Out of Character (20 page)

Paul hadn’t heard a thing after the quiet rattle and steps at the front door. That must have been a ruse to distract him while the intruder entered through the back door. He crept to the kitchen, keeping low, leading with his gun.

Seconds later, he heard shuffling feet by the back door, followed by a click. He moved to the center island where he had a good view of the door but was concealed enough to get off one good shot before the intruder spotted him. Holding his gun steady, he took a few slow breaths and let the adrenaline kick in.

A couple loud thumps against the back door sparked the hairs on the back of Paul’s neck to full alert. The guy wasn’t even bothering to sneak in, which meant there was more than one guy. A single shooter would never be so brazen.

The commotion of taking out Harry and possibly Mac might have roused Sam, who was sleeping in the apartment above the office. He couldn’t count on Sam’s timely arrival, though, not when at least two guys were about to burst in, probably simultaneously through the front and back doors. Paul shifted several inches to his left, positioning himself so the counter gave a little cover from both directions.

The knob on the back door turned. Paul couldn’t see whether the front door was also opening, but he’d bet it was. He’d handled two, even three opponents in the past. He’d been younger then, though, and the time with three had been way too close for comfort. He wasn’t sure he could pull it off again.

Paul held his gun steady, pointed at the back door. And waited.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Paul lowered his gun and stared at the last person he’d expected to see coming through the back door.

Ryan Seaton gestured with the cardboard box in his arms. “I’m your delivery boy.”

“Why didn’t Harry or Mac tell me you were here?”

Ryan put the box on the butcher-block table. “I told them I wanted to surprise you.”

“The surprise would have been on you if I’d shot you,” Paul said dryly.

“I assumed you’d check the window and see me drive up.”

“Well, I didn’t. I thought you were stuck in Texas.” He’d approached Ryan about accompanying him to Keystone, but Ryan had been in the middle of an assignment he couldn’t leave. Which was too bad, since Ryan would never have let him involve Jillian in this mess.

“We wrapped things up sooner than expected,” Ryan said. “Martin told me about the sniper on the slopes and asked me to go to Colorado to help out. I was on my way when the safe house blew, and you headed here. So my assignment changed to delivery service.” He looked around. “Where’s the woman I’ve heard so much about?”

“In the utility closet.”

“You hid her in a closet?” Ryan snorted. “Pretty clichéd, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t have time for creativity.”

“True. Well, let’s liberate poor Jillian from the closet.”

* * * *

Jillian had huddled for what seemed hours in the back of the sweltering, dark closet behind a vacuum cleaner, clutching her knees to her chest and trying not to move, sneeze, or even breathe more than necessary. The initial silence had been frightening, but then she’d heard voices, so muffled she couldn’t tell the number of speakers or even whether one was Paul. She’d made herself even smaller and braced herself for whatever happened.

Nothing did, and the muffled voices continued. Undoubtedly Tony had returned, and Paul was so busy talking he’d forgotten her, leaving her inhaling Pledge and vacuum cleaner dust while sweat dripped into her eyes. Or more likely, Paul had decided to try a little overheated solitary confinement to make her more cooperative, since using sex hadn’t worked.

She moved around the vacuum cleaner then crawled to the front of the closet. She’d just reached for the knob when Paul opened the door.

“Finally.” She got to her feet, ignoring his outstretched hand. “What happened? What did you hear?” She stepped into a living room that felt thirty degrees cooler than the closet.

“It was nothing,” Paul said.

“Now I’m nothing?” The man asking the question was about Paul’s age and build, but had sun-bleached brown hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a killer smile. “I’m Ryan Seaton, and I’m delighted to meet you, Jillian.” He extended his hand. “I assume you’re Jillian Rodgers, although Billy’s enthusiastic description didn’t do you justice.”

Jillian wiped her sweaty palm on her T-shirt then shook Ryan’s hand. Her relief at seeing a friendly-looking face instead of the killers she’d feared made her responsive smile especially warm.

“When did you see Billy?” Paul asked.

