Eye for an Eye, an (Heroes of Quantico Book #2): A Novel (6 page)

“She says she doesn’t want a wheelchair,” the woman informed them.

That didn’t surprise Mark. He thought back to the spunky teen who had insisted on walking out of the woods herself rather than wait for help after spraining her ankle on one of their hikes.

One corner of his mouth hitched up.

“I think we have enough able-bodied men here to get her safely to the car.”

“Lucky her.” The nurse gave the three of them an approving look and grinned. “She’s all set.”

“It’s about time we get to meet this mystery woman,” Coop said.

“This
pretty
mystery woman,” Nick chimed in, adjusting his jacket.

Mark narrowed his eyes, and the other man shrugged.

“Hey, the background stuff came in on my fax machine. Her picture was right on top. You had your chance twenty years ago.”

“You’re here to protect her. Nothing more,” Mark reminded him.

Nick gave a mock salute, grinned, and patted his gun. “Reporting for duty, sir. I’ll be happy to take the night shift.”

“I knew I liked this guy.” Coop chuckled. “Even if he is a health-food nut.”

Nick turned to him. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

“If you two are finished, why don’t we talk about a plan?”Mark knew Nick was kidding around. He was a pro on the job.

But he was all man off the job, according to his colleagues, with a playboy image to match.

Yet now that Mark had lived in his house for six weeks, he was beginning to suspect that image was more illusion than reality.

As far as he could see, Nick spent every spare hour lavishing his love on the pile of old bricks he was restoring rather than on a bevy of women. Nevertheless, Nick’s obvious appreciation of Emily’s considerable physical charms disconcerted him.

“While we stop for that cold drink you promised the lady yesterday, Nick could pick up any prescriptions she needs filled, go on to her condo, and do a sweep. That will expedite things once we get there,” Coop suggested.

“Good idea. You okay with that?” Mark turned to Nick.

“Sure.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.” Leading the way, he gave a discreet tap on the door and stepped inside.

Emily was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a khaki skirt short enough to reveal an appealing length of leg and a crisp, white sleeveless blouse. She had a gauze patch on her knee, a smaller one on her cheek, and a bulky bandage on her left arm.

Plus assorted bruises in varying shades of purple and green.

“Ready to leave?” Mark smiled at her.

“More than ready.”

He stepped aside and introduced Nick and Coop.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Emily took their hands in turn. “Mark’s already told me about both of you.”

He ignored the suspicious looks they sent his way.

“Nick’s going to go on to your place while we stop for that drink. If you’re up for that.”

“Just try to talk me out of it. I’m not letting you off the hook because of a little gunshot wound.” She dug around in her purse and handed over her keys. “You’ll need my security alarm code too. Let me find a piece of paper and write it down.” She began to rummage through her purse again, but Mark touched her arm.

“Just tell us. We’ll remember.”

“Okay.” She recited it.

“Got it.” Mark passed her keys to Nick. “We convinced the nurse to forgo the wheelchair.”

“Thanks.”

She scooted to the edge of the bed, and Mark moved beside her. “On the condition that you lean on us.”

“That’s no hardship.” She angled a look at Mark but turned to include Nick and Coop as well. “I can’t recall ever having had this many handsome men at my beck and call.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Coop grinned and moved beside her as she and Mark reached the end of the bed. Nick picked up her overnight case in one hand and juggled the vase of flowers in the other.

They escorted her down the hall, but when she paused at the bank of elevators, Mark urged her forward. “We’re taking that one.” He indicated the service elevator ahead.

“Why?” She looked up in time to catch the glance Mark exchanged with Coop over her head, and her puzzled frown eased.

“Never mind. It must be a security thing.”

“That, plus we’re trying to avoid any press that might be hanging around. So far we’ve managed to keep your name out of the paper.”

“I appreciate that.”

At the basement service entrance, Mark handed Nick his keys. The agent exited first, depositing Emily’s case in the trunk of his car and propping the flowers on the passenger seat. He did a quick sweep of the parking garage before motioning them out. They didn’t linger getting into Mark’s car.

