Ghost's Treasure

by Cheyenne Meadows

  He lightened his hold on her head but didn't release her completely. Instead, he seemed to search her face until he found an answer he needed. "I'm a SEAL, lady. Not a soldier."

  "Oh." Her breathless voice carried easily in their close quarters. She kicked her muddled brain into gear. That simple word explained so much. The top of their class, SEALs were basically highly trained killers, able to infiltrate and rescue anywhere in the world, familiar with languages, weapons, and the workings of human minds. Their playground consisted of physical and mental challenges very few could survive and declare victory. The information only impressed her all the more. "If all SEALs kiss like that… Wow." She grinned up at him. "You'd make a fortune in a kissing booth."

  * * * *

  He opened his mouth to berate her for pushing him to this point only to clamp shut again. Once again she surprised him, tumbled him off balance with her sincere, yet zany compliment. Seeing the appreciation on her face, feeling her avid response, the glow to her face, he didn't have the heart to offer up a scathing retort and watch the life was sucked out of her.

  Later, he might call himself all sorts of fool, but for the moment, he could only summon a less than lukewarm chastisement. Even those words seemed too harsh. Damned if he didn't feel the same way. Something about Josie blew warmth over his heart and cracked open a place he previously welded shut for all time.

  His chin dropped as he realized somehow Josie not only snuck under his skin, but she pried loose emotions he locked away years ago. Whether he liked it or not, this little assignment made a huge dent in his life.

  Almost at a loss of words, he stood transfixed, watching her green eyes sparkle. Once their color had caused a wave of unbearable pain to wash over him. Now they captured his interest and brought a good amount of amusement and pleasure. Still, he needed to warn her, make her understand their time would be limited together before they each returned to their global opposite lives.

  "Look, Josie…"

  She waved him off. "There's no sense in apologizing. As you can tell, I happened to like your kisses. If you're going to say this can't happen again, I'd rather not hear those words."

  "It can't. I'm not the man for you." He ran one hand through his hair, finding this topic more difficult than he expected.

  "Why do you think that?" She crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

  "Because you keep painting me as a hero, as an extraordinary man. I'm the farthest from such a thing."

  "But…"

  "I'm not noble. I'm a killer. Hell, I've spent some time in jail." She blinked but remained quiet. "That's right. I have an arrest record. After Lindsay died, I was lost. Took every mission thrown my way, determined if someone had to forfeit his life, it should be me since I had nothing else to live for." He turned around to stare out the window. "Yet no matter the odds, I survived, my will to live undented despite the fact I was lifeless inside. After a while, I grew tired of the missions, decided to leave the military, try to find a new one, to move on, to finally discover an outlet for the unending pain."

  "What did you do?" Josie whispered.

  "Drinking didn't help. Neither did being around friends. They meant well, but I couldn't handle their pity, their apologies for what happened, the looks of worry in their eyes. So I took off. Traveled around aimlessly, no real direction, just searching for my niche. Spent lonely nights with hot, willing women, only to rise before dawn and move on. Before long, even the physical release wasn't enough of an escape." He sighed and shifted his weight, refusing to turn around to look at her while telling his story. "A bar fight landed me in jail. Pissed at life, I carried a chip on my shoulder and lost most of my common sense. The small town sheriff ran my background, then sat down and read me the riot act. By the time he finished, I felt like a rebellious teen being taken down a notch by his father." He puffed out a breath. "That's when my life turned around. I buried my feelings and met up with a man the sheriff recommended as a possible job. Tucker. A career assassin with retirement on his mind. He took me in, taught me a few tricks of the trade, used my SEAL training to his advantage, and set me on the road to my profession."

  With a sigh, he watched a bird searching through the backyard grass for a snack. "Don't put me on a pedestal because that's the last place I belong. I kill people for a living. Period. One day, I'll go to hell for my sins."

