“APB,” Harrison said under his breath.
“What? Speak loud.” The Russian pushed off the wall. “Do you correct Vlad again?”
“You know what? I did.” Harrison stood. Between bonding over stories about their past and a heart-to-heart over their time at the warehouse, all of which involved too much vodka, he knew in his gut the Russian wouldn’t do anything to him. “It’s APB, which stands for All Points Bulletin.”
“That what Vlad said.”
“No, you said, APP. Depending on the right situation, if you threw that out there people might think you have to take a pee-pee.”
“You know what Vlad think? Vlad think we should part way.”
Harrison’s stomach seized. The only time he’d been on his own and without someone he could trust was during his two years in prison. And he did trust Vlad. The Russian could have left him behind, but he hadn’t. And when it came to Mickey, Vlad had showed extreme remorse. “Remember yesterday and what I told you about Mickey?”
Nodding, Vlad took a drag off his cigarette. “I told you the mouse reminded me of my brother, Erik.” Grief filled his eyes and he released sigh. “It why Vlad didn’t like Mickey. Like Erik he could have done more with life.”
Monday night, while doing shots and arguing about what to do with the laptop, they’d discussed Mickey at great length. Because they were on the run and Harrison knew he wouldn’t have the opportunity to bury his twin without being apprehended by the FBI, with the help of a fifth of vodka he’d done his own version of a eulogy. After he’d finished highlighting all of Mickey’s highs and lows, Vlad had told him about his brother, Erik. Erik had been born ten months after Vlad and they’d been tight—as tight as twins—from the stories Vlad had told. Only Erik had gone in a different direction and was now buried in the family cemetery.
“I’m sorry if I keep correcting you, but that’s a shitty excuse to walk away from doing the right thing.” He drew in a deep breath. “I get why you stayed with Hunnicutt. You had no choice.” Harrison honestly believed this. Vlad was more of an indentured servant than hired help. Hunnicutt had used the Russian and had threatened him and his family. “If you’d rather we go our separate ways, then fine. As for me? I’m going to see this through. If I end up caught, then at least I did the right thing.” He looked away. “It might not keep me from burning in hell, but at least it’ll be off my conscience.”
“Right thing put Harry on row of death.” Harrison looked at Vlad, who chuckled. “Kidding. Vlad know it Death Row. Vlad also know it where Harry heads. But…” He took a long drag off the cigarette. “We do this. Vlad and Harry, we do this. Then go look at pretty women in bikinis.”
Relieved, Harrison grinned. “Awesome. Okay, the sooner we do this, the sooner we can leave. I’ll wipe the computer clean of my prints and put it in that plastic grocery bag I saved. Then we’ll stakeout Rose’s house again.” They’d gone there last night, but she hadn’t arrived yet. When they’d tried again today, they saw her walking inside with a man. “I don’t know anything about that guy she’s with—”
“Vlad been thinking.”
“About?” he asked, using the motel’s thin bath towel to clean the laptop.
“He not FBI like Harry first thought.”
“Then who the hell is he?”
The Russian shrugged. “Vlad think he and other man, one who chased us from warehouse, are together. Think, Harry. That guy chase Vlad and Harry before FBI shows.”
“They caught the signal sent from the BH-Xpress’s server, not the Feds.” He scratched at the three day old beard stubble along his jaw. “Could be another government agency.”
“CIA?”
“The bombings were domestic, but maybe ATF? I guess it doesn’t matter. What does is making sure we get to Rose when he’s not around. I’m not interested in finding out who he works for, I just want to make the drop and get the hell out of here.”
Harrison looked at Vlad’s white-blond hair. “Before we go, I’m wondering what you’d look like if we changed your hair color.”
“Vlad wonder what Harry look like with missing front tooth.”
Harrison shook his head and smiled. “No need to threaten me. All you had to do was say no.”
“No.”
“Well, if we’re not already, I guarantee we’ll be on the FBI’s most wanted list soon. It’s not like you blend in.”
