Razor's Edge (8 page)

Roxanne cleared her throat and wiped sweat from her forehead. “I found some letters, but I don't know if that's all of them. I'm going to keep digging.”

A shadow fell across the wide doorway as someone approached.

Roxanne assumed it was an employee checking to make sure their visit was legitimate. She wiped her dusty hands on her shorts and went to meet him.

The sky had darkened while they searched, and outside, several security lights had turned on, but they weren't as bright as the light overhead. As the man came closer, shadows moved up his body until he stood in the light spilling out from the storage unit.

As soon as his face was illuminated, Roxanne could see that it was the same man who had been following her yesterday—the man she'd photographed.

A hot wave of panic slid down her body, pinning her in place. Her heart kicked hard, thudding against her ribs. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tanner turn just as she regained her senses.

“Who are you?” she asked. “What do you want?”

“The rose and her stolen secrets.”

Roxanne had no clue what he was speaking about, but his eyes were wild and bloodshot, and he was quivering from head to toe. Her first instinct was that he was high.

And he was standing between her and the gun she kept in her car.

Tanner vaulted over a box and stepped in front of her, and while she was all for equality between the genders, she knew he had a much better chance of intimidating their intruder than she did. Assuming the man had enough sense to
be
intimidated. He sure as hell didn't seem to be playing with a full deck.

“What are you doing here?” asked Tanner.

She saw the large pocketknife sitting on a box where she'd left it and inched closer to it.

The skinny man lifted his arm and revealed both needle tracks, and a gun he had hidden behind his leg. The barrel pointed right at her. “She stole from us.”

Fear shot through her, making time stretch out. Colors became clearer, the light was brighter, and she swore she could smell the sour stench of vomit coming from the stranger.

“I did n—”

“Let's talk about this.” Tanner cut her off, his voice calm. He raised his hands and took a step to his left, putting himself in the line of fire. “Nothing she has is worth her life. We can work this out. Tell me what she stole.”

Roxanne had to clamp her lips shut to keep from proclaiming that she hadn't stolen anything. Instead of spouting her innocence, she reached over and scooped up the knife, slow and easy. The metal was cold in her hand, and her skin seemed to shrink back from touching it, but it was the best shot they had.

Using Tanner's big body for concealment, she opened the knife, locking the five-inch blade in place. Her hand shook around the metal, and she gritted her teeth in an effort to control the involuntary reaction.

“Secrets,” said the man. “She stole secrets.”

Roxanne kept her voice calm and stepped out most of the way from behind Tanner. She kept her right hand hidden behind his back, holding the knife steady. “I think there's some kind of mistake here. I guard secrets. I help track down people who steal them. I don't steal them myself.”

The man's brow scrunched up as if he were in pain. He pressed the side of his fist against his forehead and went deathly pale. His thin body trembled. The gun wavered and drooped.

“Lies. The rose lies. She told me you would.”

“Who?” asked Tanner. “Who told you that?” He took a step forward, and she could see his muscles bunch as they coiled to spring an attack.

With the gun in the way, that was a dangerous move, and if anyone was going to be risking their life, it should be Roxanne. She'd somehow gotten them into this mess. She didn't know how, but that didn't change the fact that the drugged lunatic was after her, not Tanner.

Tanner's weight shifted. She put her hand on his shoulder, letting him feel the metal of the knife, praying he'd understand her signal to hold off.

He moved to the right, slow and steady. Roxanne went left, holding the knife behind her back to hide it the best she could.

The man's head jerked up, and his eyes went wide. They glazed over in fury and he snarled at her, jerking the gun toward her again. “Stop right there. Tell me where the secrets are. I don't want to hurt the rose, but I will.”

She believed him—at least the part about his being willing to hurt her. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Lies!” he shouted, making spittle fly out from his mouth. Rage burned in his eyes and shook through his body.

“Easy,” said Tanner, pulling the man's attention away from her.

The stranger turned and saw how close Tanner had come. Panic widened his eyes, and she watched his finger shift at the trigger. The tendons in his hand tightened.

He was going to shoot Tanner.

Roxanne whipped the knife out and flung it toward the man's chest, hoping her aim was decent enough to at least nick him.

The knife struck. The gun went off. Tanner dove to the side, crashing into the boxes.

Fear choked Roxanne, keeping her scream of denial inside. She lunged toward the shooter, to keep him from firing again.

She plowed into him, knocking him down. He lifted the gun to fire it at her at point-blank range.

A split second later, she saw Tanner's big cowboy boot swing through her field of vision, and the gun went flying. It clattered as it skidded across the concrete.

The stranger screamed in outrage and grabbed her by the throat, cutting off her air.

She shoved her arms between his, pushing her body up with her legs at the same time to break his grip. Tanner kicked again. This time his blow landed against the man's head. His grip went slack, and Roxanne scrambled back away from him like a crab, panting.

“Are you hurt?” asked Tanner as he flipped the man over and shoved a knee into his spine.

“I'm okay,” she grated out, her voice hoarse. “You?”

“Fine. Find something to tie him up.” His words were sharp, and she could hear his anger lurking just below the surface.

She found the box she'd seen earlier with Jake's clothes in it, and grabbed one of his ties. She watched Tanner secure him as she dialed 911. By the time she told the dispatcher what had happened, the stranger was starting to regain consciousness.

Tanner rolled him over, sitting on his legs to keep him pinned. Blood wet the stranger's shirt where she'd hit him with the knife, but the wound wasn't bad.

Roxanne leaned over him. “Who are you?” she demanded. The man bared his teeth and thrashed against Tanner's hold. A dog tag slid out from his shirt.

She leaned down and picked it up. S-11-17 was stamped into the metal, but there was no name.

