Ghost's Treasure (14 page)

Sitting up, he pulled Josie to her feet. "Where did he go?"

She shook her head, dusting off her pants. When he held out her rifle, she accepted the weapon with sure hands. "Last I saw he snaked along halfway down the hill, trying to backtrack to the cabin."

He nodded and spun around. "Stay here. I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response, he ducked back into the woods. Gliding over the ground, he reached the western edge of the house when the sound of an engine turning over caught his attention. Surging ahead, he topped the hill just in time to see a white SUV moving rapidly down the dirt road, dust rising in the vehicle's wake. He lifted his gun, aimed, and fired.

"Shit." Disgusted, he lowered the rifle and spun on his heel. The remaining man or men escaped, too far away for his shot to do any good. His miss created a whole new danger for them. The wealthy employer of the hired thieves and killers knew where they hid out, how much protection Josie had, and an indication of their firepower.

Stragglers never boded well in his profession. Loose ends came back to haunt you.

Trotting back the way he came, he called out as he neared the cave. "Josie. Come on out. He's gone."

She crawled under the rock lip, stood up tall, and glanced around before meeting his gaze. "Gone? Why do I get the feeling that's not a good thing?"

"Because it's not." He gestured with his head. "Back inside. We've got to pack up and hit the road."

"Okay." Josie walked by him, steady on her feet despite the recent battle, which would leave some men and most women shaken and in a panic. He had to give her credit for courage and tenacity. As much as she'd been through in the past few days, she held herself together with impressive control and stoic determination. She even managed to throw in bits of humor now and again, finding the lighter side of life. Despite the hounds of hell on her heels, looking to torture her for information, then kill her outright lest she finger them to the feds, she held her wits and found a reason to smile. All in all, a good person and an outstanding woman. A rare find these days.

He hated the mission from the get-go, but she proved a decent teammate, dependable and sharp. She earned his trust and respect with her attitude, fortitude, and sheer guts under duress. Because of her, the nightmare assignment turned tolerable.

Ghost watched her walk toward the cabin, her weapon in hand. Ryan was right.
She's too good to die for something that's of no fault of her own.

One way or another, he'd get her through this in one piece.

Chapter 23

What on earth possessed me to tell Josie such personal things earlier?
He'd not breathed a word about his life to a soul for years, not to his employers or his work family. Such was the life of a Navy SEAL. Missions and locations didn't exist, same with fame or fortune. To prevent retaliation upon families, the SEAL hierarchy made a policy to never name the individual responsible for an action, particularly if the tango happened to be a powerful official. He'd learned years ago to keep his mouth shut.

So why did he break his own code and spill the beans about his own tragedy?

To stop her ridiculous acclamations, that's why. A hero? What crap. He needed to yank those rose-colored glasses off her face and force her to see the truth. Only, his plan backfired when she pressed him into revealing the most painful experience in a life filled with violence.

Then she looked upon him with such softness, hope, and great admiration, his gut clenched. Add in the overflowing sympathy and he couldn't stop himself from telling her the hard truth. Something he hadn't done. Ever.

In that moment, he almost needed to dash her beliefs, to prove her flowery outlook wrong. He was a killer. Period. Why couldn't she see that for herself?

He shook his head and paused at the stoplight, glancing over at the little blonde with the green eyes who reminded him so much of his deceased wife. She lived in a world of naivety and goodness, a complete contrast to his reality. Yet when she offered comfort, he found himself soaking the support up like a dried out sponge. The words, her gestures, soothed his bubbling rage for a moment in time. An enigma his curiosity prodded him to pursue.

"Where are we going to go?" she asked quietly from the passenger seat of the SUV.

They had packed up their gear and clothing from the cabin in record time, leaving the white tracer pen behind for the Feds to collect along with the bodies. After a tense moment traveling back down the one lane road, expecting an ambush and finding none, they hit the highway and drove back toward home.

"I'm not sure yet. We'll call Ryan in a few and find out."

"Another safe house?"

He shrugged. "Probably. Since we left the tracer behind, we shouldn't be high risk for discovery."

