Night Moves: A Shadow Force Novel (20 page)

Kell nodded. “I’ve been where you are.”

“That’s why you told me not to seek revenge. You knew what it feels like,” she said quietly.

“It can ruin your life if you let it.” His voice was grim. The dust blew up around the car wheels and she longed for the cover of night. “I don’t want that for you.”

She wanted to reach across the console for his hand, but she didn’t. They’d already shared intimacies, and yet she’d never felt shyer around him. Like nervous butterflies were in her stomach and the something that had broken inside of her so long ago was well on its way to being repaired.

A
few hours later, Kell pulled over into a used car lot. Teddie remained in the car and he came back half an hour later with new plates.

“We’ve got a new ride.”

“That was fast.”

“Cam already bought the car,” he explained.

“You guys have quite the network.”

“It’s good to have friends,” he told her, and she realized that it certainly was.

“Have you heard from Reid? Think he’s gotten across the border yet?”

“He texted—he’s back in Mexico.”

She collected her things and he grabbed his own bags and together they walked over to the new SUV, parked in the corner of the lot. She got inside as Kell fixed the license plates and then he leaned into the opened window, saying, “I’m going to grab us some sodas and food,” before heading across the street to the convenience store.

She familiarized herself with the truck, in case she’d be driving, and while doing so she turned on the radio to find out what was going on in the rest of the world.

A hurricane bearing down on Florida seemed to be the only thing the reporters were talking about. It sounded like it was going to be a really rough one—a Cat 3 that they thought would go down to a Cat 2 by the time it hit landfall.

It was supposed to hit within the next thirty hours. Evacuations were rampant.

She shivered. She hated storms like that—hated hearing about them, watching their aftermath on television. She turned the radio off and played with the GPS, wondering if it was some kind of sick joke that it was set to the very area of Florida that was expecting the hurricane.

Kell came back about ten minutes later with a stash of snacks and sandwiches and sodas. “We’ve got to keep stops to a minimum—we’re on a time limit.”

“So where are we going?”

“Florida.”

Her stomach tightened. He’d been the one to set the GPS. “Have you not heard about the hurricane?”

“Who’d ever think we’d be driving into it? The perfect cover.”

“Or suicide,” she muttered.

“We’ll be hard to chase or find. That’s what matters.”

She tried to keep her tone light when she said, “Did I mention I’m scared of bad storms?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have me,” Kell murmured, right before his phone rang.

That sentiment—and the knowledge that they were still a day away from their destination—allayed a bit of the impending panic. Besides, she couldn’t say anything else on the subject, because Kell was driving, phone to his ear, and he was doing a lot of listening, interjecting a few words every now and again; when he hung up, he put the radio on.

The music played and the miles passed at a good pace. She was far too keyed-up to sleep, and she let the soft breeze from the open window play on her face and in her hair as she downed sugary sodas.

If she thought really hard about the fact that she was a fugitive from justice, hanging out with a merc and driving into what promised to be at least a Cat 2 hurricane, she would instantly become a babbling mess.

But, for her father’s sake, she couldn’t. She needed to get to the bottom of things—and a little voice inside of her told her she could do it.

R
eid was in his element. The truck drove like a dream to begin with, and between OnStar and Sirius he was all set. During the six-hour drive, he caught up on the news, downloaded some new music and spoke with Zane, shooting the shit with the SEAL as he drove, getting lost on purpose for a while.

Because it was time to have some motherfucking fun, even if it killed him. And hell, it just might.

And then it was time to stop playing cat and mouse with the marshals and lose them for good. That was accomplished too easily and he cursed the fact that no one knew how to track anymore. Fucking economy was ruining training.

Still, today it worked in his favor and when he zoomed toward the border, he knew the plan had gone well.

Although he hated to ditch the truck, it had to be done. He managed to trade it for some fast cash just outside the border patrol, canceled the registration as he walked across the border on foot, getting through easily thanks to some creative passporting. Found himself a shitty motel room, and now he had a lot of work to do. First order of business was making contact with Chambers, then staying alive was running a really close second.

At least now they knew who was fucking with them, but that wouldn’t put a stop to it. Whether or not Crystal wanted to shut them down or simply kill them remained to be seen, but either way, Dylan had his work cut out for him.

Reid got his CO’s
Where the fuck are you?
text, and ignored it. But he couldn’t ignore Dylan’s call, which
came about twenty minutes later as he was headed to the restaurant where Teddie had originally met with Chambers.

“Ya.”

“You need to get out of there,” Dylan growled. “Decoy’s not a good look on you.”

“Safest for everyone,” Reid said, well aware of the potential sacrifice he was making on Kell’s behalf—and Dylan’s too.

“When does your leave end?”

“Six days.”

Dylan swore, but Reid didn’t bother to. He’d used up all his allotted curses for the century on Kell.

“I’ll get it done, D,” he promised. “You heard from him?”

“No.”

Shit
. “Any leads on Crystal?”

“Last seen in Mexico.”

“Good.” Let the fucker come for him.

“Jesus, Reid, just try to stay out of trouble,” Dylan said.

“You realize I came back here to create some, right?” Reid reminded him, and Dylan began to curse again, a fluent string that lasted at least two minutes. The familiar gesture was oddly comforting, as if nothing had changed, even though it felt like everything was about to. “I gotta go—got some female trouble on my tail.”

He hung up on Dylan’s curses, which was a shame, since he always managed to learn a few new ones from him—and in varied languages as well—and waited for the woman to catch up.

She’d been on his six for the last ten minutes and
he’d let it happen, because he wanted to know what the fuck she wanted.

