Chasing Shadows (16 page)

"Lucky's been blown," Rose said bluntly as Marion took her seat beside Hollywood.  "We don't know if he's dead or alive."

"And Chase?" Hollywood asked. 

"He thinks he's all right.  The meet is set for noon today."

"What can we do?" Marion asked.

"I'm not sure if there is much we can do for Lucky.  But I'd like to get as much back up for Chase as possible."

"Just one problem," Billy put in from his seat at the computer.  "Someone from the FBI is working a case and somehow, we're not sure how, Chase's younger brother, Jay, is involved.  His cell phone is FBI issued and being monitored."

"Was being monitored," Rose put in.  "We had Teresa block it until we know what's going on.  Wouldn't want the wrong people to hear the wrong thing.  With Lucky gone, Chase is our only chance to nail Deacon and stop The Crusade.  Not to mention Gianotti and a boat-load of weapons.  I can't let some white collar RICO case get in the way."

"I'll bet that's where I come in," Marion said as she moved to take Billy's place at the computer terminal.  Billy stood behind her, looking down over her shoulder as she began to access the FBI database.

"What do you want me to do, boss?" Hollywood asked.

"Get working on satellite imagery from anything that may have passed over that area of Pennsylvania during the time Lucky went missing.  Teresa is already downloading the pictures, you can start analyzing them.  EZ is on his way in to help as well."

"What about traffic cameras and the like?" 

Rose rolled her eyes.  "Afraid modern law enforcement technology has yet to make its way to Coalton, PA."   

"This is weird," Marion said, her fingers pausing their typing.  "The investigation that phone was assigned to ended months ago.  And there was never any activity near Coalton."  She spun in her chair to face Rose.  "The agent of record was murdered when his cover was blown."

Rose exchanged glances with Billy.  

He pursed his lips in a frown.  "So we either have an under the table investigation going on—" 

"Or it's not the FBI who have been monitoring Jay Westin," Rose finished.  She pushed off from the wall and began to pace the room.  "We know The Crusade has been able to access confidential files of government agents.  Every time security thinks they have the problem solved, The Crusade finds a new way in."

"Chase wasn't in those files," Billy said, looking to Hollywood for confirmation.

"That's right," the former Navy man said.  "When we realized it was going to be a long term operation, we kept everything out of the record.  As far as everyone but maybe half a dozen people know, Chase's arrest and court-martial were legit."

"Maybe Deacon or someone else in The Crusade suspected him anyway," Rose continued.  "Deacon is infamous for his paranoia.  His hackers must have found a new way into the system."

"Welcome to the computer age," Billy put in.

Rose shot him a glare.  Things were a lot simpler without technology—and safer, as Lucky and the other compromised agents could attest to.  

"Just because it's new doesn't mean it's better," she retorted.  "Anyway, it would be easy for Deacon to find Jay Westin.  Maybe he slipped him the phone as a way of monitoring Chase, keeping tabs on Jay in case something threatened the deal and he needed to coerce Chase's cooperation."

"Then who's this girlfriend Chase said gave Jay the phone?" Marion asked.  "Does she work for The Crusade?"

"I wish I knew."  

CHAPTER 22

Chase checked on Jay while he waited for KC to follow him into the house.  That expression on her face—shock and surprise and fear all mixed together as if he'd sucker-punched her—that hurt.  Almost as bad as when Jay gave him a similar look earlier tonight.

Crap, it was only three am and this was turning into one of the longest nights of his life.  A memory of smoke and fire, his head ringing, pain lancing through his body as his men cried out engulfed him.  

No, not the longest night, he corrected himself as a whiff of KC's musky scent and the velvet touch of her lips replaced the memories of pain and terror.  And most definitely not the worst.

Jay was asleep in the Barcalounger, one hand cradling his cell phone close to his chest.  Chase couldn't help but smile.  Exchange the TV remote for the phone and add the
Sands of Iwo Jima
flickering in the background and it could have been Hank Westin sleeping there instead of his youngest son.  

Chase ran his fingers through the kid's hair, something Jay would have never allowed him to do if he were awake.  He couldn't resist the urge to touch him—it reminded him of why he did what he did, of the importance of protecting the future for kids like Jay.

