Cat's Paw (Veritas Book 1) (27 page)

“Your fault. You ignored the road signs that say not to stop for hitchhikers.”

“So that’s why they were there,” she said, shifting her hips.

His body responded, not ready to end this lovemaking session. Not wanting it to ever end.

“I want you again,” he said.

“I’m yours, for as long as we’ve got.”

Morgan felt him harden inside of her, felt that strength touching her core. Once again she made love to him. His fingers touched where they were joined, stroking her, bringing her closer to orgasm.

“Come for me, baby. Just for me.”

As if he’d broken something loose inside her, she did come, hard and long. It felt like the orgasm would never end. When he joined her, their cries mingled together.

As the pleasure ebbed, she curled up next to him. He stroked her hair. She wanted this every morning, every evening. It was time to admit that.

“I love you, Alex.”

He blinked open his eyes, startled. “Really?”

“Color me just as confused as you about this.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. The Parkin Luck has returned.”

“Let’s hope it hangs in there for a bit longer.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

When Alex stepped off the boat, he turned to help his sister down onto the dock. He didn’t need to—she was quite capable of that—but he wanted to touch her, to reassure her. He needed Miri to know that he wasn’t being suicidal.

“Monkey . . . ”

“Listen, bro, I get that you have to do this and all, but dying on me now is a bad plan. Who knows what stupid stuff I might do if I’m on my own,” she said, glaring up at him. “I might join a biker gang or—”

He hugged her tight, feeling her shivering in his arms. “Or you might do really cool stuff, because that’s the kind of woman you are.”

“You come back to me. Don’t you leave me now. I couldn’t handle it,” she said, tears wetting his collar.

“I’ll try not to. I have too much to live for now.”

Lars and a sedan awaited them. The Iceman asked about a sniper rifle and got a nod in return.

“In the trunk,” Lars said. “Just like you specified.”

“Thanks, man,” Neil said, taking the car keys. “Let Sanjay know the boat’s got some holes in it. I sent him the coordinates for the Zodiac already.”

“You’re hard on stuff, my friend,” Lars said.

Neil slapped him on the back. “Tell me about it.”

He slid into the driver’s seat. Miri joined him on the passenger side, not a word said between them. So much for Alex’s hope that his sister would stay away from whatever was going down at Buryshkin’s house. He didn’t bother to try to change her mind—stubbornness ran in their blood.

He joined Morgan in the backseat, taking hold of her hand. There was no need for talk; everything that needed to be said had passed between them when they’d been one.

The trip to Buryshkin’s house went too fast, and too slow. Alex wanted more time with Morgan and his sister. He wanted this over. When they turned into the driveway that led to the house, they were stopped by a quartet of grim-faced DEA agents. Once they were cleared, Neil took them up the drive to a cluster of official vehicles located about two hundred yards away from the grand front balcony.

Agent Fredd was having a terse argument with Agent Weston; Alex could tell she was barely holding back her temper. Seeing him and Morgan, she waved them over.

“I don’t trust this bastard,” Weston said, jerking his thumb toward Alex. “He has no reason to be here.”

“But I
am
here, so let’s get this done.”

“Why? I heard he was screwing your wife.”

“Old news, dude,” Alex said. “I got my own lady now, so I don’t care.” He winked over at Morgan, and she returned it, her way of telling him he’d come a long way since the day she’d first met him on that highway.

Agent Fredd pushed a number and handed over the phone. “They’re using the hostage as the go-between.”

“Jolly,” Alex said.

“About damned time you got here,” Dennis said, his voice more highly pitched than usual. “Buryshkin is getting antsy. You get your ass in here, or they’re going to put a bullet in my head.”

“Tell the old fart to take a chill pill,” Alex replied. “I’m coming in, and I’m unarmed. If he doesn’t want this house burned down around his ass, tell him not to be stupid.”

He ended the call before Dennis could answer, and handed off the phone. “How many guards are inside the house?” he asked.

“None,” Fredd replied.

“What?” Morgan blurted.

“None alive, at least. There are a few bodies outside, but we’re only picking up three heat signatures inside, probably Dennis and the Buryshkins.” Fredd sighed. “This whole thing feels hinky.”

“You think?” Morgan said. “Buryshkin never does anything without a full contingent of bodyguards.”

“Which means it might not be him in control of the situation,” Alex said. “This feels more like Anya’s doing than his.”

“How did they get ahold of Simms?” Morgan asked.

“I have no idea. We weren’t going to execute the Buryshkin’s warrant until this afternoon. And no, Dennis did not know about that,” Fredd added.

