by V. R. Marks
"It's a plan." She winced as she hefted a tote over her shoulder.
He held out a hand. "Let me carry it."
"I've got it."
"I know, but we're about to leave your motel room. We'll be visible on Main Street."
"So what?"
"If my mother or grandmother hears that you were carrying your own luggage I'll never live it down."
She rolled her eyes. "You're exaggerating."
"Nope." He motioned for the bag again.
"But if they see you carrying my luggage, they'll think my shoulder isn't healing."
He hadn't expected that argument. "Nah."
"Umm, yeah."
"Well, that will get cleared up when we get back from the range on Saturday."
"What?" The shoulder bag fell to the floor. "You still want to go?"
"Why wouldn't we? Unless Ross vetoes it as a security risk. Or have you changed your mind?"
"What could be safer than a trip to the firing range? Live ammo, right?"
"Of course."
She beamed and took a giant step back from her luggage, arms spread wide. "Haul away, kind sir."
Her bright smile was worth every effort he'd made to bring it out. He scooped up her bags and let her lead the way out to the car.
Chapter 5
Minutes later he pulled up to Ruth's house and, following orders drove around to the back, parking at the garage. He went to the keypad and entered the code to raise the door. When he turned to the car he caught Eva scowling. "What's wrong?"
"You know her security code?"
"Sure. I've done repair work for her." He recognized the exasperation on her face and the cause. "Relax. The sheriff parked us here for a reason. Defensible. Perimeter. These terms ring a bell with you?"
She shook her head.
"Defensible means –"
"Oh stop it." She dragged her luggage from the back seat. "I can probably reprogram it without much hassle."
He squelched the automatic offer to handle the bags, knowing she'd argue and insist on doing even more for herself. Grabbing his things, he locked the car and lowered the garage door behind them.
They passed through the workout room Ruth had carved out of the breezeway between the garage and the kitchen. He glanced around, impressed that everything looked normal again. He hadn't been here since the night when Ross had stopped an assassination attempt on Ruth's niece, Allie, last month.
Now it was his job to prevent a similar attempt on Eva's life. The thought settled like a block of ice in his gut. He said a prayer he was up to the task and that the woman would cooperate. Just a little.
"I'm setting up back here."
He followed her voice to the den. A small room with a wide bay window overlooking the lake, he couldn't decide if it was safer than the rooms on the front side of the house. Perimeter or not, he would have suggested a windowless room but she'd never go for the idea of riding out the threat in the tiny downstairs powder room.
"Stop trying to judge the distance and target resolutions," she said as she slid her laptop out of the bag. "Shall I define perimeter for you?"
"No thanks."
"I'm sure one of Ross' old pals is already hunkered down in the best spot, thrilled to death to be in his ghillie suit again."
"Takes all kinds I guess."
"It does. Could be worse," she said with a wink. "We could all be former Marines."
Ignoring that, he reached for the bags she'd brought from the motel. "I'll get these upstairs."
"Oh, no. Don't bother with that. I figured I'd just stay down here. Couch feels comfy enough."
She was babbling and refusing to meet his gaze. "You can't work this 24/7."
"I can and I will. The sooner we find this bastard the better."
"We're already here. Ruth would want you to be comfortable."
"Couch is comfy," she repeated. "I'll be fine right here." Her eyes were on her computer, but he could tell it wasn't close to done booting up.
He left the bags and eased into the chair across from the couch. "Talk to me."
"I am talking to you."
Bracing his elbows on his knees, he whispered, "Do you have some terrible fear of the upstairs?" It earned him an annoyed glance. "What's really bugging you?"
"What? Bakr Morcos isn't enough?" She leaned back from the laptop and rubbed her hands together. "I hate tossing Ruth out of her home, okay? It's wrong."
"It's temporary. She and the sheriff are getting married soon. There's more to it."
"Again. Not liking you."
"You're worried about Bart. Let's call the hospital and check in."
