by Misty Evans
Unfortunately, it came with her job.
She couldn’t get close to anyone. Not without risking her operative status and, possibly, their lives.
No way she would do that. Her job meant everything to her, but risking the life of someone who felt something for her was out of the question. She’d become an agent to save innocent people, not to put them in the line of fire.
Entering her password, she tapped an icon to open the GPS tracking software that would link her to the transmitter she’d hidden in her go-bag. Several seconds passed as the software did its thing, bringing up a map of the area and scanning for the transmitter.
Come on, come on. Where are you, El?
The map shifted, zooming out. Finally a red pin dropped onto a spot. Quite a ways from where they were, but stationary. Stationary was good.
Turning the screen so Jax could see it, she hoped Elliot was immobile because he’d found a place to crash. The other options—kidnapped, dead—weren’t pleasant to consider. “He’s there.”
“Who?”
“Elliot. I gave him my go-bag to help him out. I had a GPS tracker hidden inside the bag.”
Jax’s expression lightened. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He screwed up his forehead and squinted at the map. “Where exactly is that?”
She used her fingers to zoom in. The spot was several hours west of the city in an area she’d never been to. “I don’t know, but we’re going to go find it as soon as I clean up.”
Jax nodded. “I’ll help the guys while you shower. We’ll put security on the place, but tonight, you’re going to a safe house.”
She didn’t like that idea, but night was still hours away. Maybe they would find Elliot and clear up what was going on by then.
“Give me fifteen,” she said, and snatched some clean, if wrinkled, clothes off the floor on her way to the bathroom.
She only wished washing away this mess were as easy as washing off the night’s grime.
RUBY WAS IN the shower and it took all of Jax’s concentration to work on cleaning up her apartment while Emit and Colton installed listening devices and cameras. His brain would much rather shut down than think about her luscious body standing under a stream of hot water.
Because, it seemed, his brain as well as his dick were hardwired into the Ruby Fantasy Channel. All Ruby, all the time.
Along with the lust, rage burned under his skin. The look on her face as she’d viewed the damage had nearly done him in.
The fact of the matter was that she’d barely shown any sort of emotion. A slight hitch in her chest, a hard swallow, the tiniest pinch between her eyebrows. But to him, tuned into her every gesture, her every breath, it spoke volumes. Random or not, even the most hardened person felt violated after a break-in. It scared you, shook something deep inside you that went back to your childhood. Security. Safety.
Ruby hadn’t shown it, but it had shaken her too. “I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this,” Jax said as he scooped up broken glass from the floor.
“Who do you think did it?” Emit asked.
He dumped the dustpan into the garbage, the glass tinkling as it fell. “No idea.”
Colton tested a camera angle, adjusted it. He’d hidden the tiny thing inside the smoke detector. “You don’t think it was this Agent Brown guy?”
Jax stretched his back. Ruby’s compact car was the size of a sardine can. It felt like it had squished his spine into half its size. “Agent Brown is Elliot, so no, I don’t think it was him. He already visited her and she gave him her go-bag to help him out. If he’d been after something, he would have gone for it then. Plus, he’s just not the kind of guy to do this.” He waved a hand at the destruction.
“Wait,” Emit said. “Elliot impersonated a Homeland agent and took Augustus Nelson from the cops?”
“At this point, I’m not all that sure he was impersonating anyone.”
Emit screwed up his face. “You think he’s working for Homeland?”
“As a CIA agent, he’s already under their umbrella. What I can’t figure out is if he’s Homeland undercover inside the CIA or he’s CIA running a deep undercover op on his fellow operatives for Homeland.”
Colton squinted. “Trying to follow that makes my head hurt.”
“Why would Homeland insert one of their own into the Agency?” Emit pondered.
Jax wondered the same. “Only thing I can think of is that they suspect a mole or traitor high in the ranks. Fits with what James said to Ruby.”
Emit nodded. “How does that tie into James and Nelson?”
