Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2) (39 page)

BOOK: Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2)
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“You
thought
you killed him.”

Guilt burned like acid in Devon’s stomach. Ivy had been attacked in her own home, a place where she was supposed to be safe. And he couldn’t blame Beau. It was
his
responsibility to keep Ivy safe, not his friend’s.

“How did she get back?” he asked.

Beau sped up the footage until another man appeared a couple of hours later, also carrying an unconscious Ivy. It wasn’t Clive.

“Recognize him?” Beau asked, pausing the video.

Devon looked closely. The face did look familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “Print out a copy,” he said.

Beau clicked a few times, zooming in on his face, and the printer spit out the grainy black-and-white image.

“I’m sorry, man,” Beau said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Of all the nights for me to be gone.”

“It’s not your fault,” Devon said. Cold terror gripped him at the thought of what could have happened to her. Images of Kira’s broken and bloody body flitted through his mind. Last night, that could have been Ivy.

“That explains her sudden change of heart,” Beau said. “Wonder where they took her.”

“And why Clive didn’t kill her,” Devon added, thinking aloud.

“Yeah, not to be morbid, but if they got in to grab her, there’s no purpose to keep her alive, is there,” Beau said, and there was a very good reason why that wasn’t a question. He was right. Ivy had no purpose, especially if she was no longer seeing Devon. So why keep her alive?

But even as Devon thought it, the answer came to him.

“No. He didn’t. He wouldn’t,” he murmured aloud. But he already knew the truth.

“What?”

Devon glanced at Beau. “He used her. Clive was using her as a bargaining chip for his own life.”

“Why her? What use is she?”

“Her blood,” Devon said grimly. “The antibodies in her blood. That’s what he needed, and that’s why she’s still alive.” Devon trusted fewer people than fingers on his right hand, but Beau was one of them. He’d kept a close eye on Ivy for months, ever since Clive had shown his face again. It had been pure bad luck that he’d been gone last night.

“Which means your secret is out,” Beau replied. “Someone else knows about her.”

Their eyes met in mutual understanding.

“What’re you going to do?” Beau asked.

“I need to find Clive and see who he told. He was the only other person who knew.”

“What about Ivy?”

“Get a security system installed, send me the bill,” Devon said. “Have the feed sent here, and accessible to me remotely.”

“Consider it done.”

“The FBI agent,” Devon mused. “He could be useful. He did an adequate job before, protecting her. At least he’d be a trained and armed escort.” Jealousy bit deep at the thought of Ivy being in close company with the man.

“That sucks, man,” Beau said, shaking his head. He took another pull of his beer.

Devon ruthlessly kept his emotions from his face and voice when he replied. “It’s nothing that can be helped. I have to find out who knows, and plug the leak.” A euphemism, but one they both understood.

“So you’re just going to let some other guy move in on your lady? I thought you were quitting this oh-so-glamorous lifestyle and settling down.” Beau’s sarcasm was thick. Both of them knew this line of work sucked and had an expiration date.

“Considering what she’s been through because of me, I think her tossing me out was one of the smartest things she could’ve done.” The video of Ivy struggling in vain to fight off Clive would remain with Devon for a long time.

“Don’t give me that bullshit British martyr crap,” Beau scoffed. “She loves you. You love her. Get your shit together and go live happily-fucking-ever-after.”

Devon’s lips twisted. “If she doesn’t fall in love with the agent first,” he said. “Speaking of which, she used him to push me away tonight, so some repair needs to be done there.” He’d been a bloody idiot, falling for it. Now that he was looking at it outside the prism of emotion, he remembered seeing dots of sweat on her brow when he’d walked in. Her body had been stiff, and not in a way that said she’d been enjoying the agent’s attention.

Then after her big speech, what had she done? She’d put on her makeup, just like she had back home in Kansas. Her automatic defense mechanism. All of it, right under his nose as plain as day, and he’d been too blinded by rage and jealousy to see it.

“Now I’m a fucking love doctor? Jesus Christ.”

Beau’s exasperation was a complete put-on and Devon knew it. Beau loved nothing more than sticking his nose into other people’s business. His curiosity and inability to leave things alone were just a few of the reasons they’d met in the first place, and why he was an excellent intelligence agent.

Devon drank the last of his beer, then tossed the empty bottle in the trash can nearby. “I’ve got work to do,” he said. “Keep me informed.” He cast one last look at the live feed from inside Ivy’s apartment. He’d been tempted to wire the whole place, but had resisted the urge, not wanting to completely invade her privacy.

He wanted to go back to her, tell her he’d seen what happened, ask her why she hadn’t told him the truth—yet another mystery. Was she trying to protect him somehow? Or perhaps she really thought all this would stop if she ended their relationship.

“Hold on, what’s this?”

He’d just caught sight of two men going into her apartment. Another two waited outside in the corridor.

“What the hell—” Beau had seen it, too.

They watched in silence as the men walked toward her bedroom. A few moments later, they came out, one of them with Ivy
slung over his shoulder. The agent brought up the rear, looking completely unfazed by this turn of events.

Devon’s gun was out of its holster and in his hand before he’d even thought about the action. Beau’s hand locked around his wrist.

“Hold on, man, be cool,” he said. “You can’t go out there shooting at these guys.”

“Why the bloody hell not?” Devon retorted. “They’ve got Ivy.” He yanked his arm free, but Beau scrambled to block his path.

“Because there’s five of them and two of us,” Beau said urgently.

“Not a problem. Out of my way.”

“And Ivy might get hurt if we go out there guns blazing! Look,” he grabbed Devon’s arm again, “one of them has a badge on his belt. FBI.” He pointed to the screen. “They’ll all be armed. You getting killed won’t help Ivy, and neither will you offing a bunch of FBI agents.”

“The agent betrayed her,” Devon said bitterly. “I’ll kill him for that.”

“Agreed, and I’ll help, but we gotta know more first. Like why they want her. Is it because of you?”

Devon had a sinking feeling he knew why. Ivy had trusted the agent, had told him about the virus and the vaccine in her blood, and now they were kidnapping her. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said to Beau. Minutes later, he was in his car and heading toward the one person who might know where Ivy had been taken. The only problem was that Devon no longer trusted her.

Vega.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to Kele Moon for being an awesome sounding board for me.

Thank you to Nicole for crashing through this manuscript, twice, and being able to put into words what I really needed to hear.

Thank you to Shannon for being honest and willing to drop your entire TBR list when I needed you.

Thank you to Melody Guy, for being so Type A it hurts (in a good way).

Thank you to my BFFs, Nicole and Leslie, for always being available and willing to read, and reread, and reread again.

Thanks, as always, to my wonderful family who didn’t commit me to the loony bin as I was stressing writing this book.

Thank you to Kendra Elliot for making sure everything passed the bullshit test.

Thank you to Melinda Leigh for listening to me whine and moan.

Thank you to my amazing editor, Maria Gomez, for her endless cheer and encouragement, her extremely deft handling of sensitive issues, and most of all for her unwavering belief in me and my writing.

And thank you to the team of awesome people at Montlake Romance. You all are a true pleasure to work with.

About the Author

Photo © 2014 Karen Lynn

Tiffany Snow has been reading romance novels since she was too young to read romance novels. After a career working in the information technology field, Tiffany now has her dream job of writing full time.

Tiffany makes her home in the Midwest with her husband and two daughters. She can be reached at
[email protected]
. Visit her on her website,
www.Tiffany-Snow.com
, to keep up with her latest projects.

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