Secret Agent Boyfriend (7 page)

And what did they find instead?

An addict on a bender, so blitzed out of his mind he had no idea where he’d even put the girl. Derek hollered the order for hands once more before Mark’s scream echoed off the dingy walls. “Gun! Derek!”

His partner’s cry was like an accelerant to flame. The cold burn that lived under his skin burst into a raging conflagration as pure instinct took over.

Gun.

Kidnapper.

Danger.

Derek lined up his shot, intending first to hit the perp’s shoulder and then his hand if a second round was needed. Neither was meant to be fatal.

The shot echoed, registering even before the gun recoiled in his hand. The scene swam before his eyes as emotion swirled and panic eddied down to his very core. And like a mirage before his eyes, Big Al had already started moving, lunging toward Mark over the man’s battle cry about a gun.

Derek rose straight up in bed, his hands trembling as he squeezed off the imaginary shot. No matter how many ways he played it in his mind—or in his subconscious while asleep—the outcome never changed.

The perp shifted and the shot meant for his shoulder landed in the upper right quadrant of the chest, instantly shattering the collarbone.

Pale light colored the slats of the blinds as Derek fought to come out of the nightmare. With slow, aching breaths he became aware of his body again. The hard set of his shoulders. The sweat that poured down his face. The tight clench of his hands that he gently unfisted.

He was okay.

Deep breath. In. Out.

The department shrink had given him some tools to use when the panic came on, and even though it pained him to do so, he focused on the woman’s gentle instructions.

Count backward. Focus on the present. Maintain your breathing.

Step by step, he felt the calm return. Felt the tension ebb from his body. Although he couldn’t shake it completely, the worst of it was over, the hard wash of memories fading back to the place in his mind where he kept them locked up.

In.

Out.

With swift motions, he scrubbed his hand over his jaw, the scratchy stubble pulling him firmly back to the present.

He was here. Now. A quick glance around had him remembering he was in one of the guest rooms at Adair Acres, and the rest of his reality slammed back in one great, gulping wave.

Landry Adair.

The image of perfect features, sky-blue eyes and lush lips skyrocketed through his thoughts. Although he’d done his level best to keep his attraction to her in check, the combination of the early morning hour and the visceral image of her alive and well in his mind’s eye had his body hardening beneath the sheets.

She was a looker, he’d give her that. But over the past few days, he’d come to realize the exterior was actually a very small part of who she was. A very enticing part, but a small part all the same.

Landry was sharp, her mind rapidly assessing the world around her. He’d observed her the day before at headquarters, her ability to scan the reams of data they were reviewing both swift and nimble. Yes to this document, no to another. Questions about dates that led them to another search query.

He’d seen her concern for Noah. Knew she was upset about what they might find, yet she stayed focused as they searched for the truth.

And then you went and fouled it up at the market.

With another scrub to his cheeks, Derek got up and walked into the en suite bathroom. He made quick work of his morning routine, the echoes of his lunchtime interrogation still ringing in his ears.

“Why do you care what anyone else thinks?”

“My mother cares, and that’s all that matters.”

“But she’s not here.”

“Oh, that’s right. She’s a killer on the run you’re determined to catch.”

The food was a prickly point, no doubt about it. Yet he’d pushed anyway, anxious to understand the issue beneath the surface. And wasn’t surprised when it circled back to Patsy Adair.

The search for Reginald’s missing son had ruled their marriage for over thirty-five years.

What did that do to a woman?

To be married to a man who couldn’t move on? Couldn’t move past the tragedy? Was it possible she murdered her husband?

Landry refused to believe her mother had done it and had made some fairly persuasive arguments to support her point. None of it changed the fact that Patsy had proven herself willing to take a life with her attempts on Whit’s new wife, Elizabeth.

But her own husband?

Derek snatched a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt out of his duffel and added a windbreaker after considering the cool California air in the morning. The nightmare over the Frederickson case had him up, and now that his mind was whirling he wanted a place to put all that energy to good use. He’d enjoyed his time on a horse the day before.