  Hushed footfalls carried to his ears. Josie moved to stand at his side, angled enough to stare up into his face. Slowly, she reached up with her hand and cupped his cheek with such tenderness his heart wept. Her expressive eyes and face told him what she thought of his story. Compassion. Understanding. And damn reverence.

  "Seems to me you've done a very good job at surviving what would have killed most people. War. Battles. Special ops missions. The tragic loss of your wife and child, and mother. An average person would have crumbled or gone mad." She caressed his five o'clock shadow with her thumb as she met his gaze steadily. "You're strong, Ghost. Always have been, always will be. Just to become a SEAL takes more courage and gumption than ninety-nine percent of Americans have. To go through what you did took guts and strength. Yes, you're an assassin. Because someone has to take out the evil forces in this world. You do a job few want or have the skills to do adequately in order to protect the rest of us." A slow smile appeared on her face. "So berate me all you want about how you aren't good enough or man enough. I'll tell you right now, you're the best man I've ever met, inside and out."

  "You've been around damn few men then."

  She shrugged. "Enough to know the difference."

  "Then you better take off your rose-colored glasses and see the real world." His voice lacked anger or inflection of contempt. Instead, the words came out as a weak attempt to repel her views.

  His phone rang, interrupting the conversation. She dropped her hand, but held her position as Ghost first checked the caller ID, then answered. "Yeah."

  Ryan's voice came through clear. "We need to meet. ASAP."

  "What's going on?" Concern flashed over him. He hated last minute changes and mysterious phone calls. They never boded well.

  "Not over the phone. In person."

  Ghost sighed. "Fine. Grocery store on James and Lynn. Forty-five minutes. Northwest corner of the lot."

  "I'll be in the green SUV waiting." Ryan clicked off, leaving Ghost with an ominous feeling. Whatever the other man had to say must be important and full of bad news. The back of his neck itched.

  Chapter 26

  Ghost pulled into the back of the grocery store parking lot, aiming straight for the deep green SUV Ryan informed them he'd be driving. He pulled up right beside him so the cars faced opposite directions, allowing for Ryan and Ghost to converse easily without having to move an inch.

  After rolling down his window, Ghost cut the engine, his focus on Ryan's stoic face, which carried a hint of frustration. He didn't have anything good to impart.

  "Get in. I have news."

  Ghost nodded to Josie, waited for her to exit the passenger seat, then followed suit. Once she slid into the second row of seats in Ryan's vehicle, he took the shotgun position and shut the door behind him. "What's up?"

  "We know who's financing your tangos. Shirley Blarney. Seems her fingerprints were on the tracking pen, too."

  "Never heard of her."

  "Me, either," Josie added in from the back.

  "Probably not, but maybe this one will ring a bell. Striker."

  Ghost's heart stuttered. The man's reputation preceded him. "An assassin extraordinaire who doesn't concern himself with which side of the law he stands as long as the money's good." He glimpsed worry on Josie's face before focusing back on Ryan. "How do you know he's involved?"

  "Funny thing about the man who escaped from the cabin. According to him, he returned to tell Ms Blarney what happened. Seems she became angry, declared him incompetent, and refused to pay him for services rendered. Pissed him off enough to blow the horn to the FBI."

  "Are you sure he'
s reliable?"

  "Described the cabin and what transpired in detail. Even spoke about you, your jacket, your rifle, things he had to have been there to know."

  Ghost processed this information carefully.

  "Any chance it's a setup?" Josie asked.

  "Not that we can see." The blond-haired FBI agent turned his gaze from Josie to Ghost once more. "Word is Striker will have you in his crosshairs soon, eliminate you, take the girl, and collect the treasure come hell or high water."

  His gut clenched at the words. Not fear but something stronger and more resilient. Anger, pride, and a boiling cauldron of rage, which once again lashed and splashed to get out. An all too familiar sensation over the past few years.

  Everything he heard about Striker made for a law-abiding citizen's nightmare. He moved like a shadow, never staying in the same place for long. Word on the street was he had so many notches on his rifle he had to buy another to have room to keep count. Determined as a bull dog, he refused to give up on a target until the unlucky individual lay six feet under.