As Coop put the car in gear, Mark spoke from his place beside Emily in the backseat. “To the coffee shop, driver.”

Coop glanced at Mark in the rearview mirror. “Watch it, buddy.”

“What? You don’t like being a chauffeur?”

“I prefer to think of myself as a chaperone. So behave back there, or I’ll have to ground you both.”

“Restricted to quarters with Emily. I’m not sure that would be such a bad thing.” Reaching for her hand, Mark entwined his fingers with hers.

She laughed and shook her head. “Are you two always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Funny. Irreverent. Sparring. I didn’t expect that, considering the serious nature of your work.”

In truth, that lighthearted banter was what got them through their toughest, most serious jobs, Mark reflected. It was a good technique for diffusing tension in stressful situations. And Emily was stressed to the max. If they could help her relax for an hour or two, she might be able to regroup and regain her equilibrium. To feel a bit more normal.

Even if her life wasn’t. And wouldn’t be for a while.

Soon, Mark would have to remind her of that. And he hoped this brief interlude of laughter and teasing would help make the hard stuff to come more palatable.

6

As she took the final sip of her double chocolate chip frappuc-cino, Emily smiled at Mark. “Thank you for following through. And for giving me a pleasant interlude in the midst of all this craziness. It’s been fun to reminisce.”

He leaned back in his chair and returned the smile, flicking a quick glance at Coop, who sat a few tables away. His partner had chosen a seat close enough to allow him to respond instantly if the need arose, and far enough away to be discreet, with a clear line of sight to the front door and a good view of the coffee shop overall. Mark had placed himself against the wall, where he, too, had a comprehensive view. Emily sat across from him, her back to the comings and goings in the shop.

“I never break a promise.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

He redirected his attention to her but remained alert to the activity in the shop. “What do you mean?”

“I remember a young man telling me once at Wren Lake that I was the only girl he’d ever love. And that no matter what happened, we’d never lose touch.”

Although Mark didn’t recall making that exact promise, there were quite a few gaps in his memory when it came to the hours they’d spent at Wren Lake. His most vivid recollection was Emily’s silky hair tangled in his fingers, her supple lips stirring beneath his, her soft skin tantalizing his fingers. Twenty years later, it was enough to stir the embers of that long-ago attraction.

“Did I say that?”

“More than once.” Her gentle smile told him she didn’t hold his lapse in memory against him.

“I can only offer two excuses in my defense. Youth and hormones.” A soft laugh whispered at her lips. “It’s hard to argue with that rebuttal. Those are powerful forces.”

“Can I say I’m glad our paths crossed again? And mean it this time?”

“You can.”

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the small table. Linking his fingers, he studied her, liking what the passage of years had done to her eyes. The sweet innocence of youth had given way to compassion, diffused energy to focus, searching to contentment. Her clear gaze had always radiated principle. Now he saw character, and a depth forged of experience—and loss.

But he also sensed a fundamental loneliness . . . and wondered if he was attuned to that because it mirrored his own.

“Why isn’t there someone new in your life?”

His quiet question startled her for a second before she smiled.

“How do you know there isn’t?” When he didn’t respond at once, her smile faded. “Never mind. I think I can guess.”

“The office ran a background check,” Mark conceded. “But I would have figured that part out on my own.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t disclose his theory about shared loneliness. “Call it male intuition. Is it because of loyalty to your husband?”

“No.” Her answer came quick and sure. “Grant loved life and believed in living every day to the fullest. He wouldn’t want me to mourn forever. If he could talk to me today, he’d tell me to move on.”

“Yet you haven’t.”

“No.”

He waited for an explanation, but when she didn’t offer one he respected the line she’d drawn. Instead, he changed the subject.

“Can we talk about the game plan for the next few days?”

Renewed tension tightened her features. “I’m beginning to recognize your FBI face.”

“I’d rather not have to bring up the heavy stuff, Em. But it’s there, and ignoring it would be both foolish and dangerous.”

She drew in a slow breath, let it out. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“You lead a very busy life.”

“Doesn’t everyone these days? And I would have been glad to tell you about it myself if you’d asked.”