He’d saddle up and see if he couldn’t puzzle out some of the mystery as he flew over the grounds of Adair Acres on Diego.

* * *

Landry walked into the barn, the normal, sweet scent of hay masked by a layer of something sour, like rot in a garbage can. She’d thought to get in early and ride Pete, but at the evidence that something wasn’t right, she came to a halt inside the barn.

Did one of the horses get sick?

She stood still for another moment, trying to orient her senses and identify the scent, but the exercise proved futile.

Although early-morning light filtered through the high barn windows, Landry flipped on all the overheads to check each stall. The horses were all awake and alert, their breaths quick as they watched her pass. She greeted each one by name, stopping to pat their noses and stare into their eyes.

Damn, but what had them riled up this morning?

There hadn’t been any storms the previous night, and when she’d spoken to Noah yesterday before going up to her room he’d said that every horse had been well exercised.

So what had everyone upset?

She moved from stall to stall, checking each horse while her gaze roamed over their bedding and food supply. Everything appeared to be in order, yet their discomfort was real. Tangible. And if anything, it had gotten worse since she’d walked into the barn.

Diego greeted her with a hard shove of his nose on her hand and she took an extra moment to soothe him before heading for Pete. The large thoroughbred shook his head, his agitation more than obvious when she finally reached his stall. “What’s wrong, baby?”

With soft tones, she kept her voice level, crooning to him through the open window of his stall. They were nothing but nonsense words, the sort one would use with a colicky baby, but nothing she tried seemed to settle him.

Even with his nose nuzzling her hand and her cheek pressed to his, that sense of agitation never wavered.

“What is it, buddy?”

When Pete only shook his head and stamped his front hooves, she stepped back.

Landry kept contact with Pete, but allowed her gaze to travel the length of the barn and back. Whatever was going on wasn’t obvious, but something had the horses spooked.

She turned on her heel and walked into the small office they kept inside the barn. The three-digit code to the main house was answered immediately, despite the early hour.

“June, this is Landry. Is Noah up yet?”

The woman was sweet and efficient and seemed to sense the urgency immediately. “No, but I can go get him for you.”

“Please send him straight down to the stables. Something has the horses agitated and I’d like to have him here.”

“Can I send someone else down, Miss Landry? Are you there alone?”

Landry forced a sense of calm into her tone. “I think Noah will be enough. Let him know I’m calling Dr. Walters, as well.”

“Of course.”

The vet’s number was tacked on the wall in bold letters, and she called him next. She’d barely heard the first ring when a loud series of whinnies had her slamming down the phone.

“Hey—” Landry stopped midsentence when Derek’s broad form filled the walkway.

“What’s going on in here? Why are the horses so upset?”

“I don’t know.” Sly, panicky fingers gripped her stomach and she fought down the sick ball. “They’ve only gotten more agitated since I got inside.”

“Should we let them out into the corral?”

“I’d like to get Noah here first. And I was about to call the vet.” Landry hesitated before she spoke. “Pete seems the worst. Maybe you can help me calm him down. Or between the two of us we can get him outside?”

Derek nodded. “Where’s his lead?”

“Everything’s in the feed room, stored in cubbies for each of them.”

A sense of calm punched through that hot ball of lead, Derek’s presence more soothing than she could have ever imagined. How did he know she needed help? Now that he was here, she had to admit she felt a little silly.

Goodness, but she’d spent her entire life around horses. She knew how to handle herself and how to handle the animals. So what the heck had her so spooked?

“Which would you like me to use?” Derek pointed to the large cubby and the various pieces of equipment stacked neatly in the efficient space.

“I’ll get the one I like.”

She passed Pete’s stall on her way to Derek, shocked when the animal shoved his large form against the stall door, an agitated cry escaping his lips.

“Pete!”

Derek pulled her close, his arm wrapped tight around her shoulders. “Has he ever done this?”