"They know about the first safe house and the cabin. They'd expect us to pack up and move to another. Would it be a wise move to go back to the first one?"

He spared her a glance, impressed with her line of thought. "Interesting idea. Unfortunately, with the one man getting away, he's likely to bring back reinforcements. I don't want to take a chance on facing a small army if we don't have to. By moving around, they'll have to take time to search, giving us the advantage."

She sighed. "Not that I'm complaining, but this constantly on the move thing is tiring."

He could empathize, but that didn't change the facts. "Until all the heads of the hydra are cut off, we may do quite a bit of traveling."

Twisting in her seat, she faced him. "We? You led me to believe you'd only give me a week before Ryan had to find a replacement."

He sucked in a deep breath. He should return her to Ryan and let the FBI finish cleaning up the mess. The idea made his gut clench in protest. In truth, he couldn't trust them to protect her, not like he could. She deserved the best. Him.

Besides, these thugs pissed him off. He wouldn't quit until they were all dead or rounded up in the slammer and Josie could return to her life safely.

Pausing at a stoplight, he turned to meet her gaze. "I'm in this for the long haul."

Her relief was palpable. "Thank you."

His cell rang, breaking into the conversation. Glancing at the caller ID, he passed the device over to Josie.

She lifted an eyebrow then answered. "Hello?"

"Josie? It's Ryan."

"Oh, hi." She mouthed his name to Ghost.

He nodded, although he already knew who since Ryan and Night, the Wind Warrior team leader, were the only two to have the secured number.

"A new place? We figured as much." Josie continued on with the phone conversation. "Okay. Let me get a piece of paper." She grabbed a small notebook from the dash, pulled the pen from the wire binding, and began writing. "Twenty-five forty-three north Chestnut Road. Got it. What's the entry code? Okay."

"You've got it all?" Ryan's voice came across loud from the phone.

Josie jumped. "Oh, sorry. I must have hit the speaker phone button."

"It's fine like this." Ghost spun the steering wheel for a turn. "What about the callers? Have you corralled them yet?"

"Yeah. Those are taken care of. It's just this one persistent jackass who won't stop."

"Is her apartment still trashed?"

Josie sucked in a breath but listened intently, eager to determine the state of her home. She held the phone out so they both could hear easily.

"Yeah. We collected our evidence, but I'm afraid it's a huge mess."

"Clean it up."

"What? Who do you think we are? Hired maids?" Ryan snorted through the line.

Ghost glanced at the phone, his voice lowering. "Something tells me we're going to need that place to look lived in before this is all said and done. Can you at least do that much?"

A long pause carried before Ryan answered. "Yeah. Can't promise it will be a whole lot better, but I'm sure the clean-up team can at least make a pathway so it appears someone has started on the process."

"Thanks. We left the tracer pen for you at the cabin. Figured it might have prints."

"Good deal. I'll make sure the recovery team picks it up and brings it in for analysis. Oh, and before I forget, there's already a treadmill at the new place."

Her lips turned up. "Thank you. I'm sure it's a huge pain, but I really appreciate it."

"No problem. Can't have cranky-butt leashing you like a hyper Jack Russell terrier when you bounce on his last nerve." The agent's voice took on a teasing quality.

Ghost snorted.

Feeling a bit mischievous, Josie looked over at her bodyguard, then focused back on the phone. "You'd be grouchy too if you ran around commando all the time. Think about all the hair pulling and chafing. The least you could do is to drop off some fresh underwear for him at the next house." She spoke tongue in cheek and waited.

Ryan burst out in laughter.

Ghost shot her a droll stare, but she didn't miss the twitching of his lips and the tiny spark of amusement in his normally flat eyes. Another telltale sign her efforts were working, slowly but surely.

"I can manage that. What size does he wear?"

Josie beamed at Ghost. "Oh, I'd say at least a large. Make it extra large. He wouldn't be happy with his man parts squished."

Her bodyguard shook his head. "Man parts?"

She blinked at him. "Would you prefer penis?"

Ryan cackled in the background. They ignored him.

