Cold in the Shadows 5 (21 page)

“A tree frog. It’s a tree frog singing.” He felt the shudder move through her. “My old life. Did you know ‘amphibian’ means ‘living two lives’ in Latin?”

She went to walk on but he pulled her back against him and turned her around. “You’ll get your old life back. We’ll beat these bastards. In the meantime we just need to keep you safe.”

“You don’t understand.” She swallowed audibly. “All these years, my sister’s addiction, Rebecca dying…” She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her go. “My work, my
research
was the one thing I had control over. Now someone’s taken that away from me and hurt people I care about in the process.” Her voice shook. “I’m angry. I’m so
damn
angry.”

He got it.

Her head dropped, and she rested her forehead against his chest. He wrapped his arms tight around her, relief smothering him that she was back with him, finally. Maybe he could make it happen on the research front—there were military bases with lab facilities. When he found the person who’d arranged the assassination plot, POTUS would owe him a favor, and getting Audrey’s life back on track would be his number one priority.

Emotion gripped his throat. How had this woman come to mean so much to him in such a short time? The answer was simple—Audrey was good and kind and pure of heart. A living and breathing ideal. Exactly the sort of person he’d joined the CIA to protect. Even as he held her close he knew walking away was going to be a bitch. He released her and turned her around to face the path again.

“Okay, let’s move it. Remember our cover. Newlyweds, but you hate our hotel because you just found a cockroach and freaked the hell out. Be as high-strung about that as you want. I’m the doting husband who just wants to keep you happy so I can get laid ten times a day.”

“Only ten?” He gave her points for trying to get into her role.

“If I was on my honeymoon with you, Lockhart, I’d want to have sex at least ten times a day. If not eleven. Which is probably a few down from when we were living in sin.”

“What if I’d refused to live in sin? Perhaps I said I needed you to put a ring on it before we had sex ten times a day?”

“In that case we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

She laughed the way he’d hoped she would, but the words did something weird to his insides. They made him wonder what having a proper relationship with this woman might be like. His profession was too treacherous to put anyone in danger, but Audrey was already running for her life…

And
that
was his idea of a proper relationship? With someone on the run?

Jesus. He was too messed up and too cynical for romance. Bad guys were always plotting against the US and people died every day. He had the skills to prevent that and a relationship never measured up when stacked against those opposing factors.

He ignored the inner voice that wanted to argue that maybe it was someone else’s turn to fight. He wasn’t ready to retire yet. What the hell would he do? Sell insurance?

They came out of the forest onto a gravel road. He shone the light first right then left, took her fingers in his and headed left. “Drivers around here are nuts so stick to the side of the road. Keep your hat pulled low in case anyone sees us. I reckon we have a ten minute walk to the nearest tourist trap.”

“Do you have ID?”

“Yep. But I don’t want to use it. Hopefully we can find some mom and pop deal that’ll let us stay a couple of nights for cash. Just let me do the talking—”

“Unless I’m moaning about cockroaches.”

“I knew you were a quick study.”

“They don’t just give Ph.D.’s away you know.”

“I know, darlin’. I know.” He smoothed his hand up and down her back to calm her agitation. He needed to get them somewhere safe before Audrey hit the tears part of the grieving process. Right now she was stuck on anger, but once the floodgates opened the storm would unleash. The last thing he wanted was to be around when it did, and yet, he didn’t want to be anywhere else, either.

*     *     *

T
HE WEATHER IN
Virginia was the usual lousy January mix of freezing rain and overcast sky. It was early evening and Tracey Williams sat at a table in the mall coffee shop. A pretty blonde with a cappuccino took a seat nearby and pulled out the most recent copy of
People
Magazine.

Killion and Lockhart had disappeared, as had the idiots Gómez had sent to take care of them. Last night Tracey had gone to dinner again with her Agency contact, Peter. They’d eaten too much, drunk too much, talked for hours, and then fucked like bunnies.

And Peter had been very informative as to agency gossip.

