Deadly Testimony (6 page)

Problem was, the street was choked up with vehicle traffic and she was willing to bet the sidewalks were full of people rubbernecking to try to get a look at the accident. There was no way Decker had a clear line of sight to the entrance to the apartment building. If someone took shots at Weaver and Austin, they’d identified the mobile team as security. It was a distraction. And Decker, even if he wasn’t watching to see what happened to their police colleagues, wasn’t going to be able to visually clear every person on the street.

The situation was too unstable to remain where they were or follow standard procedure.

“Stay with me, be ready to get down,” she whispered over her shoulder without looking back at Kyle. She was busy making sure the stairwell remained clear.

There were a couple of possibilities. Their attackers might know exactly where Kyle was being hidden. So she was absolutely going to move him. Even if their mystery pursuers didn’t know Kyle’s specific location, they’d obviously made the mobile unit and, from their route, could identify which city block Weaver and Austin were circling. Smart assailants probably had a position high on top of one of the nearby buildings or in one of the apartments overlooking the street. Which meant they were far above the street and in good position to see Kyle if they managed to flush him out into the open.

She didn’t know if his attackers knew about her.

As she and Kyle reached the ground floor, she rummaged in her duffel bag. She came out with a wild red wig and handed it to him along with her baseball cap. He took it without arguing. She was going to have to gamble that they wouldn’t be able to visually identify Kyle if they caught sight of him.

Smart man.

As he pulled them on, she carefully looked out the window of the heavy fire door onto the street. It was only around the corner but it was on a different street from the main entrance. Up and down the street seemed clear and she couldn’t see any sign of a shooter in the windows of the apartments facing the street on this side. No telltale silhouettes or irregular lines along the tops of the buildings within view.

She took a deep breath, glanced at Kyle and bit the inside of her cheek to keep a straight face. The man looked ridiculous. But unless someone looked closely at his face, he wasn’t easily recognizable with the shock of red coming out from under the baseball cap. “Slouch. Drag your feet when we walk. Stay on my left as much as you can.”

It was a gamble to step out on the street. But their chances were worse staying in the building. And her gut instinct was screaming at her about all the things that hadn’t gone right in the space of a few hours. Time to be less predictable.

“Here we go.”

Chapter Seven

“Here, go into the bathroom and take off the wig. Swap the cap for this one. Change your shirt too but keep the undershirt. Toss all of the discards into the backpack. We might use them in different combinations later.”

Despite the strain of walking, not running, the past several blocks, Kyle smiled as he accepted the offered trilby. Isabelle was being absolutely serious. Perhaps she didn’t realize how ridiculous her demand sounded out of context, but he had to admire her focus. And he’d be more than happy to hand over the impromptu wig.

To her credit, she’d gotten him out of the building and quietly murmured instructions as she directed him into the crowded chaos of Pike Place Market. He thought she’d wanted him dead when she’d insisted he walk. They’d become lost in the press of people and come out on the other end of the market. Without her, he’d have bolted most likely.

“Why didn’t we run?” He’d been wondering the entire nerve-racking journey. Hadn’t asked because they were out in the open and the look in her eyes had threatened dire consequences if he stopped to ask questions.

They’d just entered a coffee shop tucked just below street level on First Street and she’d herded him toward the restroom. It seemed to be a recurring theme today.

“Quickest way to draw attention on a crowded street is to move at speed in the opposite direction of everyone else.” Isabelle answered him in a matter-of-fact tone, pitched low for only his ears. “So we walked. We went with the flow for a half block before breaking away in our own direction. Now change before anyone checks you out long enough to remember you the way you look now.”

The café was only half-full. The other patrons were lingering unhurriedly over cups of coffee or espresso, reading or chatting quietly with a companion. No one was near enough to overhear them and none had given them a second glance.

Of course, Seattle was full of unusual personalities. He rather doubted anyone would find him interesting enough to remember. But she was the expert.

“Are we staying here long?”

She glowered at him, clearly irritated. He only waited. He’d followed her directions to the letter earlier, without question. This was a lull in their movement and he needed a break from unquestioning obedience. Otherwise, he’d be too tempted to make a bad decision later when it might matter more.

Or at least, that was the way he rationalized it to himself. Isabelle very likely had her own opinion on his current dallying. He struggled for a moment, on the edge of apologizing and going to do as she’d said. She was keeping him alive for God’s sake.

And she acted like she wanted him to remain that way. There was no resentment, no dirty look, no grimace at anything they’d had to do so far. She hadn’t treated him like a job or a paycheck. She’d acted with immediate urgency, like she valued his life. Outside his actual family, she might be a first.

