Virtues (Base Branch Series Book 8) (4 page)

“
I
can have
us out of here, no trace, in one hour.” Luck jetted past her into the building’s garage.

Cara jerked to a stop at the base of the stairs. The last thing in the world her daughter needed to see was a dead body. Especially today. Especially one Cara had killed. “Upstairs,” she ordered.

Luck skidded to a halt and swiveled a wide-eyed questioning look at her.

She offered him a brusque nod and grabbed Rin’s hand. Clunking boots and the slap of sandals echoed in the concrete and metal interior. Something shifted inside Cara’s chest as she hauled Rin up the steps like a child. As Cara had when she was five and they walked through a congested parking lot, the delicate hand wriggled and jerked against the mandate.

“Do we really need to leave?” Rin planted both feet, forcing Cara to make a decision. Stop or release her daughter’s hand. She stopped and turned to find Rin’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “They said you were free.”

“Babe.” Luck placed his hand on Rin’s shoulder. His thumb rubbed in a sweet circle over the edge of her tank top and bare skin. Her narrow jaw arced toward him. They made such a stunning pair. It wasn’t their easy looks but those broken edges that fit together to make an unparalleled whole. Even her grudge against the boy couldn’t discount the proof. He kissed the tip of Rin’s nose and then levered back. “People lie.”

“Don’t I know it.” Rin didn’t yell the words or even speak them with anger, which sharpened their points all the more.

Using fingertips to pinch her sides, Cara stemmed the flow of blood from the wound her daughter’s truthful words inflicted. She pasted on the poker face she’d mastered over a lifetime, turned, and continued. Vail Tucker’s proposal had taken her to her knees almost as much as holding her daughter again after so many years apart surely had. His word alone wasn’t enough on which to hang the safety of her daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law. She needed to cast feelers to her back alley and high-level informants. Verification of the Base Branch’s existence and Vail Tucker’s place in it would be a starting point. Tyler Grace’s would be icing on the multi-layered cake. But … if she verified them, she’d also risk giving away hints on her location.

Thoughts and ideas fluttered around her like mayflies over a corpse. If she caught one, another demanded her attention. She needed to get her scattered thoughts together. So much had happened after a decade and a half of nothing. Nothing but hiding and covering her ass every day of the year and worrying about her child.

Cara halted on the second landing. Rin and Luck pulled up short on the small platform with her. Without thought or preamble, she opened her arms, closed her eyes, and hoped like hell.

Lanky, lively arms pretzeled her chest, and a gasp seeped through her lips. She wrapped her arms around her daughter’s back and squeezed the breath out of them both. Contentment haunted, tugging her heart like a marionette.

She opened an arm, yanked Luck into the fold, and exhaled fully for the first time since they’d left the warehouse. Her head bobbed against Rin’s silky hair.

“We’re not going anywhere right now,” she declared.

“Not leaving?” Luck lurched back. The fight or flight instinct etched his features.

“No. Well, except to get something to eat. Who’s hungry?” Cara let her hand squeeze its way down Rin’s arm and then around her hand.

“You’re not going to take this seriously?” Luck stepped into her path.

“I just got my daughter back. I just got you back. I won’t lose either of you by running away from a group who's given me no reason to run and the grace to stay. I will verify Vail Tucker’s story and Tyler Grace’s background for starters.” Unbidden, the use of his name conjured the image of the loose-hipped soldier cowboy. His easy smile and hard hands nabbed her focus. She rubbed a hand over her cheek, enjoying and hating the hint of heat.

“Rin has made a life here.” Cara’s free hand lifted for Luck’s. “You’ve made a life here and plans for a future.” Luck’s gaze danced toward the garage and then back. “We won't throw it all away on a whim.”

One at a time, they squeezed her hand.

“So where do you want to eat?”

* * *

“
I
know
what you’re doing.” Rin pointed her manicured finger at Cara.

“Thank you, Marco.” Cara smiled at the boyishly handsome waiter.

“My pleasure.” He slid a glass rich with red liquid, bursting with slices of strawberries, oranges, and apples in front of Rin. “Can I get either of you more water?” His gaze slid to Luck’s empty chair across from her and next to her daughter’s seat.

