Taking Care of the Target

by Cindi Madsen

  Since taking it into a courthouse was probably a good way to end facedown on the floor in handcuffs, she let go of the strap and slammed the trunk, having to do it again when it didn’t quite latch.

  With each step she made toward the building, the throbbing pulse behind her temples increased. By the time she reached the metal detectors, her hands shook so much that she fumbled with her Kate Jones ID.

  She noticed two guys in suits standing off to the side, eagle eyes on every person who came through, and the pink tie snagged her attention. Agent McVee hadn’t seemed very happy about her color choice, but she needed one not many men would wear to court. His gaze skimmed over Cassie to a blond woman, who he assessed and dismissed, and then moved to the next person.

  Score, my disguise works! She strode over to the two men, and Agent McVee’s brow furrowed as he tried to look around her. Then his eyes bugged out a little, and she couldn’t help but smile. He smacked his partner’s arm, and then both of them stared at her.

  “Thought I’d take a few extra precautions,” she said, swiping her bangs off her face. “Hate for anyone to spot me too soon, you know?”

  “I can’t decide if ‘nice to finally meet you’ fits,” Agent McVee said, extending his hand. “But glad to see you definitely does.”

  Cassie shook his hand. “Well, you’ve been a pain in my butt, too, if that makes you feel any better.”

  He chuckled. “It does, actually. And I thought Vince was stubborn in his negotiations. If you want bragging rights, you earned them.”

  Cassie’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. “He’s here?”

  “You know this isn’t exactly ethical. I must be insane to even let it happen.”

  “Not insane,” Cassie said. “Motivated. When it comes down to it, we all want the same thing—to see Carlo Rossi go to jail for life. Now, if you’ll kindly not quite ‘find me’ until after I talk to Vince, I’ll answer any and every question you care to ask.”

  ***

  Vince sat at a table that took up most of the small room at the courthouse, wondering why the hell the feds had dragged him down here before he was supposed to testify. He leaned back in the cushy chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

  He hadn’t been sleeping much. He and Bobby were holed up in a two family house with a US Marshal, and the trial weighed on his mind constantly.

  He tried to focus on how far Carlo had pushed him, the times he’d used Bobby against him, and how he’d been partially to blame for Dad’s death, but once in a while memories of living at Carlo’s house would crop up instead. Dinners under his roof. Watching ballgames on the couch together.

  Then he’d have to remind himself that if Carlo had his way, the lie he told about shooting Cassie and burying her body in the woods would be a reality, and his resolve would strengthen.

  Bobby knew everything now, including what happened with Cassie. He surprised Vince by telling him he’d do whatever he needed to help, even testify. But putting him on the stand meant his arrests and drug use coming to light, so the Assistant US Attorney felt like it might do more damage than good. The lawyer added his name as a witness just in case. He said you could never have too many possible witnesses.

  Vince opened his eyes, looked at the blank wall across from him, and rapped his fingers on the table. Not having a job or anything else to do didn’t help with the antsy-ness. The only thing keeping him going was the idea of leaving Jersey as soon as this was all over and finding Cassie.

  He didn’t let himself think about what would happen if Carlo didn’t go to prison, since that meant being with Cassie would only put her in danger again, and the same with not being able to find her. Because if he let those thoughts creep in and take root, he didn’t know if he could do what he needed to over the next week or month, or however long this took.

  They’d already selected the jurors. People had been hesitant to serve given Carlo’s reputation and the nature of the crimes. No one wanted to be his next target or put their families at risk, so the judge ruled that they’d be sequestered and known only by number. Opening statements and the display of evidence would be presented today, and as soon as tomorrow—but definitely within the next few days—Vince would be testifying.

  The ticking clock in the room made an inordinate amount of noise. Not that he had anything better to do, but each tick reminded him that his life was slowly being drained a second at a time.

  These law types love the hurry up and wait game. If this trial drags out for very long, I’m going to be insane by the end.

  He’d just folded his arms on the table and rested his head on them when he heard the door crack open. Heeled footsteps followed, and he gave a half-glance in the woman’s direction. “Another lawyer? Really?”

  “You could always use one more person on your side, don’t you think?”

  Vince’s muscles stiffened. He must be going crazy, because the new lawyer sounded like Cassie. He looked at her again as she took another step toward him. I’m definitely cracking up. She doesn’t even look like Cassie.

  “Just ask your questions so we can get this over with,” he said.

  Her hand came down on his shoulder, and he tensed again. Lawyers weren’t normally so intimate.

  And they wouldn’t send someone new without letting him know.

  He grabbed her hand, spun as he stood, and pinned her to the wall, looking for a weapon.

  ***

  Before Cassie was allowed inside, a guard had searched her for weapons. Her cheeks had grown hot as he frisked her, certain he was going above and beyond with his very thorough examination.

  Vince’s frisking sent an entirely different kind of heat through her. “Nice to see you, too,” she said. “I forgot how hands-on you are. Guess you don’t need an extra bodyguard after all.”

  Vince’s eyes snapped to hers, and he blinked, the crinkle of confusion and suspicion so sexy she stopped breathing. Who needed oxygen anyway?

