Cold Pursuit (Cold Justice) (Volume 2) (31 page)

She grabbed Jed’s sleeve. He stiffened infinitesimally beneath her fingers. And then she got it. It hit her with a solid wave of shame that slammed into her.

Jed didn’t need Michael anymore. He certainly didn’t need her throwing herself at him and almost getting him killed. God, she was such a fool. She was messing up his life and his career just because he’d been kind enough to try and help them. As for having sex—who wouldn’t sleep with a naked woman who offered a quick no-strings shag?

Heat burned across her cheekbones.

Had he been the one to call David? It seemed like a heck of a coincidence that the day he found out her ex worked for DIA was the same day the man arrived at the door. Maybe that’s why he’d been so hard to seduce, because he’d known David could arrive at any moment. God, how could she have been so dumb? How could she have thought he actually cared about them? How could she have let herself start to fall for this guy?

Start?

If the pain that sliced through her heart at his rejection was anything to go by, she was way past the “starting to fall for him” stage.

It didn’t mean she had to do what he said though. He didn’t own her. “I don’t want to go with this man. There must be some other alternative?”

“We just added another crime scene to the mix. And another dead cop.” Jed’s voice was like ice.

Vivi flinched and blood drained from her head.
Oh, God
. She hadn’t known anyone had died here tonight. She banded her arms across her stomach.

“Resources are stretched thin, so it makes sense for DIA to get involved from this end.” He slanted David a look. “I assume you brought security?”

David nodded.

“Maybe the organizations can work together for a change and actually catch these bastards?”

Vivi’s mouth dropped as Jed walked up to David and placed her son in his arms. David looked taken aback for a moment, and then he hefted Michael higher and nodded at the other man. David turned and strode out through the door, leaving her standing there like a fool. Jed turned to face her with a look of apology, but she felt as if he’d slid a blade into her heart. She slapped him hard across the cheek. Then she ran after the man who carried her son. She had no doubt he’d drive off without her and make her beg to find out where he’d taken Michael.

It hurt to breathe. Why had she believed Jed was different than any other man? What a fool. What a stupid fool. She got into the backseat of David’s car and pulled her son tight into her arms. She never looked back at the man who stood watching them leave.

***

Jed was relieved that Vivi was no longer his responsibility. They’d receive better protection from the Defense Intelligence Agency than he’d been able to provide. He hung onto that belief for about as long as it took for her to ride out of sight. Then his stomach twisted and he threw up.

Heat rushed over his skin. The ex was an asshole, how could he trust him to look after Vivi and Michael? Christ, she’d never forgive him for what he’d just done. Although he’d done it to protect her and Michael, he’d also done it to try and save his career, and get away from the effect she had on him—his inability to do his job properly when she was involved.

Fuck.

He was totally fucked.

A hand rested on his upper back as he retched into the snow beside the cabin. Tonight hadn’t gone quite according to plan.

His cheek stung from her slap. No less than he deserved.

“You’ll be all right, son.”

An affirmation. His dad. The anchor of his life. Jed had no doubt that if he’d wanted David Pentecost dead, his father would have fetched the ski-doo and some very large rocks.

Jed spat the bitter taste of bile out of his mouth and straightened. He wasn’t all right, but he had a job to do, a job that would eventually resolve all of Vivi and Michael’s problems—the ones that threatened them with imminent death at least.

They could try and sort out the other ones later. The fact he wanted to sort them out at all made him the biggest kind of fool, because he’d just fried his chances of making anything work with Vivi when he’d put Michael into David’s arms.

A father
should
look after his son—his own father had taught him that. So why the fuck did he feel like Judas?

Liam had arrived on scene with some of his deputies and the County Sheriff. The look of pissed-off-grim he shot Jed as he dealt with his fallen officer made the nausea return, but Jed forced it down. He had work to do. The guilt over the officer’s loss was made heavier by the relief that his brother, not to mention Vivi and Michael, were still alive. Liam understood. They didn’t need to say the words.

He went back inside the cabin and found Killion scouring through Michael’s drawings.

“No trotting after your master?” Jed asked bitterly. He should have expected the betrayal, but he’d been naive, assuming they were now friends. Spooks didn’t have friends. Backstabbing was their MO.

