Out of the Mist (Can't Help Falling Book 1) Page 14

  "Just about." Julie turned to the window again. It was easier to talk with him when she didn't have to look into eyes that seemed to see everything. "She keeps a handle on everything. If I could just talk to her-"

  "You will . . . soon."

  "What if she's in danger, too?"

  Matt hesitated, tucking the list in his pocket. "As soon as we find her, I'll put someone on her."

  "You'll protect her?" She challenged, finally turning. "Are you even looking for her? Or is this one more promise you don't intend to keep?"

  Though surprise flashed in his eyes, he didn't take the bait. "Believe me, we're looking."

  Relief flooded her. Just when she thought he had no redeeming qualities, Agent Barnes showed his human side.

  Matt's reflection joined hers in the window. "I need to apologize for earlier. My only excuse is that whatever's happening— you're at the center of it."

  "But-" Julie's voice died in her throat when his hands came to rest on her shoulders. She had to fight not to lean back against him. He was so solid. So real. Agent Barnes probably didn't know how to be anything other than reliable.

  "I'm not blaming," he clarified. "Just fumbling to explain my actions."

  It wasn't fair that his next words mattered so much. But increasingly, she couldn't make herself care. With her life in jeopardy and her world crumbling, imagining herself falling in love with the wrong man didn't seem such a huge deal anymore.

  "We can't protect you if we don't know what you're doing."

  She swallowed her disappointment. What had she expected? She was a puzzle piece— a link to something more important. A minor attraction wouldn't get in his way. "I won't do anything without checking first. And— I'll try not to argue."

  He smiled. "Let's not get crazy."

  "I said try," she reminded.

  "I know it's intrusive," he acknowledged, closing the blinds before nudging her to face him. "But— your life will return to normal."

  "What if I don't remember what normal is?"

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's like riding a bike, Jules."

  Raising her gaze, she forgot to breathe when he trailed a finger down her cheek. She was a distraction to him— nothing more. When he brushed her lower lip with his thumb, a shiver careened through her. "What are you-"

  "When I issue orders," he interrupted, "it's because I don't want you getting hurt."

  It required every ounce of her attention to focus on his whispered words, before she grew mesmerized by the heat shimmering in his amazing eyes. Was this a trap? Would he turn on her again? "I'll try to remember— the next time you yell at me."

  "Everything will be alright," he whispered.

  His lying voice washed over her. Never in her adult life could she have imagined needing— nor wanting someone to protect her. Yet with his arm slung confidently around her, Matt Barnes made her feel secure— a sensation she hadn't experienced in years. She'd forged her own way for so long, she'd forgotten how amazing it felt to lean on someone.

  "I want to believe you."

  As Jon Kimball's daughter, her social life revolved around his professional one. Dutifully tackling the role of hostess, she couldn't remember a time she hadn't felt onstage. Even dating was work. Men in dark suits who expected her to behave like a corporate executive. No Sunday afternoons at the beach. No strolls across the windy Common to marvel at the kites and share a pretzel. Her dating life was an endless circuit of cocktail parties. Sparkling conversation and looking good on someone's arm.

  When she inevitably grew tired of the effort required to maintain the shiny surface, her relationships fizzled— leaving her depressed she'd repeated the cycle— yet relieved it was finally over. No man had ever bothered to peer below the surface, because the brittle candy coating was all they'd wanted.

  She'd never met anyone she'd felt comfortable enough with to lower her guard. To let him see the awkward, self-doubting, lonely person inside. Until now. Life crumpled. An emotional wreck. Though she was falling apart, Barnes was still standing there— his magnet still irresistibly drawn to hers . . . despite the circumstances.

  The charge in the moment was palpable as everything went completely still, electricity arcing through the air they shared. Julie could step back now— gain some needed distance. And she knew he would let her go. It was entirely her move.

  Instead, she smiled.

  "Jules-" Blue eyes heating as he read her mind, he pulled her closer.

  Acknowledging the smoldering need, she leaned in to kiss him. He met her halfway, their lips grazing with the softest, sweetest touch before she drew back to stare at him. Matt's confused smile told her he couldn't help himself either. She was smiling when he kissed her again.

