TRACELESS (8 page)

“We put more distance between us and these bodies.”

“I’m all for that.”

“Davis will advise the proper authorities and get cleanup out here once the danger dies down.” Connor glanced behind him. “We need to identify these men and give them proper burials.”

Even with death Connor insisted on dignity. Of the many things she loved about him, his refusal to see the bad guys as less than human was one of them. He would kill and protect but he told her there were limits. She suspected that at some point either he or someone he worked with in the past breeched those limits.

“Until then, we wait out the afternoon.” He kissed her forehead.

Heat blasted through her from out of nowhere. The shaking inside her took on a very different feel. Call it adrenaline or a will to live, but in that moment she wanted his arms around her and his mouth on hers. “Interesting.”

He must have sensed the change in mood because his body tensed and his head lifted again, nice and slow. “Is it?”

“You, me and a cave?” Her fingers slipped over his scruff, loving the rough feel against her skin. “Not this one, but another one.”

“It’s too dangerous.” But his hands tightened on her waist and his body brushed against hers.

“Absolutely.” But it had been so long and her need for him pulsed inside her.

“And then there’s the part where we’re still fighting.”

She kissed his chin. “Not about this. We’ve always communicated just fine on this level.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?” The hand skimming down her back and over her backside said that was fine with him.

Her mouth moved to the space just below his ear. “Is it working?”

“I’ll let you know when we get to the cave.”

Chapter Nine

Holt stood across from where Marcel sat on his couch. After them pounding on the door and throwing Jana’s name around a few times, the guy finally let them in. Reluctantly. He didn’t exactly offer up drinks and information. He was too busy staring at the back of his hands.

Footsteps signaled Shane’s return from his trip to the bathroom down the hall. His fake trip that covered up his recon. No one could assess and categorize a place like Shane. In a few minutes he could survey the place, take it all in then spit out a description of the setting, down to the books in the bookcase, hours later.

Cam called it a photographic memory. Shane called it a gift he’d never asked for. Either way, it served the team well more than once.

Now he lounged in the doorway between the family room and the hall leading to the rest of the house. His eyes were half closed but Holt knew his friend noticed everything.

Shane had learned to sleep in short bursts. No question he was wide awake and ready for battle. The slight shake of his head said they were alone and he didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.

That was a shame. Holt hoped for a quick and not-so-dirty end to this. Looked like they had to push through it the hard way. And that meant cracking this guy.

He could dance around it and work on his subtlety but Holt suspected moving in for the kill would shake up this uptight dude. And Holt wanted to shake him hard. Starting now. “Anything you want to tell us about the charity?”

Marcel’s head came up fast. “Excuse me?”

“Some troubles you forgot to mention, maybe?” Shane managed to look bored and sound menacing at the same time.

Holt wished he had that skill. He tended to jump right to scaring the crap out of people who deserved much worse. Probably had something to do with his size. At six-three he often towered over people and his sister insisted he’d never learned to smile. Another effective tool, but he sensed this guy had information he wasn’t sharing. If whatever this Marcel left unsaid put Jana in danger, Connor wouldn’t have to rip the man apart because Holt would do it for him.

The papers at the charity offices might provide a lead. Cam secured most of them before staking the place out and waiting for the attackers to return. Then again, the whole kidnapping thing could be a ruse to destroy the evidence. If so, a lot of dead bodies littered the ground because of some shipping issue.

That was the kind of nonsense problem guaranteed to get Shane riled. And Holt loved watching that.

Marcel’s back stayed stick straight. “Did Connor tell you I did something wrong?”

Holt glanced at Shane before answering. “What’s your problem with my boss?”

“Nothing.” Between the sneer and the wave of his hand, Marcel’s actions telegraphed the exact opposite.

Shane pushed off from the wall and came to a halt beside Holt. The stark expression suggested Shane was right on the edge of doing something Connor would approve of...and Marcel would hate.

“Head’s up here, but you’re not convincing.” Shane widened his stance. “At all.”

“Jana deserves...”

“You?” Holt shot back, hoping to throw this reserved guy off his game.

“Of course not.”

“You’re fine there.” When Marcel stood up, Shane slapped a hand on his chest and pushed him back down. “Now try again.”

Marcel’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “This is about my concern for her.”

No question Connor needed to do something about this guy. Something that could involve punching and definitely included a few threats about staying away from his woman.

Holt snorted. “Yeah, concern. Got it.”