“You weren’t in any shape to debrief us in a timely manner.”

She accepted his explanation with a nod and a quick lift of her shoulders. “Okay. So you know everything about me. Now what?”

“Any chance you could get out of town for a week or two?”

“Not without inconveniencing a lot of people.”

That was the answer he’d expected. “Then let’s talk about your routine. It’s too predictable.”

She considered that for a moment. “I’m not sure I like that assessment. Predictable sounds boring. I prefer to think of it as organized and structured.”

“You need to unstructure it a little.”

She shifted in her chair, and he could tell she was uncomfortable with his request.

“Is that a problem?”

“I wouldn’t call it a problem exactly. More like a challenge.

After all my years of military living, of constant packing up and starting over, I like stability and consistency. It’s very unsettling to me when my routine gets disrupted.”

Given her background, Mark could understand that. But her physical safety had to come first for now.

“Is there anything you can put on hold for a week or two?”

“I have regular office hours. I can’t let my patients down.

They count on me. And I’m sure you know about my other commitments.”

“A weekly radio program. And counseling at a domestic violence shelter.”

“I also go to church every Sunday. I’m surprised you missed that one.”

“It was probably in the file. I only had a chance to give it a quick look this morning.” His lips quirked into a smile.

“In any case, I’d prefer not to give up any of my commitments.” “Okay.” He’d expected that response too. “But we need to come up with some ways to let you honor them without putting yourself in the line of fire.”

“I have a treadmill in the spare bedroom I use in bad weather.

I could switch to that for my daily walk.”

“That’s a start. How about church? Are you flexible about which service you attend?”

“Yes.”

“Can you vary your schedule at the women’s shelter?”

“I could alternate afternoons.”

“Would the radio station consider broadcasting your show from a remote location?”

“It’s a small, local operation. That would be difficult for them.”

“Okay. We can live with that as long as someone accompanies you there. Do you always see patients in your office?”

“Yes. With rare exception.”

“But you could vary your hours a bit, right?”

“To some degree.”

“That would help. And we’ll check out the office for security issues. Let’s talk about living arrangements. Is there anyone you could stay with for a few days, or someone who could stay with you?”

“No one I’d want to impose on.” She gave him a distressed look. “How long could it take to find this guy?”

“It’s hard to predict. I’ll have a better idea after the briefing tomorrow with our people and the Oakdale police.” There was no reason to tell her that unless the shooter had made some mistakes, left them some leads to track down, they might never find him. Unless—or until—he struck again. “For the next twenty-four hours we’d like to keep tight security on you. We’ll revisit our plan after the meeting tomorrow.” He moved his empty cup aside. “Have you thought any more about giving us the name of that EAP referral?”

She sighed. “I knew that topic would come up again.”

“We can get it if we need to, Emily.” There was apology in his voice, but he let the steel come through too. “There are legal routes we can take if you don’t feel you can cooperate.”

“I know.” She stared into her cup. “Divulging his name just goes against everything I believe about doctor/patient relationships. Being questioned as part of a police investigation will add to his stress, even if he doesn’t connect it to me.”

“I’d rather add to his stress than take a chance with your life.”

Silence greeted his blunt rebuttal. He waited, hoping she’d recognize the necessity of his request and honor it without forcing him to take official action.

With a resigned sigh, she looked up. “Jack Hanley.” She named his company.

Relieved by her capitulation, Mark filed the name away in his memory. “We can get everything else we need on our own.”

“He’s not going to be happy about this.”

“We can deal with that.”

“I’m not sure he can.”

Reaching out, Mark enfolded her hand in his. “I wish you’d worry about yourself as much as you worry about your patients.”

“The person I’m most worried about at the moment is you.

Between the two of us, you’re the more likely target.”

“I’ve got Coop watching my back. I’m not concerned.”

She looked over her shoulder to check out his partner. Mark didn’t have to. He knew what she was seeing. Coop would appear relaxed as he lingered over his drink, ankle crossed over knee, one arm stretched along the top of the chair next to him. No one in the shop would suspect he was assessing every person who came through the door, that he was ready to spring into action at the slightest hint of danger. Or that the flap of his suit coat hid a lethal weapon.