  Ever so slowly, he reached up and dragged his fingertips down the side of her face, his disbelief clear. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, but before she could respond, he captured her mouth with his.

  The familiar, intoxicating brush of whiskers combined with the touch of his soft lips sent the world spinning off its axis, everything blurring around them until the only thing that existed was the reacquainting of tongues and limbs and bodies. She no longer knew which breaths were hers or his or where she stopped and he began, only that for the first time in months, everything was completely right. She figured if they never stopped kissing, they could call it one kiss. Then they wouldn’t have to deal with any of the sucky stuff that would happen after.

  “You need to go before anyone finds out you’re here,” he said, but he gripped her butt, boosted her in his arms, and kissed her again. “I should yell at you.” Another kiss as he pressed her against the wall. “Of all the stupid”—his lips touched her neck—“reckless…” He nipped at her ear, and she clung on to him, sure she’d fall if she didn’t hold on, even though he had her fully pressed against the wall, not enough space to slip. “But we’ll set up a meeting spot this time. For after the trial. Then just wait for me. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, and he plunged his tongue inside, sweeping it against hers until she didn’t remember how to talk.

  Then the stupid knock on the door interrupted everything, and before she could even try to rearrange her disheveled clothing, Agents McVee and Mancini walked in.

  “Ah, Cassandra Dalton,” Agent McVee said. “Imagine finding you here. We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Vince pushed her behind him as if he planned on fighting the two FBI agents if they came any closer. Shit, he probably did.

  Cassie wrapped her hand around his biceps, trying not to get distracted by the rock-solid muscle there. “It’s okay. They’re the only reason I got to see you first. I’m testifying against Mr. Rossi.”<
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  “No.” Vince spun and took her face in his hands. “Baby, it’s too dangerous.”

  “What good does it do me if you put everything on the line and he still gets away with murder? I’m here to ensure that doesn’t happen. If you love me, you’ll let me do this.”

  He scowled.

  “Not so easy to be on the other side of that statement, huh? Look, I tried to start over, but I realized it was too late. Can’t start over when your heart is somewhere else.” Heat crept into her cheeks, and she tried not to think about their audience. How could she say everything she wanted to in such a short time?

  We’ll have more time later tonight. And once this is done, we’ll have nothing but time.

  She placed her hands on the sides of his waist. “I know being here’s dangerous, but we’ll have constant protection. And hey, at least this time I remember why people want to kill me.” Vince didn’t seem to find that very funny. She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “We’ll get through this together.”

  Agent McVee cleared his throat. “Look, we’re walking a fine line here. If we blur the rules too much, there could be a mistrial. I won’t let that happen. We need to get Cassandra’s statement, and then she needs to meet with the AUSA when he gets out of court and repeat it to him, so we can work it into the plan as soon as possible.”

  Cassie gave Vince’s hand a quick squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you tonight. You just have to tell Agent McVee that it’s okay for me to know where you are, and that you want me to be under protection with you, and he’ll let the U.S. Marshals know. Considering the shakedown I got, I’m assuming you’ve cleared me?”

  Finally, she got a smile. Then he leaned down and whispered, “Just to be safe, we better schedule a private one in my room later tonight.”

  ***

  Vince paced the partially finished living room of the place on Monmouth Street where he and Bobby had been staying for the past month. The U.S. Marshals picked the spot because they wanted them to be close to the courthouse—a quick four or five minute drive—but not walking distance, or close enough someone could easily stumble across their location if they were canvasing the neighborhood, like Carlo’s associates probably were.

  Red, squished together townhouses that had been around for at least a hundred years lined the other side of the street. They were trying to cram a few updated two-family type houses on this side, and the green, in-progress one they were currently staying in hadn’t had any occupants yet.

  Deputy Florez, the former linebacker responsible for their safety during the trial sat in the corner, his gaze tracking Vince’s progress across the room. The guy was chill enough, but Vince still hated the thought of being guarded at all. He’d always taken care of himself just fine.

  “Bro, relax,” Bobby said. “You’re going to wear a hole in the brand new floor.

  “If they don’t bring Cassie over soon, I’m going to punch a hole through the door and go hunt her down.” It’d been hours since she surprised him at the courthouse, and right now, it seemed more like a dream than something that had actually happened. He’d stared at her face thinking nothing was quite right, yet everything was familiar. Her voice and the way she delivered the lines helped him see through the changes, despite the different colored eyes and hair, and the fact that she’d thinned down a bit, even in her face.

  I should’ve insisted on staying at the courthouse until she left, no matter what anyone said.

  The squeal of brakes caught his attention. Hooking a finger in the blinds, he pulled them down and peered out the window. Relief flooded him when Cassie stepped out of the car. Irritation followed when he noticed the cop with her. Officer Duffy obviously wanted his nose broken, because he put his hand on the small of Cassie’s back, where Vince’s should be. The pink and gray backpack Vince gave her all those months ago hung off one shoulder, and Duffy grabbed hold of a black suitcase.

  Deputy Florez unholstered his pistol.

