Take the Key and Lock Her Up (22 page)

He hesitated. “Well, yes. Of course. But
after
that. The most important vow each enforcer makes is to never kill another enforcer.
Unless they’ve gone rogue. You broke that rule, Devlin. Now you have to pay the price.”

Devlin’s hand tightened around the phone. He couldn’t mention the pictures Gage had
shown him without revealing that Gage had helped him. “You’re talking about Shannon.
I discovered her remains yesterday when I assisted a police officer who was in trouble.
I didn’t know it was Shannon until late last night, when the police confirmed her
identity. Did you know she’d been reported as a missing person by her family? I sure
as hell didn’t. How could she have been missing for four months without you knowing
about it?”

“Careful, Devlin. It sounds like you’re accusing me of something.”

“Ditto.”

Cyprian laughed, sounding genuinely amused. “Touché. Shannon was on extended leave
between missions. She was burned out, needed a break. I had no reason to suspect anything
had happened. I assume, of course, that you’re calling to tell me you didn’t kill
her. I would expect no less.”

“She was a skeleton when Detective O’Malley and I discovered her remains. I’ve been
on a mission for the past four months.”

Harsh laughter sounded through the phone. “Good try. I’m sure the police were convinced
of your alibi because of the receipts EXIT provided them. But you and I both know
your mission was . . . flexible, with some downtime. If you wanted to kill Shannon,
you could have fit it into your schedule. It’s not like Montana’s on another continent.
Try again.” His voice shook with anger.

“You really
do
think I killed her, don’t you?” Devlin asked.

“I wouldn’t have issued the EXIT order otherwise.”

Frustration curled inside him. “What evidence do you have against me?”

“Does it really matter?”

“You’re damn right it does. I’ve been nothing but loyal to EXIT’s mission for over
a decade. I deserve to know what kind of trumped-up proof someone is using against
me.”

“I’ve seen the pictures you took of Shannon,” Cyprian accused. “There’s evidence in
the pictures that proves your guilt.”

Damn. He wished he could mention the garrote, and that anyone could have copied his
design. “What evidence? How did you get pictures if I supposedly took them? I certainly
wouldn’t have sent them to you if I had.”

“I’m not going to debate you on this. You were sloppy. That’s the end of it.”

Devlin kneaded the back of his neck. This was a nightmare. “Ask yourself why I would
hurt Shannon. There are usually signs when someone’s going off the grid. You and I
both know that. This job is hell on a person. Not everyone can handle it. But when
enforcers lose it, when the work we do warps them and twists them and they can no
longer see the good, the signs are there. Did you see signs with me? I know you didn’t
because there weren’t any. Take another look at your so-called evidence, but this
time, ask yourself how it could be faked. Because I guaran-freaking-tee the evidence
is
fake.
I didn’t kill her
.”

A deep sigh sounded through the phone. “I’d love nothing more than to believe you,
Devlin. And even though it shames me to admit it, knowing what you’ve done, I feel
empathy for you. I can’t imagine what you all go through. But the work we do is essential.
We eradicate evil in the world to save innocents, to keep our country safe, to keep
our families safe. I can’t turn a blind eye when one of my enforcers, regardless of
who he is or if he’s been like a son to me through the years, goes bad. It’s my duty,
my burden as the head of this company.”

“Damn it, Cyprian. What do I have to do to convince you I’m being framed?”

“Nothing. You can’t.”

The conviction in his boss’s voice shocked Devlin. Cyprian was an intelligent man.
He had to know it was ludicrous for Devlin to have taken the pictures and sent them
to him. So there must have been something else that had Cyprian convinced, in addition
to the pictures. Something so damning there was no doubt in Cyprian’s mind of Devlin’s
guilt.

“Why not?” he asked quietly. “What do you have that convinces you so absolutely of
my guilt?”

Cyprian didn’t answer. He’d obviously said everything he intended to say on the subject.

Devlin checked the digital display on his watch. He was dangerously close to the two-minute
mark. He had to hurry. “Who’s handling Cougar?”

