Codename: Romeo (8 page)

“Where’s the disc?”

Her body went numb. Disc. Disc? The word echoed in her spinning thoughts. Hot breath scorched her neck. The uncomfortable pressure of thick fingers against her ribs underscored the angry voice. He lifted her off the ground and shook her like a rag doll. She struggled for breath.

“Becker wasn’t amused by your little extortion attempt, lady.”

Try though she did, she couldn’t compose a coherent thought. Her gaze darted around the ransacked room. Bile rose in her throat, leaving a foul taste in her mouth. A rattling at the front door brought her out of her stupor. Victoria struggled in earnest, clawing at her assailant, until finally, he shoved her away. She scraped her leg against the corner of the coffee table and landed in a heap on the floor. The thud of heavy steps faded away.

The door crashed open, shaking the entire house. She pulled herself up to her knees. Erik stormed inside, followed closely by another man. The overhead light reflected off the silver-blue barrel of a gun.

A painful lump wedged in her throat, threatening to choke her. Erik said something, but she couldn’t concentrate. Pain shot through her leg, and fear ricocheted through her body. Although her assailant made a fast escape, she couldn’t stop the tremors that racked her.

“Are you all right, Tori?” Erik asked louder. She nodded.

The two men chased after her attacker, and for a few moments she sat alone on the floor among the mess. Pieces of a Wedgwood vase she’d brought back from England littered the wooden floor. He’d tossed books from shelves, pulled reams of paper from drawers. Test papers, research documents, personal correspondences all jumbled together. The small glass bottle of essential oils must have fallen from her pocket. The potion seeped into the corner of her area rug, leaving a large stain and a powerful floral scent.

She started to stack her books.

“Don’t touch anything,” Erik called out. She jumped in fright. He joined her in the living room and offered her a hand up.

A sharp pain shot along her shinbone. “Is he gone?”

“Yeah. You’re safe now.”

She didn’t feel safe. She felt violated. She’d never been so terrified in her life. Thank God Erik arrived when he did. She owed him a debt of gratitude she could never repay.

* * * *

Erik took in her frightened expression and shimmering eyes. Wrapping an arm around her waist for support, he led her to the kitchen, away from the destruction and the overpowering scents that made breathing difficult. She snuggled against his shoulder and held him with trembling arms. Since she wouldn’t loosen her vice-grip around his neck, he dropped into the rattan chair with her snuggled in his lap.

A touch to her wrist told him her pulse still raced. Fear made the adrenaline pump. She sucked in large gulps of air in between her hiccups. At this rate, she would pass out.

“Easy,” he whispered softly against her ear. “It’s over.”

After a few shaky minutes, her breathing returned to normal.

He silently cursed his stupidity. Despite the fact that he’d followed agency procedure, he still felt responsible for the outcome. He should have let Daniels follow her while he stayed and made sure the house remained secure. Although Becker’s gang wasn’t known for violence, Becker might have suspected Victoria of a double cross at the airport.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“A little. Should I call the police?”

“Not just yet.” He ran a soothing hand along her shoulder. Her body convulsed with aftershocks. He wasn’t in much better shape. “Did he take anything, Tori?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have anything valuable in that room.”

“What about the disc?”

She raised her head. “What disc?”

“Becker’s disc.”

Her eyebrows arched quizzically. “Who is Becker?”

He searched her face. Not a spark of recognition. Could that ring of confusion be genuine innocence? “Try to relax for now.”

For a while she remained wrapped in his embrace, allowing him to hold her, to touch her. Lucky the lousy son-of-a-bitch escaped when he did or he’d be dead right now.

Erik cradled her closer, stroking her back until the trembling in her body began to subside. He’d never been one for offering comfort, but she trusted him enough to feel safe in his arms.

“Who is Becker?” she asked again, her voice barely a whisper.

“Forget it. Nobody important.”

A long silence hung between them. Victoria was no fool. Obviously, she’d begun to replay the events in her mind from a clearer perspective.