“No fucking idea,” Jax said, “but my gut’s telling me Elliot may be innocent of the charges I accused him of, or there’s at least a damn good reason he did what he did.”
Emit shoved desk drawers back into their respective places and stuck a bug under one of them. “If he’s Homeland, why didn’t they tell Justice to drop it and not pursue prosecution?”
“Maybe he found out something he shouldn’t have and Homeland wanted to shut him up,” Colton volunteered.
Jax shook his head. “The only good way to shut him up would be to kill him, not send him to a country club prison.”
“We need to talk to Beatrice.” Emit tossed Jax one of the tiny listening devices and pointed at the door. “She’s better at cyphering out conspiracy theories than I am.”
Jax placed the bug on top of the mirror next to the door. “I’m due to check in with her anyway.”
In the hallway outside, he heard the click of dog nails on the stairs. The jingle of keys.
Dan.
“I’ll be right back,” Jax said.
He caught John Lennon Junior unlocking his door. “Hey, man.”
Dan glanced up. “Yes?”
The dog growled for half a second, then wagged its tail.
“Jaxon Sloan.” He held out his hand while Woodstock sniffed his boots. “I’m a friend of Ruby’s and she says you’re a good neighbor. Her place was broken into sometime between midnight and seven this morning. You hear anything weird? See anyone suspicious?”
“Broken into?” Dan’s bloodshot eyes swung right, then left, as if the boogie man was about to jump out at them. “Is Ruby all right?”
“She’s fine, she wasn’t home, but her place is a disaster. Got any ideas who might have paid her a visit?”
“Jeez, I’ve no idea, man. I never heard anything, never saw anyone other than Mrs. Lieberman downstairs when I took Woodstock for her walk this morning.”
Wow. All the crashing and banging around that must have happened and Dan heard none of it? Dan needs to lay off the weed. “Mrs. Lieberman, huh? Do you think she might talk to me? Which apartment does she live in? Are there any other neighbors up here that might have heard something?”
“Nah, just me and Ruby on this floor. Mrs. Lieberman is one floor below mine. She’s a nosy old gal, but nice enough. She’s out of town for the weekend. Was packing up her car when I saw her this morning. Said she was going to visit her sister in Michigan.”
Damn. “Who lives in the apartment below Ruby’s?”
Dan urged Woodstock into the apartment and half slid into it himself, blocking the doorway. “No one that I know of. It’s been vacant for a few weeks.”
“All right, thanks. Do you have a number for Mrs. Lieberman?”
He shook his head, edging the door closed. “She doesn’t have a cell and I don’t even know her sister’s name. Sorry.”
The door shut, leaving him alone in the hallway. Somehow Jax had the feeling Dan wasn’t sorry at all.
He was the nosy one from what Jax could see, but Jax almost believed the guy had been out cold while Ruby’s place was being tossed.
Still. Wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on him. Run a background check.
Ruby was fresh from the shower, dressed in a white blouse and faded jeans, when he got back inside. “What were you doing?” she asked.
She smelled like some flower and looked ten years younger with all the makeup scrubbed
off her face. “Asking Dan a few questions. What’s his last name?”
She pulled sunglasses out of the purse hanging over her shoulder and propped them on her head. “Why?”
“Last name is Hughley. He’s clean,” Rory called from the kitchen where he’d set up his laptop on the tiny table. “I already ran facial rec and got his name. Nothing in his background but some unpaid parking tickets and an arrest at a protest march against gun violence in DC in 2000.”
Well, that fit, didn’t it?
Ruby crossed her arms and looked at Jax dubiously. “You suspect Dan is in on this?”
“Doesn’t hurt to vet those around you, and I wanted to know if he saw or heard anything suspicious last night.”
“Did he?”
“Nope. You ready?”
