Читать книгу Double Agent - Lisa Phillips - Страница 13

THREE

Mistakes. That’s what it all boiled down to in Doug’s mind. His life could be summed up in a series of mistakes that never should have been made—the most recent of which stood in front of him now. He touched her elbow. It was slender, her skin smooth under his rough fingers callused from a war he had never wanted to reach her shore.

Her head reached his chin, and her hair reflected every shade from auburn to dark chocolate. The red dress flattered her figure in a way that wasn’t suggestive. She was pure class. The color looked warm against the almost Mediterranean-rich tan of her skin. Ben had been much lighter. Doug had wondered why the siblings hadn’t looked anything alike. On the day he had asked Ben, Doug had been given a back off look. He didn’t ask again.

Despite the feelings she evoked in him, Doug was on a mission, and emotions had no bearing. At least they weren’t supposed to. He’d have to chalk up his earlier outburst to being overcome with grief. After all, who knew the extent of her involvement in Christophe Parelli’s life, his business and his death? The quicker Doug got both of them out of here, the quicker he could find out how Sabine figured into Ben’s death. CIA or not, she’d be answering a whole lot of questions.

After that she would be free to walk out of his life. He thought of all those get-togethers when he’d had to force himself to be cordial while everything in him hummed just from being near her. The reality of how shallow his attraction to her was hit him like a needle that burst a balloon and deflated his sense of honor.

It seemed like his initial impression had been entirely wrong. Not about her being very good at what she did. He’d believed she was some high-powered financial type at the bank where she worked. Ben had told anyone who would listen that his sister was a big deal, traveling all over the world for her job.

Had Ben even known the truth?

She wasn’t the type of woman that Doug wanted to get to know. Even though just looking at her made his brain miss critical steps, Doug couldn’t let her affect him. She’d charmed her way close enough to Christophe Parelli to get his fingerprints, and Doug had no interest in a woman who used her looks to get what she wanted. Once this mission was over, they’d both get on with their lives.

“My plane leaves in three hours.” She lowered her slim wrist. The gold bracelet didn’t look like any watch he’d ever seen. The smallest bit of fear crept on her face, despite the stubborn set to her shoulders.

“You’ll be on it. Just as soon as we get to a safe place where you can answer some questions.”

A click in his earpiece signaled California had something to say. “You gonna bring her over here, MacArthur?”

Doug caught her eye. How would she react to being crowded by army operatives? She knew each of them, except Ben’s replacement. He’d seen her laugh and talk with the boys and their wives and girlfriends. Still, despite her status as a teammate’s sister, he doubted any of them would be kind now that there were questions over her involvement.

“We’ll be there in five, California.”

He hoped the crack in her armor, the one currently giving off waves of fear, was an indication that she’d share what she knew. Doug had no intention of interrogating her. Nor could he hurt her in any way.

Even if it hadn’t been Sabine, he wasn’t the kind of man who did that. It didn’t line up with what he’d been taught, his personal code of ethics or his faith. All in all, that was a lot of rules, but they were good rules. Honest standards he could live by and know he got things right.

Sabine Laduca was the antithesis of everything he stood for—a bolt of lightning. Would God create a woman for the sole purpose of throwing Doug off his game?

Well, he might be thrown, but there was no way she would bring him down.

If that tear she had tried to hide was anything to go by, he’d brought her grief back to the surface. There was no other choice. Doug was tempted to dial down his determination to find the truth. For the sake of this woman’s obvious pain, he could take some extra time to soothe her into sharing.

But he wasn’t going to.

Could she really be involved? Who even knew what the CIA was up to? In spite of his personal distaste, he had to push her. He couldn’t afford to suddenly go soft. Sabine knew something. Until he found out what, she was going to have to deal with the discomfort. They were together. And she was right. They really shouldn’t stay in this room any longer. Parelli’s guys could show up again any second.

“You good to go?”

Sabine grabbed her roll-on suitcase again. But this time when she straightened, her face was a blank mask.

He sighed. “Right. Let’s move.”

He took the suitcase from her. She didn’t like it, given the look on her face. Too bad. No man worth his salt made a woman pull her own suitcase when he was perfectly capable.

Doug scanned the hall both ways, gave a short nod and led her out, taking her hand to make sure she stayed with him. He paid no mind to the shimmer of warmth when he touched her slender fingers. He just hadn’t held a woman’s hand in a long time.

He pressed the button for the elevator. To anyone observing, they were simply a couple on their way down to check out. They could easily be on their honeymoon for all anyone else knew—except for the lack of wedding rings.

And didn’t that just prick his heart in a way he wasn’t ready to consider? Maybe, after he retired from the army, he could have that kind of relationship with a woman. Whoever she was, the woman he married would understand his driven nature because her heart beat to the same pattern. Family. Loyalty. Trust. Honesty. Those were the lifeblood of any relationship.

It was too bad he could never trust the woman beside him. His dream was just that—a dream. Until then he’d have to rely on God to take care of the future. The years of training that made him the man he was today would cover the here and now.

