Fatal Courage: Shadow Force International, Book 3 (Shadow Force International Romantic Suspense Series) (10 page)

He gritted his teeth.
I should have been closer, should have been right next to her.

Rory stopped the video. “Any idea who the shooter might have been? Why he fired up at the ceiling?”

“Whoever he was, he wanted to clear the place,” Jax offered.

Ruby rubbed her forehead. Her phone kept going off, and even though she had it on silent, he’d seen her checking it and disregarding the calls. At one point, she’d told him it was her mother, who’d seen TV footage of Ruby being arrested and had freaked out. “He wanted to stop me from talking to Little Gus.”

“Who did?” Emit said.

“I don’t know.” She stared at the screen a moment, shrugged. “Deuce?”

“Keon James, aka, Deuce,” Jax supplied to the others. “Beatrice believes he has strong ties to Elliot Hayden and I was looking for him, trying to get a lead on Hayden.” He turned to Ruby. “What did he say to you in that supply closet?”

She closed her eyes for a second as if debating how much to say, how much to cooperate. She was tired—exhausted, if the strain around her eyes said anything—and maybe she was finally realizing a little help wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Her eyes opened and she rubbed the top of her thigh. “From what I know, Keon James, aka Deuce, was helping Elliot with an undercover assignment in Morocco. He disappeared right before the Marrakech fiasco, and Elliot claimed it was because Deuce feared Al-Safari would blow his undercover identity. Last night, he said a bunch of stuff that doesn’t make sense to me, but it may be why he didn’t want me talking to Little Gus.”

Emit rocked back in his chair, pulled a coiled up Twizzler from his front pocket. Guy was addicted to the strawberry twists. “Like what?” he said before taking a bite.

Ruby also sat back, rubbed her eyes. Her mascara was smudged so badly that rubbing her eyes made no difference in the raccoon circles under them. “He said a terrorist was gunning for him—a guy by the name of Mohammed Izala, whom Al-Safari worked for. Keon also claimed the army was after him too. That he couldn’t go back to headquarters or his unit because he couldn’t trust anyone. He said his head was on the chopping block and Elliot knew it.”

She swallowed hard, stared at the screen in front of her, avoiding all of their eyes.

She was holding back. Something had disturbed her. “What else?” Jax said.

She blew out a tight sigh, fiddled with the edge of the table. “He claimed Elliot promised him that if he got in good with Izala—a leader of AQIM—that when the shit hit the fan, the CIA would take care of him. Last night, he told me he believed everyone was after him, and Elliot had…”

“Had what?”

She stared at the table for a long moment. “He believes Elliot double crossed him.”

Jax’s convo with Beatrice the previous day poked his frontal lobe. “Hayden must have been running both James and Al-Safari. The two were buddies, working together with Hayden, feeding intel to Izala and anyone else who would pay for it.”

“Wait…how did you know Elliot had turned Al-Safari into an…” Ruby stopped herself. “Never mind. You obviously have intel even I don’t have. Anyway, we don’t know what the three of them were doing.”

“Mr. James was killed last night,” Rory said, matter-of-factly.

Ruby went a paler shade of flat-out fried. “Killed?”

Rory touched his tablet again, a crime scene photo appearing on their screens. Keon James, lying on the ground, two bullet holes in his forehead. “His body was found in the alley behind the club shortly after the two of you were arrested.”

“Oh crap,” Ruby whispered.

Jax stared at the bullet holes.

“Double-tap to the head,” Colton analyzed. “Execution style.”

“Two to the head, one to the heart,” Rory confirmed. “Assassin style.
CIA
style. Someone put two slugs in him from behind, rolled him over and put another in his heart.”

All eyes swung to Ruby. She sat up straighter, gave Rory the hairy eyeball. “The CIA isn’t the only one who uses that type of kill pattern.”

“True,” he agreed, “but Keon James wasn’t killed in the crossfire by some amateur gang banger. A skilled assassin purposely put him down. Since he was dealing with the CIA, odds are one of them took him out. One of them…oh, say, such as Elliot Hayden, who escaped from prison a few days ago?”

