Exposed Target, page 23
She sighed. “I can’t help but feel badly for Natalia. Every bit of Oleg’s anger is now on her.”
“Natalia dealt her own hand, Ciara.” Beck spoke firmly. “She made her own choices and her own mistakes.”
For a long moment, Ciara remained silent. Beck hadn’t been in the room when Oleg had murdered Natalia’s lover and casually told her that he had ordered Niko to be killed and what he’d done to her parents.
“Niko and Natalia were close,” Ciara said slowly. “The devastation she feels at all her losses is unfathomable to me.”
“The most I can say is that our source tells us Oleg knows Natalia has the broach,” Beck said. “And he believes she destroyed his yacht with the fire.”
Ciara narrowed her brows. “I bet that monster, Vadim, did it.”
“I think you’re right. Vadim probably told Oleg that Natalia started the fire.” Beck went on, “The fact he is certain Natalia has the broach takes the rest of the heat off you.”
Ciara hesitated. “If I had to go back into WITSEC and leave you…I don’t know that I could do it.”
“I would go into the program with you.” Beck stroked her cheek with his fingertip. “You are too much a part of me to let you go alone.”
She shifted and raised her head so that she could meet his eyes. “You would go into witness protection for me?”
“Yes.” He stroked her hair. “I might have swept you off to a foreign country, just to keep you safe.”
“That would have been interesting.” She grinned. “Like a hut in the jungle?”
Beck laughed and touched his finger to her nose. “I was thinking something more like a villa in Spain.”
“Now you’re talking.” She rested her head against his chest again. “Although leaving Mamá behind wouldn’t have been an option.”
“Isabella would have been with us in WITSEC or in Spain,” Beck said. “I would have and will always keep you and her safe.”
“Safe is a good word.” Ciara breathed in the scent of his T-shirt just out of the dryer and filled her lungs with him. “I feel so secure with you.”
“That’s because you are.” Beck kissed the top of her head and felt the silkiness of her hair sliding through his fingers as he stroked her hair.
Thoughts of all that had happened never stopped turning in his mind. The USMS had been hacked by an elite Russian group, and information critical to the U.S. Marshals Service had been compromised. That was how they’d located Ciara. Once that link had been discovered, the agency had been taking steps to make sure it never happened again.
As for Natalia, Beck hadn’t told Ciara that Reno had called him the day after everything happened to report he was hot on Natalia’s trail. If anyone could find her, it would be Reno.
Beck couldn’t share work details with anyone outside of the service, and that included the woman he loved. Fortunately, Ciara understood this and didn’t ask him questions he couldn’t answer. Natalia was one of those topics.
The FBI wanted Natalia for questioning for the murder of a deputy marshal, attempted murder of a deputy marshal and Ciara, and the kidnapping of Ciara’s mother and the caregiver.
Natalia Sokolov was a fugitive from the law. Once the USMS captured her, the law entitled her to a trial by jury, but it didn’t look good.
“How is Gary?” Ciara’s heart hurt when she asked. She liked Gary a lot. He was one of the good guys.
Beck shook his head. “He just started treatment, so it will be some time before we know.”
She nodded. He was a good man, and she hoped he beat the colon cancer.
“Are you still planning on visiting your parents next month?” she asked.
He gave a heavy sigh. “Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.”
She smiled. “That’s the way it works.”
“However,” he said with a smile. “If you’ll go, it’ll make the trip much better.”
“I would love to.” She brushed hair from her cheek. “Sally should have the baby by then.”
“Yes,” Beck said. “If you’re up for it, we can head up to Green Bay and see her and the little one.”
“Absolutely.” Ciara nodded. “Can Ella go?”
“Of course,” Beck said. “She’s family.”
“Have I told you just how much I love you?”
“I want to show you two things,” he said. “Hold out your hand and close your eyes.”
She immediately obeyed.
When the metal and cloth object touched her palm, she knew exactly what it was. She opened her eyes and grinned. “Mamá’s pendant. You did get it out of the safe deposit box in Colorado Springs.” The older pendant’s bright colors had never ceased to delight her.
“Now for the second thing.” Beck got to his feet, bringing Ciara with him. “You know that project I’ve had going on?”
“The one you keep covered and won’t let me see in the corner of the backyard?” She tilted her head to look at him. “You’re finally going to tell me what you’re doing?”
“Yep.” He rested his good hand on her shoulder. “Finished it this morning, while you were at the grocery store.”
She slipped the pendant into her pocket. With Ella following, they stepped out of the house into the warm sunshine, a short break in the week of storms. Another one was on the way in.
“Feel that sun on your face and the wind on your cheeks?” he asked.
“And the smell of rain.” She smiled. “I love it here. I love the weather and the countryside. It’s wonderful.”
He squeezed her to him. “I’m glad you do.”
“Whatever you’re going to show me is still boarded up.” She glanced at him. “Must be super-secret.”
He laughed. “Super-super-secret.”
“You have had my curiosity up for a week now.” They reached the boarded-off area. “Now you will reveal a masterpiece?”
