Kellie’s shoulders slumped, and she stared straight ahead through the windshield, quiet for what seemed a long time before a sigh relaxed her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “Pancreatic cancer. By the time it was diagnosed, it’d spread to her liver. Surgery wasn’t a possibility. She was dead in two months. I barely made it home in time to see her.” She choked on the final word.
MacGyver locked his hands together on his chest so he couldn’t reach for her, even though the need to somehow bear her pain had lodged in his throat and he fought to keep his voice even. “Where were you living?”
If asking her about her mother had made her uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to the busted look invading her eyes now. MacGyver studied the side of her face until she dropped her head and her features disappeared behind a veil of her hair. Equal parts curiosity and dread filled him. Where might she have been that could possibly explain the conflicting emotions that cascaded across her face? Prison? A monastery in Tibet? Not likely…with the way she’d responded to his ill-advised kiss.
The seconds ticked by in heavy silence. Maybe she wasn’t going to answer his simple question for whatever reason—and maybe he should give her a break. After all, her personal life was none of his business, as she’d readily pointed out earlier.
MacGyver sat up straight, one arm thrown across the back of the seat. “Travis will be in position any time now. Let’s head that way.”
Kellie didn’t move except to return her hand to the shift lever and change gears, then lifted her eyes to his. “Iraq. Okay? I was in Iraq.”
Anger shuttered her expression like a defensive shield, shutting him out and warning of land mines ahead should he dare to breach her walls. She gunned the engine and pulled away from the boat launch, turned right and started up the hill, leaving him in bewildered silence.
Iraq?
It was no stretch to make the connection between her whereabouts and her willingness to fight him after she’d left his bed yesterday morning. Or the way she’d held her own with Palazzi outside the hotel. Very few brave souls vacationed in Iraq these days, especially women. She was ex-military…just like him. What he didn’t get was…
“Why was telling me so hard?”
Kellie scoffed. “I’ll let Lieutenant Commander Sorenson fill in the details.”
Scorn oozed from her words, and the finality of her tone suggested they were finished here. Obviously, Kellie didn’t know how patient he could be.
“Like I said—I’d rather hear it from you. Were you lying when you told me you didn’t know Blake?”
Her face turned toward him, and if shooting daggers was a possibility, MacGyver would have been ducking.
“Think whatever you’d like.” Instead of delivering the verbal beating he’d braced for, Kellie slammed shut the window through which he’d finally managed to glimpse the real woman.
“Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it, but this conversation isn’t over.” Rather than diminishing his curiosity, the mystery of Kellie Greyson intrigued him. He wasn’t happy, however, that the topic had dampened their potential alliance. He’d need her cooperation—and he wanted her trust.
Kellie turned right on a driveway all but hidden from the road by young pines that grew haphazardly in the shadow of old-growth timber. Ahead, the brick-red bungalow revealed nothing of what was going on inside. No smoke curled from the tall, stone chimney. No windows were open, airing out stuffy rooms left closed up tight for far too long.
The graveled driveway ended at the side of the house, where a white Ford Taurus was parked. The door of a woodshed behind the cabin stood open. A wheel barrow, half filled with firewood, waited as though someone had walked away in the middle of his chore.
“Pop’s car is here. Chip should have announced us by now.” Kellie pulled behind the Taurus, letting the SUV idle.
“Chip?” MacGyver frowned. It was too damn quiet.
“Pop’s dog. A border collie. He’s really smart and protective of my stepdad.”
MacGyver retrieved the weapon he’d concealed under his thigh and shoved it in his waistband, making sure it was covered by his T-shirt. There was no guarantee Charlie and the man who’d called Kellie were inside, but standard operating procedure for anyone with enough chops to do Tony Palazzi’s wet work would be to shoot the dog first. One look in her eyes and MacGyver knew—she’d already thought of that.
Where Kellie had parked gave them an unobstructed view of the front, side and rear of the cabin. His gaze roved toward the tree line, where Blake and Travis would be waiting and watching. The sooner they got this part done, the sooner he could get the answers he needed from Kellie.
“Ready?” His hand closed around the door handle.
