In Her Sights

by Perini, Robin

  “You don’t get it.” Luke shifted the car into gear. “I received a call earlier today. Untraceable. About you.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “He’d read my article and didn’t like my portrayal of you as a hero.” She didn’t need to know how much of an understatement that had been. “He implied your secrets have something to do with my corruption investigation.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Maybe. Could be someone’s wanting me to focus on you. Or maybe they’re setting you up to be the fall guy for the whole investigation. I don’t know. Yet.”

  “You’re looking for conspiracies where they don’t exist.”

  The light changed and Luke gunned the car forward. “Whoever called me accused you of hiding your identity because you’re a murderer. Killer Cop was scratched into your car on the same day. That’s not a coincidence. They want me to expose everything about you.”

  Even in the darkened vehicle, he could see her face pale as they sped under a streetlight.

  “I’m a sniper. That’s it. I’m no murderer. I do what I have to do to save lives, but all my terminations were justified. You should know that since you’ve been poking into my life.” She rapped her fist against the window glass. “Can we just drop it?”

  She could’ve been killed tonight, and she’d never flinched, but one mention of her past and she lost her cool like a rookie? Why?

  “I’ll lay off for now, but there are a lot of blank spots in your history. The person on the phone knows something,” Luke insisted. “He’s trying to make you look suspicious, and thanks to your evasiveness, he’s succeeding.”

  “You suspect me?”

  Interesting question. She was an expert at diverting questions from her past, even when their relationship had been at its best. He’d been so enamored with her beauty, with the amazing sexual energy between them, and with her sheer determination and guts, he hadn’t recognized the thickness of the wall she’d built around herself. Not until he’d tried to get closer, to bring her more fully into his life. Not until he’d wondered if they couldn’t have something permanent.

  He’d asked questions.

  She’d pushed him away. No communication, no conversation. One day, she just picked up her toothbrush from his house and didn’t come back.

  “You have a lot of secrets,” he said finally. Luke didn’t mention his suspicions concerning Tower. The guy had to be involved somehow. He was a sniper. He had access to Jasmine’s private employee records, and his father was on Luke’s suspect list. A convergence of convenience.

  “And you’re a son-of-a-bitch.” She reached into her pocket—for her Life Savers, no doubt. A sure sign she was shaken, no matter how strong a mask she wore.

  “Maybe, but I won’t lie to you either. Can you promise the same?”

  “Get me to the sheriff’s office. This conversation is over.” She stared out the side window, but he could see the hurt on her face.

  He sighed and pulled into the parking lot at the precinct. “Look, I’ve been burned by trusting people who’ve lied. Men died because of it. You know that. Better than most.”

  He’d bared his soul to Jasmine. Like a fool. And not just about Derek. He’d revealed his biggest failure, hoping she would return his trust. He’d told her how his long-time translator in Afghanistan had given his unit faulty intel on a stash of weapons. Luke’s wounded shoulder seized at the memory of his decision to capture the arms cache. He’d made the call and led his men into an ambush. It was a blood bath. Nobody walked away. Not even the idealistic embedded journalist standing right beside him.

  “I couldn’t save my men. Not any of them. I don’t take anything at face value anymore, Jasmine. I can’t.”

  “Never trust anyone. I get that. We’re in one hundred percent agreement.”

  As he stopped the vehicle, Jasmine jumped out. Luke cursed, threw the car into park, and leaped out after her. He grasped her arm and turned her toward him. “One last thing—I watched you tonight. Your head isn’t all there. If you were in my unit, I’d pull you off. Let someone else do the job tonight.”

  “There’s no one else.” She jerked away from his touch and his hand closed on air, empty and cold. He studied her fierce expression, but she couldn’t hide the strain. She hadn’t let go of what happened.

  “I’m a sniper.” She slung her duffel over her shoulder and it slammed against her body. “I have a responsibility to my team and to the victims. I won’t let some idiot who doesn’t have the courage to face me stop me from doing my job and protecting my team. I won’t fail. I can’t.”

