Whoever had broken into her house likely would be the same nut. Surely, there couldn't be two separate people fixating on her. So why would he call and not be on the other end of the phone to talk to her if she took his call?
Her gaze strayed to Brian several times over the course of the next few hours, her body slowly growing tense. She studied his face. He had a boyish face, laugh lines around his eyes, his mouth always ready to smile. But when she really examined him, it occurred to her that those boyish good looks could be hiding something much more sinister beneath. Goose bumps raised along her skin.
She did another short broadcast, talking about nothing she could remember, her mind suddenly consumed with the reality that Brian moved with grace and carried himself like a man who could handle himself. And what did she really know about him? He'd arrived in town right before she had. And he saw Patsy occasionally. Her pulse thundered in her ears and her mouth went dry.
Had he said that to subtly warn her that he could hurt Patsy anytime he wanted? When had she let her guard down enough to stop being suspicious of everyone around her? She snuck another look at him--the set of his shoulders, the smooth way he moved. He was good at his work, easy to work with, he fit in.
What was she thinking? Where was she going with this and why was she suddenly tense and apprehensive? She bit down hard on her lip, distracted enough that she nearly missed her cue. At Brian's frantic signals, she sent her soft, whispery siren's voice out over the airwaves, gave a little commentary, and introduced the next run of songs. All the while her mind was turning over the puzzle, trying to piece together an answer.
Feeling Brian's gaze on her, she turned and glared at him through the glass. She signaled him to come into the booth. Brian sauntered in, looking cockier than ever.
"I want to hear your theory."
"What's yours?" he countered.
"If I know him, obviously he'd have to disguise his voice."
Brian nodded. "My feelings exactly." He leaned one hip lazily against the console and regarded her from his lofty height.
Saber leaned close to him, moving her hand until it rested close to his arm right above his wrist. She drummed her fingers beside his arm, using her nervous habit to cover her movement. "And if he used a recorder, is it possible that he wants to be in two places at the same time?"
She tuned her heartbeat to his, listening to the rhythm, allowing her body to sync with his. If he was nervous, it didn't show in his body rhythm. His heartbeat and pulse were steady. Her fingertips very lightly slid against his skin. "Like if it was you, Brian, you could call and still be here to take the call." She made certain as she made the suggestion that even as she sounded casual, she checked to see if there was even a slight abnormality in his pulse.
He grinned at her. "Me? I like you, honey, but not that much. It's a lot of trouble to go to, and I'm kinda on the lazy side."
Absolutely no change in his rhythm. If Brian was lying, he would be able to beat a lie detector with no trouble at all. She didn't believe he was that good. She slipped her fingers back to the surface of the console and resumed the "nervous" drumming. "It was a wild idea, but actually not a bad one. If the person is someone I know, wouldn't it be a great way to keep suspicion from them? They could be with me when a call came in."
"If you're thinking Jess, I just can't go there. I'm sure the man's a perv, but if he wanted to get all freaky with your things, he'd have done it long before now."
Everything in her stilled, but she hung on to her smile and the cool mask that was her face. Young. Innocent. So sweet and vulnerable. How had he known that the intruder had gotten into her things? No matter what he said to cover his tracks, Brian knew about the intruder, and no one should have that information. It hadn't gone outside the GhostWalker circle at all.
"Not Jess, you dope." She injected the right touch of humor.
She caught a glimpse of her face reflected in the glass surrounding her, and it was her heart that jumped. She was wearing her death mask. The innocent teenage one. Guileless. Little white teeth gleaming in a smile, eyes shining and friendly. She despised that mask, but there it was, an automatic reaction. She glanced down and found the pads of her fingers against his pulse, her body already syncing their rhythms. Even knowing from the easy relaxed rate of his pulse that he wasn't the stalker, she instinctively had prepared to kill him to eliminate a threat, if she'd been wrong.
She jumped up so fast she knocked over her chair. Suddenly she wanted Jess's arms around her, protecting her--or Brian. What was she thinking? That she could settle down with Jess in a fairy-tale world and have the happily-ever-after?