He flashed her a grin. “Something like that.”
She watched as he moved aside the wood hiding the corner of the lot.
An arched trellis, covered with vines, stood over a rounded wrought iron and wood door in front of her, with a rock wall stretching from either side of it so that the corner of the lot was blocked off in a triangle.
Her heart beat a little faster as he opened the door, and she caught her breath as she walked inside.
A flower garden. It was filled with pots of red geraniums; a bed of pansies in a rainbow of colors; a parade of pink, red, and white impatiens; apricot, yellow, pink, red, and white begonias; a swath of gold, yellow, and orange marigolds, and so many more flowers she lost track in that one sweep of her gaze.
A Pagoda Dogwood, a Sweetbay Magnolia tree, and an Eastern Redbud tree were planted on the fringes of the garden. Bird feeders filled with seeds, and hummingbird feeders full of sugar water, hung from tree branches.
At the center, a five-foot-tall fountain gurgled into a basin. A wrought iron bench had been placed near the fountain and she saw two more benches amongst the flowers and trees.
Eyes wide and lips parted in surprise, Ciara tuned to Beck.
“Like it?” he asked with a grin.
“I love it.” She could barely breathe. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s yours.” He smiled. “Your own secret garden.”
Warmth swept over her skin. “You made this for me?”
He nodded. “I take it you like it?”
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe you remembered.”
“How could I not?” He settled his hands on her hips. “You mean the world to me, and I wanted to give you something that would brighten yours.”
“You already brighten my world.” She smiled up at him, hoping he could see how true that was in her gaze. She grasped his hand and led him to the bench to the side of the fountain. “It smells heavenly in here. This whole place has so much wonderful, positive energy.”
Ella bounded ahead, a big doggy smile on her face as she rolled in the grass around the fountain.
Ciara sat and Beck eased onto the bench beside her. They held hands as she drank in the wonderful garden and the black lab nosed butterflies on daisies. No one had ever done something on this scale of incredible for her.
“It’s magic,” she said as she kept looking at the place, finding something new with every place she perused a little more.
“How about a vacation?” Beck asked as he wrapped her hair around his fingers.
She grinned at him. “I could vacation here all summer.”
“I have something else in mind.” Beck slid his fingers from her hair and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a packet from a travel agency and handed it to Ciara.
She smiled. “Really? Where?”
He nodded toward the packet. “Go on and read.”
She opened the packet. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Spain? You rented a villa in Spain?”
“Yep.” He grinned at her surprise and clear delight. “We leave in three days. Sound good to you?”
She shifted in his embrace and twisted as she straddled him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She gave him a long, deep kiss, and he groaned with need for his woman. “I can’t wait.”
He brought her closer and she snuggled to his chest. Life couldn’t get any better than having Ciara in his arms.
27
The Zvezda Rossii sparkled, each brilliant facet catching the lamp’s warm light as a storm raged outside.
The storms had continued for a week now, letting up only once before another rolled in.
Inside, a storm had gone on for her entire life.
Had she ever known a moment’s peace?
Natalia let the broach with its brilliant diamonds sit in her palm as she sat cross-legged on the hotel bed. She’d taken to staying at obscure, cheap places that didn’t require ID or a credit card.
Her life had forever changed, and she didn’t know if she would ever live a wealthy lifestyle again. She didn’t know that she wanted to.
She might have screwed up in countless ways over the course of her life, but she had prepared for a time where she might need financial backup. Long ago, she had set up a bank account in the Caymans and another in Zurich. She had always carried one-hundred-dollar bills, twenty to thirty of them minimum. The habit came from a lifetime of knowing things could change on a dime.
And they had.
At least she’d gotten that right.
Of course, Yuri had forced her to leave her purse at the mansion, so she’d had nothing when she’d stepped on the yacht.
When she had taken the broach and left the deputy marshal and Ciara, Natalia had hurried to her stateroom. She had taken everything she had in her safe, including the ownership papers for the broach that she hadn’t turned over to her uncle.
Natalia looked at the cash beside her on the bed. At least twenty thousand dollars. Not nearly enough to do all she needed to.
She turned back to the broach with its stunning red diamond.
Mesmerized by the unbelievably rare gem at the center, she ran her finger over the stone. A tingling sensation ran up and down her spine, reminding her of the Zvezda Rossii’s rich and deadly history.
She had stolen it two years ago from the foolish billionaire lottery winner.
Had it been at the cost of her soul?
Now her uncle hunted her. The bastard who had taken everyone she loved and murdered each one. Maybe not by his own hand, but he might as well have.
Family is everything…
And now she had no one.
The Sokolovs would have killed to obtain the Zvezda Rossii but hadn’t had to when she’d taken it from Pete Taylor.
Natalia had enough cash to buy new documents, including a Belarusian passport. Now she just needed to change her appearance enough to fool facial recognition software. It had to be possible since moviemakers changed appearances all the time—even turning actors into monsters. She had researched places where they could do such a thing and she had an appointment late this evening. She only went out after dark. At least for now.