“No dark hair.” Vlad ran a hand over his cropped hair. “Unless Harry shave head bald.”
“Fine. We’ll keep our hair. But when we get to Florida, we’re going to have to get rid of the car.”
“No.”
“It’s too conspicuous.” Yesterday morning, while Harrison nursed his hangover, Vlad took the ten grand he’d had stashed at the apartment and went in search of a car. Two hours later, and thirty-three hundred dollars poorer, he’d driven up in an olive green 1966 Oldsmobile Toronado. “Unfortunately you probably won’t make your money back, but—”
“No. Vlad love car. Much better than teeny-tiny Focus.”
Satisfied he’d wiped off all of his prints, Harrison placed the laptop in the plastic bag. “The interior and exterior are the same color as boogers. At least consider having it painted. Black would work.”
Vlad drew out another cigarette. “Maybe.”
“Please don’t light that.”
The Russian rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes. Harry worry over laptop.”
“No. I worry about your health. Besides, we need to wipe down the room and get rid of our fingerprints. It’s less than a forty minute drive to the Florida border. If Rose is alone, we can be drinking daiquiris at a beach bar by Happy Hour.”
Vlad put the cigarette back in the pack and retrieved a bath towel. “Vlad like the sound of that. But, what if man there all night?”
Harrison stopped wiping the table he’d been sitting at and rubbed the tension at the base of his neck.
He did not want to hurt the man. There had been enough killing already this week, and it was only Wednesday. They needed to make sure they gave Rose the laptop, and they also had to do it in person. Not interested in leaving any additional evidence behind, he wanted to tell her where the last three bombs were located rather than write a note or leave a message. With the way the laptop program worked, the locations weren’t listed. The codes were, but they’d been encrypted. Sure, the FBI or whoever had found his original signal could likely break those codes, but he didn’t want to run the risk of them taking too long and one of those explosives accidentally going off or, God forbid, a kid finding one.
Harrison thought about where Santiago and Mickey had planted the last device. About how many kids in the Norfolk area were on spring break and how warm the weather had been this week. Damn. About how the Virginia Zoo had picked this week to celebrate their long awaited elephant exhibit.
News clips from the Coolidge Middle School bombing ran through his head. Unease settled in the pit of his stomach as he reached for the duffle bag Vlad had brought with them.
“We’ve got guns,” he said, the weight of the weapons in the bag bringing him some semblance of security.
Vlad moved his jacket slightly. “And knife.”
Harrison swallowed hard as he stared at the sheathed dagger clipped to Vlad’s belt. “No matter what, he’ll cooperate.”
*
Jake slumped onto the patio chair and wondered what the hell he’d done wrong. It had been about forty-five minutes since he’d left Naomi’s bed, forty-five long minutes since she’d admitted to not only having consensual sex with Hunnicutt, but the gruesome details behind the forced abortion. When he’d first learned about the abortion while at the warehouse, he’d wanted to remove Hunnicutt’s balls with a piece of jagged glass. Instead, he’d followed orders and remained on the other side of the door, waiting for the moment he could strike. That moment never came. Now that Hunnicutt was in custody, the justice he’d planned to serve would forever remain a sick fantasy. Although he had vengeance on the brain,
going vigilante and killing the bastard wasn’t worth going to prison. He and Naomi had already spent too many years apart because of Hunnicutt.
Now, for some reason, she was hardly speaking to him. Maybe dredging up the past had taken its toll on her. What she’d been through had been beyond traumatic and something no woman should ever have to experience. If she needed space, he’d give it to her. If she wanted to talk, he’d listen.
He reached for the iced tea on the table and tried to ignore his grumbling stomach. His search for something to make for lunch had resulted in a couple of frozen burgers, wilted lettuce and stale bread. Monday morning, they’d left in such a hurry, neither of them had bothered to put away the breakfast stuff Naomi had setting on the kitchen counter. When they’d been rushing to leave and catch the jet to Chicago, neither had noticed the refrigerator door hadn’t been completely shut. The best he could probably do for lunch would be to make a can of cream of chicken soup and pop a bag of popcorn.