“You can leave now.”

Instead of moving away, Shane crowded in closer to the couch. “You want us to leave you alone? I guess that means you don’t mind if the kidnappers come here next.”

Marcel had to lean back to look up. “I thought this was about Connor.”

An interesting bit of conclusion jumping to Holt’s mind. “What ‘this’ are you referring to?”

“Well...whatever reason Jana is in danger.”

Funny how the guy who didn’t know anything about the break-in or Jana being taken a few hours ago all of a sudden had a theory. One that pointed away from him and put the blame squarely on someone else.

Holt noticed Marcel didn’t assume this was a burglary gone wrong or a random act. No, Marcel tied it all back to Connor. As far as red flags went, this was a pretty obvious one.

“Men stormed into your charity office, blew the place apart and took off. Your business, not Connor’s.” Shane set out the scenario then stood there, staring. He could go without talking for hours. It wore people down fast. This time he stayed quiet just long enough for Marcel to start squirming. Amazing how that trick of Shane’s always worked. Holt vowed to work that one into his repertoire.

“Who’s over at the office now?” Marcel asked.

“One of my men.” Holt stationed Cam there. The guy could hold his position, not move for hours. The skill made Holt wonder just what the guy did before he threw in with Corcoran. Cam liked to joke but there was a vein of steel underneath.

Marcel shifted. “We should—”

Shane held up a hand, clearly ready to shove the guy down again. “Stay there.”

“Why?”

“Reinforcements are coming.” Holt didn’t like new people and certainly didn’t trust some random guy to walk in and clear all this up. But Holt trusted Connor and if he said this Drake person from Connor’s past could help, Holt would go along. Be wary but not object.

“The police are taking over?” The color left Marcel’s cheeks as he said the word.

“Nope.” But the comment drew Holt’s interest. Shane must have thought so, too, since he snuck a peek at Holt.

“Who then?” Marcel grabbed on to the edge of the sofa cushion.

Tension whipped through the room. If Marcel hadn’t been a suspect before then, he sure was now. Getting anxious at the mention of law enforcement was never a good sign.

The more jumpy Marcel got, the calmer Holt felt. “We’re bringing in a guy who is very familiar with your charity. He’s been following your work for a while now.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Shane smiled in a way that promised a certain type of satisfaction. “You will.”

* * *

C
onnor
kept
them
in the shade as much as possible. They trekked over flat rocks and through soft red sand. His calves tightened and the sun burned his exposed skin. He made her wear the protective vest and her shirt underneath despite the heat. Taking off his outer shirt, he had her wrap it around her head for some amount of protection.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. Pieces of hair hung down around her face and every so many steps she dragged her feet. Tired and damp and covered in both of their clothing she still was the hottest woman he’d ever seen. When she made her offer back in the cave he almost lost control. He’d been dreaming about her and missing her. He loved the thought of finally making love with her again, but her timing needed work.

Right now he needed them out of the heat of the day and somewhere less exposed. They couldn’t run and didn’t see anyone else. It was a slog. One during which he spent most of the time scanning the distance and listening for signs of life from the attacker’s radio. It never squawked.

Clearly someone on the other side knew not to give anything away. Again suggesting they were dealing with trained professionals. At least Connor’s worries about a novice making wild decisions and opening fire without thinking lessened. If these guys knew what they were doing he might be able to track their potential movements and anticipate them.

“Any idea where we’re going, or are we walking around blind?” She tugged at the neckline of her shirt and waved a hand in her face like a makeshift fan.

“Holt passed along a potential hiding spot from Davis.” Using the coordinates and tracking on the satphone, Connor could tell they were almost on top of it.

Somehow they’d made the walk without running into animals of the two-or four-legged kind. No gunfire and no racing from attackers. It was a nice change but the respite didn’t fool Connor. Whatever was happening wasn’t over.

“Does he spend a lot of time in Southern Utah?” She watched each step with care.

“No, but he can read topography reports and maps. Then he probably had Joel hack into military software and—”

She put an arm across Connor’s chest. “Sorry I asked.”

They crested a small hill and looked out over the wide expanse of orange and red rubble with brush sprinkled throughout. In the distance a rough rock wall towered high enough to block the view to anything beyond. The uneven surface and slabs jutting out probably qualified as a climber’s dream. Connor hoped the opposite side had some shade.

She walked faster now. On her third step she jumped out of a deep divot running in a line along the ground and followed a section of rubble toward a pile of rocks about three feet high.

