Читать книгу The Men In Uniform Collection - Barbara McMahon - Страница 31

CHRISTIE WOKE when she kicked him. Boone didn’t move an inch. She had no idea what time it was. Not too early, because the sun streaming through her living room blinds was strong. Milo snuffled, then rose, walking toward the kitchen without a backward glance. She stared at Boone.

He was such a puzzle of a man. Nothing like Nate. At least not where women were concerned. She had no illusions about her late brother. He’d been born a hound dog and he’d died one. If there was a woman within a fifty-mile radius, he knew about it, and he didn’t let man or war get in the way. Not that the women had complained. Christie felt sure every one of them had fond memories of their brief stints with Nate. She also felt sure that wherever he was, he was smiling and remembering each and every one.

Which was exactly what she’d expected of Boone. They were buddies, pals, and they did their secret work in secret places together, side by side. Surely they’d whored together, too.

She watched his eyes move behind his lids. What was he dreaming about? Some mission in Panama? Or the Balkans? Or Iraq? Or was it one of his other conquests?

She liked his face. Oddly, his nose was on the small side, but it worked. His lips, now they were something. And man, did he know how to use them.

As if he’d heard her thoughts, his lips parted and she glimpsed his teeth, so straight she knew he’d had braces as a boy. Her gaze moved back to his eyes. Still darting about. And his lashes. Geez, they were long. She’d love lashes like that. They fanned out in perfect arcs, and when they were standing outside in the sun, they cast perfect little shadows above his cheeks.

Altogether a very doable guy. Who had slept next to her all night without even the slightest nudge. Weird.

Milo whined from the kitchen, and Christie climbed off the mattress as carefully as she could. Despite what lay behind her bedroom door, she wasn’t nearly as scared now, not in the light. So she went to feed her dog, give him fresh water and start the coffee.

He’d been feeding her. Boone, not Milo. Feeding her vegetables and fruits and blender concoctions and pasta. He was obsessed with health, and all she could think of was chocolate. Not just any chocolate, but Godiva chocolate, in the little gold box. Well, boxes. As many as she could hold. But of course, with all the training and all the shooting, and all the blood all over her bed, there wasn’t time to go to the mall. Yeah, she had the Twinkies, but it wasn’t the same.

She shivered as she dished out Milo’s breakfast. He went immediately to the task while she turned her attention to the coffee. Nothing could be done before she’d had at least two cups.

Once the coffee was brewing, she headed to the bathroom. When she got out, there was Boone, standing in the hallway, his gun present and at the ready.

“Dammit, Christie,” he said, lowering the weapon. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were dreaming. It seemed a shame to interrupt.”

“Dreaming? Are you nuts?”

“I’m pretty sure I am, yes.”

“Okay, then,” he said, wiping his right eye. “Is the coffee ready?”

“A couple of minutes.”

He nodded, then took her place in the bathroom.

She stood for a moment, watching the door. Then she turned, headed for the kitchen just in time to see Milo slip outside via the doggy door.

She wanted to change clothes. She didn’t care into what, just something she hadn’t slept in. But that would mean going in her bedroom, and she wasn’t up to that at all.

Yeah, she was a miserable shot, but if she could get him in her sights, oh, man, she knew she’d hit a bull’s-eye. Several times.

As she reached for her big mug, the one with the purple glaze, something caught her eye out the kitchen window. A truck, old and dark, pulling up to the curb in front of her house.

In an instant, she was trembling. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest she could hardly breathe. She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t anything to do with her. Why should it be? This was a public street in the middle of Culver City, but oh, crap, why right there?

She backed up as the truck door opened. A woman stepped out. She was dressed in jeans and a blue sweater, and had a big canvas bag over her shoulder. Behind her, a man walked around the front of the truck. He was tall, big, like Boone. He carried a duffel bag with him that weighed a lot. He, too, was in jeans, but damn if she couldn’t imagine him in a uniform.

“Boone?” she called, shouting toward the hallway. “Are you expecting visitors?”

He didn’t answer, but her heart calmed down as she remembered him mentioning a friend he needed to call. She was glad she’d made a big pot of coffee. And curious about the woman.

Boone walked into the kitchen and headed for the coffee.

Christie nodded at the window. “Friends of yours?”