“He’s nothing to do with me.” Killion shrugged. “I needed a favor from the military attaché’s office and found a way to get it. In return I told him I’d lead him to his wife if I found her alive.”

“You knew who her husband was when you met her, didn’t you?”

“Langley figured it out.”

“And used it.” Jed glared at the man. He vibrated with rage. “The only reason I don’t shoot you is because I don’t need the paperwork.”

“Hey,” Killion raised both hands up, palms out, “I’m not the one who bundled her into the car with the guy faster than you could say spit.
That
was all on you. I was expecting a slap-down for the prick, not a Hail Mary free pass. What’d you do so wrong that you had to get rid of her so fast, anyway?”

It was obvious what Jed had done wrong.

“If it’s any consolation, I’d have fucked her too,” said Killion callously.

Rage singed every nerve. He narrowed his gaze and clenched his fists. If he’d been standing closer he might have decked the guy anyway. Or strangled him and dumped
him
in the lake. The only thing that stopped him was the fact the guy
wanted
to rile him. Wanted him to punch him. Jed needed to regain his equilibrium and sort out this mess with a clear head—hence the reason he’d got rid of Vivi.

Fuck.

She was going to skewer him. Still, she was better off in DC and well out of this nutfuck. He could grovel when this was all over, but first he had to put these people away. He had to do his job.

“You look like you got the snot beat out of you. I take it the guy was a pro or were you weak from too much…exercise?” Killion moved further away, as if he knew baiting Jed was about to get dangerous. Although no doubt about it, rage was an improvement on self-pity.

“The guy was a professional. Came in through the basement, turned off the breaker. I jumped him from up there.” Jed indicated the upper floor balcony with his chin. “Only reason I’m standing here now is when I hit him he fell and cracked his skull.” Not easy to admit the other guy was better than him, but the truth. “What did you get out of interrogation?”

Killion narrowed his eyes. He’d heard Jed tell Vivi they knew who was behind the attack, but he was being patient for a change. “Abdullah denied everything and suddenly pulled the
diplomatic immunity
card in a big way—turns out he’s not only Republican Guard, he’s a distant relative of the president himself. The Syrian Ambassador was called to the White House and now diplomats are being expelled like undocumented immigrants crossing the Rio Grande.” Killion turned to look at him, flashed his father a surfer’s smile that fooled no one.

“Did you find his DNA on the cell phones?”

Killion shook his head. “But we did find a female’s that matched those of the clothes you found. No hits in the databases.” Killion pulled a picture of a woman wearing a hajib from Michael’s pile. “You think this is her?”

Jed grimaced. “Probably.” But the scarf covered everything except her eyes and rendered it useless for facial recognition programs. The FBI could ask for the public’s help though. Someone might know her—especially if she’d worked in the mall.

Killion’s patience was done. “So who was behind the attacks?”

Jed eyed him narrowly and figured he’d suffered enough. Alex Parker, their new cyber security consultant, had a knack for accessing cell phone data—not necessarily through the proper channels—but right now they were desperate to shut this organization down before anyone else died. “FBI sources traced some phone calls between Abdullah Mulhadre and a man called Sargon Al Sahad. He’s been fighting with the rebels but recent intel suggests he’s available to the highest bidder.”

Something calculating flickered behind Killion’s eyes. “Might fit in with the fact we found that German merc dead at the safe house. MI6 is supposed to be reaching out to people, but I haven’t heard anything from them yet. The attack could have been from a splinter group or Muslim extremist cell or the government itself.”

“Terrorists don’t hire mercenaries.” Or at least they never had to his knowledge. The irony of being an expert on why people killed and yet being clueless right here, right now, was not lost on him. “And they generally use any opportunity to gain publicity—so why has no one claimed the mall attack?”

“You got me,” said Killion.

“Could this Sargon guy and the rebels have conspired to set up the Syrian regime and gain more support from the West for their struggle?”

Killion paused as if thinking about it. “It’s possible. Just doesn’t fit with how they usually operate. These guys are fighting for their lives. If I was a betting man, I’d say it was more likely the regime could have hired Sargon to paint the rebels in a bad light and cut off the arms supplies and support they’ve been getting from the West.”

