Show of Force

by Elle James

  His frown deepened. “What are you talking about?”

  “A partnership can only work if the two people trust each other.”

  “What have I done to lose your trust?” he asked.

  “My trusting you isn’t the issue.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes. It. Does.” He touched her arm lightly.

  Even as lightly as he touched her, it made her flinch and swerve.

  Mack pulled back his arm and sat back in his seat, his lips pressed together. “We can talk about this after we get to the cabin.”

  A heavy weight settled in Riley’s belly. “Or maybe we don’t need to talk about anything. We really don’t have anything to talk about, anyway.”

  Mack tilted his head, frowning. “Have I done something to make you mad?”

  Riley focused on the road ahead. “No.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” He sighed. “You can tell me what’s wrong, or I can continue asking questions until I hit on the right issue. Either way, I’m a patient man.”

  When she didn’t answer, he nodded. “Okay. Was it something to do with the way we made love?”

  She shot a quick glance his way. “No, of course not.”

  He nodded. “Good to know. Was it something I said?”

  Riley’s jaw tightened. “I’m not playing games with you, Mack.”

  “So it was something I said.” He touched a finger to his chin. “I can’t remember specifically what I said, but I’m sure I put my foot in my mouth on more than one occasion.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Riley exclaimed. “Partners are supposed to trust each other.”

  “Yes...and?”

  “And you don’t trust me.” There, she’d said it. “And why should you? I’m Russian. As far as anyone is concerned, I should be deported, sent back to my mother country, banned from ever returning to the United States.” Her chest squeezed so hard she could barely breathe. “Only I don’t know Russia. I grew up here. I can barely speak the language.” She hit the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. “Damn it, I love this country. It’s my home. I’d do anything to protect her.”

  “Pull into the gas station at the next exit.” Mack pointed to the exit sign indicating a gas station.

  “No.” Riley sniffed, a tear finding its way down her cheek. “We have to get to the lake cabin before something horrible happens to my brother. Trust me or not, I’m going to find my brother. And if we have to leave the country, we’ll leave together. As a family.”

  “Riley, pull over.” This time he spoke in a much more commanding tone.

  She gripped the steering wheel harder as they approached the exit, refusing to slow her trajectory. “I won’t let them hurt my brother.”

  “We won’t get to your brother if you don’t pull off and put fuel in the tank,” he pointed out. “Pull off.”

  A quick glance at the gas gauge brought Riley out of her pity party. She yanked the steering wheel at the last moment and sent the car onto the exit ramp and into the service station. When she rolled to a stop at a pump, she sat for a moment, her entire body shaking. A chuckle started low in her belly and rose up her throat in hysterical laughter, which quickly turned to a sob. “See? I make a lousy spy.”

  Mack got out of the vehicle, came around the side, jammed his credit card into the machine, activated the pump and stuck it into the tank. Then he yanked open her door and held out his hand.

  Riley looked up at him through a wash of tears. “You don’t trust me.”

  He didn’t wait for her to put her hand in his; instead, he pried her fingers off the steering wheel, dragged her out of the vehicle and into his arms. “You are one stubborn, hardheaded woman, you know that?”

  She remained stiff in his embrace, her hands resting on his chest, though she didn’t push him away. “Why are you helping me?”

  “Because Charlie asked me to and—”

  “And she trusts me.” Riley laughed, without humor. “Though why she would trust me, I don’t know. I tried to kill her.”

  “No on both counts.” With one hand around her, Mack reached out with the other and tucked a strand of her hair back behind her ear. “I was helping you, at first, because Charlie asked me to. Now, because I care. And quit putting words into my mouth. I don’t know where you get the idea that I don’t trust you.”

  She didn’t want to admit she’d eavesdropped on his conversation. Riley looked over his shoulder. “I can tell.”

  “Then you don’t know me.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I wouldn’t make love with a woman I don’t trust.” He brushed his lips across the tip of her nose.

  Riley lifted her chin, a shiver of awareness rippling through her veins. “Lots of spies make love to people they don’t trust to get information out of them.”

  “Is that why you made love with me?” He pulled back, a frown pulling at his brow.

  She shifted her gaze to his, unable to look away. “No,” Riley whispered.

  Mack gripped her shoulders. “Why did you make love with me?”

  Her lips trembled, and she hated herself for showing her vulnerability. “Why does it matter?”

  “Because you matter to me. A lot.” He let go of her shoulders and cupped her cheeks between his palms. “For some crazy reason, I like you. I want to get to know you better. And I’d want to help you even if Charlie wasn’t in the picture.”

  She frowned up at him, her heart swelling. “You would?”

  “Yes.” His lips tipped upward. “And I trust you.”

  “Even though I’m a Russian spy?”

  A smile spread across his face. “Maybe even more so because you’re a lousy Russian spy.”

  Her frown deepened. “I’m not lousy. I just didn’t want to kill Charlie after all she’d done for me.”

  “My point exactly.” He pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers in a brief, hard kiss. “I trust you, and I want to make love to you again. But most of all, I like you and want to get to know you better.”