Six foot four, 250 pounds of muscle, Doug was a weapon honed by the United States Army into one of their best soldiers—a fact that had nothing to do with who his father was. Doug had sent home all the daddy’s boy naysayers with their tails between their legs. Sure, Doug could have gone the West Point route and earned butter bars, but the gold bars of a lieutenant’s rank would have put him behind a desk commanding missions. Not on the ground in the thick of it.

His dad had known exactly how hard Doug would have to work to push himself beyond his limits and earn the position of team leader. The general might have made Doug earn every patch the hard way, but it’d been worth it to feel the achievement of having done it. They understood that about each other, at least.

When the doors opened on the lobby, Doug tensed. Through the crowd of people milling around, he spotted his teammate assigned to the lobby—Franklin. Despite being in his late thirties, Franklin had the air of a middle-aged banker about him that allowed him to blend in anywhere.

Doug shifted his grip on Sabine’s hand, and they strode to the front counter where she checked out of the hotel.

After signing A. Surleski on the receipt, she looked at him. “It’s past lunch. I’m going to need something to eat pretty soon.”

Doug looked her up and down. “You seem like a woman way too concerned about her appearance to be worried about something as pesky as eating.”

Her eyes narrowed. “They do say that looks can be deceiving.”

He doubted that. He knew her type. The expensive clothes said enough, but the way she held herself spoke much louder. He had a nagging feeling this woman was going to prove to be high maintenance when it served her purpose.

“In this case, I can read you loud and clear.” He folded his arms across his chest. “But since I’m hungry, too, I guess we can rustle up something.” He shot a look at the receptionist. The guy was busy typing into his computer. “After we join the others in our party and finish up our business, of course.”

Her dangly gold earrings shook back and forth with the motion of her head. “There’s a restaurant next door, remember? We can pick something up there.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. I’m telling you—”

He stopped listening. The two guys who had chased them down the hall stepped off the elevator. “Time to go.”

Doug strode to the side door, careful not to rush and draw anyone’s attention. Dragged along by his grip, Sabine let out a yelp. He rolled his eyes and looked back. She made a valiant effort to keep up with his long strides. This had better be about her ankle. She’d better not be being difficult just because she wanted to go it alone.

The air outside was like stepping into a sauna. Doug quickened his pace, and heard a stir of noise and movement behind them. He cut right, pulled Sabine along the sidewalk and watched for a place to cross.

“They’re coming.” Her voice was a hiss. “They’re right behind us.”

He glanced back, and, sure enough, the men had exited the hotel and spotted them. With a shout, the suits started to run.

“Go. Now,” Doug ordered.

A battered sedan pulled in front of them. Doug swerved, skirted the front bumper and glanced back. Franklin was nowhere to be seen, and the men were gaining on them.

“We’re not going to make it,” Sabine answered, but he was too focused on moving and on the voice in his earpiece to respond.

“Ten feet to your left. Yellow cab.”

They climbed in before the driver even stopped.

“Drive.” Doug threw a wad of cash onto the front seat, and the driver hit the gas pedal. “Airport.”

The radio in his ear clicked. “Copy that. Party’s over, friends. MacArthur, we’ll see you back at the house.”

With that, the team was dispersed to make their own way back to the U.S., where they would rendezvous on base for debrief.

Beside him in the cab, Sabine pulled her hand from his grip and rubbed her wrist. Doug ignored his heavy heart, even as it added to the measure of weight he already carried. What would Sabine say when she found out what he’d done? A woman like her would probably slap him across the face. He deserved it for his part in her brother’s death.

He glanced out the back window. The two suited guys stood in the middle of the road outside the hotel. The bigger man formed his fingers into an imaginary gun, which he raised and fired at them.

Sabine flinched.

“We got away,” Doug whispered, trying to reassure her. “They won’t catch up to us again. I’ll make sure of it.”

She looked at him. “Because you’re so good, you’re certain? Wow, you’re arrogant.”

Doug shrugged, deliberately nonchalant. He needed answers from her. Needed her to talk and not retreat again. “It’s true. I’m good at what I do. Once I have what I want, I’ll be out of your life for good.”

Sabine shifted away from him and kept her voice at a low whisper, too. “Don’t make this out to be my fault.”

“I stop at nothing to get a job done. It’s very important you understand that. And to be doubly sure that we’re clear? This is the most important thing I’ve ever done.”

“It’s my brother you’re talking about.”

He dipped his chin and leaned toward her. “Then we’re on the same team. Only you want to walk away because your mission went wrong. Well, I don’t give up that easily. I want the truth about what happened to Ben.”

Sabine’s eyes went wide. “I’m not giving you the hard drive.”

“You think I care about salvaging your reputation? I couldn’t care less about you saving face with your superiors or whoever it is you lone-wolf types report to.”

“You just said we’re on the same team.”

He rolled his eyes again, this time to mask the fact he was impressed with the way she had twisted the conversation around and used his own words against him. “Does that mean you’re going to help me find out who killed Ben and why?”