Damn. They needed better intel. “There’s no internet chatter?”

“Dude, suddenly there’s so much chatter we can’t verify a damned thing.”

Jed scrubbed his face, thinking out loud. “Who else would benefit from pointing the finger at the Syrian Government?”
Oh fuck.
The answer made his head hurt.

He walked over to where the attempted assassin’s weapon lay on the floor. He hadn’t touched it because of fingerprints. The man hadn’t worn gloves. “You need to take a look at this.”

Both his father and Killion came to look at the weapon. It only took them a moment to understand the significance of the make.

“Shit.” Killion reached out a hand to take the weapon, but a voice intervened.

“Touch my crime scene, and I will arrest you.” Liam stood in the doorway, looking pissed.

“If you want the State Department up your ass, go ahead,” Killion retorted.

Liam strode forward, eyes narrowed and cold. He’d lost one of his men tonight. Jed knew his brother. Threatening him wasn’t going to get anyone anywhere. “Might take the State Department a little while to figure out where you are, Mr. …?”

“I have a right to a phone call, don’t I?”

“Only if I can find a phone. What is your name?” There was no humor in his brother tonight—his wounds were too raw. Hell, Jed realized that there hadn’t been any in him until the spook had started in on him. Killion had totally distracted him from Vivi and the dead cop and got him focused on the real problem. He was good.

“His name is Patrick Killion, Intelligence Officer with the CIA. And if that isn’t an oxymoron I don’t know what is.”

Killion met Jed’s gaze. “This would be your twin I take it?”

“How d’you figure that out?”

“Because you share the same quota of pain-in-the-assedness.”

“You caught the guy yet?” Jed asked his brother, ignoring the spook.

“I’ve got every police and sheriffs’ officer out hunting him down in this and all adjoining counties.” Liam shook his head. “I’ve got BOLOs out for the SUV and alerts at all the local hospitals. You get a good look at the guy?”

“I never saw his face.” The knowledge he was out there, that he might right now be hunting Vivi… He dialed her number, but no one picked up. “Any idea how to reach David Pentecost?” Jed asked Killion. Having Vivi and Michael out of his sight was making his skin itch even though it was his own doing.

Killion pulled a card from his pocket. “That’s his private cell. He had additional security out on the highway. Guy doesn’t believe in taking chances with his personal safety.”

Jed blew out a sigh of relief. He’d messed up, but it was still probably the best choice. Protective custody. Crap. It hadn’t worked so well last time, had it? He slipped the card in his pocket.

“We might all be better off if this weapon disappears, at least on paper,” said Killion.

“That weapon probably killed my deputy. No one is taking it anywhere except to the evidence lab,” said Liam firmly.

Tension buzzed between the four men.

“If the gun is processed something tells me that evidence will disappear before sun-up.” Killion spoke quietly, but urgently. “And that doesn’t bother me much because I doubt they’ll match it to anything in the system. What bothers me is the people who process the evidence might become collateral damage.”

“Are you threatening people?” Liam stepped forward, fury in his bloodshot eyes.

Jed stopped Liam with a hand to his chest.

“Not me.” Killion’s voice got harder.

“What about all the other evidence lying on the carpet over there?” Jed pointed out.

Killion straightened and shrugged. “Wouldn’t be surprised if that didn’t disappear too.”

“That’s a big-assed conspiracy theory you’ve got going.” Liam’s eyes focused on the spook.

No way was that evidence disappearing. “You got any sterile vials?” Jed asked his brother. Time was wasting. He had work to do.

“Why?”

“More DNA samples the better.”

“I want doubles, too,” Killion said. “I’ll send it to our lab.”

“You have a lab?” Jed asked.

“Maybe,” Killion’s answer was non-committal, but told him everything. “Vacation over?” the spook quizzed him.

“Vacation’s over,” Jed agreed.

Liam delved in his pockets and gave them each two bottles. “The weapon stays. You can photograph it, but that’s it. I’ll call in the State lab to deal with the crime scene. That gives us all time to try and figure out this mess and find this cop killer. You do realize that the person who shot the attacker has officially fled the scene?” Liam stared hard at Jed.