The carport door opened.  KC came in, eyes blazing, chains jangling on her jacket.

"Kid's asleep," Chase said before she could say anything.

"Wake him up, we're leaving.  Now."  

Chase merely shook his head.  "Kid gets sleeping that deep, you could fire a M-16 in here and it wouldn't wake him.  Let's talk in the kitchen."  

He walked past her, half expecting her to draw a weapon and make a stand, glad when she didn't.  She cursed softly under her breath, then followed him.

"Jay told me everything," he said, leaning against the avocado green counter.  

He pulled his feet back as she paced the small space, glaring at him.  A lioness protecting her young.

"I should've let Gianotti's thugs beat the crap out of you," she muttered. 

"Looks to me like you'd rather do it yourself," he said with a smile, nodding at her fisted hands.  She pulled up short, took a deep breath, and spun around to face him.

"All right, Westin.  What do you want?  You gonna turn me in to Gianotti or your friends at The Crusade?"

So, she'd figured that much out.  He knew she was smart.  Maybe too smart for his own good.  "I want Jay safe.  I just haven't decided the best way to get that."

"Your brother's an intelligent man, he's already made up his mind."

"My brother's a kid half in love with you," he shot back.

"Think you can do a better job of protecting him than I can?"  Her voice softened, and her gaze dropped to his lips.  "Listen, Westin," she said, moving closer to him.  "Why don't you help yourself and Jay?  Gianotti's going down, you don't have to go with him.  Help me out here, give me Dinkum and The Crusade, I'll get you a deal."

She was close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body.  One deep breath and he was drowning in her scent, unable to think.  His fingers stretched out, desperate to touch her, to pull her close.  He felt his mouth go dry but managed to keep control, ignoring the colorful tattooed lizard jeering at him with every breath she took.  Fisting his hands, Chase slid sideways, putting a safe distance between them.  

"Don't kid a kidder, KC."  

She shrugged, leaned against the counter he'd just vacated.  "Can't blame a girl for trying."

"You're no girl, and we both know it.  You can have Jay, but only if you don't arrest Bruno until after the meet today."

"No deal.  I'm taking Gianotti and Dinkum down.  If you want, I can arrange for you not to be there."

"How?" he challenged her.  

Her chin jutted up, her gaze locking on his.  God, those eyes.  Deep, dark and beckoning to him like a siren's call.  A man could drown in there, never coming up for air—and never regretting it.

"Do what I should have in the beginning.  Have you picked up on a weapons charge.  You are a convicted felon."

"Nice try, but I'm clean."  He smiled, lifted his shirt, revealing the absence of the HK.  One good thing had come from the visit from Bruno's goons, the nine millimeter was on the floor of the carport. 

Her scowl deepened.  He itched to reach across the distance separating them, to smooth the wrinkles away from her brow with a caress.  It took everything he had to stifle the urge.  Instead, he hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, hanging on as if the denim was a lifeline, a tether of sanity providing a way out of this mess.  He wanted so much: to see Jay safe, to stop Deacon, to lock up Bruno, to rescue Lucky, to finish this mission.  But suddenly it was hard to remember all that, suddenly he wanted even more: time.

Time alone with KC, to explore, to learn, just…to be.

For so long he'd concentrated solely on the mission facing him here and now, but suddenly he wanted a chance at an unknown tomorrow.  The thought rocketed through him, leaving behind a gaping hole of black, searing heartache.  Not the same pain as when he'd lost his parents or his men, but close, so close that he couldn't look at KC.  Instead, he forced himself to focus on the feel of the counter edge digging into his spine, the rasp of Jay's snores, the odor of Pine-sol…details of a normal life, of a life he would never have. 

"Why is it so important to you that the meet go through?"  KC's voice was soft, as if she might even give a shit about his answer, but the question slapped him back to reality.  He was a man on a mission; he could only afford to worry about the next minute, the next hour.  Anything beyond that was a luxury forbidden him.