“Wait.” Kellie touched his arm. “He said to come alone. What if he kills you when you step out there? Getting Pop out alive is my problem. Let me do this.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening. Besides, I’d be dead now if he was set on killing me for crashing the party.” MacGyver grinned as he opened the door. “Don’t forget to take the safety off if you draw that gun.”
He stepped out quickly, chuckling at her exaggerated eye-roll. Circling the front of the vehicle, he stopped beside Kellie and surveyed the knee-deep grass swaying with the breeze, the overgrown brush and the curtained windows. Nothing moved. The hush was unnerving. No horns honking. No one playing music too loud. Certainly, no dogs barking. The perfect spot for a romantic weekend…or a murder.
“Stay close.” He waved her forward as he started for the rear of the house. The door was locked when he twisted the knob. Kellie searched beneath the rocks at the edge of the twelve-by-twelve raised wooden deck and soon came up with a key. She unlocked the door, and MacGyver followed her inside.
With weapons drawn, they checked the entire house, room by room. No sign of Kellie’s stepdad or Palazzi’s goon, who was supposedly holding him hostage. The dog was also absent, although a folded blanket on the floor by the fireplace seemed to indicate Chip had been present recently.
The cabin showed signs of neglect—a broken shutter here, stains where water had leaked in around the windows there. Dust covered most surfaces, but evidence that a family had once spent time in these rooms was everywhere. Pictures of smiling young girls fishing, canoeing, hiking with their parents. Childish artwork still clinging to the refrigerator. Love had lived here at one time.
MacGyver returned the gun to his waistband and scraped a hand over the back of his neck. “The caller must have changed locations after I spoke with him on the phone. You were right. I should have stayed out of it instead of giving away our game plan. I’m sorry, Kellie.” Damn it! He deserved an I-told-you-so rant, and if Charlie had been harmed because of his macho shit, MacGyver would kick his own ass.
Kellie raked a hand through her hair. “You’re not responsible. As much as I’d like to blame someone else for this mess, this one’s all on me. Besides, I’m the target. Tony wants me. Pop has only ever been Tony’s way of controlling me. Sooner or later, the dickhead he sent will have to show himself, and when he does, he better hope there’s not a hair out of place on Pop’s head.” Kellie shoved her weapon in her belt and turned away.
Wait a damn minute! Kellie impugning herself didn’t sit right with him. MacGyver caught up to her halfway back to the kitchen, turning her to face him.
“Palazzi is a small-time thug on a power play. If you want to blame someone…blame him. You made your views on marrying him clear when you lit out before the wedding. He chose to come after you. The guy must have one hell of an ego to think you’d go back to him after he threatened both you and Charlie.” Except ego didn’t come close to explaining why Tony was hot on her trail. If the lady had left MacGyver at the altar, he wasn’t going to save face by forcibly bringing her back. No. Something more than that was driving Tony. Like maybe the stolen money?
As though
reading his mind, Kellie flinched. “There’s more to it than that.” Her gold-flecked irises dilated. It was a wonder those green orbs didn’t burn a hole right through him.
Shit! MacGyver swallowed hard, emotionally taking a step back. He didn’t want to hear she’d accepted Palazzi’s proposal so she could get close enough to steal from him. Didn’t want to believe she was a cold-hearted thief. Would he turn her in if she was?
“Wow, did the temperature just drop in here? In case you’re wondering, your poker face gave you away.” She stepped closer and laid her hand on his arm. “Judging by your shell-shocked expression, you’ve got it all wrong.”
MacGyver shook off her hand, barely noting the hurt that briefly flashed through her eyes. He tipped his chin toward the kitchen. “Let’s put on some coffee and get Travis and Blake in here. Then we’ll talk before this goes any further.” Striding away, he left her to follow on her own.
The table, counters and gas stove in the country kitchen appeared to have been recently wiped down. A service for one and a small fry pan rested in a dish drainer by the sink. A metal dog bowl, licked clean, hugged the wall near the back door. Everything else sported a thick layer of dust, and the faint aroma of bacon hung in the air.