  A challenging foe who would lead an epic battle until only one of them would emerge alive.

  Realizing the situation just deteriorated to crap, he made a quick decision. "Josie's out of it right now."

  "Wait. No." She sat forward in her seat.

  He shook his head and silenced her with a stern stare. "Striker's a professional hit man with few his equal. Like Ryan said, he'll come for me first. I'll need all my faculties and skills to thwart him without the distraction of trying to provide cover and protection for you."

  "I… I'm not worth your life." She finally whispered the words.

  Somewhere in his chest, warmth blossomed and radiated, heat replacing a frozen heart. He cursed under his breath as he grappled with the urge to wrap Josie in his arms, to hold her and reassure her. Promise her that she was indeed worth his life and more, though he had no intention of dying in the confrontation. When did she sneak under my skin? Made him not only care but realize his long buried emotions still existed, patiently waiting for the right moment to appear.

  A lump formed in his throat as he forced himself to hold strong.

  Ryan looked from him to Josie, then back again. "I'll place her with Lark and Bryce. They'll watch her like a hawk."

  Ghost nodded. "That'll do. We need a plan to make Striker think Josie's still with me, to draw him in."

  "The treasure." Josie scooted closer. "We can retrieve the treasure together. Somewhere along the line, I can pick up my new bodyguards while you head in another direction." She tilted her head. "But where would you go? Where would he think we're hiding? One of the previous safe houses that have been breached?"

  "Too obvious. He'll be as skittish as a cat, so everything has to look on the up-and-up, as if we don't know anything about him." Ghost found the dash enthralling for a moment, trying to think of possible solutions. He certainly wouldn't lead the hit man to his own home. Although he didn't stay long, he much preferred the place still standing and in good shape when he returned.

  "What about my apartment?"

  Both Ryan and Ghost turned to look at her.

  "If we thought all but one of the bad guys were gone, we might feel comfortable enough to go back to my apartment. The proximity of close neighbors would make for relative safety along with the comforts of home." She looked from one man to the other. "Would that work?"

  Ghost met Ryan's gaze. "She might have something there."

  The FBI agent nodded. "Hide out in the open so to speak. I like it. The crew cleaned it last night, at least enough for the area to look livable." He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "Let me call Lark and get this set up. We'll let you two go collect the jewels." He paused in punching buttons. "Is there a back way out of your apartment? An escape route no one will readily see?"

  She nodded. "The ground floor connects by hallways all through the building. There's a laundry room down there, several exists. From the higher levels, there's always fire escapes."

  "Where do you go to pick up the jewels?"

  Josie hesitated only a second. "The library."

  Ghost wasn't surprised at her choice of hiding spots. While others might have come up with the same idea, the huge space afforded little privacy and thousands of places to hide some items. A figurative needle in the haystack.

  "Multiple routes in and out of there?" Ryan shifted in his seat.

  "Same idea. Multiple doors to enter or exit. No Underground Railroad tunnel, though. Sorry."

  "The library might be a safer exchange," Ghost said.

  "If this Striker guy is watching, he probably won't make a move on the library. Too many witnesses. But he'll notice if you go in with me, then come out alone. For this ruse to sell, I think I need to return to my apartment with you. Make it appear like I'm staying there. Perhaps you can come and go now and again, making this guy think you have someone relieving you at intervals." She picked at nonexistent lint on Ryan's leather seat. "Lark can meet us in the building and we can head out from there."

  Ryan's head slowly bobbed. "Good point."

  Ghost turned his attention to her. "The library would be safer."

  She shrugged. "If you were hunting, which scenario would you believe best?"

  He didn't have to ponder. "The apartment."

  A small grin covered her face. "I'm getting pretty good at this Mission Impossible stuff."

  He snorted.

  Ryan chuckled, then resumed pressing buttons on his phone. "Lark? I need your help."

