Cold Pursuit (Cold Justice) (Volume 2) (22 page)

Shit
. “I hope to hell you’re right, but it’s a little unlikely, don’t you think?” His tone told the other guy to convince him.

“These guys wouldn’t have gone to the effort of taking the bodies with them. They’d have tap-tapped and gone.”

They’d been so close to doing that that nausea gripped his stomach. “Jesus Christ.” He used the imagery to his advantage—his own form of dissociation. “I hope they’re alive.”

“One of the attackers is missing his weapon. We found 9-mm casings, but ballistics couldn’t match them to a gun on the premises.”

Jed had bagged the weapon Vivi had taken for evidence and put it on a high shelf in the cupboard so Michael didn’t have access. “If there was a fourth attacker he could have picked up the weapon.”

“Maybe… Why are you so convinced they’re dead, anyway?” asked Killion.

“Look. As far as we can tell these people are a Muslim terrorist group and she’s a beautiful woman. Even if they didn’t kill her they might have taken her to…” Sell her. Rape her. Behead her on You-tube, and play it for the world to see. Fuck. Sweat broke out over his brow. All of that could have happened. It could
still
happen if he didn’t play this properly. “And if she’s alive why the hell hasn’t she come forward?” He was getting loud and obnoxious.

“After the way the safe house got attacked? I’d definitely go it alone without the so-called help of the government.”

Jed grunted. This guy was a master manipulator, no doubt. He wasn’t falling for it. “What did you get out of the interrogations?”

“Apart from the fact Abdullah is a stone-cold killer?”

“I could have told you that when I pried his fingers from around an eight-year-old’s throat.”

“Yeah, well, I showed this guy some pictures of how his comrades ended up and there wasn’t an iota of emotion.”

“Blame the vestal virgins.”

“Who’d want to spend eternity with a virgin anyway? I mean seriously, give me an experienced—”

“Killion,” Jed snapped. The guy was going off topic big time.

“Right. Two things of interest came up aside from the fact the guy is a sociopathic creep. First, Abdullah is still officially a member of the Syrian Republican Guard.”

That wasn’t good for world peace.

“But he could be working for the rebels and stirring up trouble for the government forces. There are many rival factions fighting there from al-Qaeda, the Free Syrian Army, even Hezbollah for the regime. It’s hard to get any solid information on who is linked to whom. Politics and religion are mixed up and Iran has a hand in most of it. It’s also possible the Syria connection is a decoy. So many groups in the Middle East want America to eat shit and die. The Arab Spring is turning into a fucking nightmare for our interests abroad. Let’s face it, democracy is only great as long as they do what the US wants.”

Fighting for democracy and freedom was one of the most important things he’d done in the Army, but in some societies it wasn’t stable or sustainable, and in others it turned around and bit you on the ass. Still, free and fair elections should be a human right. “What’s the second thing?”

“Ah. This is kind of cool, actually. MI6 contacted us with a hit on one of our dead safe house attackers in their database. So I’ve got one of Her Majesty’s finest wending his way across the pond with a bunch of files they refused to email. Not sure what to make of that except perhaps we caught a break or they have someone on the inside somewhere. He gets in tomorrow morning.”

So the cell had a connection to the UK. Not unusual. Terrorists tended to scatter like roaches and had pockets all over the world. But it meant they were probably getting training and funding from somewhere. Jed wanted the backer.

“Any internet chatter about another attack being imminent?”

Killion exhaled audibly. “Nothing. According to our analysts they aren’t communicating via chat rooms or email or cell phones.”

“They’re either evolving in sophistication or the plan was in effect from the start.”

Killion was silent for a few long beats. “Are you really taking a vacation in the middle of an investigation this huge?”

“I sure am. Look I have two choices. Burn out and destroy what has been up until now a promising career. Or just stop and take a breath. I’m choosing the latter.”

Killion grunted. The guy probably hadn’t taken a break since joining the Agency.

Jed forced himself to talk about Vivi and Michael. “Look, if the Vincents turn up…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll call if I hear anything. Hey, maybe I’ll join you for a vacation when this is all over.”

