RunningScaredBN (8 page)

He couldn’t say when he’d started looking at Riley as more than his partner. Their first meeting had been singularly unimpressive. If he’d been asked to describe her, he would have said brown and brown—brown hair, brown eyes. That was before he knew she wore a variety of colored contact lenses. She had delicate features and a small frame. Her facial expressions often alternated between blank and joyless.
 

She’d had little to contribute to the meeting, but when she did speak, it was in a halting manner, as if she had to force each word from her mouth. But then something had changed. She had shifted her gaze to his, and something had clicked between them. It hadn’t been a physical thing—more mental. Whatever it was, it had stuck. From that day on, they’d developed an odd sort of communication. Words weren’t necessary. He didn’t believe in psychic connections, but hell if he could explain what their bond was. It defied description.
 

The more he worked with her, the more he admired her. No, she wasn’t a great conversationalist, but she had the soul of a warrior and the heart of a lioness. He had watched her risk her life unflinchingly and with more courage than most people displayed in a lifetime. He thought maybe it was her courage that made him finally look at her. Beyond the solemn expression and dogged determination were a steeliness and firm resolve that came from within.
 

When had that admiration turned into something more? He wasn’t sure. Maybe the attraction had always been there. She was beautiful, but in a quiet way. There was nothing flamboyant about Riley Ingram. But her dark brown hair was thick, lustrous, falling over her shoulders like expensive silk. She had creamy skin, and when she blushed, her cheeks took on a delicate pink. It always lifted his heart when she did that.
 

Riley didn’t smile a lot, and he figured her life experiences hadn’t given her much reason. Her eyes might be his favorite feature, because even though her smiles were rare, her eyes would often sparkle with humor. It didn’t happen a lot, but whenever he saw the gleam, something tightened in his chest.

 
No, he couldn’t say when his feelings had changed to something tender. He knew only that he wanted to chase away her shadows, see her smile with delight or laugh with joy. He wanted to hold her in his arms, kiss that unsmiling mouth, and make her moan for him.

She gave a soft sigh, and Justin glanced over at her. Riley had stopped walking. Raising her arms over her head, she stretched what he knew were aching muscles. The punch of attraction caused an immediate and unstoppable reaction in his body. Grinding his teeth together, Justin kept moving. Yeah, hard as hell, but what choice did he have?
 

The afternoon sun glinted off an object, and he jerked to a halt. “See that?”
 

Riley followed the direction of Justin’s gaze. “What? No, I—” She broke off and then said, “Yeah.” Grabbing her field binoculars, she peered at the area of the glint. “It’s a cabin. Kind of small, though.”

He pulled out his map, checked it again. “Yeah.” Using his own binoculars, Justin took in the surrounding area. “Looks deserted.”

“If this is his place and she’s in there, there’d be guards.”

“Probably. But it’s out of the way and off the trail. Maybe they think they’re safe.” Justin made another sweeping glance with his binoculars. “Let’s go, see what we see. If it’s not his place, at least we’ll have a roof over our heads for the night.”

They exchanged a look that went far beyond agreeing on the plan. Both knew that if this was Russo’s hideaway and something went wrong, either one or both of them could die. But this was a way of life for them. They’d chosen this career, and they accepted the risks.
 

Silent now, they had no need to communicate verbally. They knew each other’s steps and what the other was thinking. Justin knew Riley would go to her left, to the back of the cabin. He would go to the right, to the front. If they couldn’t see each other but needed to communicate, they would do so with a series of clicks on their radios. They’d devised this on their own, and it had worked so well, other LCR teams had employed the same method.
 

With cat-like quietness, Justin stayed low as he approached the front, on alert for any kind of trap. Even though they saw no one, that didn’t mean squat. If this was Russo’s hideout, then there could be any number of snares set to capture an intruder. Mateo Russo hadn’t escaped the authorities for so long by being careless.

The ground was covered in new grass, with no indication that human feet had traversed the area in months. That could be a ruse, too.

Easing up onto the porch, Justin moved quickly to stand beside the door. Oddly enough, there were no front windows, but the door had a small glass pane. His gun at the ready in case bullets started flying, he leaned over and peered inside. The room was sparsely furnished, minimalistic but still comfortable looking. A sofa and an oversized chair faced a fireplace. On the other side of the large room was a small table with two chairs, and behind that a minute kitchen with a two-burner stove and a small fridge. In front of the oversized back window was a large but scarred desk and a surprisingly expensive-looking chair. Whoever the place belonged to hadn’t skimped on this particular piece of furniture.

The place looked as though it hadn’t been inhabited for months. A fine film of dust covered the kitchen table, and an intricate spider web stretched from the ceiling light fixture to a bookcase in the corner.
 

Unless Russo had gone out of his way to use spiders and dust motes to make the hideout look uninhabited, the cabin wasn’t his.

A double click on his radio was Riley’s all-clear signal. Justin answered back with one click.

Still cautious, he went back down the steps and met Riley on the side of the cabin. “Looks like we’ve got a place to stay for the night.”

She gave him a solemn look, and he saw the questions in her eyes, along with the trepidation. They’d been alone with each other many times before, but this new awareness of each other put things on a different level.
 

Justin wanted to assure her that he wouldn’t push, but at the same time, he wanted her to feel like she could tell him anything. Did she think he would judge her? Think less of her?

Was there a way he could make her realize that there wasn’t anything she could tell him that would make a damn bit of difference in his feelings for her? Didn’t she know he was already lost?

***

Her nerves on edge, Riley sat in front of the fire Justin had built and struggled with herself. For the next few hours, they had nothing but time on their hands. Using the excuse of sleeping would work for only a few hours. Pretending he wasn’t there wasn’t an option. Though the cabin was well equipped, it wasn’t overly large. There was no way to avoid him.