The girl she was following, Crista Zanelli, had a reputation as some kind of brilliant analyst, but like most geeks she had her head up her ass when it came to personal security. Apparently a former girlfriend of Patrick Killion’s, Crista was the person he turned to when
he
needed information. Crista was Tracey’s best hope of finding out where Killion had gone to ground, unless he or Lockhart surfaced of their own accord.

Crista—bless her heart—had stopped on the way home to pick over the ragged remains of the January sales. Tracey sipped her coffee and avoided staring directly at the girl. Animals knew when they were being hunted, that elusive sixth sense honed for survival.

She broke off a corner of a large chocolate chip cookie and nibbled.

Killion really was the perfect choice to lead a covert mission tracking down Ted Burger’s killer, and one of the few Intelligence Officers to make her nervous.

She’d done the world a favor getting rid of Burger, even if her boss’s reasons were less than altruistic. They’d bugged Burger’s computer and discovered he’d somehow been involved in the terror plot that had recently gone down in Minnesota. They’d already known about the old man’s involvement with the shadowy vigilante organization called The Gateway Project. After Burger’s failed assassination plot against the president, they’d decided it was time to get rid of the old man before he was either caught or became too powerful to touch. She’d removed all trace of the bugs from Burger’s computer and disappeared.

The Secret Service hadn’t been happy, but she’d dealt with those clowns before.

Her boss had come up with the idea of using frog poison after visiting Lockhart in Colombia. It was a stroke of genius. Two birds. One stone. Gaining them a scapegoat if their crimes were detected.

Patrick Killion had obviously fallen for the bait, and he’d traced that poison all the way back to the Colombian jungle and sweet little Audrey Lockhart just as planned.

Would the biologist be able to convince him of her innocence?

Tracey pouted as she pondered the question, drinking her coffee and nibbling her cookie. Killion was susceptible to a pretty face and went through women the way most men went through razorblades. Of course, they had to be beautiful. She had no doubt he’d seduce Lockhart to get the information he needed. And, unless he’d lost his touch, he’d have figured out the truth by now, which meant he’d be continuing his search for the real assassin.

Crista Zanelli checked her phone and smiled whenever a text came up. Tracey had hoped the girl was meeting Killion here, which was why she’d followed Crista inside the mall rather than just following her car home.

So far, no sign of him or Lockhart.

Tracey sipped her coffee. She’d been here too long. If Killion was around she didn’t want him to spot her, not that he’d recognize her with her sleek figure and long blonde hair. She got up, put her napkins in the garbage and left the coffee shop to browse the window of the jewelry store opposite, checking out the rings. When Crista still didn’t move she went inside and looked at some earrings.

Crista finally finished her coffee and placed her magazine carefully in her Kate Spade tote before clearing away her table.

Such a good little drone.

Crista headed back to her car, and Tracey hung around for another five minutes, lucking out when Crista popped up at the mall entrance at the same time she did—the woman had picked up milk and bread from the supermarket. It was dark outside but the area was well lit. Not many people were around and those that were had their heads down to avoid the light drizzle that had started to fall.

Tracey got in her car and pulled slowly out of the parking lot, turning onto the highway and keeping three or four cars back from the other woman. She was in no hurry and knew where Crista lived. She just wanted to see if she took any side trips or if Killion made contact.

Her work cell rang, and she put it on speaker.

“The idiots haven’t got a fucking clue where their people disappeared to.” He sounded on the verge of losing it and needed to calm down or he’d get them both caught.

“I have a lead on something,” she said.

“Seriously?”

“I’m shocked you have so little faith,” she teased.

“Sometimes I forget how amazing you are.”

“This is true. You do.”

He laughed, sounding calmer. “I should have let you take care of her the way you wanted to last month.”

“Yes, you should have,” she said primly.

“Next time I’ll listen. I promise.”

No, he wouldn’t. It was part of the reason she loved him. The other was he knew her darkest secrets, but accepted her anyway.

