by Dana Marton
By the time he was rescued, he was mad with pain and more than half-dead from blood loss. And a different man from the one who’d taken that chopper in.
Ex-beauty queen Brianna Tridle needed a man like him about as much as she needed a shot in the head, Jamie thought as he woke, then dressed grimly and got ready to go into the office, then out on patrol again.
He needed to pull back from Bree and keep his distance.
* * *
BREE HAD JUST gotten home with Katie when she got called into work.
“Jesse called in from the liquor store. He caught a fella with a fake bill. He’s holding him at gunpoint. I can handle it if you want,” Lena offered.
Bree always had the weekends off so she could be with Katie. She drew a deep breath as she thought for a second, then came to a decision. “I better go. I’m supposed to liaise with Agent Herrera on the counterfeiting.” She watched Katie go into the kitchen for a snack. “I’ll call Eleanor over to stay with Katie. I need someone to watch the house.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” She hung up and called Eleanor. “Any chance you could come over for an hour or so? I have to go out on a call.”
“Anytime, hon,” her neighbor said on the other end. “You know how much I love that sweet girl. Spending time with her is a pleasure. I’d just be sitting home all lonesome, anyway.”
“You’re going to run into a good man one of these days.”
“I’d take the one you had out in your front yard yesterday.” She chuckled. “If you tire of him, you just send him my way.”
“He’s not my boyfriend or anything,” she started to say, but Eleanor was already ringing the doorbell. “Okay, I’m out here.”
Bree opened the door and they put away their cell phones simultaneously.
“Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
“Just as long as you have cookies in the cupboard.” Eleanor’s sweet tooth was as bad as Katie’s.
“Always.”
“Hi, Katie, sweetie.” The older woman walked in. “I was a little lonely tonight. Mind if I come over? I like your TV better, anyway. It’s bigger.”
That’s how they played it lately, since Katie, twenty-three now, had been asking why she still needed a babysitter. Bree wouldn’t have hurt her feelings for the world, but she wouldn’t compromise her safety, either.
“I’m going to run out for a minute. You two have fun,” she told her sister. “Leave me some cookies.”
Eleanor walked her to the door to lock it behind her.
“Lena will be by in a few minutes,” Bree said. “I just... With the vandalism thing...”
“We’ll be fine,” Eleanor said. “Don’t you worry about us, hon.” Then she added, “So about your young man?” And watched Bree speculatively.
“It’s not like that. He’s just a friend.”
“Honey, a man puts in that kind of labor on your front yard and he doesn’t send you a bill in the mail, it’s more than friendship.”
“It’s not the right time for me for anything more.”
“You can’t still be thinking that. It doesn’t have to be either Katie or a man, Bree. You’re so reasonable and flexible about everything else. You know what a guy like this is called?”
“Jamie?”
Eleanor gave a quick laugh. “A keeper. Think about it.”
She promised nothing, but walked to her car and got in. She glanced back at the house as she waited for Lena.
She wasn’t terribly worried about safety. Jason wanted her. If he ever escalated to the personal-attack stage, he’d be coming after her, and she could handle him.
She waited a few more minutes. Called Lena.
“I’m five minutes away.”
“All right. I’m going to get going here. I don’t like the idea of Jesse holding anyone at gunpoint.”
He was an ornery old geezer who’d had a father and grandfather in the bootlegging business. Jesse had cleaned up his act and took his status as the first upstanding citizen in his family seriously. He was way past retirement age. He claimed he’d owned his small store since before the flood. He protected his turf. He’d been known to put the fear of God into any kid who showed up for liquor with a fake ID.
She called Agent Herrera on her way over. “Got a new counterfeit bill. I’m on my way to pick it up and take a statement from the person who tried to use it.”
“I’ll drive over.”
She gave him the address, then turned down Houston Ave.
A small crowd had gathered in front of the liquor store by the time she pulled up front, gawkers watching through the glass as Jesse kept a young, gangly guy pinned in place by the checkout counter.
“Deputy Sheriff.” She flashed her badge, although most of the people there knew her. “Nothing to see here. Please, disperse.” She got out of the car and strode straight to the door.
She wasn’t scared. It was South Texas. Most everyone out in the country had a gun or two. Most knew how to use it. Jesse was cantankerous, but he wasn’t a hothead.
“It’s Bree. I’m coming in, Jesse.”
She put her hand on the door handle, pushed it in an inch, then said again, “Jesse? It’s Bree. I’m coming in.”
“Come on in, darlin’. I got you one here.”
“I appreciate it. How about you put the gun down?”
Jesse lowered his rifle. “You takin’ him in?”
“You bet.” To get the man away from Jesse, mostly. She turned to the younger guy. This one she didn’t know. “I’m Bree Tridle, deputy sheriff. How about we go down to the station and talk about that twenty?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The kid seemed mighty motivated, looking between the door and her.
“Do you have ID?”
The kid dug into his pocket and handed over his driver’s license. Garret Jones, age twenty-two, lived a few towns over.
“All right, Garret, I’m going to take you in for a short interview.” She looked at Jesse behind the counter and gestured toward the twenty in front of him. “Is that it?”