“Yeah,” he said, making a 180, so he could meet them at the front door.

She followed. The couple walked in without talking. Both the woman and the man shook his hand, as if they were business associates.

Boone closed the door, locked it, then turned to Christie. “Seth, Kate, this is Christie.”

They nodded at her solemnly, then turned to Boone. “Where do you want me to start?” Seth asked.

He was actually taller than Boone by a couple of inches, and he had eyes to die for. What was it about Delta Force that brought them such gorgeous men?

“Bedroom,” Boone said, nodding down the hallway.

Seth shifted his duffel to his other hand and headed away.

“Do you want some coffee?” Christie asked, as he passed.

“No, thanks.”

“What about me?”

It was the woman. Kate. Christie faced her, and saw that she was attractive, in a hard kind of way. Stark lines, great cheekbones, but cold, too. Even her voice was hard. Although she had amazing hair. Dark, long, straight and so shiny it looked as if she could have been in a shampoo commercial.

“I’m going to work with Seth,” Boone said. “You two have some coffee. Talk.”

With that cryptic assignment, Boone went right to the bedroom, leaving Christie with this rather dour, strange woman.

When Christie faced her, Kate didn’t seem at all disconcerted. “You have real cream?”

Christie nodded. “This way.”

BOONE WAS CROUCHED DOWN beside Seth’s duffel, checking out the neat toys. “How do you get this stuff?” he asked.

“I have my ways.”

Boone knew he’d never get more information than that. He glanced at the bed beside them. The fake blood had turned a deep, viscous brown, and smelled sickly sweet. But he wasn’t thinking about the bed. “This asshole’s about six feet tall, slim, he wore goggles. He didn’t turn on the lights. The blood was in a big container—plastic, I think—and he was in and out in seven minutes. It was highly polished for a passion stalker.”

“Who says it’s passion?”

“What else?”

“Lots of things. Revenge. Money. Sex.”

Boone sighed as he stood. “I thought about all of that, but blood on the bed? That’s spells passion to me. I don’t know. Maybe Kate can figure it out.”

“Don’t count on it. Hey, what’s this?” Seth moved to the bedside table, and slid the whole unit out from the wall. He looked under the lip, ran his hand down the wood, then stopped. It took him a second, but he pulled out a strip of dark tape.

“What’s that?”

Seth held up his other hand, then took a magnet from his bag and ran it over the tape four or five times. “It’s a new kind of bug. It records audio data, but it’s very sensitive. I just scrambled it but good.”

“Shit, where’s he getting this stuff?”

“He obviously has deep pockets.”

“Yeah. That’s what I was thinking.”

“CIA, maybe?”

“More likely than FBI.”

Seth sat back on his haunches and looked at Boone. “We shouldn’t be messing with this. Maybe this isn’t just about Christie. You know that, right?”

“Nate’s dead, Seth. Everything he knew went with him.”

“We know that.”

Boone dragged a hand through his hair. “So do they. I can’t think of one reason they’d go after Christie. She’s completely on the outside.”

“I hope you’re right. It’s our lives, bro.”

Boone stared at his friend for a long time. “There’s only one way to know for sure. We catch him.”

“Let’s hope he’s the only one who gets caught.”

CHRISTIE SAT ACROSS THE TABLE from Kate, who sipped her coffee and looked at Christie as if she were going to have to draw her face from memory. “So, uh, how do you know Boone?”

“We hang out at the same places. Know some of the same people.”

“Were you in the service?”

Kate shook her head. “I worked for the UN.”

Christie waited, but it was clear Kate wasn’t going to elaborate “What do you do now?”

“I work for an R & D firm in Canoga Park.”

“I see,” Christie said, even though she didn’t. Was everyone in Boone’s life so secretive? Jeez, it was like living in a spy novel. “What is it you’re supposed to talk to me about?”

Kate smiled. It was a nicer smile than Christie expected, and there was some real warmth behind it. “Men.”

“In general?”

“No. Men you know. Or have known. We need to find this creep, and the odds are, you’ve either met him, or had some kind of relationship with him.”

“You don’t think I’ve wracked my brain trying to figure this out?”

“The point is, you’ve wracked your brain. Now it’s my turn.”

“You’re not thinking of using needles, right?”