She pushed out of his arms and stood above him. Wariness replaced her earlier fear. “How did you know what he was looking for?”

“Just calm down, Tori. You’ve had a scare….” He came to his feet. She backed away.

Her gaze rested on his face. “Why aren’t we calling the police, Erik?”

“We will in a minute.” He tried to reach for her again but she evaded him. “Why don’t you sit down and we’ll talk this out.”

She shook her head. “Who are you?” Her words rang with chilling emotion.

Before he could answer, Daniels walked back in through the open kitchen door. “He vanished. He must have had a ride waiting. Everything all right here?”

“You guys with the water company always carry guns? There must be a lot of alligators in the sewers,” she noted angrily.

Erik folded his arms across his chest and rested against the counter. “We’re not with the water company.”

“No kidding? Well, you’re obviously not with the police since you’re not calling in for a forensics team.” She looked back and forth between the two men. Her eyes took on an icy glare. “NSB?”

“Yes.”

She closed her eyes and let out a groan. “Great. Just great.”

“We need to ask you a few questions.” He stroked a finger along her arm.

She swatted his hand away. “If you needed to talk to me, why were you down in my basement working on the pipes?”

The two men exchanged glances. “Why don’t you explain things to her while I call this in?” Daniels backed out of the room, heading for the front door. His lousy partner was leaving him with an angry woman and a room full of kitchen knives.

Victoria followed Daniels into the living room. “You can take your lying pal with you. I have nothing to say to either of you.” Daniels shrugged apologetically and made a quick exit.

“Tori….” Erik called after her.

She whirled towards him. “Don’t call me that.”

With surprisingly sure-footed steps, she prowled around the room, running her fingers along the edges of tables, lifting lamps and sidestepping the clutter. She unscrewed the mouthpiece from the receiver of the phone. “You bugged my house?”

Every time he took a step closer, she moved further away. “If you would just sit down for a second—”

“No, I won’t sit down.” She paced the perimeter, surveying the damage. “I don’t understand why you guys are here. I haven’t worked for Quantech in six years. Anything I knew is long since obsolete.”

She was either the coolest spy he’d come across or completely clueless about what just happened to her. But if she wasn’t involved, why had Becker sent his henchman after the disc? “Listen. I know you’re upset, but I need some information.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“No.”

“Fine.” She drew up in front of him and, despite her smaller size, left him with no doubt she would not hesitate to do physical damage. “Then I want you out of my house.”

“I can’t do that. Your visitor might return.” He braced himself for a fight.

She paled slightly and retreated a couple of steps. The expected argument didn’t materialize. She obviously accepted that he wasn’t going to leave her alone until he secured the area.

“Is there someone I could call for you?”

“I can make a call for myself. I’m not quite the idiot you take me for, Mr. Sanders.”

“I never thought you—”

“Save it!” She stormed down the hall to her room and went inside. Her door slammed with a house shattering bang. He gave her some needed space. When she cooled off and considered the seriousness of her situation she would talk to him.

Or maybe not.

Face it, Sanders, she’s more than angry.

He lied, he cheated, and he used. Right now, he felt lower than pond scum. He betrayed a woman he cared about in the name of his job. Whatever it takes to close the case. Wasn’t that the mantra of the NSB?

* * * *

Victoria flopped onto the oak rocking chair near the window. Her fingers gripped the handrails. For a card-carrying member of MENSA, genius IQ failed her when it came to choosing men. Then again, she hadn’t chosen Erik. He’d lied his way into her house and her heart. She wiped away a tear and cursed herself for crying.

What did the NSB want with her after all this time? Who was Becker? She’d never worked with anyone by that name. She thought about the mess in the other room. She didn’t keep anything of value in there. A few inexpensive trinkets from her travels, a few research books and test papers. Nothing that would interest a would-be thief or the NSB.

She thought she’d gotten her life back. For close to two years, she’d had one agent or another looking over her shoulder, her house bugged, and her friends investigated. She’d accepted the precautions of the agency because of the sensitive nature of her work.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Usually, she could spot an NSB agent at a glance. Erik fooled her. Did she have a sign on her back reading gullible? One sexy smile from a handsome man, a few well-chosen compliments, and she fell like a love struck adolescent.