“No. I can’t imagine what it—”

The sharp, swift shake of a snake’s rattle had the words dying in her throat.

But it was the sight of a large, coiled brown body on the edge of the feed bin that had a scream crawling up to take their place.

Chapter 7

D
erek pulled at Landry’s shoulders, pulling her just clear of the snake’s striking range as it fell off the feed bin, primed to attack. Her booted foot got tangled with his and they nearly fell into a heap before he righted them, dragging her back several feet.

“Hold still.” Landry hissed the words, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“It’s startled. Give it a minute to settle. We can’t lose sight of it and risk it getting into one of the stalls.”

Derek eyed the agitated snake, its body coiled to strike as its dark rattle lit up the quiet of the barn. Even the horses had gone still, their heavy breathing the only sign they were there. “You ever dealt with one of these before?”

Her body quivered under his hands, but she held her ground. She maintained that quiet tone and he marveled that she could manage the thread of calm woven underneath the words. “Not like this. No.”

“How are we going to take care of it?”

“We’re going to give it another minute to calm down and then you’re going to back away slowly behind me and grab the metal shovel from the tack room.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“I’m closer. And my boots go up to my knees if it does decide to strike.”

Derek knew his city upbringing hadn’t prepared him for this sort of scenario, but he also knew enough about threatened animals to know she put herself in danger.

“I’ll stay here and you go.”

“Go now. Please.” She shoved at his arm. “I can’t put the horses at risk. They trust me.”

The knowledge that she’d protect the horses at such risk to herself was as maddening as it was humbling. Unwilling to argue any longer than necessary, he took a few steps back, stopping once more when the rattle began to click faster.

“Derek. Hurry.”

He kept his steps even, one foot behind the other, as he moved toward the tack room. With each deliberate step, the lingering vestiges of his nightmare rose up, tightening his chest and trapping the air in his lungs.

The predator might be different, but the threat was all too similar.

That familiar anger—the one he’d held on to for the last several months—warred with the lack of air and he ran the last few feet to the tack room.

He’d get there in time. He
had
to.

The shovel was right where Landry said it would be and he grabbed it before rushing back to her.

“On my mark, Landry.”

“Derek—”

“Move now!”

She was already in motion as the thin edge of the shovel came down, his aim true. The snake’s body continued to move, but the severed head lay separate and no longer a threat.

He reached for Landry and dragged her close. A hard tremor started in his arms and he clung to her, willing the shaking to subside.

“You didn’t have to yell, you know.” Her terse grumble was muffled against his chest as she pressed her face into his shirt, her arms tight around his waist.

“I wasn’t yelling. I was ordering. There’s a difference.” He’d meant the words as a joke, but the guttural exhale of breath messed up any attempt at humor.

He took the moment to simply breathe her in before he pressed his lips to her head. Images of what could have happened rose up along with a sudden shout.

They pulled back as Noah barreled into the barn, an unbuttoned shirt on over his jeans and boots. “What happened?”

Landry stepped back and pointed toward the now-still rattler. “We had a poisonous visitor arrive last night.”

“What? Where?” Confusion grooved sharp lines in Noah’s face before he crouched down to look at Derek’s handiwork. “Clean work. You got him on the first try.”

“I didn’t plan to miss.” Some measure of equilibrium had returned to his voice, but he still wasn’t able to quite hit the casual, humorous note he was going for. “Damn thing fell right out of the feed bin.”

“What the hell?” Noah was back on his feet, stomping toward the line of individualized bins. “Where?”

“Right there.” Landry pointed toward the bin labeled with Pete’s name. “He was coiled on top of Pete’s feed bin.”

“I closed that last night. Secured it myself after I fed him.”

“So someone else must have pushed it aside.”

“No.” Noah shook his head. “No. I left pretty late and I checked everything myself. I’d already sent Mac and Wendy on their way.”

Noah walked the length of the sealed feed bins, his hands running over the edges.

“Be careful.” Landry stepped forward, and Derek fought the desperate need that clawed at him to lay a hand on her arm to keep her still. “Where there’s one there could be others.”

