Authors: Bianca D' Arc

Dead Alert (8 page)

BOOK: Dead Alert

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It was the first time Sam had gotten to use the outdoor grill and he enjoyed getting it going. John had brought a couple of cold cans of beer out onto the patio along with a few dishes and utensils for the steaks. They were almost ready when the doorbell rang. Instantly, both men went on alert.

Sam shot John a quick look and he knew John would circle around front through the shrubbery while Sam went back inside to answer the bell. They’d both be ready if trouble had come to Sam’s door.

Sam took a look through the peephole and his alert level dropped while his concern grew. He opened the door. It was Emily. She looked nervous and a bit embarrassed.

“What can I do for you, captain?” He liked calling her that as both a reminder of her position of authority over him and therefore his mission, and because he thought it was cute that she outranked him.

“I’m sorry to bother you on your day off but I think maybe you might have dropped this in the cockpit and I thought I’d return it to you in case you needed it. The cleaning crew found it this morning.” She held out her palm, on which was laying a small black cell phone.

What to do? The phone wasn’t his but it might contain information that could help his mission. It was clearly a burn phone—one that had been bought pre-paid, likely for cash, and was therefore pretty much untraceable. He recognized the logo of one of the many pre-paid cellular companies that specialized in that market.

He wanted to know what calls that phone had made before it had been either discarded or lost. Or maybe it had been placed in that cockpit as a way for someone else to communicate with one of the pilots. Whatever the case, he really wanted to know what might be on the memory chip of that little black box.

But in order to do so, he’d have to claim it. Worst case scenario, it belonged to one of the other pilots and had been innocently lost. Questions would be raised if the other pilot was looking for it and Sam claimed it now. Or worse, this could be a test, and claiming the phone would condemn Sam in Emily’s eyes. He didn’t want that. He needed to buy some time.

A quick, nearly imperceptible hand signal had John moving out of cover, a set of keys in his hand as if he’d come from his car. He walked right up to the door, distracting Emily as intended.

“It wasn’t in the car,” he said. Sam easily picked up the story.

“You should check your bag again, dude. Sorry, Emily, this is an old friend of mine. John, this is Emily. He’s in town for a few hours. We were grilling some steaks out on the patio. Why don’t you join us? There’s enough for three.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose.”

“No imposition, ma’am,” John said smoothly, turning on the charm. “In fact, a pretty lady like you will brighten the place up. Don’t leave us by ourselves.” The exaggerated puppy dog face made her laugh and Sam could see she was going to relent.

Good. He had a few minutes to sort out his response to the phone question. With John’s help, he might be able to get a look at the phone without claiming it.

“If you’re sure,” Emily said softly. This was the first time Sam had seen her hesitate. In the air and in the hangar, she was a take charge kind of woman. Here, in his temporary home, she seemed shy and reluctant to intrude.

“Come on in,” he insisted, opening the door wide so she could squeeze in under his arm. He could’ve moved back to let her enter but he wanted the moment of closeness. He wanted to breathe in her delicate scent and feel the warmth of her body as she passed close to his.

Once she’d gone in, he moved behind her, letting John secure the door after himself.

“Come out to the patio. I left the grill unattended.”

He passed her and led the way out to the small backyard. She seemed interested in his home in a purely domestic way. He’d had women check out his bachelor pad before but where most of his previous encounters left him with a feeling of being stalked like prey, this time he wished he could show Emily his real home, not this impersonal rental.

“Nice yard,” she commented as he picked up the tongs and saw to the meat.

“Thanks.” Sam eyed the cell phone. He really wanted to know what secrets it might hold, but he had to play it cool.

John saved him from having to make more small talk by reentering with another place setting and a cold beer.

“Sam has some soft drinks in the fridge if you’d rather have that,” John said, holding the beer can up questioningly.

Emily took it from him with a friendly grin. “No, this’ll taste good on a warm day like today. Thanks.”

“How do you like your steak?” Sam asked. “These are already heading toward medium. If you want rare, speak up quick.”

“Medium well sounds good. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, ma’am. Sit back and relax. We’ll do the work,” John was quick to volunteer as he set the plates next to Sam by the grill. That done, he took a seat at the patio table across from Emily. “So let’s see that cell phone you found. It’s not yours, is it Sammy?”

Finally, some action. Sam took his cue from the CIA operative. No doubt John had a plan.

“Not mine,” Sam readily agreed as Emily put it on the table.

John picked it up and started pushing buttons. “I’m a tech guy. Maybe I can figure out who owns this little fellow.”

“I tried, but I didn’t recognize any of the numbers and there aren’t any names saved in the memory.” Emily watched what John was doing but she probably couldn’t see much from her vantage point.

“I see that,” John agreed, a frown wrinkling his brow as he continued to push buttons. “Maybe I could look up some of these numbers on the laptop.” His words trailed off and John stood as if preoccupied and went into the house, taking the phone with him. He was smooth. He didn’t give Emily a chance to object.

John was inside for a few minutes longer than was strictly necessary but Sam distracted Emily by serving up the steaks. By the time he had everything laid out on the table, John was back, his absent minded professor act firmly in place. Sam had to give him credit. He was very convincing.

John brought Sam’s laptop outside with him and proceeded to type up a storm while Emily and Sam began to eat. Sam suspected a lot of what John was doing was just for show but he could just as easily have been sending the numbers from the memory of the phone to the team at the same time.

“Do you know anybody named Jose Vargos?” John finally asked.