  The pump clicked off, signaling the end of their brief break.

  “We need to get moving,” Mack said, almost as if he regretted having to let go of her.

  Riley nodded.

  “Want me to drive from here?” he asked.

  Yeah, she might be giving up control, and that might appear weak, but her hands shook and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath when Mack held her so closely. “Yes, please.”

  He walked her around to the other side of the car, held the door for her and helped her into her seat. Then he hurried to replace the pump handle and screw the gas cap on. A few moments later, they were on the road again.

  Riley stared at the pavement in front of them, her heart and emotions in a turmoil. She felt warm all over at Mack’s words. Then she chilled with her next thought. How could a former marine care for a Russian spy?

  And as the miles ticked away, she prayed they’d find Toby and free him from his captor. Anything beyond that goal could wait to be resolved. Toby came first.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mack switched off the lights as they neared the location of the lake cabin. Half a mile away, he pulled the car to a stop and shut off the engine. He checked the weapon he wore beneath his jacket and opened the door to get out.

  “Why are we stopping?” Riley got out of the car and stood beside Mack.

  “We’ll go the rest of the way on foot. That way, Pruett won’t know we’re there before we get to the door. If he has the boy, he won’t have time to hide him.” He shot a glance her way in the light from the stars overhead. “Ready?”

  Riley nodded.

  They followed the road, checking numbers on the mailboxes as they went until they neared Pruett’s. From the road, they couldn’t see anyt
hing but a dim light in the woods, along a rutted gravel road that led in.

  Abandoning the road, Riley and Mack entered the woods, moving in the deep shadows of the tree canopy, with limited patches of starlight to guide them as they walked parallel to the gravel road. Soon the cabin appeared in a clearing, a single light shining through a window.

  When Riley started forward, Mack held out a hand to stop her. “Let me go first.” Pruett might be an engineer and a desk jockey, but he also might understand booby traps and how to set them.

  Easing forward, Mack checked for trip wires and security cameras. When he found none, he waved Riley forward.

  The cabin stood on piers, the windows a little higher than eye level unless one was to climb up on the porch. Since the porch would expose them too much, Mack ruled that out.

  “You’ll have to look,” Mack whispered. He bent his long body, squatting low. “Climb on my shoulders.”

  Riley gave him a hesitant look. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded and jerked his thumb toward his back. “Hop on. You’ll be able to see into the window. Be careful no one sees you.”

  Riley slipped her legs over his shoulders and rested her hands on his head.

  Mack straightened and, holding on to her thighs, shifted sideways toward the window.

  “Stop,” Riley said softly, her fingers curling into his hair.

  He liked the warmth of her legs around his neck and the way her fingers feathered through his hair. But they were there to find Toby. “See anything?” Mack said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “Not yet.” She leaned a little to her left. “Wait. I see someone lying on the couch.”

  “Pruett?”

  “I can’t tell,” Riley said.

  “What’s he doing?”

  “I can’t tell,” she said. “He’s not moving.”

  “Not moving asleep?” Mack asked. “Or not moving dead?”

  “Uh...” She leaned a little farther to the left. “I don’t know.”

  Mack didn’t like that he couldn’t see in, but Riley couldn’t lift him up. “Any sign of Toby?”

  Her body seemed to sag. “No.”

  “Hold on, we’re moving around to another window.” Mack walked with Riley on his shoulders around to another window at the back of the cabin. The ground sloped toward the lake, making the window even higher from their level. “Can you see inside?”

  “This is a bedroom.” Riley leaned forward, pressing her hands on top of his head. “It’s dark in the room. I can’t see much, but I don’t think Toby’s in there.”

  “Moving.” Mack moved to the next window.

  “Another bedroom. I can’t see Toby,” she said, her voice flat, disappointed.

  The next window proved to be the kitchen and again, no Toby.

  Riley tugged at his hair. “Let me down.”

  Mack bent to a squat.

  Riley dropped to the ground. “I’m going in.”

  “What if he’s armed?” Mack asked.

  “You’re armed. You can shoot him.”

  Mack shook his head. “I’d be trespassing on his property. He’d have every right to shoot me first.”

  “Then we’ll ask him to let us in. No guns necessary. We’ll be stranded on the road because our car broke down.”

  “And he’ll believe his coworker just happened to be in the neighborhood?”

  “If Steve’s got Toby, I’ll shoot him myself. We won’t need an excuse.” Riley turned toward the porch. “Stay here. It might get sticky.”

  “I’m coming.”

  “Suit yourself.” Riley marched up the steps and knocked on the door.

  Mack followed, just as determined to find Toby as Riley, and even more determined to keep her from getting herself killed.

  Mack tugged Riley to the side of the door. If Pruett had a gun and started shooting, he’d aim for the door and the person standing on the other side. The wall gave a little bit of cover. Not much, but at least out of the direct line of fire.

  The sound of feet hitting the floor came to them, and then footsteps leading toward the back of the house.

  “He’s heading for the back door,” Riley said. She leaped off the porch and raced around to the back of the house.

  Mack struggled to keep up, afraid Pruett would be desperate and try to hurt Riley.

