Take the Key and Lock Her Up (18 page)

She started to turn back around when movement across the street caught her attention.
There, partially concealed by a coffee stand, was Devlin Buchanan. But he wasn’t getting
coffee. He looked almost like he was . . . hiding . . . or watching someone. She followed
the direction of his gaze. He was looking at the police station’s front entrance.

Tuck’s teasing faded into insignificance. Something was going on here, and she was
going to find out what it was.

Chapter Eleven

H
ALF-HIDDEN BEHIND A
busy coffee stand, Devlin stood across the street from the police station. Blending
in with the group of policemen leaving the station had gotten him out of the building,
but instead of turning toward the police lot where his truck was parked, they’d continued
to the diner a few feet from where he was now. He’d been forced to stay with them
or lose his cover. But when they went inside, he turned around to see if the man from
the lobby had followed him.

Sure enough, the recruit was staring right at him from a crowd of pedestrians waiting
for traffic to clear so they could cross the street. There was no point in either
of them pretending not to notice each other now. The game was on. But since they’d
both come directly from the police station, with metal detectors at the entrance,
neither of them was armed. Confronting the rookie now might be Devlin’s only chance
to try to talk to him, to find out who his handler was. But only if the handler wasn’t
nearby, possibly with Devlin in his crosshairs even now.

As the recruit started across the street toward him, Devlin decided to stand his ground.
But not here. In the alley. There were some Dumpsters twenty feet in that he could
use for cover, with scraps of lumber lying on the ground nearby. Those could become
lethal weapons in a pinch.

He headed into the alley, grabbed a thick length of wood, and positioned himself so
his right hand, holding the makeshift weapon, was concealed by the Dumpster. When
the young man came into view, he headed straight for Devlin without hesitation and
without fear.

Not a good sign.

He stopped about five feet away and pulled a small derringer from the waistband of
his pants.

Damn.

The derringer might not be a powerful weapon, but at this close range, it could kill
just as effectively as a higher caliber gun. The advantage of the derringer was that
it was easy to hide. Devlin used them himself when the situation called for something
small and deadly.

The kid stood with his back to the main street. No one passing by on the sidewalk
would notice anything unusual, just two men facing each other, talking. Unless someone
stepped into the alley, they wouldn’t see the gun.

“How’d you manage to get a gun into the police station without setting off the alarms?”
Devlin asked, mildly impressed.

“I didn’t. I hid several weapons outside before going in. Regardless of which way
you went when you left, I could be armed in less than a minute.”

He sounded pleased with himself, cocky, which was just fine with Devlin. Arrogance
could make a man careless, overconfident, vulnerable.

“Well played,” he said.

The kid nodded, his face flushing beneath the praise. Good grief. He was definitely
a rookie. And he looked too young to have even left home yet. Were they recruiting
them right out of high school now instead of college? Suddenly Devlin felt every one
of his thirty-four years. He motioned toward the gun. “Is that really necessary?”

“Considering your reputation, yeah. It’s necessary.”

Well that answered one of Devlin’s questions—whether the kid was with EXIT as he’d
suspected. He certainly didn’t have a reputation anywhere else.

“You have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am, but I don’t know you.”

The kid’s mouth scrunched, as if he were debating whether to say anything.

“It’s just a name, kid,” Devlin said. “I can call you anything. Doesn’t matter to
me if it’s your real name or not.”

His shoulders stiffened at the “kid” label. “Cougar. My name’s Cougar.”

Devlin barely managed not to roll his eyes. Cub would have been far more fitting for
a rookie like this one.

“You do know that pulling a gun on another enforcer is against the code we’re sworn
to uphold?”

“You’ve pointed guns at other enforcers plenty of times.”

Devlin tipped his head in acknowledgment. “True, but only in the course of doing my
job of going after rogues. Since I haven’t gone rogue, you’ve got no reason to point
your weapon at me. Put it away.
Now
.”

His brows drew together as if he were confused, but he didn’t lower his gun. “You
need to come back to headquarters with me, sir. Cyprian’s orders.”

Code words for “get out of this public place so I can kill you without witnesses.”