Something moved and he felt that familiar tick at the back of his neck that signaled danger. “Hold up.”

The brown lump blended into a patch of sand. The colors matched the landscape and gave the impression of a group of rocks. But he knew exactly what he was looking at and it wasn’t a rock or a twig or anything else. It was very much alive.

She spun around as her hand went to the gun strapped to her side. “What now?”

This could go very badly. He had to tell her and fast because if she spied it first—worse, if it moved—the screaming would bring every guy with a gun within a hundred miles running.

Connor held up his hands and concentrated on lowering his voice as he delivered the news. “Do not move or yell.”

“Why?”

“You need to stay calm.”

“Now you’re scaring me.”

He nodded to a spot about ten feet in front of her. “There is a...”

She followed his gesture. Sprinting came next. She was at his side, tugging on his arm and all but climbing on top of him before he could say the word.
Snake.

After all her traveling and the lessons her father passed on, not much scared her. Spiders, fine. Terrible weather, no problem. Scary highways, heights and tight spaces, all good. Snakes... They were a different story. They terrified her.

Her foot inched up the back of his calf as she curled around him. “This is my nightmare.”

Her voice shook and she pushed in even tighter. Glanced all around. Even took out her gun.

The closeness worked for him but he hated to see her fear. “I know.”

“Where is it exactly?”

He lowered her weapon and slipped it back into the holster. “Under the rock pile.”

“There are a hundred of those. I don’t see...” She squinted, then her eyes popped open wide. “Oh.”

Even though he doubted she could hear him, he tried to smooth this out. More information usually eased panic but in this case probably not. “It’s a nightsnake.”

“It’s daytime.”

“I think it refers to their preference of staying hidden during the day.”

“I don’t even want to know how you know that.”

“I studied them when you came out here.” After they got off the phone he’d spend hours paging through information about Utah. There were all sorts of critters out there. Many he doubted she even thought about but kept him up at night with new worries, but snakes were an issue for her so he studied up. “Looked up a bunch of photos.”

Her expression morphed to the what-is-wrong-with-you type. “Because?”

“I know you’re afraid of snakes and that snakes are in abundance here, so if you got into trouble and called or sent a photo I wanted to be able to tell you what you could do.” He thought he heard a little “ahhh” and figured he’d lost her somewhere in the dry explanation. Probably had something to do with the way her body fit against his and how talking and not thinking kept him from stripping the clothes off her. “What?”

“I’d kiss you if I wasn’t afraid of dying.”

“You won’t die,” he assured her. “It’s only mildly venomous.”

“Mildly?”

That’s what the book said. This type of snake slept during the day and was fine so long as not provoked and he had no intention of doing that, even if the snake wasn’t a worry for humans. “Yes.”

“Is that ‘mildly’ part really a thing?”

He didn’t know how to answer that so he spit out another fact. “The snake prefers lizards to people. We’re totally safe.”

“Is it wrong that I’m hoping it’s dead?” She grabbed on to him even tighter. Wound her arm through his and stood on his foot. “Not in a vicious incident or anything. Like, not a snake hunter, if those exist. Something like old age, but I definitely need him or her, whatever it is, not breathing.”

The babbling thing made him want to smile but he didn’t dare. “You okay?”

“I don’t like snakes.”

They tended to fail at communication lately but he got this point. “We’ll swing wide and leave him alone.”

“What if he has friends or this is like an informal snake town or something?”

“Wow.” He made a mental note to hire an exterminator to check the Maryland property every few months or so.

Though the thought of Jana jumping into his arms every now and then certainly didn’t bother him. The way her teeth chattered now did.

“I hate snakes.”

“Again, noted.” He put an arm around her. “I can carry you.”

Her fighting spirit came sprinting back. It flashed in her eyes and showed in her frown. “I’m not that pathetic.”

A few years of marriage had taught him one thing. There was no right answer to that sort of comment. “Okay.”

They had to keep moving, so he guided her around the snake’s resting place. Took her way over to the side, nowhere near the suspect bush, all while looking around for more snakes. Thinking they’d survived the rock and tree obstacle course, he walked toward their afternoon hideout.

A few feet out, she stopped. “I would have, you know.”

He tried to figure out if he’d missed part of the conversation. “What are we talking about?”

“Called you.” She slipped her hand into his. “If I got into trouble, you are the one I’d cling to. Even with the fighting and wanting to shake you—”