  “It’s just Cassie and an annoying pig who follows her around,” Vince said, moving for the door. Deputy Florez shot him a stern look—most likely for trying to break protocol and the pig comment. The deputy insisted on answering the door and finally let in Cassie.

  Vince didn’t waste any time pulling her into his arms. Real. Here. Her determination was written across her features earlier today, so he figured he’d simply hold on instead of lecturing her, even though he still wanted to scold her over what an unsafe move she’d made.

  She turned to Bobby, and the beautiful, familiar smile that spread across her lips was another reminder that despite the changes, it was his Cassie. “Bobby!” She took two large steps and hugged him.

  Bobby returned the gesture and then ran his gaze up and down her—in more of a confused way than checking her out, so Vince decided to let it slide. “You look…completely different. I didn’t think I was that messed up when I met you, but weren’t you blond?”

  She laughed. “You look pretty different, too. Sober totally works for you.”

  “Yeah. I won’t blame you if you decide to leave Vince for me.” Bobby ran a hand down his shirt. “Rehab took my killer looks and pushed them into irresistible territory.”

  “Very funny.” Vince tugged Cassie back to him, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her so she was against his chest, facing out. He looked over her head at Duffy. “She’s good, so you can go now.”

  “Vince and Bobby DaMarco, in the flesh,” Duffy said. “Weren’t the two of you always in the back of my dad’s cop car?”

  Vince tensed, and Cassie gripped his arms, keeping them around her. “Remember what I said about being nice, Tom?” She glanced over her shoulder at Vince. “That goes all around.”

  Duffy reached for the doorknob. “My partner and I will be in an unmarked car on the street keeping watch all night. But you’ve got my number if you need it.” He nodded at her and finally left, and Deputy Florez went to work locking the place up tight again.

  “I had to call him for information before making my plans to return for the trial, and he asked to be put on the detail,” Cassie said.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Vince said.

  “But you were thinking about it.” She spun in his arms and kissed him. He twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. He couldn’t get over it. She still looked sexy, blond or brunette, but admittedly, he didn’t like that her eyes didn’t look like hers, even as he admired how far she went to transform herself.

  “You learned to stick your finger in your eye.”

  “Apparently I’ll do crazy things to get back to you. Even do a reverse Clark Kent and shed the glasses for gross eye-touching.” Cassie dropped her bag on the floor by the couch and pulled him to sit next to her.

  “So you’re Superman now?” Vince teased, nuzzling her neck.

  “Superwoman, thank-you-very-much.” Cassie patted the spot next to her, instructing Bobby to sit and tell her how her friend Annie was doing, and the three of them spent several minutes catching up.

  Vince could tell by the way she talked about the people she met in Oklahoma that she’d been happy, and he was in awe she still came back for him. God he loved her.

  When the conversation slowed, she rested her head on his shoulder.

  He curled her closer and kissed her forehead. “If you boys will excuse us, Cassie and I need to have a private meeting. And you might want to turn up the TV while we have it.”

  Red flared across Cassie’s cheeks. “Vince!”

  “What? It’s not like they don’t know what’s about to happen.”

  “Keep it up, and it’s going to be nothing.”

  He laced his fingers with hers and pulled her to her feet. “In case anyone’s wondering, I’m going to go show Cassie how you can see a part of Assunpink Creek from my bedroom window. We visited it on one of our dates, so then we’ll probably just smile at each other for a while as we reminisce on that special memory.”

  She blushed again and shook
her head. He’d missed the way the color bled into her cheeks like that. Missed everything about her, actually. She turned him into a sappy fool, and he didn’t even care.

  They climbed the stairs, and as soon as they reached the landing, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into his temporary bedroom. He kicked the door closed and tossed her onto the bed.

  A tiny squeal escaped her as he dove on top of her. He kissed her, taking the extra minutes they were denied earlier. One by one, she lost the jacket, shoes, and pants. At the sight of her lacy red thong he grew even harder, straining against the zipper of his jeans.

  He peeled off her silky tank top, revealing a matching red bra. “Damn, I missed you. And I’m not just saying that because you’re almost naked. But I missed naked you, too. I do kind of feel like I’m cheating with the brunette version of you.”

  The corner of her mouth kicked up, and he slipped one of her bra straps off her shoulder. “Wait,” she said, pushing him away as he reached for her other one. “You have to catch up.”

  He lowered his eyebrows. “Catch up?” Didn’t they already do that downstairs?

  “On nakedness.” She scooted out from under him, sat on her knees, and grabbed the hem of his shirt. She lifted it over his head and tossed it aside. She traced the puckered pink line where her knife had gone in. “I should’ve made you get stiches. I still feel so bad that I—”

  He cut her off with a kiss. “Don’t worry about it. Chicks dig scars.”

  “Not when they’re the ones who gave them to you.” Cassie bent down and pressed her lips over it.

  He groaned in relief and anticipation when she undid the button of his jeans and lowered the zipper. Dizziness set in as she cupped him over his underwear. Then her fingers traveled up—too high—and she dragged her fingertips over the skin just above the waistband of his boxers, teasing him until he couldn’t take it anymore.