Читать книгу Safety Breach - Delores Fossen, Delores Fossen - Страница 11

Gemma clutched her hands into fists to try and stop herself from shaking. It didn’t help, but maybe it made it less noticeable to Kellan who kept glancing at her while he carried on his phone conversations.

She hated feeling like this—with the nerves and fear all tangled in her stomach. But what she hated even more was that Eric and his hired gun had gotten away. She had no doubts, none, that they’d be back.

And this time, they might actually kill them.

“You need to put some distance between us,” she told Kellan.

It wasn’t the first time she’d said it, either. She’d repeated variations their entire time at the Austin Police Department. However, Kellan was doing the opposite of distancing himself, because he and Owen were taking her to Longview Ridge. Something she’d been opposed to the moment Kellan had told the Austin cops what he had planned for her.

Gemma agreed with him about her needing protective custody while the Justice Department figured out how her WITSEC identity had been breached, but going “home” had enormous risks. Still, here they were on the interstate, heading to the very place Eric would expect them to go.

Owen was behind the wheel of the unmarked cruiser, and Kellan was next to her on the back seat. Both were keeping watch while they got updates on the investigation. There was also an Austin patrol car with two cops behind them just in case things turned ugly. Eric likely wouldn’t be able to set explosives along this route, but he could perhaps cause a car accident.

“Eric will keep coming after me,” Gemma repeated when Kellan finished his latest call.

Just saying that caused the sound of the blast to echo through her head. And she could feel the effects of it, too, since the debris flying off the explosion had given Kellan and her plenty of nicks and cuts. None serious, but they stung, giving her a fresh memory of how close they’d come to dying.

Everything she owned was gone, of course. Not that she’d had anything of value. The place had felt, well, sterile. A lot like her life had for the past year. The only real loss of her personal things was her purse and phone. Now she had no cash or credit cards—which meant she had to rely on Kellan to help her. At least for a little while. But once the marshals were cleared of having any part in the WITSEC leak, Gemma needed to call Amanda to see about arranging a safe place she could go.

If there was such a place, that is.

Since Kellan didn’t even react to her reminder about Eric not stopping, she gave him another one. “You could get caught in crossfire, or worse, the way you did at my house.”

That got a reaction. He gave her a look that could have frozen El Paso in August, and he tapped the badge he had clipped to his belt.

“That badge didn’t save your father,” she snapped, but she instantly regretted the mini outburst. There were enough bad memories floating around them without her adding that one. “I’m sorry.”

He was back in no-reaction mode and turned his lawman’s gaze to keep watch out the window. Gemma watched, too. Not out the window but at Kellan.

Mercy, that face. It still got to her. Still tugged and pulled at her in all the wrong places. Sculptured with so many angles and tinted with just a hint of amber from his long-ago Comanche bloodline. Those bloodlines had blessed him with that thick black hair that he’d probably never had to comb. It just fell into a rumpled mane that he hid beneath his cowboy hat.

There was nothing rumpled about his body. It was toned from the endless work he put in on his family’s ranch and the rodeo competitions he still did. Once, she’d seen him take down an angry bull that he’d roped. All those muscles—both the bull’s and Kellan’s—locked in a fierce battle. Dust flying. Hooves and feet digging and chopping into the ground. The snorts from the bull, the grunts of exertion from Kellan.

Kellan had won.

He had literally taken the bull by the horns, brought it down and then calmly walked away. Gemma thought that was the way he handled lots of things in his life. Not women, of course. He did take what he wanted from them. But never forced or even coerced. He took simply because it was offered to him.

Gemma knew plenty about that because once she’d offered herself to him. And he’d taken.

He glanced at her again, maybe sensing that she was playing with memory lane, and she got a flash of those incredible eyes. That had been the first thing she’d ever noticed about him. Sizzling blue or stormy gray, depending on his mood. Right now, his mood was dark and so were his eyes, but she’d seen them heat up not from anger but from the need that came with arousal.

Arousal that she had caused.

It hadn’t been one-sided back when they’d been eighteen, and she’d willingly surrendered her virginity to him on the seat of his pickup truck. She had no idea who’d been on the receiving end of his virginity, but she’d been thankful for whomever had given him enough practice to make that night incredible for her. One that had become her benchmark. She was still looking for someone who could live up to him.