"What's wrong, Saber?" Brian leaned down and picked up the chair, giving her a puzzled frown. "You really aren't considering that it's Jess--or me--are you? If you're afraid, I'll call Brady in. Hell." He righted the chair and held up both hands palm out. "I was only trying to help. I didn't want to scare you."
"No, no, Brian." She forced another babyfaced smile. "I've got an irrational fear of bugs, and I saw that spider." She pointed to the little arachnid crawling innocently on the edge of the console. "I just reacted without thinking."
Brian grinned at her and used his thumb to squash the spider. "I never expected such a girlie reaction from you."
Saber rolled her eyes and forced an answering grin. "Well, don't tell anyone." She moved around him back to her chair, keeping her heart rate under control. She waved him out of the booth and turned back to the mike, talking nonsense and flirting a bit before she set up the next round of music.
Her first thought had been to eliminate the threat to her. She had been trained as a child to kill and she thought if she just refused, if she just walked away, she would be like everyone else. She'd stop and it would be over. But everywhere she went she had to take herself with her and she was an assassin--a trained killer. Her every instinct had been to destroy the threat.
She glanced through the glass at Brian. He was joking with Fred, the janitor. The kind older man cleaned the station every night, and Brian always, always, talked to him. Treated him with respect. Brought him food even, some little thing he'd found and thought Fred should try. Brian even got along with Les, the man who took his job during the day.
No one got along with Les. He kept to himself, was rude and insulting to and about women, and resented working for and having to take orders from a man in a wheelchair. He was good at his job, but basically he was just plain creepy...
Her breath came in a little rush. Les? Could the whack job be Les? But if it was Les, then how had Brian known about the intruder ruining her clothes? Patsy didn't know. Only the GhostWalkers and...She picked up the phone. Jess answered on the third ring.
"Hey, quick question." She glanced around to make certain no one could overhear. Brian was busy with Fred, not paying any attention. "Who knew about the whack job in my room?"
"The team of course."
"Would they say anything?"
"No, of course not. Why?" Jess's voice was filled with suspicion.
"No reason. I'm just trying to figure things out. Anyone else know? Patsy, for instance?"
"How the hell would Patsy know? Lily and Eric knew. I briefed them when we talked about..." He broke off, hesitated, and then supplied, "Things."
"You meant me. You discussed me."
"Among other things. You're too sensitive, Saber."
"Well, how many people know about you, Jesse? Not your SEAL background, but the GhostWalkers? Does Patsy? Your parents? Who knows? Who goes around discussing you?"
"What is wrong with you tonight?"
"I can't talk right now, I have a show to do."
She hung up, furious all over again. Damn him for sharing her life with those others. She didn't know them. She didn't trust them. They weren't part of her world.
Brian knocked on the window and held his palms up in inquiry. Swearing under her breath, she leaned in to the mike and began another commentary, all the while her mind churning with myriad possibi
lities--or none at all. How had Brian found out? He had to be the intruder, but seriously--she studied him again through the glass--it just didn't add up. No one that creepy could keep up that kind of pretense for long--could they?
She was grateful when three o'clock came around. She was going to have to discuss this with Jess. Just the possibility of being in such close proximity to a man who had broken into her home and violated her privacy in such an obscene way had her twisted up inside.
Brady the security guard was waiting to walk her to her car. Brian stopped to say good night to Fred, and Saber breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't want another prolonged chat with him before she had a chance to talk to Jess.
"It was a good show," Brady greeted. "I listened while I did my rounds."
She sent him a sharp glance. Now she was paranoid. Brady was a friend of Jess's from his navy days. He'd been a SEAL and had started a security service. Why shouldn't he listen to her show while he made his rounds? The job had to be boring most of the time.
She forced a tired smile. "Thanks. I wasn't into it like usual, so I'm glad the show didn't sound too bad."