A thought flashed inside Jed’s head. Shit. Had he completely misread the situation? He cleared his throat. “You know I’m straight, right? I mean it’s OK if you’re not, but I—”

“What the…are you serious?” The guy started laughing. “Don’t flatter yourself, Brennan. I don’t mind playing with my own dick, but I’m not touching yours.”

“Thank fuck for that.” Jed was glad he wasn’t totally losing his ability to read people.

“I like ’em young, pretty, and female. Less brainpower the better.” Killion sounded tired. Not just from staying up too long, but from something more. Intelligence officers burned out even faster than FBI agents.

Jed kept it light. Don’t get drawn in. “The less brainpower they have, the more chance you have of getting laid, right?”

“Hey, don’t get nasty.” Killion laughed again. “You can relax, I’m not after your body though I’ll happily fuck with your mind.” The hint of self-loathing in his tone brought Jed up short again. He opened his mouth to ask if the other man was all right, although he knew he was probably being played. Killion cut him off before he got the chance. “OK, I killed some time, amused myself. Now I’m off to take another stab at Abdu-madfucker. We’re trying to confuse his body clock and speed up any confessions. The guy is lost without his Rolex.”

“My heart bleeds.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think he’s falling for it. OK. Later.”

Jed grunted and hung up and tried to remember what he knew about terrorists. State terrorism differed from religious terrorism. Assigning motive to this attack was probably the best way of figuring out what the next one might be.

The public had trouble understanding how seemingly normal people could kill innocent civilians in the name of their cause. Psychiatric research suggested a phenomena called doubling, first observed amongst the Nazis. They often started off with a desire to fix something that they saw as broken, but after a certain amount of indoctrination, they became two people—their former seemingly benign self, and a morally disengaged killer capable of horrific acts of murder.

State sponsored terrorism was a different beast, with horns and claws and tentacles.

Ironically, doubling was encouraged in certain professions—hell, most law enforcement personnel were masters. How else did they confront evil and death on an almost-daily basis and then go home to the family?

But how could an internal conflict in Syria be related to a terrorist attack on the Minneapolis Mall? He pressed his fingers into his temples to try and relieve the pressure. He knew nothing about Syria, but figured it was time to get educated. He started surfing and pulled up Brown Moses.

An hour later, he was about to fall asleep when headlights swept through the thickening veil of the snow. He pulled his weapon and headed to the door. A police car flashed its lights and then sat idling out front. Jed pulled on his boots and headed into the night to one of the few people he trusted to have his back, no questions asked.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

V
ivi awoke, disorientated and groggy, heart pounding from a nightmare. Glaring digits on the alarm clock told her it was only two a.m. Damn. Her throat was dry. She inched out of bed and went downstairs to make herself a drink.

She put a glass of milk to heat in the microwave and then noticed the fire was dying so went to put on another log.

When she turned she realized the room wasn’t empty. Jed Brennan lay sprawled on the couch. His shirt was creased, unbuttoned at the neck, sleeves rolled to just below the elbows. His tie was tossed on the floor next to his suit jacket.

His arm was stretched over his head. Long legs stuck over the other end of the sofa, too tall to fit comfortably. His mouth was slightly open and the guy looked absolutely dead to the world. This was probably the first time he’d slept since the attack, and as much as she’d like to stand and stare at his handsome face, she really should give him some space.

She couldn’t believe she’d kissed him earlier. Foolish wasn’t a good feeling.

She shivered. It was cold in here. The microwave dinged but Jed didn’t stir. Determined not to wake him, she took an afghan off the chair. She held it aloft and then draped it slowly over his body. The action reminded her of doing the same thing for her son. He didn’t stir. A pen was grasped in one hand. She knelt, leaning close so as to try and remove it before he got ink on his shirt or the couch. She eased it out of his grasp, but found herself staring into the dark depths of his eyes and froze.

Wow. She blinked. This wasn’t like tucking in Michael at all.

He smelled all male, warm and rumpled. The race of her heart got faster and faster. A tingle of electricity shooting from the tips of her breasts to the apex of her thighs, reminding her what sex had felt like.