“He found out somehow,” Alex said. “So, did he come out here to tell his boss, or did they just snag him off the street?”

“Why the hell would he tell the Russian?” Weston demanded.

“Because he’s the one who planted the coke to send me to prison.”

“That’s—”

“The truth,” Morgan said. “Buryshkin told us himself.”

“You’re shitting me,” the agent replied. Weston and Dennis had been pretty tight at one time, but the man’s surprise looked genuine. Maybe he was still his own man.

“Frankly, if he comes out of there in a body bag, I’m not going to weep,” Alex said, “but if I can get all three of them out of there alive, that’d be better. Then I can enjoy the Buryshkins spending the rest of their lives in prison.”

“Good luck with that,” Fredd said. “For the record, I never believed you were dirty.”

Alex smiled at her, then eyeballed Agent Weston. “Thanks. At least there’s one of you.”

In the end, he refused the offer of a tactical vest. No real point. All it would take was a head shot and he’d be worm food. As Alex moved past the line of DEA vehicles, heading toward the house, Morgan caught his arm.

Not caring that they had an audience, she pulled him close and gave him a kiss. There were wolf whistles and hoots, but they ignored them. When it ended, Alex touched her face with reverence. How quickly he’d come to love this woman.

“If things go bad, please take care of my sister. That’s all I ask.”

“Crispin promised he would,” Morgan said. “I’ll be coming with you.”

“What? The hell you are.”

“You think I’m going to stay out here, wondering what they’re doing to you, if you’re wounded or dead? Not happening. This thing between us isn’t just one way. I’m there with you, or you’re not going.”

“Morgan, please don’t—”

“Alex,
this
is the way it’s going to be. If you don’t like it, after this is over you go your own way. But right now, I’m at your side.”

He stared at her, astounded. “Jesus, you are hardheaded.”

She grinned at him.

“I love you,” he added.

“And I love you,” she replied. “Now let’s go bag ourselves some big, bad Russians so we can get back to the important stuff.”

He laughed, and they set off, walking toward the house at an even pace, as if this were a date. She squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture.

More time. We just need more time together.

When they reached the stairs, they climbed up to the second level. At the double doors that led into the house, Morgan turned back toward the cars, the agents, and the guns.

“Lovely view,” she said. A second later, a buzz came from her pocket—Neil letting her know he was in place at the rear of the house, sniper rifle in hand.

“We’re coming in,” Alex shouted, then turned the doorknob and pushed open the twin doors. The interior of the house felt sticky, as if the air conditioning had been off for a while. Three ceiling fans moved the humidity as best as they could.

Alex and Morgan hadn’t been inside the house during their last visit. They the foyer empty except for a giant urn of flowers set on a pedestal and a guard’s body, his blood drying on the wooden floor. Curiously, the color matched a few of the roses in the bouquet.

“Think there’s been a coup?” Morgan asked.

“Real possible. But of the two, I’d rather deal with Buryshkin than his crazy-ass daughter,” Alex replied, keeping his voice low.

“Amen to that.”

The door at the end of the foyer was open. Alex led the way, his gut tight and his nerves strung out, his heart pounding so hard he could barely hear himself think. He entered the main room first, Morgan right behind. His eyes bounced over the occupants: Buryshkin, his daughter, Dennis. His brain did the math, and it didn’t add up.

“You’re freaking kidding me,” he said, shaking his head.

Dennis Simms wasn’t the hostage, he was the one with the gun. A few feet away, Anya and her father were on the couch, secured in zip ties, their feet bound. She had a gag in place, her eyes furious over the obstruction. Buryshkin’s mood was hard to read, but there was both anger and resignation in his cold eyes.

“What the hell is this?” Morgan demanded, looking back and forth between the Russians and their captor.

Simms frowned at her. “Why’d you bring her along, Parkin? Are you an idiot?”

Alex grumbled under his breath. “She insisted. Arguing with a woman is a lot like arguing with a solar flare. It’s a waste of time and always gets you roasted.”

Morgan shot his ex-partner a glower. “I don’t get it. Why claim to be a hostage?”

“To see what he’d do,” Dennis replied, the gun pointed at Alex now. “You surprised me. I didn’t figure you’d come in here to save my ass.”

“I surprised myself,” he replied. “So what’s the deal, Dennis?”

“This is suicide,” Buryshkin cut in. “I warned you what would happen if either of you crossed me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dennis replied. “You’re going to kill me. You know, I don’t fucking care anymore.”

His face was covered in beads of sweat, probably because he was wearing one of the DEA windbreakers, had it zipped up in a room that had passed ninety degrees a few hours ago.