MacGyver inspected the countertops and spotted the coffeemaker. A systematic search of cupboards turned up filters, but no grounds.
“Try the fridge.” Kellie still stood near the doorway between kitchen and living room.
He should have thought of that since his mother always kept the coffee in a sealed container in the refrigerator. Claimed it stayed fresher that way. Swinging the door wide, he peered inside. The condition of a home’s food reserves was always a good indicator of who was home and how long they planned to stay. This one had been cleaned recently and stocked with milk, bread, eggs and other staples. A jug of orange juice, assorted sodas and a half-rack of Bud Light chilled on the bottom shelf.
Charlie and I will get along just fine. MacGyver spotted the one pound coffee can in the door rack and reached to lift it out.
“MacGyver?”
“Yeah.”
Wariness was back in her voice and damned if he didn’t despise himself for putting it there. He straightened and glanced toward her, then tensed and turned slowly.
A man with a baseball cap shadowing his face stood behind her, one arm draped over her shoulder, fingers around her throat and the barrel of his gun pressed against the side of her head. “Kellie, I told you to leave your friends out of this, remember? Are the others around here somewhere too?”
MacGyver focused on Kellie briefly, before shifting to study what he could see of the man holding a gun on her. “And…you are?” MacGyver’s instinct and training kept him calm, which was a feat in itself, considering he’d rather tear the coward apart for putting his hands on Kellie.
“Sorry, no time for introductions. I need you to remove your weapon very carefully, slide it across the floor gently and put your hands on your head. One wrong move and your girlfriend suffers for it.”
The stranger had just given him the go-ahead to draw his weapon, but the way the man used Kellie as a shield didn’t afford MacGyver an acceptable opportunity. He gripped his handgun and carefully laid it on the floor, pushing it away with his foot. His subtle glance flicked to her, and he gave a slight nod, hoping to reassure her. He needn’t have bothered.
Standing straight and tall, her face a mask of concentration, Kellie smiled ever so slightly. “His name is Jerry. He works for Tony. I met him at the hotel before I learned Tony planned to kill me and collect on a life insurance policy. He’s also the reason I showed up at Wally’s Tavern. I actually thought Jerry might be one of the good guys—until now.”
MacGyver cocked his head to the side. “You just can’t tell about people nowadays.”
Jerry scowled and pushed Kellie toward the center of the room. “For the record, I am on your side. If you’d given me ten more minutes, I’d have gotten you out of that hotel myself.”
Kellie started to turn, disbelief etched on her face, only to have Jerry push her forward a few more steps.
“And…you’d help her because…?” MacGyver didn’t buy that story for a minute.
Kellie’s expression told him she wasn’t falling for his bullshit either. Clearly he was concocting a fairy tale in the hopes of gaining her trust. No doubt Jerry wouldn’t have any better luck with that than MacGyver had.
“That’s between her and me.” Jerry shoved a zip tie into Kellie’s hand and nudged her forward again, then motioned MacGyver toward one of the kitchen chairs. “Have a seat, cowboy.”
As Kellie moved away from him, Jerry lifted her weapon from her waistband.
“Oh, yeah. You won’t be needing that where we’re going.”
MacGyver kept his eyes on Kellie and hooked his fingers in his pockets, hoping his relaxed attitude would convey the message that they needed to draw this out. Blake and Travis had to be wondering why he and Kellie hadn’t reappeared. If they could keep Jerry talking long enough, perhaps help would arrive.
Kellie glanced toward the window. She was on the same page. Unfortunately, MacGyver’s delay in following instructions and Kellie’s relaxed demeanor seemed to unravel Jerry’s confident façade.
He closed on her back, jamming the gun into her side. “I don’t have time for your stalling tactics. Sit, now, if you want the rest of her life to be pleasant.”
In a blur of motion, Kellie swung around and jammed her elbow into Jerry’s side. His breath whooshed from his lungs as he doubled over with a grunt. Kellie kicked the weapon from his hand, swinging her foot in an arc that caught him smack in the balls. He backed away as quickly as a man could, doubled over, choking on spittle, but it wasn’t quick enough. She grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked her knee into his face.