His eyebrow came up, and for one humming moment, they stared at each other until his mouth tightened. It was as if he’d gotten ESP issued with that badge, and he was giving her a silent warning to knock off the sex thoughts. He was right, too, as he usually was. But it had been much easier to slip into those memories than the things she needed to face.

Things she needed to piece together.

Like why Eric had waited a year to come after her? But that could be as Kellan had suggested—because it had taken him that long to find her. However, there were the other things that Eric had said.

You need to take a second look at the details of your father’s case. The devil is in those details. That’s what this warning is all about.

“Do you believe you could have missed something in your father’s murder investigation?” she asked, knowing it could earn her another of those frosty glares.

It didn’t though. Instead, Kellan took a deep breath. “Maybe.”

There was doubt, but that could have nothing to do with the way Kellan had handled the case. It could be the guilt over not being able to save his father.

“Eric’s never said anything like that before,” she went on.

Kellan shifted his position, their gazes colliding. “You’ve had other contact with him over the past year?”

“No.” And she was thankful she hadn’t, either. Not just because she hadn’t wanted to deal with Eric, but also because she was betting Kellan would have been riled to the core if her answer had been yes. He would have wanted to know why he hadn’t been told everything that pertained to Eric since he was looking for the killer.

“Eric left messages for me when I was still in the hospital, remember?” she continued. Gemma hadn’t actually spoken to him since she’d been first in surgery and then recovering from her injuries. But the hospital staff had recorded the calls and turned them over to Kellan.

“Yeah, I remember.” The muscles in his jaw went tight again. “He threatened you.”

She nodded, hoping that he didn’t repeat the actual words. Gemma didn’t need to hear them again to recall that Eric had been enraged that she’d lived and could therefore testify that he’d been the one to shoot her.

Except she couldn’t.

Gemma had some memories of that horrible night, but because of the storm and the darkness, she hadn’t seen much. About the only thing she could say for sure was that Eric had taken Caroline and her from Gemma’s house in Longview Ridge, and that later there’d been a gunfight.

“I’ll take another look at the investigation,” Kellan assured her, though it wasn’t necessary for him to say that. From the moment she’d heard Eric toss that out there, she’d known that Kellan would dig back into the files despite the fact that he likely knew every single detail in them.

“The Austin cops weren’t able to trace the call Eric made to you, and there’s been no sign of the shooter,” Owen relayed to them when he got off the phone.

Neither piece of information was a surprise. Eric had no doubt used a burner or disposable phone. And as for the shooter, the guy hadn’t been in the house when Austin PD had searched it. The home owners hadn’t been there when the shooter had broken in, so they hadn’t seen him, either.

Now the hope was that there was some kind of trace evidence or prints that the CSIs could use to ID him. Gemma doubted though that he’d been that careless, and if the shooter had slipped up, then Eric would just kill him rather than allow him to be captured and interrogated. Heck, the man could already be dead. Eric didn’t like leaving loose ends. It was the whole reason he was so angry with her. So, why had he issued just a warning and not finished her off? Maybe he wanted to torment her first. An easy kill might not be as much fun for him.

“What about my neighbors?” Gemma asked. “Were any of them hurt?”

Owen shook his head and made eye contact with his brother in the rearview mirror. “Were you able to get any details on the bomb?”

“They haven’t been able to find the detonator and until they do, they won’t be able to start figuring out who built it. Eric doesn’t have bomb-making experience. Or at least he didn’t a year ago, so he likely hired someone or spent some research time on the internet.”

Gemma had heard Kellan talking with the bomb squad, but she’d only heard his end of the conversation. Which hadn’t been much. Obviously, Kellan hadn’t liked that there hadn’t been much progress in the investigation. Then again, it’d only happened six hours ago, and the CSIs were still processing the scene.

Kellan’s phone rang again, something it’d been doing throughout the drive, and he mumbled some profanity when he saw the name on the screen. For a heart-stopping moment, Gemma thought it might be Eric, but then she saw her handler’s name on the screen. Amanda had already called once when they’d still been at the police station, and Kellan had let it go to voice mail, but he answered it now, and he put it on Speaker.

“Have you figured out who leaked Gemma’s location?” he greeted.

“No, but it wasn’t me,” Amanda answered without hesitation. However, she did sound as frustrated and annoyed as Kellan. “Where’s Gemma?” she snapped.