Plus, she was hot.

He lost her around a corner to see if she was decent at tracking. And she was, because she caught up to him about five minutes later, while he waited against a wall outside an open bar, leaning there like he didn’t have a care in the world.

She sidled up to him, her bright blue eyes never leaving his own. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“I’m not interested in company tonight,” he said casually, hands in his pockets. “Besides, I never need to pay for it.”

For a brief second, she looked horribly offended and then she leaned next to him, pulled out her badge. “U.S. Marshals.”

“And you’re trying to make extra money?”

Fuck a damned duck—he’d thought he was done with marshals for the day. Well, well, this would make things interesting, because even though her badge was Texas and she had no jurisdiction here, the Mexican police would work with her unofficially. They backed each other up, since they were frequently after the same fugitives.

She was hot as hell, take-his-breath-away hot, and she was also the law, which was a big freakin’ bummer, since Reid typically didn’t like to date women in his own profession. Not that he actually dated—it was more like sleep around, don’t get attached, because that was way easier.

“You’re quite funny.”

“So I’ve been told.” He looked inside the bar, which
housed a few locals, who were already half in the bag, judging by the bad karaoke. “Up for a drink?”

“I thought you didn’t want company.”

“I said I didn’t need to pay for it.”

“Who says you won’t?” she asked, and he bowed a little to her, because nothing turned him on like a sharp woman. “What’s your name?”

“Reid.”

“Reid what?”

“Reid Cormier.”

“I’m U.S. Marshal Grier Vanderhall.”

“You like that marshal part a lot, don’t you?”

“I earned it.”

“True that.” He studied the badge she still held in her hand by taking her wrist and holding it up. “Not a bad picture either.”

He memorized the ID number for future reference, because while this was all chill right now, it was going to go badly very soon. He hoped she wouldn’t take him in for questioning tonight, since he still needed to find exactly where Chambers did his business and get in on it. He suspected all it would take was a little scratch thrown around.

“If it’s a no go for the drink, I think I’ll head in and have one by myself.” And slip out the back.

“I’d rather you not go anywhere just yet—I have some questions for you.”

R
eid was going to make this fun. And she meant fun in the most
un
fun sense of the word.

Grier wanted to strangle him, among other things. But she needed to tread lightly. Beyond an informant,
who’d been reliable until this point but gave her no indication of who he was or why he was involved in this, she had absolutely no proof that Reid had been anywhere near his friend Kell when Teddie was abducted.

“Why did you give my men the run-around earlier and then leave your truck at the border?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Reid said.

He’d led her marshals on a wild-goose chase for a good six hours. There was no record of him crossing the border and she still had guards there on the lookout for Kell and Teddie, although she suspected they weren’t heading this way at all. “Why did you leave your car at the border in Texas?”

“I’m aiming to live a simpler life. It’s a new Zen thing I’m trying out.”

This boy must’ve given his mama hell. “Cut the shit, Reid. I want to know where Teddie is.”

He frowned a little. Looked semi-adorable doing so. All-American, blond, blue-eyed, built like a football player, and his hands were big. Capable. “Not familiar with anyone by that name, ma’am.”

Ma’am
. Ouch. “Why are you lying?”

“You hurt my feelings.”

She caught the slight Louisiana drawl in his last statement. “If I catch you with her …”

“You’ll haul me in?” He opened his hands. “It’s not going to happen. But what did this Teddie do?”

“She’s in witness protection—you know that. You also know she’s wanted in conjunction with a shooting and a murder, although that’s possibly in
self-defense. And your friend kidnapped her. Or maybe it was all a show.”

He shrugged and let his gaze wander away from her like he honestly was bored with the entire conversation. “None of this is my problem, trust me.”

“I don’t. You’re lying to me, sugar.”

“I like it when you call me pet names,” he drawled, and my Lord, he sent shivers through her, and here she thought she was quite immune to charm in all its pretty packages.

But this man had the combo of being good-looking and highly trained. He could probably kill her with his pinky.

Yeah, there were those shivers again. “I’d like you better if you told the truth.”

“No, you just think you would. Trust me on that.”

He was probably right, but still. “I’m going to have to put a tail on you.”

“I won’t mind you on my six. ’Course, I’d rather be on yours, but no one ever said life was fair.”

“I know you’re military.”

He didn’t say anything but a small grin played on his lips, like he didn’t care if she had that information.

“Maybe if I contact the DoD and show your picture around, they’ll be interested in helping me.”

“Maybe. They’re pretty busy these days with the wars and all,” he pointed out, like he was being helpful.

“I’m too busy for more of your crap.”

“So take me in. Interrogate me.”

She pictured him all bound up, and if that happened,
she would not be talking. Well, no more than saying his name repeatedly and very loudly. “You could just share what you know.”

“Out of the goodness of my heart?”

“Yes.”

“My heart’s a wicked place, Grier.”

“I’ll bet,” she muttered.

She had no real evidence that warranted taking him in, beyond the fact that he knew Kell. She’d been monitoring his cell phone and no calls to Kell had come in or gone out, but all that meant was he was using a throwaway.

She could search the estate he’d supposedly been staying at again, of course. She’d already been through his financials, but all that seemed to be on the up and up. “Give me something, Reid.”

He looked her square in the eye. “I’d give up the ghost, Grier. Kell’s too good—you’ll never find him. But she’s safer with him than she’d ever be with you.”

“Because he’s former Delta?”

“Because he’s in love with her,” he said bluntly before pushing off the wall. “See you around, sweetheart.”