  She turned her back on him and, with a determined stride, charged into the sheriff’s office.

  Luke stared after her. He’d really screwed up this time. Jasmine was vulnerable whether she admitted it or not. She needed someone to watch her back. He bypassed the front desk and headed to the SWAT team’s den. As he opened the door, Luke soaked up the flurry of activity.

  Gabe rushed over to him, glancing furtively side-to-side. “What are you doing here?”

  “Montgomery,” Sergeant Carder bellowed from his office. “Get your snooping brother out of here before I write you up and throw him in jail.”

  Gabe winced and pushed Luke out of Sarge’s sight. “I don’t know why you’re here, but now is not the time.”

  Luke stopped him with a sharp tug. “I came with Jasmine.”

  Gabe’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding. Is that why she whipped through here? What’d you do to tick her off?”

  “What didn’t I do? But that’s the least of her problems. Someone shot at us. After they vandalized her truck,” he whispered.

  “What’s going on?” Gabe said.

  “I don’t know. The shot could be retribution for one of her terminations. Could be about my investigation. I’ll figure it out, but I’m worried about her. She handled the truck and getting shot at pretty well, but when I told her about the phone call, she started to crack. She’s trying to act like she’s fine, but I don’t think she is. Can’t you tap someone else for this mission?”

  “Collins was at a wedding and had a few too many. She’s our only available sniper. No other backup. No choice.”

  “Look out for her, Gabe.”

  They watched Jasmine, who was checking her tactical rifle and night optics. Her adroit movements seemed so in control, Luke wondered if he’d been too quick to judge. Then she fumbled with the keys to her locker, dropping them with a clang on the floor, her expression shocked, her discomfort clear. Within seconds she scooped up the keys before double and triple checking the items in her gear bag.

  Gabe blew out a stream of air as he pushed Luke clear of the SWAT team den. “Don’t worry, bro. She’s got ice for blood. Once she gets to the site, she’ll be fine. She’s the one who watches out for us.”

  “Okay, Blue Team, move out.” Sarge’s voice shot into the room.

  The sound of a final few zippers closing echoed through the room. Jazz checked her gear a fourth time and fell in line with her nine teammates. She longed to sneak a butter rum, but on the ride, the close quarters of the SWAT van would give her away. One last time she looked over her shoulder at her locker and the bench in front of it. She hadn’t forgotten anything, yet even after ensuring the state of her equipment multiple times, uneasiness gnawed under her skin like a splinter. She shifted the bag on her shoulder, confirming the weight of her gear.

  She tried to shake off the disquiet as she walked toward the parking lot outside. A quick glance told her Luke’s car had left.

  Good. She couldn’t afford to dwell on what he’d said or how he’d made her feel. The latter she’d forget. The former, well, after the mission, she’d consider the unwelcome possibilities of what had happened tonight. For now, she had a job to do.

  Her vision adjusted to the darkness, and the distinct black SWAT vehicle loomed before her. She didn’t consider asking for help as she jumped in the back. When she was with the team, she wasn’t a w
oman; she didn’t need or want special consideration. She was their protector, not the other way around.

  Jazz slid onto the last seat available in the back of the van next to Gabe, only to find him studying her with disconcerting intensity. The van’s motor roared to life and they sped to the outskirts of the city. Finally she couldn’t take the silence. “Out with it, Gabe. What do you want to know?”

  “Heard you had a close call.”

  “I got through it.”

  “Like a pro.” He leaned toward her, his voice low so no one else could hear him. “I also know there’s a lot more than shots fired going on with you. I need to understand. About Jane. About you.”

  A shudder skittered down her spine. He’d said her name. For twelve years Jane Sanford had been dead. Jazz had fought long and hard to bury the past, and now Luke had resurrected Jane.

  She’d thought she’d escaped—but could she ever really be free? The girl from the wrong side of the tracks in T or C, the girl who’d walked the streets to put food in her belly, that girl no longer existed. Jazz Parker had emerged from the rubble. Why couldn’t everyone just leave her alone?