Before he could apologize, she ground out an answer to his question. “Awhile. I want to log on via a private proxy server and decide on our next move. They’ll be searching the streets in a wider search pattern by now and it’d be better to be out of easy sight until we know exactly where we’re headed.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. He could use the time to regain his balance. Then maybe he could get his more ridiculous impulses under control and quit giving her a hard time. “The coffee flight, then.”

“What?” If possible her glower grew deeper and a spark of temper flared up in her gaze.

She was too much fun to tease.

He lifted a chin to indicate the menu behind the coffee bar. “I’ll take the coffee flight while we wait. It’ll calm my nerves.”

Okay, maybe not quit entirely. But he’d try to keep his teasing in reasonable parameters if he had something else to occupy his attention.

“Take your time in the restroom. I’ll keep an eye on anyone coming in from here.” She was already turning away from him, her gaze sweeping the café.

The men’s restroom was clean and compact. He opted to head into a stall to make the changes she’d requested rather than have an awkward moment if someone walked in to see him changing his outfit. It took only a few minutes but he paused to wash his hands and splash his face with water. Now that they weren’t on the move, his hands had begun to shake with delayed reaction.

There’d been shots fired on part of his security detail. That was all he’d learned so far. And it’d been Isabelle who’d acted quickly, calmly, and gotten him out of the area. He’d been right to hire her.

What if he hadn’t?

Any number of possibilities blossomed in his mind but the recurring image in every scenario had him dead. Shot full of holes. There were no second chances unless a person managed to stay alive.

He needed a second chance, not for himself but for people who would be depending on him. Soon.

He stared at himself in the mirror. A part of his brain still narcissistic enough to care noted he was looking somewhat haggard. Dark circles were forming under his eyes. Coffee would help. A full night’s sleep would help more. But he hadn’t had one since he’d cut his deal and gone into protective custody.

The events of today only served to convince him there was something completely irregular about this trial. Perhaps Isabelle Scott would have insight he hadn’t considered yet. She’d certainly exceeded anything anyone else had accomplished so far when it came to his situation.

He found her physicality extremely attractive and he was about to see if she proved to be equally remarkable in terms of intelligence. The anticipation was enough to gain control of his earlier panic for the moment.

When he exited the restroom, he found Isabelle seated in a booth tucked far away from the front windows of the café. She sat with her back to a wall in a position to see anyone entering the establishment or approaching the booth in specific. As he walked to meet her, keeping in mind her earlier warning about staying away from the windows, she stood and had him slide into the booth beside her.

Not the seat he’d have chosen for himself but when he spotted his requested coffee flight sitting on the table, he decided to meet her halfway.

As he sat, Isabelle reached across him to stick Post-it notes on each of the French presses. “The guy behind the counter offered to come over. If you really wanted the super detailed description of your coffees you’ll have to be disappointed. We don’t want him over here making a show out of it.”

He chuckled at her dry tone. Perhaps he might’ve been irritated if someone else had been making decisions for him but he suspected she preferred to avoid being the center of attention in any place, regardless of the situation. Besides, her reasoning made sense. “I’m happy knowing what each coffee is, thank you.”

Isabelle grunted and turned her gaze to her laptop.

Her brow furrowed with her concentration and a stray strand of hair fell forward. It was entirely possible the server had offered to come back simply because she was a beautiful customer. She didn’t seem to consider the possibility and he found it entertaining.

Kyle poured a small cup of his first coffee—a variety of bean from Jamaica—and savored it sip by sip, settling in to enjoy this simple thing. It helped him compartmentalize, gain distance from the fright of fleeing the apartment that was supposed to have been his safe house. In a way, it helped him organize the jumble of questions in his head. He’d give her a minute or two to accomplish her tasks, then he’d ask her what their next steps would be. In the meantime, he could enjoy the view too. Her look of concentration was very appealing, especially the way her lips pursed as she read the screen.

Isabelle, he’d found, tended to be more forthcoming than Austin or Weaver, most definitely more communicative across the board than Decker. She seemed to be of the opinion the more he knew, the more likely he would be to take action when she needed him to.

He was most definitely inclined to agree.

The laptop only had a portion of Isabelle’s attention though. She was still glancing up every few seconds to assess who was coming and going from the room. What each person was doing. Her eyes even took on the far-off look of someone staring out beyond the windows to anything outside.

Doing his best to maintain his calm, he went for what he hoped would come out as a light tone. “Are we expecting company?”

“Mmm.” She continued to type away at her laptop. “Always expect the worst company. That way, if they don’t show up, you’re pleasantly surprised.”