After setting the glass of tea on the table, he looked out at her spacious backyard. The woman he loves had just told him how a mass murder had violated her, and here he sat contemplating what to make her for lunch.
Fucking pathetic.
He rubbed his temple and watched two squirrels chase each other up a tree. Instead of worry about feeding her, maybe he should get off his ass and go talk to her. What he’d say, he didn’t know. Now that he thought about it, listening to the exchange between Naomi and Hunnicutt had almost been easier than holding Naomi in his arms and not only hearing the anguish in her voice, but seeing the fear in her eyes as she relived that horrible night. Lying in bed with her, picturing everything that had happened to her had been utter hell.
He hadn’t known what to say, so he’d kept his emotions and reactions in check—for her. He’d wanted to be strong, to let her know that anything she told him wouldn’t change how he felt about her. She’d been trying to protect him for too many years, and he’d been hell bent on proving he didn’t need that protection. That he could handle the truth and move forward—with her. Which was the absolute truth. Was he disappointed they couldn’t have kids? Yeah. Would he sacrifice spending the rest of his days with Naomi over it? Hell, no.
To finally have her in his life again was all he’d wanted. He’d thought he made that clear when they’d flown into Norfolk, and had thought he’d made his stance equally clear before they’d made love. He had her back. He loved her. He wanted to be with her no matter the circumstances.
The patio door slid open. He turned just as Naomi stepped outside. Her long hair, still damp from her shower, was pulled over one shoulder. Her eyes were puffy, as if she’d been crying. Damn it, had he been the reason for the tears?
He quickly stood and reached for her. She let him hold her, but gave him a limp hug and a pat on the back.
She fucking patted him on the damned back.
He held her at arm’s length. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
Knowing she was a good liar, he wanted to call bullshit, but refrained. If he was the reason for the way she was acting, now wasn’t the time to start an argument. “I told you to take a nap.”
She stiffened and stepped away. “And I told you I couldn’t sleep.”
Right. Shit, she was pissed and he didn’t need an anvil to the head to figure out it was because of something he had or hadn’t said. “So, did you get in touch with your school’s principal?”
He caught her eye roll before she moved toward the faucet just off the brick patio. “Yes,” she said, picking up the hose and turning on the nozzle. “I told him I had a family emergency that might require me to take an extended leave of absence.” She sprayed the pink and white azalea bushes in the flowerbed. “He didn’t think it’d be a problem to find a replacement, which I don’t doubt. I got lucky with my job. This is a good school system, and I have a decent salary and great benefits.”
Although eager to bring Naomi to Chicago and finally make his condo feel more like a home once she was living in it, her lack of enthusiasm dampened his excitement. “That’s great. Not to push you, but when do you think you’ll be ready to leave?”
“When does Ian want you back?”
Yesterday. “I’ll need to be at work Monday morning.”
She shifted the hose from the azaleas to the tulips and daffodils. “Well, if you need to go, I can fly in on my own later next week.”
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, before that anvil came dangerously close to whacking his thick head. What the hell was he missing? Should he have said more after she’d told him about what Hunnicutt had done to her? He’d wanted to. Actually he’d wanted to stop her, save her from having to relive the terrifying experience, and confess what he’d already known. He also believed that sometimes a confession could cleanse the soul.
Because the abortion had left her unable to have children, and was a huge deal for her and their future, he hadn’t wanted to take that admission away from her. In his mind, it would have been like letting her start a joke, but interrupting her with the punch line. Only this was no joke. Her mental and emotional health ranked top on his list of priorities. Making sure she made it through a trial that would likely be long and drawn out, was of utmost importance to him. Giving her the comforts of a new home, starting a new life together…he wanted to make sure he did everything right by her, but he wasn’t a mind reader. With the way she continued to ignore his question and drown her flowers, he wished he were.