"Because it's my ass on the line if it doesn't.  I'm the middleman.  Anything goes wrong for either party and—"

"And you're the fall guy."  She looked at him appraisingly as if she hadn't expected him to be so highly placed in the criminal hierarchy.  Her eyes narrowed, cold-hearted steel replacing the warmth that had been there earlier.  "You're thinking you can pocket your money, then make a deal with us so you walk after ratting out your partners."

Pacing again, she moved out of range before he could succumb to any insane impulses.  Like reaching for those chains dangling from her jacket and yanking her close to him.

She pivoted, gave him a small nod.  "Okay, I can live with that—but I can't take any chance that those weapons make it into the wrong hands.  We'll put tracking devices in some of them, wire you for the meet."

Chase shook his head.  He needed to get those weapons into Deacon's hands, learn what The Crusade planned to do with them.  Besides, if Lucky was still alive and anything went wrong at the meet, they would kill him for sure.  "Won't work.  They'll spot them."

"Give me a break, Westin, my people are professionals."  She stepped forward, her face tilted up to meet his eyes with an earnest look.  "Trust me."  

God, he wanted to, was desperate to trust someone, to share the burden he'd been carrying for so long.  He let out his breath.  "I wish I could, KC.  But there's too much at stake here." 

"I can't help you then."  He swore he heard regret in her voice.

Chase knew he should just let things drop, send her on her way and get on with taking care of business.  He knew that.  But he couldn't let her go so easily.  

He needed to see if the feelings she stirred in him, that sense of rightness, of belonging, had only been part of her undercover role.  Now that she no longer had anything to hide from him, how would she react?

He settled his hands onto her shoulders, turned her around to face him, pulled her close to him.  A look of uncertainty clouded her face for a brief moment, then she stepped into his embrace, raised her face up to meet his.  He tangled his fingers in her hair and slowly lowered his lips onto hers.

Their kiss was a long, deep sharing that awakened something buried inside of Chase, feelings he'd never experienced before, was at a loss to describe.  More quiet than the animal passion they shared earlier, this was a soothing calmness, as if KC had pulled him down into a warm, safe place outside of time where he could forget all his worries, forget everything except the woman in his arms.

His eyes locked onto hers.  Her pupils widened, their black depths reflecting his own face.  The face of a stranger—he recognized the scars, the familiar wrinkles etched into his skin over the past year.  But the expression was foreign.  He was lightheaded, realized he'd forgotten to breathe as he slid his hands down her body, lifting her onto the counter top.  His hands roamed over the exposed flesh of her back and abdomen, not caring what he touched, only knowing that he needed to feel her, that somehow she was his anchor, his touchstone.

She laughed when he found a sensitive area and the noise, musical, throaty, was the most sensuous sound he'd ever heard.  He tried a different spot at the small of her back and was rewarded with another taste of her laughter.  She grabbed his hands in hers.

"This is a bad idea," she said, looking down at their intertwined hands.  He closed his fingers around hers, they threatened to swallow hers whole.

"A very bad idea."  He leaned forward to taste her again, sliding his mouth down the side of her neck, pausing at her pulse point, feeling a thrill as her heartbeat raced beneath his touch.

"Westin."  

Why couldn't she call him Chase?  He liked it when she called him Chase.  

"I can't do this."  The tone in her voice brought him to his senses.  

"You're worried about Jay." 

"This is so very wrong on so many levels, but yeah, Jay tops the list."  She looked down, sighed.  "This never happens to me.  My operations don't get so—"

"Complicated?" he supplied.

"That's a polite way of putting it.  Damn it, Westin, your timing really stinks."  Her gaze moved past him out to where Jay slept.  "I never meant for Jay to get so involved.  We never did anything—the kiss you saw was the first."

"First time I've ever been jealous of my little brother," he admitted.  "Also the first time I found myself lusting after a teeny bopper."  He enjoyed seeing her flush at that.  "So what did you and Jay do during your, uh, dates?  'Cause Old Man Sinderson says—"

"Sinderson repeats what Neil tells him, and Neil tells him what Jay tells him."  She was silent for a moment, her eyes still aimed toward the living room, a small smile playing across her face.  "We watched movies.  I now can boast that I've seen the entire John Wayne collection—most of his war movies twice."

Chase chuckled.  "My father was a huge fan, indoctrinated both Jay and I."