A hollow ache settled over her chest, and she felt nauseous. She wrapped her arms around bent knees and rocked the chair in a slow, steady rhythm. Once her queasiness subsided, she tried to get her anger under control. She should have known a man like him would have no interest in her. He was just doing his job. And he’d done it well. What had he hoped to gain by seducing her?

She snapped the portable phone off the bedside table. Other than asking the lying Adonis in the other room, she had only one way to find out. She punched in the telephone number and waited for a connection.

* * * *

Erik checked the damage in the living room. Becker’s man seemed to have confined his search to the one area. Who knew how far he might have gone if Victoria had returned later? Erik shuddered to think what could have happened.

He picked up Victoria’s book and settled in a chair in the dining room. Until a forensics team went through the living room, he didn’t want to disturb the evidence. Not that he thought the intruder left fingerprints, but he never knew.

A little over an hour later, Erik opened the door for Daniels and another man. He pushed his way into the house and flashed his identification. Steven DeMarco, the NSB’s Eastern Regional Bureau Chief, a man whose cold, efficient reputation preceded him. Supervisors were usually sent out to cover damage control. They issued statements to the press and took credit on behalf of the agency. Why was a suit sent out on this case?

“Where is she?” DeMarco barked out.

“In her room. Second door on the—”

“I know where her room is.” He stormed down the hall and banged on the door. “Victoria, open up.”

Erik expected her to give DeMarco the same stony silence he’d received for the past sixty minutes. Instead, she stepped into the hall.

“You lousy rat. You promised me this was over.” Her angry words echoed off the walls.

DeMarco leaned forward and whispered something to her. She lowered her voice.

Erik watched the hushed exchange. “What’s going on?” he asked his partner.

“She called DeMarco. Must know him well. He left an agency meeting and practically flew down here from Burlington.”

Erik frowned. He knew she had a past with the NSB. How personal, he wondered? The new and uncomfortable emotion of jealousy washed over him.

Victoria reluctantly followed the man into the dining room. She shot Erik a nasty glare.

“What’s the problem here?” the bureau chief asked.

Fury put a healthy glow on her cheeks. “You tell me, Steven. My house has more bugs than the Amazon Rainforest, some lunatic destroyed my living room, and two of your peeping Toms have taken more than a passing interest in my private life.”

“They’re not my men. I had nothing to do with this.” DeMarco groaned. “How about you, Sanders? Care to tell me why the Boston office sent you up here to keep surveillance on my sister?”

“Sister?” Erik and Daniels said in unison.

“Her file was closed and sealed three years ago. Who reopened it? And why wasn’t I called?”

Erik furrowed his brows. Victoria’s brother was the bureau chief? No wonder he couldn’t find any information on her. What about the different last names? Did she have an ex-husband floating around somewhere? “This has nothing to do with her past. We’ve been working with the Washington office on the Becker case.”

DeMarco lowered himself in the seat at the head of the table and twisted his hands together on top. “Fill me in.”

Erik leaned against the china cabinet. The lingering scent of burnt cedar hung in the air. He glanced towards Victoria, seated next to her brother, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “The man bribes or blackmails key research personnel into giving up vital new technologies for sale to foreign corporations. One of Cybertex’s employees contacted the department and agreed to help us set Becker up.”

“And what has this got to do with Tori?”

Daniels took a step into the room. “The courier left Mexico Sunday afternoon with the disc. A slender female, about thirty years old with brown shoulder length hair….”

“Which describes about a million women in America,” she muttered sarcastically.

“With all due respect, Dr. Jansen, we double checked the security tapes and you were the only one who came off Flight 516 sporting a red Anthurium on your lapel, which was the signal to Becker.”

Victoria twisted her fingers together until her knuckles cracked. “This is absurd. Why didn’t he approach me at the airport?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he saw something he didn’t like,” Daniels said.