What’s up with that?
Alex’s ex-partner appeared heavier than the last time he’d seen him, but he might be wearing a flak vest under the jacket. He took note of the man’s gray complexion, the haunted expression in his eyes.

He’s gone over the edge.

“So walk me through this, because I’m sure as hell confused,” Alex said.

Dennis looked at him with a shuttered expression. “You’re not as arrogant as you used to be. You never would have admitted that you didn’t understand something when you were at the agency.” He shifted positions, careful to keep his distance from them. “Smartass Alex Parkin, always right, always there for the glory.”

“I’ll admit to being a prick, but not to the glory.”

His ex-partner shrugged. “That’s how I saw it.”

“Doesn’t mean it was right. You still haven’t told me what’s up here.”

“These people—and I use that term very loosely—destroyed both of our lives.” Dennis gestured toward Morgan. “Hers, too. Yeah, I knew they had your husband by the balls. I saw the video of him and that girl.”

Morgan colored. “So let’s take them in. They’ll go down for life.”

Dennis shook his head. “Not good enough. I want payback. I figured you’d be good with that, old buddy.”

“Me? I want to see these assholes serve time.” He looked over at Buryshkin now. “Of course, with Mikhail watching your back, you’ll probably serve the full term. He’s very good at keeping people alive. I owe him. You, on the other hand, will come to hate that because it means every fucking day you’re still breathing and behind bars.”

“It will not happen,” the Russian said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, it will.” He turned his attention back to his ex-partner. “Why’d you screw my wife, Dennis?”

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “It just sorta happened. She’s . . . a beautiful woman. I wish we could have stayed together. I really liked her a lot.”

It appeared that Dennis had cared more for Alicia than he’d realized.

“It’s because of her you’re here. Once the coke was confiscated, that bitch,” Simms said, angling his head toward Anya, “wanted me to kidnap Alicia. She figured that would flush you out.”

It would have.
Even if he didn’t love her anymore. “So how did you get the better of them?”

“I had some good luck.” Dennis unzipped his coat with his free hand. The reason he looked heavier became apparent: He was wearing a suicide vest.

“Jesus Christ, are you nuts?” Alex said.

“Probably. You’d be surprised what a little outfit like this and a Taser can accomplish. Especially when I got here and found out that Anya’s guards had killed her daddy’s. Then it was just a matter of mopping up.”

Anya finally maneuvered her gag down, and outraged Russian spilled out.

“Pipe down, will you?” Alex said.

She shouted a single sentence at him.

“No!” he shouted. “
Y nikogda ne budet lapu kto-nibud koshku snova
.”

I will never be anyone’s cat’s paw again.

Anya spat at him. “You are no better than my father.” Buryshkin glowered at her now. “He refused to let me marry the man I loved, but I did anyway. Then he had Pietr killed.”

“
Ne pravda
,” her father said, shaking his head. “Not true.”

“I heard you killed him,” Morgan said to Anya, moving closer. “That you butchered him like a pig because he dared look at another woman.”

“You lie!” Anya said. “I will kill all of you. And your sister, Parkin, she will be a whore in a seraglio.”

Alex shook his head. “You had your crack at Miri. You were playing all of us. You knew I was working with your father, but you kept screwing with us. Had us confused for a time, but then we got it.” He smiled at them both. “All I want to see is your perp walk and the expressions on your faces when you’re sentenced to life in prison.”

“It will not happen,” Buryshkin repeated. “I own too many judges in this state.”

“You see why I like my solution better?” Dennis said. “They’ll get off. They’ll decide she’s a nutcase and bang her up in an asylum for a couple of years, and then she’ll be out to raise hell again. Him? I doubt he’ll even see the inside of a prison cell.”

Anya’s bizarre smile grew wider.

“Look, let’s call the bomb squad and get that thing off you,” Alex offered. “You can testify against them. It’ll work this time.”

“No. You see, I’ve been a flunky for these assholes for seven long years, and today I’m handing in my resignation.”

The man’s emotionless response told Alex that his ex-partner wasn’t expecting to come out of this alive.

“No need to go that far,” he said. “You’ll get the credit for the bust.”

“Not what I’m after. All I want is a chance to make it right,” Dennis replied solemnly.

“So how do we resolve this?” Morgan asked, her voice calm, though Alex could see the tension running through her body.

Dennis shook his head. “We don’t. I’d be sent to prison with them.” He looked over at Alex now. “I’m not like you. I’d die there. I don’t have the balls to tough it out.”