  Chapter 27

  "Lark and Bryce know what they're doing. They'll take care of you." Ghost pulled into the library parking lot, having left Ryan a couple of hours earlier to finish setting up the details of the latest plan.

  Josie nodded. Ever since she'd learned of this new threat, her throat had tightened with worry and fear. Ghost would soon distance himself in order to shield her from a professional-class assassin while putting himself in the direct line of fire. For her.

  She blinked back tears, emotionally torn between her rational mind and breaking heart. She realized he didn't have a choice in the matter. Because of her, his name cropped up on a kill contract, one that would be fulfilled unless Ghost managed to eradicate the other man first. Nothing would change that. At the same time, she wept for this fiasco she'd landed him in. He risked his life more than once for her. Sure, he claimed his chosen career had always been littered with dangers and pitfalls, and she understood he lived for the adrenaline and the knowledge that he helped rid the world of evil. However, all the bare facts didn't convince her that her life was worth the forfeiture of his.

  Finding a parking spot close to one of the side doors, he put the vehicle into park, and turned off the engine. Only then did he swivel enough in his seat to focus his attention directly on her.

  "Scared?"

  She knew he read her face like a book. "Not for me."

  He slowly shook his head. "Don't worry about me. I've been through worse and came back."

  She lowered her gaze and blew out a breath. "You're worth more than that damn treasure, more than my life. You do so much good and take no credit. I…"

  He cupped her chin and forced her to look him in the face. "It's what I do." He sighed. "Didn't I tell you to forget those soft ideas about me before?"

  "Yes, but I can't."

  "Why not?"

  "Because you're a warrior. One for the ages. But you're also a great man."

  "There's nothing redeemable about me."

  She looked at him steadily. "That's where you're wrong. You don't need redeeming, you need to see yourself through my eyes for a while. To realize all you have to offer, all that you are."

  "Hogwash. Josie, this is what I do. I assure you, I'm up to the task."

  "It's not that. I know how good you are. You have to be the best to make it through all those missions, to come home from war, to survive in this field."

  He looked at her for a long moment. "I'm not afraid of death.
"

  She met his gaze. "Because you'll be with Lindsay?"

  "Partly." He shrugged. "I'm a SEAL. We graduate from the program and are sent into the worst situations with the knowledge that twenty-five percent of us won't see our thirtieth birthday."

  She gasped.

  "A warrior can't do his job if he's afraid of death. Start looking behind, over your shoulder all the time all the time and you'll screw up. I've come to terms with mortality. A long time ago."

  "I can't imagine what you've been through. But I do know this. If anyone can come out of this unscathed, it's you. You're going to come out on top."

  An instant of bewilderment flashed across his normally expressionless face. "Why do you say that?"

  "Because I have a goal and am too stubborn to give up on it."

  "What goal?"

  She beamed at him. "To make you smile and laugh. If it takes following you to hell to make that happen, so be it." With those parting words, she slid from the passenger seat, shut her door, and strode purposely toward the library's side entrance.

  Entering, she immediately took a left, shoving a stairwell door open enough for Ghost to follow on her heels. She chose the east entrance for a reason. The closeness to one set of stairs that led to the basement and the fact the long hallway, in all likelihood, prevented her from running into any of her coworkers. The last thing she needed was her boss to see her and begin asking questions.

  Her luck held.

  "Let me guess. You're not compliant with the no concealed weapons rule in the library?" She arched an eyebrow in his direction.

  He snorted and easily kept pace, beat her to the basement doors, grabbed a handle, and held the door open for her.

  "Thought so." With a quiet focus, she let her eyes adjust to the dim light for a long moment. "Thank you."

  Ghost nodded, his eyes already raking the room.

  His hyper vigilance settled Josie's nerves, reinforced her secure faith in his protective abilities. No one would get by him.

  "This way." Josie pulled her key ring from the large bag she carried and led the way toward the back corner. Nothing appeared disturbed since she deposited the jewels a couple weeks ago. Dust had once again settled on the back shelves she'd cleaned to cover her tracks, and no fingerprints caught her eye.