Natalia slid the broach into its pouch. It belonged in the Diamond Fund, an impressive museum in Moscow, not in the hands of some wealthy bastard, like her uncle or the lottery winner. She would put behind glass the one thing Oleg treasured more than anything or anyone else. It would mock him.
She would find a way to get to Russia and present it to the Diamond Fund with the ownership papers.
After she had taken care of every loose thread, she might then find peace.
Is peace even possible?
She picked up the gun from her lap.
Maybe it was.
EXCERPT: HIDDEN PREY
1
The nightmare had been so damned real. Landon Walker sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes bleary and his head aching like a mother. He had to stop trying to find peace at the bottom of a bottle of Jack D, because it only made him feel like hell the next morning. Didn’t matter what he did, because he didn’t think he’d ever have peace again.
His dream had replayed every last detail of that night when a hit-and-run drunk driver had sideswiped Landon’s motorcycle, sending Stacy flying and pinning him beneath the wreckage. A helmet and protective gear hadn’t been enough to save her. After he’d managed to get out from beneath the motorcycle, he’d crawled to her, dragging his shattered leg. He could still feel her broken body in his arms.
He ran his hand down his face, the stubble and scar along one cheekbone rough against his callused palm. Fourteen months to the day Stacy had died in the accident, an accident that had been his fault.
Would he ever stop marking time by the date of his fiancée’s death?
He turned his head to look at the alarm clock and winced from the pain the sudden movement caused. Damn. He’d be late if he didn’t get his ass out of bed. He didn’t work some punch-the-clock forty-hour workweek. But Mondays still sucked.
Early Monday mornings he used to play basketball with a bunch of guys who were in law enforcement. On Friday nights, those who weren’t working usually played poker. But after the accident, Landon had pulled away from everything but his job. He still worked out—sometimes excessively—in the fitness room in his home. Not only to stay fit but because the strenuous activity burned off excess anger at himself and sometimes at the world.
With his head still aching, he stepped under ice-cold water in the shower in an attempt to wake up. He braced his hand against the smooth white tiles, his head lowered, goosebumps prickling his skin when he let the water flow over him. He kept the water cold as he washed his hair and soaped his body. When he’d finished, he shut off the water and shook his head, droplets flying before he toweled himself off.
The cold shower had done its job and he felt marginally better by the time he pushed open the shower stall’s glass door. He might just make it through today after all. Last month had been the first month he hadn’t taken flowers to Stacy’s grave. For the first year, he’d visited once a month on the date of her death, but after a year, he’d made the decision to move on to save his sanity. Damned if he knew how.
After he’d dressed in jeans and a faded blue T-shirt, he jammed his Colt .45 into its holster on his belt. He slipped on a white overshirt to cover his weapon then stood in his kitchen and wolfed down a breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs. He stuck the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and headed out.
A light morning breeze slid over his skin when he climbed into his charcoal-gray Ford Explorer. He stuffed his key into the ignition and started the vehicle. He headed down the dirt road leaving his ranch and continued onto the paved road that would take him to Douglas.
He had just enough time to make it to the office and take care of a few things prior to heading to Bisbee to meet with his man who’d been working deep undercover. He’d make the twenty-five-mile drive from his ranch in Sulfur Springs Valley to Douglas and to DHS’s ICE office in twenty minutes.
Landon had served as a special agent with the Department of Homeland Security’s Immigration and Customs Enforcement Agency for eleven years now and had given himself completely to his career since Stacy’s death. He’d always been married to the job and he regretted not being there for Stacy more. Now he lived and breathed his work. What the hell else did he have? The job would take his soul one day and he didn’t plan to fight it.
At the office, he spent some time going over aspects of the case he’d been working for months. The Jimenez Cartel’s tentacles reached far from Mexico, into Arizona. When they chopped off one arm, another grew to replace it. The cartel had to be cut off at its head. No other way would stop or even slow the activities of the organization that dealt in drugs, death, destruction.
They had to get to Diego Montego Jimenez, known as El Demonio to everyone around him. The Demon. The nickname for the bastard fit him like a glove.
Landon headed out of the office in the early afternoon. On his way out, he saw Dylan Curtis, another DHS special agent and one of Landon’s good friends. At six-three, Dylan stood a good two inches taller than Landon. He wore a Stetson over his dark hair and his ice-blue eyes were appraising as always.
Dylan paused in front of the entrance. Landon stopped too. “When are you going to join the boys for basketball again?” Dylan mimed going up for a shot. “Had some good games this morning. You need to show up and get your ass back in it.”
Landon shrugged. He probably should—one more step toward returning to his life as it had been before.
“This leg isn’t what it used to be.” Landon rubbed his leg that had been shattered in the accident.
“Who gives a shit?” Dylan questioned. “Monday mornings, same time, same place as it’s always been. Bring the bum leg.”
Landon nodded. “I just might be there next Monday.”
“You’d better or I’m gonna kick your ass.” Dylan hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “And don’t forget poker this Friday night. It’s time you rejoined the living and you might as well go all in.”