“Not this time.” Noah lifted the lid of Pete’s feed bin and reached inside. When he came out, he had a thick canvas bag in his hand. “That snake didn’t find its way in here on accident. Someone put it here.”

* * *

Landry let the wild air whip around her face and willed the events of the morning to fade from her mind. She’d never been as scared as the moment she saw the snake coiled on top of Pete’s feed container.

But to know someone put it there?

The powerful body beneath her bunched and moved, all sinew and corded muscle, and she leaned into him, willing the animal to take her wherever he wanted to go.

Away.

Far, far away from whatever threat lurked around her home.

She’d believed herself immune to the same danger as the rest of her family, but now she wasn’t so sure. The snake was placed in
her
animal’s feed bin. And her schedule wasn’t exactly a secret to many people. She often rose early to go to the barn. Heck, Noah kept updated schedules throughout the barn at all times so they kept track of which horse needed a workout and who needed rest.

What if the snake had been meant for her?

And what if someone else had found it instead? She didn’t make it to the barn early every morning. And in point of fact, Derek had been the one to get to the feed bin first, searching for Pete’s lead.

The cool morning air coated her body. Where it normally invigorated, all she felt was a bone-deep chill that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the threat that had suddenly decided to target her family.

The pasture at the far end of Adair Acres beckoned, and she added pressure with her legs to slow Pete down. While she’d love nothing more than to run all morning, her beautiful boy probably needed a rest.

And no matter how badly she wanted to put it off, it was time to talk to Derek.

The whistle of the wind faded. Pete reduced his speed, and she felt his subtle prance as they drew nearer to the field. The thunder of hooves grew louder and she turned to see Derek and Diego headed their direction.

Her breath caught in her throat at the picture he made atop the horse. Even from a distance, she could see the corded muscles in his forearms and how his powerful thighs bunched around in the saddle.

She allowed herself a moment of pure feminine appreciation to watch the view.

And wonder how he always managed to catch her off guard. As though her memory of him never quite competed with the reality of Derek Winchester in the flesh.

Rachel’s words from the night before whispered slyly through her thoughts, and before she knew it, Landry had a very vivid image of Derek in his underwear, splayed across a billboard fourteen feet high.

The man was a vision; there was no doubt about it. But the past few days had ensured that her image of him continued to grow and expand. From his competence at the FBI offices to his pushy lunch conversation at the Farmers Market to his role as protector this morning.

She’d felt his barely leashed strength as he stood behind her in the barn while they dealt with the snake. She’d also recognized his ire when she sent him off to get the shovel. Despite the fear that the snake would strike one of them or the horses, she’d had a moment of pure pleasure, too.

He hadn’t wanted to leave her behind.

“That was quite a ride.” He pulled Diego into a walk, their pace acclimating to hers and Pete’s, and she let the fleeting thought fly off into the breeze.

“After this morning, I’d say it was a well-needed run for all of us.”

“No arguments here.” As if providing further evidence of his skills, Derek stayed close enough to communicate, but maintained a distance between the two animals. Their morning scare still had the barn’s residents skittish, and she appreciated that Derek understood each horse’s need for individualized attention.

“You’re quite the rider. Where’d you learn?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

She cocked her head at that, the challenge in his answer too tempting to resist. “Try me.”

“College.”

“I figured you for a city boy with a criminal justice degree.”

“I was both of those things, but I got my degree at a rural college in Maryland. Equestrian lessons were electives, and I decided to take a class.”

“What was her name?”

The question was out before she could stop it. When she was rewarded with an easy grin that suffused his face in carefree lines, Landry was glad she’d asked the question.

“The girl I liked or the horse?”

“Both.”

His dark eyes grew reflective, and she saw the years fade away. “Emma was the girl. Harlow was the horse. Both were beauties.”

“Harlow?”

“The owner had a thing for old movies. He named all his mares after Hollywood stars. Which, I might add—” his gaze darkened as he glanced at Pete “—is a far more elegant name than Pete.”