“I’m an FBI special agent, and I brought out your clothes and supplies. I’ve also been a friend of Paul’s for years.” Ryan released Jillian’s hand and turned to Paul. “Billy and Travis flew me in from Hawaii. They bitched about it since they did the same thing for your guards yesterday, although I’ll bet they negotiated an extra week off for it.”

“Where did they land?”

“On Dune,” Ryan said. “It’s flat enough, at least for pilots as skilled as they are. They hauled a small boat in the cargo hold that I used to motor here. We thought that would be safer since they’d already landed on your airstrip twice in the last few days. When I arrived on this island, Tony met me with the SUV. I’ve had a hectic few days, so I slept on the beach for a couple hours then drove up here. I tried the front door before I realized the key Tony gave me was for the back.”

“What did you bring us?” Paul asked.

Ryan gestured expansively. “Good things for everyone. Starting with Tony, who’s now on his long-scheduled vacation.”

“What vacation?”

“He was supposed to visit his daughter in Japan, but he decided to stay here when he heard you were coming.”

“He never mentioned it.”

Ryan shrugged. “He wouldn’t, since you’d have made him leave, and he was concerned about your safety. With me here, he figured it was okay to go.”

“What else?”

“Your summer stuff and new clothes for Jillian. Plus food and beer.” Ryan leaned against the back of the sofa, shaking his head. “You know, Paul, you live a charmed life. Anyone else who pulled a stupid stunt like calling from a safe house and getting it blown up would be demoted. You get to move to paradise.”

Jillian jerked at Ryan’s words. “Paul didn’t—”

Paul squeezed Jillian’s arm. “Like I told Jack, I had a feeling that whoever’s targeted Jillian might have paid off someone in the DA’s office since her ex-boyfriend works there. Apparently I was right, although they haven’t identified the accomplice yet.”

“Couldn’t you have tested your theory in a less destructive manner?”

“I’ll try to do better next time.”

Ryan raised one eyebrow. “If there’s a next time, you might have to start panhandling on street corners.”

“Did you get in a lot of trouble for that?” Jillian looked at Paul with concern. Much as she disliked him, she didn’t want him fired or even disciplined because of her screw-up.

“Don’t worry about Paul.” Ryan waved his hand. “The FBI’s so glad he’s in on this operation that he could have blown up the place himself and no one would have blinked.” He pulled keys from his jeans pocket. “I’ll move the SUV around back. Once I unload it, I’m officially on vacation.”

“I thought you were replacing Tony,” Paul said.

“I just told him that so he’d feel comfortable leaving. This place is so secure Martin thinks three guards are more than enough, but I’d still like to stick around a while.”

“I think we can find a spare bedroom. I hope you’re willing to interrupt your vacation to fix the security system,” Paul said.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“The alarm went off because of a security breach that never happened. I have no idea why. Adele and Tony are the computer whizzes, but since they’re both gone, it’s up to me.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “In that case, I’d better check out the entire system so nothing malfunctions after I leave.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Paul said. “How long are you staying?”

“Until something more important than you comes up.” Ryan walked to the front door then paused. “It’s good to see you alive, by the way.”

Jillian spoke the instant the door closed behind him. “You told them
you
made the call to Andy?”

Paul folded his arms. “I should have stopped you.”

“You shouldn’t get in trouble for something I did.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

His hard expression and tone declared the issue closed.

“Ryan seems to know you pretty well.”

Paul uncrossed his arms, looking halfway amiable. “He’s been my best friend since law school.”

“Does he live in New York, too?”

Paul’s expression tightened again. “No, D.C. He’s never been married, since I know you stay away from married men.”

Jillian walked over to one of the arched windows. She’d asked about Ryan hoping a little pleasant conversation would ease the tension between Paul and her. Apparently, pleasant conversation wasn’t a possibility.

At least it was another beautiful day, even if she only got to experience it through glass. In the bright sunlight and light breeze, the flowers and leaves sparkled like semi-precious stones. She watched the rubies, garnets, and emeralds that edged the patio until Ryan returned, carrying a large box.

“Let me help you with that.” Paul extended his arms.

“You obviously assume it’s the beer.” Ryan hung onto the box. “It’s clothes for Jillian. I brought her stuff first, since she seems more deserving than you.”