Jesse nodded. “Yep.”
She pulled a rubber glove from her back pocket, an evidence bag from the right and bagged the money. “I appreciate the call. Go easy with the gun next time. Just a call would be fine,” she added, just as Agent Herrera walked in.
He looked Garret over.
“You want him?” she offered.
“You take him in,” he said. “I’ll ask a few questions here, then I’ll be coming in, too.”
“See you later, then.”
“Thank you, Deputy.”
She got the kid in the back of her cruiser without trouble. He didn’t say a word all the way to the station. She didn’t push him, either. Agent Herrera would be questioning him, although she would ask to sit in on it. Whether counterfeiting fell under the CIA’s jurisdiction or not, whatever happened in her town was her business.
Another hour, she figured. Then she’d be heading back home to Eleanor and Katie. Maybe she would take them to the mall for window shopping. They were all in need of a break.
* * *
JAMIE DROVE DOWN the deserted dirt road along the border. Everything was quiet. He’d been watching the flat expanse of arid land, keeping an eye out for the slightest movement as he talked to Shep over the radio.
“Ever been in love?” The words popped out of his mouth without warning, surprising even himself.
“Repeat that?”
“You ever been in love?”
A stretch of silence followed. “I had girlfriends.”
“I mean real love.”
“Hell, no. Who needs that aggravation?”
Exactly. “Come close?”
Another stretch of silence. “Kind of liked someone. Didn’t work out. Bad deal all around.”
“How bad?”
“She cost me my job, stole my car and set my house on fire. That’s all I’m going to say about that,” he added gruffly. “And I’m go
ing to have to kill you if you ever repeat it.”
“Understood,” Jamie said with full sympathy, sobered more than a little. This was exactly the kind of confirmation he needed. Walking away from Bree was the right thing to do. He’d known that all along. And now Shep agreed.
His phone was buzzing. He glanced at the display. “Gotta go.”
The labs at Homeland Security worked around the clock, and he’d marked his evidence “contact with results immediately.” They were calling back.
“All right, give me the good news,” he said.
“Both envelopes were sent by the same person. Jason Tanner.”
Bree’s old stalker. She was right. Better this Jason guy than the alternative. At least the mess at her house wasn’t connected to the smugglers.
“Thanks.” He hung up, a little relieved. Her stalker had nothing to do with the smuggling. He was free to walk away.
Except, no way was he going to be able to do that, not after kissing her, not after meeting Katie, not after seeing the destruction in her front yard.
Despite his best intentions, he’d somehow gotten tangled.
Oddly, the thought of that didn’t bother him nearly as much as he’d thought it would. Bree was one of a kind. She was... All right, so he had a soft spot for her. There, he’d admitted it. Didn’t mean he had to act on it. Ever again.
While that thought felt very self-righteous, it also felt incredibly depressing.
He was about to call her to let her know about the fingerprints when his police scanner came on. He caught the code first.
Fatal shooting.
Then came the address in a staticky voice, and his blood turned cold. He whipped the car around and shot down the road like a rocket, calling Shep.
“There was a shooting at Bree’s place.”
“Go. I can call Mo to cover for you.”
“Thanks.”
His car couldn’t move fast enough as he flew over the uneven road, his heart thundering in his chest.
When he hit the actual paved roads and had to worry about other cars, he kept hitting the horn in warning, flying around them, putting every bit of his training to use. Then he reached her street and saw the police cars in her driveway for the second time in two days.
Caring about someone was a heart attack and a half, he decided.
He squealed to a halt and jumped out, his blood running cold as he registered the shattered living room window. He pushed his way inside, but an officer stepped in his path.
Then Officer Delancy, coming in behind him, spoke up for him. “He’s with Bree.”
“Where is she? Is she hurt?”
Delancy shook her head.
He could breathe again. “Katie?”
“It’s the neighbor woman.”
He hurried down the hallway and into the living room. An old woman lay on the floor, her chest bloodied, cops securing the crime scene.
He went in as large a circle around them as he could, ran up the stairs. “Bree?”
“In here.” The words came from the back.
He caught sight of a neat master bedroom and sparkling-clean bathroom as he made his way to her, to Katie’s room where Bree was sitting next to her sister on a pretty pink bed.
Katie was rocking, wide-eyed, talking too loudly. “Eleanor. Eleanor. She. She. She...”
“Shh. I know. It’s okay.”
Katie’s gaze flew to Jamie, and the look in her pretty dark eyes broke his heart. “Eleanor is not sleeping.”
“No.”
“You can fix her. With unicorn magic.”
“I can’t, Katie. I’m sorry.”
She rocked harder and moaned, ground her teeth.
He flashed a helpless look to Bree. “What happened? What can I do to help?”
She had shiny tracks on her face. She shook her head as she stood.
He walked over to her, then stopped short. He’d almost pulled her into his arms. But she didn’t want that. She’d been pretty clear about it. He shoved his hands into his pockets instead. That bullet had been meant for her, he knew without a doubt, and the thought about killed him.