Landry leaned forward and pressed her lips to the top of Pete’s head. “Don’t tease my baby.”

“Why Pete?”

“Why not?”

“Because he was sired through a Triple Crown winner’s lineage.”

“All the more reason he should have a normal name.”

“Nope. Not buying it.”

Although she wouldn’t exactly call Derek Winchester an open book, there was an honesty about him she found refreshing. Unlike the society crowd she’d run with her whole life, there was something simple in his direct approach to life.

Add on the fact that he didn’t pull any punches—if he had a question, he asked, and if he had an opinion, he stated it—and Landry found herself growing more and more comfortable in his presence.

It was an odd sensation—both the lack of artifice and the fact that she was enjoying it. And it was more than a little unnerving to know she couldn’t quite get her footing with him.

What was even more unnerving was realizing that perhaps she didn’t want to.

“I never cared about his lineage.”

“Didn’t you pick him out?”

“In a way. When I showed an interest in riding, my father encouraged it. It was the one thing we could do together, and I loved every minute of it. Being with him, in his orbit, with his full attention focused on me.”

“So what changed?”

“When I began to get good at it, my mother stepped in. She felt that riding was an acceptable activity for a young girl of wealthy means and proudly preened to all her friends and acquaintances about my advancing skill. She also felt it would help me keep my weight in check. She pressured my father to get me a spectacular horse.”

“So they gave you Pete?”

“My mother went on about it for weeks. How I’d get a fancy horse and show up every family in the county. The more she talked about it, the more I wasn’t interested.”

“Yet you went along with things anyway?”

“Of course. The good daughter, following her mother’s instructions.”

While she would defend her mother’s innocence until the day she died, Landry had to admit that the last few months since Patsy fled had been freeing. She’d known her mother’s ways were oppressive, but it was only with her finally gone that Landry could admit just how bad things had become.

The endless censure and criticism. The prying eyes and leading questions, wondering when Landry’s next date was or why she’d stopped seeing that Asher boy. Even Carson’s arrival home from the military—injury and all—hadn’t shifted her mother’s eagle-eyed focus off Landry’s life.

“So what happened?”

“My father scheduled an afternoon with the owner of Pete’s dam for us to take a look. I’d spent the car ride sullen and irritated and had played ‘Let My Love Open the Door’ on repeat the whole way.”

“Pete Townshend?”

“Yep.”

“And then I got out of the car and walked into the stable and fell in love with my own Pete, and that was the end of my complaints.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up, a wry grin on his face. “Love opened the door?”

Landry bent down and wrapped her arms around Pete’s neck. “I guess it did.”

* * *

Derek had never been jealous of anyone or anything in his life, but in that moment he had to admit he’d finally experienced the emotion.

And how the hell was a grown man jealous of a thousand-pound horse?

He’d listened to Landry’s story, and similar to their lunch the day before, had taken away yet another facet of her life. What appeared perfect and pristine on the surface hid a wealth of anger and frustration.

Who treated their child that way?

While he’d never considered his upbringing much more than average, the more time he spent with Reginald Adair’s family the more he realized just how good he’d had it. Two parents who’d loved each other. A sister and brother he still talked to and enjoyed spending time with. And a pool of memories that weren’t filled with experiences based on how he looked or what the neighbors might think.

As that thought hit, another followed, and that sense of jealousy faded to nothingness. “I’m glad you had Pete.”

“I am, too.”

While he’d admired her persistence earlier and her commitment to the animals in the Adair stables, he hadn’t fully understood why she’d put herself at risk for the horses.

With the understanding of what the horse meant to her, he saw her actions in a new light. He couldn’t quite assuage his frustration that she’d put herself in danger, but it helped to understand it.

“Who do you think left the snake?”

The proverbial storm cloud that had hovered above them all morning finally opened up. He’d spent the ride turning it over in his mind, but he was no closer to an answer. Nor could he come up with a place to start looking for one.