Jillian walked over and reached for the box.

“I’ll carry it to your room,” Ryan said.

“Don’t be silly. You wouldn’t believe the things I haul around at work.” She took hold of the box. Even stuffed with clothes, it couldn’t be that heavy.

“I insist.” A slight smile touched the corners of Ryan’s well-formed lips. “It’s part of my delivery service. The bureau would have my ass if I didn’t finish the job.”

“I certainly wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Ryan grinned in earnest, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Good. Lead the way.”

* * * *

Since Tony was gone, Jillian volunteered to make dinner. Ryan helped her clean up then escorted her on her first trip outside since she’d arrived. She stepped out the back door and took a deep breath, inhaling warm air redolent with flowers, grass, and salt. The stone fence hid the ocean view, but waves slapping the rocks and lapping the sand below still announced its presence.

She and Ryan walked to the vegetable garden and four-car garage she’d seen from the kitchen window. Just beyond the garage was what looked like a two-story carriage house. Although they didn’t go near it, Ryan told her the lower floor was the mysterious office where Paul spent so much of his time, outfitted with computer, communication, and security equipment. The upstairs was a two-bedroom apartment where Sam and Mac were currently staying. The final building in the compound was a watchtower, a tall, gray stone cylinder that looked like a cross between a turret and a lighthouse.

After the tour, Jillian and Ryan strolled around the house to the front lawn. Palm trees, tropical-looking bushes and plants, and wrought iron lamps and wooden benches accessorized the lush grass. An unbelievable array of colorful flowers bordered the house, fence, and patio, and were clustered throughout the lawn with the casual nonchalance only an expensive landscape designer could achieve.

They sat on a bench beside a collection of hibiscus flowers so large and intensely pink they appeared to have been fed steroids. Jillian leaned back, closed her eyes, and let the sounds, smells, and balmy warmth relax her.

After sever blissful minutes, she opened her eyes. “I can’t believe how wonderful it is to finally get outside. And to be dressed appropriately. Thank you.” The box from the government had included a generous selection of warm weather clothing, including the khaki shorts, blue linen shirt, and sandals she was now wearing.

“It’s my pleasure,” Ryan said. “Tell me about yourself.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Didn’t you have time to read the extensive file I assume the FBI’s compiled on me?”

Ryan chuckled. “You’re probably right about the file, but I didn’t read it. Did you grow up in Denver?”

Jillian answered Ryan’s questions until after several minutes she held up one hand, laughing. “Enough. If I talk about myself much longer, both of us will be snoring. Where did you grow up?”

“All over. I was an army brat, moved eight times before I went to college.”

“Is that why you joined the FBI? Because your dad was in the military?”

Ryan looked as if he’d caught of whiff of sulfur amid the evening’s tropical perfume. “God, no. My dad was one of those strict military fathers, even worse than the stereotype. I didn’t want anything to do with the government. My plan was to become a rich corporate lawyer with a penthouse, a summer place in the Hamptons, and a garage full of cars.”

“What changed?”

“Our last year of law school Paul and I talked to an FBI recruiter. We both fell for his line and went to Quantico together. I figured I’d do it for a couple years then get a job where I made the big bucks.” He smiled, his perfect teeth flashing. “Except I ended up loving it, so I gave up the big bucks and stayed.”

Ryan stretched his arm along the back of the bench, just touching Jillian’s shoulders. “I had no interest in pleasing my dad, but thrilled him by joining the FBI. For Paul it was the opposite. His whole life he’d done what his dad wanted
until
he joined the FBI. His dad was pissed as hell about it. They didn’t speak for years.”

“His dad wanted him to practice law?”

“His dad assumed that after he got his law degree, Paul would come back home and help his dad and brother run their business. Like that would have ever happened.”

“What kind of business is it?” Jillian asked.

“Paul’s family sells appliances.” He shook his head. “Definitely not Paul’s thing. You can see why the FBI looked so appealing.”

“Paul doesn’t work for the FBI now, does he?”

“On this assignment he technically does,” Ryan said. “Otherwise he never did. He’s always had a gift for languages, so after he left Quantico he went into foreign work.”