“Why?”

“Not my concern. I’m just following orders.”

“Tell you what,” Devlin said. “Put your gun away and I’ll call Cyprian,” he bluffed,
trying to buy some time. “If he confirms that he wants to see me, I’ll go. But I’m
sure not going anywhere with you holding a gun on me.”

Uncertainty flickered in Cougar’s eyes. He’d been told Devlin had gone rogue, but
Devlin wasn’t acting like it. A rogue wouldn’t offer to call the man who’d ordered
the hit on him.

Devlin flexed his right hand around the scrap of lumber. Could he buy himself a couple
of seconds if he threw the board at Cougar? If the kid hesitated even a little bit,
Devlin could take advantage of the two mistakes the rookie had already made—standing
too close and not ordering him to move away from the Dumpster. If the kid ducked to
avoid the board, all Devlin had to do was give the Dumpster a huge shove. If his aim
were true, it would hit Cougar, knocking him down and hopefully sending his derringer
flying. The metal Dumpster would also provide good cover.

“All right.” He tensed, ready to make his move. “I can be reasonable, even if you’re
not. My truck is—”

“You won’t need your truck.”

“I can’t leave it parked in the police lot. They’ll get suspicious, start asking questions.
The company wouldn’t want that.”

His gaze flicked to the top of the roof to Devlin’s left. Then he smiled.

Shoot.
The kid’s handler had arrived. Things had just gotten complicated.

“Don’t worry about the truck. It’s taken care of.” Cougar’s voice was smug, confident
now that his babysitter was nearby.

If Cougar wasn’t worried about the truck, then his handler had already removed Devlin’s
hidden gun and had hidden a GPS tracker somewhere inside, just in case Devlin got
away and tried to drive it.

Damn. He’d really loved that truck.

Cougar fairly beamed at Devlin, certain he was about to bag his mark. Devlin could
well imagine the bull his handler had fed him, being specifically chosen for the honor
of bringing in
the
Enforcer
. He’d been puffed up with importance, when in reality he was like the redshirt on
a
Star Trek
episode—the expendable man, always the first to die. They’d sent the rookie in to
see if Devlin would cooperate, fully prepared to let Cougar pay the price if he put
up a fight. He almost felt sorry for the kid.

“Police, drop your weapon!” O’Malley’s voice rang out from behind Cougar.

Ah, hell.

She was standing a few feet behind Cougar, slightly off to his right. Her gun was
shaking so hard he was surprised she didn’t drop it. Devlin’s stomach sank. What was
she thinking, to put herself in danger like this? There was an entire building full
of cops across the street. If she thought he needed help, she should have gone for
backup instead of putting herself in the line of fire. He was so furious he wanted
to shake her. But first he had to save her.

Cougar’s knuckles had whitened on the derringer’s grip. He was just as nervous as
O’Malley.

Devlin had to calm the kid down, make sure he thought this through. He needed to remind
the kid that killing a cop was forbidden. There was no reason for Cougar or his handler
to consider her a threat to EXIT. As long as that held true, she was safe.

He subtly shook his head, trying to warn Cougar off.

The kid just stared at him, his eyes wide and uncertain. He didn’t have a clue what
to do.

“Drop the weapon,” O’Malley repeated, her voice tight, squeaking just a little, just
enough to transmit her nervousness.

Cougar picked up on that nervousness. His gaze shot up to a spot somewhere over Devlin’s
left shoulder. The tension in Cougar seemed to drain right out of him. His handler
must have given him some kind of signal. The kid was back in his cocky, self-assured
mode again. Which meant he was not dangerous to only himself but to everyone around
him. He raised his hands as if to surrender and slowly turned to face O’Malley.

Please, O’Malley. Don’t panic. No sudden moves.

“Drop your weapon, now,” she demanded.

Cougar immediately tossed the derringer to the ground.

That was way too easy. Slowly, so as not to draw attention, Devlin turned his head,
looking for the handler. There, a shadow at the top of the building, moving to the
mouth of the alley. He had O’Malley covered.

“Come out from behind the Dumpster, Devlin,” she ordered.