Emit held up a hand and spoke to Ruby. “I called Timms and explained what was going on—not the details, since we’re not sure who we can trust—but enough for him to give you some space. Whatever story you’re going to tell him, I’d appreciate being privy to it since he may decide to confirm it with me.”
“Copy that,” she said, pulling out her car keys. “I don’t plan to tell him any more than necessary at this point.”
Ach. He had to ride in that blasted sardine can again. If only he’d grabbed his car at the club. “We’ll be in touch as soon as she’s done with Timms.”
Emit nodded. “We’ll lock up.”
Ruby and Jax headed out, Jax following her down the stairs and outside.
“Are we really going to see Director Timms?” he asked.
She slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. “Nope,” she said as he folded himself into the car and buckled up.
“Didn’t figure.”
She handed him her phone with the red pin still dropped in the same place on her GPS map. “We’re going to find Elliot and figure out what the hell is going on.”
Chapter Nine
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RUBY SLOWED THE car to twenty miles an hour and leaned forward to look through the windshield at the abandoned building looming off to her right. “Are you sure this is the place?”
Jax held up her phone where the red pin sat almost directly over the pulsing blue circle that represented her car. “We’re here.”
Pottersville, population 613. Nearly two hours west of the city and a good twenty minutes from any reasonable suburb. They were in the boonies, complete with endless cornfields and county roads.
Overhead, the skies had turned dark, grey clouds roiling like bubbling smog. Here and there, lightning popped, followed by the deep bass of thunder.
The car’s headlights lit up the metal side of the Potter Feed & Grain Mill, the red writing on the building faded to a dull rust as Ruby turned into what had once been a parking lot but now was overgrown with weeds.
Jax was poking at her phone with his long, lean fingers. “According to the Wiki page on this town, the two biggest attractions are the cemetery and a Christmas tree farm.”
A good place to hide out if you wanted to disappear. “Long way from Chicago,” Ruby muttered out loud.
“Wouldn’t Elliot want to get away from the city?”
“How’d he get here? Stolen car?”
Thunder boomed in the distance as Jax shrugged. “Hitching a ride is risky when your face has been on the news. You think he turned Little Gus loose and hotfooted it here?”
Her phone rang. Jax showed her the screen. “The Colonel” showed on caller ID.
Speaking of having your face plastered all over the news.
“Don’t you think you should answer this?” he said. “The guy’s called you twice since we left your apartment.”
“Let it go to voicemail.”
Which was a bad, bad decision. One she would get her ass kicked for.
“Who is he?” Jax asked. “Boyfriend?”
She’d wondered when he was finally going to break down and ask her. “My boss. The real one. The CIA’s director of operations.”
“You call him Colonel?”
“Only behind his back.”
She drove around the north side of the building where the parking lot ended. No other vehicles were anywhere, but then she didn’t expect Elliot to leave his getaway car in plain sight.
Jax hit the decline button and the call went to voicemail. “Why?”
She parked close to the back door and killed the lights. A fat rain drop splattered on the windshield. “You know how in the Navy, you have your basic seamen, then the next level of experienced seamen, and on and on up the ranks until you get to the highest level, the SEALs?”
“Yeah.”
“We have something similar, a graduated level of operatives. The highest one is sort of secret army, like the SEALs. We call our boss Colonel as an inside joke.”
“A secret army, huh?” He smiled. “That’s cool.”
“It is cool, but the Colonel doesn’t like screw-ups, and after my mug was all over the morning news, he’s not calling to tell me my probation is over and I’m back into his elite group.”
“Ah, shit,” Jax said, as if it were only now dawning on him. “You’re blown, aren’t you?”
Ruby sighed. “I had a lot of makeup on last night, but yeah. I’m guessing since a few million people in the Windy City alone have seen my face in connection with the shooting last night, which has now gone to the national news channels as well as all over the Internet…” She drew an imaginary knife across her throat. “My undercover days are most likely over.”
“Well, that fucking sucks.”