  Sensation skidded through her. His mouth on hers. So impossibly good. When he nudged her with his tongue, she opened on a soft sigh, tugging his hair to pull him closer. His body radiated heat. Strength. Certainty. Warm skin coating tough, corded muscle. She wanted to lean into him, absorb his strength. Borrow from his endless reserve of confidence.

  Arching into him, she felt the controlled strength, the hardness of his body against hers. Felt his shudder become hers. The tension shimmering below the surface flashed over, enveloping them as she shifted closer, restless fingers under his shirt, stroking the heated skin as though she could brand him with her touch.

  "Jules-" He took the kiss deeper, hands planted on her hips to steady her against him. She swayed into him, wanting more. More closeness. Impossibly, she wanted everything.

  Laughter in the living room broke through the sensual haze. When they finally broke free, she nearly stumbled, but his hands quickly steadied her. "I don't like making you miserable." Nose to nose for his whispered confession, Matt's eyes were solemn.

  How could she possibly forget where they were? By the time Finn rapped on the doorframe, Matt was at the door to meet him. Tumultuous thoughts skidding through her brain, Julie prayed she didn't appear as overwhelmed as she felt.

  "Mullaney wants us ready to leave in an hour."

  With a sinking sense of defeat, she acknowledged Matt's hasty glance, his parting words all business. "Be ready in forty-five minutes."

  ***

  "Let's recap— you had a clear shot at her . . . but you didn't take it?"

  He raked nervous fingers through his hair. "She's surrounded by cops now. They're in the cottage, but I can't get a clear shot without-"

  "You do realize what's at stake?"

  The brief flash of anger dissipated, leaving the cold, calculating voice that always sent a shiver down his spine. An angry Viper was not nearly as intimidating as the cold, robotic sociopath he'd grown accustomed to dealing with. "I've secured the memory card." It had taken breaking into Keyes Group to get it. Two mounted cameras there to dispose of. Another in the parking lot to disable. Each unplanned task risked his exposure. This gig was rapidly devolving to a clusterf-

  "Something you should have thought about on the front end."

  Forcing a calm he didn't feel, he resisted the jibe.

  "If I'm forced to move the operation because you can't handle the simple jobs you've been paid for, I'll hold you personally responsible."

  The simple jobs that had already left three people dead. Suddenly very tired, he wondered again whether it was worth it. "I'm not suicidal," he snapped, momentarily forgetting who he was speaking to. "I'll get the job done," he hastened to add. "It looks like they're moving out tonight."

  "That confirms my information. Make sure you don't lose her."

  ***

  "So, who are you?" Matt muttered from the back seat of Finn's government issue Chevy as he watched the grainy hotel surveillance video on Julie's laptop. Munoz? After six viewings, he still couldn't summon any concrete answers. A medium height, medium build body— wearing a gray hoodie and jeans. Hood up. There wasn't much detail to retrieve— except the person knew there'd be cameras.

  "Was Julie's hotel room key in her purse?" He
watched the video again. Whoever entered her room had swiped a key. The front desk had confirmed there'd only been one issued.

  Finn flipped through the stack of folders and found the one he sought. "No key."

  "So whoever this is used hers."

  "If it was Matias, he probably threw it away." Finn stretched his legs, his gaze glued to the rearview mirror. "So, what are you doing about her?"

  Matt glanced up from the screen. "Who?"

  "You know who."

  He was finally rid of Jules for a few hours, sticking her with Mullaney's crew for the ride back to Boston. Finally able to focus on anything else. "We've got a pile of analysis to get through. Why don't we focus on that?"

  "You want to ignore it-" O'Brien held up a hand in mock surrender. "We'll throw another rule out the window." He yanked a clipped stack of data from the pile and settled into the front passenger seat. Sherm, a taskforce member from the state police dive squad had volunteered to drive. Watching the exchange in the rearview mirror, he stayed out of it.

