RELENTLESS (11 page)

“She handled herself really well,” Ben said, daring the other man to disagree. Any reason to land a punch at this point worked for Ben.

“I’m thinking she’s had some experience.”

Yeah, this guy just didn’t take a hint. Ben decided to make his position a bit more clear. “You have a point, Willoughby? If so, feel free to make it to me.”

“I’m talking to the lady.”

Ben took a step forward and Jocelyn pulled him back. “It’s okay, Ben. Detective Willoughby is doing his job and his tactics don’t scare me.”

Since she slipped her hand in his, Ben guessed whatever was jumping around inside her didn’t match the cool detachment of her words. Ben gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “It’s actually not okay.”

The detective ignored everything except what he wanted to say. He pointed from Ben to Jocelyn. “I’m going to need a list of where you plan to go the next few days.”

“Why?” she asked.

“So I can have an ambulance ready.”

Connor picked that moment to step in. There was another man with him. “Detective.”

“Connor Bowen.”

“Are we only using full names now?” Joel asked as he joined the group.

Connor pointed to the other man. “This is Kent Beane, the bank president.”

To Ben’s mind the guy looked ready to throw up. Sweat dripped off his forehead and he kept folding a handkerchief and wiping his brow. Beane acted as if someone had stolen his personal bank account and his house along with it.

Of course, since no one had tried to steal anything, the guy had bigger problems. Someone had used his office as a staging ground to grab Jocelyn. That put him on Ben’s list.

Willoughby ignored the introductions. “I got a call from my boss about you.”

Connor smiled. “Tell Anne I said hello.”

“I’m not sure who you think you are or why you’re protecting Ms. Raine—”

“Are you in trouble, Ms. Raine?” Kent asked.

“But it ends here.”

That qualified as one threat too many. Ben heard it, let it wind through him and feed the anger festering inside him. “Is that what your boss said you were supposed to do? Threaten women for no reason?”

The detective turned on him. “I’m betting the media would love to know what you’re doing now.”

Jocelyn let out a grumbling noise and shook off Ben’s hand. “How dare you?”

Whoa
. Ben grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled her back before she tackled the guy. Leaving his hand resting there, he massaged her lower back, letting her know he appreciated the support.

Not many people stepped up for him. Knowing she would meant something. Meant a lot. But he didn’t want her to make herself any more of a target.

He could handle the detective. “Is that supposed to be a threat, Detective? If so, you need to do better.”

Willoughby shifted his attention back to Jocelyn. “You have one day to come clean. You tell me who you are and what’s going on and your boyfriend stays off the front page.”

“What is wrong with you?”

Jocelyn asked it but Ben figured they were all thinking it.

“Well, now.” Joel made a humming sound. “We’ve been throwing words around, but that statement is definitely a threat.”

“And you’re a bit late to throw out one about my life. I can’t imagine what hasn’t been printed about me.” There was a strange freedom in knowing there was nothing left for people to say about him. Ben didn’t find a lot of comfort in the thought but he did see himself as slander-proof.

“I’ll take that as a challenge.”

The detective stormed off before anyone could respond or Ben could shove the guy through the wall the way he wanted to do.

“Who was that again?” Kent asked.

“He’s a jack—”

“Okay.” Connor shut down Ben’s honest response. “That’s enough.”

“Nice work today.” Ben didn’t know if it was true or not. He didn’t remember seeing the manager anywhere during the attack. Joel’s video would tell them, but Ben had the clear sense this guy had ducked the tragedy.

Kent shook his head. He kept alternating between swiping his brow and swallowing. “I missed it, I’m afraid.”

At least he didn’t try to lie. Ben didn’t really count that in the guy’s favor, but it was something. Now if he’d just stop leaking sweat. “You weren’t in the room?”

“Stepped out for coffee. Dropped it all over the street when I saw the police cars.”

Ben thought he saw some of it splashed down the front of the guy, as well.

Interesting story but awfully convenient. People broke into the bank at the exact moment the boss was out? It raised a red flag. From Connor’s frown, Ben realized he was not alone in wanting to dig around more in Kent’s story.