Brady was a big man and light on his feet. He had the restless eyes of a lot of the SEALs, scanning their surroundings as they moved across the parking lot to her car. She stayed close, her hand brushing his arm occasionally, the touch so light he barely felt it, but it was enough to allow her to feel the steady rhythm of his heart.
Saber drew in air, let it out, concentrating on the steps to the car, all the while watching Brady, aware of every body movement. Tension built and she couldn't stop it. Everything felt wrong. A step out of place, but she wasn't certain why. Time slowed down, tunneled, while her heart beat the same rhythm as his. Brady was her guard. He'd been walking her to her car for nearly a year, yet all of a sudden, she no longer felt safe with him.
"What is it, Saber?"
His voice was quiet. She felt the concern in him and forced herself to smile again. "I don't know. I'm a little skittish."
Brady put his hand on her arm and swept her behind him as they approached her car. "You should have said something. When you think something is wrong, it usually is." He pulled his gun from his shoulder harness and stepped toward her car.
"Brady, let's go back inside," Saber said. "I feel exposed out here."
There was little cover in the parking lot. A few trees and shrubs spread out, but most of it was asphalt. She glanced around uneasily.
Brady immediately stepped back toward her. The bullet caught him low on his thigh and spun him around. He went down hard, his large body sprawling out, but his gun was still rock steady in his hand. Saber dropped down and crawled to where he lay.
"Get to cover."
"How bad?" She put both hands over his heart to feel the extent of the damage.
Brady shoved at her. "He'll be coming to finish me off. Get the hell out of here, Saber. There's no cover."
She caught his arm. "Push with your feet. Hurry."
"Leave me. You've got to get out of here." But he pushed with his heels as she dragged him between the cars.
"Shoot out the lights."
Brady didn't ask questions, he fired several shots. Glass shattered, raining down from all four corners of the lot.
"Well, at least you're a good shot." She renewed her grip on his arm. "Keep moving."
"I hope you have a plan."
"I always have a plan." Saber kept dragging him, staying low to the ground. Let their attacker think they were sheltering between the cars. "I can see in the dark, like a cat, Brady. Keep moving, we only have to make it to the edge there."
"There's a dropoff."
"Yeah, I know." She'd studied the area thoroughly over the past year, committing the landscape to memory just in case she had to escape fast. She figured this qualified.
"Saaaaber." The voice sounded eerie coming out of the dark. "Saaaaber."
"Great. It's the whack job sperm donor. Sheesh."
Brady muffled his snort.
Saber pulled at his arm harder, silently cursing that she didn't have the kind of strength needed for carrying big men. Whitney had physically enhanced her, but more with the ability to jump, to turn herself into a pretzel, get in small places. Her strength was more than adequate for lifting herself and dangling for long periods of time by her fingertips, but Brady was nearly dead weight. She was beginning to sweat, fearing they might not make it.
"When this is over, lose a little weight, Brady," she hissed in his ear.
"It's all muscle, ma'am."
There was little moon, so he couldn't appreciate the eye rolling. She could see the stain spreading now, inky black in the dark. "What is it about Navy SEALs? Do you all have to be so macho?"
She was talking more to distract herself from the task of pulling Brady's large body and the fear of a bullet striking them. She kept close to the cars as long as she could before dragging him into the open. They had to go slow, not draw the eye. Hopefully their attacker would be concentrating on watching between the cars. It would make sense for them to try to stay concealed and the cars were the only real cover available.
"Saaaaber." The call came again. Distorted. Taunting. Disturbed.
They stayed silent as they made their way with painstaking slowness across the ten feet separating the asphalt from the rough terrain. The wild grass was kept low around the edges of the parking lot to minimize the risk of fire.
"Be ready with your gun, Brady," she whispered. "We're going to be very exposed right here. Hopefully I can get you onto the grass without drawing his eye. It's going to hurt like hell. Are you ready?"
Brady gripped his gun and nodded.
