Deadly Force (23 page)

He made a silly, mocking bow at her. “Just doing my job.”

She had the feeling Emit’s job was a lot like Cal’s…one big, fat secret. “I appreciate you doing this. Coming here and helping us. I’m sure you’d rather get home and see your son.”

Emit gave her an odd look. “My son?”

“Austin? I saw his bedroom at the beach house.” She bit her bottom lip. “I didn’t mean to snoop, but your son’s room is charming, and from his picture, he’s adorable.”

“He’s awesome.”

Cal fidgeted. “Yeah, about the house. We kind of left it in a mess.”

“The authorities already contacted me and gave me the low down about it being a crime scene, yada, yada. It’s being handled. No worries.”

No worries, except that was the last time they’d seen Tephra. Where was he? What was he up to?

“How much did Cal tell you?” Bianca asked, getting up to refill her coffee. Maggie opened her eyes, following Bianca’s every move, but didn’t so much as lift her head.

Emit pulled out a chair and settled in. “Only the mission critical details. You’re under the gun. You believe it’s a former SEAL named Rory Tephra. You need a computer and a way into the NSA’s databases.”

She returned to her chair and sat down. “My passwords are all burned. Even with a computer, I can’t log in.”

“Can you hack in?” Cal asked.

She could if she needed to find a link between the operative nicknamed Killer Kathy, Halston, and Grimes, but doing so, no matter how careful she was and how well she covered her tracks, could jeopardize their safe location. “I want to start by talking to Senator Halston. If he won’t cop to leaking intel, I’ll go after him another way. If that’s necessary, then and only then will I hack into NSA.”

“What about the numbers Tephra gave you?” Emit asked. “Sergeant Warwick said you think they’re coordinates for Chicago.”

“McConnell Place to be exact. I can’t be one hundred percent sure,” she said, “because there wasn’t designation of direction or degrees listed by hours and minutes, but it makes sense from the standpoint that Linc Norman will be there tomorrow and that’s where he told Grimes to meet him for a showdown.”

Emit scratched his sparse goatee. “Why would an assassin who’s supposed to be MIA hand you coordinates for that? Does he want you to be there?”

“Like I mentioned to you earlier,” Cal said. “Tephra told me he didn’t want to kill Bianca, only talk to her. He said she wasn’t the only target. But hell if I know why he didn’t just say, ‘Be at McConnell Place in Chicago tomorrow’ if that’s what he wanted.”

Emit raised an eyebrow at her. “So if we believe Tephra, you’re not the only target either on his hit list or overall. Any idea who else might be in danger?”

She’d thought about it a lot on the drive and had only one conclusion. Cal might not be on Tephra’s agenda, but the numbers, if they truly did designate McConnell Place, were an invitation. An invitation she wished she could turn down. “It’s the president. He’s going after Linc Norman.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Cal couldn’t find Bianca. After breakfast and a lot more discussion about Tephra, the president, and why Bianca was on someone’s hit list, he’d stayed to talk to Emit and Bianca had disappeared into the bowels of the building with two of Emit’s bodyguards to get “cleaned up.”

He and Maggie were taking the abbreviated tour of the place searching for her. Even though she never wore much makeup and kept her long hair in a ponytail most of the time, he remembered how obsessive she was with bathing and staying clean. The small bathroom in their apartment had always been cluttered with beauty products. Lotions, creams, and specialty soaps. The shower had been filled with stuff too. Smelly oils, herbal shampoos…the memory made him shudder and smile at the same time.

Here, she had none of her stuff, but probably wanted to wash off the dustiness of the cabin and her brush with Mother Nature. Emit assured him her bodyguards would keep her safe while she used a special bathroom in the suite reserved for important overnight guests. The suite Senator Halston would be using later.

Finding the suite wasn’t easy. Cal took another turn and a second set of stairs, Maggie by his side.

During his conversation with Emit, Emit had tried convincing Cal to come to work for him. The idea was tantalizing, but Cal knew the PTSD would be an issue. He begged off, saying he wanted to take a shot at saving his career.

The whole time Emit talked, Cal’s mind kept wandering to Bianca. He couldn’t concentrate on what Emit was saying, the offers he was making. He needed a good scrub himself, but mostly he wanted to see her naked in the shower, the water skimming over her high breasts and slender legs. He wanted to scrub her back and wash her hair and take her in about six different positions…

An image of one of those positions made him stop and catch his breath. Ahead was the door to the suite and his heart pinched at the idea of having her alone again.

She’d gotten under his skin like always. And now he couldn’t wait to get back under hers.

The door was unmanned. Where were the bodyguards?

Cal covered the last few steps in quick strides, flung open the door, and found an empty room. For a suite, it wasn’t that big—a king-size bed at the far end, a reading area in the center with a desk, a fireplace at the other end with a comfy looking couch.

The door to the bathroom was closed. He approached, listening, his heart jack-rabbiting in his chest. Leaning one ear against the door, he waited. Heard nothing. “Bianca?”

No reply. His hand went to the gun in the waist of his pants, the other turning the knob. Slowly, he eased open the door.

The air was heavy and warm, the mirror still fogged. Rivulets of water ran down the glass shower enclosure. She’d been there…but now she was gone.

Where?

Maggie sniffed a washcloth hanging on the edge of the tub. Knowing Bianca, she could be anywhere. As long as she hadn’t ditched the bodyguards, he had nothing to worry about.

Right
. He tucked the gun away and rubbed his forehead. He wouldn’t be happy until he knew where she was and that she was safe.

Drawing out his cell, he texted her burn phone’s number.
Where are you?

Service here was intermittent, but he currently had two bars and two seconds after he hit SEND, the phone told him the message had been delivered.