“Everybody is fine.” Connor’s voice wasn’t much better than the skeptical look on his face.

Joel pointed at the body bags. “Except for them.”

“Who are they?” Kent asked without looking.

It was the one question Ben knew the answer to, so he handled it. “The bad guys.”

Chapter Eleven

With his sleeves rolled up and his hair showing the tracks of his fingers, Connor stood at the head of the conference-room table on the first floor of the Corcoran Team headquarters later that night and looked around the room. “Let’s run this.”

Jocelyn heard the phrase but was too busy keeping her head from falling and smacking against the table to get all excited about being included in an information session. The adrenaline kick had long worn off. Now she had the afterburn of exhaustion. But no way was she leaving the room.

The entire building fascinated her. On the outside it looked like any other historically protected brick town house in this part of the city. Stately and expensive. But the inside had been carved up into something very different.

The big country kitchen with the blue cabinets at the back of the house fit. The front double rooms filled with computers and files and a conference area straight out of a spy movie looked more like a war room than a place for the family hangout.

This was where the real work happened. The behind-the-scenes gritty digging for leads. On the monitors stationed around the room and behind the security system complete with handprint identification and key cards.

They’d given her a seat at the table and she was going to sit in it, even if she almost fell asleep doing it.

A tray with a coffeepot and clean mugs sat on the middle of the table. Joel slid into the seat across from her and took a laptop out from where it was tucked under his armpit. Opening it, he looked up with his usual smile. “I’m ready.”

“We need security footage, along with the name and all the information you can find about every business on that street.”

Ben’s voice, firm and angry, contrasted with the way he smoothed his hand up and down her thigh. Not sexual so much as soothing, yet the touch still made her want to crawl up onto his lap.

She tried to concentrate on what was being said and add in her concerns. “And where does the door from the upstairs balcony at the bank go?”

“Good question.” Ben nodded. “Look into the blueprints, then check out the bank president, Kent Beane, and the security guy.”

“Ed?” She thought about the older man who always greeted her with a smile. He made it a point to know people’s names and open doors.

Seeing Ed as part of some grand conspiracy struck her as a waste of time. And a little scary. If the bad guys could get that close to her without her knowing, nowhere was safe.

“He disappeared for the entire robbery.” Ben’s fingers curled around the inside of her knee in a gentle squeeze.

An unexpected heat swirled through her. Okay, maybe she wasn’t so tired after all. “Not to point out the obvious but Ed did shoot one of the attackers.”

“You’re both right.” Joel waved a hand in the air without taking his attention from the computer screen. “I’ll track this Ed guy on the tape and we’ll see where he went. Could be a case of nerves. You know, a hiding-in-the-closet sort of thing. Some folks can’t handle pressure.”

She didn’t like that explanation any more than the other one. “How comforting.”

“I have a list of suggestions from Davis and Pax.” Connor shot a file across the table in Joel’s direction.

“Suggestions?”

“Davis used a different word but I’m trying to be tactful.”

Joel laughed. “Must be killing them not to be in on this hard-core.”

“Davis needs to stay where he is. By now whoever is coming after Jocelyn has to know something about our team, since we keep showing up next to the dead bodies. That means Kelsey and Lara need to stay in a protected space, just to be safe.” There was nothing light in Ben’s voice. The words settled in Jocelyn’s mind. She hated every one of them. Ben was right but the underlying reality stung. She’d brought all this danger to their doors. Her, not Ben and not his team.

The guilt and worry balled up inside her. These men knew how to protect but her being there could cost them everything they cared about. She tried to think of another place she could go hide but nothing came to her.

Maybe some space and an hour or two to think would help. “As fun as this is, I need a break from the terror and attempted kidnappings and never-ending need to throw up. I’m heading upstairs.”

They all stared at her but Ben spoke up. “You okay?”

Clearly her voice had given her away. Either that or in her need for sleep she’d said something she only meant to think. “Not really.”

Ben’s arm slipped along the back of her chair and his fingers massaged her neck. The slow circle eased the thumping headache and kick-started a twirling in her stomach.