When she let him go, he dropped like a sack of potatoes. All MacGyver could do was wince and thank his lucky stars he apparently hadn’t pissed her off to that extent…yet. The click of the safety as she leveled the gun at the man writhing on the floor drew his attention, and he hastened to her side.
“Easy, Champ. Why don’t you give me the gun?” He held out his hand.
The back door flew open, bouncing off the interior wall, and Travis filled the doorway with Blake right behind him. Glancing from the man on the floor…to Kellie…to MacGyver, Travis frowned as he lowered his weapon. “Damn it! We missed the whole thing?”
“Don’t worry, Travis. If Jerry doesn’t tell me where Charlie is, I’m going to shatter his kneecaps one at a time.” Kellie’s voice was cold and hard as flint. MacGyver believed her and, apparently, so did Jerry.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Kellie. I’m a US Marshal. My identification is in the inside pocket of my jacket. Check it.”
No one moved except Kellie, who slowly pointed the barrel of the gun at Jerry’s left knee. “I don’t care if you’re the Pope. I want to know where Charlie is, and I want you to explain how you know about Anna.”
“Listen to me, Kellie. Charlie’s safe and not far from here. As for Anna—that’s why I’m here. I know where she is.”
Kellie gasped, and her gun hand dropped to her side. Her face paled as though she’d seen a ghost.
What the…? Who the hell is Anna?
Chapter Ten
“Anna’s alive? Where is she?” Her hands balled into fists, Kellie stomped toward Jerry, a million questions swirling in her head.
He sprawled on the floor, one hand grasping his groin and the other arm outstretched toward her as though he could possibly keep her from eviscerating him if he didn’t start talking.
Suddenly, MacGyver pushed her aside and knelt by the fallen man. None too gently, he searched him, finding the promised ID, and flipped it open. “Sonofabitch! US Marshal Jeremy Dahl.” He held the man’s badge up for all to see.
“What the fuck?” Travis
kicked a chair out of his way, getting to MacGyver to read the credentials for himself. “Goddammit! The congressman lied to us.”
Kellie watched in perplexed silence as Travis threw the ID and slammed his fist down on the tabletop.
“Where’s Charlie and the dog?” MacGyver still knelt beside the man claiming to be a US Marshal.
Jerry, or Jeremy—whoever he was—glared at MacGyver. “I told you he’s fine. I was never going to hurt him. I just needed to find her after she slipped away from the hotel.” He stared accusingly at Kellie as though she’d done something wrong by kicking his ass. “He’s in the next cabin up the hill.”
MacGyver pushed to his feet, grabbed Kellie’s wrist, surprising her and pulling her off balance. “We’ll be back after I find out what the hell’s going on. Make sure he’s still here.” He threw the terse words over his shoulder right before he dragged her through the open doorway.
Who in the hell does he think he is? Halfway to the SUV, she planted her feet and wrenched her wrist from his grasp. “Stop it, MacGyver! You heard him—he knows where she is. I have to find her.”
MacGyver was in her face in an instant, his hands gripping her upper arms like bands of steel. Anger flashed dangerously beneath his furrowed brow. “I swear to God, Kellie, if you don’t get in that car right now, I’m going to throw your ass in. I’ve operated in the dark as long as I’m willing to. Jesus! A US Marshal? I would have killed him for touching you if I’d had a chance.”
She hadn’t asked for his help—had specifically told him she could manage on her own. He’d bullied his way into her life, broken through her walls and made her trust him. Damnit! Made her feel things she shouldn’t. She didn’t want to need him. She could take care of herself. Hadn’t she just proven that?
None of her indignant tirade made it past her lips. The heat in her blood died with the plea in his eyes. Some of the tension drained from her, and she placed her palms against his muscled abs. “Okay. I get it. I had no idea Jerry was a federal marshal. He worked for Tony the last time I saw him.” She sighed, and MacGyver’s hands relaxed their hold on her arms. “You’re right, though. I need to tell you the whole story. You’re risking your life for me, and there shouldn’t be any secrets between us.”
Honor Among SEALs Page 13