“Elliot didn’t kill him,” Ruby insisted, but her voice was weak. “That’s ridiculous.”

Seemed pretty damn coincidental to him. “Elliot wanted to shut him up about their operation. Makes perfect sense.”

Ruby came out of her seat. “Elliot is not a killer!”

“Okay, okay.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her back down. “We’re just brainstorming here. If not Elliot, who? Why would they kill him? Because he knew too much about something? So he wouldn’t talk to you or anyone else?”

Ruby’s gaze dropped to the table once more. Silence enveloped them for a moment as they gave her the chance to implicate her ex-partner. Or anyone for that matter.

She didn’t.

Jax’s frustration grew. He needed one of those goddamned Twizzlers so he could bite off the end.

“Another tidbit of info you might find interesting,” Rory continued. “Keon James and Augustus Nelson—aka Little Gus—were almost stepbrothers. Nelson’s father and James’s mother lived together for six months back in the day. The boys formed a close bond according to a citation made in Nelson’s child services file that was created after his father was shot and killed. Nelson was ten when he went into the system. He asked repeatedly to see his brother Kee. The social worker made a note that Nelson had no brother named Kee. He was probably referring to Keon.”

Ruby looked up. “So that’s how Little Gus had the contacts in the Middle East. Keon James was his point man.”

“Looks that way,” Rory said. “Nelson was taken into police custody early this morning and questioned, but the interrogation was interrupted by an Agent Brown, supposedly from Homeland. You heard of him?”

Ruby frowned and shook her head.

“Me either.” Rory sent them another video, this one from inside the police station. A man in a Cubs hat and a navy blue car coat was escorted to an interrogation room, then seen leaving with Nelson in cuffs a few minutes later. “The guy’s good. Kept his face off camera and who knows what was tucked under that coat of his, but the officer on duty claimed his Homeland credentials were legit.”

Emit played with a new twist of red licorice. “We don’t have enough facial points for TracRec, but we’re running the guy’s build and gait through the software to see if we get a hit. We’ve matched people on less.”

Nothing changed in Ruby’s demeanor—and maybe it was his overactive imagination, or the fact his body was so tuned into hers—but Jax was sure she contracted ever so slightly. Like she’d bit into a piece of Emit’s licorice.

The video looped and Colton paused it at the moment Nelson was herded out of the room by Agent Brown. Nelson’s eyes were wide as saucers, his face drawn. “He look scared to you?” Colt said quietly to Jax.

Damn straight he did. “Fuck, yeah.”

Rory continued. “Before Brown took off with Little Gus, the guy told the detective interviewing him that Keon James and Elliot Hayden were both set up by someone.”

“Who?” Ruby said.

Rory shrugged.

“Confirms what Deuce told you,” Jax said to Ruby.

The gears in Ruby’s head were spinning if the laser gaze she shot him was any indication. That or she was morphing into Agent McKellen right before his eyes, her spy persona clicking into place.

Color returned to her face, her hand steadied as she took a sip of coffee. “Sounds like nothing but conspiracy theories at this point. Unless we have hard evidence or a name, we’re at a dead end.”

The hard line of Rory’s set-in-stone, non-smile eased a bit. One corner actually lifted as if amused at her challenge. “If I had to guess, Agent Brown swooped in just in time to keep our boy from giving up the goods. Question is, did our buddy Brown here kill Keon James to silence him too?”

Emit chewed the last of his candy, swallowed. “Or did Elliot Hayden kill him?”

A buzzing came from Ruby’s thigh. Jax raised a brow at her.

“My phone,” she said. “Could someone point me to the ladies room?”

She’d flipped on the ringer to use it as an escape.

Agent McKellen was definitely back. Was it her mother again, or someone more important?

Emit stood and showed her out, returning a moment later to drop into his seat. “I don’t like it. Jax?”