Some of the fatigue seeped out of her body and a new sensation set in. It looked as though her fear of gun-toting, commanding, strong men might be gone thanks to Ben.

On the list of everything about him that made her smile she added his tendency for public displays of affection. He had no trouble showing he cared for her in front of his friends. He didn’t embarrass her or violate her privacy. She couldn’t help but sink into the intimate way he touched her, as if it was something as matter-of-fact and normal as drinking coffee.

“You did great today,” he said.

His automatic support was pretty great, too. From him that meant a lot, but she wasn’t exactly ready to collect a medal for bravery. “I was plastered against the floor hoping not to get killed.”

Joel smiled at her over the top of the laptop. “You stayed calm and called the warning that likely saved Ben’s life.”

“Damn,” Ben groaned. “I meant to tell you not to share that yet.”

All exhaustion vanished as she sat up straight. “What?”

“The trajectory of the hit on the attacker next to Ben suggested the bullet was aimed right at Ben’s...” Joel froze in the process of turning the computer around to show her whatever was on his screen and stared at Ben instead. “What?”

Ben slipped his hand under her hair and turned her face toward him. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

No, no, no
. She had almost sat there and watched him get shot, all for her annoying habits and need to have repetition and uniformity.

She almost doubled over. “Now I am going up to vomit.”

“You’re fine.”

“Don’t bet on it.” She had to get out of there. Find a quiet minute alone. So much had happened and she hadn’t found two seconds to process it all.

She stood up, planning to find a shower and maybe sit on the bathroom floor by the toilet for a few minutes just in case. “I’m thinking it’s inevitable at this point.”

Ben winced. “In that case I might wait a while before I head up to join you.”

Something about the big strong man being afraid of a woman getting sick made her laugh. “Chicken.”

Because she couldn’t resist, she brushed her fingers through his soft hair as she walked by. She wanted to lean down and kiss him, but that could be too much. With the world spinning and someone trying to grab her every two seconds, they hadn’t exactly had a moment to sit down and talk about a definition for their relationship...if that was what it was.

He struck her as rock-solid, but kissing him in front of the guys could be the move that finally made him go all anti-commitment-male crazy. She just couldn’t handle that loss on top of everything else.

“Hey, what was the teller’s name?” Ben asked her as she reached the doorway to the main hall.

“What are you talking about?” Jocelyn gripped the doorjamb as she turned around. “Oh, you mean Pamela?”

Connor’s eyebrow lifted. “Last name?”

Jocelyn was still stuck on the last question. “You think she has something to do with this?”

“She’s the teller you go to regularly. You see her, she disappears and during the same time frame your life goes haywire. Seems too convenient not to be suspect,” Joel explained as he typed away.

Ben glared at him. “
Disappeared
might be a strong word,” he pointed out.

Jocelyn’s head had taken off in a full spin now.

“Don’t worry,” Ben said. “We’ll find out.”

As Jocelyn walked up the steps, she thought of all the things she wasn’t supposed to worry about. Her emotional baggage just got heavier with each passing second.

* * *

B
EN
FELT
THE
SENSATION
of being stared at and decided not to lift his head and face whatever bugged Connor. Studying the file of Davis’s notes provided cover. Not that Ben could read it. He stared at the words and lines of blue blur. All he could think about was the woman upstairs who could even now be stripping off her clothes and getting into a shower.

His control shattered.

“What about you? You okay?” Connor asked, clearly refusing to be ignored.

“Sure.”

“I meant the gunfire.”

The amusement in Connor’s voice had Ben lifting his head. The flat line on the boss’s mouth didn’t match the tone. Concern played there, too. In his eyes, in the way he leaned forward. This wasn’t about Jocelyn. It was about injuries, and Ben figured he could handle that talk.

“Can’t lie. That was a close one. I felt the bullet whiz by my head.” He knew it sounded nuts, but he could see the thing move through the air. That shot had come close to ending it all.

His bulletproof vest wouldn’t have stopped the bullet to the head he’d only barely sidestepped. “I thought that was it.”

“You’re taking a lot of knocks on this case. Still think you should head to the hospital to take care of that filleting of your stomach,” Joel said. “Lucky for you Jocelyn has the skills to keep you mobile.”