"It's more than Bart." She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "If the doc says he's fine and Ross says he's protected, I have to accept it as true and do my job."
He tried not to read too much into the professional tone of her voice. Her fortitude in tough circumstances was one of the things that attracted him, but that 'love you too' Bart had uttered echoed persistently in his head. "Then what's the real issue?"
She rolled her head and met his gaze. "This whole hideout idea is stupid and inconvenient. Taking you away from your job, your family, and Shannon is an imposition. If they insist on you staying here with me, despite the protective detail out there, the least I can do is minimize it."
"You're my job right now."
"But the sheriff said –"
"Forget what Cochran said." He still didn't understand why the sheriff had even made a reference to Shannon and he had bigger issues on his mind. Like keeping her alive. "We may be small town, but we're still professionals, Eva. You should understand and respect that just like everyone else does."
"I do."
She might have said more, but his cell phone sounded an incoming message. "Speak of the devil. It's the sheriff." He read the text message. "Says he'll be here within the hour."
"Great." She turned her attention back to the laptop, her fingers already flying over the keyboard. "Here's hoping I'll have some news by then."
He left her to it, quietly hauling everything upstairs to the guest rooms. She didn't need to stay downstairs and make her challenge any tougher. Her woman-on-a-mission attitude was understandable, but Ruth would be appalled if Eva didn't make herself at home for however long it took to rein in Morcos. Not that there was much chance Ruth would find out if Eva slept on the couch, but it was the principle of it.
He placed her luggage on the bed in the room at the back of the house and tossed his duffle inside the door of the bedroom across the hall. Standing there, looking from one open door to the other, he shook his head. Ruth's hospitality was the least of his worries. He'd never get any sleep knowing Eva was only a few paces away.
On the other hand, staying awake meant he'd do a better job of keeping watch. He headed back downstairs to the kitchen to verify there was plenty of coffee to clear the cobwebs in the morning. Passing the den, the soft glow of the laptop highlighted Eva's face. The furrowed brow and narrowed gaze told him she was engrossed with whatever filled her screen. He'd seen the look plenty since she'd come to town.
It didn't take much to imagine the way she'd laugh if she knew the direction of his thoughts. He was almost grateful this wasn't the time or place to make a move. Reality check, he thought. Even if he took that leap, Ross and Bart would string him up in heartbeat. She was off limits and well out of his league.
He'd just finished a mental grocery list when the doorbell rang. Eva didn't seem to hear it, making him wonder if she was pulling real leads already.
The front door opened before he got there and the sheriff's voice stopped him from drawing his gun. "It's just me, J.C. I've brought the radios and a couple of guests."
"Come on ahead, then." The door swung wide and two more silhouettes followed Cochran into the dim foyer. "She's settled in back here."
"She is right here." Eva stood in the doorway between the den and kitchen.
"Ms. Battaglia," the sheriff said, removing his hat. "Think
you'll be comfortable here?"
"What's that about? You always call me Eva. Oh," she said, drawing it out and frowning as she spotted the others. "Special Agent Nichols must have rubbed off on you."
Sheriff Cochran was flanked by a tall guy in a suit and a woman in a DEA windbreaker. Neither of them looked too happy.
Carson moved to Eva's side as the sheriff introduced Special Agent Dale Nichols of the FBI and Hannah Thalberg of the DEA.
"Hannah?" Eva's brow furrowed. "Has something else happened to Bart?"
"He's stable and his room guarded," the sheriff said quickly. "They're here because today's sniper incident might be connected to an open FBI case."
"I'm really just extra baggage," Agent Thalberg said.
"Regardless," the sheriff continued, "with Ross' various contacts this is quickly turning into an unofficial joint effort. Ross wants Nichols kept in the loop."
Eva planted her hands on her hips. "On which details?"
"All of them, Ms. Battaglia," Nichols replied. "You should know your reputation precedes you."