“We'll get our secrets back,” he snarled. “We'll get our secrets, and the rose will be covered in blood, shivering with pain.”

“He's out of his mind,” said Tanner. “I hear sirens. Can you go meet the cops at the gate and guide them in?”

“Are you going to hurt him?” she asked.

Tanner didn't look at her, but she could hear regret radiating in his voice. “He's already broken. There's nothing more I can do to him.”

 

 

Tanner waited until he was sure Razor was out of earshot before he leaned close, getting in the stranger's face. “Who were you with, soldier?” he asked. “Army? Marines?”

The man's eyes widened fractionally, giving away what Tanner had suspected after seeing the tags. He was a veteran—one that had been fucked up.

“We'll get you help, man. You can get through this.”

Fear flickered across the man's face for a second before his expression hardened. “I already have help. We'll get our secrets back.”

Chances were the man was delusional. His arms were covered in needle tracks, and he'd fallen a long way from the proud soldier he'd likely once been. But there was a certainty in his eyes, an absolute conviction that he was right. “We who?”

“The general—” His words cut off on a strangled cry of pain. His back arched up off the pavement, and tendons stood out in his neck.

“Easy,” said Tanner. “No one's going to hurt you. We're going to get you the help you need.”

It was the least he could do for a fellow soldier. Having been on the brink of breaking once himself right after his dad's and Brody's deaths, when the grief was killing him, he knew how tempting it could be to fall over the edge and let go. And while Tanner's own struggle was getting easier, there wasn't a day that went by that the grief didn't pound at him, that he didn't feel guilty for his decisions, and that he didn't think about where he'd have been now if he'd given in to the temptation to ease his suffering through artificial means.

The man passed out, going limp. Tanner flipped him over and put pressure on his wound to slow the bleeding, making sure he was still pinned in case he woke. He knew the lengths a man would go to in order to escape, and with a few screws loose, this man might do something Tanner couldn't predict.

A police cruiser showed up with another one right on its heels. Roxanne got out and pointed to where the gun lay. The officer kept Roxanne in sight, angling her away from the weapon as he moved toward Tanner.

“Is he alive?” asked the cop.

“Yeah, but he's going to need an ambulance,” said Tanner.

The man spoke into the radio at his shoulder while two more officers approached. Tanner kept pressure on the wound.

The next two hours crawled by as Tanner and Roxanne gave their statements and the soldier was taken away via ambulance. Tanner was kept separate from Roxanne, but his eyes tracked her as she moved, keeping constant tabs on her location.

She could have been killed tonight. He barely knew her, but he still felt responsible. Even if Bella hadn't assigned him babysitting duty—which he'd first thought was a waste of time—he still would have felt protective toward her. They were coworkers now, and that meant something to him.

Maybe he hadn't been out of the army long enough yet to act like a civilian, but there wasn't much he could do about that. Her life had been threatened, and, until they had the crazy soldier locked up in a nice, safe, padded room, Tanner wasn't leaving her side.

 

 

Roxanne was exhausted and starving by the time she pulled into her garage. It was after midnight, and her whole body was buzzing with the aftereffects of adrenaline.

Jake's letters and the mystery box were in her backseat, and all she wanted was for Tanner to leave so she could open it and reassure herself that the crazy ramblings of her attacker were just that.

Roxanne tried not to think about Jake's strange missive. It had to be some kind of prank he was playing—something they'd both laugh about when he came home for a visit.

She wasn't laughing now. She was too keyed up, too off balance, and all she wanted was some time alone to process everything.

“Thanks for your help today,” she told Tanner. “You saved my life. I owe you.”

“Let's hope that's one favor you never have to repay.”

He got out of the car and stood there, expectantly.

She left the garage door open for Tanner to leave. “I'll meet you tomorrow at the office. Is nine good for you?”

He crossed his thick arms over his chest and gave her a disbelieving stare. “If you think I'm going to leave you after what happened tonight, you're as crazy as your attacker.”

“You can't stay here.”

“The hell I can't. I'll sleep propped against your front door if I have to, but there's no way in hell I'm leaving you alone.”

“I'm armed. I'll be fine. Besides, he was crazy. All that stuff about my stealing something was garbage.”

“And the note from your boyfriend, Jake? Was that garbage, too?”

“He's not my boyfriend, and Jake is probably just playing some kind of joke on me.”

“Is he the kind of asshole that scares women for fun?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Then I don't see how this could be funny to anyone.” He rubbed his hand over his short hair and pulled in a deep breath as if trying to control his frustration. “Listen, until we find out what's going on, I think it would be safer if you had company. I promise not to try anything skeezy.”

For some reason, hearing him say that amused her. “Skeezy?”

“You know, coming on to you, trying to accidentally see you naked in the shower—that kind of thing.”

“It sounds like you've put a lot of thought into exactly what you're not going to do.”

Tanner grinned. “Sue me for having a healthy imagination. But I can be a good boy. I swear.”

Roxanne was too tired to argue. He was probably as hungry as she was, and he had been a huge help today even before he saved her life. “Fine.”

His grin widened to a triumphant smile that made Roxanne's stomach do a slow, lazy roll. “Let me grab my bag from my car and I'll be right in.”

“Are you telling me that you already packed a bag before coming here?”

Tanner shrugged. “Bella said to be ready for a few days of nonstop duty, so I am.”

“Bella and I are going to have a talk when she's back in town. Not even my boss gets to dictate who spends the night at my house.”

“She cares about you. And she probably figured that if you really didn't want me around, you could handle getting rid of me.”

After seeing the speed and power with which he moved earlier tonight, she wasn't so sure. While she could generally handle herself in most situations, she knew better than to overestimate her combat abilities. She was good compared to an average person, but Tanner was way above average.