“He strikes me as very competent.”

“The best.”

She turned back. “Have you been partners long?”

“Four years.” He examined her face, noting the deep lines of weariness around her eyes, the strain at the edges of her mouth.

“Much as I’d love to prolong this, I think you need to go home and rest.”

A winsome smile tipped up the corners of her lips. “I’d forgotten how easy it is to be with you, Mark. I feel like our summer together was weeks, not years, ago.”

“Hold that thought until all this is over.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then stood and reached down to help her up. “Don’t make any fast moves. You could be a little lightheaded for a few days, and the last thing we need is for you to nosedive into the floor.”

She accepted his help—and his advice. “You know, even as a teenager, you were a sensitive guy. And I think you’ve improved with age.”

Her words warmed him, but he hid their effect with a grin.

“Thanks. But don’t tell Coop, okay? I’d never live it down.”

“Not a macho thing, huh?” she teased.

Over her head, Mark nodded to Coop, who moved to the door to scan the parking lot. “Not in the HRT. Okay, let’s get you home.”

As Mark lifted his finger toward the bell, Nick opened the door to Emily’s townhouse condo.

“Everything okay?” Mark ushered Emily inside while Coop took one more look behind them before shutting the door.

“No problems.”

Emily paused in the small foyer and gave a contented sigh.

“It’s good to be home.” She angled toward the shadowy living room on her left, where all the shades and drapes had been drawn. “Why is it so dark in here?”

Mark followed her as she moved into the room, giving the space an appreciative scan. Soft white walls formed a neutral backdrop for her impressionist prints and cobalt blue couch.

Inviting side chairs upholstered in cream, blue, and rose stripes were styled in clean, simple lines. A piece of contemporary blown-glass art in vivid jewel tones was centered on the glass-topped coffee table.

Classy, he concluded. Just like the lady who called this home.

As she headed toward the window and reached for the pull on the shade, he moved behind her and put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “It’s safer this way.”

Mark watched her contented expression morph to apprehension as her illusion of home-turf safety evaporated. He wished he could restore it. Wished he could guarantee her this was a safe haven. But the only way to ensure her security was to catch the guy who’d lined them up in the sights of his rifle.

“I put your bag in the bedroom, Emily.” Nick broke the tense silence. “We’re going to need a few minutes to sort things out here, if you want to unpack.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Her words came out shaky. “There are sodas in the fridge if anyone gets thirsty. Did you get those prescriptions, Nick?”

“Also in the bedroom.”

“Thanks.”

The three men watched her slow progress toward the steps, her fingers skimming the wall to steady herself. When they heard her door on the second floor click closed, Nick spoke.

“She’s pretty banged up.”

“Inside and out.” Coop frowned. “This whole situation reminds me of Monica.”

“But that turned out okay,” Mark reminded him. And himself. “Yeah.” Coop shoved one hand in the pocket of his slacks and turned. “Okay, Nick, what have you got?”

“The security here isn’t bad.” He settled on the edge of the couch, and the other two men sat as well. “She has a good alarm system and deadbolts on the outside doors. The windows are double-paned. She’s also got a very attentive neighbor in the attached unit, who cornered me as I was opening the door. An older woman.

She was quite protective until I showed her my creds.”

“That would have to be Evelyn.”

“Evelyn Martelli. How did you know?”

“Emily told me about her. The grandmotherly type, from what I gather.”

“Yes. But she’s not afraid of confrontation. And it was obvious she keeps an eye out for your friend. I checked the parking situation too. Not so good. An isolated garage in back covers this whole unit. The spots are numbered, meaning it would be easy to target a car.”

“The visitor parking in the front would be safer. Plus, there’s a lot more activity out there,” Coop noted.

“I agree. In terms of surveillance, much as I’d like to suggest we put an agent inside—and I’d be happy to volunteer for that duty,” Nick offered with a grin, “it makes more sense to monitor the building from the parking lot. From the front we can scan the whole area and watch for anyone who might be stalking her.