He stayed there, hoping to keep the service bars and get a reply. His patience was rewarded a minute later when she replied,
tasting room
.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he left the suite and went to find the tasting room.

One of Emit’s bodyguards had been trailing him, staying out of the way, but keeping tabs on him all the same. Cal knew it was for his own safety but it made him antsy. As he and Maggie hit the first-floor landing, he noticed the guy had traded places with one of his cohorts. A tag team.

Lovely. He’d told Emit he didn’t need protection, especially inside these walls. That they should focus on Bianca. Apparently, Emit had ignored his request.

Cal would take it up with him later, when they all met up again to discuss their plan for confronting Halston. For now, Cal was intent on finding Bianca. She wasn’t going to like what he had to say, but she needed to look at the situation realistically.

The basement was cool and dry. Cal took a wrong turn and ended up in the area where three men were loading grapes into a cold press. He turned around and found Emit’s goon slouched against a wall. The guy didn’t look at Cal, apparently more interested in his cuticles; he simply pointed in the opposite direction.

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Cal mumbled as he walked by.

“Just following orders, sir.”

Sir
. The title rang hollow in his ears. “Does Emit really think the assassin is going to find us here?”

The guy fell into step behind Cal. “An assassin could already be inside the walls. Emit doesn’t trust anybody.”

“Not even monks?”

“Especially not monks.”

Cal had to laugh. “I never realized he was such a paranoid SOB.”

“Try working for him.”

It might come to that
. He shook off the idea. There would be no working for Emit, no field work of any kind. Put him under stress and his mind would snap. Look at what had happened at the cabin.

He’d vowed to stay away from Bianca, and he would. As soon as he helped her clear his name, and stopped Tephra, or whoever, was after her.

Her bodyguards flanked each side of the wine tasting room door. “She in there?” he asked.

One of them nodded. “We were getting on her nerves so she asked us to stay out here.”

“Asked?” the other guy snorted softly. “She told us to park it and leave her alone.”

Sounded like B. Cal left his bodyguard and hers and went inside.

The room was dark, the smell of old wood and years of spilled wine hanging in the air. Dark hardwood floors, dark wooden tables, small alcoves here and there with porcelain figurines and fake grapes. Maggie didn’t seem to like it and stayed close to the door.

Pot lights in the ceiling over the bar reflected off the high gloss of the thick bar top. Over time, the wood had been scarred and nicked, its dark stain worn lighter in some spots.

There were three glasses set up with varying amounts of wine. A fourth was being held up by its stem, Bianca’s slim, pale fingers in stark contrast to the ruby redness of the liquid. Her hair was lose and flowing in sexy waves down her back, Cal’s way-too-long T-shirt tucked under her butt and outlining her perfect ass cheeks on the bar stool.

As always, his gaze zoned in on her and he had trouble focusing on anything else.

Except the dickweed standing across from her.

Cooper’s phone vibrated in his pocket. The screen ID read, “My Lover.”

Celina had been playing with his phone again.

Quietly slipping away from the walking tour of the vineyards, Cooper stopped under a nearby oak. “Hello, beautiful.”

“Where are you?”

He’d gotten in late the night before and left before Celina was out of bed. “Northern California.”

Instantly, his Cuban girlfriend raised her voice. “Northern California? We’re supposed to go to Owen’s soccer game after school. Tell me you’ll be back in time.”

He couldn’t promise her that. “Bianca Marx disappeared yesterday. That’s why I got home late and why I’m now in Sacramento. I think she’s in trouble.”

“Oh, God.” The fire went out of Celina as fast as it had come. She knew how protective he was of his agents. She’d been one. “What kind of trouble?”

“I don’t know. Thomas and I are shadowing Senator Halston. We think it has something to do with him.”

A long pause and a sigh. “Don’t worry about Owen. I’ll smooth things over with him and take him for ice cream afterward.”

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

“You can make it up to me by bringing home a couple bottles of wine.”

“Cab Sauv or Pinot?”

“Some of each. And while you’re touring around, make reservations at one of the bed and breakfasts for next weekend. You and I need to get away for a few days.”

Bobby had texted and told Cooper about a change to Halston’s itinerary. He was staying at a winery that also hosted overnight guests. When Cooper was there, he’d check into a weekend reservation. “You got it, boss.”

She snorted at the reference. She used to call him that to get under his skin when she worked for him. He’d been an idiot to put her off for so long and not let her into his heart.

But that was over. She asked so little of him, yet gave so generously. It was time for something more permanent between them—if she would have him. He’d sworn after his divorce from Owen’s mother that he would never marry again, but now…

Never say never
. “It’s beautiful up here. You would love it.”

She was quiet for a moment, then said, “I already miss you. I want you home safe and sound. I hope you find Bianca soon and she’s okay.”

The tour group was nearly out of sight. The hostess was explaining the different types of grapes to Senator Halston, photographers and fans alike snapping pictures as they trailed behind.

“I miss you, too. I’ll be home as soon as I can, and in the meantime, I’ll keep you posted.”

They said their goodbyes and Cooper caught up to Thomas, lingering on the fringes of the group. “We have a visitor,” he said, his voice low.

They let the group move forward several feet as Cooper scanned the crowd. He didn’t see anyone he recognized. “Who?”

Thomas discreetly pointed to a man’s back hidden in a group of tourists. He wore a baseball cap, jeans, and a leather jacket. “I didn’t recognize him out of uniform, but I’m sure that’s him.”

Cooper squinted. The noonday sun was too bright or his eyes were weak. He couldn’t tell who it was. “Reese?”

“No,” Thomas said. “Lughead.”

As if on cue, Justin Lugmeyer discreetly broke away from the crowd, head down, a cell phone in his hands. He didn’t stop until he was near the line of grapevines and out of hearing distance from the crowd. He took a call, his back to everyone.