  “Does it matter, Gabe? I’m still the person I was a week ago.”

  He shook his head, and Jazz’s stomach rolled with nausea. She’d known this would happen. That’s why she’d changed her name. That’s why she’d never trusted anyone with the truth.

  “You’re not the person I thought you were,” he said. “You haven’t been honest, and that changes things. Somehow, this,” he motioned between them, “feels…off.”

  “Nothing in my past affects today. It shouldn’t matter that I changed my name.”

  “I know you must’ve had a good reason, but I don’t get why you hid it from us. We’re supposed to be family, Jazz. The whole team. Families don’t hide secrets from each other. Not about important things.”

  Family. She hadn’t thought he could surprise her, but his statement did more than that. He’d shocked her. She had no family. She couldn’t afford to care that much. Sure the team depended on her, but that wasn’t the same thing.

  Her gaze slid from man to man. There were a few tentative nods, but mostly doubts. She could see them. After what Tower had said, how could the team not wonder? When they discovered the truth would they trust her to protect them? Had Tower destroyed everything already?

  Old fears bubbled up inside her from a dark place, a dark time, when she’d let down the only family she had—her mother. Jasmine could feel the child’s, Jane’s, presence here in this van—Jane’s limitations, Jane’s insecurity, Jane’s failure.

  Jazz couldn’t afford any qualms right now. Every instinct screamed to protect herself from her own weakness—from Jane’s weakness. Jazz had a hostage crisis to deal with. A small farmhouse and family waited, terrorized by a group of gang members. She had to be confident for their sake. She had to save them, like she hadn’t saved…No. She wouldn’t let the memories intrude. Not now.

  “Gabe, this isn’t the place for this discussion.”

  He leveled a knowing look at her. “Then after. Because we will talk, Jazz. We have to.”

  Carl Redmond’s voice rose above the sound of the van’s speeding tires on the narrow road. “Sarge said these guys are Four Corners Hustlers. That’s not good.”

  “You got that right,” Steve Paretti bit out. “The psychos think they’re hot stuff because they swing weapons around.”

  “Kill someone and you’re a full-fledged member. Kill enough and you’re a bloody leader,” Carl muttered.

  “I’ll bet these yahoos were watching the news about the governor’s daughter and decided to make headlines for themselves. I overheard Sarge say they want a million dollars. Idiots. It’s gonna be tough to back them down,” Gabe added.

  A grumble of agreement filtered through the van. No one wanted this standoff to end with a dead hostage.

  Gabe leaned toward Jazz, his voice dropping just above a whisper. “Forget I said anything. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I can see you’re antsy, and neither one of us can afford to be preoccupied.”

  He sent a pointed stare to her leg bouncing nervously. She reined in the movement.

  “We’ll talk later,” he said. “Once we’ve taken care of business.”

  He’d never shown this kind of deference before tonight, before Luke had pulled him aside. “Why the kid gloves all of a sudden? What did Luke say?”

  Her voice rose in anger, and she caught a few quizzical glances thrown her way. Deliberately she lowered her tone. “He implied I couldn’t handle myself tonight, didn’t he? Well, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He doesn’t know me.”

  Gabe couldn’t hide the concern on his face, which annoyed her even more.

  “He still cares about you, and he knows what distractions can do. He’s been through a hell we’ve never imagined. He’s worried, Jazz.”

  “Luke thinks the sniper attack and vandalism’s got me spooked,” she cursed under her breath. “I’m pissed, but I’m not rattled.”

  Gabe clicked his tongue. “I’m not so sure about that. I don’t see the ‘Ice Queen’ sitting next to me, Jazz. Can you push it all aside?”

  The nickname she’d long been proud of fired her fury. He wouldn’t have dared suggest such a thing to one of the guys. Her gut burned. Somewhere in the last few days he’d stopped seeing her as a teammate and started seeing her as weak.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Seriously, nobody would blame you if you didn’t want to be primary tonight. If the situation is getting to you at all, you should turn it over.”