"I'll take that to mean we all know I earned my place on one of the most elite teams in the Army, Special Agent Nichols." She turned a brilliant smile on the DEA agent and extended her hand. "It's good to meet you at last, Hannah. Are you staying?" She glanced around. "We could make it a girl's retreat and kick out these guys."
Carson thought the FBI agent's jaw might crack.
"Tempting," Hannah replied with a stiff smile. "But I can't stay. I only tagged along with Ross from the Columbia office when I heard about the, ah, incident."
"You'll see him before you go."
It sounded like an order to Carson's ears.
"I will," Hannah agreed. "You do know you get better toys when you play nice?"
Eva slid her gaze to Nichols. "You brought me toys?"
"I have some resources in the car that might expedite your search," Nichols said. "I'll be taking your current computer and phone."
"Absolutely not."
"I have Ross' approval."
"Well, he didn't get mine." She took a step back as if ready to defend her computer and phone to the death.
"Our forensics team –"
"Won't find a damn thing I can't find." Eva cut him off. She threw her hands up. "I'll keep you informed of my progress. If someone found a weak link in RCI security and exploited it I can turn that to our advantage. It's better to feed him what we want him to know than cut him off and force him to start over."
"You don't get a vote."
"Then you don't get my help."
Nichols took a step closer, and Carson shifted to block him. Nichols tried to stare him down, but Carson didn't flinch. His job was keeping Eva safe so she could stay on task.
"What are you trying to hide, Ms. Battaglia?"
"Not a thing. If Ross wants you informed, I'll do that, but not by handing over my system."
"Eva," the sheriff said calmly, drawing Nichols back. "We're all here to help you resolve this as soon as possible." He motioned the other agents back. "Go on and get the system and give us a minute."
Carson heard the FBI agent cursing Eva's stubbornness as he walked out. He added the strange animosity to the growing list of questions he wanted answered.
"I can't turn over my phone, Sheriff," she began, but he cut her off with a raised hand.
"You have to. The plan is to have those two leave the house in Nichols' car with your computer and cell phone."
"Oh, lord." Her hand went to her pendant. "They're trying to draw out the sniper."
"Yes."
"If they fail…"
Carson could tell she was more worried about the agents succeeding in drawing the sniper's attention. He agreed with her concerns. It felt like an unnecessary risk.
"It's long odds." The sheriff patted her shoulder. "We don't have any hard evidence from the post office rooftop. Not a footprint or shell casing. No indication of where the sniper might be."
"No leads from the false alarms?" Carson knew it was early, but surely someone had seen something.
"None," Sheriff Cochran said. He turned back to Eva. "Ross needs you to hand over the phone and computer. Trust him."
"Trust someone," Nichols growled, returning with two oversized black molded plastic cases that looked like they were better suited to an underground military installation than a cozy den in Haleswood. Shouldering his way between Eva and the sheriff Nichols headed into the den. "Come on and I'll give you the run down. You'll thank me later."
Her lip curled in a dramatic sneer and Carson had the distinct impression she was mentally cursing Nichols in more than a few languages as she followed him. A few seconds later he heard the sound of latches flipping open and a happy little exclamation of surprise from Eva. Apparently the new toys would be worth the tradeoff.
He went the other direction to confer with the sheriff about scheduled check-ins, shift rotations, and radio channels.
* * *
"Careful what you wish for," Eva murmured, studying the lake from the safety of the dimly lit den. She didn't feel comfortable turning on the lights and giving whoever might be watching a better view.
When she'd wished for a new case to challenge her, she didn't think it would be her own life on the line. It was hard to believe guards were already posted around Ruth's property. Men the sheriff and Ross trusted to keep Morcos away from her. The temperature was dropping and there was a chance of snow in the forecast. She made a mental note to get the names of everyone on this detail so she could thank them when it was done.
"Fair warning," she said, feeling Carson hovering in the doorway. "I'm going to go crazy hiding here, rattling around in this antebellum monstrosity." The house was lovely, but all the space and quiet intimidated her. Even the windows mocked her, waiting to shatter under a bullet's impact at any moment.