It occurred to him then, she might be prepared for a fight. Here, in a public place. She’d placed her backpack on the seat between them and the main compartment remained open. Her duffel bag was on the other side, also open. She had easy access to any weapon she’d brought with her. If he recalled, she had at least one impressively large firearm.

The legalities of it all boggled his mind.

“What about our friends?” The idea of saying their names out loud twisted his gut. There’d been a reason they’d run in the first place. He’d only heard Isabelle’s side of the terse exchange but none of it had sounded good.

Her fingers paused on the keyboard and she lifted her head, pinning him with the full focus of her attention. “From what I could learn, they are not in the best shape but they’ll be okay. In fact, they weren’t absolutely sure we needed to move at all.”

Indirect. But at least she was giving him answers. If he wanted more he’d have to be every bit as circumspect. “Will we be chatting again with them soon?”

Isabelle’s lips curved in an approving smile. That mouth of hers was ever so enticing. “Not yet. But things are up in the air. I’m sure we’ll catch up with them once everyone has had a chance to rest for the afternoon.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow at her. “So it’s just the two of us.”

And not a private place in sight to take advantage of the situation. Yet.

“For a bit.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Consider it an opportunity to spend a few hours being people we usually aren’t.”

Her message was clear. He grinned. Because it was the perfect opening to take her hint well past the intent and he absolutely wasn’t going to pass it by.

“Well then,” he drawled as he stretched his long legs under the table and lifted his arms to rest along the back of the booth bench. “I think that’s a great idea.”

She harrumphed and returned her attention to her computer screen yet again.

Oh no, he had his equilibrium back now and he was more than ready to prick her temper a bit.

“Tell me, who would you be if you weren’t you for an afternoon?” He leaned toward her and brushed the stray lock of wavy dark hair from her cheek.

She batted his hand away and turned toward him, mouth open to deliver some retort.

He darted in, capturing her mouth and whatever heated words she’d planned to give him. He guessed he was risking physical injury but he hadn’t died yet and she was supposed to be his bodyguard so she couldn’t kill him for daring.

* * *

Anger surged and battled with her short-circuited libido. He’d caught her by surprise but that was no excuse for letting him inside her guard.

No. She was pissed at herself because she’d been imagining exactly what kissing him would be like.

And now she was.

And melting into his arms wasn’t in the plan.

But his lips on hers felt damned good. It’d been a long time since chemistry with a man sizzled this way. So maybe a little melting was called for.

His lips brushed over hers and his tongue flicked out, teasing her lower lip.

Hell, she wasn’t going to think about this. At least she wouldn’t for the next few seconds. She opened for him.

He deepened the kiss at her invitation, his tongue sweeping in to explore. She met him halfway and tasted him in return. The man was a very, very good kisser.

When they parted, it was slow and reluctant. She drew in air through her nose and let it out slowly through her mouth, struggling to pull her scattered thoughts together. Warily, she scanned the room. The habitual check gave her a chance to get back to intelligent thoughts without looking him in the eyes. No new people had entered. None had left either. Not a single person seemed to have noticed the public display. Thank God.

Her cheeks burned and she cleared her throat. “That—”

“Was nice.” Kyle’s voice had deepened a note or two to a husky tenor.

Yes. “Not the point.” She probably sounded like a bitch but she needed to be firm. “It shouldn’t happen again. It’s too distracting.”

There was a beat of silence. “May I take that as a positive reaction to the kiss in general?”

She scowled at him, trying to cover her discomfiture He kept knocking her off balance. Other men would’ve been more butt-hurt over her assertion. It made it easier for her to do her job.

A tiny part of her warmed though.

“What would you do next?” She tossed the question out in an effort to move the topic along to something else, pulling up a list of her private notes on her laptop.

He shifted in his seat and leaned toward her again. “After a kiss?”

“No.” She lifted her hand and tapped his chest with her fingertips without taking her gaze away from her screen. “After leaving a place in a hurry.”

“Why?” He sounded genuinely puzzled. “I honestly haven’t rushed out of a place in quite that way.”

She snorted. “You’ve never had to make a break for it? Ever?”

A pause. “It’s been a long time.”

An image of a much younger version of him running popped into her mind. There might have been amusement there, but she thought she heard an underlying bitterness. Layers. The man had too many of them and she couldn’t understand why she had the urge to explore.

“I’m guessing whoever is after you has studied you and had time to observe your protective detail too. At least enough to recognize the pattern of their circuit.” She might’ve been identified already as well and she’d include it in her planning. Chances were good they didn’t have enough information on her yet to predict her moves. Especially since they were currently in the wind. “I’d like to have an idea of what you’d do on your own so I can take a guess at where they’d be looking for you.”