Getting inside had been no problem for Justin. The lock had been flimsy enough for a child to pick, much less a man with her partner’s skills. After exploring the place, Justin had checked in with headquarters and reported their location and their plans for the night. Noah had advised that Angela and Jake had checked in and had come up empty also, but he was still waiting to hear from Sabrina and Aidan.

After talking with Noah, they’d begun their setup for the night. Justin found a stack of wood beneath a tarp and soon had a roaring fire going. Riley rummaged around trying to create something edible with the MREs they’d brought with them. Such a domestic scene made her nervous. Domesticity was not her strong suit. For whatever reason, her training had not included cooking. She tried to not think too hard on the reason for that. Whenever she did, nightmares ultimately followed. Having Justin close-by when gripped by one of them was something she needed to avoid at all costs.
 

After consuming a nutritious but bland meal of beef stew and slightly stale bread, they cleaned up any mess they’d made and then settled before the fire. They were silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Maybe it was her own over-imaginative mind, but Riley thought the room held an air of expectation. How did you start out sharing a nightmare? Especially one that made no real sense?

She was saved from having to make that decision when their radio crackled with static, and Noah’s tense voice exploded in the room. “Target has been located. Thorne and Fox found the site. We’ll keep communications open.”

Meaning everyone would be able to listen in on the rescue.

“By the way, Ingram and Kelly,” Noah said, “the cabin you found belongs to a writer. Deidre contacted him, gave him a few details. He said you’re welcome to use it for as long as you need.”

“Good to know,” Riley said.

Aidan Thorne’s voice came through, low and tense. “We’re about to go, McCall.”

“Stay safe, you two,” Noah answered.

Riley pushed her personal worries aside as they waited to hear the rescue. Listening to one was so different than being in the midst of it. She held her breath, waiting to hear a
go
signal. After that, all she and Justin could do was wait and listen—and pray—as the rescue of Taylor Vaughn went down.

Chapter Seven

Western Italy

“I don’t like it. They’re too relaxed.” Aidan’s voice was a low rumble, as he spoke into his mic to his partner.

“They’re in a remote area. Think they’re hidden well. I’d say they’re not worried about being found.”

“Maybe so, but could be an act.”

Sabrina made a tsking sound and sighed. “So distrustful of bad guys, Thorne. Where’d that come from?”

“Guess I’ve known too many of ’em.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

“Want to do more recon?”

“No. Nothing’s changed in the last hour. That guy on the back porch is snoring loud enough to wake the bears. We’d better do this before somebody comes out and gives him the heave-ho.”

Glad they were on the same page as usual, Aidan went left, Sabrina to the right. The structure was too large to be called a cabin. Nestled within a forest of evergreens, it rose an impressive two stories. Aidan figured Russo probably stayed here on occasion. What he’d give to find the jerkwad here tonight. He gave a mental headshake.
Not your mission, Thorne.
Rescuing Taylor Vaughn was the only thing they needed to concentrate on. He told himself the same thing that had been sustaining him for years.
The bad guys always get what’s coming to them, and some got it sooner than others.
He refused to allow himself to believe anything different. If he gave up looking for justice, then he’d lose. Damned if he would lose this fight.

“Thorne, you copy?” Sabrina’s soft voice came through his earbud, jerking him out of his dark thoughts.

“Copy, Fox. What do you see?”

“Two males in the kitchen, playing cards. I can take them by surprise. They’ve got their guns holstered, so shouldn’t have any issues.”

“Roger that. The guy on the porch is still sleeping. I’ll help him sleep a little longer.”

“Let’s get this done.”

“We’ll go on three. Meet in the middle. Watch your back, partner.”

“Back at you,” Sabrina said.

“One, two, three.”

Aidan stepped out from behind the bushes and eased up to the porch. The first three steps were silent, the fourth gave an annoying squeak. The sleeping man opened his eyes.
 

Flying at the man on the porch, Aidan tackled him before the guy could go for his gun. They grappled all over the porch, grunts and curses filling the air. Aidan finally pinned the bastard, face down. Bending his arm behind his back, he put just the right amount of pressure to give him a taste of what a broken arm might feel like. The guy grunted. He’d most likely be yelling if it weren’t for the fact that his mouth was pressed down against wood.

“I’m going to let you raise your head just a bit so you can talk. You try to yell for your friends, I’ll rip your arm from your shoulder. You got that, asshole?”

When the guy continued to struggle, Aidan repeated his threat in Italian. The man gave a frantic nod of understanding.

Easing the pressure a bit on his head, he heard the guy release a loud puff of air and groan again.

Continuing in Italian, Aidan said in a low tone, “So far, so good. Now tell me how many men are inside.”

“It’s just me. I swear.”

“Wrong answer, asshole.” Lifting the guy’s head up by his hair, Aidan slammed his face into the porch. He pulled a zip tie from his pocket, secured the unconscious man’s hands and feet. For extra insurance, he slapped a wide swath of duct tape over his mouth and then rolled him off the porch into the bushes. “That’ll teach you to tell lies.”

Getting to his feet, he peered into the window and saw nothing other than some comfortable furniture and a number of grisly animal heads adorning the walls. Guy was not only a criminal, but he had shitty decorating taste, too.

He eased the door open and stepped inside. Noises in the back of the house told him his partner had struck. Aidan glanced around, again saw no one. He headed toward the kitchen to lend a hand. The cold steel of a gun pressed against his temple.

“Who are you?”
 

“No one,” Aidan said.

“Well Mr. No One, you’ve landed in the wrong place.” He pushed Aidan toward the kitchen. Since it was exactly where he wanted to go, he didn’t fight him. Yet.