“You know I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Whoever it is, tell them to leave Detective O’Malley alone. She said some stupid
things in the alley this morning. She was reaching, throwing out theories to see if
anything stuck. But she doesn’t
know
anything. I haven’t told her
anything
. She’s not a threat to EXIT. Promise me you won’t let anyone touch her. Do I have
to remind you of rule number three, Cyprian? Never kill a cop.”

“As long as the detective isn’t a threat to our mission, she’s safe.”

“That’s not an answer. Have you issued an EXIT order for her?”

The line clicked.

“Cyprian?”

No answer. Had he lost the connection? He pulled the phone back. No, the connection
was fine. Cyprian had hung up. He’d stayed on too long. Cyprian had his location.
He threw the blanket off and bolted from the van.

Chapter Thirteen

W
HEN
E
MILY TURNED
in to her driveway, something sparkling on her lawn caught her attention. She pulled
into the garage, forced her aching body out of her car, and trudged out to the lawn.
Pieces of broken glass that had once been the streetlight lay beside a large rock.
At least now she knew why the light had been out last night. Some neighborhood kid
must have been playing target practice. She’d forgotten to call the city to fix it,
but calling would have to wait another day. The exhaustion she’d been holding off
had kicked in, making her lids heavy, her movements sluggish. Once her head hit the
pillow, she probably wouldn’t wake until tomorrow afternoon.

Once inside, she slogged her way through the house toward her bedroom. Had she ever
been this tired before? The closest she could remember was back in college, when she’d
stayed up all night cramming for finals two days straight. Going without sleep was
a bad idea back then and an even worse one now.

She’d meant to go straight home this morning after Tuck had driven her back to the
station, but a report had been waiting on her desk for her to review. Then a detective
who’d been wanting her opinion on a case for days stopped by. She’d felt obligated
to listen to him while he droned on about his case. And then she gave him suggestions
for developing new leads. One thing led to another, and morning had become afternoon
before she’d finally escaped. Now the thought of her head hitting the pillow sounded
better than chocolate, better than really good, sweaty sex, better than both—together.

Unless, maybe, if the sex was with Devlin. It might be worth more sacrificed sleep
to lick an entire jar of hot chocolate off his body, paying special attention to a
few specific, extremely interesting parts of his anatomy. She giggled, then clapped
her hands over her mouth. She was not a giggle type of girl. Ever. And what in the
world had made her have
those
kinds of thoughts about Devlin? Obviously she was more exhausted than even she’d
realized.

Another giggle escaped as she swayed on her feet in her bedroom doorway. She crossed
the room and stowed her gun in the top drawer in the bedside table, then hurriedly
shed her clothes, not even bothering to stuff them in the hamper.

Her mother would have been horrified.

That thought elicited a whole host of giggles. She couldn’t quite ignore her proper
upbringing enough to go to bed dirty, so she took a quick shower. Big mistake. The
warm water relaxed her muscles like limp noodles. Barely able to stand anymore, she
grabbed a soft, thin T-shirt and panties from her top dresser drawer and yanked them
on while she stumbled across the room. Her last thought as she collapsed onto the
mattress was that her mother would have been scandalized that she didn’t pull the
comforter back first.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

T
HE TWO-CAR GARAGE
across the street from Emily’s house was hot and sticky, but Devlin had performed
stakeouts in far worse conditions. He’d been surprised that Emily had come home so
early in the day. It was only a little past noon. Maybe she hadn’t slept well last
night, or she wanted to review her case notes somewhere away from the noise and bustle
of the squad room. Either way worked for him. At least he knew where she was and that
she was safe.

It had taken him several hours to shake Cougar off his tail. Just seconds after exiting
the minivan, he’d been crouching behind an SUV two rows away when Cougar had wheeled
into the parking garage. That had made it tricky—and time-consuming—to sneak out without
being seen.

Once he was out, he’d worked his way through the downtown area until he was certain
his shadow was gone. After that he’d retrieved one of his stashed cars, along with
a special go bag with the electronic surveillance equipment he needed for his next
task—keeping watch over Emily. The bag also had the weapons he’d need to fight Cougar
and his handler and whoever else was after him, if it came to that.