“She’s safe.” Kellan looked at her and put his index finger to his mouth in a stay-quiet gesture. “I need you to find the source of the leak and prove to me that you fixed it. Then I’ll give you Gemma’s location.”

“That’s not the way this works, cowboy,” Amanda argued. “I’m the one in charge here, not you.”

Gemma winced because she could feel Kellan bristling from the marshal’s cowboy label and sharp tone. Amanda had never been a warm and fuzzy kind of person, and she was even less so right now.

“Gemma’s in WITSEC,” Amanda went on, “and that puts this under the jurisdiction of the marshals.”

“Only if the marshals can protect her, and you’ve just proven that you can’t.” Kellan huffed. “Eric killed another woman last night and left a note for Gemma with her address. He’s coming after her, and I’d rather make sure that no one wearing a badge is feeding Eric info to help him do that.”

That silenced Amanda for a couple of seconds. “Is this about Rory?” Amanda came out and asked.

It was a question Gemma had expected. Rory was Marshal Rory Clawson, and Kellan’s then fellow deputy, Dusty Walters, had been investigating the marshal for the murder of a prostitute whose body had been found in Longview Ridge. Dusty hadn’t been able to find any evidence other than hearsay before Eric had gunned him down.

“Why would it be about Rory?” Kellan challenged.

“Because I figure you’re holding a grudge against Rory because you weren’t able to pin bogus charges on him. You still haven’t been able to pin those charges on him,” Amanda emphasized. “Or maybe you’ve got a wild notion that he aided Eric in some way.”

Kellan didn’t waste any time firing back. “Did he?”

Amanda made a dismissive sound. “This isn’t over. You will turn Gemma over to me,” the marshal added before she ended the call.

It sounded like a threat, and Gemma was certain they’d be hearing from her again soon. Maybe though, Amanda wouldn’t try to put her in a new WITSEC location until they had some answers about this latest attack.

“Do you trust her?” Kellan asked when he put his phone away.

Gemma opened her mouth to answer yes, but she stopped. The truth was, she didn’t know Amanda that well at all. They’d only met twice in the months that Amanda had been her handler.

“I don’t have any reason not to trust her,” Gemma settled for saying.

“Other than someone compromised your location, a location that only a handful of people knew, and Amanda was one of them.” Kellan paused, and then he huffed even louder than he had when he’d been talking to Amanda. “I just don’t want to make another mistake.”

Gemma could have said those same words to him. If she’d just lived up to her reputation of being a top-notch profiler, she could have stopped him.

“I owe you,” Kellan added a moment later.

That got her attention, and Gemma turned in the seat to face him. “You owe me?” she repeated.

Again, that was something she could have said to him. She’d been the one to mess up, not Kellan. But before she could press him on that, his phone rang again, and this time it wasn’t Amanda. It was Unknown Caller on the screen.

“Eric,” she whispered on a rise of breath.

Owen must have thought it was him, too. “I’ll try to trace it while he’s on the line.” Owen quickly handed his brother a small recorder, and Kellan clicked it on before he hit the answer button.

“So, I guess you’re both still alive and kicking?” Eric asked the moment he was on the line. “If Gemma had died, my little bird would have told me.”

“And who exactly is that little bird?” Kellan snapped.

“Someone in a very good seat for birds.” Eric chuckled.

Maybe a marshal or a cop. But Gemma tried not to react to that because this could be just another of Eric’s taunts. The word was probably already out that she’d survived, and he could have heard about it through any means from gossip to even a news report. Then again, maybe he knew she wasn’t dead because he’d had no intentions of killing—yet. Not until he’d made her suffer.

“Sorry, but I need to keep my bird’s name to myself for now,” Eric added a moment later. “Might need him...or her again.”

Kellan’s eyes narrowed. Obviously, he also hated these games that Eric loved to play. “I’m guessing you blew up Gemma’s house just in case there was any evidence left behind. That tells me you were actually in it.”

“I was,” Eric admitted, causing her skin to crawl. “It was fun to see how she’s living her life these days. So much security! You could practically feel the worry when you stepped into the house.”

Three bullets could do that, and it twisted away at her that just by hearing his voice, he could pull that old fear from her.

“I left that little microphone so I could talk to you,” Eric admitted.

“You mean so you could try to make us believe you were still inside,” Kellan snapped. “But you weren’t. No way would you have risked getting blown up, because you’re a coward.”