  Matt rubbed the grittiness from his eyes. A headache loomed, one he would blame on lack of sleep and an abundance of stress. For the sudden flare of tension with his partner, he laid the responsibility squarely on himself.

  Okay— so he'd lost his perspective on Julie. Finn clearly sensed a change in the vibe between them— as did the rest of the team. Matt was honest enough to admit he'd suffered a serious lapse in judgment— something that had never happened before. Something he couldn't allow to occur again.

  Every agent had weaknesses. Admitting Julie was his was half the battle. The walls he'd erected over the past ten years would be tested full force. Matt had resisted numerous women over the years— all with varying motives. Only difference this time— the suspect motives were on his part. Somewhere along the way, Julie had become more than simply an attractive witness. A great deal more.

  It didn't help matters that his last detail had ended in disaster. Unlike the kid, he'd seen witness protection incidents go south. If Finn stuck around the agency long enough, he'd discover that bleak fact for himself. The car remained quiet as it ate up the miles on the circuitous route home.

  Before leaving, the team had finished boarding up the cottage. Despite the inevitability, Jonas hadn't been thrilled about the state police taking control of the warehouse crime scene. Nor had he been happy with the list of seemingly low level tasks they'd asked him to complete— not when he'd lost a member of his own force. But Steve also knew how the game worked. He was a small-town, hovering-on-retirement captain. He'd do whatever they needed done.

  "Everything quiet, Sherman?"

  The driver nodded. "No signs of trouble so far."

  "What do you make of the break-in at Keyes Group?" Finn finally spoke.

  "I'm sure when they complete the inventory, they'll find KTec's film is missing." Sighing, Matt turned his attention to Julie's laptop. "It's like they're three steps ahead of us— every time."

  "I just heard from the partner who met with Julie. Says he has a copy." Finn glanced up from his phone. "Said it was just luck— that she'd emailed him."

  "He's gonna send it?"

  "By tonight."

  A million clues that always circled back to KTec and Juliet Kimball. What had he overlooked? Matt scrolled through her email, frowning over the messages from Jack Stephens. "Did you review these last night?"

  Finn yawned. "Yeah. Mullaney's wiretap shows multiple calls from Stephens— even this weekend. Insisted he had to talk with her."

  Matt jogged his memory. "The one who was fired? Where'd he work?"

  Finn shuffled through papers until he found the employee list. "Go figure— the warehouse."

  "There was nothing else on her laptop? No red flags?"

  "Nothing unusual. Her history looked typical. No weird communications, no unusual web sites, no viruses. No spyware. No tracking software."

  Resolutely, he shifted gears. Maybe they'd missed something— or maybe something would feel different this time. Context was everything. As pieces of an investigation fell into place, facts could change based on new information.

  "Why did Matias leave the laptop?" Finn's voice jarred him back to the present. Apparently, he'd been doing the same thing.

  "It's like leaving jewelry behind," Sherm piped in. "Greed says you take it."

  "Maybe he wanted something specific."

  "Munoz went to her hotel after he tried to get her at the hospital, right?" Finn checked the dates.

  Matt nodded. "No way Matias could anticipate Julie's amnesia. He had to assume she would remember everything— where she'd been and who she'd been with."

  "So Viper orders him to take her out at the hospital."

  "But Matt screws that up and Munoz has to report back that he failed again," Sherm concluded.

  "Did Viper send him to her hotel room?" Finn snapped his gum in agitation. "Or did Munoz go on his own?"

  "By that point, Matias has to be running scared. He knew he was finished." Matt mentally scrolled back to the hotel surveillance tape. Five minutes. What had Munoz accomplished in five minutes?

  "Which leads to the original question— why leave her stuff in the room?" Sherm scratched his head. "You go to the room— you're searchin' for something or you're cleaning up— getting rid of any evidence that points to you."

  "Unless you've already planted enough evidence to point somewhere else," Matt muttered. "If you've set someone up to take the fall— you could be leaving a trail."

  "But there was nothing incriminating on the laptop," Finn reminded. "No guns in her room. No drugs. Nothing that shouldn't have been there."