Was he smiling? “You don’t believe that,” she accused. “You’re happy my UC job is in jeopardy.”
He met her gaze head on. “It’s risky, dangerous work. You’re a good operative, but I can’t say I’m not relieved that you won’t be going undercover again for awhile.”
She wanted to be pissed at him, found she didn’t have the energy. “Let’s just find the GPS tracker.”
Jax popped his door open. “And Elliot.”
Right. And Elliot.
She didn’t really believe El was inside. He’d no doubt found the tracker and dumped it here to lead her on a wild goose chase.
If that was the case, she was out of ideas. Unless she could find Augustus Nelson, her leads were gone.
Stepping out of the car, she took her gun from a shoulder holster and checked the chamber. Several cold raindrops fell on her face, her hands.
Across from the abandoned feed mill, acres of cornfields stretched out, most of them unplanted. A tall silo, shedding tiles from its sides, stood like a sentry over the dry fields of old broken stalks and weeds. One lone oak tree stretched dead branches toward the sky, its massive trunk still solid and sturdy, while a branch the size of a small tree had broken off and lay at its base.
Jax naturally fell into the lead position, which annoyed her, but as she pointed her gun upward and sidled up to the opposite side of the door, she was glad for once to have him with her. Tiny town, deserted old building, a storm moving in. Being out here alone, with no way of knowing what was on the other side of this door, would have been unnerving.
Jax’s big body moved with grace, his face calm. He glanced at her, did a couple of hand signals to let her know his plan, and when she nodded her understanding, he nodded back.
But he didn’t move, three fingers in the air, ready to count them down.
She waited. Still he didn’t move, his eyes locked on hers, intense, powerful, earnest. Heat shot across the couple of feet between them into her chest, down her legs. She reminded herself to breathe.
Lightning flashed in her peripheral vision, but she didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. Jax was there. He would keep her safe regardless of the threat, just like he’d done last night in the club. Just like he’d done that morning, cleaning up her apartment, interrogating poor Dan.
One side of her lips lifted. She couldn’t help it.
As annoying as he was, he was also one of the bravest men she’d ever met.
He saw her half-smile and returned it. One by one, his fingers fell.
One.
Two.
Three.
She expected him to try the door handle, but he didn’t. Instead he kicked in the door, barreling through and sweeping his gun from side to side as she followed.
Dark. The interior was too dark with little outside light able to get in, even with the broken windows.
And it smelled. Badly.
Before her eyes could adjust or she could reach for her flashlight, Jax turned his own on, illuminating the open, barn-like interior.
Someone had gutted most of the machines, although a few still stood anchored to the back wall and concrete floor. Another wall held various tools, chains, and shelves of rusted cans and miscellaneous stuff. A pile of pallets domed in the center of the floor, a weird red ball sat off to the side, as if a child had been in here playing and had suddenly run away.
A chill played tag up the vertebrae of Ruby’s spine. “Elliot,” she called. “It’s me, Ruby. We know you’re in here.”
Her voice echoed in the space, bouncing off the high ceiling and loft, falling back onto her.
A beat passed. Another. Not a sound except those coming from Mother Nature outside.
She knew there wouldn’t be an answer. Elliot was too smart for his own damn good.
Where’s the go-bag?
Perhaps he’d simply removed the hidden GPS tracker and hid it somewhere. Dropped it into the mess of pallets or stuck it in one of the machines.
“I’ll check upstairs,” Jax said, heading for a set of steps at the back of the building.
Ruby dug out her flashlight, flicked it on, and began examining the lower floor more carefully. The place smelled of mold, old wood, decay. Mice had made the place their palace, leaving droppings everywhere.
No wonder it smells.
A desk, chair, and bulletin board in one section had been the office. There were still papers on the desk, a bulky computer screen from the early 90s. A wastebasket full of candy wrappers and Mr. Pibb cans. Probably something had died in there, its rotted smell adding to the place’s fragrance du jour.
