! I give! No more,” she had begged but Nathan had begun to see the allure of tickling and wanted to tease her just a bit more. He’d spent the next forty-five minutes discovering all the places that made Jaci tremble and moan.

  He exhaled softly and shook off the memory. He hated knowing that other men had touched her intimately since they’d broken up. Intellectually he’d known that a woman as striking as Jaci wouldn’t stay lonely long but emotionally it tore him up to know that other men had been with her.

  God, he missed her. He couldn’t admit it out loud but he could admit it in the privacy of his mind. He missed everything about her. Hell, he even missed the sound of her off-key notes bouncing off the shower walls as she murdered every popular song on the radio. But mostly he missed the quiet evenings alone where they did their own thing but still managed to feel connected. It’d been in those moments when he’d felt normal—as if they were simply like any couple on the block who hosted backyard barbecues and pool parties with friends and argued about where to put the ugly art she seemed to enjoy or the tacky beer signs he favored. What a cruel joke fate had pulled on them both.

  Nathan pushed away from the door and closed it behind him. He’d left Jaci to keep her safe. Even if it cost him his life, he’d make sure that no harm ever came to her. Whether she wanted it or not, that was his promise to her.

  Chapter 7

  “Where are we going again?” Jaci asked, hurrying after Nathan in her disguise. A cheap blond wig covered her natural brilliant red and she’d finally managed to find some clothes that covered her body, though they were hardly the height of fashion. “And where did you find these clothes? They’re nearly as bad as the ones at the cabin,” she grumbled.

  “Thrift store,” he answered, crossing the street quickly. “And we’re going to talk with a friend of mine who works at the coroner’s office.”

  “Coroner? As in, where they keep dead people?” Jaci asked with a worried expression. “Why are we going there?”

  “Because she might be able to help me identify the man who tried to kill you. I don’t have access to my work computer right now and I don’t trust going into the office now that I know someone within my department is out to kill me. So, it’s old-school detective time.”

  “Were you ever a detective?”

  “No.”

  “Then how would you know how a detective operates?”

  “I’ve watched a few Law and Order episodes,” he said, shooting her a mildly playful look that caused her to blush. Law and Order was one of her favorite shows and one she’d always tried getting him to watch with her. He’d succumbed to her wishes a few times in exchange for sexual favors. It’d been a fun game for them both. She got snuggle time in front of the television and he got...well, he got what he wanted.

  They entered through the back door and descended four flights of stairs before popping out at the basement. Jaci shivered and muttered, “Aren’t morgues scary enough? Why do they have to put them in basements, too? It’s damn creepy down here. I feel like I could get murdered right now.”

  He smiled briefly and knocked softly at the first door at the end of the hall. The metal door opened and Mina, a short, curvaceous woman with a penchant for oddities and a faint European accent, smiled when she saw Nathan but openly ignored Jaci. “It’s about time you showed your mug around here, you sexy piece of meat. Get in here,” she said, grabbing Nathan and practically dragging him into her inner sanctum.

  Jaci cleared her throat meaningfully and Mina flicked an irritated look her way. “Why’d you bring a chaperone? Afraid I’ll change your life and ruin you for other women?” Mina teased, causing Nathan to choke back a grin. Good God, if he were of a mind, Mina probably would ruin him—and leave lasting scars. “What can I do you for? It’s not very often I get such handsome visitors.”

  “Mina, I have to warn you, I’m in some trouble. Seems someone wants my head and they’re not being very conservative in their efforts.”

  “I always figured I’d find you on my slab one of these days. Frankly, I’m surprised you’ve managed to stay alive this long. Who wants you dead?”

  “We don’t know,” Jaci interjected herself into the conversation, sending Nathan a dark look for not introducing her. She held out her hand. “I’m Jaci, his ex-girlfriend. And you are?”

  “Mina Harlan. Ex-girlfriend?” She looked to Nathan. “You crafty bastard. You never told me you had a girl, ex or otherwise.” Nathan shifted on the balls of his feet, uncomfortable with the conversation. He’d never slept with Mina—he rarely mixed business with pleasure—but Mina had never been quiet about her designs on getting him into her bed. Before Jaci, Nathan might’ve been tempted but at his core, he was a one-woman kind of man.

  Mina sighed and shrugged. “Well, we never would’ve
suited long-term but we might have made one helluva dent in the mattress. Anyway, you have questions about the ugly gorilla that came across my slab a few days ago, right?”

  “Yes,” Nathan answered, relieved to return the conversation to safer ground. “What do you know about him?”

  “I know that he had liver damage, likely from alcohol abuse, and that his arteries were clogged. If you hadn’t killed him, his heart would’ve in a few years. The poor sap was a walking heart attack.”

  “Did you get a positive ID from his prints?”

  “That’s where it gets interesting,” she said, going to her desk to pull her notes. “His prints don’t belong to him. According to his prints, his name is Olaf Girgich and he died thirty years ago. Your thug is a ghost.”

  “How is that possible?” Jaci asked.

  “His records were switched with Olaf Girgich’s,” Nathan answered grimly. “Chances are, whoever this man was, he’s been off the grid for quite some time. Either he’s been working as someone’s hired killer for a while or someone managed to make him disappear to hide the trail. Either scenario has merit.”

  “I’m no Pollyanna but I’ve got to admit that all this subterfuge and smoke-and-mirrors stuff is really freaking me out. What branch of the government do you work for?” Jaci asked.

  “A secret one,” Nathan answered.

  She scowled and crossed her arms. “You mean the kind that erases people’s identities?”

  “Yeah.” Nathan looked to Mina who appeared amused by their little interchange and gestured. “Is there anything else you can tell us about ‘Olaf’?”

  Mina smiled but shook her head. “Sorry, that’s about where my expertise ends. However, I don’t know if this is useful or not but I can tell you that his body was identified by someone other than a family member.”