Now
that
he was glad to do, so he could get closer to her and to Cougar.

Leaving the piece of lumber sitting on the metal ledge, he stepped beside his fellow
enforcer. The rookie glanced at him, his cocky self-assurance firmly in place. Devlin
would have loved nothing more than to punch that naïve arrogance right out of him.

“Officer O’Malley.” Devlin gave her one of his best smiles. “This isn’t what it looks
like. Steve here”—he waved in Cougar’s direction—“is an old buddy of mine. He was
just joking around. His gun isn’t even loaded. There’s no reason to be alarmed.”

Cougar smiled. “Yes, that’s right. I’m an old buddy of Devlin’s. We were goofing off.
Sorry about that, Officer.”

She took a few steps closer. “Goofing off, huh?” She eyed him up and down. “How do
you two know each other? Are you one of those alleged tour guides from EXIT like Devlin?”

Devlin winced. That was the
worst
thing she could have said.

“The gun makes sense,” she continued, “if you’re a trained assassin too.”

No.
That
was the worst thing she could have said.

He noted the subtle tensing of Cougar’s body. O’Malley was fishing, trying to get
information. She didn’t really know anything and she certainly couldn’t prove anything,
but Cougar didn’t know that. His handler didn’t know that. From their perspective,
she knew EXIT’s true mission.

She’d just become their primary target.

Devlin forced a laugh and desperately tried to salvage the situation. “I told you
already, Officer O’Malley. That theory of yours is all wrong. We’re—”

Cougar’s eyes flicked upward. A signal. He dodged to the right, toward his gun lying
on the ground.

Devlin lunged forward, grabbing O’Malley’s gun out of her hand, jerking her toward
the mouth of the alley just as a puff of concrete exploded where she’d been standing.
The shooter on top of the building had targeted her, and he had a silencer.

She cursed and struggled against Devlin. He twisted and pulled her around the corner
of the building just as another puff of concrete exploded near their feet, this time
from Cougar’s gun, which barked loudly. But the small caliber made it sound more like
a car backfiring than a gunshot. None of the pedestrians on the sidewalk out front
seemed to even notice.

He clasped her small body against him, shoved her gun down the front of his pants,
and whisked her into the diner. She pushed at his chest, struggling to break free.

“Let me go,” she demanded, squirming in his arms.

The café was bustling with diners eating breakfast before beginning their day. Unfortunately,
about half of them were wearing uniforms. There was no way he could haul O’Malley
through the building to the rear exit as he’d hoped.

“Devlin, I mean it. Let me go now, or I swear I’ll scream. Every police officer in
this place will come down on you.”

An elderly couple waiting to be seated stared at them in alarm.

Devlin winked at them before grinning down at her. “Ah, honey, I told you I was sorry.
Just let me explain.”

He pulled her down the short hallway beside the entrance that led to the restrooms.
When she opened her mouth, no doubt to make good on her threat to scream, he clamped
his mouth down on hers.

Knowing the couple was watching, and that dozens of cops were one shout away, he had
to convince them O’Malley wasn’t really in trouble. He had to make it look like they
were having a lovers’ spat. As he pulled her closer to the restrooms, he poured everything
he had into that kiss. He cradled the back of her head with one hand so she couldn’t
break free and clasped her body tightly against his so she couldn’t kick him like
she was trying to. He didn’t dare use his tongue for fear that she’d bite him, but
he expertly molded his lips to hers, teasing, tasting, caressing, breathing her breath
into his lungs.

By the time he’d hauled her through the door marked
LADIES
and into the extra-large handicapped stall, the feel of her soft breasts crushed
against him had his pulse rushing in his ears. He should have stopped kissing her,
but suddenly kissing her was all he could think about. He was consumed by the warmth
of her body pressed to his, the delicate, flowery scent of her shampoo, the unexpected
sweetness of her soft lips. If half of EXIT’s enforcers came for him right now, he
couldn’t have stopped kissing her.

Because, by some miracle, she’d started kissing him back.

The moment her lips turned beneath his and moved against him in wanton abandon, all
logical thought ceased to exist.