He walked over to her. After taking the hose from her, he shut off the nozzle. “Talk to me.”
“I’m sorry. Everything is catching up with me,” she said, her tone flat, her gaze on the muddy flowerbed.
“Naomi, if I did something—”
“You’re fine.” She finally looked at him and gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s me. I have a lot to think about. Too much. I love my house and my job…the kids at school. Don’t get me wrong, I’m looking forward to staying with you in Chicago, I guess I just need time to adjust.”
Staying with him in Chicago. Not moving in with him. His chest tightened with unease. What the hell happened to always? “Take whatever time you need. When you’re ready, I’ll help you pack and hire movers. I like your furniture better than mine. We can sell my stuff and—”
“Let’s not do anything drastic yet. I think I’d like to keep my house until after the trial is over.”
He dropped the hose on the grass and wiped his hands on his jeans. “It could be a year, maybe longer before there’s even a trial, and who knows how long that’ll drag out.” He placed his hands on her upper arms. “I told you, I won’t walk away without a fight.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” she said softly, her eyes holding hints of both relief and sadness.
What the hell did that mean? Was she already predicting they’d have issues? Less than an hour ago they’d been making love, making confessions and renewing their commitment to each other. Now she acted as if none of those things had happened.
“It won’t,” he said, giving her arms a gentle squeeze, before pulling her in for a hug.
He didn’t understand what had happened, but assumed her current mood and the way she’d suddenly guarded herself had to do with the abortion. Maybe between dredging up those memories while still dealing with the aftermath of the bombings had been too much for her. From where he stood, their future looked bright. If he were to put himself in her position, he could understand her lack of commitment and her air of hopelessness. He could also understand why she might hesitate to leave Georgia. Moving to Chicago with him would take her away from her safety net. If only she realized he could be her safety net.
After pulling back, he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You need to eat something.”
“I’m fine.”
“You haven’t had anything since yesterday evening and I noticed you’d picked at your dinner. Come on, I’ll drive you to the
grocery store. If we’re staying until Monday, we’ll need to stock your fridge.”
Her eyes widened as if she were panicked by the thought of leaving. “I…I’m tired. Do you mind if I stay here and take a nap?”
Sensing she might want some time alone, he nodded. “Make me a list?”
“Sure,” she said, crossing her arms and heading into the house.
While he put the hose away, he wondered if maybe he’d pushed her too hard and expected too much. Or maybe he was blowing her reaction out of proportion. Damn, he didn’t know. Whatever the case, he didn’t like the way she’d distanced herself from him. Not when they finally had the chance to be together again.
“Here’s the list,” she said, handing him a piece of paper when he walked back inside the house. “Thanks for going. Let me get my purse and give you some cash.”
He shoved the list in his back pocket. “I’ve got it covered.” He leaned forward and gave her a kiss. When she puckered up and kissed him back, some of his unease disappeared and he realized he needed to get out of his head and quit overanalyzing everything she said or did. With everything that had happened to her, Naomi was bound to have both good and bad days. He’d just have to make sure she knew he’d be there for her no matter what kind of day she was having.
After saying good-bye, he climbed into the SUV he’d rented that morning, then headed into town. As he drove through her quiet development and then through the quaint town, he had to admit to loving Woodbine. He loved Chicago, too. After spending years as a sheriff in a backwater town, city life appealed to him. He liked not knowing everyone he passed on the street, liked having variety when it came to restaurants and nightlife. He even liked his job.
He parked the rental outside the grocery store and shook his head. He’d been so damned angry with Ian for forcing him into working at CORE. But seeing how Ian and the other agents had worked quickly to resolve and help apprehend Hunnicutt, he realized he, once again, needed to set his pride and ego aside. CORE gave him opportunities he’d never have if he’d remained in Michigan. He loved solving cases, just not ones that involved his woman. The agency also gave him a sense of belonging. The last time he’d experienced that had been with the Marines.
Ultimate Kill (Book 1 Ultimate CORE Trilogy) (CORE Series) Page 32