Connor nodded. “She’s a good woman.”

Ah, there it was
. Didn’t take Connor long to circle from gunfire to Jocelyn.

Ben cursed the ease with which he got sucked in. “Agreed, but why do I think I’m about to get a lecture about women and safety and how those things don’t easily square with our work?”

Leaning back in his chair, Connor tapped his pen against his open palm. “She’s got a lot of secrets.”

“Don’t we all?” The list went on for pages—the real story about the whereabouts of Connor’s wife, everything about Joel’s past and Ben’s doubts about whether he had done the right thing in the NCIS case. And those were just the ones that came to him on the spot. Davis and Pax came from a family that defined dysfunctional. No one walked away clean on this one.

“You still have secrets?” Joel asked. “I’m thinking most of your life is on display right now.”

Leave it to Joel to drill down to the point. He wasn’t the type to tiptoe around anything, no matter how uncomfortable. The straight shooting tended to take the squirming out of most issues. This time Ben didn’t mind. “Unfortunately, true.”

“Just tread carefully with her.” The intensity of Connor’s voice suggested he wasn’t kidding.

Even Joel glanced over at him. “You think she’s a danger?”

“I think she’s
in
danger and I’m guessing this isn’t the first time.” Connor’s pen kept tapping. “But I think Ben knows that.”

He knew most of the information but not all. That didn’t stop him from wanting to go after the guy who terrified Jocelyn. Maybe he wouldn’t jump in a car and drive to whatever prison the guy was in, but he could poke around and make sure the guy wasn’t coming out anytime soon.

“There’s a piece of crap who wouldn’t take no for an answer from her and is now locked away.” Ben stopped there. Jocelyn could fill in the rest if she wanted to.

Joel’s jaw clenched. “Give me the name and I’ll check in and make sure he’s not instigating the attacks on her now. I’ll refrain from arranging for him to get shanked in the group shower. Probably.”

Connor nodded. “Focus on the check in part.”

“Appreciate that.” Ben knew they’d been outraged at the idea of some moron hurting Jocelyn or any other woman. Still, hearing the anger in their voices and seeing it in the way their shoulders tensed backed up what Ben already knew—regardless of how he’d ended up at Corcoran, he was in the right place.

The pen flipped fast enough for Connor to launch it across the room. “You’ve had a rough few months, so be careful.”

“Are you giving him the rebound speech?”

For some reason Joel’s words made Ben smile. “Good question.”

“I’m saying the timing of a relationship with her is not ideal.”

Joel snorted. “Connor means it stinks.”

Ben thought the same thing at least ten times a day. “You’re not wrong about that.”

“But I’m thinking you’re going to keep seeing her.” Connor didn’t ask it as a question.

“Yeah, Connor. That is definitely going to happen.”

* * *

S
HE
SHOULD
HAVE
gone back to her room.

She went to his.

Jocelyn stood in front of the dresser and ran her fingers over the folded stack of T-shirts and thought about how they fit over Ben’s warm skin. One, two...she pulled out the third and frowned at the way one sleeve stuck out of the side. Before she could stop, she refolded it. Tucked the edges in just so. Switched the order, top to bottom, from light to dark.

The constant movement of her hands soothed her. Fixing things
just so
eased the anxiety that pinged around inside her. She’d endangered people, set off a chain of events that left people dead, and she had no idea how. The not knowing had her fought-for confidence puddling on the floor.

“Got twitchy when I couldn’t find you.” Ben leaned against the doorjamb watching her.

The idea he went hunting made her heart go a little wild. “Were you afraid I left the building? Because I’m not even sure that’s possible.”

“I was more worried I’d get stuck sleeping alone.” He stepped into the room and stood next to her, facing the mirror above the dresser. “For the record, that would be a very bad thing.”

“Tragic even.”

“I agree.” He folded his hand over hers and wove their fingers together. “How are you really doing?”

“My crazy is showing.”

“The shirts?” He flipped through them with his other hand. “You can touch my clothes, my stuff—me—anytime.”

“This sort of thing doesn’t scare you?”