THE GUARDIAN (Taskforce Series) (15 page)

She held defiantly still. “What are you going to do? Kill me with your bare hands?” she taunted, calling his bluff.

Curling his fingers around the sturdy silver links of her necklace, he readied himself to rip the chain off. But her enticing scent and the luscious curve of her lips sparked an overwhelming desire to steal a kiss first. He drew her closer and lowered his head, intent on crushing his mouth over hers
.

But before their lips even touched, the cold, blunt tip of what felt like a pistol gouged his abdomen. Next came the unmistakable click of a gun’s safety.

Where in hell had that come from?

“Step away from me, Abdul, or I’ll drop you dead right here,” she grated sweetly
.

All
Jackson
could do was to stare at her in astonishment
.
 
 

“You think I won’t?” She gave a soft throaty laugh that stirred both his incredulity and his libido. “I can claim you attacked me for the money, and that I shot you in self-defense. You’re an ex-con on parole, and I’m a helpless, solitary female. There isn’t a jury in the state of
Maryland
that wouldn’t support my right to defend myself.”

Helpless, my ass, he thought, though truth was he could knock that little gun right out of her hands and overcome her in an instant. The pistol might just go off in the process, however, drawing unwanted attention to Artie’s and possibly even injuring one of them. Maybe they ought to have that little talk she’d just mentioned.

“Let’s discuss this,” he said, wondering what the hell could be so important that she would disregard both a death threat and an assault in a dark alley.

“What
a
fine idea. Take three steps back,” she ordered on a harder note.

Reluctant to relinquish his hold on her necklace,
Jackson
nonetheless let go and backed away three paces. He hoped she wasn’t filming his humiliation
.
For the time being, though, his attention was focused on the pistol in her competent-looking grasp. “Easy, woman,” he cautioned, when she leveled it at his chest.

“Don’t call me that. I am sure as hell not your woman.” 

Yeah, that was the part of all this that bothered him the most
.
   

“Now listen to me and listen well,” she seethed, her fury returning. “I have no intention of leaving the area until my book is written, so get that through your thick skull now. Perhaps you’d like to know, in the meantime, that I still have videos of you in my possession, despite the fact that you stole my three thousand dollar camera and my laptop. I swear to you I’ll put your face on every widely publicized forum in the country if you tell
anyone
what you learned about me from pillaging my laptop.”

He glanced down at her pendant, certain that little sucker was the source of her so-called videos. Had she offloaded those she’d taken previously, or were they still stored in the pendant’s memory?

“Tell me what you’re after,”
Jackson
demanded, struggling to fathom her plans
.
 

“I just told you. I have a book to write.”

That wasn’t the whole story and he knew it. “Why all the pictures of me?” he persisted. “What do you want with Sulayman?” 

The pointed question turned her rigid. “Considering the havoc you wreaked on my life the other night, I don’t think I owe you any answers,” she retorted. “You’re damn lucky I don’t just shoot you out of spite. In fact, I suggest you haul ass now before I change my mind.”

Jackson
considered lunging for the pendant first. Only he didn’t trust her not to shoot him—probably not lethally but in a spot that would slow him down and force him to have to explain how he came by a bullet wound. He couldn’t risk getting thrown out of Gateway for violating rules of behavior.

With a grin that promised retribution, he accepted that he had lost this round. “See you Wednesday, then,” he tossed out with a grin that promised retribution. Before she could cancel his scheduled interview, he withdrew behind the dumpster. Darting through a break in the chain-link fence, he crouched behind the ivy to watch her jump into Schlesser’s Jeep and peel out of the parking.

An incredulous chuckle sandpapered
Jackson
’s throat as he recalled how she’d attempted to turn the tables on him. But then he pictured her having to do the same with a hardened criminal like
Davis
, and his humor evaporated.

She might be able to hold her own with Abdul, who was, in actuality, a law-abiding citizen, but
Davis
was another animal altogether
.

What could be so important to
Lena
that she would ignore a death threat to get it?   

As her taillights faded in the direction of the bank, he pushed to his feet and headed in defeat toward his dorm room. Tomorrow, he’d alert his colleagues to
Lena
’s pendant and warn them that she was also packing heat. Hell if he’d tell them how he’d found that out, though.

**

With fingers locked around the steering wheel,
Lena
flew up the 235 to PNC Bank.

Dear God.
A belated shiver of horror cascaded through her. Had Abdul really planned on strangling her to death?

For some strange reason, she hadn’t felt like her life was actually in danger. She just didn’t fear the man. Maybe it was the restraint in his long, warm fingers. Or the unspoken communication that seemed to exist between them assuring her that he was all bluster and no bloodlust. But, hell, if he could commit larceny, which he’d basically admitted to, what made her think he wouldn’t stoop to murder?