Jax had turned over the idea in his head a dozen times already. “Ruby’s right. Intel is only as reliable as the source it comes from. All we have at the moment are theories based on a couple of random accusations by two men who may or may not have been involved in illegal, potentially traitorous activities with Elliot Hayden.”

But what if Hayden is innocent?

Jax shoved the ugly, unwanted thought away. “Little Gus Nelson is a known criminal whose word is suspect since he’ll lie and rat out anyone to save his own skin, and Keon James faked his own death and is AWOL from the army. On the other hand…”

Colton grinned. “Conspiracy theories are fun.”

Crazy motherfucker.

The corner of Rory’s mouth did that lift thing again. “We do have legitimate links between Hayden, James, and Nelson, the fact that James was point-blank assassinated, and some mysterious agent from Homeland kidnapped the man everyone wants to talk to. Those aren’t coincidences.”

“Agent McKellen’s life could definitely be in danger,” Emit said. “Get her client paperwork done, Jax. Rory can send it to Beatrice.”

“Jax has to find Hayden,” Colton volunteered. “I’ll hang with Ruby.”

The hell you will.
“Ruby will refuse our help,” Jax said, “and besides, she can take care of herself.”

“That’s good,” Rory said, staring at his tablet. “Cuz she’s heading out the back door right now.”

“Y
ES,
S
IR,”
R
UBY
said into her cell as she hustled out the back door of Rock Star Security. The sun nearly blinded her and she had to put her hand up to shade her eyes. One of the guys replacing a window on that side of the building stopped what he was doing to grin at her. “I’m on my way to the office as we speak. I was only released from the hospital a little bit ago.”

Director Timms was not happy. Not happy at all. “You have some explaining to do, Agent McKellen. Serious explaining.”

She had no car. It was still back at the club, and she didn’t have time to pick it up, go home, and clean herself up. Plus, her former partner was running around impersonating Homeland Security and fucking with the only source she had left who could help her clear his name.

All her brain seemed able to do was spin in what-the-hell-is-going-on-here mode.

Yet, the ever-confident, efficient Ruby rose to the surface like the trained agent she was. “I don’t blame you, sir. Just let me state that I appreciate you calling the station last night to make them aware of my reasons for being at the club.”

“Last night? It was two in the morning and you had no business being at that club, McKellen. Which is why you are one lucky agent and you’re going to get your backside into my office and explain to me exactly what you
were
doing at that club before I ship your ass back to Langley and wash my hands of you.”

“Can’t a girl go out once in a while?” She chuckled, hoping he would follow suit, chalk it all up to her personal life. He didn’t, a tense, impatient pause hanging between them. A bright yellow blob caught her eye. She waved at the taxi. “I can explain everything, sir, I assure you.”

His response was to hang up.

Alrighty, then.

The taxicab slid up to the curb and Ruby bare-footed it across the warm concrete. The vision of Elliot in that stupid coat and Cubs cap replayed on an endless loop in her brain. The cap was from her go bag. It was like he was flipping her off.

Or egging her on.

Definitely some kind of sign or signal, but what?

He’d always challenged her. Forced her to go beyond her comfort zone and live up to being the CIA’s Golden Girl.

But this…this was reckless, even for Elliot. What the hell had he been doing? How had he come up with a legitimate Homeland ID?

Jax’s voice stopped her mid-stride. “Where are you going?”

Raising a finger to the cabbie, she glanced back. Jax was two days or more past a shave and sporting circles under his eyes. His hair was unkempt as if he’d been running his fingers through it.

As a ray of morning sun sliced across his face, brightening his eyes, he was still the best-looking man she’d ever laid eyes on. Certain female parts below her waist purred to life.

One hand instinctively went to her lower abdomen. “To work. The director of the FBI Chicago field office just called to chew me a new one. I have to go.”

Behind Jax, the contractor working on the window openly ogled her.

Yes, I’m an agent
. She gave him a sneer.
And, no, you don’t stand a chance with me.

“I’m going with you.”