“Sticks and stones,” Eric joked, but there was just enough edge to his voice that made Gemma wonder if Kellan had hit a nerve.

At one time Eric had wanted to be an FBI agent. Or so he’d led her to believe. And maybe that was true. If so, that coward insult would have stung.

“Too bad you didn’t blow up her neighbor’s house where you had your hired thug shoot at us,” Kellan went on. “It wasn’t very smart of him to leave a spent shell casing behind. Sometimes there are fingerprints on those.”

It was a bluff. If the CSIs had indeed found something like that, they would have mentioned it in the calls Kellan had made to them. Still, it got a reaction from Eric.

Silence.

She doubted this would send Eric into a rage or panic, but maybe it would rattle his cage enough for him to make a mistake.

“If there really is a casing,” Eric said, his words clipped, “then I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Oh, there’s a casing all right,” Kellan assured him, “and if we use it to ID the shooter, then there’ll be a trail to you.”

“No, there won’t be. But good luck wasting your time with that.”

“It might not be a waste of time,” Gemma reminded him. And it earned her a glare from Kellan. But she finished what she intended to say, and she made sure her voice was as steeled up as she could manage. “You believe you covered your tracks, but maybe you didn’t. You’re not perfect. You were in a panic the night Caroline and I found out what you were, and you took us hostage, remember? That wasn’t the well thought out actions of a cocky killer.”

Eric paused for a long time. “I remember,” he snapped. “And I’m sure you do, too. All that research we did together on Geo-Trace, and you didn’t have a clue.”

She hadn’t. She, Eric and Caroline had worked for two years on Geo-Trace, the name of their project for profiling and predicting specific areas of cities where violent crimes were most likely to occur. It could have helped law enforcement if Eric hadn’t been manipulating the data. He’d done that by murdering his victims in those predicted areas.

“Why did you do it? Why did you kill all those people?” Gemma asked Eric, earning her another glare from Kellan.

Yes, those were questions that could wait, and Eric likely wouldn’t even give her an honest answer, but maybe by keeping him on the line, Owen would be able to trace the call.

“That’s a conversation for another time,” Eric snarled.

“Not really. My guess is that you were in love with me and wanted to impress me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. I never loved you. It was never about you.”

There’d never been any hints that Eric had indeed had any romantic interest in her, but it twisted away at her to think that Eric could have done those monstrous crimes because of feelings that she hadn’t picked up on. That was yet another layer of guilt she could add to her life.

“Sheriff Slater, are you going to let Gemma do all the talking?” Eric pressed. “I wouldn’t if I were you. After all, if it wasn’t for Gemma, your daddy and that deputy would still be alive.”

“If it weren’t for you, they’d be alive,” Kellan corrected.

“Oh, but you’re wrong about that,” Eric quickly answered.

Kellan cursed. “Quit playing mind games and tell me what the hell it is you want.”

“Always did enjoy your direct approach. So, here’s the deal. Now that I’m back on my feet, I’m looking for Caroline. And you should be, too.”

“I have been looking for her,” Kellan assured him. “Plenty of people have been. Did you kill her?”

“No. Last I saw her, she was very much alive.”

Gemma found herself gripping on to the seat, but she shook her head. Eric could be lying, though she wanted that to be true. She had enough blood by association on her hands.

“I’ve killed a dozen or so people,” Eric went on, “but Caroline isn’t one of them. Neither was your father or the deputy. Dusty Walters. As much as I’d like to take credit for their deaths, I can’t.”

Gemma nearly laughed, and it wouldn’t have been because that was funny but because it was ridiculous.

Wasn’t it?

“What the hell are you talking about?” Kellan snarled. “I saw you shoot Gemma, and the bullets that killed my dad came from the same gun.”

“Because I found it on the floor inside the house. I picked it up and used it. I didn’t, however, use it on Deputy Walters. You know that because he was shot with a different weapon.”

“You had two guns on you,” Gemma murmured. At least that had been the most logical theory. For now, she scoffed, “So, you’re saying you’re innocent?” Gemma didn’t bother to take the sarcasm out of that.

But still, something inside her turned a little.

“No, I shot you, all right,” Eric admitted, and he sounded so pleased about that. “Wish I’d put the bullets in your head, but that’s what do-overs are for. You can have your own do-over, too, Kellan. But here’s my advice—find Caroline because she’s the one who can tell you who really killed Deputy Walters and your father.”