Because he hadn’t come close to inflicting the kind of punishment she’d experienced at the hands of angry criminals before police supervision interceded, that was why. And right before she’d pulled her gun on him, she could have sworn he was about to kiss her
.
 

Careening off the highway under the bright lights of the bank drive-thru,
Lena
dropped the money pouch through her lowered window into the drop-off box. As she tugged the bar that swept it safely into the vault, her disposable phone buzzed. She knew it was Peter calling; no one else had this number
.

“Hey,” she answered, smoothing the quaver from her voice.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, surprisingly astute.

“Yeah, sure.” If he knew what was really going on, he’d badger her to return home tonight. “You must be back from the beach already,” she guessed, focusing the conversation back on him. “How was it?”

“Awesome. I’m a little sunburned, but I’m rested. How’s your master scheme unfolding?”

“Terrific,” she lied. Humid air wafted into the car window, smelling of hot pavement and cow manure. She closed the window, cranked up the air conditioner, and pulled slowly away from the bright lights. “
Davis
has agreed to be interviewed,” she disclosed, too distracted by the night’s events to feel much of a victory. “But first I’m going to interview the others so he’ll lower his guard while I get some practice in. That way I’m prepared to lead him to his execution. I won’t question him till next week.”

“Good idea,” Peter said. “So everything’s going as planned.”

Not exactly.
“Did you get my email?” she asked as casually as possible. “Something is going on with the office servers. I had to send it to your g-mail account.”

“Yeah, the servers at work have crashed big time. I’ve got the IT guys working on it. That’s actually why I had to come back early. I’ll check my g-mail tonight, babe. What’s up?”

“Oh, I just need your help identifying one of the parolees.”

“Why don’t you just look him up on the NCIC? I thought your friend at the DA gave you his log-in information.” 

“I did. This guy isn’t there.”

“How could he not be there? It’s a national database,” Peter pointed out
.

“I know, but he’s not. Plus, he’s been trying to get rid of me from day one when he saw me with my camera.”

“He saw you?” Alarm raised the pitch of Peter’s voice.

She deliberated whether to tell him of the break-in; how else would she explain her missing equipment? “This guy actually broke into my house and stole my camera and my laptop. I’m having to use the computer in the store.”

“What
?
”

He definitely didn’t need to hear about Abdul’s death threat
.

“His name is Abdul Ibn Wasi, and he obviously has something to hide,” she stated quickly, keeping him focused on the mystery and not on the danger. “Supposedly, he served time for running a pit-bull fighting ring and pocketing wagers, but I’m not buying that.” She’d seen how the dog in Artie’s parking lot had ceased to bark at his command, a behavior that connoted respect not fear. “It doesn’t explain why his history has been erased.”

“Maybe he’s in some kind of witness protection program.” 

“Do you think you can find out?”

“Babe, I can find out anything,” Peter said with egotism that grated her ears, but assured her nonetheless
.

“Excellent.” After the stunt Abdul had just pulled, he was going to rue the day he met her.

“I’ll start making inquiries tonight,” Peter promised.

Given all his myriad contacts in the law-enforcement community,
Lena
had high hopes he would find something soon. “I appreciate it.”

“How’s everything otherwise?” Peter didn’t sound so optimistic
.

“Perfect. I’m in with the parolees, I’ve still got my pendant, and I can always replace my laptop,” she assured him.

“You sound a little shaken.” 

He knew her too well. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for your help, Peter. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Before he could fill her mind with doubts,
Lena
ended the call and put her phone away. Talking on a cell phone while driving was illegal in
Maryland
, anyway, and coursing the dark highway and the even darker country road to her rental home required concentration.

With every mile, her tension mounted. She hoped to God she wouldn’t be coming home to more destruction and death-threats tonight.

When the light on her front porch splintered the dark copse on her right, she breathed a sigh of relief. It didn’t look like anyone had been here wreaking havoc in her absence. All the same, she held her pistol before her as she ventured inside, ready to shoot.

**

Jackson
slipped on his running shoes and started for the door. He’d been waiting all damn day for this.

Corey looked up, startled. “You gonna run in the rain?”

“Rain don’t bother me none,”
Jackson
assured him, stepping out into the deluge
.

It had been the longest damn day of his life. Between Ike’s text advising him to rendezvous with Toby at nineteen thirty tonight and Imam Ibrahim’s eye-opening lesson that morning, everything felt like it was up in the air. Plus, Ike must have found out something critical for Toby to be meeting him in person.

Pounding up the highway,
Jackson
arrived at the utility road in record time. By the time he bounded to the secure spot where Toby had played a practical joke on him previously, the rain had soaked him to the skin.