Operation: Midnight Tango (3 page)

“If you want to live, you’ll shut your mouth and listen!” Holding her against the lockers, he glanced over his shoulder toward the door, as if expecting someone to rush them at any moment. When he turned back to her, his eyes were dark with anger. “What are you trying to do? Get someone killed?”

“I’m trying to keep a dangerous convict from escaping,” she said.

“I’m not who you think I am,” he growled.

If she hadn’t been so terrified, Emily might have laughed. “Next you’re going to be telling me you’re innocent.”

“Honey, I’m a long way from innocent, but I don’t belong in this hellhole any more than you do.”

His voice was like the low rumble of thunder announcing the approach of a violent storm. Emily was aware of his body pressed firmly against hers. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the quiver of nerves raw with adrenaline.

The thud of shoes against concrete sounded outside the door. His body went rigid. “Not another
word,” he whispered. “Or I swear I’ll kill whomever walks through that door.”

She could feel the butt of the gun against her belly. “Don’t,” she said. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

His gaze fastened on hers, and she saw a flicker of an emotion she couldn’t quite identify. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving her to wonder how this was going to end. If he was going to kill her. If he was going to kill one of her co-workers. If she would have that death on her conscience the rest of her life.

He stared at her for an interminable moment, his expression a disturbing mix of fear and very dark intentions. “Unless you want me to pull this trigger, I suggest you follow my cue.”

Before she could answer, he slid his hands to either side of her face and lowered his mouth to hers.

Chapter Two

Emily was so shocked by the sudden intimate contact that for a moment she could do nothing but stand there and try to absorb what was happening. She was keenly aware of his mouth against hers, of the forbidden rush of pleasure that surged from her lips all the way to her toes.

Somewhere in the back of her mind an internal alarm wailed. Some small voice of reason telling her to shove him away. But the heat of the kiss was interfering with the synapses firing in her brain. Every impulse to scramble back and forget this had ever happened was tempered with a stronger impulse to kiss him back and worry about the consequences later.

His mouth was firm and breathtakingly talented against hers. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. The scratch of his stubble against her cheek. When she opened her mouth to voice the protest caught in her throat, he deepened the kiss.

Her protest came out as a sigh. She could feel her
body melting. She knew it was the worst thing she’d ever done in her life. But the sensations coursing through her overwhelmed her, made her think maybe kissing him was a mistake worth making….

“Monroe?”

With a strength that surprised her, she shoved the inmate away, appalled by what she’d done, stunned by what she felt, mortified by how this would appear to a fellow corrections officer.

That officer was standing at the locker room doorway, his gaze sliding from her to the inmate and then back to her. “Is there a problem here?”

“No,” the convict said.

The young officer addressed Emily. “Where’s your radio?”

Heat infused her cheeks. She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to feel. Barely able to meet the other man’s gaze, she stepped away from the inmate. “I—I must have put it in my locker.”

The officer glared at the inmate with narrowed eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

The convict grinned like an idiot and stuck out his hand. “Zack Devlin,” he said.

Reluctantly the officer took his hand. “You new or what?”

“First day on the job.” Devlin whistled. “Hell of a facility you’ve got here.”

“Yeah, well, if you want to keep your job, I suggest you keep your mouth to yourself.” The man disentangled his hand and glared at Emily. “The sergeant has been trying to reach you on the radio.
We’ve got a situation in Cell Block 2-W. Code yellow for now, but I expect them to crank it up to red if the second head count comes up short. Sarge has asked every officer on duty to stay until they find the missing inmate.”

“Oh…uh…sure. I’ll just…get my radio and meet up with you in the briefing room.”

“And bring the new recruit with you.” Sending a final scathing look at Zack, the officer turned and left the room.

Emily’s knees went weak the instant the other man disappeared, and she sat down hard on the bench. She couldn’t believe what she’d done. Couldn’t believe one of her co-workers had seen her do it. What had she been
thinking
letting an inmate kiss her?

Groaning, she put her face in her hands. “I’m finished as a corrections officer.”