Saber backed onto the curb, staying as low as possible. She hooked Brady under his arms and heaved, dragging him over the bump. His breath left his body in a rush, but he remained silent as they fell backward onto the grass. They lay gasping for breath, Saber under the upper half of Brady's body.
She put her mouth against his ear. "There's a ledge, a large one, just behind us. I'm going to try to get you there. Let's just rest for a minute." She could feel Brady's heart racing. His pulse was thready. He was heading toward shock. His skin had gone clammy. "Can you hang on a little longer, Brady? I'll get you help as soon as I can."
Brady managed a brief grin. "My backside's a little raw, ma'am."
In spite of the gravity of their situation, she found herself smiling back. "Come on, tough guy, let's move."
All the while she was listening for a sound, anything that would tell her where their attacker was. She watched the parking lot as she dragged Brady backward. Now that they'd been in the dark awhile, eyes were adjusting, which wasn't a good thing. She felt the need to move faster, but forced herself to keep their pace slow.
She saw a figure move, running from the side of the building to the shelter of one of the trees. Her heart jumped. She took a breath and allowed adrenaline to give her the rush she was going to need.
"He's over by the smaller of the trees closest to the station. Keep your eye on him. If he goes for the car, can you hit him? Are you good with that gun? Because, seriously, if you're not, I am. The thing is, though, it will make me sick--really, really sick--to kill."
He was silent for a moment, his grin widening. "Just how good are you with a gun?"
"I've had a lot of weapons training and I qualify as an expert marksman."
"You're just full of surprises. And mean as a snake. You want that son of a bitch dead, don't you?"
"I want him gone. And I don't want to have to worry that he's going to come after me again." She didn't know any other way to shoot than to shoot to kill.
They were right at the ledge now. She didn't want Brady to drop to the other side until he fired the shot or gave her the gun. They'd only have one shot at it. Once he'd given away their position, she'd have to stash him and draw the attacker away from him. Her only hope was that the madman didn't want to kill her right away. Whatever this was--whoever it was--it had nothing t
o do with the army and the investigation Jess was conducting. The man was a stalker--her stalker.
They lay in the thin grass, willing the man to go toward the cars. He called out Saber's name again, the sound so strange she realized he had to be using a device to distort the tone enough to disguise it. She knew him. She always identified people by their particular biorhythm, the way their body was unique. She had to tune out everything else and just hear him if she was going to recognize him. And that meant she couldn't do it until she could get far enough away from Brady so his heartbeat wouldn't interfere.
Everything to her was an electrical current--a kind of code--and she knew if she could get close enough, her body would pick her stalker's rhythm up.
"He's moving," Brady said.
She blinked to bring the shadowy figure into focus. He took a couple of tentative steps. Brady brought the gun up.
"I might be able to hit him," he said. "The company van is blocking him, but I might tag him if he comes out into the open."
"Go for it if you think you can."
He flicked her one quick glance and then shifted to get into a better position. His hand was shaking. Sweat dripped into his eyes.
Their attacker crouched low, looked left and right, and then ran toward the cars. The sound of his boots hitting the asphalt seemed overly loud in the silence.
Saber took the gun from Brady's hand, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet caught the man low, slamming him backward. The sound of the gunshot reverberated across the parking lot. He yelled and fired off several rounds as he went down, shooting wildly. The barrage of bullets hit cars and trees and went into the dirt, but didn't come close to them.
Saber pushed to her feet. She had very little time. Already the violent energy was rushing to overtake her. Brady tried to catch her with an outstretched hand, but she brushed past him and ran toward the downed man, the gun rock steady on him. She had to finish him before the energy hit her and she went down. There was no one else to protect Brady, and his wound was serious.
"Don't!" Brady called sharply.
She was aware of him struggling to get to his feet, but she couldn't stay and help. The wounded man thrashed on the ground, cursing aloud, and she gripped the gun harder, her stomach churning. She willed him to turn the gun on her. She didn't want to kill him in cold blood--like an assassin. She wanted it to at least be self-defense.
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