She laughed. “No. Sodium pentathol is so Cold War. We’re just going to talk.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Then if we don’t find anything, I have drugs.”

Christie looked at her for a long while before she got that it was a joke. “This is my first cup of coffee. Don’t mess with me until at least cup three.”

“Check.” Kate reached into her big bag and pulled out a notebook and a pen. “Let’s start from the beginning. Any boyfriends in high school?”

“You’re not serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

“Okay then.” Christie sipped her coffee as she went back to high school. It hadn’t been a good time for her. She’d gotten good grades, but had to work hard for them. She’d also been on the track team and tried out for cheerleader. She hadn’t made it. Then there was that whole Scott Fairchild incident. “In my senior year I went out with a guy named Jim Lynsky.”

“Tell me about him.”

“He transferred into my high school that final year. He’d come from Yugoslavia, of all things. His father was a doctor there.”

“Really?” Kate jotted down notes, and she was very fast. Her writing was neat, tiny and from what Christie could see, fastidious.

“We only went out for about four months. He was into surfing and when he figured out he could get somebody better than me, he did.”

“Ouch.”

“I’ve had better days.”

“Okay, college.”

HE SAT STARING AT THE MONITOR, even though it had no image. Big Bad Boone had done a good job of cleaning out the house. Not perfect, but good.

He closed his eyes, remembering her scream. The sound of it had given him an incredible erection, and he was tempted to play the tape again. But there were things to do. Lots of interesting things. The anticipation was almost as good as the scream. Especially now that he knew all about lover boy.

SETH HAD FOUND FOUR MORE strips of the bug tape, the most disturbing one under the box spring. While he worked, Boone stripped the bed and cleaned up all traces of the sticky blood. He found fresh sheets in the hall closet to remake the bed, although he doubted Christie would be sleeping there any time soon. At least it didn’t look like a set piece from Friday the 13th.

Seth also took a look at the camera Boone had set up, and he made a few adjustments. They put a second camera in the closet, and a third focused on the window. They could see exactly how the geek had gotten access to the house; he’d cut the glass all around the outside edge, then when he was through, he’d put it back so it was virtually undetectable. Seth had glued the pane in place and added a nifty little trip wire that would alert them to any future attempts.

“I think this room is good,” Seth said. “What next?”

“The kitchen, then the living room. We’ll do the guest room last.”

“What about the bathroom?”

“You can scan in there, but no cameras.”

“Is there access?”

“Yeah. Change all the locks. And there’s the garage and her car.”

“Got it. You know I could use some of that coffee now.”

Boone went to the door. “You still like it black?”

“Yup.”

Boone left him and headed for the kitchen. He slowed as he approached, standing just within earshot of the two women.

“That’s Dan Paterson. He’s a psychologist. He was nice, when I needed someone to be there. It was just after my brother died.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Kate said.

“Yeah. Me, too. Did you know him?”

Boone moved closer to the kitchen entrance, making sure he was quiet.

“Yeah, I knew him. He was a hell of a soldier. And a good friend.”

He didn’t hear anything else, except for Milo. When Boone walked into the room, he saw the dog sitting right next to Christie’s chair, scratching at his neck, which made his collar jingle.

“You guys done?” Christie asked.

“Not even close. I’m just getting Seth some coffee.”

Christie nodded, then turned back to Kate. “Anyway, we met at this bar I go to sometimes. They play trivia there, and it was a nice way to spend an evening when I had nothing better to do.”

“How soon did you meet him? I mean, after Nate’s death.”

Christie sighed behind him. “A month, I guess. I remember it was the first night I’d been out in a long time. He gave me an answer to one of the trivia questions, then bought me a drink.”

“How long did you go out?”

“A few months.”

“What went wrong?”

“I don’t know. Me, I guess. He wanted to help, but I didn’t want all those questions. It was like going to therapy instead of a date.”

“What kind of questions?”

Boone didn’t even make a pretense about listening now. He got himself a coffee refill, then filled a cup for Seth, but he went to the table and sat down. He wanted to hear this.

Christie looked at him, and he could tell she was disconcerted by his presence, but he didn’t care.

She cleared her throat, then looked at Kate. “About my family. My relationship with my mother and father. That kind of crap.”