“Look, if I hadn’t done what I did, you would have brought down the wrath of God knows how many corrections officers, and I’d be on the floor getting a mouthful of concrete about now.”

Raising her head, all she could think of was that she was twenty-eight years old and she’d never been kissed like that in her life. Suddenly she felt as much contempt for herself as she did for the inmate.

He glanced toward the door. “Look, things are about to get nasty. I’m going to go while the going is good. I appreciate the help.”

“Don’t thank me for something I didn’t do,” she said, giving him a seething look. “I’m going to hit the alarm the moment you walk out that door.”

“Just remember that things aren’t always what they appear,” he said. “No matter what you hear about me later, don’t forget that.”

No, Emily thought, she didn’t think she would ever forget this night no matter how much she wanted to.

“Watch your back.” Giving her a mock salute, he slid through the doorway with the soundless grace of a panther and disappeared into the dimly lit corridor.

For several seconds Emily sat motionless on the bench and listened to the hard pounding of her heart. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Couldn’t believe levelheaded Emily Monroe had fallen for the oldest con in the book. She’d dishonored herself, jeopardized her job and compromised everything she’d ever believed in.

Just like her father.

She rose on trembling legs and started for the alarm panel. She was midway there when movement at the doorway drew her attention. For an instant she thought Devlin—or whatever his name was—had returned. She was surprised to see, of all people, Marcus Underwood, the administrator of Lockdown, Inc., the private corporation that ran the Bitterroot Super Max. What on earth was he doing at the prison this early in the morning?

“Mr. Underwood,” she said. “I was just—”

“Officer Monroe.” He crossed to her, followed by another man. “We caught part of what happened on the security cameras from the command center. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“You’re aware that we’re currently under a code yellow.”

“Yes, sir. I was about to hit the alarm. An inmate overpowered me in the infirmary less than ten minutes ago.” Her voice shook as she described the situation she’d walked into at the infirmary. “He identified himself as Zack Devlin.”

The two men exchanged a look that sent a chill up her spine. “Devlin has a long and violent history,” Underwood said.

“Did he get away?” she asked.

“Nobody gets away from Lockdown, Inc.” The second man came up beside Underwood. The stripes on his shoulders told her he was a lieutenant, but she’d never met him. “We’ll get him.”

Underwood addressed Emily. “Did he tell you anything? Mention where he was going?”

She shook her head. “All I know is that he’s wearing a Lockdown, Inc. uniform and coat and that he’s armed with a semiautomatic pistol.”

“How did he get a weapon?” Underwood asked no one in particular.

“Evidently he had help,” the lieutenant said. “Someone must have smuggled it in.”

“Zack Devlin could talk a nun into lying for him.” Underwood looked grim. “Put out a code red.”

“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant reached for his radio and began barking orders.

Hearing the squeak of rubber against concrete, Emily turned to see a man in a white lab coat standing in the doorway.

“Ah, Dr. Lionel,” began Underwood. “Before we take Officer Monroe to the debriefing room for a statement, we thought it would be a good idea for you to look her over, make sure she’s all right.” He turned his attention to Emily. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal with a very dangerous criminal. Lockdown, Inc.’s policy requires you to be thoroughly checked out by one of our medical personnel.”

“I’m fine.” She just wanted to get the paperwork finished so she could go home and forget this ever happened.

The three men were staring intently at her. Emily started to tremble when she noticed the syringe in Dr. Lionel’s hand. “What’s that for?” she asked.

Underwood gave her a reassuring smile. “I can see that you’re upset. You’re still shaking. Dr. Lionel is just going to give you a little something to help you relax.”

“I don’t need to relax.” Emily didn’t know what was going on, but there was something very wrong with this picture. As crazy as it sounded, she couldn’t shake the suspicion that these men hadn’t appeared out of nowhere to help her or debrief her. But why would they harm her? What could they possibly have to gain?

“What’s this all about?” she said. “What’s going on?”

Underwood spoke. “Did Zack Devlin tell you anything, Emily?”