“That would be lovely.” She nodded.

“Any dessert for you this evening?”

“I think we’re all stuffed from dinner.” Cara’s hand instinctively covered her queasy stomach. She’d eaten to soothe Luck’s nerves, while she plied her daughter with alcohol to soothe hers.

Mother of the year.

“Can’t tell it.” The waiter bent at the waist. He winked and flashed Cara a devilish little smile. “I’ll be right back with those drinks.”

Kids would do anything for a tip these days. Had she been alone on the other side of the world, she might have just let him. She had before. Young men with shaggy hair and foreign accents had saved her soul on more than one occasion.

“Thank you, Marco.” She dismissed him with a soft smile.

The waiter hadn’t cleared the concrete pedestal and mahogany-topped bar six feet from their table when Rin spouted, “Polo.”

Giggles seeped between Rin’s punch-red lips. Her hand smacked over her mouth in a futile effort to stem the eruption. The lid had blown and her pent-up emotions—joy, fear, sorrow—spewed out in liquor-soaked laughter.

Cara’s hand lifted to her heart. It was the most beautiful sound.

“Another one?” Luck pulled out his chair and sat, his arched brow aimed at Cara. He had excused himself to the bathroom, but from the slight gleam of sweat on his brow, she guessed pretty damn accurately that he’d taken a stroll around the block to check the scene. She didn’t offer an explanation, but he knew her motivation. Her daughter had been a tight ball of nerves. When he caught the jingle of Rin’s laughter, he forgot about Cara. The corners of his mouth lifted toward the exposed ductwork and lighting. “What?” His question was gentle and bursting with love and curiosity.

Rin doubled over, bracing her forehead against his chest. Maybe they hadn’t needed that last drink, after all.

“Polo.” Rin wheezed the word out between convulsive snickers.

“Marco. Polo.” Luck’s head shook back and forth, and slowly, his amusement mingled with hers.

The waiter returned with a pitcher of water and refilled their glasses. It incited an aftershock of laughter, and Marco had good enough sense not to stick around.

Warmth spread from her center and enveloped Cara, save for one cold spot at the base of her neck. This was contentment but not the completion of her mission. She had plenty left to do. Tomorrow.

“Oh, Lord.” Rin leaned back and mopped the tears and running mascara from under her eyes. “I don’t even like wine.”

“Sangria is more fruit than wine.” Cara waved a hand in the air, dismissing her worries.

“After three glasses, it’s not.” Luck pouted.

Cara leaned forward and lifted her glass. Rin lifted hers immediately. After several seconds and a nudge from her daughter, Luck raised his glass. She centered her attention on him first. “Sell the Bentley and buy your food truck.” He gave an exaggerated blink, and she turned her gaze on her daughter. “Make wedding plans. I don’t know much about them.” Cara’s marriage to the Russian asshole had been arranged for her. “But I’ll be honored to help any way I can.” She pressed the cold glass above the table in the center. “To the future.”

S
team rose
from the slit in the Styrofoam cup lid on the hood next to him. Only the dim streetlight at the edge of the parking lot allowed him to see it and the rust-riddled railing of the two-story no-tell motel. The moon had slipped off to the other side of the world hours ago, but the sun had yet to make an appearance. Lazy bastard. He enjoyed this time of day more than any other time. Dark didn’t mean quiet. Not until the first hours of the morning. The animals, human and non, skirting around civilization in the shadows turned in for the bright day. The law-abiding faction clung to those last precious minutes of sleep. This was the no man’s land of time. This was his time.

Tyler gulped the last of his gas station blend and set his empty cup next to the other one. His mouth stretched into a grin. He reached toward the darkness and arched into the ache of his bruised kidney. A growl usually reserved for the side of his bed rumbled to life. When it was over, he deflated slowly, resting his forearms on his knees. Below his cowboy boots, dried exoskeletons and bug guts speckled his chrome bumper.