  Riley had just reached the back porch when Mack ran around the corner.

  A man burst through the rear entry, flinging the door open so hard it hit the wall.

  Before he could reach Riley, she ran up the steps and planted herself in front of the man.

  “Hello, Steve,” Riley said, her tone even, dangerous.

  “Riley,” Pruett said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I thought you might be able to help me.”

  Pruett tried to go around her, but Riley stepped in his path. “Going somewhere?”

  “I think I left the stove on at my house in the city,” he said.

  “Yeah?” Riley snorted. “Well, I can tell you that you didn’t.”

  “But I did. I need to get there and turn it off before the house catches fire.”

  “The stove isn’t on, and the house isn’t going to catch fire.” Riley stepped closer to Pruett. “But maybe we should check inside your cabin and see if the stove is on here.” She stepped closer to Pruett.

  Mack climbed the porch steps. “Right. Perhaps you need to show us your stove.”

  Pruett’s eyes widened when Mack stepped up behind Riley. He backed up, and his brow furrowed. “My stove isn’t on here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Riley shook her head and advanced on the man. “We’re not leaving until we’re certain your stove is off.”

  Pruett edged toward the door. “You’re not invited into my cabin.”

  Riley’s eyes narrowed. “I think we are.”

  “I’ll call the p-police,” Pruett stuttered, not sounding at all convincing.

  “Go ahead.” Riley walked up to the man and poked a finger at his chest. “Call the police.”

  The man’s gaze shifted from Riley to Mack and back to Riley. He dived for the door and slammed it closed.

  Mack reached the door before the man could lock it. He twisted the knob and applied a muscled shoulder to the paneled wood.

  The door slammed open, shoving Pruett backward. He staggered until his back hit a wall. “You’re t-trespassing,” he said. “You can’t come in.”

  “Yes. We can.” Mack barged in and towered over the engineer. “Unless you think you can make me leave.”

  * * *

  RILEY ALMOST LAUGHED at the way Pruett cowered under Mack’s glare.

  “Why don’t you want to let us in, Steve?” She walked past Pruett into the kitchen. Everything had a place in the neat little kitchen, and everything was in its place. “Do you have something to hide?” She pushed the stainless steel toaster from one position to another, leaving a fingerprint on the steel, and moved on.

  Steve squeezed around Mack and hurried after Riley. “No. No. I have nothing to hide.” He moved the toaster back to its original position and used a paper towel to wipe the print off.

  “Nothing at all?” Riley opened a cabinet door where glasses were lined up neatly, and pulled out a tumbler. She walked to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of orange juice, sluiced it into the cup, spilling a couple of drops on the countertop. “You don’t mind if I help myself to a drink, do you?”

  Pruett stared at the drops of juice on the countertop. “No. Help yourself and then leave.”

  “Why are you in such a hurry to see us leave? I’d think it would be lonely out here all by yourself.” Riley drank the juice and set the glass on the counter. “Are you by yourself, Steve?” She moved toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, searching for any do
ors she couldn’t see from outside the house. Could the man be hiding Toby in a closet?

  “Of c-course I’m alone.” Steve lifted the glass, placed it in the sink and wiped the counter with a paper towel.

  “All alone?” Riley said as she headed down the hallway to the two bedrooms. Her heart sped as she neared the first one and flipped the light switch. A dull yellow light illuminated the room. A dark walnut bed stood against one wall, covered in a neat, solid gray comforter and white pillows.

  Riley checked beneath the bed and in the closet, searching for any sign of Toby or of a hidden door. The closet contained exactly five hangers with jeans on two, two button-down white shirts and a winter coat zipped from hem to neck.

  Abandoning the room, Riley hurried to the next room where a white iron bed was pushed against the wall and covered in a blue-and-white quilt, trimmed in red. Pillows were stacked neatly against the headboard, and a small lamp stood on a nightstand beside the bed. Riley checked in the closet, starting to get worried they wouldn’t find anything and tired of playing games with Pruett, when all she wanted was her brother.

  The closet was empty, except for a box fan. When she bent to look beneath the bed, a small swath of fabric caught her eye near the wall by the headboard. She reached beneath the box spring and snagged a garment and pulled it out into the open. Her heart sank into the pit of her belly and then rose to choke the air out of her throat. She held a small hoodie in her fist, her hand shaking as she stared at the dinosaur on the front left side.

  She turned with the garment in her hand, her gaze shooting to Pruett. “Where did you get this?” she demanded.

  Pruett’s eyes widened, and he dived for the front living area.

  Mack was faster, catching the man by the back of his collar before he could get through the front door. Holding him easily by his shirt, Mack walked Pruett back to stand in front of Riley. “Answer her,” he commanded.

  Pruett’s face paled. “I don’t know.”

  “Wrong answer,” Riley said. “Try again.”

  “It must have been there since I bought the house,” the engineer said.

  Riley shook her head and glared at the man. “Where’s Toby?” She took a step toward Pruett and got in his face. Her lips peeled back in a vicious sneer. “Where’s my brother?”