Her skin actually itched with the vulnerable feeling. Once more she reached for the place where her side arm should be. Her shoulder couldn't get strong fast enough. Going unarmed annoyed her more every day – and that was before she'd heard about Morcos' bounty. She was about to ask Carson to hook her up with a weapon when he said something completely unexpected.
"This house isn't antebellum."
"Yeah, that was the relevant point." She'd been inside Ruth's home once before and the memory wasn't her favorite. Not bad, just not her favorite. She'd been on surveillance detail when her target – Ross' high school sweetheart, Allie – took off on an impromptu run through the countryside. They'd ended up here in her aunt's kitchen, Allie looking none the worse for the effort and Eva gasping for breath and fighting a side stitch.
"Antebellum means pre-Civil War."
"I know that." Surely she'd known that. "But come on. You have to admit the house is 'Frankly Scarlet' Southern."
"True." He laughed and she took a little too much pleasure in the deep, baritone sound. "Have you ever been to Georgia?"
"No." Quiet, sedate south wasn't her thing. Big, noisy cities with a lively urban nightlife were her preference. "You know, I thought Columbia was rural," she admitted. "Then Ross showed me his house by the lake."
"Now that is rural," Carson agreed. "I wondered who bought the land a few years ago. Allie and Ross used to meet there in high school when it was nothing but a quiet cove."
"Really? Do tell." She urged him to join her at the other end of the couch. "Seriously," she said when he hesitated. "What else is there to do right now?"
The facial recognition software was doing its thing and until she had the Morcos file from the FBI she couldn't do much more than keep reliving the failed mission. Since it hadn't done her any good so far, she'd prefer any distraction to get it out of her head.
He'd left his hat somewhere, the kitchen probably, and she noticed the slight curl of his blond hair. Inviting him closer might have been a mistake, but it was too late now.
"I shouldn't talk about it," he said, as he settled his lanky frame onto Ruth's tapestry couch. He sent he
r a sheepish smile. "They hated gossip back then."
"Because it was all about them?"
"Often," he admitted. "They were inseparable from grade school on. Her daddy didn't like Ross and was always bragging about Allie's big prospects."
"You mean prospects like Shannon?"
"No." He shook his head and something like regret darkened his expression. "Prospects like going away to college and launching a big career."
"She landed a sweet gig with that company in Virginia."
"Yeah. Everyone here talked about that for weeks. Ruth and her parents were so proud. But she rarely came home to visit."
"What about Ross? When we caught that case, I got the impression he'd lost contact with her."
"He left town right out of high school and never came back. As far as anyone in town knew, he was still in the Army. Until he showed up with you."
"Me?"
"Yep." He cleared his throat. "I heard he only sent a picture of himself at some random base on the other side of the world for their tenth high school reunion."
But she latched on like a dog with a bone to what he hadn't said. "What do you mean he showed up with me?" She felt fifteen again; when the cute guy at her at her sister's wedding reception had asked her to dance. The happy flutter of attraction was dialed up high. The only thing missing was the wedding band doing covers of cheesy love ballads.
You're a grown up, Eva. Act like it.
"You, umm, mentioned his name when you did carry out breakfast at the Midnight Rooster. Strangers get noticed," he added.
There was that word again. Stranger. The one that made it clear she didn't fit in here. She couldn't deny being ridiculously flattered he'd noticed her and somewhat ashamed of herself that she hadn't really seen him until later in the investigation. Of course she knew about him, along with the rest of Sheriff Cochran's staff, having run the background checks at Ross' request. But she hadn't noticed him until the day she'd been shot.
To be accurate, it had been the day after the shooting. He'd driven her from the hospital to her motel room to recuperate. She'd wanted to be alone, but the community wouldn't put up with that. Someone had stopped by every day for the first week and every couple of days after that, until she finally pre-empted the visits by going to the Rooster on her own.