Emily’s eyes widened as she swallowed a sip of her beer. “He’s one of the new mechanics. He joined the company about three months ago.”

“Well there you go. It’s probably his phone. His home number was the last one called.” John handed the black rectangle back to her with a funny little grin on his face.

“That’s amazing. How did you find that information? I tried looking up the last number but it came up unlisted.”

John’s grin widened as he sat back in his seat. “I have my ways.”

Sam threw a scrunched up napkin at John’s head, getting into the spirit of their cover story. They were supposed to be old friends. In reality, they’d only been working together a short time. Still, Sam thought he knew enough about the other man to call him a friend.

“Johnny’s a tech geek.”

“I’d say he’s a tech wizard.” Emily looked both impressed and curious.

“It’s how I make my living, ma’am,” John supplied smoothly. “I’m an IT consultant.”

“IT?” she asked.

“Information technology. Computer stuff,” John clarified as he dug into his steak.

“Funny. I would’ve pegged you for a soldier.” Emily was looking down at her plate so she didn’t catch the significant look that passed between John and Sam.

“Well, I was a soldier. Once upon a time. Uncle Sam trained me to use computers and a rifle at about the same time. I guess you never lose that military bearing, eh?” He kept his tone carefully light.

“Something like that,” she agreed. “So is that where you two met? In the service?”

Sam was content to let John handle the cover story. He was better at lying than Sam was. He’d had way more practice as a CIA operative.

“No ma’am. I’m a Marine. I didn’t mix with Army dogs.”

Emily looked puzzled. “Don’t you mean you
were
a Marine? You’re not still in the service now, are you?”

“No, ma’am. I retired some time ago but once a Marine, always a Marine. I’ll consider myself a jarhead until the day I die.”

“
Semper fi
. Isn’t that the expression?” She smiled at him over her half-empty beer.

“Yes, ma’am.” He raised his beer can in salute and they had a toast. “
Semper fidelis
. Always faithful.”

They drank to the Marine motto and Sam was relieved to see that any suspicion that had been in Emily’s expression was gone. At least for now. The CIA boy was a grand master at selling a cover story, that was for certain.

“If you don’t get a move on, you’re going to be
always late
,” Sam teased. It was about time John took his leave.

Sam was looking forward to a little private time with Emily, here in his temporary home where they’d be on equal footing. On the job, she was definitely in charge. Here, it was different.

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever hoped for, but he wanted whatever time he could get with Emily. He wasn’t thinking with his head, but something a little farther down, inside his chest . . . something that beat harder at the mere mention of her name.

Other things got harder too, but he tried his best to ignore those baser instincts for now. He had to keep his priorities clear. The investigation came first, Emily second. He’d done what he could for the mission today already. Now there was time to see how far Emily would take him and how far she’d let him go.

John left without much more ado, promising to call in a couple of days. To anyone, they sounded like old buddies who liked to keep in touch. To be honest, it felt that way too. In the short time Sam had known John Petit, he’d come to respect him and felt the bonds of friendship forming between them. Given half a chance, they could be lifelong friends.

Of course, neither one of them might live very long. Not on this mission. That stark reminder hit Sam square between the eyes as he closed the door behind John. Emily hadn’t tried too hard to leave, though she’d made the token protest about letting Sam get on with his evening. It hadn’t taken much to convince Emily to stay for a nightcap and a short discussion of their upcoming flight plans.

Both of them knew they didn’t have all that much to discuss as far as the job went. The routes they’d take were well established and the only changes that would occur would happen right before takeoff and depended on the whims of the customer or possible bad weather patterns.

Emily had finished her beer with dinner and opened another one that she was sipping slowly. There was no doubt in Sam’s mind that the small amount of alcohol had worked to lower a few of her inhibitions and brought out a bit of a wild streak, if he wasn’t mistaken. Emily was looking at him with an intensity he found hard to ignore as he rejoined her on the patio.

It was early evening, just starting to get dark. He turned on the bug zapper and lit a string of patio lights that lent the place a festive yet intimate atmosphere. He couldn’t have planned it better himself if he’d decorated the condo.

He took a seat next to her on the extra wide lounger meant for two people. They’d abandoned the patio table around which they’d eaten dinner after clearing the plates away and moved over to the lounge area. There was a small fire pit in the center that he didn’t bother lighting. It was too warm and the twinkling patio lights were enough ambience for now.

Emily didn’t move away when he sat next to her. In fact, she snuggled into him when he raised his arm to wrap it around her. She fit next to him as if she’d been made to go there. That stray thought was both unsettling and kind of nice.

“You know, Em, I really enjoy working with you.”

“I like working with you too,” she said softly, her head resting against his shoulder.

“But I like you like this even more.”

“Like what?” She tried to look up at him but he preempted her by moving downward, capturing her lips with his for a smoldering kiss that hinted at the passion that lay beneath the banked flames.

When he pulled away, her eyes were half closed in pleasure and her expression was dreamy. It only made him hotter.

“Like you want me to kiss you again,” he belatedly answered her question.

“I do want you to kiss me again.” Her voice was a drug to his already heightened senses.

“Are you absolutely certain? It’s not the alcohol talking? I don’t want you to regret this in the morning.” He drew closer, his lips nearing hers as their voices dropped to breathy whispers.

“I haven’t had that much and the only thing I’ll really regret is if you stop now. Ride on, Sir Galahad.”

He chuckled even as his lips moved a breath away from hers. “I’m nobody’s knight in shining armor.”

BOOK: Dead Alert

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