“Maybe you and I can sneak away for a vacation when this is over,” he said, surprising her.

But if everything went to plan they’d be too busy for a vacation. Didn’t matter. They’d be together eventually.

“I just want to be alone with you,” she told him honestly, “just for a few hours.”

“As soon as you get home,” he soothed.

They were both so busy having sex with other people for the sake of this scheme she’d almost forgotten how good it felt to be held in his arms.

“Come to the office as soon as you get back. I feel a very important meeting coming on.”

Her heart stuttered. He rarely touched her at the office. Said it was too risky, but she craved those stolen moments. He had a way about him. Genius, good looking, and rich. If it weren’t for his general lack of conscience he’d be the perfect man—and wouldn’t look at her twice.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“What would I do without you?” He sounded calmer now. Less on the edge of losing it. She’d done that for him. She’d done much more than that for him.

Tracey was behind Crista at the lights, but she carried on straight through when the woman hooked a left. She drove to the next junction and doubled back to where Crista had turned off. A few hundred feet into a nondescript housing estate, Crista was unloading shopping bags and walking into her neat little bungalow.

Tracey never slowed. She’d be paying Crista a visit in the near future. Wouldn’t take long to find out everything the analyst knew.

She smiled. This would hurt Killion. He had such a soft heart beneath that cynical smile. It was probably bleeding all over poor little Audrey, right now. She hoped he fucked her every which way, so that when he ditched her Audrey would be devastated. She’d hate him.

But every woman should have a man like Patrick Killion at least once in her life. It was only fair, especially when death was just around the corner.

*     *     *

A
UDREY FOLLOWED
K
ILLION
into a small rustic-looking lodge down one of the side roads in a small tourist town. They’d walked past gift shops, bars, and restaurants all plying their trade as if the world hadn’t gone to hell in a hand basket. She just wanted to find a safe spot to curl up and sleep. The last thing she wanted was to watch people going about their normal business while her life disintegrated around her in ruins.

This lodge was quaint, not one of the big chains. Potted ferns grew profusely outside the entrance. Inside the reception area, a desk and computer sat on the left side, and a wicker love seat bracketed the right. Dimly lit for ambiance, with racks of brochures on the walls, promoting zip lines and horseback riding, scuba and snorkeling trips. Normal things for vacationers. Safe, healthy adventures. A bit of an adrenaline rush before they returned to their everyday lives. She wondered if there was a brochure that contained information on what to do when evading the authorities while running for your life.

Killion probably knew it all by heart anyway.

Through the window, a dark blue swimming pool glistened through iron railings and she wanted to slide into its depths and forget her troubles. But her troubles weren’t the kind to go away if she ignored them. The longer she ran, the more whoever was behind this shored up their position and made her look like a criminal.

But right now she was too tired to fight.

She waited near the door while Killion sweet-talked the girl behind the desk.

Exhaustion ate at her, making her vision blurry, her balance off, and her thought processes slow. She and Killion had spent most of last night each taking three hour shifts to pilot the boat so they could put as much distance between themselves and Gómez’s thugs as possible.

Even when it had been her turn to rest she’d laid in the cot and stared at the rough wooden boards above her, thoughts of Mario running through her head. A young man. Beautiful, dedicated, and smart, really smart. He’d only been with her since September. He was her grad student and she’d somehow managed to get him killed.

Emotion threatened to overwhelm her.

As if sensing her impending meltdown, Killion slipped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s just for one night.” He worked the receptionist, who was a pretty teenager with dark skin and eyes the color of bitter chocolate. “Actually make it two. Just while I sic my lawyers on the hotel we booked our honeymoon with. Trust me, they’ll be begging to give us the presidential suite by the time we’re done, won’t they, baby?”

“Even then I won’t go back.” Audrey produced a mechanical smile as his fingers massaged the knots in her shoulder.

“The snooty woman at reception was a bitch and I’m going to make sure she doesn’t treat some other poor sucker the same way. We should have come to a place like this instead of some anonymous hotel.”