Warily she glanced from man to man. “I’ve already told you everything that happened.”

“Everything, Emily? Are you absolutely certain? We were watching you on the security cameras, you know. You and Devlin seemed to be quite…close for having just met.”

The kiss,
she thought and closed her eyes briefly.
Dear Lord, they think I helped Devlin escape.
“I— I can explain what happened.”

“Please do.”

“H-he surprised me. I was so…stunned, I couldn’t react.”

“Do you have any idea what the penalty is for aiding and abetting an escaped convict?” the lieutenant asked.

“I…didn’t,” she said breathlessly. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Your father did.”

Humiliation cut her at the mention of her father, but she kept her shoulders square, her chin up. “I know how this might look, but I did not help that man escape.”

“Someone did,” the lieutenant said.

“I followed policy and procedure,” she maintained.

“Of course you did.” Underwood assumed the classic good-cop role. “And now you’re going to tell us what Devlin told you.”

“He didn’t tell me anything.”

Sighing as if she’d disappointed him, Underwood nodded at the doctor.

“What are you doing?” she asked as the doctor approached her.

His grim expression raised gooseflesh on her arms. “We’re going to give you a little something to help you remember.”

Emily couldn’t believe this was happening. She stared at the syringe in Dr. Lionel’s hand, her heart pounding like a drum. The three men stood squarely between her and the door. There was no way she could get by them. Her hand went to the canister of pepper spray that should have been clipped to her belt only to find it gone. Damn. Damn.
Damn.

“I want to speak to Warden Carpenter.” She’d known Clay Carpenter since she was a teenager. He’d worked with her father a decade earlier. The two men had been friends. He’d helped Emily get her job at the prison. He would never approve of what these men were about to do.

“I’m afraid the warden is unavailable,” the lieutenant said.

“Stay away from me,” she warned.

In tandem the lieutenant and the doctor closed in on her. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is,” the doctor said.

Emily lunged toward the alarm panel. Two sets of hands closed around her biceps and yanked her back.

“Let go of me!” She lashed out with her feet.

“This will be easier for you if you cooperate,” Underwood said. “Tell us what Devlin told you.”

She looked over to see Dr. Lionel thumb the cap off the syringe. “Keep that away from me!” she yelled, hoping she didn’t sound as terrified as she felt.

“We’re not going to hurt you, Emily. This is just a little thiopental sodium to help you tell the truth.”

Truth serum,
she thought with a burgeoning sense of horror. “You can’t do this.”

Grabbing her arm, the lieutenant shot an irritated look at the doctor. “Inject her, damn it. We don’t have much time.”

The doctor raised the syringe. Emily had worked for Lockdown, Inc. for three years. She had two commendations in her personnel file. Why didn’t they believe her? Why would they go to such great lengths to extract information when she didn’t have a clue what they wanted from her? What could possibly be important enough to risk Lockdown, Inc.’s reputation? Or even her life?

Just remember that things aren’t always what they appear.

Devlin’s words scrolled through her mind. She glanced at Dr. Lionel. The needle was about to penetrate her skin. Oh, dear God…

“The first man that moves gets a bullet for his trouble.”

The doctor froze. All eyes swept to the doorway. Zack Devlin entered, his gun leveled on Underwood. He looked at Emily. “You okay?”

“No.” She scrambled back, looked from Zack to Underwood, then back to Zack. “I want to know what’s going on.”

“You were about to become Lockdown, Inc.’s latest victim.” His gaze cut to Underwood. “Killing your own people now?”

“You’ll never get out of here alive,” the lieutenant sneered. “Nobody has ever escaped this prison and lived to tell about it.”

“I’ve always had a knack for breaking protocol.” Devlin’s mouth curved in a dangerous imitation of a smile. “Get facedown on the floor. Hands behind your backs. All of you.
Now.
”

“He’s a killer,” Underwood said to Emily as he got down on the floor. “Don’t believe anything he says. You’re through, Devlin!”

Ignoring him, Zack crossed to her and held out his hand. “Give me your cuffs.”