She stared at him for a good minute. “I’ll help you.”

He looked out the front window. The old man driving the cab alternately looked at the road and glanced back at them, probably straining to hear what they were saying.

“When we’re back in the States, I’ll tell you whatever I know.”

Doug had a valid passport that was part of his government-issue cover identity and a credit card, so he could easily get a ticket on the same flight as Sabine. The problem was, he was suddenly in no hurry to rush back to the lengthy questioning sure to follow. And Sabine was hungry. If he fed her, maybe she would let him in now.

Doug tapped the driver on the shoulder. “We need food. Find us somewhere to eat.”

The driver, who looked like the sun had baked him on high for too long, jerked his head up and down. “I take you to my mama’s café. Best meal of your life.”

“Good.” Doug glanced at Sabine, who really shouldn’t look that surprised. He was a nice guy. He handed the driver more money. “Make it fast.”

Ten minutes later they pulled up outside a bleached building with a sign that read Mama’s Café. After some discussion and more money, Sabine convinced the driver they needed to take her bag inside with them.

The ceiling fans did nothing to cut through the cloud of heat. The seats were faded vinyl, the tabletops were cracked and the air was saturated with the combined scents of breakfast and salsa. Doug’s mouth watered and his stomach rumbled.

Sabine swept past him, pulling her suitcase, and glanced back over her shoulder. “Order me a burrito. Extra hot sauce.” She disappeared into the women’s bathroom.

An older woman with wrinkles, a faded polyester uniform and two missing teeth took his order. Doug slumped into the chair. Rested his forearms on the worn table. Toyed with the salt shaker. All the while he watched the door to the restroom.

He was just about to go searching when Sabine emerged. At least, he thought it was her. The woman who exited the bathroom dragging Sabine’s suitcase looked completely different. She’d switched her dress for a white tank top adorned with two long necklaces and jeans tucked inside knee-high white leather boots. Big gold circular earrings hung down, and her hair had been swept up, wrapped in what looked suspiciously like a silk blouse he’d seen her pack in her suitcase.

She settled herself opposite him, pulled up the suitcase and put it on the seat beside her. Her whole demeanor was much more relaxed.

“Nice disguise.”

She smirked. “Maybe the six-hundred-dollar dress was the disguise.”

She frowned at him, and he noticed the gold watch bracelet was gone.

“It’s a shame you don’t have any other clothes with you,” Sabine said.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

She grinned. “No offense, but you sort of stick out. Even though that outfit screams ‘average-joe tourist.’”

He opened his mouth to object and realized she was probably right. He couldn’t answer anyway because the waitress chose that moment to place their food in front of them.

“You could take off the hat,” Sabine suggested.

He rubbed his shaved head and tugged the ball cap back on. “The hat stays.”

“You don’t have enough hair to have a bad hair day.”

She picked up her silverware and cut a massive bite of burrito. His eyes widened as she shoved it in and chewed with gusto, then swiped up the bottle of hot sauce and shook a few drops onto her next forkful.

She realized he was staring and straightened. “What?”

He picked up his silverware. “Enjoy your food, don’t you?”

“What’s it to you?”

Doug shrugged. “It’s just...refreshing is all. Women who look like you don’t usually eat like, uh...that.”

“I’ll suffer working it off tomorrow, don’t you worry. But it’ll be worth the miles. Take a bite and see for yourself. It’s really good.”

Doug took a bite. She was right, though it was almost too spicy for him. He ate fast, one eye on the time. It would be simplest if they arrived at the airport with enough time for him to get a ticket on the same plane.

“So what’s the real reason you don’t want to take off your hat?”

He hesitated, unsure how to say it without dredging up a whole bunch of grief neither of them could handle. “It’s—”

Sabine’s knife stilled and sadness washed over her face. “That’s Ben’s hat.”

Doug nodded.

“He gave it to you?”

“Wanted me to have it.”

Sabine swallowed. “And here I only got the joy of cleaning out his musty, cluttered bedroom.” She drew in a long breath, and he saw the quiver in her lower lip. “Not that I’ve done it yet. I mean, really, you’d think a grown man would be able to keep his room tidy. Especially someone in the military.”

“You’d think that, what with all the spot inspections during basic training. Some guys pick up a tendency for order and bring it home with them. Others see their private living space as somewhere else to blow off steam.”

“So what are you? A neat freak? Or does your place look like a tornado the way Ben’s always did?”

“Does it matter?”

Sabine pulled away, any rapport they might have had now shut down by his tone. Doug had no intention of moving into personal territory with this woman. No matter how much he wanted to.

It was for the best.

He stood. “I’m going to make a pit stop, and then we should get going.”

The bathroom looked about as good as it smelled. Doug held his breath and took care of business as fast as possible. What would his superiors say when he turned up with Sabine in tow? CIA operatives and the army didn’t exactly mix. Talk about a clash of cultures.

He pushed open the door and glanced around the restaurant. His stomach sank. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He rushed out the front door. The cab was gone, too.

She’d ditched him.