“I have to stay with her,” she said in a low tone. “Could you go downstairs and check out what’s going on? There’s an address book in the top drawer of the TV stand. Could you bring that up? I want to be the one to call Eleanor’s brother.”
He nodded. “We’re going to talk about this. It’s gone too far. I’m going to upgrade your security.” She might not want his kisses, but she would have his protection. He had a team. They each could spare a few hours here and there. Starting with him.
She didn’t protest. A good thing, because no way was she going to talk him out of this.
* * *
“DOES IT HURT?” Katie asked.
Bree knew what she meant. “She’s not hurting. It’s not like when you cut your finger. There’s no pain at all in death.”
“She has blood. When I cut my finger, it bleeds and it hurts.”
“Only when you’re still alive.”
“She’s dead.”
“Yes, she is, honey.”
“Why?”
The question was killing her. Jason Tanner. It had to be him. And if he’d been the one to shoot that gun, then she’d been the target. She’d underestimated him, underestimated the danger he posed. But she wouldn’t do that again. She was going to bring the little bastard in.
Sitting inside while other officers processed the destruction outside her house had been difficult the other day. Sitting up here while they processed the crime scene downstairs was nearly impossible. She was a cop, had been a cop for a long time. Everything she was pushed her to go, to hunt, to bring in the man who’d done this.
“Where did Eleanor go?” Katie asked. “The window broke and then she fell down. And then she wasn’t there.”
No, not in the lifeless body, Bree thought. Katie had always been very perceptive about things like that. Looked like the shooter had pulled up to the front and shot Eleanor from his car. An easy distance, and she’d been standing in a lit room.
“She went someplace else,” she told her sister.
“I don’t want her to go someplace else.”
“Me, neither,” she said and blinked back tears. “Do you want to turn on the TV?” She wanted to give her sister something else to think about. Katie wasn’t good with emotions. Grief was hard for her to grapple with. It would take a long time and a lot of talking, a lot of getting used to.
“We don’t watch TV now.”
No. Their favorite shows weren’t on until later. “Maybe we’ll catch a rerun. Something good.”
“Okay.”
She turned on the TV and found a repeat episode of Bones. Katie liked that. Bree wanted to hug her sister, wanted to be hugged in return. She’d almost run into Jamie’s arms earlier, would have done it, but he’d held himself so obviously aloof.
She’d been the one to push him away.
And yet, the fact that he didn’t pull her into his arms still hurt. The exact kind of unreasonable female logic she always hated. She wasn’t a drama queen. She was a deputy sheriff. She was strong and capable. Because she’d always had to be strong and capable for her sister.
But just now, some emotional support would have been great.
A small part of her honestly regretted pushing Jamie away.
Maybe Eleanor had been right and she saw things too much in black-and-white, at least when it came to her private life. Just because her life wasn’t optimal for a long-term relationship, maybe it didn’t mean that she couldn’t have anything.
Except it did. Because she wasn’t the one-night-stand type. When she fell for someone, she fell completely, which always ended up in heartbreak.
She’d accepted that. Accepted that she would give relationships up.
But it hadn’t hurt so much until today.
Jamie popped his head in, address book in hand. He handed it over. “Why don’t you go take care of what you need
to. I’m beat. I wouldn’t mind sitting for a sec.” He glanced at the TV. “Hey, that’s my favorite show,” he told Katie. “Mind if I watch?”
Katie shook her head seriously, and Jamie dropped to the floor in the middle of the room. He was alpha male, a warrior, a doer, the kind of man who would always be first in the line of fire and liked it that way. Yet he understood what she needed, that she needed to be there to handle this. And he pulled back so she could have it.
She moved toward the door. “Thanks.” And then she left, secure in the knowledge that whatever she found downstairs, whatever else happened, nothing would get through Jamie to get to her sister.
Chapter Ten
Agent Herrera was waiting in her office when Bree walked in on Monday after she’d dropped Katie off at work.
“Heard you had trouble at home. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” the agent said.
“I appreciate it. Get anything out of Garret about the fake twenty?”
He shrugged. “He got the money at a gas station. It checks out.” He scratched his jaw. “But Angel Rivera will be a decent lead, it looks like. He’s actually involved, as opposed to coming into connection with the bills unwittingly.”
“Did the hospital release him yet?”
“He’ll be released in an hour or so. I’m taking him into custody and back to Washington.”
“Hope he’ll be more forthcoming with you than he was with me.”
“He’ll talk. If nothing else than for a deal. We got enough on him to put him away for a while. Found a couple of dozen counterfeit bills at his place this morning. Search warrant came through, finally.”
“So are the bills from an old print run, just turning up now?”
He shook his head. “New. High-tech paper and ink. We’ll definitely be tracking that. I expect we’ll find a serious operation.”
“Any clues so far? Are bills showing up anyplace else?” She really didn’t want any of this connected to her town. The last thing she needed was the CIA descending in large numbers.
“I just got a call about similar bills showing up in Arizona and New York. That’s why I’m heading back to the main office. I’ll be putting together a task force and widening the investigation.”