"I'd prefer you stop worrying about my underwear or lack of."

"Why? It's kind of entertaining."

"Blake?" Ghost called out, using Ryan's last name.

"Yeah?"

"I might need that leash after all."

Josie sighed dramatically. "Just great. I'm stuck with the bodyguard with a bondage fetish. My lucky day."

For the first time, Josie saw Ghost actually smile. Not enough to show teeth, but definitely an upturn of his lips. The result was breathtaking. His already handsome face stepped up a notch with the softening and easing of tension. Excitement at the small victory washed over her.

"You guys got awfully quiet," Ryan noted with concern.

Ghost didn't answer, prompting Josie to reassure their contact. "If you could see the look on his face. I swear he's running some bondage fantasies through his mind right now."

"Uh huh. I really don't want to know. So I'm off here. Call later to check in or if something else comes up." With that said, he clicked off.

Josie punched the button to end the connection from their side.

Ghost pulled into the parking lot of a small neighborhood restaurant and cut the engine. That done, he turned to stare at her. "Bondage fantasies?"

Her face immediately heated. She swallowed loudly. "Well…"

Humor flashed in his eyes, this time remaining a bit longer. "Seems to me you're the one with the bondage fetish and fantasies."

A blast furnace raked across her face. "No. Oh, no. I don't… I… Just no way on earth." She squirmed and waved her hands.

Ghost grinned once more, started to reach for her, then stopped. For a long moment, his hand hovered inches from her face as if he meant to cup her cheek but had second thoughts. She held her breath and waited only for his hand to lower as his face hardened back to his typical stern expression.

"Let's get something to eat, then we'll check out the new place."

With a nod, Josie unfastened her seat belt, allowing herself to breathe after the moment that came a hair's breadth from happening. She achieved one goal with Ghost's fleeting smile. Yet she needed more. She wanted him to finish what he started, touch her, laugh with her in banter. Good thing she possessed enough stubbornness to outlast a mule. She'd need to draw on every bit in order to realize her second goal. Getting Ghost to laugh. Improbable but not impossible. After all, a few days ago, she didn't think she had much of a chance of seeing any emotion in those lifeless eyes. With renewed determination, she slid out of the vehicle and shut the door behind her.

Chapter 24

Pulling into the driveway, Ghost hopped out, plugged the code into the automatic door opener, then climbed back in. As soon as the SUV sat squarely in the garage, he climbed out once more.

"Stay here." With that said, he strode to the entrance, punched the button to lower the garage door, and entered the house.

Stalking through, he performed a quick, yet thorough appraisal, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Sure enough, a treadmill stood in the living room, and some new clothes lay across one of the beds. Nothing seemed amiss.

Except his behavior.
What in the hell came over me?
Her quirky teasing released the padlock on his sense of humor, allowing the long forgotten sensation to wash over him, especially when she painted herself in a corner and blushed hot enough to toast bread.

He could forgive himself for the smile at her silliness, but the near touch rocked him to the core. Since when did he turn soft? Want to tenderly run his fingers over the cheek of a woman under his protection? His job was simply to keep her alive, not to make the moves on a vulnerable woman who most likely looked at dating as a path toward marriage. A trail he refused to travel again.

Almost breaching his personal rules, he cussed himself for his own stupidity. He couldn't protect her if he faced multiple distractions. From her.

He admired her body, as one athlete might appreciate another's and as a man noticing a beautiful young woman. Her courage and bravery impressed him as did her quirkiness, which kept him on his toes and pushed him to rediscover lighthearted teasing and humor. Rolled into one, Josie would be the kind of woman he'd like to hang around, maybe even see now and again.

She's the commitment kind, you idiot. And the person you're supposed to protect.

He sighed, torn between familiar policies and absolute black and white lines and the newly appearing grayness in between. "Damn it to hell." In order for this job to be a success, he needed to regain control and fast. The sooner he finished this mission and went his own way, the better.

Spinning on his heel, he strode back through the house toward the garage. By the time he reached the door leading from the kitchen into the garage, he once again locked his focus in place.