  “When I have to, I can pull it together, Gabe.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Watch me.”

  She closed her eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths. Her imagination dipped her into a lake of tranquility, washing away the worries and memories as if she’d escaped into peace.

  She’d learned the technique early in life, to divorce herself from the worry, the pain. Back then, she’d needed the control to find enough to eat, to outwit the dark side of her mother’s world, to help her bear what was happening to her. Now she used the skill to prepare for battle.

  As if she’d cleansed herself in hot springs, the night’s events, the conversation with Luke slid to the corner of her mind. Moments later she opened her eyes to Gabe’s fascinated expression.

  “Wow,” he said. “That’s freakin’ cool, Jazz. A little scary, but definitely cool.”

  “Okay, you two, break it up.” Paretti leered at them. “Or is there something you’d like to share?”

  Gabe rested his arm on Jazz’s shoulder. “I just want her looking out for me, boys. I was reminding her who’s the quarterback of this team.”

  The van burst into laughter, and Steve Paretti howled over the rest of them, “You wish.”

  “Hey, Paretti, I heard Tower was nosing around today.”

  “Did you get a whiff of him? The guy reeked of perfume. And that smile on his face, no doubt he’d been doing the horizontal mambo with that redheaded angel.” Carl wiggled his eyebrows.

  “She’s a hottie all right,” Steve added. “I’d love to take a peek to see if those curves are real or silicone. Gabe could probably tell us. They were up close and personal.”

  Gabe cleared his throat. “A gentleman never tells tales.”

  “Then you must have lots to say, Montgomery,” Paretti said.

  A fresh bout of laughter erupted, filling the van until the vehicle stopped. At the final squeak of brakes, the antics ceased. Each team member turned his focus toward the job.

  Two by two they jumped out into the dark night, ready to work, steady in purpose.

  They formed a close-knit circle around Sarge. He pulled out an aerial photograph and a map of the surrounding area and shined a narrow beam of light on the layout. The farmhouse stood amidst several barns, a water pump station, a vegetable garden, and clusters of piñon trees.

  Immediately Jazz’s attention turned
to a small hill about a hundred yards to the west of the farmhouse.

  Sarge followed her line of sight. “Good eye, Parker. Take Zone One.”

  Jazz ticked through the procedures. She was ready; she would protect them. “I’m there.”

  “Okay, people, take position,” Sarge said. “Let’s just hope the negotiators can pull this one out and we can get home before dawn.”

  Jazz strode away from the group and climbed the hill. She pulled on her camouflage cloak and made her shadow invisible on the crest, the netting and threads blending into the grass profile as if nature had engineered them both. As she estimated the distance to the farmhouse and to the windows within her sight, she clicked the night optics in place then double-checked the windage and elevation of her Leupold Mark V scope. She adjusted the windage knob two clicks, moving the scope to a perfect position for the distance then did the same with the elevation knob.

  As she lined up her sight, a flash of color sailed past the window. Then she saw them. A family of four cowered in the corner. She could barely make out two small pairs of legs as a man and woman tried to shield their children, but they couldn’t hide the fear. She had a bad feeling about this one.

  “Blue One ready, Blue Leader.”

  “Roger, Blue One.”

  “Blue Two in position,” Gabe’s voice whispered over the intercom system.

  A car’s headlights sped up the road, and she heard a vicious curse from Sarge. She recognized the SUV immediately. Luke.

  “Great. Just what we need. Michaels, set up a perimeter. Keep the press away from here.”

  A couple of uniforms manned their positions, and even from her vantage she recognized Luke arguing with them. His tall, muscular frame towered over the men. He was a lethal weapon. He could’ve thrown the cops aside with a few quick moves, but he didn’t. She shook her head to regain her focus. He wasn’t here because of her. He was here because of the story.

  “Secure, sir.” Michaels’ voice crackled through the intercom.

  “Let’s make it happen, children.”