Watching her house from his car was too obvious in a residential neighborhood. Someone
would have called neighborhood watch eventually. So, instead, he’d slipped into the
garage in the house across the street. It was a risky move, since her neighbors were
home. But it gave him the added advantage of being close by if he needed to get to
Emily quickly.

The major downside to his hiding place was that the neighbors could decide at any
time to leave the house—by way of their garage. Which was why he’d wedged a glove
from the homeowner’s gardening supplies underneath the door that led into the garage.
Not a long-term solution, but it should give him enough warning to escape through
the valet door into the side yard.

He hoped his vigilance would prove unnecessary. Cyprian was too honorable to ignore
Devlin’s warnings that Emily wasn’t a threat without checking the facts. In a best-case
scenario, he’d cancel the EXIT order and she’d be safe, leaving Devlin to focus on
his self-assigned mission—finding Kelly Parker.

Her name hadn’t come up in his conversation with Cyprian. Either he didn’t know Kelly
was missing or he
did
, and that was the real reason Cyprian had issued an EXIT order. That seemed like
the more likely scenario. Anyone who hurt Kelly would be number one on Cyprian’s kill
list. The
only
way Devlin could turn this around was to find her, alive.

But right now he had to focus on watching Emily and figuring out if she even needed
his protection. Finding where she lived had been ridiculously easy. A simple Internet
search for the name O’Malley had yielded only one possible match: E. O’Malley. He’d
broken into her house a few hours earlier to verify it was the
right
house and to familiarize himself with the layout. She had a security alarm, but it
was a cheap, mass-market model that any self-respecting burglar could disarm in a
couple of minutes.

It had taken Devlin less than one.

Pictures on the walls had confirmed it belonged to Emily. She either had a large family
or a lot of friends, maybe both. A quick search confirmed she lived alone. No roommates,
no pets, which made his job easier. But that would also made Cougar’s job easier,
if he showed.

Devlin twisted one of the knobs on the dual-purpose watch that was also a receiver
for the tiny hidden cameras he’d set up outside of Emily’s house. The crystal-clear
display showed the front view. A few taps on the screen and he’d checked all four
sides of her property. As of 1:15 p.m., all was quiet and Emily was safe.

The hours dragged by. Sweat trickled down his neck as the garage baked beneath the
hot summer sun. He’d prepared for the heat, keeping hydrated with bottles of water
and energy drinks. And he had a covered bucket for when his bladder was full. Occasionally
he cracked open the garage’s valet door to make sure the way was still clear if he
had to leave in a hurry. Those brief moments allowed a tiny bit of cooler, fresher
air inside, but there was no true relief from the toasty temperatures until well after
the sun had set and the garage plunged into darkness.

He rolled his head on his shoulders and stretched, then took a few turns around the
cars in the garage as he had every hour to keep his muscles from cramping. He settled
back on the floor and went through his routine—tapping the display on the watch, studying
each camera view. Everything looked as it should. He was about to lower his watch
when something at the back of the house had every one of his muscles tensing.

What had he seen? There, near the back door. Movement at the kitchen window. Emily?
Had she gotten up for a drink? A dark shape passed another window. The shadow was
too tall and broad to be made by the petite woman he’d held in his arms earlier today.

Someone had broken into Emily’s house.

C
HOKING!
C
AN’T BREATHE!
Can’t . . . breathe!

Emily jerked awake to the scratchy feel of cheap cotton filling her mouth. She tried
to draw in a deep breath, but the material tickled the back of her throat, making
her cough and gag. Something hard and unyielding kept her from opening her eyes.

What’s happening to me?

She forced herself to breathe through her nose instead of fighting the cloth. Slow,
shallow breaths. Was she still asleep? In the grips of a nightmare? She tried to reach
for whatever was forcing her eyes shut. Her hands jerked short. Cold metal jangled
and chafed against her skin.
Handcuffs!
Someone had cuffed her hands to the bed. Oh, God. She was blindfolded, gagged, and
restrained.