“Did he ask a lot of questions about Nate?”

“What do you mean by a lot?”

“Did he focus on Nate?”

“No. Just me. He thought I couldn’t get close to a man because of my relationship with my mother.”

“What was wrong with it?”

“Is that necessary for your profile?”

Kate sat back. “No. Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” She bent down and petted Milo. “What are you scratching, buddy? It’s really starting to get old.”

Boone figured he’d better get the coffee to Seth. And that he’d best leave Kate to do her thing. “You guys take your time,” he said. “Don’t miss a trick. It could matter a lot.”

Christie smiled at him as he stood. She nodded once, then sat up straighter. As he walked out of the room, he heard Christie talk about a guy named Brent, and Milo, scratching again.

He took his time walking down the hall. He wasn’t thinking about the bugs in her room, but the man who’d been in her bed. He’d ask Kate for his last name later. It wouldn’t surprise him if this Dan clown turned out to be the stalker. Psychologist. What a pussy. He’d like to see Danny boy in the field. He wouldn’t last ten minutes. Jerk.

“Hey, what the hell took so long?”

Boone walked into the guest bedroom to find Seth on top of the bed, running a scan over the light fixture.

“Sorry.”

“They on to anything?”

“Don’t know. Kate’s being thorough.”

“Didn’t expect anything less.”

“How we doing in here?”

“Give me twenty.”

Boone nodded, went to the duffel and pulled out his kit, then crouched in the corner and cleaned his weapon. Seth moved around the room like smoke, getting into corners and crevices, under and over, in places Boone never would have thought to look.

Boone’s electronic expertise wasn’t about bugs. It was radios, GPS systems, telecommunications. When they were in the field, Boone got them where they needed to go, and got them out again. When necessary, he was the man that got the updated orders, and he was the one to report home.

Seth, on the other hand, was surveillance. He could listen to anyone, anywhere, anytime, with no one the wiser. They worked well together. They had for years.

Once Seth gave him the all clear, he knew it was safe to talk again. And there was something he really needed to know. “What do you hear from the rest?”

Seth looked at him for a long time before he went and picked up his cup of coffee. He drank, put the cup down, and walked over to Boone. Once he was crouched in front of him, he put his hand on Boone’s leg. “Everyone’s alive.”

“Alive? Sometimes that isn’t enough.”

“Cade’s working in Colorado. Leading tour groups through the mountains.”

Boone smiled. That made sense. “What about Harper?”

“She’s working in a clinic right here in L.A. Downtown. She’s happy.”

“Good. That’s great.”

“We’re keeping under the radar, buddy. But this. This might turn into something ugly. And then what?”

Boone looked him right in the eye. “We prevail.”

IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON BY THE time Seth was finished with every room but the kitchen. Kate and Christie were still in there, but they weren’t working. They were cooking. And from what Boone could see, having a decent time of it.

He was sitting at the table, looking over some of the bugs Seth had discovered. The technology was so cutting edge it felt more like James Bond equipment than real things used by real people. But there were lots of folks out there whose sole purpose in life was to try and crawl into places they didn’t belong. He should know.

Seth sat down across from him. He looked tired, but healthy. Which was good. They all needed to stay in shape.

“What’s cooking?” he asked.

“Chicken and rice, with assorted vegetables,” Christie said. “And for dessert? Nothing. Not even a damn piece of pie.”

“Why not?” Seth asked.

“Blame your friend.”

Seth slugged Boone in the arm. “You still don’t get it about women and chocolate, do you, buddy?”

“Shut up. She’s in training.”

“Yeah, right.”

Boone laughed, and Seth did, too, and it was good to hear that. He watched as Seth got out his gadgets, knowing the full sweep in the kitchen wasn’t going to be made easier by the crowd, but that was okay, too. It was good to be a team, however makeshift.

“Whoa, what’s this?”

Boone looked at what Seth was worried about. His scanner was pinging, but Boone couldn’t tell where it was pointed. He had to look under the table. At Milo.

“Oh, shit,” he said.

Seth looked at him with a shake of his head, then leaned down and petted Milo on the neck. He paused, nodded once.

“RFID?”

“Yep.”

“How long has this bastard been tracking her?” Boone asked, although there was no way in hell he was ever going to have the answer.