Back away.

His eyes searched her face, obviously trying to wake up and catch his bearings. His gaze lingered on her lips and the look in his eyes turned molten for a brief moment.

She swallowed nervously. She couldn’t afford to do anything stupid like kiss him again. She could only take so much rejection.

“Hi.” The sound of her voice snapped him out of his stupor.

He groaned. “Sorry, for a moment I was back in some Army tent in Bagram.” His voice was rough with sleep.

“Was it bad?” she asked.

“Hell no, I was dreaming one of my greatest fantasies was about to come true.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said softly.

“Yeah, but it’s all the information you’re getting right now.” He flashed her a grin, taking away the sting.

She edged away, reluctant to go back to bed when she was so wide awake and yet not wanting to disturb him. “I’m sorry I woke you. You must be exhausted.”

He nodded, still lying down, but blinking hard as if that would help. “I was. Am.” He shook his head and then sat up in a fluid motion.

“Has there been any break in the case?”

He shook his head.

She shoved down her disappointment. “I’ll just check on Michael before I go back to bed.”

“You’re a great mom, you know.”

She snorted. “I’m obsessive.” They both kept their voices to a murmur.

“Give yourself a break. Being a single parent is tough.” His eyes held a kindness and a patience that calmed her raging fear of being overwhelmed by this entire situation.

She was doing the best she could under difficult circumstances, but delegating was tough. Trusting anyone else with her son’s welfare was extremely tough.

“You remind me of my own mother.”

“Neurotic?” She tried to make a joke but failed. He saw her weakness and insecurity.

“Fierce—like a lioness.” In the light of the fire his face was all harsh hollows and shadows.

“How did it feel to have a fierce mother?” It worried her that Michael would one day resent her for caring so much.

“I could never get anything past the woman, still can’t, but…” he paused, thinking. “I have never doubted her love for me. Michael will never doubt yours for him either.”

Her heart gave a tumble. Her throat squeezed closed. He had no idea how much that meant to her. Or maybe he did. Maybe he knew how desperately she needed something positive to cling to. “Thank you.”

She checked Michael, who was fast asleep. Then she took her milk and walked up the stairs, even though she’d rather have sat with Jed.

“Goodnight,” she called out quietly.

The problem with Jed wasn’t that she didn’t like him. He’d saved Michael twice and frankly she’d never be able to thank him for that. But she also liked everything about him. And after the emotional agony she’d been through with her ex, that made her uneasy. As soon as this thing was over he’d be gone, and she had too much to lose by letting her guard down. She hadn’t just been burned by her ex. She’d been incinerated.

The risk wasn’t worth the heartbreak.

***

Vivi stood on the deck the next morning, well-rested and wide awake as she looked out at the lake that steamed slightly in the startlingly bright light of dawn. Everything was so dazzling it hurt the eyes. She was wrapped up, wearing a pair of new jeans which were a little stiff and loose at the waist, a thick, cream, cable sweater, good wool socks, winter boots and a down vest. Jed had thought of everything, even buying her lingerie and a nightshirt to sleep in. It felt weird dressing in clothes someone else had picked out for her, like stepping into a part in a play. But without his help she didn’t know where she’d be. Struggling, that was for damned sure. Scared, that was a given. Dead was a high probability.

The fact she’d kissed him—twice now—the fact she’d dreamed about doing more than kissing him after she’d gone back to bed last night and had woken feeling dissatisfied and empty made her hyper-aware of every facet of him.

That kiss had most definitely been a mistake, but probably not for the reasons Jed thought.

It had reawakened inside her the need to feel again. To be a woman again. She had nailed the mother thing but somehow in doing so she’d lost the part of herself that made her so essentially female. The desire for sex, the desire to feel desired, had lain dormant since well before her husband left her. David had started acting differently not long after Michael was born, resentful, harsh with his judgment and his censure. In response she’d put up emotional barriers and much of the physicality of their relationship had disappeared right along with it. When relationships went south, sex was often the first thing to go.