  What were they missing?

  "Unless-" Finn's voice trailed off as shifted in his seat, turning to stare at the laptop.

  Matt experienced a sudden singe of awareness. The laptop. The answer was in his hands. How long would it have taken to plant a locator in it?

  Holding a hand up, he stopped Finn from speaking. Scrambling for a piece of paper, he scrawled the words 'locator' and 'microphone' on it before passing it to the front seat.

  Cursing, Finn jammed restless fingers through fiery hair. "I should've thought of that last night. I didn't take the friggin' thing apart."

  "Five minutes." Planting the tracking device that would lead straight to Julie. Or better— keep tabs on the cops. Viper could remain one step ahead of them because he was hearing them in real time.

  A long dormant sensation crawled down his nerve endings and he glanced to the rear-view mirror. His pulse ricocheted with the familiar drumbeat that had kept him relatively unscathed during a decade of getting shot at. Matt scanned the traffic behind them, searching for the elusive vehicle he knew instinctively was back there . . . somewhere.

  "Tank— we may have company."

  ***

  The protection detail was exposed. Unwilling to risk Julie's safety by pulling off to deal with the laptop issue, Matt zipped it back into the case, then proceeded to smother it under piles of jackets in the rear of the van. They would still be tracked, but unless the mic was high level military grade, anyone on the receiving end would have trouble hearing anything but static. But the damage had already been done.

  Finn adjusted his side mirror. "White pickup . . . five cars back." Matt wondered how long the tail had been with them. Christ. Probably since they'd left Marsh Point.

  "Sherm— get Mullaney on the radio. Tell him we've got company. We're gonna need to change our plans." Again.

  Moments later, he heard the old man's gravelly voice. "Copy that. I'm watching. Tell Magic we've got other issues."

  Matt raised his gaze to the ceiling. "What now?"

  "Jonas called. He found the warehouse owner." Mullaney paused. "I'm startin' to think you were right last night-"

  "Let me guess," he muttered. "Julie owns the warehouse."

  The charged silence inside the van lasted several seconds before Mullaney broke the quiet. "It just doesn't add up. We've been after Viper for two yea
rs. If he was this careless, we'd have caught him a long time ago."

  He studiously avoided Finn's eyes. Though he agreed with Mullaney's assessment, there was no way in hell he'd try to defend Julie— not when the rookie had practically accused him of being compromised.

  After a lengthy pause, O'Brien's sigh was one of aggravation. "No one is that stupid."

  "There's more," Mullaney announced. "Dandridge's firm handled the sale. Looks like she purchased it about eighteen months ago."

  "That would've been right after her father passed away." A charge jolted through him as he remembered their conversation. For the first time in days, certainty pumped through his veins. They were on the right track. "She said when her father died, Dandridge handled all the clean-up details." Sifting through the pile on the seat next to him, he unearthed his notes. "She mentioned him selling a warehouse, not buying one."

  "Jonas said he'd scan the documents and email them from the courthouse. But he specifically said Julie bought the warehouse," he emphasized, "not KTec."

  The van fell to startled silence over the revelation. Dandridge. Lambeth. Griggs. Julie. Was one of them Viper? Had they been in it together? One of them smart enough to plan ahead— making sure the others took the fall?

  "Another thing-" Mullaney's gravelly voice broke the silence. "Tori's definitely back at work. Mojo's tracking calls in and out of KTec. She says there've been nine calls back and forth between Dandridge and Tori Stansky over the past two days."

  Matt digested the information. "That could be because Julie's out of town. She said Tori handles everything when she's not there."

  "Or it could be because Julie didn't show up today," Finn suggested. "Julie never called in. According to the receptionist, that was a huge deal. Maybe Tori is seeking counsel from the next person up the ladder."

  "I'm not a huge believer in coincidence," Matt muttered. He caught Sherm's eye in the mirror.

  "Dandridge is a huge player in Boston. Everyone knows him or knows of him." Mullaney's sigh was audible. "We'll be walking a friggin' tightrope not to step on any political toes. This guy's connected to every high level asshole in town."