“Sorry, Talulah. It looks like you won’t get that scrub down I promised. Not today, at least.” He patted the shiny hood with the edge of his fist. “She’s either a late sleeper or she’s figured me out. In which case, we’ll be on the road tracking her down for days.”

Talulah didn’t respond. His 2500 never did. It was what he liked best about her. Well, that and her ability to tow over a dozen head of cattle.

A soft click echoed around the corner, followed by the easy tread of small shoes. Heeled shoes. Chalk up a win for the good guys.

Cara Lee rounded the corner heading for the bus stop, he’d guessed. She didn’t have a car. Not that she couldn’t jack one in a few seconds or rent one, but last night at ten p.m., he’d followed Rin Lee’s Accord to this out of the way spot. He watched Luck see Cara inside and then tour the exterior, looking for him or someone like him. Too bad for the guy, Tyler was staked out two blocks away on the roof of an old bank.

The fraction of a second before she noticed him perched on the hood of his truck made the sleepless night an easy price to pay. Half-mast eyes surveyed the area with insipid interest. While she’d run for many years, not being caught inflated her confidence. Elegant legs glided over the cracked sidewalk in low-slung stilettos with a nonchalance that had him thinking of an afternoon of unhurried, sweaty entanglement.

Sleepy eyes snapped to attention. Every languid muscle contracted, drawing her up taut as a rope towing a ton. Cheekbones meant for a muse pointed at him rife with accusation.

“How the hell did you know where I was staying?” Her voice shook.

“Morning.” Tyler slid from the front of Talulah and regretted it the moment he was airborne. Coiling his knees to absorb the landing only added to the reverberation up his back. Hunter had done a number on him, and it was all this lady’s fault.

“Don’t try and sweet talk me. How did you know where I was staying?”

“Sweet talk? Darlin’, I haven’t started sweet talking you. When I do, trust me, you’ll know.” He reached back, pulled both coffee cups off Talulah, and offered the fresh one to Cara.

She dodged him and stomped away.

He caught up with her and kept stride before they passed the next motel room door.

“How’d you know?” she snarled.

“Do you think I cop a feel on all the steer I wrestle?”

Pianist fingers immediately combed through her hairline and then roamed over her collarbone, searching for the paper-thin tracking device. They reached the road in short order. She forced her hands to her sides. “Well, you are from the South.”

“Ouch!” Tyler tossed his empty cup into the garbage outside the bus portico and then clutched his heart. “Low blow. I may have to take my coffee back.”

“I haven’t taken your coffee.” Her arms flew out from her sides.

“But you will.” He winked.

“Pfft. You wish.”

He shrugged. “It’s not poisoned.”

“It’d be the first.”

“That rough, huh?”

She shoved her hands into her pockets and stared at the steaming cup. A grin niggled, but he kept it locked down. Her light blue gaze found his. “You have no idea.”

“No, I don’t suppose I do.” The sincerity in her expression sucker punched him. “Want to tell me about it?”

“Hit up the local library. I’m sure they have a story time.” She turned away. The back of her head was as pretty as the front. Hair piled atop her head in a tight bun showed off the fine curve of her neck.

“They don’t tell your story.”

Her head snapped in his direction. “And neither do I. Why are you here?”

“Nate Harlow wasn’t in your roundup yesterday. I’ll guess he’s your first stop this morning.” Besides the Base Branch, which was an unknown she was surely trying to figure out, her daughter’s ex-lover/CIA operative was the enemy she’d surfaced to handle. No way would she leave that stone unturned.

“Shows what you know.” Her brows danced.

Was she bluffing or did she have other business this morning? He couldn’t tell. “Oh, really?”

“I’m not your concern.”

“Actually.” He smiled because she was the best mission he’d had in years. “You are. If you start killing people willy-nilly, Base Branch won’t be able to sanction your amnesty.”

“You need a body to prove death, much less murder.” Thin lips outlined white teeth. Her lower incisor was shifted back and to the side, just a little, giving her mystery more depth.

“Nate knows that, which is why he went dark after his handler vanished.”

“He won’t be hard to find.”

“Not at all.” Tyler held out the Styrofoam cup. “Take a ride with me?”